Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve doesn’t know when it happens, but he’s become the most popular guy in school. A name and a face that any random student recognizes, whether they’ve met or not. It might have to do with his playing basketball, or maybe being friends with Nancy, the student body president. More likely it has to do with his online presence.

Steve walks across the cafeteria empty of the tables used during lunch and dodges the stream of students heading in the other direction. As he goes, unrecognized students reach out and pat his shoulder.

“Hey Steve,” they say.

“See you at lunch,” they say.

“Good game,” they say. Though the last basketball game was weeks ago. The team lost in the first round of districts to a team they’d beat earlier in the season. He isn’t torn up about it anymore, but the comments don’t help.

Before he makes it to the math hallway, he dips into the bathroom. Kids these days are constantly judging each other: appearance, romantic partners, tone of voice, social media presence. It’s second nature for them to be aware of this aspect of each other and themselves. Steve has to do the same.

The counter in this bathroom is lower and the stalls farther back, making it the perfect mirror for checking the whole fit. First, he looks for wrinkles, an improperly tucked top, scuffed shoes. Then he gets closer to the mirror as he re-tucks his shirt—it needs to look polished but casual, approachable. Muted tans alternate in thin stripes across the soft cotton blend that gently drapes across his broad shoulders. No one would know how much he spent on it. That’s the beauty of it; it looks like most everyone else’s clothes, but it fits better than theirs. 

Closer to the mirror, he gazes at his face, checking for blemishes. He grimaces at the mirror, checking his teeth for stray food bits, then huffs into his hand to check his breath. With that cleared, he runs his hands through his hair, restructuring the shape of it, re-activating the mousse with a little water on his finger tips. 

The routine is centering. A checking of the guard, walking the boundaries of your territory looking for problems that enemies could exploit. By polishing his appearance, no one can shake him or accuse him of not caring. The mask of his clothes protects him from the dagger like glares of his peers and the greater world. It protects him from examining his internal world. If there’s one thing his dad has taught him it’s this: presentation makes the man.

Behind him, the door to the bathroom swings open and another student comes in. “Hey Steve.” Steve glances in the mirror at the boy, a near stranger. Someone he’s seen in the hallways, maybe the odd class. 

In response, Steve lifts his head in acknowledgement, hoping his lack of speech won’t be seen as a snub.

“What did ya think of Stephanie’s party last weekend?” the boy asks as he saddles up to the urinal. The stream of his urine splashing against the porcelain doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. “She had some lit bevvies.”

Steve let’s loose his best laugh. “Bro, for real. That was crazy. And when Devon fell into the pool?”

The boy finishes at the urinal and comes to stand next to Steve offering his hand for a dap. Although the boy hasn’t even looked at the sink, Steve returns the gesture. “Glad you were there to pull him out. That lifeguard training put to good use.”

“For sure.”

The boy walks out of the bathroom shaking his head like they’d been discussing the difficulties of addressing poverty and were unsure why global governments didn’t do more to prevent it. Steve watches him go until the door shuts before turning to the sink and washing his hands.  

As he enters his math classroom, he shoots off a text to Robin.

Steve: Another person thought I pulled the kid from the pool at the party last weekend

Steve: Told me as he pissed

Steve: Didn’t even wash his hands

Steve: Glad so many people have posted about it, it covers my ass

His seat in math is in the front row but on the left side of the classroom. Mrs. Hancock is left-handed and always turns out to the class by opening from the right side. Meaning: he can get away with texting more in class. He’s sure that Nancy would say he needs to sit in the front of his difficult classes so he focuses more and misses less, but Steve and school have never gotten along. His dad has always argued that Steve just doesn’t apply himself, doesn’t work hard enough in class, saying everything but what he truly thinks: Steve is lazy. But with only a few more weeks before he graduates high school, math formulas are the last thing on his mind.

In his pocket, his phone gently vibrates.

Robin: Boys are gross 

Robin: Who wants to come in contact with their penis germs?!?

Steve: Focus

Robin: I can’t

Robin: The penis germs are everywhere

Robin: And I’m surrounded by boys in this class!

Steve: I washed my hands if it makes you feel better

Robin: 😑

Robin: Yes, Steve

Robin: Knowing intimate details about your and strangers’ bathroom rituals brings me joy

Robin: Dufus

Mrs. Hancock clears her throat as the bell rings to start class and passes back graded homework. “I was pleasantly surprised to see how many of you didn’t forget to include…” Steve turns back to his phone not caring in the slightest about homework.

Steve: We weren’t even at that party

Steve: It feels like stolen valor to take someone else’s moment

Robin: Why? It’s not like it would help them

Robin: You know how our high school is

Robin: Why give a W to a loser when there is a perfect popular kid to take it

Mrs. Hancock stops over his shoulder and Steve furtively tucks the phone under his leg. “Good job, you almost got it.” She drops the papers on his desk, a 79% circled in red at the top. Close, but not enough, Steve hears the disembodied voice of his dad grumble in his head. Then, the sickly sweet voice of his mom chimes in with something about him being such a sweet kid. Instead of confronting that, he returns to his phone as Mrs. Hancock picks up the marker and writes formulas on the board.

Steve: They know I was a lifeguard and don’t bother to update their knowledge 

Robin: It’s no big, don’t stress

That is easier said than done, but for the time being there’s nothing else to do. He opens his notebook and starts copying the information Mrs. Hancock has written on the board. At least while he is taking notes, he can’t be bothered by the emptiness of how strangers at school treat him. Everyone knows tidbits about him, little details that they think make up who he is, but those don’t paint the whole picture.

Halfway through class, his phone buzzes again in his pocket.

Robin: You’ve gotta talk to Tommy

Robin: He is being a dick just to be a dick

Robin: There’s playing devil’s advocate and then there’s setting up Taylor to fail in a debate with you

Steve: It can’t be that bad

Steve: You can hold your own against him

Robin: 🙄

Robin: That’s because I ignore him and change the subject

Robin: Taylor can’t do that in a graded debate for Mr. Hopper

Steve knows what Robin means. He’s been on the other end of a debate with Tommy: the way he can dig his heals in and dodge ever sound rebuttal you make, how the tilt of his jaw and the rise of the corner of his mouth will make you feel stupid, how he will find the worst interpretation of your statement and destroy you with it. He’s made many a bad decision after a debate with Tommy. There is no talking to him.

Steve: I’ll talk to him

Steve: But I can’t promise anything

The bell rings. Steve gathers his stuff and heads into the hall, trying to draft a text to Tommy that is nonconfrontational. He isn’t watching where he is going, just trusting that the crowd will move around him like they always do. But as he turns a corner, he smacks right into a person. The kids books and papers go flying and everyone nearby disappears, offering no help.

“Sorry,” Steve grumbles. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

The poor kid’s eyes are wide and he stumbles over his words as his twiggy limbs jitter, either from excitement or nerves, Steve can’t tell. “No, no. It’s my bad. I’m just so cringe, bumping into you.”

Steve bends over and picks up a notebook and what looks like a social studies packet (the top page reads DBQ and Steve has a fuzzy memory from freshman year world history class). As he stands back up and takes in the freshman’s face, he senses a shift.

The freshman’s eyes go wider, showing the whites. He folds into himself and his eyes dart between Steve’s face, Steve’s hands, and his own supplies. Steve is about to hand them over and brush off the whole interaction, when the freshman cuts him off.

“Seriously, it’s all my fault. I won’t do it again. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Steve frowns. For some reason it seems like the kid is terrified. There’s tension in his body from the situation with Tommy and running into someone and maybe the kid is picking up on it. Steve exhales to release it. “Um, ok.” He slowly offers the kid his things, not wanting to spook him.

The kid reaches out, still bouncing his eyes all over Steve, waiting for the slightest shift as though Steve would hit him. Finally, he pulls his things from Steve’s grasp. An exhale bursts from his mouth like he survived a near-death experience.

The interaction stays with Steve through his last period before lunch. It was like his freshman year all over again. He and Tommy terrorized their classmates, convinced they were the top of the social ladder and had the right to put others in their place. At first, Steve loved it. By mid year, his making the JV basketball team and being a swinger only solidified his right to do it. But it wore off before the end of the year. Instead of making him feel powerful, the fear in his victims eyes made him feel dirty.

Just like the look in that kid’s eyes did.

At lunch, Steve seeks out Tommy before he heads to the table to meet up with the girls. He finds him at his locker. 

“Bro,” Tommy calls as Steve approaches him. They dap and Tommy goes back to putting his things away in his locker. “Robin must be on the rag or something. She was up in my business last period.”

Steve grimaces, but decides not to call Tommy on two things in one conversation. “Way I heard it, you were crushing Taylor for no reason.”

Tommy snarls and closes his locker. “Of course you’ll side with her. When are you gonna smash that? The way you are simping for her is sad—”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose as they walk toward the cafeteria. “Dude, for the last time Robin and I are capital P platonic. That means we don’t smash. Besides, she’s dating Nancy and has been for a year plus.”

“Whatever bro, you need to get her off my dick.”

Steve taps Tommy’s arm to stop him before they get to the table. “Can you stop?” Steve drops his voice so the rest of the cafeteria doesn’t hear them. “We both know you were being a dick just to be a dick.”

Tommy leans in closer. “I will if you make me.” 

He steps into Steve's space, their feet intertwined, and Steve’s heart picks up. This is how it is between them, Steve pushes and Tommy does it back. Steve tries to make Tommy better and Tommy will resist, but only so far, eventually he’ll back down. 

Lately though, he’s been pushing farther and farther. It’s like seeing the finish line of graduation has ignited something new in him. 

For Steve, it makes him want to cross that finish line without any more incidents. Once high school is done, it won’t be his responsibility to restrain Tommy anymore. If he acts out, it’ll be the sheriff and his deputies job to deal with him.

“I shouldn’t have to,” Steve huffs out. “You’re better than this.” Steve steps away and heads for their normal table, where Nancy and Robin are waiting for him.

Behind him, Tommy says, “Since when?”

Tommy doesn’t join them at the table. A moment after Steve sits down, Carol jumps up and heads out the exit that Tommy stormed through. 

“What’s her problem?” Robin asks. Neither Nancy nor Steve say anything.

The rest of lunch is nothing as dramatic as all that. It isn’t until the bell rings and they start to pack up, that Tommy returns and Carol follows behind him. Tommy looks sheepish, apologetic almost. Steve acknowledges their return with a nod before tossing away his lunch trash and heading toward his locker. 

A moment later, Tommy is on his shoulder and leaning in to his ear. “We good?”

Steve keeps walking, but turns his head to look toward Tommy. “Yeah.” He doesn’t say it with his chest, but maybe he is just tired and shaken from that kid earlier.

Tommy quirks an eyebrow and steps back. Under his breath he mumbles, “You used to be cooler.” He must not expect Steve to hear him.

But he does. Another drop in the bucket for his stresses of the day.

Chapter Text

Eddie slams his foot on the break as he pulls into Dustin’s driveway, barely avoiding the trash can someone pulled halfway up the concrete. Something in the back rolls forward and hits the seats with a bang.

Dustin appears at the window. Eddie sees him and honks the horn. It’s obnoxious and loud, but the sort of loud that doesn’t fit with the external appearance of the van. Like an eagle’s actual cry when you are expecting what you hear in movies—a red tail hawk. 

A minute later, Dustin opens the door to the van with a squeak. “You can stop honking,” he says as he flings his bag over his shoulder and plops down in the seat. 

Eddie doesn’t, knowing that Claudia is still home. It annoys the neighbors, but it makes Claudia happy. The smile of fond exasperation on her face when she comes to the window lifts his heart. 

Dustin grabs his arm and pulls him away from the horn just as Claudia arrives at the window. “Ok, ok,” Eddie says waving at Claudia and putting the van into reverse. Her eye-roll never fails to make him smile. 

Most parents when they see Eddie—his long, curly hair; the metal music blaring from his headphones; the demon iconography on his clothes and accessories—they panic and want to keep their kid far away. And maybe Claudia did at first, but she’s never held it against him. She listened to Dustin when he went on about Eddie—and he does go on and on, the kid doesn’t know when to shut up—and gave him a second chance. 

Not many people do that. She was so real for it and Eddie has never forgotten it.

In his experience, what he lovingly calls the Munson Doctrine, people are unlikely to go against what they’ve been told, they’re unlikely to go against the norm. And if he didn’t believe it before, high school has all but proven it.

Dustin laughs in the passenger seat. Eddie glances quick to see what he is doing. “You’re gonna go blind looking at that thing all the time,” he says when he sees that Dustin is looking down at his phone. Probably at some dumb video. At least he’s learned to keep an earbud in and not blast it to the whole car.

“Ok, boomer,” Dustin replies, a smirk in his tone. “Just because you wish to live outside of society, doesn’t mean the rest of us do.”

“What’re you doing anyway?” 

They pull up to a red light a few blocks from school and Dustin leans over to show Eddie his screen. On it is a video of someone he sort of recognizes from school doing something he guesses you could call a dance. “Isn’t it funny?”

Eddie frowns. “Not in the slightest.” Munson Doctrine rule 4, don’t lie about your thoughts to the people you care about.

Dustin runs his finger over the screen and another video slides into place. The person in this one is someone he definitely recognizes: Steve Harrington. In the video, Steve is walking through a house, talking, though Eddie can’t hear it with the bluetooth on, until he spins and throws himself on a couch. Nancy and Robin are sitting there too, cuddling, when Steve rolls onto them. Their faces contort, yelling at Steve presumably for interrupting. Robin slaps and pushes him away while he laughs.

It leaves a sour taste in Eddie’s mouth to see King Steve being so casual with a gay couple when just four years ago, he and Tommy had shamed Eddie for seeming gay for being different. 

They’d been right, he is gay, but that’s beside the point.

Eddie turns away from the phone to stare ahead and wait for the light to turn green. “He’s talking about the Battle of the Bands,” Dustin offers as he pulls the phone back to himself.

Of course he is, Eddie thinks to himself. Of course a jock like him would care about the Battle of the Bands, the one thing that Eddie sort of has going for him about his senior year. The one thing that he has to motivate him to finish this year. Of course his freshman bully, who he’s successfully avoided in the intervening years, is going to show up when he is this close to the finish line.

The light turns green. Eddie steps on the gas. Munson Doctrine rule 11, when someone shows you who they are, believe them, especially if they show themselves to be a giant asshole.

“Why do you even follow that guy?” Eddie grumbles.

Dustin shrugs. “He’s cool and he knows what goes on at the school better than others. I know I’m only a freshman, but I don’t want to be the bottom of the barrel forever.”

“Hey!”

“No offense.”

“Some taken.” He tries, really tries, to teach Dustin and his group of friends that popularity isn’t everything in high school. That it means nothing outside of high school, but still they yearn for the spotlight. Or front row seats at the least.

“I just mean it would be nice not to be hated for just existing.”

Eddie sighs. “I know. I want that for you, too.” He doesn’t want Dustin to have the high school experiences he’s had. 

“It’s fine. It’s not like these kids know who I am. They probably accept all followers just to boost their numbers.” Dustin locks his phone and slides it into his jacket pocket.

Yet another reason to despise them, Eddie thinks. But Munson Doctrine rule 7, never leave a friend hanging. “It’ll be ok either way. It’s more important to think about the people that love you. And you’ve got plenty of those. These popular kids are missing out on knowing you, not the other way around.”

Dustin turns to Eddie and gives him his million watt smile. Eddie smiles back, though not nearly as bright, and they finish the ride in silence until Eddie pulls into the parking space at the back of the lot.

As they pull their bags from the van, Dustin asks, “Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of what?”

Dustin looks across the parking lot and gestures at a group of jocks. “Of them. Steve or Tommy or any number of popular guys. They are living it up and we are just stuck at home playing DnD most nights.”

“I happen to like DnD,” Eddie retorts as he pushes his hair behind his shoulders. “And so do you.”

“I’d just like to go to one party that’s not you, Will, Mike, Jeff, Gareth—”

“Ok, I get it.”

“That’s all.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and squeezes his backpack straps around him. “I think I’ll continue to be a stick in the mud of high school, thank you very much.”

“The Hawkins High Battle of the Bands competition is coming up quickly. If you want a chance to compete, you and your band mates need to fill out the participation form available on the school website. Or scan the QR code on the posters around school.”

“Can you believe—” 

“Shut up, Eddie,” Jeff says, as he and Gareth strain to listen over the crowd.

Eddie frowns and crosses his arms, but he stays silent.

“In order to be considered for the final showcase, you’ll need to submit a video or audio of your band playing a song by the deadline. The top ten with the most votes will move on to the live showcase. See Mr. Callahan or Miss. Clarke with any questions.”

“Can I speak now?” Eddie asks his best friends. They consider for a moment, teasing Eddie by looking at each other, then up, then at their wrists at watches they don’t have, before nodding. “Can you believe that Lucas ignored me in the hall today?”

Jeff smirks. “What were you doing that he needed to ignore you?”

“Nothing!” Eddie throws his arms up. “I was just saying hello.”

Actually, what he did was pretend to be Lucas’s mom and called him from down the hall asking if he remembered his lunch and to clean behind his ears. Mike had given him a dirty look followed by the finger. To which Eddie yelled, “Don’t ignore your mother, I gave birth to you.”

Jeff looks at Gareth. “Sure you did,” they say in harmony.

“Kids these days just aren’t grateful with their phones and snapchat-agrams and toks.”

Gareth sighs at Eddie. None of this is new. Eddie is a lover of classic metal and old movies. He always says he was born in the wrong decade. But for Gareth, they can’t relate. Not really. This decade suits them just fine. “Maybe next time just say hi. He is still young. He hasn’t learned not to care what other people think, Eds.”

“He and his friends willingly play DnD with me at the center. They all came to me.”

“DnD is kinda cool now,” Jeff says. “At least, it’s not as bad as it was in the 80s. People used to think playing DnD meant you were a devil worshipper or a murderer. Now it’s just a game like anything else.”

“That may be, but what it really tells me is that he doesn’t respect his elders.”

Jeff and Gareth laugh. “Like you do? Mr. ‘Munson Doctrine says trust no authority but your own’.”

“That’s a good rule,” Eddie defends. “I won’t be falling for fascism or getting into a cult like some of these idiots.” He gestures at the students around them. 

“When I leave Hawkins, I will at least know who I am. That’s more than I can say for,” Eddie searches for a popular kid to ridicule. “For Billy Hargrove. Or for Tommy Hagan. Or Steve—”

Jeff and Gareth intone together, with all the malice they can manage. “Harrington.” Gareth continues, “We know, Eddie. We know. You don’t have to preach to us. We’re the loyal followers. It’s the babies you need to convince.”

Jeff nods. “And you’re running out of time. There’s only 9 weeks until graduation. And we know you’ll get out of here as soon as possible.”

“As soon as Wayne will let me go. And then it’s off to bigger cities boys. Where there will be real people and life and music and actual queer culture.” Eddie can almost feel the twinkle in his eye as he thinks about it. “And I’ll never have to think about lame ol’ Hawkins, Indiana again.”

“But first,” Gareth interjects, “we’re gonna do the Battle of the Bands, right?”

Eddie comes back down from his daydreaming. “I don’t know.”

“Come on, Eddie,” says Jeff. “This is our opportunity to leave with a bang.”

“If we win, we can rub it in the popular kids faces,” Gareth adds. “And it’ll benefit the babies because they knew us before we won.”

Eddie pretends to consider it to give his friends the impression that he still isn’t sure, that they are cajoling him to do it. The truth is, he’s been thinking about joining since this summer. Corroded Coffin, their band, had a fantastic last show of the summer up in Indianapolis. For the first time he not only feels confident in their music, but he feels that other people like it too.

Finally, he sighs, pretending to break to his friends’ pleas. “Fine, we can do it.” Gareth and Jeff punch the air and fist bump. “But we’ve gotta do it our way. No holding back.”

Gareth smiles. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Chapter Text

Steve had agreed to help Nancy out at the prom ticket table at lunch. And since Tommy was standing right there when she asked, he invited himself to come. Something Steve is regretting. 

Each time a kid comes up to buy tickets, Tommy asks one question: “Who are you taking?”

And with each answer, Tommy adds some snarky remark. Not to Steve, but to the kid themself. And loudly.

“Ooh, a fatty chaser,” he says to the most recent kid. The sophomore turns bright red, which blends in with his ginger hair, and walks away in the blink of an eye.

“Dude, shut the fuck up,” Steve says before he realizes what’s come out of his mouth. 

Tommy stops laughing and turns to Steve. “What’d you say?”

There’s no turning back now. “Why are you being such a dick? You don’t even know these kids and you have something to say to every single one. And not even just mean, but like violent stuff. What gives you the right to have any opinion on who they want to take to prom?” Steve is out of breath when he finishes. Days of built up frustration pouring out of him, maybe years if he could be honest with himself.

Tommy narrows his eyes. “What gives me the right?” With the question Tommy puffs up, a defensive tactic that Steve is all too familiar with from years of being by Tommy’s side. “Being at the top of the school gives me the right. These kids need to know what the world is like. They need to know their place.”

Steve widens his eyes and shakes his head. “Their place? What does that even mean?”

“It means they belong beneath me and you.”

“Don’t pull me into this. I haven’t said one damn thing to those kids. Not like you.”

Tommy smirks. “Maybe not, but you haven’t disagreed with me either. They know what you seem to be forgetting. We’re a package deal, amigo. What I say, you believe.”

Steve thinks of the kid he ran into the other day. The fear in his eyes. This is what he feared, or who. But hadn’t he spoken against it? Hadn’t he told Tommy to stop? Hadn’t he kept him on a leash all these years?

Around them, the lunch room quiets like a wave, though neither boy notices it. All the heads turn to their table, straining to hear the fight, to see who will come out the victor.

“Think about it Stevie. Ever since freshman year, it’s been me and you.” Tommy gestures between them, leaning in closer. “First we ruled our class, and now we rule the school. None of these dweebs get close. You know it deep down, you know you agree with me. They are beneath us. We are the best of the best. And if you would let yourself, we could get back to how we used to be.”

Tommy reaches out and grips Steve’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. It feels familiar, like thousands of times before when Steve thought he was changing Tommy. But maybe it was the other way around. Maybe it was Tommy pulling the strings all along. 

That’s not right though. “Tommy, what are you talking about? How we used to be? You mean assholes that beat people beyond recognition? Kids heading for juvie? Why would you want to be like that again? There is nothing I want to be less. And you haven’t been that way for years. I’ve changed. You’ve changed.” It sounds like a plea.

Tommy releases his shoulder and stands quickly, sending his folding chair clashing to the ground. Steve stands in response, just to be on even ground—it never serves to be beneath Tommy if you want to be safe it seems. “What is your obsession with being perfect?” Tommy yells.

Steve can feel the shift in the room. He hadn’t noticed the silence before, but he sees the kids that circle around them now, begging for a fight, hoping for blood. He can’t stop staring at Tommy, the carefully curated mask is cracking and revealing something else beneath it. Something angry, animal.

“Perfect?” Steve scoffs. “I’m not perfect.”

“We know, Steve.” He opens his arms to the crowd around them, hoping to bring them to his side. “The problem is that you think you can be. What you don’t realize is no one else is so naive. We know who you truly are.”

Steve looks around at the crowd, hoping for a friendly face. Maybe Nancy or Robin will step in to be on Steve’s side. They know who he is; they know he isn’t what Tommy believes he is. At least he thinks they do given how often they reach out to him with kind words. 

But the hierarchy of high school is fickle; all he sees are cautious looks, some even in agreement with Tommy. His eyes catch on one boy in particular, with long curly hair. He stands away from the crowd but seems invested nonetheless. His body language is tense and fearful, unlike the rest of the crowd, but he can’t take his eyes away.

“You, Steve Harrington,” Tommy continues, bringing Steve back to what’s in front of him. Tommy has stepped closer and is pointing a finger at him. “You’re an asshole. Your fake kindness doesn’t hide the smell of shit.”

The crowd breaks into laughter, sensing that Steve can say nothing else. Tommy takes another step toward Steve, who tenses up afraid that Tommy’s gonna punch him. Instead, he leans into his ear and whispers. “Next time you wanna get on my dick about something, just say it. I’m happy to fuck some sense into you.”

Steve is so shocked, he says nothing. Tommy walks through him, knocking his shoulder, and parts the crowd. At the hallway, Steve sees Jason Carver and Billy Hargrove walk up to Tommy. Billy drapes an arm over Tommy’s shoulders and steers him away. 

When Steve turns back, he zeroes in on that same person with the curly hair. He looks…disappointed. In what, Steve doesn’t know. But maybe he could guess.

Chapter Text

After school, Steve headed directly home. His peers tried to stop him, tried to invite him to parties, tried to share their thoughts on the fight (which the school has dubbed The Break-up), but he wouldn’t hear any of it. He spent the rest of the night moping in bed surrounded by junk food. He ignored all the messages that Robin and Nancy send him and fell asleep with a chip bag under his cheek.

“This is sad, Steve.”

He wakes like the dead out of a deep sleep to the sound of Robin’s voice. He opens his eyes to bright light pouring in his windows and sees Robin, her hip cocked out and her arms crossed, staring him down.

“You know this is doing nothing to disprove the rest of the school calling this a break-up. Lucky for you, I care more about you than my social standing and I won’t be sharing this for clout.”

Steve sits up and clears his throat. Chip crumbs fall onto the bed and get stuck in his chest hair. “It’s not a break-up,” Steve halfheartedly defends.

Robin clears herself a spot on his bed and hums. “Sure Janice.” She holds up an empty container of Oreo's as though it is proof of something.

“I was embarrassed in front of the whole school. I’m allowed to eat my feelings.”

Robin’s eyes remain bright and caring, though behind them he senses she knows that he is lying to himself. “The real question is if between Doritos and Oreo's you actually felt any of those feelings.”

Steve flings himself back into bed and pulls the comforter over his head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I don’t think that’s an option. You had a very public fight in the packed cafeteria of Hawkins High. So either you talk about it with me, or you face the crowds Monday.”

“There are already Team Steve and Team Tommy girlies on the socials,” Nancy chimes in as she walks through the doorway. Steve flings the cover back, revealing that he is only in boxers. Nancy blushes and turns to face the hallway. “Steven, my eyes!”

Robin goes to her girlfriend to comfort her as Steve grabs sweats and a shirt. “Nancy, we dated. We had sex, you’ve seen more than this.”

Robin shoots him a dirty look. “Don’t remind us.”

“Yeah, Steve. That was an obvious compulsory heterosexual mistake on my path to realizing I am a lesbian.”

“She doesn’t need to be thinking about your penis,” Robin stage whispers.

Steve pulls the shirt over his head. “Don’t worry Robin, I’m sure we both know that you are the better lover.” He picks up the food wrappers and containers and tosses them in the trash can by his desk before plopping back on the bed.

Nancy turns to Robin, nuzzling their noses together. “It’s true.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Why are you both here? And how did you get in?”

Nancy sits on the edge of the bed while Robin takes the rolling desk chair, preferring to spin back and forth as they talk. “Steven, I have been your best friend for almost three years now. I know where your hide-a-key is.”

“We were worried about you,” Nancy adds, shooting Robin a ‘behave’ look. 

“We were,” Robin agrees. “The Hawkins High socials sphere was saying all sorts of stuff that was maybe true. And you weren’t responding to my texts or my calls! And you know that I hate making phone calls.” Steve says that he does, but Robin plows over it. “So my anxiety brain started getting very concerned, thinking that maybe you’d drunken yourself into a stupor. Or something!”

Robin’s fingers are slid up into her hair, scrunching it up as the panic grew. Steve reaches out and lowers her hands. “I’m sorry,” he offers. “I didn’t have it in me to respond and I thought you’d assume that. I was wrong and I’m sorry that my actions hurt you.”

Robin gives a curt nod. “Thank you.”

Nancy interjects. “That’s not the only reason we are here.”

“Right. We also wanted to tell you to avoid the socials since it is…”

“Unpleasant,” adds Nancy.

“Yeah.”

“Got it,” Steve said, reaching for his phone. He opens it up and turns on the mode that blocks all the social media sites from notifying him. “That’s done. Are y’all leaving now?”

Nancy frowns. “Steve, we’re your friends. We aren’t gonna leave you in your time of need.”

“We brought more snacks,” Robin exclaims. “And a list of movies to stream that will help make you feel better.”

“I don’t know guys,” Steve says. “I was kinda wanting to be alone today.”

“Nonsense,” Nancy counters.

“To the basement!” Robin cries as she pulls Steve from his bed and heads for the door.

A few hours later, with multiple comedies under their belt, Nancy goes back upstairs to make another round of popcorn. Steve knows that Nancy and Robin planned this for just this moment so that he and Robin could talk in private. Robin knows him well enough to time out his break-up moods to a T.

“How are you really doing?” she asks to start the conversation.

“I should’ve seen it coming. I feel stupid for thinking that things would end otherwise.”

Robin wraps her blanket around herself again. “Tommy has always been an asshole, but you aren’t dumb for wanting him to be better, thinking that he could be. It says more about your optimism that you believed in him. It says a lot about how shitty he is that he didn’t take the chance.”

“He said he was waiting for me to be the Steve I was freshman year.” It turns Steve’s stomach to think about it again, to say it out loud to Robin.

“Clearly he doesn’t know you,” scoffs Robin.

“What do you mean?”

“I knew you for five minutes before I realized that you were working so hard to undo the things you did freshman year.”

“I had some things to make up to you.”

Robin smirks. “Yes, that’s true, but you did that. That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What are you talking about?”

“For the short time we worked at Scoop’s Ahoy, I watched you relearn how to respond to people. Like you’d stutter and catch yourself before saying something horrid. Your face did this thing when you were talking to yourself about how you needed to be better.” Robin tries to recreate Steve’s face, how he scrunched his eyebrows and pursed his lips. 

It makes Steve smile despite himself. “But it was different with you.”

“Maybe.”

“You were rewriting a bully, an enemy,” Steve counters. “For Tommy, he would be rewriting a friend that he’d known for years.”

“A friend he refused to see change and grow. What sort of friend is that?”

Steve rolls his head along the couch to look at Robin. “Not everyone can be as great of a friend as you are.”

Robin perks up. “That’s true, but that doesn’t mean you don’t hold them to my standard.”

“I’d have no other friends if I held them to your standard.”

“Do you need any other friends if you’ve got me?”

Steve snorts. “I guess not.”

“Except Nancy.’

“Well, I was her friend before I was your friend,” Steve points out. “She’s grandfathered in. Grandmother’d?”

“Also, she’s more of my girlfriend than your friend.”

“Hey, I’m Steve’s friend and your girlfriend,” Nancy says as she walks down the stairs with a bowl overflowing with popcorn. 

“You’re right,” says Robin as Nancy sits down and Robin lays back across her lap and puts her feet on Steve’s leg.

Nancy picks up the remote and navigates to the search function. “How do we feel about 21 Jump Street?” 

As expected, all everyone can talk about the next week is the Tommy-Steve break-up. Robin is tired of it by halfway through first period, and not just because of the inane things people are saying about Steve. She’s never bought into the popularity game, not the way Steve and even Nancy have so it’s always interesting to watch these things unfold from an outsider perspective. This time though, watching her classmates turn on Steve for points with Tommy is demoralizing and disheartening. Those who witnessed the fight first hand experienced some fame as they could reveal the truth of what was spread on social media and their preening pushed Robin over the edge.

“So you think Tommy was wrong?” Carol asks at lunch on Monday, her tone snotty and judgmental. Robin wasn’t sure how things would go with Carol as they were never close, but it was becoming clearer by the second. 

Nancy tries to say something, but Robin speaks over her. “Of course he was Carol. You may be blinded by your crush on him, but Tommy has always been an asshole.”

“And you’re a bitch,” Carol says back.

It doesn’t phase Robin, though Nancy bristles at the name. Any semblance of a relationship the girls had was forced by Tommy and Steve’s friendship and Carol never even attempted to get to know Nancy or Robin. Nancy could try all she wants to teach Carol about the harms language does between women but it would be like talking to a brick wall.

“Tommy and I were Steve’s friends before you two came along and turned him into someone different. You ruined him,” Carol spits.

“You can’t keep him in a tiny box,” Nancy said gently. “He’s allowed to grow and change, even if that means growing away from you and Tommy.”

Carol sucks her teeth. “I’m not saying he can’t grow. I’m saying you two poisoned him. That you turned him into a pussy.”

“Don’t, Nance,” Robin says to Nancy, knowing that she’d only keep quiet for so much longer. Robin turns back to Carol. “You can think whatever you want Carol, but since you are clearly Team Tommy, you might want to leave. Steve is heading this way.”

Carol harrumphs but stomps off, leaving Nancy and Robin to recover before Steve arrives. Robin turns into Nancy and grumbles, “I’m not sad to see the back of her.”

Nancy glares at Robin, chastising her with her eyes. Her eyes soften a moment later and Robin knows that Nancy agrees with her.

“What did she want?” Steve asks when he sits down at their table. He is grateful that Carol left before he arrived. They hadn’t been close in years, not since he befriended Robin, but she liked Tommy and he never told her to leave. 

“To be a bitch,” Robin says.

“Robin,” Nancy chastises. Robin makes a face at Nancy.

Steve looks over the girls shoulder and they turn to see what he is looking at. Across the cafeteria, Tommy is holding court besides Jason and Billy. Their laughter is loud and irritating, especially when they see Billy reach out and flip a freshman’s lunch tray onto the ground. This makes the boys laugh harder. 

“That didn’t take long,” says Nancy.

“I guess that shows how much I was holding him back,” Steve grumbles.

Robin crosses her arms. “You’d think there’d be less Team Tommy people as he is terrorizing the school.” Nancy looks at Robin behind Steve’s back, making a ‘knock it off’ face.

“You don’t have to do that,” Steve says. “I’m not fragile.”

“Sorry,” Nancy says quietly. 

They continue to watch the trio as they unleash their every random thought onto the people around them, including each other. Tommy reaches over and flips Jason’s hat from his head. Billy slaps Tammy’s ass when she leans over to grab it. Jason flips off the teachers monitoring the cafeteria. 

“This can’t continue,” Steve states before turning his back on them to eat his lunch. He doesn’t know how, but he’ll find a way to stop what he started.

 “Team Steve, on god,” a guy says as Steve enters the bathroom. He nods his head in acknowledgement, but since it is the thousandth comment to that affect (or the opposite) that day, he ignores it. He’s one period away from making it through this day—the post break-up day though he would never voice that to anyone—and he feels like he is barely hanging on.

He’s kept it together around Nancy and Robin. If they asked why, Steve’s not sure he could explain it. It’s only that he isn’t sure who he is without Tommy. But that’s not it, not entirely, because it’s not like Tommy made his personality. More that if he didn’t have to keep Tommy in line than what did he do with himself?

An even smaller part of himself, one that he doesn’t want to examine, misses the push and pull of their relationship. Not that Tommy was an asshole to him, never that. But that they challenged each other. Up until recently that is.

At the mirror, he examines his face. It looks as haggard as he feels with large, purple bags hanging beneath his eyes. His hair is lopsided and just left of the messy he normally goes for; it makes him look unhinged. But there is only one more period to get through.

“Thought I’d find you here,” a familiar voice says behind him. Steve didn’t even hear the door open.

In the mirror, he sees Tommy—the last person he wants to see. Steve frowns and turns on the water, occupying himself by washing his hands.

“We created quite the scandal.” Tommy leans against the wall near Steve. “Sorta feels like old times.”

“You wish,” Steve bites out.

“Don’t be a sore loser, bro.”

Steve reaches around Tommy to grab paper towels, not caring if he drips on Tommy on the way there. “I’m only a loser because you continue to be an asshole.” Steve shakes his head. “I may have given you some social cred, but I couldn’t make you a good person.”

Tommy scoffs and shoves Steve’s shoulder. “You think you made me popular? That’s a load of bullshit.”

Steve doesn’t give in to Tommy’s provocation to fight. He stands his ground, placing his hands on his hips. “And how else would you have become popular? Beating people into submission?”

Tommy shrugs like duh, having given it no more thought than that.

“That’s not popular. It’s being a bully.” 

“Whatever man, you’re just jealous because your little project didn’t want to play anymore.”

Steve sputters, throwing his hands in the air. As though he wasn’t just thinking something similar.

Tommy’s face slides into a gleeful smirk. He crosses his arms and steps closer to Steve. “Let’s make this interesting.”

“There’s no this. There’s no us.” Steve gestures between them, but doesn’t leave.

“I bet,” Tommy taunts, his lips carefully forming each sound, “that you couldn’t do it again. Make someone popular.”

Steve wants so badly to prove Tommy wrong, except it’s not about being popular. It’s about being a better person. It was always about that. “That’s vague.”

Tommy leans back against the wall, getting comfortable in their normal back and forth. “It’d have to be done before graduation. And the event would need to be some sort of popularity contest.”

“I’m not doing it, Tommy.”

“There is prom, but that seems lame and cliche. Were you even planning on going to prom? You haven’t had a date in a while.” 

Tommy stares Steve down, not blinking, a smirk on his lips. It’s true that Steve hasn’t dated recently, not anything serious since Nancy. There have been some hang outs, but nothing promising, to the dismay of Hawkins High gawkers.

Steve feels himself heating up under that look, but eventually Tommy shifts his eyes to the ceiling. “Oh I know. The Battle of the Bands.”

“I don’t play music,” Steve says.

“But you are Mr. Social Media. You could make someone popular by repping them on your page alone. You know all about outfits and angles and editing.”

Despite everything, Steve can feel himself giving in. But Tommy doesn’t win until Steve agrees and he won’t be doing that just yet. 

“Play this game with me Steve,” Tommy says, putting his hands together in a plea. “What do I need to do to convince you?” 

“Easy. Stop bullying people.” He figures he’s called Tommy’s bluff. The one thing Tommy wouldn’t give up now that he was free of Steve’s influence. He crosses his arms feeling confident.

“Deal.” A sly grin shifts across Tommy’s face. “Now let’s pick the loser.”

They exit the bathroom; Tommy is determined to find the right person before the bell rings.

“Hold up,” Steve calls behind him. “I’m not so stupid as to not get clear parameters before shaking on a bet with you.”

Tommy scans the hallways at the juncture of the two main paths in the school, only half listening to Steve.

“You don’t bully anyone, physically or verbally, until the bet is over. Even if your so-called-friends are doing it.”

“Fine,” Tommy huffs.

“If I win the bet, then you don’t bully anyone the rest of the year. Graduation.”

“And by win, you mean that my chosen loser wins the Battle of the Bands.”

Steve clenches his jaw. “You’ve gotta pick someone that at least has some musical skill. I can make them popular, not give them musical skill.”

“I’ll keep what happens when I win a surprise, just for you and me.” Tommy winks at Steve and turns back to the crowds.

Steve huffs but agrees.

“Any other rules, your majesty?” Steve stops to think for a second. “Tick-tock. I wanna get this done before our next class.”

“I guess that’s it. But I’m not shaking until you pick someone.”

“What about him?” Tommy nods at a guy that Steve thinks is named Jonathan. He is skittish and lanky. Clearly an artsy type.

“I could do something with that. Indie music is popular these days and he fits that aesthetic.”

Tommy shakes his head. “Nah, that’s not it.” 

He looks around again and points at another kid. “Him?”

The kid has long, straight black hair. He is dressed like he is living in 1980s California with at least twelve weed leaves on his outfit. “Are you sure he plays music?”

“Look at him, of course he does.” Steve glares at Tommy. “That’s fine, I wasn’t into him anyways.”

Steve checks his phone. They have less than 30 seconds before the bell rings. He’s already resigned himself to being late—he can smooth things over with Mr. Andrews who only half cares about the rules—but he hasn’t fully committed to doing this and the bell is what will determine it.

Tommy stops looking and turns to Steve. “I think we should shake on it now. Since I get to choose the person anyway, it shouldn’t matter.”

Steve shakes his head. “Of course it matters. I’m not sure I want to do this.”

“Afraid you can’t do it.”

“Not at all.”

Tommy grins, the freckles across his nose like stars. “Then shake on it. Have faith in your self Steve.”

The snide way he says it is what does Steve in. He thrusts his hand out for Tommy to shake and he does. Still holding his hand, Tommy turns them to look just down the hall at a kid standing at his lockers. “There is your loser. Freak, really. Eddie Munson.”

Chapter Text

Steve puts it off as long as he can. The bell rang just as Tommy announced his pick and Steve focused on getting to class rather than thinking about it. After school, Robin and Nancy want to hang out, but he makes some lame excuse and goes directly home.

Once there, he panics. For like thirty minutes. Pacing his room and ranting out loud to Tommy and himself and every one else who have slighted him. Then, he settles down on his laptop to do research, to try to find something to grasp onto. But Eddie Munson is a ghost. At least, according to social media where he has an incomplete Facebook, but no Instagram or Snapchat or TikTok that Steve can see. How does this kid expect to be a musician without an online presence? 

He spends Tuesday trying to catch glimpses of Eddie whenever he is in the hall. He figures that since Eddie is offline, maybe he can get a sense of him in real life. That leads nowhere. Certainly, Eddie is theatrical, but that does nothing for Steve.

There is one thing that Steve remembers about Eddie, back from freshman year, but he locks it away, determined not to face it right now. The thing to focus on is the bet and getting Eddie ready for the Battle of the Bands. Or, with any luck, Eddie is a fantastic musician and all Steve has to do is perfect his image.

By the end of the day, he is screaming at himself to act. There isn’t much time and they still need to submit a video for the students to vote on. If this is going to work, Steve thinks he needs to be a part of making that video. The whole part. Or at least the overseer—he thinks he has a few favors to call in with some knowledgeable people.

Except, he still can’t do it.

Eddie is…intimidating. It is an unusual dilemma for Steve to be in. He is the friendly every-man: most people want to talk to him. But Eddie gives off a distinct ‘don’t talk to me popular guy’ vibe.

The final bell rings and school gets out for the day. Steve spies Eddie ahead of him in the hallway, heading for the back door toward the student parking lot. That’s the direction Steve was planning on going anyway—though he normally stops at his locker and waits for Nancy and Robin—but he ignores that impulse and follows him.

Follow is not the right term. That implies that Steve has a goal, a plan, and at the moment he is hoping that something brilliant will hit him at the right moment as he walks in the same direction as the guy. Only then, Eddie ducks into a classroom. Steve panics, searching for something to occupy himself while he waits for Eddie. There is a bulletin board with information for students about health topics next to Steve. He turns to it and pretends to be invested in it, though he keeps checking over his shoulder for his target to come back out.

Soon, Eddie leaves the classroom and Steve springs into action. He has to keep reminding himself to remain calm, to look inconspicuous. He needs this to go smoothly, he needs to keep Eddie open to the idea of them working together or…he’s got nothing. No reason for Eddie to even consider working together.

Eddie exits the school through the back door and Steve, nervous about losing him, darts out through the doors to see which direction Eddie goes. Only once he exits, the bright sunlight momentarily blinds him. He is shoved against the wall and accosted by a head of curly hair.

It takes Steve a split second to make sense of what just happened. Two inches in front of his face is Eddie, his eyes blazing with fury and fear and large in his sight. A little to the left is his fist, held at the ready to unleash pain. Steve flinches when he realizes.

“What do you want?” Eddie grits out through his teeth.

“Hey man, it’s cool. Everything’s cool,” Steve stutters out. Though he has a slight rep as a bully, in actuality, he has never won a fight solo. Does it count as a fight if you start it with an opponent that is bound to lose?

“Why are you following me?”

“Follo—I’m not following you.”

“Yeah right. Every time I turned around you were there.”

Steve swallows, thinking quickly to diffuse the situation. “Dude, this is the student parking lot. There is one door out to it from this part of the school. If I’m following you, so is half the school.”

“Why were you there when I left the music class?”

“I was reading the bulletin board.”

“About sexually transmitted infections?”

Steve’s face burns crimson; Eddie tightens his grip, shoving Steve against the wall harder. “It’s never a bad time to brush up on your knowledge,” Steve tries, though his delivery is shaky.

Eddie smirks and it does something to Steve’s stomach, though he isn’t sure that it’s not his nerves. “Considering the stories that are told about you, I almost believe that.”

“Hey. First off, slut shaming isn’t ok. Second off, I doubt any of that is true.”

Eddie’s hold slackens. “Oh, Mr. Popular isn’t getting around with half the girls at this school?”

“No, he’s not. I haven’t had a girlfriend since the beginning of sophomore year. And I don’t sleep around.”

“Eddie, what are you doing?” A freshman pulls down Eddie’s cocked arm and stands between Eddie and Steve. “You’ve only got a few weeks left. You can’t get expelled now.”

“Don’t worry, Dustin,” Eddie bites out. “King Steve and I were just having a conversation between old pals.” He emphasizes old in a way that tells Steve he remembers their history. Or maybe that’s Steve’s guilty conscious.

If Steve wasn’t already unsettled by the last few days, the comment would’ve shaken him. Still, his voice is not it’s normal even tone when he speaks. “Yeah, I’d never let us get into a fight when we are this close to the finish line.”

Eddie catches Steve’s eye and gives him a hard look, the kind that destroys bridges before they are even built. Then he turns on his heel and walks away with any chance Steve had of proving Tommy wrong. 

“Don’t take it personally, Eddie is just grumpy. All the time,” says the freshman who basically saved Steve’s ass. “I’m Dustin.”

Steve turns back to the kid and sees he is holding his hand out. Steve takes it. “I gathered. Steve.”

“I know who you are,” Dustin says with a slight lisp. He leans in, looks around, like there is anyone there, and whispers, “I’m Team Steve by the way.”

Steve chuffs. “Right.” His mind is elsewhere, having walked away with Eddie and the tension of their encounter. 

“He’s got a lot on his mind lately, with graduation coming up and the future.” Dustin adds in a dramatic hand gesture at future. “Plus, his band mates are pressuring him to do the Battle of the Bands.”

Steve, with his eyes and his mind still on the receding form of Eddie, says, “He should. Like a last hurrah.”

Dustin grabs Steve’s arm and shakes him. “That’s what we’ve been saying!”

“Bro, chill. Hands off the threads.” 

Dustin releases quickly. “You’ve gotta help us convince him to do it.”

If this was any other day, Steve would bristle at the presumption that he would help this freshman do anything to do with Eddie Munson. But the bet changes his whole attitude. “And how would I do that?”

“You should come by the center tomorrow during Eddie’s shift and work your magic.” Dustin’s eyes get bigger with each word he says.

“My magic?”

With a big, toothy smile, Dustin agrees. “Exactly. You know where the rec center is?” Steve says he does. “Perfect. But just know, Eddie is really stubborn. You’re gonna have to try more than once, and don’t give up. It’s gonna be so good for him and the band to do this show. Usually their shows are far away from town so it’s like no one from here knows who they are, but now they can.”

“Dustin, breathe.” He pauses and takes a deep breath. “I’ll try to stop by tomorrow, but I’m not making any promises.”

“No cap?”

Steve cringes at the accurate, but somehow incorrect use of the slang. Maybe it’s Dustin’s tone. It’s too…genuine. “Yeah, I’ll do what I can.”

Just then, a van screeches to a halt in front of them and the horn goes off. Dustin ducks his head and mumbles, “See you later,” to Steve before bounding for the van. When he opens the door, Steve catches a glimpse of Eddie, still angry.

This attempt wasn’t a complete failure, he thinks as he makes his way to his own car. Dustin gave him a lead which is more than he had been able to do. He blushes again thinking of what he said in the panic of the moment. Tomorrow, he will be more prepared. He will have solid arguments for why Eddie and his band should do the Battle of the Bands and why they should let Steve help them. If he channels his inner Nancy, he can make it work.

As he gets into his car, his phone buzzes.

Robin: where r u??

Robin: not that I need to say bye 2 u

Robin: but it’s weird that u don’t need to say bye 2 me

Which reminds Steve of a whole new issue: how will he explain this to Robin and Nancy?

Chapter Text

Eddie stomps to his van, steam rising off his body as he burns with anger. How dare he. How dare Steve Harrington not only follow him, but then lie to him about following him, and lie to him in general.

He slides the side panel of the van open with a bang that shakes the whole frame. He throws his bag in and slams the door again. Then he yanks the front door open and throws himself into the front seat. Where he once again slams the door. Normally, a van as old an decrepit as his, needs a little extra force to open or close or start or brake, but this is excessive.

“The fuck?” he screams, just to let out the energy building within his body. A girl a few cars over gives him a dirty look before quickly climbing in and driving away. 

“Who does he think he is?” he asks out loud. He slams his fist against the steering wheel and the other one against the dashboard. Anything to express the absolute rage building inside.

And that’s all he can feel, all he will allow himself to feel. After everything Steve put him through freshman year—the relentless teasing, name calling, rumors, isolation—there is no way that Eddie could feel anything else. Munson Doctrine rule 11.

He is glad that Dustin came out when he did, otherwise Eddie might’ve hit Steve. Maybe more. Maybe he would have pounded his head in, broken his nose or his jaw. Let Steve’s blood coat his knuckles, mix with his own as the skin breaks. The idea isn’t something he would ever act on, he realizes that as he calms down, as the images flowing through his mind soothe the wounds from the past.

He starts the car and recklessly backs out of his parking space. When he pulls up to the back door, where he correctly assumed Dustin would be, he sees him talking to Steve. Smiling like he is meeting a celebrity. Eddie honks the horn as angrily as he can. Dustin dips his head and mopes over.

He climbs in and closes the door. “Sorry, Edd—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Eddie bites out. No anger, not at Dustin, just firm. Munson Doctrine rule 4.

Later, when he is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and turning the interaction over and over in his brain, he makes a decision. Steve was following him for a reason, regardless of what Steve would admit and maybe that something will push him to try again. Now it’s no guarantee that Steve will come back around, but if he does—and that’s a big if—Eddie will allow it. Munson Doctrine rule 26, karma is a bitch but sometimes you’ve gotta be one too. If Steve suddenly wants to act like nothing happened between them, act like they could be friends, Eddie will take the opportunity to get something out of it.

Revenge.

Chapter Text

Steve decides to visit the rec center the day after his encounter with Eddie. It’ll give him time to cool off and forget that Steve was following him. Or at least, that’s what Steve tells himself because if their next interaction is as intense as their first run in, Steve will be rethinking this bet.

Before he can leave school, Robin stops by his locker. “What is it?” she asks before he can even say hello.

“Hello to you too,” he grumbles into his locker.

“Something is going on,” Robin insists. “Don’t try to pull the wool over my eyes.”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I have a math quiz tomorrow that I’m fairly stressed about. And we’re reading some book is English that—”

“Steve.”

He looks at her and she looks back from under her fringe. “Nothing is up, Robs. I’m just dealing with it. Feeling my feelings and all that.”

“You haven’t been around a lot.”

“I’m not purposefully trying to avoid you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Around them, students shout at each other about practice schedules, homework, and after school plans. The crowd splashes at Steve’s back as he digs through his locker, organizing for tomorrow and looking for stray papers.

“You’ll tell me if something changes, right?”

Steve turns to catch Robin’s eye. “What are soulmates for? Since the technology to allow us to read each others’ minds hasn’t been invented yet, I will just have to settle for old fashion communication.” He reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she ducks away before he can.

Nancy appears at her side, kissing her check and ruffling her hair, not realizing that Steve was just trying to do the same. “Study party at my house?” Nancy asks them.

“Sure thing,” Robin says and turns to Steve.

“I’ve got plans.”

Robin and Nancy share a look and Steve feels the need to respond. “It’s not sitting at home moping. I’m actually going to the rec center to check out a group thing. Expanding my horizons and all that.”

Nancy’s mouth forms an O in interest. “That sounds fun. Let us know how it is.” She slides her arm through Robin’s and starts to tug her away.

Steve shouts at them. “There better be actual studying at this study party.”

Robin flips him off as they round the corner.

On the drive through town, he tries out phrases and tones that he thinks might get through to Eddie. At one light, he gets strange looks from the people in the car next to him as he gestures and talks to himself. When he catches them, he gestures a phone with his hand as an excuse, but the dirty looks remain. 

This routine isn’t anything new. Ever since entering high school, he has spent time at home practicing his personality. He hardly ever did homework because he spent so much time perfecting who he was to the outside world. Like his dad taught him, presentation makes the man—and how he does that through speech is as important as his hair and clothes. It feels all the more important to have a good presentation given the poor presentation of the other day…and freshman year. But he fully believes people can change, himself and Eddie, so he’s got to try.

The center looks empty when he pulls up to the parking lot, but once he walks in the front doors, he hears the screaming of children. It stops him in his tracks and the older woman at the desk notices and laughs. “Don’t worry, hon. That’s just the sound of the little ones having fun. No murders here.”

He laughs with her and plays along. “How can you tell the difference?”

“The key is tone and pitch,” she says with a smile. “What can I do ya for? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I’m looking for someone. Eddie Munson?”

She smiles and nods her head. “Ah, the dungeon master,” she says as if Steve shouldn’t be concerned by that pair of words. “He’ll be in the teen room. Take the stairs down the hall to the left.”

“Thanks so much,” Steve says with a smile. “I hope the screams of joy continue.”

Steve takes the hall to the stairs. At the top is a little landing that ends in a door. Through the window that takes up the top half of the door, Steve can see teens sitting around a screen playing a video game. Strangely, he can barely hear them. As soon as the door is open though, the sound hits him. It’s a cacophony of screaming, so much so that he can’t make heads or tails of it. A quick glance tells him that none of the teens currently yelling at the screen are Eddie. Instead, Steve sees him sitting at a back table and heads for him.

When Eddie looks up from what he is doing, his face shifts through customer service face to hate and anger to curious. It doesn’t help Steve feel more at ease as he approaches the table. When he is close enough, Steve sort of curtsies and tilts the top half of his body to the side as he waves and grimaces. “Hey.” He draws it out, like the longer he says it, the more apologetic it will sound.

“Steve,” Eddie says. He almost manages to not make it sound like an accusation. “What are you doing here?” Eddie leans back from the table, pushing his rolling chair back to turn to Steve.

This seems promising. Steve walks around to Eddie and leans back against the table, trying to adopt the same casual posture as him. “Well, yesterday Dustin mentioned that he comes here sometimes to hang so I thought I’d check it out.”

“Right,” Eddie says, clearly not believing him but willing to entertain the idea. “This is the teen room. We keep them separate from the younger kids which hang out downstairs.”

“Must be where the screaming was coming from.”

Eddie pauses for the smallest moment, taken aback by the comment, before smiling. “It does take some getting used to.” He looks over at the teens, who are still occupied with their game, before shooting a quick glance back at Steve.

“So what do you do here?” Steve looks down at his feet, a sheepish grin on his face. “I have to admit, I was surprised to learn that you work here.”

“What? I can’t be nurturing?”

Steve scans Eddie, from his all black clothing that screams metal-head to the uninterested tilt of his lips, and admits defeat. He rubs the back of his neck as he says, “I guess I assumed you wouldn’t be.”

Eddie relaxes. “I wasn’t at first. This started as a DnD group that I ran once a week, but the director thought I could do more. We still do the DnD group, but most afternoons I just make sure they don’t kill themselves or each other. Give them a place to hang out that is safe.”

“That is admirable. I wish I had a place like this growing up.”

Eddie scowls. “Oh like Mr. Popular didn’t have plenty of friends vying for the chance to hang out with him.”

“Actually—”

“Steve!” A familiar voice shouts from behind him. Steve hadn’t noticed that the sounds of shouting had dulled as the game ended.

Dustin appears next to him and holds his hand out for a dap, which Steve readily gives. “I’m so glad you came. Guys look,” Dustin says to the group still by the TV. “I told you I knew Steve Harrington. Come meet everyone.”

Steve stands and follows Dustin, Eddie slowly follows behind them. As Dustin rattles off the names and attributes of each kid, Steve does his best to remember each name. He is familiar with Mike because he is Nancy’s brother, though they rarely interacted when Steve dated Nancy and he never sees him now. And Lucas played basketball on the freshman team. But Will, Elle, and Max are new to him.

“We didn’t believe Dustin when he told us you were coming,” Elle says after the introductions are over.

Max adds, “Yeah because in what world would Steve Harrington come to our lame hang out space?”

Steve pouts his lip out dramatically and looks around. “It looks like that would be this world. Because here is your space and here I am.”

Max rolls her eyes so hard her head and neck follow, but he notes the small uptick at the corner of her mouth.

“Why are you here?” Mike blurts out. Always straight to the point that one.

“Well, to see my buddy, Dustin, here.” Steve pats Dustin’s shoulder which causes a huge smile to break out on his face. All of the group but Mike seem awed by it. “And to talk to your leader.” He hikes a thumb over his shoulder at Eddie who stands glowering behind them.

“No one ever wants to talk to Eddie,” Max retorts. “Unless they want to buy drugs,” she adds under her breath.

“I heard that,” Eddie adds in a monotone voice. 

“Guys,” Dustin says. He leans in to whisper, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. “He’s here to help us convince Eddie to do Battle of the Bands.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “That’s my cue to walk away.” He returns to the back of the room and his work.

Steve is about to join him, determined to make headway in winning the bet, but Lucas stops him before he can. “Want to play Mario Kart this round?”

Steve grins. “I’m not good, but I can play a round.”

Four rounds later, Steve hands the controller to Elle. “That’s it. I know when to call it quits.”

“Oh come on,” Max says. “I want to crush you some more.”

“Maybe another time.” Steve nods his head back at Eddie before beckoning all the teens close. “I’ve got business to attend to with the boss man. Do me a favor and be on your best behavior so I can work my magic.”

“I told you,” Dustin hiss-whispers. Lucas holds his finger up to his lips to shush him.

Steve saunters back to the table and pulls out the chair next to Eddie. “You don’t have to do that,” he says to the table top.

“What?”

“Pretend to be nice and want to spend time with them.” Eddie shifts his eyes to Steve. “It’ll only hurt more when you don’t keep up the lie later.”

Steve scrunches up his face. “Who says I’m pretending. I had fun being beaten to a pulp by those freshman.”

Eddie doesn’t take his eyes off Steve, scanning every inch of his face like he is looking for a tell, something to show him that Steve is lying. 

Steve decides to steer the conversation away. Eddie’s gaze is intrusive, an x-ray that reveals more than bone. “So the Battle of the Bands.”

“My band mates have already tried to convince me.”

“Convince you?” Steve asks. “Are you seriously not doing it? You’re in a band and this would be a chance to expand your reach.”

Eddie scoffs. “Like Hawkins High kids want to listen to metal.”

“Have you asked them? Have you played them your music?”

“Of course not.”

“Why?”

“Because—” Eddie stops. The reasons are there on the tip of his tongue but as he considers telling them to Steve, they seem inadequate and hollow. 

Steve watches him. After a moment, he deflates with a sigh. Gently, Steve asks, “Would you, and your band, be willing to try? Maybe they’ll be more interest than you think.”

Eddie chews on his lips. “What are you suggesting?”

Steve folds his hands on his lap. “That you sign up for the Battle of the Bands—” Eddie starts to interrupt but Steve holds up a finger— “It’s not legally binding. If you decide you don’t want to go in that direction, you can just drop out.”

“Ok.” Eddie draws it out, watching Steve for what else he might suggest.

“And to allow more people to listen to your music before the show. Not just the video during the voting period.”

Eddie sits back in his chair and folds his arms. It’s clear to Steve that he’s thinking, which seems reasonable to Steve. He is asking basically a complete stranger to do this with flimsy reasons as to why. At any moment, Eddie could turn this back on Steve and ask why he cares so much and Steve would be caught. He isn’t a disinterested party in this conversation. And he can’t tell Eddie that he’s using him to get back at someone. Though it’s possible Eddie would also want to get back at Tommy, he doesn’t think Eddie would want to join forces with him to do it. 

“So what did you have in mind?”

Unfortunately, Steve didn’t miraculously come up with the right idea to share Eddie’s music with the school on the spot.

Instead, he plays a few more rounds of Mario Kart with the kids. Even challenging Eddie to a race, and then one more, and then the best out of three when he lost again. “Face it, Harrington,” Eddie teases, “You can’t be perfect at everything.”

Steve has so much fun that he looses track of time and before he knows it, Eddie tells the kids to pack up for the day because the center is closing. Steve almost joins in with the teens’ whining. He stays back to help Eddie clean up and they walk to the parking lot together. At Eddie’s van, Steve asks, “Could I get your number in case I come up with a good idea in the middle of the night?” It sounds smooth like butter.

Later, he holds his phone in his hands, thumb hovering over the send button on a message to Eddie, second guessing himself. Things between him and Eddie flowed at the center. There was no fear from Eddie and in response, Steve didn’t think once about the past and regrets. He presses send.

Steve: What do you think about hijacking morning announcements?

He stares at his phone. Nothing comes through. 

He stares some more. A few minutes pass and still nothing.

Eddie’s phone looked old when he pulled it out to check the message Steve sent. Not flip phone ancient, but nothing new. Steve tells himself a watched phone never rings and heads to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When he returns, there is a new message.

Eddie: I think you may have converted me to you plan

Chapter Text

“A reminder that the Hawkins High Battle of the Bands is four weeks away. If your band wants to compete, make sure to sign up by next week and follow all instructions for voting media submission,” the student announcer reads over the intercom. “And students, it’s up to you who makes it to the final stage. Download the Hawkins High app to vote daily for your favorite band. Voting starts in two weeks.”

Steve heads down the empty hallway toward the student news offices. He spent last night working out as much of the particulars as he could, so that when he approaches Nancy and Robin for their help, they are more likely to agree. Robin especially won’t like this new development in his social life. Or more that Steve is only just now mentioning it. She’d like it even less if she knew the root of this new acquaintance but he’s going to keep that quiet for as long as he can. Preferably forever. 

The door to the news offices has a sign saying ‘keep out: broadcast in progress’. Steve ignores it since he is on a mission.

He’d been in the offices once when they weren’t working on programming and he pulls from his memories to find his way now. He finds Robin behind a desk, large headphones on and a panel of knobs in front of her. Nancy stands behind her, a clipboard held close to her chest as she monitors the announcements.

“How’d you get in here?” Robin asks when Steve places a hand on her shoulder.

“Didn’t you know, I am a master of stealth.”

“I’ve seen you trip on air,” Robin shoots back.

Steve grips his chest. “You wound me.”

Nancy looks up from her clipboard, finally noticing Steve. “What are you doing here?”

In the other room, the students continue reading the announcements, though they can’t hear it through the walls. “I have a big favor to ask, but before I ask, I gotta tell you guys something.”

Robin doesn’t look up from her soundboard. “I’m guessing it’s urgent since you are ditching class and not reading signs to do it.”

“I mean no one is going to die if I don’t talk to you…”

“But?” Nancy taps her pencil against her clipboard while looking sideways at Steve.

“I’d like to update you on something. I don’t want my friends to feel I’m keeping things from them.”

They finish up the morning announcements, Robin and Nancy making excuses to duck out so they can talk to Steve. “Girl stuff,” they say to their male teacher. “You understand,” they say as he grimaces.

Once free, Steve leads them to an empty corner of the school. “So what’s the big secret?” Robin asks once they stop.

“Yesterday when I went to the rec center,” Steve starts. He runs a hand through his hair because he’s nervous. He tells himself he is nervous because while he is telling the girls about Eddie, he isn’t telling them about the bet with Tommy. “I went to see Eddie.”

Nancy is bemused; she looks at Robin to read her face. Robin’s mouth hangs open in shock. “Who’s Eddie?” Nancy asks.

“You mean Eddie Munson?” Robin asks.

Realization hits Nancy and she turns back to Steve. “Did you finally—”

Steve holds up his hands. “Guys, hold on. Yes, Eddie Munson. And no, Nancy, it wasn’t about that.”

“So why did you go to see him?”

This is it, this is where Steve has to lie to his best friends in the world and it needs to be good. “I ran into him the other day and we got to talking. He saw the whole Tommy thing and felt bad.” Steve runs his hand through his hair again. “Anyway, he invited me to hang out at the rec center so I did.”

Robin raises an eyebrow; Nancy closes her mouth. “That is…unexpected,” says Robin.

“You’re telling me,” Steve mumbles. 

“And this is what you broke into the media classroom for?” asks Nancy.

“No. Actually, I need a favor. It’s for Eddie.”

“A favor?” Robin asks as Nancy says, “For Eddie.”

“His band is competing in the Battle of the Bands and they need to get more chatter. I would like them to play during the morning announcements.”

Nancy crosses her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Come on, Nance. You won’t get in trouble. You don’t have to be there when it happens, just help me covertly.”

Robin turns to Nancy and puts her hands on Nancy’s shoulders. “Babe, I know this is not what you were picturing when we were talking about it last night, but this could be the thing.”

“Thing?” asks Steve, though they ignore him.

“I wasn’t being serious when I said all that,” Nancy groans.

Robin unwraps Nancy’s arms and places them around her waist. “That may be the case, but I think you have it in you to do this. Pull this off and not only will you go down as the valedictorian of our class, editor of the newspaper, producer of the school news, and voted most likely to succeed but no one would be able to top this senior prank for a generation.”

Nancy purses her lips and bows her head. 

“What is happening?” Steve asks, but they ignore him still.

“You’ll be there?”

Robin nods. “Of course. I’d never dream of letting you do this on your own.”

They kiss, Robin holding Nancy’s face, Nancy pulling her close. Steve turns away, blushing. He doesn’t feel weird that he and his best friend have dated—and slept with—the same girl, but seeing them happily make out in front of him is a bit strange.

“Ok, we’ll do it,” Robin says behind him.

Steve turns back to them. “I knew I could count on you.”

At lunch, Steve asks Eddie and his band mates to meet them at the media classrooms to go over a plan. They come on time, though they look a bit hesitant to be there. As soon as Eddie’s band mates see Steve though, they tense and stand straighter, book ending Eddie between them.

“Eddie, this is Robin and Nancy,” Steve says by way of introduction.

Nancy sticks out her hand to shake, and Eddie and his friends do the same. Eddie gestures to his left at the short, floppy haired band mate. “This is Gareth.” And then to his right at the tall, Black band mate. “This is Jeff.”

Gareth and Jeff stare Steve down and he thinks he knows why, but they aren’t here about that. They are here for the band to get more recognition and Steve chooses to focus on that.

“Nancy and Robin work on the morning announcements. They’ll be able to help us pull this off.”

“But,” Robin says, “our teacher, Mr. Bauman won’t like us doing this, so we have to hide you somewhere.”

Gareth takes their eyes off Steve. “Would the band room work? It’s obvious but also all the way on the other end of campus.”

Jeff nods, eyes still boring into Steve. “And the sound won’t give us away since the walls are more soundproof than other classrooms.”

“Yes, that could work,” Nancy agrees.

“We’d need to get Troy to help us out, he’d be able to do the camera work,” Robin adds.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. I know how to motivate him.” 

“So, what’s the plan?” Eddie asks, spinning the rings on his right hand.

“If y’all can get the instruments set up in the band room this weekend, we will make sure you are played in the announcements on Monday,” Robin says.

“Guys?” Eddie asks, looking at his friends. Jeff finally takes his eyes off Steve to look back at Eddie.

“Is that a problem?” Nancy asks. “The longer we take to plan this out, the higher the likelihood that we are caught. Plus, the Battle of the Bands is coming up soon. No time like the present.”

Eddie’s eyes focus on Gareth, then Jeff. “We’re in.”

“So, are you going to elaborate on this?” Jeff asks that Sunday as they cart their gear into the school. Nancy gave them an extra key she has to get in and out of the school when she needs—perks of being the student council president—and said they need to unload in the early hours of the morning, before any school staff gets there.

Eddie lugs in a big amp, sweat already building under his long hair. “Nancy said this is how we avoid the teachers knowing something’s up.”

Gareth sets down one of their snare drums. “Don’t be thick, Eddie. We mean Steve Harrington.”

“Oh, that.” Eddie puts down the amp, then with an unexpected speed, he lifts his hair up and ties it into a bun with a ponytail from his wrist. “Was hoping you didn’t notice that.”

“That you are talking to your bully?” Jeff scoffs.

Gareth adds, “And that he is helping us with the Battle of the Bands.”

Eddie walks back out to the van for the next load of equipment. “It’s not what you think. He’s popular and we need the recognition to win.”

“So you expect us to believe he just offered to help you out of the blue?” Gareth walks beside Eddie, his arms gesturing wildly.

“Well, no. I don’t know why he offered to help.” They reach the back of the van and grab more equipment. “But I’m going to take advantage of it while I can.”

“And what if he turns on you? There goes all that popular clout.” Jeff lifts the bass drum.

“I’ll make sure he won’t. Not until he gets what’s coming to him and we get on that stage.”

They walk down the hallway in silence. Gareth speaks up once they’ve unloaded. “Does that mean you have a plan that you aren’t telling us?”

“Gotta keep it close to the vest.” Eddie pats his jean battle vest. “Don’t want you two culpable for anything. Let’s just say that it’s time I got what I wanted.”

The bell rings for the end of first period on Monday and Steve rushes out into the hallway. He pulls a camera from the pocket of his backpack before slinging it over his shoulder. Since the band will need a video submission to make it to the stage, Steve figures he can help out by filming some of this stunt. If the school likes it, then putting it in their submission might give them a leg up over the other bands. 

As he squeezes through the crowds, he starts filming. He figures that the choppy nature of the video will fit with the band’s music. Steve hasn’t heard their music before, but based on Eddie’s style, he has a few guesses on what it will sound like. 

Up ahead, he sees Jeff quickly heading for the band hallway. Steve points the camera at Jeff as he is jostled by other students. Gareth joins a moment later from the opposite side of the hallway, hurrying just as much. The announcements will start soon and they need to be ready to play before that.

Nancy and Robin spent time yesterday evening setting things up on their end of the connection. Robin stayed even later to ensure that Jeff, who seemed the most technically capable, would be able to finish the connection just before the broadcast goes out. Nancy had a story to cover so Steve stayed with Robin to give her a ride home.

He had considered going to the rec center to hang out with Eddie and the kids, figuring it would be good for the bet. Getting to know Eddie more will help him know how to present him to the rest of the school in a way that they will take in and ask for more. 

This train of thought is interrupted when the man himself appears a few feet ahead of him. Steve moves behind Eddie for the last sprint to the little used practice room where they will be broadcasting from. Eddie’s curly hair bounces as he struts down the hall, clearly on a mission. There might be something here, Steve thinks to himself as he films Eddie from a wide shot to a close up, just as they make it to the room. Steve stops the filming and greets them.

“Are you ready? Nervous?” Steve turns to Eddie as he lifts the guitar strap over his head, pulling his hair out from underneath it.

Eddie grins, the corners of his mouth growing pointy as his lips get smaller. The smile is part glee and part menace, the confusion of a predator baring its teeth. It does something to Steve. He can’t put his finger on what except that it reminds him of his childhood friendship with Tommy, not what it became later. It reminds him of the moments before they did something foolish and reckless and ultimately, riotously fun. 

“Steve, you can’t be nervous when you are doing what you were born to do.” His eyes find Steve’s. “But I am ready.”

Jeff stands from his position by the wall. “We’re connected.”

Steve’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out as the app he and Robin downloaded to sync this whole thing up hits ten seconds. He opens his phone, selects the app, and shows it to the trio.

“Five, four, three.” Steve’s heart has picked up, like in the last seconds of a close basketball game. The scores separated by one point, your team is ahead and in possession. Winning feels in the balance but you can see the road you need to take to make it happen. “Two, one.”

Gareth counts them out before Eddie hits the first notes. He isn’t thinking, isn’t directing his fingers in any sort of conscious way. It is the way that his brain keeps his heart beating and his lungs breathing and blood flowing, and his fingers dancing over the strings of his guitar. Jeff and Gareth are there with him, syncing up together to make something bigger than the individual, bigger than all of them. 

They can’t hear the announcements from this room, but it’s not his job to think about that aspect of things. All he focuses on now is the way the music vibrates through the amps, vibrates through his fingers, up his arms to his soul. 

He approaches the microphone, takes a deep breath, and belts out the first verse. The debate over song choice took all day and night. Gareth thought they should do a cover to play on the potential for recognition from the student body. But Jeff and Eddie felt they should go with an original song as their covers are of popular metal songs, a genre most of the student body avoids despite claims of ‘I listen to everything’ being endemic among their peers. Jeff and Eddie differed in which song they should choose.

Ultimately Eddie won.

He chose a song with themes that are universal at this age: being powerless, growing bigger than the space you live, and being ready to break out. It is an interesting song because of its structure, but that works for the prank they are pulling. It composes a series of verses, like a poem, but each builds on the other to create the whole. 

Eddie finds himself behaving like he is on stage, though they don’t have an audience besides Steve. Nine months of traveling to Indianapolis each weekend for a set at Rogue Hideout, a grungy underground bar where the audience is so tough that they will cut the power to the stage if they aren’t enjoying your set, if you can’t entertain them, has toughened him. They were kicked out more than once, but they learned. As the verse finishes, Eddie steps back and spreads his stance, hanging his head so that his hair hangs over his face. Then, he head bangs, letting his curls whip and bounce around his face. 

Before too long, Eddie steps back up to the mic, Jeff doing the same to his left. As he looks over at Jeff, Eddie sees Steve from the corner of his eye, holding a camera up, pointed at them. 

But he doesn’t have time to deal with this incongruous jumble of images that his mind conjures up. His mouth opens without his direction and the lyrics of the second verse pour over his tongue. 

Steve catches Eddie’s eye as he looks over the camera. Eddie tries to read the look on his face. Is he enjoying it? Is he shocked? Is that the corner of his mouth pushing upwards in a smile? Eddie finds his mouth returning the gesture in kind. He hopes that whatever image Steve had of him is shattered, that he no longer looks like the skinny defenseless potentially gay kid that Steve and Tommy targeted freshman year.

He finds that the fire that normally burns with his anger at them is lessened as his fingers fly over the strings of his guitar, as his voice belts out the words of a song he wrote. In this moment—and he swears it is just this moment and the specific conditions there in—the fear and caution of Steve doesn’t loom so large in his brain. Eddie is able to admit that Steve is human, that maybe Eddie doesn’t know everything about the situation, that perhaps Steve might feel guilty over it. He doesn’t know and he doesn’t want to ever ask, but he is able to loosen the clench of his jaw as the memory floats through his mind.

With the second verse over, Eddie steps back again, preparing for the guitar solo. Steve moves to stand in front of him and Eddie looks at him, smirks then sticks his tongue out before shredding the solo.

This is the reason he chose this song, from all the other songs he’s written. Yes, there are the themes that his peers might relate to. But if he is going to be known for anything, if people vote for them, if the band makes it to the battle stage he wants them to know that he is talented. This is a popularity contest, it’s true. That doesn’t mean that Eddie has to fall victim to the tendency of musicians to dumb down their skill for fame. 

Eddie finishes the solo, not having messed up once, and steps to the mic for the final time in the song. The energy of the solo pumps through his body so that his voice, as he sings the words of the verse, is that much more resonate. 

The rest of the song is smooth sailing. As Eddie strums out the final notes, much slower and softer than the majority of the song, the reality of the situation hits him. Going to Rogue Hideout every weekend to fail in front of an audience of metal heads pales in comparison to an audience of high school students that have ostracized him in the past. 

The song ends, the final echo from the amps silenced, and Eddie looks to Steve. He wouldn’t be able to articulate this himself, but what he wants is reassurance. A sign that the popular class of mean kids might not lash out over this act of rebellion. Or, if that was to be the case, a sign so that he can prepare himself, so that he can run. 

This ‘prank’ lasted all of three minutes, four tops, and in the absence of the music, Eddie feels a drop of confidence.

Steve walks up to Eddie as he pulls the guitar over his head. Under Steve’s gaze, Eddie is aware that he is covered in sweat and that his breath is coming hard and fast. This is normal after a show, if anything it is hardly anything at all, but with Steve a few feet away it feels forbidden for him to be human.

“Eddie,” Steve exclaims, his voice breathy. “That was amazing!” Each word comes out at a snail’s pace, but there is an undercurrent of something that Eddie is unused to from people his own age. Awe.

Eddie’s cheeks heat instantly. “Steve, you don’t have to—”

“What? Compliment you? Share how much I enjoyed that?”

Gareth comes out from behind their drums and responds for Eddie. “I’ll take any compliments you wish to give. That felt fantastic.” Gareth pumps their fist in the air.

“It was almost as good as the night we made it through our whole set at Rogue Hideout,” adds Jeff as he stands from the floor and disconnecting things.

Eddie can’t help but be drawn in to their excitement. “If the school responds half as good as that, we’ll be set.”

“They are going to love it,” Steve gushes. “It was unexpected and loud and a big fuck you to the school. Even the popular kids will see how cool that is.”

“We better get back to class,” Jeff says. “Can’t be too late.”

Eddie isn’t worried about being late as his grades aren’t the greatest and what’s being a few minutes late compared to that. But Jeff, Gareth, and Steve head to the door, so he follows.

Just outside the door, Steve reaches into his pocket for his phone. After a moment, he says, “Looks like Mr. Bauman has lost his cool.” His thumbs move over the screen as he types out a response.

“Are Robin and Nancy ok?”

Steve laughs. “They are journalists. Keeping the secrecy of their sources is something they can do in their sleep. They’ll be riding the high of this little rebellion for weeks.”

Eddie thinks he will as well.

His hall comes up quick and he turns down it without saying goodbye. It’s not like they are friends now, despite the rush of the last few minutes.

When he is ten feet away, Steve calls out to him. “You were truly fantastic, Eddie Munson.”

There is no one around them so it’s not like Steve is risking anything to do it. That doesn’t stop Eddie’s heart from slamming on the breaks as it makes a sudden turn. He only slows a little at Steve’s words as he keeps walking toward class. 

What could he say to that? His bully—should he say former now?—complimenting him, helping him pull off a hijacking of a school activity to play metal music? He didn’t know that a measly five minutes could turn his world upside down, but it seems to have done it anyway.

The rest of the periods before lunch, Steve can’t stop thinking about Eddie—he means the band and what they pulled off. And he isn’t the only one. The morning announcements are normally ignored, even when talking about interesting topics like dances or the Battle of the Bands, one of the more attended events at the school. 

But in every class, he hears students recounting where they were when they heard and then asking each other what they thought. Sure there are some dissenters, but Steve hears far more students saying they thought it was cool.

In the final fifteen minutes of fourth period, Steve pulls out his phone to text Eddie.

Steve: Have you heard of this band everyone is talking about? Corroded something I think

He knows Eddie won’t text back right away, but he keeps the phone in his hand, wanting to respond back right away. After what seems like only a few minutes, his phone buzzes.

Eddie: 😂 I guess your plan was a success

Steve: Where do you normally hang out at lunch? 

Again, he waits with phone in hand, hoping that texting back right away means that he caught Eddie before he put his phone away. But he has no such luck, the bell rings before Steve gets a response back.

In the hallway, Steve looks for Eddie, or if he could see Jeff or Gareth that would be helpful too. He’d even settle for one of the freshman, just someone who might know where Eddie spends his lunch. As he heads for the cafeteria, eyes scanning the hallway for the telltale sign of curly hair, he sees Dustin.

“Hey, have you seen Eddie? Do you know where he spends his lunch?”

Dustin seems stunned by Steve talking to him at school. “Hey, Steve, buddy,” he bellows so that the other students in the hall stop and stare, an outcome that Dustin seems to have wanted. He offers his hand to Steve, which he takes, and Dustin pulls him in for an awkward dap. The smile on Dustin’s face is so big that Steve doesn’t have the heart to chastise him.

“Eddie?” he asks again. 

Dustin adjusts his backpack on his shoulder. “Yeah, normally we hang out in the cafeteria, but I saw him head to the student parking lot a minute ago.”

“Thanks.” Steve pats his shoulder as he heads past him.

If he hurries, maybe he will catch Eddie before he ditches for the rest of the day or goes off campus for lunch. This is a right for juniors and seniors at Hawkins High but Steve rarely does it as Nancy or Robin usually has something to volunteer for over lunch. He’s just gotten in the habit of waiting for them or helping them out. That and Tommy wanted to stick around to torment other kids—though he’d never openly admitted that to Steve.

Out in the parking lot, Steve sees Eddie walking toward his old van. At first, Steve wasn’t sure what to make of the van; it’s a workman’s van or often, jokingly, called a murder van. Now he sees that it fits Eddie’s whole vibe. Steve can almost see a mural of a wizard or a unicorn in Eddie’s future along the side panel. 

He runs to catch up, calling out Eddie’s name to grab his attention. Eddie turns around the fourth time Steve calls his name, pulling a corded headphone from his ear.

“I thought I heard someone calling me.” He stops and waits for Steve to catch up. While he waits, he unplugs his headphones from his phone and carefully wraps them up before placing them in the pocket over his heart in the vest he always wears.

“Yeah,” Steve says when he catches up, only a little out of breath. “You never texted me back after my last message and I wanted to…” Steve pauses, unsure if he should be honest. He wants to catch up with Eddie and compare notes on how the school responded to their little prank. But is that too…desperate?

It feels funny thinking that. It’s usually something he says about girls that he is seeing who want a more serious relationship with him. And he wants a serious relationship, it’s not like he is avoiding it—he isn’t sure where this line of thinking is coming from.

“Steve?” Eddie breaks through his mental spiral.

Steve stops thinking and just speaks. “I wanted to hear your thoughts on this morning. And what you’ve heard from everyone else.”

Eddie smiles and moves toward his van. “Step into my office.” He slides the side door open to a normal van seat arrange. Steve isn’t sure why he expected something else. But then Eddie fiddles with something under the pilot seat closest to him and it spins to face the middle of the van. Then he climbs in and does the same thing with the other one before plopping down in it. 

Steve follows, ducking to avoid hitting the roof. “Should I close the door?” Eddie nods and Steve pulls it shut behind him.

“Welcome to my office,” Eddie says, continuing the joke. Steve glances around. There is one more row of seats and carpet on the floor. He thinks he can see the neck of a guitar sticking out from the back. The van looks like a teen vehicle, much like his own, with dirt on the floor and detritus forgotten from road trips or coffee shop runs. Though, he notes, it does smell of weed. A smell Steve recognizes because he is no fuddy-duddy that eschews a puff now and then.

“It looks normal,” he says turning back to Eddie and settling back in the seat.

Eddie puts on a mock offended face, his mouth opening wide and contorting while his eyebrows press down over his nose. “How dare you call me normal.”

Steve chuckles. “I was half expecting a pentagram. You’re going soft, Munson.”

“Those are usually done in chalk, easy to erase.”

Steve raises his eyebrows and smirks at Eddie before changing the subject. “Did you hear as much positive talk from everyone as I did?”

“Did I?” Eddie almost shouts. “Steve, I never thought I’d hear the words Corroded Coffin come out of Tammy Thompson’s mouth, let alone with a positive tone.”

“What’d she say?” Steve says leaning toward Eddie. Eddie’s energy is infectious, he is learning.

“She hated our music,” he almost crows, which causes Steve to smile. “But she did say that we were ‘badass, no cap’ for pulling it off.”

“That’s high praise.”

“Great minds.” Eddie taps the side of his head and then points at Steve.

“Sorry, I have to ask,” Steve says. He watches Eddie’s face shift to cautious in an instant. Steve hurries to ask his question to show it’s nothing bad. “This chair spinning thing didn’t come standard in this old van, did it?”

Relief washes over Eddie, the tension melting from his body. “No. It’s my dad’s old car and we put in the track together when I was like nine or ten maybe.”

Steve’s heart clenches as it always does when others talk of their relationships with their parents. It’s not that Steve’s parents are bad. They aren’t abusive or neglectful of his needs, except for maybe attention or having a parent around. They are gone so often for work that he hardly ever sees them, and if he sees one, the other is never there. He’s always suspected that this arrangement is intentional by them, to avoid each other and facing the truth of their relationship. Or lack there of.

But he is still curious, so he asks, “Are you close with your dad?”

Eddie scoffs and then lets out a curt bark. Steve tilts his head, confused by this reaction. Eddie shakes his head. “I’m not close with him. Maybe you think from that quick snippet from my life that we are, but to give you a more clear picture my dad lifted these tracks from his work. They let him go, though they couldn’t outright prove he stole them. The whole time we worked on this, he belittled me and drank and smoked.”

Steve grimaces. “Is he still around? Do you live with him?” If he does, Steve sees why Eddie would be willing to hang out at the rec center with so many screaming kids.

“He’s downstate doing five to ten on a B&E. He actually went down for that shortly after we finished installing these. I got the van because my Uncle Wayne, who I live with now, fought with his mom, my grandma, to have dad give me something for once. His words. Lucky for me the van wasn’t in his name.”

Steve takes this in. It is more information than he has ever known about Eddie, and it doesn’t explain him exactly, just clarifies. Like when a camera refocuses on a closer object. He guesses he was quiet too long because Eddie speaks up again. “No need to feel sorry for me there Steve. This isn’t a pity party.”

Steve shakes his head. “That’s not it, I’m just adding it to the Eddie Munson picture I have in my head.”

Eddie narrows his eyes for a second before looking away, but Steve catches it nonetheless. It tells Steve that Eddie still doesn’t trust him. And if Steve is being honest, Eddie shouldn’t trust him. He has ulterior motives for this interaction, even if he is enjoying it on its face.

“Your song was great this morning, by the way. Is it a cover?”

“I wrote it,” Eddie says, almost a whisper. 

The change is so sudden compared to his brazen confession about his dad and the silliness that they entered the van with, that Steve notes it. This is serious for Eddie. “Wow,” he breaths. “That is beyond cool.”

“It’s nothing,” Eddie brushes it off.

“Bull,” Steve counters. “I doubt anyone else at this school has written and performed their own music. That is something special.”

Eddie dodges the compliment like a car. “Were you filming us this morning?”

Steve lets him change the subject. “Yeah. I was thinking. You know how you have to submit a video for voting? I know a thing or two about editing and what works for this demographic. I was thinking I’d offer my services to help make that video and if you accepted, it would be cool to include footage of the prank. It would be like brand recognition. People might be more likely to vote for you.” 

Steve exhales, realizing that he said all that in a rush. It isn’t like him to be nervous selling himself. Sure he practices it a million times before hand, whether a presentation or a social interaction, but this feels different. By offering this he is furthering the bet, but he is also staying close to Eddie and increasing the chances that he will bring up freshman year. A topic that Steve wouldn’t know what he should say about it. 

“Really?” Eddie asks, obviously skeptical of Steve and his motives for doing this.

Steve thinks at his feet. “Serious, bro. When I started filming, I figured if y’all sucked I could always delete the footage and never mention the offer to you. But you more than didn’t suck.”

“Thanks,” Eddie says in a monotone, before cracking a smile. “Let me run it by the guys. Gotta make these decisions as a group.”

Steve was half hoping that Eddie would jump at the chance, but now he sees that was foolish. “Of course, but if they agree I was thinking that I could get more film from your practices. Where do you practice?”

Eddie pulls a can of nuts from the console in the front row and pops one in his mouth. “Usually in Jeff’s parent’s garage but they aren’t always happy about it.”

“Not metal fans?”

Eddie laughs through his nose and rolls his eyes. “You have no idea.”

There is no clear reason for them to continue to associate. Steve knows he needs to give them one and he has one more card to play. “You know, if they ever kick you out, you guys can practice at my house. My parents are never home and we have a huge basement where you could set up. Plus, I live outside of town so there are no neighbors to complain about the noise.”

Eddie narrows his eyes at Steve again before tilting to dig for another nut. He catches it again and wonders if he pushed too far. “Talk to Jeff and Gareth obvs, just a thought.”

Just then his phone buzzes with a text from Robin.

Robin: Where u at

Steve: talking 2 EM

“Robin is wondering where I’m at,” Steve says, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I better go so her and Nancy don’t file a missing person’s report. They probably want to debrief about the prank. Anyway, I’ll stop bugging you and let you have your lunch in peace.” He gestures at Eddie’s can of nuts, assuming that is his lunch before hunch-standing and sliding the door open.

“For the record,” Eddie says popping another handful of nuts into his mouth, “you aren’t bugging me.”

Steve chuffs, his hand on the van handle ready to slide it shut. “Sure.”

Chapter Text

Eddie and his friends are supposed to show up in thirty minutes. Steve has already straightened the living room and family room—in case they have some down time—cleaned the kitchen because surely they will have a snack or something, and moved things around in the basement so they waste no time getting to practice. He even cleaned up his bedroom—not that the band will be coming up here, there’s no reason for that but his nerves were so bad that he had to keep moving. 

But now all that is done, there is nothing else to clean or prepare—he supposed he could start on the pool but that is excessive—so he sits down in the living room and pulls out his phone. Research on Insta will help his mind stay on the task, keep his body feeling busy, but also make the time fly by. 

When Eddie agreed to let Steve help the band with their entry, Steve turned to Insta to follow other up-and-coming bands to see what their strategies are. To help himself with videography, he followed a few people that talk about the process as well as show the result, but use more common tools and not fancy software. It’s given him a few ideas that he’s saved to use later.

His feed used to be filled with only his friend’s content, some of Nancy, a little more of Robin, and a ton of Tommy, and other random students from Hawkins he’s followed. Filling his feed with things to inspire his work with Eddie shows him how twisted his friendship was with Tommy. And yet he is still entangled with him over this bet.

It’s at that moment that Steve scrolls down to see a post from Tommy: ten images of his Friday night, which he spent partying with Steve’s other least favorite people, Jason and Billy. 

Tommy has his moments of bullying, but Jason and Billy are a whole other level. It’s because they find ways to keep the blame on another person entirely and never get in trouble for it, that’s what makes them so much worse. Jason acts holier than everyone else with his All-American boy looks. Billy uses his sex appeal mostly and he doesn’t care the gender of the recipient so long as he gets out of trouble. However, he is violently straight meaning that he isn’t afraid of toeing the line of hate crimes when it comes to pushing others around.

The fifth image has Jason and Billy holding a clearly struggling kid about to toss them into a body of water. True to his word, Tommy isn’t participating in the hazing, but Steve can see his profile just off frame laughing, clearly enjoying it regardless of the bet.

Steve feels the bile rise in his throat as he clicks on Tommy’s profile, about to send him a message, before his brain catches up to him. Trying to reason with him has never worked before and it won’t work now. Maybe the only way to get through to him is through besting him, through winning the bet and forcing him to behave through threats. If that’s what it takes to make him stop, Steve will throw everything he has at helping Corroded Coffin become the biggest band Hawkins High has ever seen.

“Are we really going this?” Jeff asks as Eddie turns the van onto the road outside of town. 

This isn’t the first time Jeff or Gareth have asked this question since Eddie presented Steve’s offers to them. The offer to help film their Battle of the Bands entry was an easy one for them to agree to. All three of them knew very little about filming or editing so letting Steve take that over and use his popularity to their advantage was a no brainer. 

He waited to present Steve’s second offer until after they discussed the first proposal because he knew it would bring a different reaction from them. Allowing Steve into their world in controlled and regulated ways is one thing, but going to his world an entirely different one.

Eventually though, Eddie was able to convince them by bringing up his plan and reason for doing this and how being in Steve’s house, getting closer to him, would help him get that sweet revenge.

And so, they were really doing this. They really had packed up all their equipment (days after secreting it into the band room for their prank) and placed it in the back of Eddie’s van. They really had texted Steve (or Eddie did) to set up a time and date for their first practice. They really are speeding up on the route out of town to get to Steve’s house on time.

“Yes, Jeff. We really are.” Eddie doesn’t add any frustration to his tone, just states it as fact. “There is power in numbers,” he reminds them before Gareth can pop off about Eddie’s previous experiences with Steve.

Gareth nods, and to Eddie’s surprise, adds, “And if it goes badly, we can call it a lesson and never go back.”

Eddie glances into the rearview mirror and catches Gareth’s eye. He raises an eyebrow and Gareth shrugs their lips.

Jeff turns around in the front seat to face Gareth. “Don’t tell me your feelings about Steve are changing too.”

“Too?” Eddie asks.

Gareth leans back and holds their hands up as though the cops are pointing guns at them. “Hey man, change is the only constant in the world. I’m not saying I’m Team Steve here, just that I’m not closed off to him.”

“No,” Jeff declares, turning to face the front again. “He might’ve changed since freshman year, but that doesn’t mean we keep him in our life after this.”

“Who says we’re keeping him around?” Eddie asks, wanting to get back to Jeff’s use of too. Neither of them answers and when Eddie looks at them, they are conveniently looking anywhere but at him.

“You don’t think I’ve forgotten what he did, do you? That I’ve gone soft?” Eddie turns off the route out of town onto a narrow two lane road that disappears around a bend and is surrounded by tall trees full of fresh green leaves.

Gareth rubs their neck, still looking away from Eddie. “You did argue pretty hard yesterday for taking him up on his offers.”

“Yeah, because it benefits us and so we can win the Battle of the Bands,” he retorts, gripping the wheel like it was all there was between him and a fall to the death.

“And you did have lunch with him the other day,” Jeff says. Under his breath he adds, “And we never heard the end of it.”

Eddie cuts his eyes to Jeff and swerves the car. They scream until he rights the vehicle. Gareth, gasping for breath, tells Eddie. “You’re more interested in fighting off the accusation.” They catch their breath and scoot behind Eddie’s seat grabbing onto the door before saying. “It’s almost like something else is going on and you are trying to draw attention away from it.”

Jeff laughs and nods in agreement, which only fuels Eddie’s frustration. “The only thing going on is me trying to get dirt on the guy so I can embarrass him later. That means keeping him around and gaining his trust. Nothing is going on beyond that.”

Up ahead the trees part for a driveway wider than the road. Eddie slows to read the house number on the mailbox, then turns onto the road. At the end of the driveway is the Harrington house, a two story home with attached garage. The exterior is grand, with a covered porch at the entry way and windows with flower boxes under them. It is so contrary to the trailer Eddie lives in that he almost turns the van back around. Steve is so far out of his comfort zone based on this house alone, Eddie is afraid that he would sully the carpet or upholstery or something.

But both Jeff and Gareth let out a gasp followed by, “Woah.” It snaps Eddie back to the moment and why he is here: to get to know Steve. For the prank of course and only for that reason.

Lugging the gear into the house and set up takes a little less time with Steve’s help. Thankfully, he skips a tour of the house and settles down to let them practice. What Eddie could see of the house though was jaw-dropping. His whole trailer could almost fit in the living room.

But instead of dwelling on that, Eddie focuses on running practice. The first few songs are just warm up, slower and simpler chords to get their fingers ready, and Jeff and Eddie’s voices ready. It’s not until they are about to run through the first song of their normal set that Eddie looks up and sees Steve with a camera in his hand.

As Gareth counts them in and they play through the first instrumental section, Eddie laughs to himself seeing Steve like that. Normally Steve is in the spotlight, with everyone else’s eyes on him, waiting for the next thing he’ll do or say to make them go wild. Every movement is crafted, his outfit planned to attract the eye, his smile as big as the moon—it feels forced. It’s what always got under his skin, that Steve didn’t feel real; he felt like a government plant in their school or something.

But Steve behind the camera is different. More than a few times, he catches a goofy look on Steve’s face, the kind of thing he’d never allow at school. Steve will stand awkwardly as he fiddles with something on the back of the camera or get into a weird position to catch a different angle. At school, Eddie only ever sees him leaning just so to show off how nonchalant he is. 

It almost feels like getting a peek behind the curtain except that this isn’t an embarrassing thing about Steve. At least not something Eddie could use. If anything, it makes Steve more relatable, more endearing. Eddie finds himself smiling anytime he sees Steve doing something normal, human, even when Steve catches him looking.

An hour into their practice and Eddie is making a game of it. He’ll do a silly move purely for the camera, something he’d do on stage maybe once a night, only to turn around with a his cheeks puffed out and his eyes crossed. “Looking good, Munson,” Steve says. It makes being filmed, being seen, by Steve a little easier.

And if Jeff and Gareth share a surprised and disgusted look each time, neither Steve nor Eddie sees it.

Two hours into practice and Steve suggests they take a break. “I ordered pizza and it should be here soon.”

“Woo!” Gareth shouts as they stand from their drum set. Jeff shots them a angry look, but they let it roll off their back and set their sticks down.

“There’s soda in the fridge and chips on the counter. Help yourself!” Steve calls after them. Jeff follows, grumbling something about keeping them from destroying the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Steve alone.

“Thanks again for letting us use your space.” Eddie lifts his guitar over his head and sets it on a stand. “It’s a lot easier to practice without the neighborhood kids interrupting us as they bike by.”

“I’m sure the lack of protestors against your demon worship also helps you focus on your chords more.”

“Har, har,” Eddie says, before pulling his hair up, in the blink of an eye, into a floppy bun at the back of his head. “It still makes me sweat like crazy. Please tell me you have some sort of orange soda.”

Steve heads for the stairs and shrugs. “Probably. I could always door dash some if you really want it.”

“Jeez Steve, no! I’m not that bad of a guest.”

The pizza comes and between the four of them, they devour three pies. Steve wasn’t sure what everyone liked so he went with a few classics: meat lovers, supreme, and Hawaiian. He learned that Jeff loves mushrooms and Gareth hates most vegetables on pizza. Eddie ate most of the Hawaiian, but ended up peeling a lot of the Canadian bacon off. “On principle,” he said. “Just call it ham, no one cares that it’s Canadian.”

Mom had stocked the fridge with a variety of soda, not that she was around to know what everyone liked. They stopped physically doing the grocery shopping a long time ago and now just put orders in that someone would drop off and Steve would put away. Once Steve was old enough to have friends over, Mom just got a little of everything to help Steve look like the cool kid. He guesses it worked because Eddie was over the moon to see a six pack of Fanta in the fridge.

Once all the pizza is gone, Jeff and Gareth head back downstairs. As they leave the kitchen, Steve can hear Gareth say, “I’m gonna need to lay down for twenty years.”

Jeff’s booming voice follows. “Like Rip Van Winkle?”

“Who?”

Steve stacks the empty pizza boxes near the door to the garage so he can take them out to the trash later. Then he sticks his fingers in the empty pop cans and moves them next to the boxes. 

“You guys recycle?” Eddie asks after taking a sip from his Fanta.

“Course.”

“Course,” Eddie scoffs into the pop mouth. He gulps it down and looks around at the enormity of the house. “Nothing about this house screams ‘cares about the environment,’ Steve.”

Steve shrugs his mouth. “My parents didn’t like it at first, but I wore them down. Besides, I’m home more often than they are.”

Eddie turns his gaze to the counter where he is slowly spinning his pop can to avoid looking at Steve as he asks a question. “Where are your parents, by the way?”

He had wondered if Eddie was ever going to ask, and he is grateful he waited until Jeff and Gareth had wandered off. This conversation will be easier if he is sitting so he slides onto a bar stool next to Eddie. Gareth had sat there during lunch so it is close to Eddie, a fact Steve realizes when his hip bumps against Eddie’s.

“My parents both work in the corporate world, not the same company. My mom is in sales and her company is multinational so not only is she gone for the selling of stuff, but sometimes her meetings with her boss take place in London or Sydney.”

“Woah.” Eddie’s eyes are still on the can, but his body relaxes a small bit next to Steve so that now their elbows are also touching. “Does she ever take you?”

Steve shakes his head. “When I was young it would’ve been too much work, and now high school is too important to miss.”

Eddie gives an empty chuckle as though he acknowledges how empty even Steve views that sentiment. “And your dad?”

After Eddie shared the story about his dad and their lack of relationship, Steve has wanted to reciprocate. But, he couldn’t figure out how to do it so that it meant something. 

Now, he sighs a heavy sigh. There is too much to say, so he says the only thing he can. “He works in marketing for some sports apparel company. They also travel a lot to present to their clients, prep campaigns, etc.”

Eddie looks up and half turns to Steve over his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t the clients come to him?”

“I’ve long suspected that my dad chooses to go to them. Gets him away from here.” It is only now that Steve looks at Eddie. He leans back on his stool, separating their elbows but not their hips. Eddie twists his upper body to continue holding Steve’s gaze. He doesn’t say anything, not with words, but the micro-movements of his eyes going narrow before dipping at the sides says so much.

Eddie sits back, turning from Steve, but pressing the whole of his left side against Steve’s right. It is warm; Steve is aware of each centimeter of his bare skin that is touching Eddie’s bare skin. The intense focus he has on this is…odd. It’s like looking at an image that you’ve seen before but not recognizing where you saw it the first time. 

“What is it with dads sucking?” Eddie finally says.

Steve chuffs. “Not sure about you, but my mom isn’t much better.”

Eddie shrugs his left shoulder up, brushing his skin against Steve’s and sending tingly vibrations through the entirety of his body. And then again when the arm came back down. “Mine isn’t any better than my dad.”

“What is it with moms and dads sucking?” Steve says echoing Eddie’s question.

“My Uncle Wayne is pretty great.”

“Yeah?” Steve half turns his head to Eddie, interested in what he has to say.

Eddie nods. “He took me in when my parents failed to parent before the state could investigate things. He got me my guitar, the one I was playing on today. Won’t even let me thank him for the guitar or taking me in. Says that is the bare minimum a caregiver should do.”

“I’ve got a Robin,” Steve says, feeling the need to not seem so sad and lonely. “She’s not a mom, but sometimes she’ll tell me things a parent should’ve in her own, blunt way.”

A laugh pops from Eddie, quiet and unexpected. But it sounds so goofy that Steve chuckles in his chest, restraining it by closing his lips. Only, that sets Eddie off again; his shoulders shake and more sounds bubble from his mouth. Finally, the laugh Steve held back bursts from his mouth and becomes a belly laugh. It only takes Eddie a moment before he crumbles into hysterics as well. 

Their laughter sends them rocking back and forth and side to side, bumping into each other and slapping knees and grabbing at arms so they don’t fall from the chairs. 

Before long, Jeff comes back up the stairs to check on them. He finds them leaning on each other, their laughter coming slower in a satisfied by a big meal sort of way. Neither of them give him any mind so he claps his hands to get their attention.

Eddie snaps to, jumping up from the stool and facing his band mate. Steve, who was leaning on Eddie for support, falls onto the bar stool; he stands behind Eddie, slightly abashed by Jeff’s glare. “We should get back to practicing. We still have an hour left to go.” He turns with an authority that demands Eddie follow, and Eddie does.

Later that night, after the band finished practicing and decided to leave their gear at Steve’s place; after they said their goodbyes and Eddie remembered thing after thing to tell Steve; after the quiet of the house reformed and spread through the house like a shadow, Steve heard his phone vibrate on the desk from his position on the bed.

Eddie: Sorry we took up so much of your Saturday

Steve: I offered for you guys to practice here

A moment later, and entirely unlike him, Eddie texts back.

Eddie: Yeah but you weren’t able to do other things because you were filming us

Steve: I offered to do that too

Steve: What else should I’ve been doing?

Eddie: cool kid crap

Steve: ????

Steve: What is that?

Eddie: How would I know? I’m not a cool kid!

Eddie: 😎

Steve: heheh

Steve puts his phone down and looks at his walls. There are posters of things he’s been interested in at some point in the past. A car. Some model. A movie he saw with Tommy once. But talking with Eddie is putting all of that under interrogation and Steve can’t for the life of him find an alibi for any of it.

Steve: You are though

Steve: cool

Steve: and you aren’t missing out on anything

Eddie: As I suspected

Eddie: You think I’m cool? 🤓

Eddie: you don’t have to answer that

Eddie: in fact don’t

Steve smiles at his phone. Scrolling back up his thread with Eddie, finding himself laughing again at the jokes Eddie made, he feels a sense of deja vu. Or not quiet that. The moment doesn’t feel familiar but the frame of it does. Still, he can’t put his finger on why that is. Instead of dwelling on it, he plugs his phone in and sends off one more text.

Steve: good night, Eddie

Chapter Text

On a normal week, Steve takes Sunday nights for himself. Monday through Friday, he spends a lot of his time playing it up for his audience. That gets more intense on Friday and Saturday nights when he goes to parties—not every weekend, but often enough. So the only day he normally has entirely to himself, to go without the accoutrements of his popular facade, is Sunday. Only Robin can break the barrier of his Sunday cocoon. 

But now he sits in his car—the keys in the ignition, but the engine off—outside the rec center gathering himself before heading in.

When he woke up this morning, he had to search for his phone. It seemed that sometime in the night, he’d flung it off the bed onto the floor. There was only one notification—not uncommon as he mutes most notifications unless they come from a select few people.

Eddie: On Sundays we play games at the rec center. This week it’s Apples to Apples. I’d love for you to come if you can make time.

Steve hadn’t responded, well into the warmth of his Sunday cocoon, but he decided to go. For the sake of the bet. And maybe, just the tiniest little piece of him, wanted to laugh with Eddie again.

It has been awhile since Steve has played a game. Tommy would never do it, and while Robin and Nancy would, they usually have too many other obligations to take care of. His parents are never around long enough to stoop to play a game. He’s sure he’s played games before, but for the life of him, Steve can’t find a clear memory of it.

The parking lot is empty except for Eddie’s van, which Steve parked next to. Though at the front door is a gaggle of bikes haplessly thrown to the ground in a pile. At the door, Steve mentally flips the switch to turn his charm on.

Inside the center, the lights are on but it seems deserted. There are no screaming children in the multi-purpose room and no front desk staff to greet him. He heads back toward the stairs up to the teen room. Because of the sound dampening, he can’t hear their noise until he opens the door. They aren’t nearly as loud as normal, though Dustin and Lucas are arguing about how many cards one should hold in their hands. All of the kids are in a circle around the table so it isn’t until he makes it into the room that he sees Eddie.

He looks up at the kids with a face that screams annoyance, but something in the lack of tension around his eyes says it’s nothing but fondness. It brings a smile to Steve’s face, how different Eddie has turned out to be from his own assumptions about him.

Lucas notices him first. “Hey, Steve!”

Dustin responds. “Don’t try to distract me from my accurate argument by saying Steve is behind me. I know he’s not behind me.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Dufus,” he tugs at Dustin’s arm to turn him around. “He isn’t lying.”

Dustin’s face opens wide. “Steve!” he cries. Then he holds out a hand for their handshake. It was a little thing for Steve to make up a silly handshake with Dustin. He had gotten to school early and Dustin was there. They go through the motions, skin slapping skin, until they take our their imaginary lightsabers and battle, before Dustin runs it through Steve’s stomach. In response, Steve gasps and gestures with his hands all his organs slipping out from the wound in his torso. El and Will both look a little horrified, while Lucas and Max look offended they don’t have special handshakes. Mike, like always, is uneffected by Steve’s charm. 

And Eddie. Eddie looks gleefully shocked. Steve walks around the table and slides in next to him. Then, to really throw everyone off, he says, “I’m with Lucas. Everyone gets seven cards. Gives you more options.”

That gets the kids going, their voices one-upping each other in volume. Eddie leans into Steve’s shoulder. “What was that?”

“What?”

“Your handshake with Dustin.” He says it with a scoff like it should be obvious. 

“Oh,” Steve gives him a sly grin. “Just a little something between bros.”

Eddie shakes his head and moves away from Steve, but the exasperation is all for show. Then he jumps up onto the chair, crouches like a goblin, and slams his palms on the table. “As your game master, I get the final say, and I side with Steve. Seven cards per hand.”

Lucas shouts yes and pumps his fists in the air, while Dustin looks betrayed.

“You heard the man,” Steve adds. 

The all grab a seat around the circular table as Eddie deals out seven cards to everyone. “The rules of the game are simple. The person whose turn it is, pulls a card from this pile.” He points to the pile of green cards. “They read it out loud and flip the timer.”

It’s been a minute since Steve has played this game, but he doesn’t remember a timer. “Timer?” he asks for clarification.

Max jumps in. “Dustin here used to take too long each turn, regardless of the game. So we had to implement a timer to stop each round taking forever.” She smiles at Steve and then turns to Dustin and sticks her tongue out. Dustin returns that in kind.

“As I was saying,” Eddie says. “Everyone else will look at their cards and select one to match the green card. Once all cards are in or the timer goes off, the green card reader will read each red card out loud to select the winner. How they select the winner is up to them and the rest of us don’t get to argue.” He points at Mike with emphasis. “Got it?”

Mike makes an annoyed face, sighing and rolling his eyes into his fringe. Eddie ignores it. “Since Steve is new, he gets to start us off.”

No one argues with this and Steve reaches out and grabs a green card. “Cranky.” He flips the timer and everyone turns to their cards to find their selection.

After no more than fifteen seconds, everyone slides him a card. He picks them up and shuffles them, really drawing it out. “First up, we have Sunday drivers.” He smirks, but it’s too accurate to truly be funny.

Following that one he reads ‘family reunions’, ‘a high school bathroom’, ‘bad haircut’, ‘babies’, and ‘local police’ (which gets a genuine laugh out of him). 

He places the local police card to the side, thinking that it was in the running to be the winner, when he sees the word on the last card. A laugh bursts from his mouth causing his lips to vibrate. Soon all the kids are joining in, unsure why he is laughing but knowing it’s infectious anyway. He can’t pull himself together to read the card.

Eddie sits next to him, watching Steve double over in laughter with a smug look on his face. Will, across from him, notices and says, “Why do you look so smug?”

“No reason.”

Steve’s giggles finally subside enough to pick the card back up and read it. “Batman.” He flips it to the group. “This one wins.” 

Eddie reaches over and plucks the card from between Steve’s fingers. “Thank you.”

The game goes much the same, with some cards that cause everyone to laugh and some being duds. Eddie teases the kids like an older brother, one that is way older than the younger brother thus not prone to fighting. Though Dustin does end up in a head lock at one point.

Steve finds himself watching Eddie more than paying attention to the game. He hasn’t won a single green card, but he’s having more fun than he’s had in a long time on a Sunday night. It’s like watching him play the guitar. Eddie goes somewhere else when he plays, just him and the music. His fingers glide over the strings, his face is at peace. It’s the competence that he is drawn to, Steve thinks. Just like here with the kids, Eddie is so good at it.

Steve’s known for a long time that he wants kids when he is older but he doesn’t hang around them often. Watching Eddie interact with the freshman shows him how stupid that is. Steve likes kids, why wait to understand them. Maybe that’s his parents problem, they had him as a thing to check off the list, not as something they wanted to spend time with. Eddie wants to spend time with these kids: he wonders absently if he is getting paid to hold this game night or if they are just using the space.

“Unnatural,” Eddie reads after picking up a green card.

Steve looks at his cards, hoping there is something there. He wants to make Eddie laugh, he wants to win at least one green card. There is one card that he thinks will do the trick. He slides it over, just as the timer ends. 

The thing about a game like this is you need to know the other people playing, know their humor. Steve was at a disadvantage from the start. He is taking a risk by playing the card he does, unsure where the other kids sit on the subject. He isn’t even sure where Eddie sits but there is no reward without risk. 

Eddie reads two cards that don’t make him laugh before he gets to Steve’s. He looks at Eddie’s face, wanting some sort of reaction. Eddie’s lips open and slide into a smirk, revealing his canine before his tongue peaks out and rubs against it.

A low chuckle emits from Eddie before he reads the card, “Going to church is unnatural.” He ticks with his tongue before looking everyone in the eyes. “One of you is a very naughty heretic.”

The kids all shake their heads and look at each other to see who played the card. Steve feels his face heat up and then Eddie looks at him, that wicked grin on his face. “I like it.” Steve swears he stares at him a second longer than the others. It leaves his belly warm and his heart racing.

“This is the winner,” Eddie declares. Steve can’t reach for it as the kids burst out in arguments. “Hey, what are the rules, the green card reader gets to pick the winner and there is no arguing.”

“You didn’t even read the other cards,” El says evenly, though her eyebrows are scrunched. 

“This is the winner.” Eddie says each word firmly. “Who played it?”

Steve lifts his palm beside Eddie and whispers in a shaky voice. “I did.”

Eddie turns to him and places the card in Steve’s hand, pressing into his palm. “Good job. First win.”

Mike and Lucas both make loud noises of disagreement and frustration, but Eddie ignores them like always. The round goes on, but Eddie’s head is stuck in that moment, his heart not really in the game anymore.

For the last few days a realization has been building in him. Gareth and Jeff teasing him about Steve hasn’t helped because he forces it down more around them, but when he gets home and is alone, it comes out of hiding. 

The thing is, Steve is nothing like Eddie thought he was. It’s made him re-evaluate the memories of his freshman year and what role Steve played on that fateful day. 

It was after school and Eddie was leaving band after most other people had left school for the day. It was his last class of the day and he didn’t really need to rush into the hall with his tormentors out there. But they had waited for him. Or maybe he’d been a convenient victim.

Tommy and Steve were standing near Eddie’s locker. Not right in front of it, but close enough that he couldn’t get to it without them noticing. For years after, he wished he had just turned around and walked home instead of going to his locker. 

He went to his locker and Tommy walked over to him, Steve close behind him. “What’s the queer doing at school so late?” Tommy asked.

Eddie put his combo in, trying to ignore Tommy like Uncle Wayne and the school counselor told him to. 

“Can you hear me gay boy?” Tommy slammed his palm into the locker causing Eddie to jump and drop his textbook. Tommy chuckled. “So eager to get down on your knees.”

It’s at this moment that Eddie remembers Steve saying something, but with his blood pounding in his ears, he doesn’t know what it was. He did hear Tommy respond as he stood up. “He’s just the gay kid, it doesn’t matter.”

The rest is hazy because Eddie was shoving things in his locker and his backpack to get out of there as fast as possible. What is clear is how it ended. Eddie finally grumbled under his breath for Tommy to, “Shut the fuck up.” Something came over him and before Eddie could explain away the mistake, Tommy had grabbed his hand and held it against the locker and slammed the door seven times.

Eddie had screamed, he remembers that. He didn’t hold back the tears: he needed his hand for music, the only thing that kept him going. He doesn’t remember where Steve is, the sound of the locker slamming and his bones breaking blocks out everything else.

When Tommy was done, Eddie slid to the hallway floor, gripping his right hand with his left. Tommy stood over him glowering, and Steve pulled him away shouting, “We’ve gotta go. Come on.”

Eddie had always blamed him for that, the way he had run, the way he hadn’t stopped Tommy, the way he had just stood there and watched.

But the Steve he’s gotten to know doesn’t line up with that Steve. The Steve he’s seen this year has taken risks for him. He set up the whole prank, asking friends of his to help. He allowed the band to practice for hours at his house and he fed them without expecting anything in return. He is allowing all of these freshman to tease him and he just laughs along. He has a special handshake with Dustin.

The worst part is that Eddie likes this Steve. Not just that, he has a crush on him.

Game club ends on time as almost all of the freshman’s parents want them home on time. And even though they complain and ask for one more round, Eddie knows that the parents only tolerate him so much looking the way he does. He isn’t going to jeopardize his job.

Steve stays after all the kids have left to help him clean up. “That was fun,” he says as he pulls the discarded red cards toward him. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Eddie demurs. “I’m sure it’s nothing compared to your normal Sunday night.”

Steve laughs. “Do you think I throw ragers at my house or something? On a Sunday?”

“I don’t know things about your popular life.” Eddie frowns.

Steve pointedly avoids Eddie’s gaze as he says, “I usually spend Sunday nights alone, watching something or doing homework.” He laughs like that will make Eddie unhear the truth of his words. “Self care Sunday, it’s all the rage.”

After they place the lid on the box and Eddie slides it into place in the closet, he turns to Steve. “Would you like to get coffee with me? Or a warm beverage of your choosing, of course. I’m not gonna force you—”

“Yes,” Steve says interrupting Eddie’s nervous babbling. 

Eddie nods and holds his keys up. “Follow me?”

They drive toward downtown Hawkins to the one shop that Eddie knows will be open late. After the incident with Tommy, Uncle Wayne had successfully argued for Eddie to get out of school one period early. Since his hand was broken, he couldn’t play in band. Eddie had come to this coffee shop to wait for Wayne to pick him up. He’d argued that he could walk home just fine, but Wayne had insisted. 

During those few weeks, when Eddie couldn’t play and his brain was eating himself alive, he’d learned to write music and lyrics. He couldn’t use his right hand to write, so he typed mostly with his left and lightly tapped the keys with his thumb. The ladies behind the counter felt bad for him so they gave him free refills or his pick of the treats arguing that they would go bad otherwise. The shop holds a special place in his heart.

They park in front of the shop. There are few people there, just some college aged kids and an older couple. Steve orders a hot chocolate and Eddie a latte—coffee never does much for him so there is no harm in a late night caffeine boost. He never thought they’d get this far and the idea of sitting in this almost empty coffee shop with Steve feels like being naked on stage. “Hey, you wanna walk around,” Eddie asks Steve—who agrees—so he asks to change their order to to-go.

With their drinks in hand, Eddie holds the door for Steve and they head out into the dusk. They walk in silence for a block, sipping at their too hot drinks, unsure what to say. Eddie doesn’t want to be the first to speak because it feels like he’d be giving away his crush and the last thing Steve needs to know is that he has a crush on him. Being friendly is one thing, but you don’t go from gay bashing to be accepting that easily.

Steve breaks the silence, thankfully. “You know, you seem different when you are around the kids than when we’re at school.”

Eddie huffs. “Yeah, the freshman actually like me. Where as at school, everyone hates me because they think I’m some sort of demon worshipper.”

Steve shakes his head. “Actually, the current rumor is you’re a drug dealer.”

“A broken clock is right twice a day.” That makes Steve’s mouth drop open. “It was a joke, Steve.”

He goes quite at that. Eddie chews his lip, knowing that they are dancing dangerously close to speaking about things he doesn’t want to talk about. He decides to steer them elsewhere. “Besides, with those kids you know what you’re getting. They are real and untainted by the pressures of high school. Plus, they are natural bullshit detectors.”

“Yeah, there is something true about them. Except for Mike.”

“What?” Eddie laughs, holding his cup out from him so it doesn’t spill as he shakes. “Why?”

“He’s never gotten over me dating, Nancy, his sister. Seems to like Robin just fine, but could never stand the idea of me.” Steve takes a sip of his drink without gasping at the heat, it finally having cooled down.

“Still though, he’s honest in his hate. You know he doesn’t like you.”

“True.”

“That’s one of the nice things about this position. I can help them make their high school experience easier and better. To not give into the pressures like I did. To continue to be themselves despite the ways high school changes you.”

Steve hums, then tilts his head to look at Eddie. It’s an evaluating look that makes Eddie squirm in it’s honesty. It feels like Steve is rearranging things in his mind, taking out parts that no longer make sense in his image of Eddie. And it’s not how the kids look at him; their exuberance comes from a place of inexperience. Steve’s glance is something else all together.

He turns away. “Have you not always been yourself? It’s hard for me to imagine you being dimmed.”

Eddie reaches up and untucks his hair from behind his ear letting is cascade in front of his face, hiding the shame he feels over going back into the closet after the incident. He knows there is no reason to feel shame for that, but it’s not like he lives at the height of the AIDs crisis, people should be more understanding, even in Indiana. Munson doctrine rule 19, be who you are and scare away the people who will judge you for it isn’t something he’s been able to follow fully. “Not in all the ways I want,” he says, looking down at his feet. “It’s hard to unlearn what people think of you when they don’t give you an opportunity to try again.”

“I think things have changed a little bit. At least since your playing during the announcements.”

“Yeah, but old dogs don’t learn new tricks.” Eddie feels himself spiraling. The feelings of self-hatred and guilt consuming him as he tries to avoid thinking about his history with Steve but the man being right next to him doesn’t help.

Steve stops walking and stares. Eddie takes two more steps before turning around to face him. There is surprise and hurt on Steve’s face, but Eddie isn’t sure what to attribute them to.

“I did,” Steve says. “At least,” he looks away, “I’m trying to.”

Eddie walks back toward him, torn between his crush and his fear. In his mind, these two things are not able to be reconciled and yet they cohabitate in his head. It feels like the moment to say something, to ask Steve what happened from his perspective, to ask for an apology, to demand one.

But then Steve smiles and looks up at Eddie through his eyelashes. “So if the freshman are bullshit detectors, does that mean I passed their inspection?”

Eddie is shocked into laughing at the quick change in topic and tone. But he is grateful; asking Steve about that moment would be foolish. They keep walking, turning a corner to avoid exiting the quaint downtown area. “I wouldn’t be here if you didn’t.”

Eddie glances at Steve through the corner of his eye and sees a pleased smirk on his lips. 

They walk a block more before either of them speaks, all the while, Eddie battles the spiral that is pulling him down. One moment, he is thinking about Steve’s smirk and the next it’s his fist. Though, if he were pressed, he’d admit that he can’t remember a time when Steve hit him. Eddie saw him get in a fight or two freshman year; he specifically remembers a hallway fight with Jonathan Byers that ended badly for Steve. It might have been over Mike’s sister, Nancy, but Eddie tries not to remember school gossip. And there were stories about his fighting on the basketball court, though most people downplayed those because he had some skill.

No, if Steve was involved in Eddie’s torture, at most it was through words or lack of action.

He comes out of his thinking when Steve asks, “So you mentioned the other day that you live with your Uncle?”

Eddie sees it for what it is meant to be, an opening. “Yeah. He’s my dad’s brother so when my dad went to prison, and my mom wanted to be free of responsibility, he took me in.”

“And he’s better than your parents were?”

“Oh yeah,” Eddie beams. “Uncle Wayne is the best. He’s the one that bought me my first guitar and he’s been to my shows. He sacrifices so much for me. And he’s constantly telling me that that is the bare minimum a caregiver should do for a child. Then he does more.”

“He sounds amazing. Maybe I’ll meet him someday,” Steve says, though his voice ticks up at the end like he doesn’t want to presume.

“Not if I want to keep my place as his favorite. I imagine that you know how to play parents.” As soon as it leaves his lips, Eddie regrets saying it, thinking it is too close to something he would say to a potential date.

“How did you know?” Steve hands Eddie his cup and takes a deep breath. “Hello, Mr. Munson. It’s so nice to meet you,” he says in a cheery tone that only sounds like Steve if you squint. “Eddie has told me so much about you.”

Steve turns to him, breaking the fourth wall of this scenario. “What does he like? Hobbies?”

Eddie laughs. “He likes baseball, tried for the longest time to get me into it.”

Steve winks, then resumes his acting. The wink sends Eddie for a spin. “I hear you’re a baseball man. I’ve watched a few games in my time. Please, tell me who you think the best team is in the league right now? Spring training is about to start soon, no?”

“Stop, stop.” Eddie is laughing so hard, the words hardly make it from his lips. “You’ve sold me. You’re never meeting Wayne. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Steve smiles at him, his head tilted, as he takes back his drink. “Guess I’ll have to settle for Robin’s parents adopting me. Nancy’s mom and sister liked me, but her dad was hesitant. And you know Mike’s opinion.”

“I know Robin from band, but where did you meet her? Seems an unlikely friend for you to have.”

Steve shrugs with his lips. “I’ll give you that it seems unusual on the surface, but she’s my best friend. Truly. We’ve been through so much together.”

“Anything you want to share?”

Steve glances over at him and raises his eyebrows. “Well, there was this once time where we took down a Russian conspiracy and saved the whole town of Hawkins from destruction all because Robin learned to speak Russian in a weekend.”

Eddie’s eyebrows pinch together. Steve said that with so much nonchalance that Eddie isn’t sure what to make of it. 

Then, he breaks. “I’m just kidding. If that were true, do you think I’d be able to tell you that? The government would come swooping down from up high to stop me.” He gestures at the buildings around them like he half expects them to show themselves. “We worked together at a shitty job, bonded us for life.”

“That sounds more realistic,” Eddie says with a laugh. “Me and Suzette are the same way.” When Steve looks at him, confused, Eddie adds. “The woman you met that first day, at the front desk.”

Steve hums with understanding. They make their way into a little park on the outskirts of the downtown area. Neither one is leading, they are following the path set ahead of them. Having dumped their empty cups, their excuse for meandering is gone, but they can’t turn back to their cars just yet.

“It’s strange that the people you meet at a random job can be so life changing. Robin shows me that all of my worst thoughts about myself might not be true.” Steve shakes his head. “I hope I do half as much for her.”

Steve’s words echo through Eddie’s head: worst thoughts about himself. He wants to know more, not because he hopes that Steve hates himself, that his part in Eddie’s humiliation has eaten away at him over the years. But because it’s not something he ever considered Steve would be dealing with, but he isn’t sure how to ask.

The path leads them over a little bridge over water. They stop and Steve leans against the railing. Moonlight shines through the branches of the trees making it bright. Eddie is standing behind Steve, marveling at the way the luminescent light hits his face, gleams in his hair. And he knows he is in deep, deep shit. He can deal with that tomorrow, tonight he can enjoy himself.

Steve is chewing on his lip and it makes Eddie’s knees weak. He takes his phone out of his jeans, hoping to take a picture. Nothing creepy, but if Steve could see himself like Eddie sees him now—but his fat thumb slips and turns it to video just as Steve starts talking again.

“You said you haven’t always been yourself during high school. I’m afraid that I have been. That the me I’ve been in the halls of Hawkins High is the true me. How sad is that?”

“Having fears isn’t sad,” Eddie says, his hand still up and filming, though he isn’t aware of that as he listens intently to Steve.

“And having regrets? I know that when we are adults, people won’t care about our high school personas, but what if all I ever am is an asshole jock?”

Steve turns around then and sees Eddie holding the camera up. Eddie panics, seeing it from Steve’s perspective, filming him as he says something vulnerable is an asshole move. He stops filming and puts his arm down. “I just…I wasn’t trying to…”

Steve’s eyes are wide and then he cracks, laughing. “Got tired of being the person in front of the camera?” he asks Eddie, jostling his shoulder playfully.

Eddie is so relieved. “Yeah, I guess.” He can’t give him the actual reason for the mishap, that’s just as bad, if not worse. “I can delete it,” he offers.

“I’m not worried about it,” Steve says, smiling at him with trust. “We should probably make our way back to the cars though. It’s getting late.”

Eddie follows him as they head out of the park. The walk back is much faster since they take a more direct route. They discuss the freshman kids, funny moments from earlier in the night, nothing so deep as what had happened on the bridge. 

As they turn a corner and see their cars up ahead, Eddie realizes that this video could be collateral that he could use against Steve. For the first time, it doesn’t sit right with him. Steve showed him a different side of himself and Munson Doctrine rule 11 is to believe someone when they show you who they are. He stops Steve a block away from the coffee shop, needing to tell him something. Or needing to say something that Steve probably won’t understand, not for what it truly is.

His hand rests on Steve’s shoulder and Eddie realizes they are the same height, or close to. Steve’s hair might give him a few inches. “You can’t worry so much about what our classmates think. They are also in high school and just as stupid as we are.”

Steve tries to say something, but Eddie shakes his head. “But even if they want to believe that you’ll always be a popular jock that maybe was an asshole, know this.”  He squeezes Steve’s shoulder, wanting his words to sink in, wanting Steve to understand. “I know you aren’t just popular, you aren’t just a jock, and you aren’t an asshole. Mistakes don’t make the person, Munson Doctrine rule 13.”

Steve gives Eddie a half smile that seems to shine brighter than the moon. It’s a smile that says ‘this is all I can give you’, it says ‘I can’t believe you right now’, it says ‘but maybe someday I will’. “Munson Doctrine?” Steve asks, though it sounds like he’s saying ‘are you serious?’

“Yeah, it’s my philosophy about life,” Eddie responds, but what he wants to say, what he wants to push through Steve’s skin to his heart, is ‘I forgive you’. “Hasn’t ever led me astray.”

They laugh and turn back to walk across the street. The moment passes, though Steve tries to hold on to it. “If you ever publish that, let me know. I’ll be the first one to buy a copy.”

“I will.” Eddie pulls his keys out of his pocket and walks between the cars heading for his car door.

Steve makes it to his and opens it, before turning back to Eddie. “I think I’m almost done with the video for your submission, but I have an idea for one more thing.’

“What’s that?”

Steve frowns. “I don’t want to tell you just yet. How about you, Jeff, and Gareth and the kids come by my house after school one day. Tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, wondering what Steve has in mind. A small part of him worries that this is a trap—he can’t shake the instinct that kept him safe for so long—but most of him knows that he has nothing to worry about. Steve isn’t an asshole jock: he was a freshman, he made a mistake. “We’ll be there.”

Steve shoots him one more smile with teeth that catches the moonlight. “Great.”

Eddie climbs into his van and stares at his dashboard. Steve pulls away before he is able to move. But when he does, he opens his group chat with the band and sends a message.

 Eddie: I am in deep shit

Chapter Text

On the way home last night, Steve texted Robin and Nancy to help him with his plan. His talk with Eddie last night made him think about the ways they all built up these personas in high school as a way to protect themself. It’s why Eddie thinks no one likes him, but what if Steve could show everyone that Eddie, and the others, do this as protection. 

Just like Tommy with his anger. 

And Ashley the cheerleader with her make-up. 

And Noah the math-lete with his intelligence. 

Steve asked Robin and Nancy to pull things from their closets that they could use to ‘re-style’ Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff.

Robin: why do we need to change them?

Robin had texted. Nancy liked the comment, but that wasn’t Steve’s goal.

Steve: I don’t want to change them

Steve: I actually want to film them trying on different styles that are kinda them

Steve: like a commentary on cliques and fashion in high school

Nancy: I don’t get it

Steve: I’ll explain later

Steve: Are you guys free tomorrow after school?

Robin: yep 🤪

Steve: come over to my house with any interesting accessories you’ve got 

Steve: let’s play dress up with CC to get them on the botb stage

At lunch on Monday, he explains his plan. Once they understand his vision, both Nancy and Robin are in. The girls agree to take Mike, El, and Will (Robin makes a comment about helping future queers recognize their queerness, though Steve ignores it) and Steve will take Lucas, Dustin, and Max so they can help him set up. 

He told Eddie last night, once he got home and thought through his whole plan, to bring outfits he’d wear for shows. And that Gareth and Jeff should do the same.

The rest of the day Steve spends swinging between nerves of how Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth will react to his plan and excitement for his idea. His desire to help them create the best submission almost overshadows the reason this all started in the first place. Almost.

Last night as he and Eddie walked around and talked, Steve couldn’t help but think of the bet. Tommy was nowhere to be seen, but if he was, Steve was already devising comebacks to barbs he’d throw Steve’s way. Like how did game night with a bunch of freshman matter? Like what did coffee dates have to do with making Eddie more popular? He’d probably throw something in about Steve having a man crush on Eddie too.

This imaginary insult, something from his own mind, hurts even into Monday. Or maybe it doesn’t hurt exactly so much as linger. Like a wound that Steve keeps pressing at, there is something awful and enjoyable about it. But once the final bell rings for the day, Steve is no closer to understanding.

With Max, Lucas, and Dustin in the car, Steve heads for his house. 

“So what’s this plan you need help with?” Dustin asks as he drums the dashboard.

“Hands off the car,” Steve chastises. “You’re fingers are probably sticky.”

Dustin looks at his hands, pressing each finger to thumb to check if they are in fact sticky. He shrugs.

“So, you know that CC is going to submit a video for Battle of the Bands?” The kids all nod like ‘no duh’. “Well, I’m helping them make the video. We’ve got film from the prank, and some from a practice they had here the other day.”

“You and Eddie hung out without me?” Dustin exclaims.

Steve sighs and tilts his head to Dustin. “Anyway. I think what we need is some footage of them being more casual, not playing instruments. So my idea is to do a fashion montage, of the guys trying on different outfits.”

“How does that fit with everything else?” Max asks. She crosses her arms and puts her feet up on the center console.

Steve knocks them off with his elbow before answering her question. “It’s about conformity and choosing to flip off the idea. I’m hoping the footage we take today will have some of them trying on more conventional clothes and then some super goofy combos and things that are more their style.”

“Cool,” Lucas says, nodding his head. Max smacks him. “I mean, I still don’t get it.”

“It’ll make more sense when I edit it together. If I’ve learned one thing using video social media platforms, you don’t have to say all the things, but with editing, your audience will make those leaps for you.”

“Gotcha,” Dustin says, beaming a toothy smile at Steve. In the rearview mirror, Lucas nods and Max rolls her eyes but it seems to be more about her own teenage angst than Steve’s ideas. 

Soon enough, they pull up to his house and all of the kids go silent and wide eyed. “You live here?” Max hisses.

“Yeah,” he says pulling under the carport and turning off the car. “Hey, I need your help with snacks and stuff, but you can eat while we set it up.”

The kids pour out of the car and follow Steve. Inside, he gets them pops and directs them where to grab various snacks from. They have a running commentary on what they find in each drawer and pantry and cupboard of the kitchen, but it is nothing Steve can’t handle. They finish up in five minutes.

“Now what?” Max asks, having loosened up a bit as Steve plied her with pop and chips.

“We’ve gotta pull some clothes from my closet for the conformity bits.”

“You’ve gotta put Eddie in your letterman jacket,” Lucas says. 

Steve snaps and points at him. “Good idea. This is why I brought you kids along. Let’s go upstairs and dig.”

After fifteen minutes of the kids tearing his closet and drawers to shreds, Nancy and Robin shout up from the front door. Steve goes down to meet them and sees that they only have Will. He sends Will to the kitchen for snacks. “Where’s the other two?”

Robin shrugs while Nancy says, “They had something they couldn’t miss.”

Will comes out with a pop and a handful of M&Ms. Steve tells the girls to put their stuff downstairs and brings Will up to help the other three.

Shortly after that, Robin calls up to him again, saying that Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth are here. Steve runs down the stairs, almost tripping on the second to last step, before cross the ‘fancy’ living room to welcome them. “The kids are upstairs helping rummage through my closet, but you guys can put your stuff downstairs.”

“Your stuff?” Jeff asks, looking down at himself. 

Steve realizes that none of his stuff will fit Jeff’s bigger frame. He makes a note to check his dad’s closet for casual things.

“Are you gonna tell us what this about?” Gareth asks.

“Nope, not yet. Let’s get all the ingredients before I give you the recipe instructions.”

As they descend the stairs, Steve can hear Gareth complaining. “Cooking puns, he’s got cooking puns.”

“Could be baking,” Eddie adds.

“That’s not better,” Gareth retorts.

Before long, the kids have decided on items from Steve’s closet and brought them downstairs. Steve goes through his dad’s old clothes and found some suitable things for Jeff. Now, they all sit on the couches that Steve had moved to allow for the CC practice gear to be set up, waiting for Steve to explain.

He goes through the explanation he provided the freshman on their drive here, adding in a little more about his thinking and his conversation with Eddie. He references a song of theirs that they played at the Saturday practice that has themes of not conforming and how the prank was a sort of middle finger to the structure of school. By the looks on everyone’s faces, he realizes he is rambling.

“So yeah,” he finishes, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I get it now,” Nancy says, her eyes alight. “I think that’s a great idea, Steve. This will totally work.” Robin slips her hand into Nancy’s and smiles at Nancy like she had the idea herself.

Eddie has a frown on his face, his body slumped low on the couch and his arms across his chest. “Basically you brought us here to play dress up?”

“Not in so many words,” Steve mumbles.

Gareth slaps Eddie’s knee. “Think of getting to the Battle of the Bands stage and blowing our classmates minds. Do it for that moment!”

“Let’s get this over with,” Jeff adds standing up and heading to where they’ve laid out the options on a corner of the couch. 

Max goes over and starts handing out the first outfit choices and Steve is so glad Eddie has competent freshman friends. Robin and Nancy join her to add their two cents which Steve is surprised to see works. For his part, Steve drops back and takes out his camera. He wants to capture as much footage as he can. It’s better to have too much that can just be deleted than not capturing the right moment.

Jeff and Gareth grab their things and head to the laundry room to change. Eddie is more hesitant and hangs back by Steve. 

“I know this isn’t exactly your idea of a good time,” Steve starts.

Eddie scoffs and crosses his arm over his chest.

“But,” Steve continues, rolling his eyes, “it will be good for you.” Eddie glares at him, and he amends, “It will be good for the submission video.”

Eddie slumps against the wall and pouts. Part of Steve hesitates, doesn’t want to get involved and try to change Eddie’s mind. He spent years doing that with Tommy, fighting Tommy’s worst impulses and trying to make him be better. And look where that got him. 

Except, there’s something different about Eddie. Tommy pushed and poked at Steve, wanting to move the boundaries, wanting to drag Steve with him. But Eddie’s feels less toxic, more teasing, like they are in on a joke together. 

He takes a breath and leans into Eddie. “I won’t make you look dumb. I won’t embarrass you.” He pauses taking in Eddie’s body language to see if his words have had their intended impact. “I want the school to see just how cool you really are.”

Eddie’s crossed arms loosen, but he doesn’t fully relent. Steve continues, “And you can veto anything you don’t want people to see, of course.”

This gets him. He laughs and pushes Steve’s shoulder, before walking over to the girls and grabbing his outfit. 

Jeff and Gareth exit as Eddie makes it to the door. Gareth is wearing a polo shirt of Steve’s and Jeff has on one of his dad’s sweatshirts, the name of some golf brand emblazoned across the chest. Max and Robin ooh when they see them. “We’ve gotta do something with Gareth’s hair,” Robin says as Max holds her chin to consider them. 

Steve films as the girls try pushing Gareth’s hair back with a headband and a hat, before settling on sunglasses. Nancy gives Jeff a hat to wear and he selects another pair of sunglasses and puts them on. “It’s cool to wear sunglasses inside,” he says with a huge grin. That sets Max off, Robin and Nancy too.

Eddie exits the laundry room wearing a yellow sweater of Steve’s and his pair of blue jeans. He took off his Docs and holds them in his hand. When Robin points to them, confused, he explains, “These aren’t exactly popular jock coded.”

Nancy hands him a pair of Steve’s New Balances and he puts them on.

“So now what,” Gareth asks.

“You guys could play your instruments like you think Steve would play them,” Dustin shouts.

Steve gives him a look, but then his brain processes the idea. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. But not like I’d play them since I don’t know how to play.”

Eddie picks up his guitar and slings it over his shoulder. He fiddles with the strap so that it doesn’t hang so low, then he stands up straight. “Something like this?” Eddie affects the rigid behavior of early, white guitar players from the 50s, strumming out something cheery but simple. 

Steve films him, zooming in before zooming out as Jeff and Gareth join Eddie. The kids shout out suggestions, critiquing their imitation of square musicians. 

Nancy says, “Eddie, your hair isn’t exactly matching the attitude.”

He slips out of his guitar strap and goes to her. “Do something with it.”

As Nancy takes on that task, with Robins help, Steve turns to Jeff and Gareth. “Let’s try something else.”

He has them line up against the opposite wall and pose. “How are we supposed to pose?” Jeff asks.

“Like you think us jocks pose,” Lucas says.

Gareth frowns. “You’re barely a jock, Lucas.”

Lucas drops his mouth open and throws his arms out to the side. “I played basketball and I wasn’t on the freshman team.”

Steve pushes Lucas in the middle of his back. “Show them how to do it.”

Lucas does, leaning against the wall with one foot up on the wall. Steve starts filming again capturing Gareth’s smile as they stand back to back with Lucas. And Jeff’s “steel blue” look, his sunglasses lowered and his lips pushed out in a sexy pout. Eddie joins them, his hair pulled back in a messy bun, his bangs back from his forehead in a wave. 

Steve takes a second to stare at him, how much more open his face seems like that. Nancy steps up to him and clears her throat and he goes back to filming, Eddie joining in with the cool posturing. He places his arm on Lucas’s head and leans on him, it causes them all to laugh.

Will comes over and offers them some of Nancy’s colorful scarfs. Jeff takes off his hat and wraps the scarf around his head like he is Audrey Hepburn or another 20s starlet. Gareth wraps it around their neck, dramatically flinging it over their shoulder. Will runs back over to the couch to grab Steve’s letterman jack and hands it over to Eddie. He slips it on without a second thought and starts strutting around not unlike a chicken. Jeff and Gareth cheer him on, while Lucas and Will pretend to bow down to him. Dustin runs in to throw imaginary flowers at his feet.

Even Steve is laughing behind the camera. He is hardly distracted by Eddie dressing in his clothes, wearing his letterman jacket. It does nothing to his heart rate. It doesn’t flush his skin or make him lick his lips. And when Eddie turns to the camera and stares directly at the lens, Steve doesn’t at all feel like Eddie is performing for him.

After a while, Max declares they need to change up the outfits. Steve goes back to his place on the wall so he is out of the way of the others, who are riffling through their options, holding them up to the CC boys before rejecting that option. Steve does film it, mainly close ups of the band members, cutting out the others faces (just in case they don’t want to be in the video submission). Max gives Eddie and Gareth both some of Steve’s old practice jerseys and basketball shorts. Jeff is given a button up shirt and sport jacket.

Jeff and Gareth go to change before Max is done with Eddie. She seems to be trying to decide on accessories, jewelry mainly. Lucas has come over and is making suggestions, which Max listens to with only a little eye roll. Eventually, Jeff and Gareth exit and come back to Nancy and Robin to finish their styling. Max shoves Eddie to go change—”Ok, ok, Red. No need for violence,” he says—before turning to the others.

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve notices that Eddie hasn’t completely shut the door to the laundry room. Eddie hasn’t clocked it and pulls the shirt off revealing his bare torso. Once again, Steve’s heart is not reacting to this. Nor is his breathing. Nor the amount of sweat on his palms. Eddie unbuttons his jeans—there is certainly not an increase in spit production in his mouth—but before he pulls them off, Steve is startled by Robin clearing her throat.

“You’re lucky only I noticed you spacing out,” she says peering over her shoulder to see what Steve was so focused on. When she sees Eddie bouncing out of view, trying to get his jeans off, she whips her head around. 

Now Steve’s face does flush. “I…you see..” he sputters, trying to give her a reasonable explanation.

Robin mimics fingers zipping over her lips; Steve stops trying to explain. “Not right now,” she whispers. “Just keep your eyes in your own pants for now.”

Steve’s face heats up even more and he studies his shoes rather than meet her eye.

Eddie exits the laundry room full dressed in Steve’s old practice gear. Max hands him a sweatband that he places over his head, and a necklace that he slips over his head. 

As they make their way to the wall, Lucas gives Eddie some quick pointers on basketball form. Nancy is saying something to Jeff about him pretending to be the bodyguard or their manager, Steve is only half listening. Gareth and Eddie are trying to mimic Lucas’s easy movements as he pretends to dribble a ball and then go up for a shot. It’s clear that Eddie hasn’t played sports recently, but there is a gracefulness to his moments, a showmanship maybe. 

Steve zooms in on Eddie as he pretends to shoot a basket over and over again. Robin leans on his shoulder and whispers, “Don’t be obvious now or Nancy will also pick up on it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says back. She hums disbelievingly right back. “I thought we weren’t talking about it.”

“We aren’t, and I wasn’t. I was not not talking about it.”

Steve zooms out as the band members start interacting with each other. Their acting is more loose, more silly now that they’ve warmed up. Eddie jumps into Jeff’s arms, who surprisingly catches him, and flips off the camera, his tongue sticking out like he is in Kiss. Once Eddie is back on the ground, Gareth jumps on Eddie’s back for a piggy-back ride, pretending to shoot ball after ball as Eddie walks. Steve gets a good few seconds of Jeff laughing so hard he bends over.

After a few minutes of this, Nancy decides it’s time to put them in their own clothes. Though the girls have thoughts about what top goes with which bottom, this goes much faster. They come out dressed in all black—Eddie in a sleeveless tee, the large arm holes dipping low on his ribs, Gareth in a shirt with a skeleton using bones on a drum kit, and Gareth in a shirt that reads Hellfire Club—and the girls make final tweaks. 

Robin takes down Eddie’s hair only to pull up the top half into a ponytail while he makes faces at Will standing in front of him. He keeps lifting his hands to change his face making his muscles move in interesting ways that Steve can see through the arm hole. Steve does his best not to ogle him, but he appreciates the view nonetheless.

The final scenes go quickly, the boys posturing more like themselves, pulling the kids in for some of the shots. Nancy and Robin change out a few of their accessories every few minutes, using pieces they used with other outfits—Nancy says, “It’s like a symbol or a theme,”—and Max directs them to do different things. Everyone is laughing and egging them on. 

At one point, Eddie darts toward Steve who rushes out of the way as Eddie grabs for the mic and lip syncs into it, the camera rolling the whole time. Steve is impressed by how realistic it appears, especially as there is no music playing.

They wrap up as Dustin’s mom calls. “Mom, I told you I was at Steve’s house,” he grumbles into the phone as he goes upstairs to finish the conversation. “Yes, Steve Harrington from the newspaper.”

“Newspaper,” Steve asks.

Eddie answers. “His mom likes to read the local paper, to know what’s going on in town and she is a big fan of your sports exploits.”

Steve pulls a confused face. “I’ve been in the paper?”

Eddie squints at him. “You didn’t know?”

Dustin comes barreling down the stairs. “I’ve gotta get home before dinner.”

“I think we’re done here,” Nancy says. “Right, Steve?”

Steve holds up his camera and shakes it. “Great work everyone. That’s a wrap.”

Will and Lucas shout and high five, though Will misses and Lucas makes him do it again. Nancy turns to the kids. “I can give you guys a ride home.”

Max thumbs over at Eddie. “I’ll go with him. We’re neighbors.”

Steve sets his camera down. “Let’s get this stuff up to the cars.”

They make quick work of it, only needing two trips, even with all the music equipment. Eddie tries to help Steve take his stuff back up to his room, arguing that after Steve’s generous offer to use his house as a practice space and then only doing it once, Eddie owes him that much. But Steve stops him pointing out how illogical his reasoning is. Steve makes everyone take snacks with them, even if it’s only a handful of chips on a napkin. Nancy and Robin take off with Dustin, Lucas, and Will stuffed into the back seat. Max, Jeff, and Gareth load up into Eddie’s van. Eddie is still in the kitchen with Steve, trying to help him clean up.

“Thanks for doing this,” he says as Steve hip checks him away, again, from putting something away. “We didn’t even eat the snacks.”

“It’s no problem, honest.” Steve opens the fridge and loads the unopened pops back onto their designated shelf. 

“When are you gonna be done with the video?” Eddie leans across the island toward Steve.

“I’ll probably go through today’s footage tonight, narrow down what might work for what I’ve got so far. But I need one thing from you.”

“What’s that?” Eddie asks.

Steve turns to him and places his hands on the island. “The song.”

“Right, of course.”

“The deadline is Thursday. I’d like to have it done by Wednesday so you guys can approve it.”

The front door opens and Max yells. “I may not have a mom to call me home for dinner but I’d like to get home eventually.”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” Eddie yells back.

“Stop flirting and let’s go.” She closes the door a little harder than necessary.

Steve’s face heats and he notices that Eddie has some pink in his cheeks to. “On that note,” Eddie says, tapping the counter, “I’m gonna head out.”

“Text me when you’ve got a song,” Steve says, walking Eddie to the door.

“Not for any other reasons.” Eddie slides his hands into the pockets of his vest.

Steve opens the door and leans against it. “I suppose you could text me some jokes.”

“I’m all out of those.” He shrugs. “But I can offer subtle reminders to stay humble.”

Steve gives Eddie a half smile and a laugh. “Yeah, I think I need some of those.”

Max honks the horn, leaning over from the back. Jeff in the passenger seat taps his wrist. “Right, see ya.” Eddie stomps to the car shooting glares at his friends. Once he is inside, Steve can see Jeff laughing and Gareth poking at Eddie. When they finally pull away, Jeff flutters his fingers at Steve in goodbye.

When Eddie makes it home Monday night, after dropping off Jeff and Gareth, and forcing Max to go home and stop teasing him, he thinks he’ll have a moment of peace.

Upon opening the trailer door, he sees that that won’t the case. The table light is on in the living room and a figure is sitting in the chair next to it.

“Hello, son,” Wayne says from his chair, iPad in his lap as he scrolls through news articles.

Eddie takes his shoes off at the door. “I forgot you weren’t working tonight. I would’ve told you where I was.”

Wayne holds up his phone from the arm rest of the chair. “Find your friend app. Though I am awfully curious what you were doing at the Harrington’s place.” Eddie wants to ask but Wayne interrupts him. “I did a stint as a pool cleaner when you first moved in and they haven’t moved houses.”

Eddie sits in the other chair and pulls the leg rest out so he doesn’t have to look at his uncle as they have this conversation.

Wayne doesn’t look up from scrolling, reaches out for his coffee mug—full caffeine, like Eddie it doesn’t really do much—from memory and takes a sip before setting it back on its coaster on the table. “I know I am getting old, but if my memory serves me right, that Harrington boy was involved in the event that didn’t happen but caused your hand to be broken.”

When Eddie had called Wayne to come get him, and Wayne had forced him to go to the ER, Eddie hadn’t wanted to talk about it, didn’t want to make a big deal of it for fear that would make things worse. Eventually Wayne, and the motherly nurses on duty, had convinced him to say something. Eddie didn’t give them much, but enough for Wayne to talk to the school admin and threaten lawsuits—he wouldn’t follow through of course, those are expensive, but the admin didn’t know that. That had been enough for Eddie to get out of his band class with the passing grade he had before his hand broke. To his knowledge, neither Tommy nor Steve received consequences for it though he did notice a few more teachers in the halls during passing periods and after school got out.

“Kinda,” Eddie says.

“Kind of.” Wayne enunciates the individual sound of the words. “I assume by the way you sauntered in here that you are whole and hale.”

“Not a hair out of place,” Eddie says with only a slight smirk. When the girls put his hair up, took it down, and put it back up in it’s current arrangement, they may have pulled a few hairs, but that seems irrelevant to Wayne’s line of questioning. 

“Please, explain then what you were doing there.”

Eddie sighs and sits up in the chair so that the back is upright. “Steve is helping us with our video submission for the Battle of the Bands.”

“Steve?”

“The Harrington’s kid.”

“Go on.”

Eddie knows that Wayne wants more detail but as he is still working through processing the last few weeks, he doesn’t want to offer up much. “We had a conversation a few weeks ago, things were cool between us, and he offered to help. We took him up on it.”

Wayne glances at Eddie over his reading glasses. “Things were cool.” He draws out the word cool, telling Eddie that he doesn’t for one second believe the bullshit spilling from Eddie’s lips.

But Eddie needs time to deal with it himself. He’s almost an adult, older than all his peers since his parents moved so much when he was young and he repeated kindergarten. Wayne can’t help him through all of this, and his suspicion will only lead to Eddie not dealing with his own feelings. 

He slaps his knees and presses the foot rest back into the chair. “Yep, totally cool. I’m gonna go listen to music in my room.”

Wayne watches him walk across the room into the kitchen. “Your dinner is in the microwave.”

Eddie doesn’t respond, just heads straight for his room. He spends the rest of the night going over the whole evening at Steve’s house. Mostly it was fine, fun even. But he caught Steve watching him a few times and he could swear he saw something in that look. Not hatred or fear, more like curiosity. 

It is just his mind messing with him, he tells himself a million times as the minutes tick by. Wouldn’t it be so convenient for him to develop a crush on the popular jock, one that used to bully him, and then for that same popular jock to have a crush on him? A straight popular jock at that.

When Eddie wakes up, his outlook is no better and his head no clearer. All of Tuesday and Wednesday he walks through the halls of Hawkins High like a zombie. His mind elsewhere, running probabilities and scenarios that are far from possible. That or he is crafting texts to send to Steve, only to delete them, telling himself he sounds desperate and needy. A few make it through the self-hatred.

Tuesday, 9:13 am

Eddie: Remember, not everyone thinks you are the bee’s knees

Steve: Just in time

Steve: My head was just starting to fill up

Steve: But this stopped the process 🙏

Later that day, Steve reaches out again. Eddie never responded, all his possible comebacks being sacrificed to his nervous spiral.

Steve: Can you come by Wednesday to go over the final edit of the video?

Eddie holds off on responding, falling victim to the teenage adage of waiting to respond to make them want you more. Or as Uncle Wayne would probably say, “Absence makes the heart grow founder.” He does eventually cave because Steve’s question is simple and Eddie does want to see the video.

Eddie: I’m free after 7

The hours until then are agonizing. His friends are no help either. After Monday night, Jeff and Gareth are convinced that Eddie has a crush. Max having gotten a ride home from him, picked up on their suspicions and spread it to the freshman kids. Will and Dustin manage to stop any teasing Eddie in person, but he’s sure it’s a huge topic of conversation when they aren’t around him. And the way the freshman talk, Steve may already know.

And it’s not like he can deny it. He does, obviously, but there is no punch behind it. At lunch on Tuesday, Jeff and Gareth pull him aside, away from the freshman to check in. 

“So we know this crush is real,” Gareth starts.

“And we aren’t gonna judge you for being gay,” Jeff continues. Eddie is stunned into silence. 

“But does it have to be this guy?” Gareth holds back their hair as the wind blows it into their face.

Jeff moves to block Gareth with his body. “We remember freshman year. He broke your hand. You had to relearn how to play!”

Eddie shakes his head. “Tommy did the breaking. Steve was there, but I don’t think my memories of his part in it are accurate.”

“Now you’re making excuses for him,” Jeff exclaims. “That’s not good, bro.”

“It’s not an excuse,” Eddie says. “I’m admitting that my memory could be faulty.”

Gareth won’t look at him and Jeff crosses his arms over his chest, a frown creasing his face.

“Even if Steve had some part in it, he was fourteen. A kid. I’m not saying it’s ok, I’m saying that a lot can change in three years.”

“But did this change?” Jeff points down aggressively. “That’s what matters.”

Eddie looks at Gareth. “You’ve seen the change in him, haven’t you Gareth? He’s not the same guy. Could we have hung out with freshman Steve like we did last night?”

Gareth still won’t meet Eddie’s eye. Instead, they scuff their shoe against the asphalt. “I can’t say he’s fully changed, but he seems different. He is helping us.”

“See.” Eddie throws his hands up toward them, as though that clears up everything.

Jeff digs his heels in for one last point. “So what does all this mean for your revenge?”

Eddie has no response for that. 

Wednesday finally arrives, his few hours with the freshman at the rec center keep his mind occupied until it is time to drive across town to the Harrington’s house. Before he takes off, he sends a text to Wayne to let him know where he will be. He won’t be home until morning when his shift is over, but after last time, Eddie feels it’s best to over-communicate. Especially about Steve.

It isn’t until he pulls up the drive and puts the car in park next to the carport, that Eddie realizes this will be the first time they are hanging out together, alone, at Steve’s house.

This shouldn’t be a thing, but suddenly his brain decides it is. Steve opens the door before Eddie even rings the doorbell.

“Hey,” he says, his chest rising and falling like he ran to the door. Or that he is nervous.

Eddie lifts a hand and waves limply. “Hi.”

“Come in.” Steve steps aside and let’s Eddie walk in. “Can I get you anything? Are you hungry? Pop?”

Eddie laughs. “Steve, I’m not a starving orphan. You don’t have to feed me.”

Steve rubs at the back of his neck. “Of course not. It’s only…” his voice fades out, unsure how to explain it.

“I’ll take an orange pop if you still have any,” Eddie offers into the awkward silence.

Steve turns to him, all genuine smile. “I should’ve known.”

He grabs Eddie the pop and then leads him to a staircase upstairs. “My editing set up is in my bedroom.”

“Are you telling me I’ll be seeing the infamous Harrington bedroom? Can I tell all the girlies the dirty details to get social cred?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he wants to take them back. Luckily, Steve is ahead of him on the stairs and doesn’t notice the face palm that Eddie gives himself.

“I doubt there’s that much social cred available for it these days, but what’s mine is yours.” On the landing, Steve winks at him. Yet another thing to throw in the ‘maybe he isn’t imagining it’ evidence box.

Steve’s room is at the end of the hallway, in the back corner of the house overlooking the backyard and pool. Eddie’s first thought is that it is surprisingly bland. The walls are a tan color, the carpet only slightly darker. On his bed, the comforter and sheets are neatly arranged like he doesn’t actually sleep there. On the walls are a few posters, but nothing that screams Steve. He sits down at a desk and moves the mouse to wake up the desktop. Even the background here is nondescript. If Eddie hadn’t known of Steve for so long, he might think he was in witness protection or something. But, it does say something about who Steve is: someone afraid to be a person with strong opinions and interests. Or maybe someone who doesn’t know how to fully be themself.

Eddie sits in a chair next to Steve and offers him a usb drive. “Here’s the song.”

“Is it one I’ve heard?” Steve asks, his fingers grabbing the drive, but not pulling away immediately. 

“We practiced it the day we practiced here, but you might not remember it.”

Steve plugs in the drive and clicks on the mp3 file. The song explodes from the speakers—really bad ones if Eddie could share his opinion—but Steve listens like they are a golden fiddle. Then, he opens up a program that Eddie is unfamiliar with. On the screen are clips where Eddie can recognize himself, Jeff and Gareth. Even one that looks like Dustin.

“What are you doing?” Eddie whispers, not wanting to disturb Steve while he works.

“I am adding the track to the editing program so I can see how long it is. See there? That is the song and it’ll play over the video clips I’ve arranged down here.” Steve points at parts of the screen, but Eddie’s mind is half focused on how Steve’s arm brushes his shoulder.

Steve continues talking. “The song is a little longer than I anticipated, but that means I can use some of the extra footage I have.”

“Did you get this program just for our video?” Eddie asks, suddenly afraid that Steve did.

“What?” Steve turns to Eddie. “No, not at all. I use it all the time to post stupid videos online. And sometimes Nancy wants me to help edit something for the school newspaper’s website.”

“The school has a newspaper website?”

“I know right?” Steve laughs. “It’s just something I fiddle with sometimes.”

Steve starts moving things around on the screen and opening new windows. Eddie is in awe of how casual he is about this. To Eddie, this is amazing. A skill that he never would’ve thought Steve would have and it’s not something he shares with the rest of the school. The product, sure, but not the process.

On the screen is a repeating clip of Eddie lip-syncing into the mic from the other day. Steve is doing something with the clip so that it starts and stops, the part of the song repeating. His brow folds inward as he works and Eddie’s heart stutters to watch it. The concentration and attention to details, all to help Eddie. His mind can’t help but turn to erotic daydreams.

Steve leans back and says, “You know, that outfit looks really good on you.”

Eddie sputters. “Yeah?”

Steve nods, not looking at Eddie, but studying the still of Eddie yelling into the mic, the shirt hanging off him and showing his chest and part of his stomach. “You should wear it at the Battle of the Bands.”

He can’t respond as Steve leans forward and goes back to work. The words are on repeat through Eddie’s mind. Really? Good? Steve had said that and now Eddie stares at the side of Steve’s face—the curve of his cheek, the flutter of his eyelashes, the way he chewed his lip—and thinks wanton things.

For a moment, Eddie feels like an intruder, an unwelcome voyeur. He isn’t worthy of seeing this side of Steve. For so many years, he’s been one of Steve’s harshest judges. Always so sure that Steve was one thing—a bully—and could be nothing else. 

Yet, here he is, a creative soul, making something for Eddie, for the band, because he can. He hasn’t even asked for anything in return. Eddie feels like the worst kind of creep.

But then, Steve gazes at him and smiles. “Am I boring you?”

Eddie sighs, his shoulders lowering as he shakes off the negative thoughts from a moment before. “Not in the slightest. I had no idea you were so creative.”

“Hardly.” Steve brushes off the idea. 

Eddie doesn’t push it. He knows that knowing how to do something and doing something with that feel separate before someone watches you do it. Being able to play guitar felt like mimicking, not art. Not until he started writing his own music and playing it for other people. It wasn’t until he did that that he could call himself, at least in his own mind, an artist. Before that, it was all just futzing around.

“Are you ready?” Steve asks, drawing Eddie out of his mind.

“It’s ready?”

“Well, a draft that is ok for you to see. If you don’t like it, we can tweak things. It’s your submission after all.”

“Ok, let’s watch it,” Eddie whispers.

Steve gets up and walks to the door. When Eddie gives him a look, just before he shuts off the lights, Steve replies, “We can’t effectively judge it with the lights on.”

Eddie swallows his nerves. His mind is absolutely not focused on being in the dark, alone, in Steve Harrington’s room. Not even a little bit.

Steve sits down next to him, fiddles with the program on the desktop so it goes full screen. Then he pushes play.

Steve pushes back from the desk to let Eddie have the space to take it in. Instead of watching the screen, he watches Eddie. The light from his desktop paints Eddie’s face in blues with an occasional highlight of red or purple. Eddie’s eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly open as he takes the video in.

Eddie’s texts must not be working, because Steve is feeling less than humble about what he’s put together. The quality of the footage may be poor, but the analog quality actually goes with the band’s feel. Corroded Coffin isn’t a big band, bought into the music production cycle. These musicians are real, they are authentic. And that’s the message that Steve wants to get across, especially to the kids at school. Metal may not be your music choice, but these are true musicians. You will find something to connect to here.

As the video continues, the corners of Eddie’s open mouth start to travel upward. It feels like winning to make Eddie smile, like shooting a basket with one second left, your heart racing as it travels to the hoop, the silence that descends upon the gym before the snap of the net. Steve can’t get enough.

The video ends leaving the screen black. Before Steve can move to escape from the full screen or turn a light on, Eddie grabs his wrist. “Steve,” he says like an exhale.

“Eddie?”

“That was,” he stops. Steve can’t pull his attention from Eddie’s hand on his wrist, skin to skin contact, in the dark. His stomach spins, he licks his lips as he waits for Eddie to finish his thought. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem—”

“Don’t,” Eddie cuts him off. He squeezes Steve’s wrist. “This isn’t a small thing for me.”

Steve swallows. Eddie could mean a million things by that and Steve can’t begin to guess. “Ok, Eds. You’re welcome.”

Eddie releases his hand and Steve exits the full screen so that light falls on Eddie once again. Steve stands to flip the light on too. “I guess that means you like it?”

Eddie nods. “More than. I don’t know how to explain it, but you got it. Even without knowing the song, the video goes perfectly with it.”

Steve smiles. “Anything you want to tweak?”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “Can we post it now? I don’t want to chicken out later.”

Steve sits back down and navigates to the school website. He reads over the requirements for the file, just to be sure everything is right. A stupid mistake on his part will not get in the way of Corroded Coffin making it to the stage. Then the screen to upload a file is up on his screen. Steve chooses the file, clicks upload, and waits.

“Are you sure?” Steve stares at the side of Eddie’s face silently begging—though he would never admit to it—that Eddie would turn and look at him. “I promise it’s not a problem to change anything.”

“It’s gotta be this one.”

Steve slides the mouse toward Eddie. “Want to do the honors?”

Eddie takes the mouse and moves it to hover over the submit button and clicks it. The next screen asks them to fill out empty boxes about who is submitting the video.

“A bit anti-climatic,” Steve mumbles. He lets Eddie commandeer his keyboard to fill it out, watching over his shoulder as his fingers fly over the keys. In a short minute, he submits the form and the screen reads, “Thank you for submitting your entry for the Hawkins High School Battle of the Bands competition,” followed by a countdown to the start of voting.

“How do you feel?” Steve asks. He’d been pacing as Eddie filled out the form, letting his mind riffle through trivial memories and thoughts.

Eddie studies Steve over his shoulder. “Alive.”

Chapter Text

Steve has a problem. After Wednesday night, he has no other reason to hang out with Eddie. When the sun rises, he tells himself his concern was for the bet and putting Tommy in his place. But during the witching hours, when he is in bed, he can be a bit more honest with himself. 

He enjoys being around Eddie. His laugh, his stories, his Munson Doctrine. The way his eyes twinkled just before he does something to annoy you. 

The more time Steve spends with Eddie, the less he understood why the rest of the school refers to him as ‘the freak’. He is no more strange than anyone Steve knows personally. No more strange than himself, only Eddie doesn’t hold back his strangeness. He may feel like he has made himself small for others consumption, but it is nothing compared to what Steve has done.

He supposes he can just reach out to Eddie and ask to hang out—they are friendly now—or even show up at the rec center, but it feels wrong. Or maybe Steve is too used to being the one that people flock to and now he feels himself soaring toward Eddie.

The solution to his problem comes from an unsuspected source, at least when it came to solving things. Ashley, in his English class, says that she heard from Bridget who heard from Ryan who is friends with Chase that there is a party this Saturday at Chase’s cousin’s house and that he should totally come. “It’s going to be big,” she says with too much vocal fry.

It’s not exactly Eddie’s scene, or hasn’t been up until this point. But Steve thinks that he can win him over to the idea by inviting Jeff and Gareth and even the freshman. He may even throw in a point about gathering votes for their band, since Saturday is when the voting starts.

He waits until last period to text Eddie, wanting to examine the idea in his head and predict any possible issues. 

Steve: you guys have a gig tonight right

Eddie: Yeah in Indianapolis

Steve: do you have plans for Saturday night?

Eddie doesn’t respond right away. He must be texting his friends to see if they have plans before responding.

Eddie: Did you have something in mind?

Steve: there’s this party

Eddie: oh

Steve: I thought between Robin, Nancy and I and you, Jeff, and Gareth we could keep an eye on the freshies and give them a taste of their first big party

Steve: and put out the word to vote for Corroded Coffin for the botb

Steve: turn on that famous Munson charm

Again, there is a pause on Eddie’s end. Steve turns his attention to his class, or tries to, but it is Friday and the last period of the day and the sun is shining outside. Who could blame him for thinking of other, better things?

Eddie: Munson charm?

Eddie: don’t think anyone has ever claimed any Munson has charm

Eddie: but we could always borrow yours

Eddie: We’re in, but no freshman. I can’t bring them to a party and then caution them to behave responsibly at my job.

Steve: fair enough

When the bell rings, Steve’s heart feels light and giddy. He practically skips to his car and smiles at everyone walking past him. Before he drives out of the parking lot, he sends Eddie one more text.

Steve: Good luck tonight

He doesn’t expect a text back. The conversation he had last period with Eddie may be the longest one they’ve had over text. But when he gets home and checks his phone, he sees a notification.

Eddie: We don’t need it

Saturday before the party goes by in the blink of an eye. Steve thought that doing some homework would slow the day down, but that backfires. A little before Eddie and crew arrive to give him a ride, he lays out the first outfit that Eddie wore the previous Monday and sends a picture to Eddie.

Steve: I can bring these threads

Steve: you know, for brand recognition

Eddie: 😐 no

Steve lays out the second outfit, his practice jersey, and sends another picture.

Steve: is this one more what you’re thinking?

Eddie: 😂 never

Eddie: I can’t steal your thunder

Steve: 🙄

Steve: fine 

Steve: but my final vote is for the last outfit

Steve: it worked for you

He stares at his phone at the last message he sent, wondering if it says more (or less) than he wants it to say. What does he want it to say? The more he looks at it, the less sense it makes until he finally has to throw his phone on the bed and get dressed. He is cognizant of Eddie as he runs his fingers over the clothes hanging in his closet. Wearing his normal clothes is not an option, it’ll contrast too much with Eddie and draw attention away from him. In the end, he goes with a dark wash jean, a black tee, and a blue bomber jacket.

Then, he spends an inordinate amount of time on his hair. Getting it damp, blow drying it, adding product so that it lays just right. He wants it to frame his face and have volume so it stays back.

He leaves the house with hardly a minute to spare as Eddie’s van pulls up his driveway. Eddie said he’d feel better if he had an out if the party went south and Steve didn’t mind being a passenger. Jeff and Gareth live in the direction of the party so once Steve is situated, they head that way. He is treated to twenty minutes of classic metal. The band head bangs and Steve pretends to be bothered, but he is starting to see the appeal of the genre.

The house is located on a back road which is convenient for hiding it from others. But as they pull down the road, Steve wonders up until they see all the parked cars if this is the right location. Then as they turn a corner, the house appears and all around them are haphazardly parked vehicles. 

Eddie turns around and parks along the road going back out. Walking in through the front doors is a strange experience as the four of them draw a lot of attention. At first, Steve ignores it, thinking that it is the usual attention or that perhaps there is another rumor circulating that he saved someone from drowning. Except the looks are directed at Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth.

“What is happening?” Eddie asks Steve, leaning in to be heard over the music. They stop in a room off of the kitchen that is open to the backyard.

Steve shrugs. “I don’t have a clue.”

Just then, Robin appears and grabs him into a hug, Nancy close behind. “My boys and Gareth,” she cries, clearly being effected by the energy of the party. “You guys are big news.”

“We’ve noticed,” Jeff grumbles.

“It’s your video,” Nancy says. “People are theorizing that the footage from school means you did the morning announcements prank.”

“And,” Robin says pointing a finger high in the air, “you are getting cool points for pulling it off.”

“Cool points aren’t a thing, Robin,” says Steve.

“Not to you cool boy, but they matter for the rest of us,” Eddie says.

“So people are voting for Corroded Coffin?” Gareth asks, twisting their hands in front of them.

Nancy pinches her lips in a smile and nods her head. Robin adds, “From what we’ve heard at the party, you have a few fans here.”

Jeff and Gareth high-five, but Eddie smiles at Steve. It sours something in his stomach suddenly because the smile seems to say that this is Steve’s doing. And sure, Steve helped. But what Eddie doesn’t know is the reason for that and if he ever found out, he wouldn’t be looking at Steve like that.

“Finally,” Steve crows, “the people are recognizing your talent.” It does little to quiet his guilty conscience. 

Jeff and Gareth go off to find the stocks of booze with promises to return with their findings. And Nancy and Robin head off to dance, leaving Steve and Eddie alone. Steve gestures toward the backyard thinking that it’ll be easier to breathe outside. They find two vacant beach chairs away from much of the party goers and sit down.

“So this is what popular kid parties are like?”

Steve scoffs. “I guess. You know you could’ve come to these parties if you wanted.”

“And be ridiculed. No thanks.”

“Has anyone said anything to you here?” Steve glances over at him, a little hurt that after all this time, Eddie is returning to high school cliches.

“I guess not.”

“I know things haven’t been easy for you at school,” Steve says slowly, knowing that he is treading on thin ice, ice that he broke up in the first place. “But at these parties, everyone is looking to have a good time and get wasted. You don’t have to be popular to do that. Things aren’t always like the movies.”

Eddie hums. “It’s fine. If I came to parties in my younger years, I wouldn’t have spent so much time learning how to play guitar. It works out in the end.”

“You spent your time learning a useful skill and I spent mine impressing shallow people. If you think about it, I’m the sad one of the two of us.”

Silence falls between them and Steve tilts his head back and looks at the sky. This far from the city, he can almost see a few stars. The large bonfire flickering in the corner of his vision isn’t helping, but even squinting at them makes him feel the comfort of seeing them.

“Impressing shallow people?” Eddie asks. 

Steve turns to Eddie. “Yeah,” he sighs. “I guess I’m feeling a little melancholic about the path I took in high school as we near graduation. Getting to know you these last four weeks shows me how little the people around me know about who I am.”

“Popularity isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“It’s exactly what it’s cracked up to be,” Steve says. “But something cracked can’t hold anything. So I guess what I’m saying is I’ve got nothing to show for it.”

Eddie fiddles with his rings, his mouth open like he wants to say something. Eventually, he gets there. “Does there need to be something substantial to feel like it was worth it?”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, do you need your own version of the guitar? Or could your “product” of your time in high school be something abstract? Like your friendship with Robin.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or he does, but it feels childish. What he wants to say is that yes, it needs to be physical, something he can see, or else it doesn’t count. If other people can’t see it, can’t acknowledge it, if he is just a funny memory in their minds in twenty years, then he doesn’t matter. Instead, he says, “It doesn’t feel like that counts.”

“To who?”

And that stumps Steve, for just a moment. Then an image of his dad appears in his mind.

Eddie grips Steve’s shoulder. “Munson Doctrine rule 103, don’t live your life for someone else. They won’t care and you’ll never be happy with it.”

Steve gazes back up at the stars, now desperately wishing that he could see them, if only to give him something else to focus on. “Number 103?” he asks, voice wavering only slightly. He is sure Eddie doesn’t notice. Eddie pats his shoulder and returns it to his lap. “You must’ve lived a lot of life to have 103 points in your doctrine at the ripe age of 18.”

“I’m 19,” Eddie corrects. “Now, another point in my doctrine, rule 58, is that big emotional talks need to be had with substances. And since we are at a party, there’s got to be alcohol somewhere.”

“Yes, please,” Steve gasps.

“Some friends,” Eddie jokes as they walk back to the house. “Jeff and Gareth said they’d bring us something and never did.”

Steve tries to adopt the same jovial tone. “Ah, you can’t blame them. They’ve been drawn in by the wonders of the party. They’re hard to resist.”

Inside, they make their way to the kitchen where the drinks are haphazardly scattered on the counters. Half empty bottles and solo cups litter the space. Eddie starts collecting bottles and somehow finds two clean cups. He sets them on an empty bit of counter and pours a little from the collected bottles. It reminds Steve of an alchemist or a wizard, the way he sniffs a bottle before squatting to monitor how much he pours in. 

“This will do you,” Eddie says handing over the cup before taking up his own.

The tap the cups together before Steve takes a sip. It goes down hard but in the wake of the burn is a sugary warmth. “That is something.”

Eddie grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “For what it’s worth, I think—”

He’s interrupted by an unwelcome voice from the dining room. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my old friend, Steve.” Tommy appears, like some sort of cliche, by pushing his way through a group of sophomores. 

He is the last person Steve wanted to see here, especially because he is here with Eddie. All it does is remind Steve of the bet and that Eddie doesn’t know about it. As Tommy gets closer, Steve reads his demeanor trying to decide how to react. Does he say hey and act like they are civil? Does he bark out some cutting remark and get him to leave? Before Steve can decide, Tommy does it for him.

“And who is this?” He points at Eddie and looks behind him at Billy and Jason who slip through the crowd.

“Is that the freak?” Jason crows in his “bro” voice. Steve played basketball with him for four years, he’s intimately familiar with it and the irritation it causes him. 

Steve scans Eddie, still wanting some sign of what he should do in this moment. Eddie bites his lip and furrows his brow, but says nothing in his own defense. So neither does Steve.

Billy walks up to Steve. “What are you doing with the freak?” he asks. His eyes are glassy and his lips stumble on the f of freak.

Steve speaks without thinking. “Do you want something? Or are you just trying to stir up trouble?” He directs this at Tommy, not giving Billy the satisfaction.

Tommy smirks. “Oh, just wanted to say we watched your little video submission.” At this, Tommy twirls his finger toward Eddie. “Heard through Zach that you helped them, Harrington.”

“And?” Steve asks. His body is warming up and without meaning to, his hands have balled up into fists.

Tommy turns his attention from Steve to Eddie who tenses waiting for a blow. Steve steps closer to him wanting in some way to protect him, but a blow never comes.

“You think you are some sort of guitar god, don’t you? Just because you’re video gets a few measly votes,” Tommy spits.

Eddie huffs. “I think we stand a chance and that pisses you off.” The crowd mumbles creating a buzzing around them.

“Hardly. You’re nothing. Getting pissed off about you would be like getting mad at the ants under my foot.”

Eddie’s lips turn into a sly grin. “Nah, I get under your skin. Why else would you go out of your way to bother me?”

Tommy’s face twists into a growl. “Let’s have it out, right here.”

Steve steps in. “Tommy, don’t be stupid.”

“Eric has amps and guitars. We’ll play it out. See who is the best.”

Steve, relieved that Tommy didn’t want to fight, turns to Eddie. “You don’t have to do this. You already know you are better than him. I’ve known him for years and I didn’t even know he played guitar. There’s no way—”

Eddie speaks over him. “You’re on.”

The crowd cheers. Strangers bring out the amps and the guitars and set them up in the living room. Steve has a bad feeling about this as Tommy’s worse qualities come out when he is competing. But maybe, he’s at the sweet spot of drunk and will give in when defeated.

Eric steps between them as Eddie fiddles with the guitar, making sure it is in tune, Steve figures. “All right, here are the rules. Eddie, you are the challengee so you will play a guitar riff, no more than 30 seconds. Tommy, you will play the same riff but add on to it. Eddie, you either play the same one and add something, or pick a new, more challenging one. We go until one of you falters.”

Eddie fingers the strings along the neck of the guitar with his left hand without strumming with his right, planning out what he will play. Nancy and Robin slide up beside him, Jeff and Gareth behind them. 

“Is he sure about this?” Gareth asks.

Robin shakes her head. “It’s too late to back down now.”

That’s when Eddie strikes his first chord. Then another. And another in quick succession. His fingers blur as they jump along the strings. The music is short and quick and Eddie plays it like it’s nothing. All the tension from before when they were staring down Tommy has left. His fingers move like water, smooth. 

Eric steps forward to signal time is up and Eddie stills his fingers. The crowd that pushes against Steve lets out a raucous cheer. “Good job, good job,” Eric says to Eddie. Then he turns to Tommy, who appears less than confident. His mouth is hanging open and his arms are limp at his sides. “Your turn.”

Eddie watches Tommy, that mischievous glint in his eye. 

Steve is certain that Eddie has this. There is no way Tommy has this level of skill. 

Except.

Tommy grabs the guitar, holding it like a slippery fish, and jams his fingers on the strings. The guitar screeches out the chords like an angry cat. He bites his lip as he stumbles and his fingers slur over the neck of the guitar. Still, he gets it out and adds something at the end. Jason and Billy cheer, but few others in the crowd do. Tommy scowls at them and turns it on Eddie.

Eddie starts his next riff before Eric can do anything but stumble to start a timer on his phone. As he runs his hand down the strings on the body of the guitar, his head bangs out the rhythm. Steve can tell it is a different song, the notes are grouped into short bursts.

“Master of puppets,” Jeff gasps. Steve looks up at him, confused. He responds, “Metallica.”

His fingers climb up the neck of the guitar and the chords follow. Energy courses through the crowd, they can’t hold back their excitement and noises spring from their lips. Eddie responds, turning toward them, feeding on their energy and giving it back tenfold.

“Time.” Eric has to call twice over the noise which only gets louder when Eddie stops playing. He releases his guitar and throws both hands up in devil horns. Jeff and Gareth respond doing the same. Jason and Billy’s faces suggest this isn’t going like they thought it would. But Steve can’t fathom that they thought it would go well.

Eric gives the floor to Tommy, who takes up his guitar and plucks out something resembling what Eddie did, though he adds little flourishes between each burst of chords up the neck of the guitar. The crowd gives Tommy none of the energy it gave to Eddie, happy to watch him fail so obviously at something and having the safety of numbers to call him out on it. 

Though, a frisson of fear tears through Steve all the same. Tommy is unpredictable. His angry could release immediately or days later. Or both. Even if Eddie wins this, it won’t be the last run in with Tommy.

A few in the crowd boo when Tommy finishes his turn. Eric silences them tamping his hands down in the air. “No need for boos, this is a party, we’re just here to have fun. I declare that we’ll continue to the next round. Eddie.”

Eddie stands there a moment, watching the crowd, his pick pinched between his lips. It’s like he is searching his memories for a bit of guitar playing that will blow Tommy out of the water. Steve wants to tell him he doesn’t have to destroy Tommy, that there is no use. He always comes back, stronger and asking for more. 

He removes the pick and begins. The pick jumps over a few strings over and over again, then his fingers move like spiders over the neck. Someone to Steve’s left starts dancing to Eddie’s solo.

Robin points and cheers them on. “Never thought I’d see the day,” Gareth says, holding up a camera to film Eddie, then the dancer.

Jeff, voice breathy with surprise. “Welcome to the new world.”

“Is this a song?” Steve asks.

“Technical Difficulties by Racer X,” Jeff answers. “One of the most difficult solos in metal.”

Steve admires Eddie as he effortlessly goes through the motions of the solo. He knows nothing about music or playing an instrument, but watching how fast and how much Eddie’s fingers move, he can tell this is not something for the faint of heart.

Eric tries to step in but the crowd is too loud, maybe Eddie ignores him, either way the music continues. In the corner, Tommy is turning purple with anger as he tries to figure out how to play the song. Eventually, he swaggers up next to Eddie and starts to strum out chords. Only, they are all wrong. The discordant noise breaks the happy bubble of the crowd and they turn on Tommy. Every one jeers at him, even Robin let’s her distaste be known.

Eddie looks at Steve, a smile on his face and his chest rises and falling rapidly. Steve looks back, but try as he might, he can’t mirror Eddie’s excitement. Tommy is the rattlesnake in the bushes, he will strike out. He heads over to Eddie, ready to respond if needed.

Eric gets there at the same town, looking sorrowful as he says to Tommy, “I think the crowd has spoken. Though, even if they didn’t, it didn’t look like you were going to manage that particular melody.”

Eddie smirks. “Flew too close to the sun there.”

“Shut up, que—”

“Tommy!” Steve interjects.

Eddie steps towards him and holds up his right hand. “All this is thanks to you, Tommy boy. If you hadn’t broken my hand freshman year, I wouldn’t be as good as I am.”

“Fuck you,” Tommy shoots back.

“Watch yourself,” Steve hisses, putting an arm against Tommy’s chest as he tries to step toward Eddie.

Tommy cuts his gaze to Steve and almost growls. Then, Jason and Billy are there beside him. “It’s not worth it,” Jason whispers. Tommy grunts and they walk away. 

Jeff and Gareth come up behind Steve full of congratulations and Eddie turns away to celebrate with them. But Steve doesn’t stop watching where Tommy disappeared into the crowd. His gut tells him it isn’t over.

The party goes on, with Eddie more popular than before. Strangers come up to him to talk about his performance and how happy they were to see Tommy suck or to tell him they already voted today but they are going to vote for his band tomorrow. If Tommy hadn’t orchestrated it himself, Steve would be pleased with the outcome. It bodes well for Eddie and Corroded Coffin. And Steve.

But it isn’t long before Tommy strikes. Steve is sitting between Eddie and Robin, with Nancy on her other side. Steve is turned toward Eddie as he talks to yet another new fan, a sophomore, who is desperately flirting with Eddie. The egregious display makes Steve roll his eyes, but Eddie is being so sweet to her. It makes Steve grit his teeth.

Next to him, Robin gasps loudly and turns to show Nancy something on her phone. Steve sees it out the corner of his eye but when he investigates, they are sitting head to head and he figures it is a them thing. Until Robin lifts her head, her big brown eyes full of a specific kind of horror and hurt. She leans in to him and whispers, “Grab Eddie. We’ve gotta show him this, but not in front of everyone.”

The girls get up and walk out the front door as it’s closest. Steve twists to reach Eddie’s ear. “Robin said she’s gotta show us something.”

Eddie doesn’t look at Steve when he says back, “Yeah, give me a second.” Steve gets up anyway and goes to find the girls. 

Outside, Robin holds her phone out for him to see. It’s a soundless video from Eddie’s performance. Only Tommy has added crude drawings of dicks in strategic places to make it look like Eddie is doing things to them. Along the bottom of the video are some choice slurs. Steve knew he wouldn’t let this embarrassment go without retaliation. 

It is the freshman incident all over again, but this time Steve can’t pull Tommy away from the scene of the crime. Without thinking, he says, “He said he wouldn’t do anything like this.”

“What does that mean?” Nancy asks, her voice low but filled with concern.

Steve shakes his head. “We can’t show Eddie this.”

“Can’t show me what?” Eddie closes the door behind him and descends the stairs toward them. 

Steve locks the screen and shoves the phone back at Robin. He feels the need to both prevent Eddie from seeing it and prepare him for the inevitable. Who is he kidding? It’s a wonder he doesn’t already know.

“Show me what, Steve?”

Steve holds his hands up like he is waiting for a pass. “You don’t have to look at it Eds. Tommy is just angry and lashing out. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“What the fuck, Steve?” Robin hisses. “Of course it means something.”

Eddie looks between Steve and Robin, then holds out his hand. Robin unlocks her phone and passes it to Eddie. “No, don’t,” Steve says. But it’s too late.

Eddie’s face changes instantly, horror and shame and anger. “That homophobic little shit,” Eddie says through clenched teeth.

Steve wants to be the one to comfort him, but Robin and Nancy beat him to it. Nancy lowers the hand with the phone in it so he doesn’t look at it anymore. “Want us to kill that guy for you? Because we can totally kill that guy for you.”

Nancy glares at Robin, but says nothing. Eddie lets out a choked laugh. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”

Nancy says, “We can report it. Robin, flag it as inappropriate.” Robin takes the phone from Eddie and taps away at it.

“Eddie, I’m—” 

Steve starts, but he gets nowhere because Eddie turns on him. “It always comes back to you, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Steve asks.

“All the taunting freshman year, and when Tommy broke my hand. Then you show up telling me you can make me popular, get my band on the stage at Battle of the Bands.” He is pointing violently at Steve now; he steps back to avoid being stabbed by his finger, but Eddie follows.

“But that asshole was there, behind you, waiting for the moment to shame me all over again. And here it is.” He throws his hand back toward Robin and her phone. Nancy and Robin watch on, horrified looks on their faces. “If you weren’t around, Steve, none of this would happen. I wouldn’t be under the spotlight for Tommy to pick me apart all over again.”

Jeff and Gareth walk out of the house just then. They instantly pick up on Eddie’s anger and respond accordingly, walking toward them. 

“Eddie, I didn’t—”

“Why?” Eddie cries, his face dry but voice threatens angry tears. “What do you want Steve?”

Steve is shocked into silence. Things had been going so well tonight and in the span of three minutes, the night has turned into hell. He is in no way prepared for this. “I don’t want anything.” He stutters and corrects himself, “I want to make sure you are ok. I want to punch Tommy for doing that.”

“Stop,” Eddie says, gripping the sides of his head. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Why did you start being nice to me after over two years of silence and one of hell?”

Steve swallows hard, knowing the true answer to that question. But it’s not the one he wants to give, not just because it would crush Eddie in this moment. The bet may have been the spark to start him talking to Eddie, but everything since then has kept him around. What he wants is more of Eddie, his laughter, his friendship, his music, his antics. 

The words won’t come out. Eddie shakes his head and walks away, Jeff and Gareth changing course to follow him.

It takes Steve’s brain a moment to catch up, to step out towards Eddie to follow him, but Robin and Nancy are there to stop him. “Let him go,” Robin says, her hand on Steve’s shoulder.

“He needs time,” Nancy says, her arms wrapped around herself.

“I don’t understand what happened.”

Nancy tilts her head at Steve and makes a sympathetic noise. “Of course not, Steve. The hurt of that sort of post isn’t something you as a stra—”

Robin reaches out to silence Nancy. She responds with confusion but Robin mouths, I’ll tell you later. “I think you do understand, Steve. Put yourself in Eddie’s shoes. Imagine if Tommy had put your sexuality on the chopping block like that.” She says the last line slowly, like each individual word needs a moment to sink through Steve’s thick skull. Still, it doesn’t work.

 “Eddie brought me here,” he says as they watch Eddie disappear down the driveway. “Can you give me a ride home?”

Nancy nods her head and reaches her arm out to wrap around his middle. Robin does the same on the other side, her arm covering Nancy’s.

Steve’s mind is drying concrete. Each second that passes, it is harder to think, harder to comprehend what happened. Eddie’s words mix with Tommy’s from the post and there is a voice over of Robin’s words too, only they are all overlapping and Steve can’t make sense of any of it. Each word is a singular bee and together they form a swarm; Steve is swatting at them, trying to protect his face, trying to get away from them. Without knowing it, though, he is walking toward the edge of a precipice.

On the way home, Robin and Nancy try to talk him down. “This isn’t just a situation of normal, average bullying, Steve,” Robin said.

Steve doesn’t understand what she means. Sure, Tommy implied that Eddie was doing gay things but that doesn’t mean anything.

“It does.” Robin turns around in her seat and looks Steve in the eye. “You know, right?”

“Know what?” Steve asks. 

Nancy glances in the rearview mirror to catch Steve’s eye. “Eddie’s gay.”

Steve slips down in his seat as everything that Tommy says about Eddie re-contextualizes in his mind. Freshman year, when Tommy had cornered him in the hallway, drug Steve with him, he’d taunted Eddie by calling him gay boy. Steve assumed that it was just a way to shame him, to make him feel less than. “So, the post from tonight…that’s why he said Tommy was being homophobic.”

Robin nods her head eagerly. “Yes, exactly and so? What might Eddie have felt about it?”

“Like he was being attacked for something he…can’t control?” Robin and Nancy both make noises of agreement, urging him on. “So he is angry and hurt.”

“When you experience something homophobic like that, it crushes your soul, Steve,” Robin says. “You turn inward, against yourself and want to tear out that which makes you different. But you can’t and so each time you do something that is natural to you, then you begin to hate yourself. It takes forever to unlearn it.”

Nancy reaches across the car and takes Robin’s hand. They share a moment and communicate something with just a look. “It can be worse, or different I guess, when you think you are straight.” 

Nancy and Steve dated sophomore year. Steve always thought they were a good couple, up until Halloween and Nancy’s blow up. They were in the bathroom at a party and Nancy kept repeating, “This is bullshit,” over and over again. Steve hadn’t understood that night or when she broke up with him. But eventually, she was able to explain that she was interested in girls. Only. By that time, Steve already knew Robin, already knew she was a lesbian, so he took it in stride. Even introduced them, figuring that Robin could help Nancy somehow.

“What do you mean, Nance?” Steve asks.

Nancy sighs and returns her hand to the wheel as they enter Hawkins proper. “Because you never admit to yourself that you think you are attracted to someone you aren’t supposed to be attracted to. And then people will say something homophobic, something demeaning. Instantly you feel shame but you can’t place why. So while those that know early learn to hate themselves because they are queer, people who experience compulsory hetero-normativity learn to hate themself but never know why. Not until they come to terms with it.”

Robin reaches over and rubs Nancy’s shoulder. “And you’ve come so far, love.”

Steve sits quietly in the back of the car the rest of the way home. He doesn’t let himself think about what Nancy’s story makes him feel, brings up in him, until he gets home.

Robin walks him to the door when they get to his house. “Listen, Steve,” she says, grabs his upper arms. “I think it’s time you faced your past. I’m not gonna lie to you, you were an asshole. You did homophobic things.” Steve nods at this. He knows he did, not that he would’ve had the language to describe it as such at the time, and he’s been working to make it up ever since. “And some of those things were specifically to Eddie.”

“I know, Robin,” Steve whispers.

“You need to think about why that is, what motivated you to do that. Whatever you realize, if you didn’t know, I’ll be there for you.” Robin punches his arm, hard.

“Ow,” he says. He rubs the sore spot on his arm. “Thanks, Rob.”

Upstairs, in his room, he flops down on the bed and stairs at the ceiling, allowing his thoughts to go where they will. And where they go is a route of torture, a running movie of the night, of Eddie’s words, of the pain in his face. His brain fills in angles that he wouldn’t have seen from, adding in excruciating detail like the way Eddie’s lip may have trembled, how tears clung along the water line of his eyes, the way his hands shook as he held Robin’s phone. Somehow this torture feels good, feels right. He hurt Eddie, with his carelessness and thoughtlessness, his being unprepared for the harm Tommy would do. If he hurts now, like this, it is compensation for the harm he let happen to Eddie. Tonight and over the years.

He picks up his phone and opens the app for the Battle of the Bands voting. The first screen shows the current top 5, those that when the voting ends will play on the stage at the final show. Corroded Coffin is currently at number 5. He taps the tab for the voting, scrolls down to Corroded Coffin, and submits his vote. He voted yesterday, but today it doesn’t feel like success. It feels like pity.

With that accomplished, Steve’s eyes go back to the ceiling and his self-selected punishment. But as the minutes tick by, his brain shifts focus, to the conversation with the girls in the car. Nancy talked about feeling shame but not knowing why. Because of the way his dad raised him, Steve knows the feeling of shame intimately. That well is deep and filled mostly with the experiences of disappointing his father. To plumb those depths is more than he can do right now.

Robin told him to think about why he was a homophobic asshole. But all his memories go back to Tommy. It was always Tommy who said the hateful things and Steve who remained silent. The glare that Tommy would give him as he said those things, it was like he was challenging him…but Steve couldn’t say what he was challenging him to do. 

It reminds Steve of all the times Tommy challenged him, when it was just the two of them. The look was the same; eyes narrowed, brow lowered, no movement in his irises. The air between them is charged and magnetic, pulling him into the storm whether he wants it or not. Steve focuses on himself, the way Tommy made him feel in those moments. He recognizes the feeling. Its warmth, its possibility, the lightness and fizz like soda or Pop Rocks. He recognizes that feeling from being with Tommy. From his time with Nancy and some of the other girls he dated. He recognizes that feeling from one other place too.

He supposes that this is what Robin meant with her last words to him on the porch: “Whatever you realize, if you didn’t know, I’ll be there for you.” He didn’t know, not back then, not even as recently as this evening. But he does now.

Too bad, she didn’t tell him what to do next.

Chapter Text

Eddie drums his fingers against the wheel of his van. Dustin stares at him from the passenger seat, his hand on the door handle. “Are we going into school or…” Dustin let’s the sentence hang.

“Give me a minute,” Eddie growls. School is far more daunting than it normally is after his weekend. There is an image of him floating around the internet that might possibly turn him into an outcast…more of an outcast than he already is. A laughing stock. He hasn’t told Dustin, didn’t want him to know honestly. Not about being gay, all the kids know. Heck, Will is gay, Max and Mike are bi, and El fluctuates between being a lesbian and being pan, depending on the day. It’s the hatred, he doesn’t want to expose them to more of it than is already in the world. 

“Ok,” Eddie says, trying to psych himself up. “Ok, ok. Let’s go.”

Dustin pops out of the car without a care in the world. Eddie slams the door and follows behind him, popping his collar up around his head, hoping to hide from everyone. He pulls his shoulders up to his ears to do the same. 

As they near the school, the looks and pointing starts. Eddie can hear them whispering around him and feel their jeers scratching at his skin.
 
Inside the halls, it is that much harder to avoid it. A kid walks straight up to him, finger guns, and says, “You rock, dude.” But it feels sarcastic, a taunt.

At his locker, another kid offers their hand up for a high five. “Come on, man.” They shake their hand above Eddie’s head, trying to encourage him. When Eddie doesn’t give in, the kid drops their hand with a smile and says, “Well, I’m still voting for you anyway.” 

Gareth and Jeff show up then, vibrating with excitement. “Dude, we are in fourth place. Did you see?”

“I just got here,” Eddie grumbles, shoving his locker open. “And I’ve stayed offline all weekend. For obvious reasons.”

Jeff pushes Eddie’s shoulder. “Dude, you aren’t hearing us. What happened at the party, your guitar solos, is all anyone can talk about. No one is spreading Tommy’s post. It’s not even up anymore.”

Eddie pauses as he pulls a notebook from his locker. He isn’t sure that he’s heard Jeff right. “People aren’t spreading it?” he asks, unable to look away from his hand and the spiral of metal holding the papers together.

Gareth shakes their head. “I’ve even heard people talking about how fucked up it was. That Tommy is such an asshole.”

“They’re on your side, Eddie,” Jeff adds. “And we’re getting closer to making that stage.” He shakes Eddie by the shoulder, trying to break his focus and get him on their page. “Maybe letting Steve help is the right idea after all.”

That snaps Eddie out of his trance. “Did you just say?”

Jeff nods, but Gareth steps in. “Look Eddie, what happened on Saturday was fucked up. But, was it his fault?”

Eddie grits his teeth and shoves the notebook into his bag. “I can’t talk about that right now.” He slams his locker and walks off, leaving Jeff and Gareth behind.

First period is a blur, Eddie can’t focus on the teacher. All he can think about is not thinking about Saturday, what he said to Steve, the way white hot shame coursed through him. He was stupid to think that things would be different with Steve this time. Even worse that Eddie developed a crush on him and even toyed with the thought that Steve could feel the same.

Clearly he doesn’t. Steve couldn’t even understand why Eddie may be upset by the post and instead told him it didn’t have to be a big deal. He’s just a stupid jock, too thick to have empathy for others and their experiences. It would be easier for him if Eddie buried the memory.

But Jeff and Gareth were right about one thing: Eddie hasn’t heard a word about the post from anyone. Or not anything against him. A few students have expressed how upset they were for him, that they voted for Corroded Coffin at least once because of it. The success of their band partially coming from his humiliation isn’t comforting in the least.

“Good morning, Hawkins High. Here are your announcements for this Monday.” The start of second period brings another reminder of that connection. “Voting for the Battle of the Bands began over the weekend, with an average of of 800 of you voting a day. If you want to make sure your favorite band makes it to the final stage, download the app and vote today and tomorrow and the day after that. There’s still a week left to make your vote count.”

One of the other kids in his class turns around at this, points at Eddie and shouts, “Vote for Corroded Coffin!” He throws up the devil horns and sticks his tongue out. “Put Tommy Hagan in his place.”

A few of the other kids make noises of agreement and look at Eddie. He gives them a grimace-smile. Internally he is hoping that this will blow over before the end of the day and people will start voting for them because they are good.

Throughout the rest of the day, the pattern of the morning continues. People come up to him to say they voted for his band, some because of pity but not all of them. A group comes up to him as he is is leaving the bathroom during fourth period and wants to talk about his guitar playing from Saturday.

“You are a guitar god,” one guy says. Eddie thinks he is a junior and that they’ve maybe had a class together.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Eddie responds.

The girl scoffs. “Well if not a guitar god, you certainly showed Tommy who’s closer to that status.”

The two guys reach in front of the girl and high-five. Then, the second guy shakes his head and adds. “I hate that asshole. It’s about time someone knocked him down a few pegs.”

The group laughs. Eddie thanks them and skirts around them, needing to get back to class. The first guy, the one who he’s had class with, steps away with him, putting his hand on Eddie’s arm to speak quietly with him. “I also wanted to say, and maybe this is a little personal…” 

Eddie grits his teeth, not liking where this is going.

“But I was happy to see you with someone at the party. You aren’t my type,” the guy puts a hand against his chest, and Eddie groans internally. He’s never hidden his sexuality exactly, but he doesn’t announce it to the whole school. This is partially why; dumb comments from well meaning strangers. “But ever since we had that class together, I found it strange you never dated around the school.”

Eddie holds up his hand, needing to stop this now. “Just stop. I don’t know what you’re going on about and I don’t wanna know. I’ve gotta go.” He leaves the kid standing there and hurries away. 

At lunch, before joining the freshman and Jeff at their table, Eddie tells Gareth about it. “Yeah, I know the kid you’re talking about, stoner type.”

“Hey,” Eddie barks.

Gareth rolls their eyes. “I mean they make it their whole personality.” Eddie tilts his head in agreement. “But I also see where they are coming from.”

Eddie frowns. “What?”

“You and Steve were looking cozy, up until…”

Eddie shakes his hands in the air. “What are you talking about? That’s not even close to true.”

The corner of Gareth’s mouth pulls back. “You guys went off by yourselves, sat around talking. And the way Steve responded when Tommy came up.” Gareth lifts their eyebrows and purses their lips.

“That doesn’t mean anything. They have beef, that’s why he got, well, whatever it is you think you saw,” Eddie shakes his head, but god does his heart race at the possibility. That night he was too focused on Tommy, on his own fear, to pay any attention to Steve. And now he can’t see past the end of the night.

Gareth steps in front of Eddie, putting their hands on his shoulders to stop him. “Look, I know you are angry at him right now, but Jeff had a point this morning. Is not understanding why you were so hurt a crime? Is it really something you can’t get past?”

Eddie clenches his jaw and won’t look at them. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” they say, releasing his shoulders and crossing their arms, “is that you need to get over this. Steve didn’t cause what happened on Saturday.”

Eddie brushes his hair back over his shoulders to give himself time to think. “Why do you care?’ he grumbles. “We can get to the stage on our own talent.”

Gareth cracks a smile. “It’s not about the stage. Of course we can get there on our own.” Their face softens and Eddie knows he’s gonna hate what comes out of their mouth next. “I care because I want you to be happy and you’ve been happy the last few weeks hanging out with Steve.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, trying not to take in the truth of what they are saying. Gareth drops the conversation after that and they go to lunch. 

And he manages to not think about it the rest of the day, not directly at least. Though, his anger does lessen and lessen the more other students tell him they voted for him or they hate what Tommy did. In fact, a few times he finds himself thinking of Steve because of some small thing. Then he feels his heart clench in anguish, but less because of his hurt over the post and more because of what he said to Steve.

He may not understand exactly why Eddie was so upset, but had Eddie really explained it to him? Just because a guy has a lesbian couple as his best friends, doesn’t mean that he’ll automatically understand the pain of violent homophobia. He doesn’t know the intricacies of Eddie’s life and story. Why would he? How would he if Eddie has held back from him some of the harder stuff to talk about? 

Partially this is because Eddie went into this…friendship with ulterior motives. He wanted Steve to share parts of himself so that Eddie could use it against him later. That’s no basis to build anything on, let alone an understanding relationship of any kind.

Later, when he gets into bed, the house all quiet, he watches the video he took of Steve from their after game night walk. And then he watches it again. And again. After he loses count of the number of re-watches, something becomes clearer in his mind. Steve has regrets about who he’s been in high school, sees himself as an asshole jock, and Saturday night, Eddie basically told Steve that he is still that guy.

Suddenly, he’s no longer angry at Steve, but at himself. And Tommy, still him for sure. The Steve he thought he knew freshman year is nothing like the Steve he’s hung with the last few weeks. Like Gareth had said, not understanding something isn’t a crime, but being an asshole about it sure feels like one.

On Tuesday, Steve stands outside the front office looking at the screen that shows the current Battle of the Bands top five rankings. Corroded Coffin is still number four, though only a few short of overtaking the number three band. Below them in number five is a band called Unlicensed Fists. It is bittersweet seeing Corroded Coffin in the top five. Not because he doesn’t want them there, but because he can’t celebrate with them since he and Eddie still aren’t talking. Or, since Eddie won’t talk to him.

He heads to the cafeteria and his normal table with Nancy and Robin. Across the space, he spots Eddie, like he’s done every day since they started hanging out. It’s instinct now, but doing it causes him pain all over again. Maybe when Battle of the Bands is over, he’ll reach out to Eddie and apologize. At the moment, it’ll only distract him from his goal and Steve doesn’t want to get in the way.

He arrives at the table, ready to ask Nancy and Robin if they’ve heard anything from Eddie, maybe through the band or the freshman, but then Tommy shows up, followed by Jason and Billy flanking him. No one says hi to him, hoping that he will take the hint and leave. 

“Why so upset, Steve?” Tommy taunts, a sly smile slicing his face.

Steve clenches his jaw. “Don’t be stupid. You know what I’m upset about.”

Tommy taps his chin, pretending to think of what he could possibly have done. At this point, Robin can’t stand it and says, “The post. You humiliated, Eddie.”

“He humiliated me,” Tommy growls. “In front of half the school.”

Nancy says, “You did that to yourself too. You’re the one who challenged Eddie to the competition. You should’ve known he was more skilled than you.”

Steve nods in agreement. “In all the time I’ve known you, I never saw you pick up a guitar.”

“You don’t know everything about me,” Tommy retorts.

Steve holds up a hand. “Fine. Point is, this is your own doing. There was no reason to drag Eddie into this.”

Tommy looks over his shoulder at Jason and then Billy, sharing a meaningful look. “No reason?” He smirks and lifts an eyebrow, communicating to Steve that they both know what the reason is. “You’re the one that agreed, Steve.”

Robin and Nancy look at each other hoping the other will know what that means. Then, they glance at Steve wanting an explanation.

“And you agreed to knock it off,” Steve shoots back.

Tommy wags his finger. “Physically and verbally. Those were your words. A social media post with some drawings and typed words is hardly either of those.”

“What does he mean, Steve?” Nancy demands. 

Steve ignores her. “You dick.”

“It’s not my fault you left something out of your terms,” Tommy sneers. Billy and Jason laugh looming over their table. 

“Anyway,” Tommy continues, “we just came by to ask if you saw the Battle of the Bands results?”

“Why?” Robin asks. Steve is incapable of speaking, he is using all of his energy to stop himself from jumping on Tommy and punching him until his anger subsides.

“So you saw the band called Unlicensed Fists. Just thought you’d like to know,” Tommy turns his head side to side to indicate Billy and Jason, “that’s us.”

Billy leans against the table to get in Steve’s face. “And we are also in the top five with your beloved boy.”

“You aren’t the only one who can use social media to get votes,” Jason says.

Tommy smiles. “The game isn’t over, Stevie. It’s just begun.”

Robin stands and says, “He beat you on Saturday by himself, think about how much better he’ll be with the band behind him. You don’t stand a chance.”

When they walk away, Robin and Nancy turn on Steve. “What was that all about?” Robin asks.

“There was clearly some subtext to that conversation. Spill,” Nancy adds.

Steve sighs and hides his face in his hands. He was hoping that he could make it to the end of the year without ever having to explain this to either of them. Luckily their little display didn’t draw the attention of the rest of the cafeteria.

“Is this why you started hanging out with Eddie?” Nancy asks, her voice gentle like she is coaxing out a scared animal. Steve nods his head, still hiding his face.

“Is it something that is going to hurt Eddie if he finds out?” Robin asks. Again, Steve nods. She curses under her breath. “What did you do? You can’t hide from us, or him, forever.”

Steve removes his hands though the shame still sits heavy on his shoulders. “I made a bet with Tommy.”

Shock colors both of their faces, but neither says anything. Steve continues in the absence of their response. “At the time, I just wanted him to stop being an asshole. We’d just had that fight and I thought this was a way to do that. I told him I would do it if he agreed to stop picking on people.”

“Physically and verbally,” Nancy whispers. Steve folds his lips in and nods. “What was the bet?” she asks.

“Tommy would pick,” and here Steve stumbles, not wanting to say the words that Tommy used, not when he knows how it looks, how it characterized Eddie. “Tommy picked someone and I had to turn them popular so they could win the Battle of the Bands.”

“And he picked Eddie,” Robin states. “Of course he did.”

“Steve, what were you thinking?” Nancy admonishes.

Robin mumbles under her breath that he wasn’t thinking, but Steve decides to ignore that. “I thought that I could stop him like I’ve been trying to do for all these years.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “But you’ve never been successful in changing him. You’ve had him on a leash but behind your back he continues to be an asshole.”

Steve grits his teeth. “I am aware.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t let myself be before, but I know now.”

“So what are you going to tell Eddie?” Nancy asks, her eyes soft as she treads lightly around this sore spot. 

Steve’s eyes go wide. “Nothing. He can’t ever know this. It’ll crush him.”

Robin slaps the table. “Of course he’ll be crushed. You played with him like he’s nothing. And you’ve been stringing him along for all these weeks which only makes it worse.”

Nancy looks at Robin confused and Steve asks, “Stringing him along?”

“Come on, Steve, don’t be a dufus. Eddie likes you,” she widens her eyes to emphasize the kind of like she means. “And you’ve been letting him think that there’s a chance you do too.”

Steve frowns. “I’m not doing that.” His face heats realizing that this is what all the significant looks Robin has been giving him have meant. Not that she thought he was lying, but that she thought he was crushing on Eddie. And he was—he is—but that Robin knew before he did is embarrassing. 

Robin leans over the table to whisper-hiss at him. “So you’re saying that you feel something for him? Something like what he feels?”

Nancy puts her hand on Robin’s arm. “Robin, we can’t do that here, in the middle of the school. You can’t force him.”

Robin turns to Nancy. “He’s toying with Eddie in a specifically horrible way. If circumstances were different, I’d agree. But they aren’t.”

Steve keeps his eyes on the table top debating what to say. He wants to tell them, who else might understand his particular dilemma but Nancy? Who else would help him navigate it but Robin? Except he didn’t think it would be like this. He did this to himself.

Nancy turns to Steve. “Whatever you feel,” she says, her voice lower to avoid eavesdroppers, “you need to think about telling Eddie. If he hears it from someone else, it will be worse.”

Steve only half listens, trying to shove the words out of his mouth, the answer to Robin’s question. Finally, the fall from his lips. “I do.” It is quiet, unsure, but he says it.

It takes Nancy a second to understand, but Robin picks up on it right away. She exhales. “Ok. That changes some things Steve. But you’ve still gotta tell him.”

But he can’t. When this started, Eddie hated him for his part in the incident freshman year. Steve had worked since then to do better by everyone around him and that wasn’t enough for Eddie. Fair enough. It wasn’t until Eddie got to know Steve that things started to change. Steve thinks that Eddie has forgiven him for his part, something he never thought he’d get prior to this bet. 

But after what Eddie said Saturday night, Steve knows that he is still fearful. If he feels anything for Steve, like Robin claims he does, anything close to Steve’s former life will shut Eddie down for good. If he tells Eddie, he loses him for good. No romance. No friendship. Nothing.

“It’ll kill him,” Steve whispers. “He can’t ever know.”

Steve’s turned it over in his mind many times. The person he was prior to the bet wouldn’t have sought Eddie out, so he needed the bet to see Eddie for who he is. But he wouldn’t be at risk of losing him, hurting him if he never made the bet in the first place. There is no winning. 

Nancy leans back, not wanting to consider that option. Robin, however, gives Steve a sad look. “I don’t agree,” she says. “But how are you going to keep it from him? It’s a weapon in Tommy’s arsenal. He may not know it, but once he does he’ll absolutely use it.”

Steve slumps on the table. “I have no idea.”

Once he pulls up to work on Tuesday, Eddie has made a decision. Before he walks in, he pulls out his phone and opens it to his thread with Steve. The right words are ready in his mind, so he types them out and hits send before he changes his mind.

Eddie: I’m sorry for what I said on Saturday. I was upset and turned on you. That wasn’t ok, but I’m willing to talk about why that is so you can understand. If you’re willing to hear me out.

He heads inside, determined to keep his phone in his pocket so that he doesn’t check it every minute. But his heart and his head are both determined to cause him issues regardless. As he walks in, his heart is beating at double his normal rate. The fact that Suzette doesn’t mention the bulge threatening to burst out of his chest surprises him. And his head is running double time through every possible worst case scenario.

They make small talk until the kids walk in, though Eddie’s heart isn’t in it. He walks the kids up to the teen room, unlocking it before opening the door for them. They head straight for the TV and the game consoles, while Eddie walks to the back of the room where he sets his bag down on the table. His fingers automatically pull his phone from his pocket and click on the screen.

There are no messages.

This alone feels like an explosion in his chest cavity. He sets the phone face down on top of his bag and walks toward the freshman. “Is there an extra controller? I want in.”

The only way to avoid checking his phone is to give his hands something else to do. So for the entirety of two hours, he keeps a controller in his hands, challenging all of the freshman—with varying degrees of success—to beat him. 

It keeps his hands occupied, but not his mind. The screen of his brain flips between focus on the task at hand, and playing a reel of embarrassing moments and what-ifs and breathtaking moments of Steve. It takes everything he’s got not to break down right there, drive to Steve’s house, and beg his forgiveness. 

At 6pm, when the center closes and he’s organized the space and made it to his car, he finally checks his phone again. There is one message and he prays it isn’t Wayne sending him a funny meme he saw on Facebook. He opens the messenger app.

Steve: You don’t need to apologize. I’m in the wrong entirely. But if you’re willing, I’d listen to what you’d share so I can understand. I want to understand.

It was sent fifteen minutes ago. Eddie’s fingers hover over the keys trying to come up with the right response. He types and deletes a few versions, before deciding on one.

Eddie: Could we do this in person? 

Steve responds right away.

Steve: Good idea

Steve: when are you free?

Eddie: Thursday, after my shift at the rec so like 6:30

Steve: Cool

Eddie: You can come to my place

Eddie swallows as he sends this. It feels vulnerable, which is the point, but waiting for Steve to respond feels like falling through the void. He knows he is falling, but he can’t see the bottom. He’s just waiting for the inevitable splat.

Steve: Sure, send your address and I’ll be there

Eddie does and then throws his phone onto his bag in the passenger seat. When he makes it home, there isn’t a new message. But Steve has liked the message with his address. Now to make it through the next two days without backing out. He should probably straighten up his room.

Eddie is able to make it to Thursday, but the two hours of his shift at the rec center are excruciating. Not even playing games with the freshman or helping Will plan his first DM session makes the time pass any faster. Looking at the clock every minute isn’t helping either but Eddie can’t stop. 

He is both nervous and excited. Nervous because Steve is coming over to his house which is nothing compared to Steve’s, excepted it feels more lived in and welcoming. Steve sounded open to the conversation through text, but imagining it and having it are two separate things. He’s excited because Steve wants to talk, he wants to come over, and he doesn’t blame Eddie for Saturday. Maybe he can salvage this—whatever it is—yet. 

Finally he is on his way home. The volume on his radio is turned up high to scare off the nerves and keep his heart excited. He makes it home in record time and then has to sit in the living room intermittently looking at the clock on the wall and his phone, twisting his rings hoping that time would pass without torturing.

At 6:30 on the dot, Steve pulls up and parks next to Eddie’s van. Eddie watches him through the transparent curtains as he darts around his car and does a little skip-run up to the front door. He forces himself to stay seated until Steve knocks, not wanting to look like a dog waiting for his owner to come home. He vibrates with feeling regardless.

Steve knocks at the door and Eddie springs up to answer it. “Hey,” Eddie says, a shy smile on his face.

“Hey,” responds Steve.

“Come in.” Eddie steps back to let Steve walk into the space. He stands on a small bit of linoleum in the entry way that gives way to carpet in the living room area and goes back to linoleum within the confines of the kitchen. On the other side of that, it is carpet again until the off shoot of the bathroom. The varying degrees of tan and brown feels like they grab at the cleanliness of Steve’s shoes, but Eddie keeps himself from mentioning it.

Steve zeroes in immediately on the hats along the corner of the wall. He studies each one individually. “Most of those aren’t baseball teams. Were you fibbing about your uncle’s interest in baseball?”

Eddie joins him beneath the hats and shakes his head. “Most of these are from years ago. It didn’t start as a collection but then people started giving him hats and,” he gestures up at the hats to explain the rest.

“And the mugs?”

Eddie smiles. “Totally on purpose.” He walks over to them and starts pointing to his favorites, waiting for Steve to take in the joke or silly image emblazoned on the ceramic and plastic mugs. “Wayne has a strange sense of humor mixed with nostalgia. He won’t accept any mug, it’s gotta hit the right spot. He’s not picky with the hats, those are about the person giving him the hat. But the mugs are all for him.”

A wistful smile crosses Steve’s lips for a moment. In the handful of times he’s been at Steve’s house, Steve’s never shown him anything like this. The decoration there is only for show, hollow pieces that mean nothing to the people in the house—nothing to Steve who is the only regular haunter of those halls.

Eddie turns to the rest of the trailer and holds his hands out. “It’s not much but it’s home.”

Steve steps next to him and points down the hall to his bedroom. “Your room?” Eddie nods. “Well, I think you gotta show me. It’s only fair since you’ve been in mine.”

Eddie smirks. “I don’t know about that, Steve. Since I’ve been in yours, I gotta say that going into my room holds a bit more weight.”

Steve’s brow wrinkles and Eddie almost giggles at the genuine befuddlement there. He keeps it together to continue to make his point. “My room is fit to bursting with bits of me. Music and posters and bits and bobs. Your room is far more restrained. If I was gonna learn things about you from it, I’d need to be a detective and hunt out clues. My room is an open book.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He is far less dramatic than Max who ensures that you see the entirety of the whites of her eyes each time she rolls them. With Steve, it is more a shift of his eye to the upper right, it’s restrained in the ways that his room was. Like it wasn’t always welcome for him to feel things or be himself openly. It squeezes Eddie’s heart all the more when he combines it with his revelation about Steve thanks to his rewatching the video a million times.

But then Steve makes a move. “We’ll see about that.” He darts down the hall toward Eddie’s room. 

Eddie reacts too slow resigned to chasing him then colliding with him in the threshold of his room. “Not fair,” he laughs.

But Steve is wrapped up in taking in the whole room. His eyes dart from the little end table by the door to the top of his dresser covered in knick knacks to the posters on the wall to the towers and boxes and shelves full of music in a variety of forms. “Woah,” he exhales.

Eddie gently pushes him to the center of the room and moves behind him to sit on the bed. “Told you.”

“I feel like I’m in a wizard’s tower,” Steve says still using the hushed tones of awe.

“Thank you?” Eddie laughs again, unsure how to take it.

Steve chuckles and takes his eyes off the room to look at Eddie. “I guess I mean that I imagine there is a story or a history behind many of the things here. Which I guess I imagine to be the same for wizards, not that I think about them a lot.”

“No, no. That’s about right. And I do think about wizards a lot.” The smile Steve gives Eddie is one that says he is humoring Eddie and Eddie soaks it up.

Steve ambles over to Eddie’s bed and plops down next to him, there being no where else to sit but the floor. “Have you listened to all that music?”

“Of course.” Eddie is shocked. “What do you take me for?”

“Even the cassette tapes?”

Eddie leans in to Steve to point at a mustard yellow Walkman nestled behind a neat pile of clothes. “It’s the best way to do laundry for my money.” Eddie watches Steve’s face shift in amusement to acceptance. 

He’s watched Steve’s face plenty over the last few weeks, even the last few years, but rarely this close, this unhindered. He has three moles in a line off his smile on his right cheek. Eddie longs to trace them. From this angle, he can see another on his neck, a perfect spot for kissing. He catches himself before letting that thought go any farther. They haven’t even gotten to talk about the real reason they are here.

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong with my laundry routine, not enough music. You’ll have to recommend me some bands that go with folding.”

Eddie’s muscles tense like he is gonna stand and start pulling CDs and records and cassettes, but he stops before he lifts off the bed. “Let me get through botb first.”

Steve glances over his shoulder and lifts one corner of his lips, the side closest to Eddie causing the line of moles to shift.

Silences falls between them and Eddie itches to fill it, but he isn’t sure how. It feels selfish to start talking about things in his room if Steve doesn’t ask for the story. But broaching the topic of Saturday seems too heavy too soon. Except, Steve does it for him.

“Listen Eddie, about Saturday,” Steve stops to take a breath. His mouth trembles, an engine that won’t turn over and start. “I was a dick, a complete idiot. Robin and Nancy explained from the perspective of…from your perspective and like, I kinda get it.”

Eddie shifts on the bed so he is facing Steve, one leg bent up on the bed. “Dude, no. It was me. I was just so angry, completely blacked out from it. It’s all my bad.”

Steve turns his body toward Eddie and hangs his head, looking at Eddie’s shoe on the bed. His hands fiddle in his lap. He sighs. “Yeah, but…I think this has to do with what happened freshman year too.” He holds up his right hand, as though Eddie was unaware of what event Steve referred to. “And my part in it.”

Eddie’s posture slumps like he’s been punched in the gut. He certainly didn’t expect they’d be talking about this today. Words back up in his mind as he decides how to react.

“You probably don’t wanna talk about it, which is fine.” Steve chews on his lips some more. All it serves to do is draw Eddie’s attention once more to Steve’s lips and it’s not a great time for that because currently Eddie is unsure whether he should punch his mouth or kiss it. 

“But given Tommy and being his friend—” he adds air quotes around friend with his fingers lazily motioning in the air— “and all. I guess what I’m trying to say is that of course you lashed out at me. I was right there.”

At this moment, as Eddie vocalizes what he’s already said in his mind, he wants to grab Steve’s hand. That feels too forward, too obvious so he settles on tapping his knee to get his attention. “I’m over it. When it comes to you, at least.” Steve hardly glances up, but Eddie swears he sees Steve’s heartbeat picking up in rhythm with his own. “You’re nothing like Tommy, or the Steve I made up in my head.”

Steve gives him the half smile again but it’s full of understanding.

Eddie realizes that they are incredibly close, within what he deems kissing distance, and he backs up. So sure is he that Steve wants nothing of the sort. Steve, noticeably, doesn’t shift.

He breathes in, ending it in a shocked gasp, before breathing in deeper. “I think I forgot to breathe during that conversation.” He laughs and Eddie joins him, relieved the tension has loosened between them. “Are we done with emotional talks for the day? Maybe the week?”

Eddie decides to tease him. He puts on a solemn face and opens his mouth, like he is in shock or about to say something. “I didn’t want to say this before but…” The sentence hangs in the air and Steve’s face shifts between confusion to humor to fear that maybe Eddie is being serious.

The laugh jumps from his lips before he can stop it and relief washes over Steve. “Sorry dude, it was too easy,” Eddie says. “You’ll have to get used to it, I can’t be serious for too long or I combust. All heavy conversations come with their required jokes-in-poor-taste chasers.”

Steve shakes his head and looks away, unable to keep a fond tilt to his lips as he tries to frown. “That might be a step to far for me.”

Eddie playfully pushes Steve’s shoulder. “Come on. Guaranteed humor. What’s not to love?”

Steve returns the push with one of his own. Before Eddie can think, as though Steve were Gareth or Dustin—never Jeff as he is taller and has siblings so he knows how to wrestle and win—he grabs his other shoulder and attempts to push him onto the bed. Steve picks up the direction this is going and he clings to Eddie’s shoulder dragging him down. 

Eddie doesn’t think as he wrestles Steve, trying to outmaneuver and forestall Steve’s attempts to pin him. He feels an urgency and a fervor to beat Steve at something athletic. If it were basketball, there would be no competition, but Eddie is scrappy and thinks outside the box. He’d never hit below the belt, figuratively or literally, but he isn’t above sneaky moves.

Steve has Eddie’s back to the bed, their bodies close as Steve holds his arms down, counting as though he was about to win. But, fortunately for Eddie, his arms are pinned close to Steve’s sides and in such a way that he can reach, wiggle his fingers, and tickle Steve. Eddie will give Steve this, he tried to hold out against this bold move of Eddie’s. But he couldn’t last.

Any tension Steve held in his muscles to both pin Eddie, and maintain a “respectable” distance away from the gay boy to not make this situation mutually gay, disappears entirely. He collapses with his full weight onto Eddie. Chest to chest. Knees to knees. Hips to hips. And…no, he can’t think about it. Not if he doesn’t want something unfortunate to make it so this never happens again.

But Steve’s face is pressing into the space between his shoulder blade and head. And Eddie hasn’t stopped tickling; Steve is wiggling and writhing and breathing his warm breath against Eddie’s skin. He’ll be thinking about this for many nights to come. Like every other moment with Steve.

“Eddie,” Steve cries. It sends a violent electric zing down Eddie’s spine. One he so enjoys that he doubles his tickling. “Stop, stop,” Steve laughs. “I’m dying.”

“Dying laughing?” Eddie breathes from beneath all of Steve’s comforting weight. “What a way to go, Stevie.”

But he relents, slowing his fingers to only hold Steve’s sides. Hardly touching them less he be accused of something untoward. Steve lies there trying to catch his breath, lies on top of Eddie. Not moving off, not scurrying away like Eddie is poison ivy for being gay. He tries to stop it, but these little gestures fuel a fire in Eddie’s chest, a fire of hope that Steve could have an awakening. 

Eventually, to Eddie’s dismay, Steve rolls off him to lay on his back. They are close, arms touching, and Eddie chastises himself for noting every flame of warmth where their skin touches, every extra second the brush of contact lasts. It may be 202_, a century where gay marriage was legalized, drag queens have reality competitions on TV, and Marvel keeps claiming a new “first” gay character every blockbuster movie released but Eddie still lives in Midwest America where good ol’ boys reign supreme, lifted trucks mean you’re a real man, and washing your ass means you’re a faggot. An ostensibly straight boy engaging in the behavior of the last few moments is a risk, for both of them, and not for the reasons conservatives will have you believe. 

He slumps into silence, waiting for Steve to indicate, one way or the other, his feelings about the last few minutes. The longer he goes just catching his breath, the deeper the pit in Eddie’s stomach grows. Is he feeling a gay panic and about to turn on Eddie? Is he questioning his friendship with Eddie? Is it something as simple, but still terrifying, as Steve thinking Eddie is weird for tickling him?

Steve sits up like a zombie popping out of a grave, his back rigid, his muscles tense. Eddie sits up as well, still sitting close to Steve, wanting to provide comfort to what Steve might be feeling but also wanting to enjoy a few more minutes next to him before something bad happens. 

Steve considers Eddie, his face so close, close enough to touch. Eddie manages not to reach up and do it.

“The song you chose for the vid submission, what’s it about?” Steve’s voice is hardly above a whisper and about as sure as a breeze. 

Eddie is shocked and confused by the change in topic. Having expected the worse, he can’t wrap his head around the question. “Umm,” he stumbles, trying for the life of him to remember the song title, let alone a lyric or the meaning. Steve’s lips are right there, a little shiny from his tongue slipping out to lick them, and they look so so soft. 

“Eddie,” Steve prompts, his name so sweet on Steve’s lips. 

“Umm,” he continues struggling but the words are appearing like out of a mist. “It’s about being on the outside of society…for one reason or another. It’s about hating it, hating yourself for being different when maybe you could be like them but you aren’t. Thinking that you could choose differently.”

Steve licks his lips again and seems to loom large in Eddie’s vision. He pauses, trying not to let his mind lead him astray, to not let his eyes spur him to do something stupid like kiss Steve fucking Harrington.

“It’s about turning around and choosing to embrace those parts of yourself because you realize that hating yourself won’t make them love you, or even like you. But embracing yourself will lead to you loving you, you being happier and healthier. And in the end, your responsibility is to yourself and not those other people.”

It happens in a blink. Before Eddie can get the final syllable of people off his lips. Before he can study Steve’s face for the reaction to his explanation. Steve moves in, hands on Eddie’s neck, thumbs by his ears, and lips on his lips. Eddie breathes in—from shock or excitement or fear he can’t tell—but doesn’t hesitate a moment longer to give in to Steve’s warmth. He wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and back and pulls him in close, chest to chest. He swears he feels the staccato rhythm of Steve’s heartbeat match up with his own. 

Eddie can’t deny it in that moment: Steve wants this. The way he moves his lips and his arms cling. Eddie may not have kissed many boys, but he knows what it looks like to want someone. He knows that bottomless well of desire and hope and daydreams that fuel all of it. He moans and Steve slips his tongue into Eddie’s mouth. The intimacy and vulnerability of this moment sends Eddie's head to the moon and a jolt to his heart.

In this second, Eddie can’t think of anything clearly. There is no thought of Steve being a super-straight popular jock. There is no thought of the doubt and fear. There is no thought of their friends or the Battle of the Bands or Tommy and their history together. There is no thought of the consequences beyond the furthering of their lips and skin and insides getting closer and closer together.

Eddie finally breaks them apart, gasping for breath and his heart beats his lungs out for space in his chest. “Woah,” he huffs between inhales and exhales. 

“I…” Steve falters, licking his damn lips again. “I’ve been wanting to do that for days. Weeks maybe.”

Eddie’s eyes bulge out of his skull. Days? Weeks? “What?” he barks. “How?”

Then, he scoffs. “Why?”

Steve runs his fingertips along the side of Eddie’s face before brushing Eddie’s hair back over his shoulder. His voice is low and firm as he shakes his head. “Eddie, how don’t you know?”

His mouth still hangs open, unsure how to explain what is so obvious to himself. Steve isn’t this thick, he can’t have ignored the obvious differences between them of social standing, status, circles, and so many other things. His lips and jaw moves, but nothing comes out.

Steve grips the side of his neck and shakes Eddie back and forth. Then, he leans in and places their foreheads together. They breathe in and out as one, together, in sync. Reality sets in around Eddie and the pit in his stomach returns when Steve pulls back. Eddie hears a subtle vibration, like a phone is on top of a thick cloth. Or the carpet.

Steve turns and finds his phone on the floor a foot back from the bed. With his back hunched and turned to Eddie, Steve opens his phone and taps away at it for a moment. Just long enough for Eddie’s fear to rear up and drag him down. “Steve?”

“Uh,” Steve stutters, still clicking through his phone before shutting it and standing up. He slides his phone into his back pocket and faces Eddie. “It’s Robin and Nancy.”

“Are they afraid I’m going to bite you or something?” Eddie tries for humor but it feels false, even his own laugh sounds empty. From the look that crosses Steve face, he feels it too.

His eyes stop everywhere but on Eddie, so different from moments before when Steve could do nothing more than drink Eddie in. His face, his taste, his scent, his feel. Now, they land on his bedspread, the blank slips of wall, the curtains. “Uh, they just had a question.”

“Oh, ok. Do you need to call them?”

Steve shakes his head. “I think…I mean, they need me to come over. It’s urgent. They need help with…” His sentence peters out, the echo of his words bouncing around the empty pit of Eddie’s stomach, cascading more fear throughout his body.

Eddie gestures for him to continue.

“Something about student council and the school news station,” Steve spits out like hot food. “I don’t mean to dip out on you, but, you know, it’s Robin—”

“I get it,” says Eddie. He doesn’t mention—though he does note—that Steve doesn’t mention running out on him after kissing him. Almost like he can’t think of it, can’t mention it, can’t handle the fact that he did it. Initiated it. “I’ll walk you out.”

Steve shakes his hands. “No, no.” The speed with which he jumps to stop Eddie sits wrong. It feels like rejection and so close after being pulled in and accepted. “I’m good, I’ve gotta go. I don’t want to disturb you any more.”

Before Eddie can stop him and assuage the idea that Steve was bothering him, the man is gone. The storm door clangs multiple times caught in the wake left by Steve’s vehicle speeding off. Away from Eddie and the gay experience they just shared.

“So I need some advice.”

Eddie is sitting on Dustin’s bed the Saturday after the kiss he shared with Steve. Dustin is at his desk, microscope glasses on his eyes as he puts together a small, intricate, and detailed figurine from DnD. His back is to Eddie as he hunches over it and a bright lamp shines over him and his desktop.

“From me? That seems impossible. You know everything.”

Eddie gives Dustin some side-eye, not that he notices. “It’s in an area I know very little about.” He laughs. “Actually, you probably know even less, but the topic is irrelevant. It’s the people involved, that you know, that I want some perspective about.”

“Okay.” Dustin draws out the vowels like they are Laffy Taffy. He turns to face Eddie, the glasses still over his eyes making them comically large. But Eddie is so stressed that he can’t even laugh. 

Dustin pulls them off and sets them on his desk. He resettles himself in his rolly desk chair, trying to look as though he is a wise older man. Then, he gestures at Eddie gallantly, to continue.

“It’s about Steve.”

Dustin returns to his fourteen year old self and shakes off the fake wisdom to grip the arm rests and lean forward. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Eddie shakes his head and laughs. “No, nothing like that.”

“Oh thank god.” Dustin sits back. The relief that washes over him doesn’t seem to be for Eddie’s safety so much as the safety of Dustin’s idea of Steve. ‘“What is it then?”

Eddie rubs his hands up and down his face, not capable of telling Dustin this…embarrassing bit of information. “I have a crush…on him.”

“Him who?”

Eddie widens his eyes at Dustin and makes a vague gesture with his hand. How could he make it any clearer? Why does he always have to be the one to spell things out? “Steve, you dingus!”

“Oh,” says Dustin, his voice chipper and silly. Then it sinks in, his face weighing down with the realization. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“But he’s—”

“I know. Except—”

“Except?”

“Well something happened on Thursday.”

Dustin jumped up, arms akimbo as he clings to his head, fingers tangled in his curls and pulling. “This can’t be happening.”

“I know— wait, what do you mean?” Eddie leans over and rests on hand on his knee, leaning his weight on it.

Dustin rolls his whole head, the dramatic brat. “My best friend and my other best friend. This can only end in disaster.”

“I’m your best friend?”

“And Steve.”

“How are we your best friends? What about Lucas? And Mike and Will?” Eddie swears, sometimes Dustin makes so little sense. 

“Those dweebs. They hang out with me, not the other way around.”

Eddie stands, steps to Dustin and puts him in a headlock. His knuckles find Dustin’s crown and he gives him a noogie. “Don’t be a dick to your friends to be dramatic with me.”

“Uncle, uncle,” Dustin cries.

Eddie releases him but stares him down. “Got it?”

Dustin rubs his neck and his scalp at the same time, still using way too much drama. “Yeah, yeah.” He sits down, his body looser. “Ok, tell me what’s going on.”

Eddie sits back on the bed and folds his hands in his lap to play with his rings on his fingers. “Well, you know we’ve been hanging out. Becoming friendly.” Dustin listens intently, nodding and tilting his head when appropriate. “Well, and I thought it was just this, the friendship got close quick. I learned he was nothing like who I thought he was. I saw a completely different side to him and it’s that Steve—”

He grits his teeth and squeezes him hands into fists. The words are too large to say all at once. Letting out each one is pulling teeth. No. It’s like his jaw has to unhinge to release it, like a snake. An inhuman animal for a human feeling. Except it is Steve and he is Eddie.

“In that light, I saw Steve as…attractive. Beautiful even. Without any intention, I started to get a—” his voice dips to a whisper— “a crush on him.”

Dustin leans in, rolling his chair closer to Eddie to hear him properly. “What happened Thursday?”

Eddie swallows, remembering the nectar of Steve’s mouth and how he may never taste it again. “He kissed me.” Dustin mouths woah. Eddie nods. “And it was a kiss, not a peck, with like groping and moaning and tongue.”

Dustin brings his hands to cover his ears and his eyes squeeze shut. He yells, “I don’t want the details. It would be like my mom kissing someone.”

“Like your dad,” Eddie deadpans.

“There is no such man. I was immaculately conceived,” Dustin shoots back.

“Whatever.” Diving into that comment would take years and way more degrees than Eddie will ever hold. He isn’t here to convince the kid to tap down his ego so he continues his story. “My point is, this wasn’t a mistake. Steve didn’t trip and have his lips land on mine accidentally. This was on purpose. He kissed me on purpose.”

Dustin takes a second to process this, much like Eddie needed multiple days. It’s not like he’s fully processed it still, just that he needs to add outside perspective to stir up his thoughts before they settle. “So now what?”

“That’s just it. He up and ran away like a second later and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Is he avoiding you? Because I will have words with—”

Eddie holds up his hands to stop Dustin. “Focus. I need to know if…” His voice trails off, unsure how to express what he knows in his gut.

“If Steve is gay?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I couldn’t care less about labels.”

Dustin nods and brings his fingers up to his lip to play with as he thinks. After a minute, he asks, “If it was out of curiosity or a real choice?”

Eddie points at him slowly, his finger rocking back and forth loosely at his wrist. “Nail on the head.”

“You want my thoughts?” Eddie nods, unable to vocalize as his muscles shake from having expressed the question already. Dustin looks Eddie in the eye. “I’ve seen the way he watches you. I think it was a choice.”

Eddie frowns, his brows pinching together. “Then why did he run away?”

Dustin lifts his shoulders in a shrug before giving Steve a gummy smile. “I’m only fourteen, I don’t have experience in relationships.”

“What about that Suzy girl? From camp? What would you do for her in this situation?”

Dustin taps his chin and spins the chair, thinking. It makes Eddie dizzy to watch him, and frustrated too because he wants an answer. He wants to stop worrying, to know for sure and stop the anguish of wondering. He wants to feel Steve’s lips against his own again and be sure of them.

“You’ve gotta do something, take the next step. Ask him on a date, something chill and maybe not in public in case he is nervous about,” Dustin waves his hand around to fill in what he isn’t saying. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, the idea sinking in and sprouting new ones. It could be as simple as a movie at home. His place or Steve’s, it didn’t really matter. Just something to get them alone together, to maybe talk about the kiss and their feelings with the movie to buffer the silences. “I think I can do that.”

Dustin stands and pats Eddie on the shoulder. “Well, what are you waiting for? Text him.”

From down the hall comes Ms. Henderson’s voice. “Boys, dinner is ready!”

Eddie says, “I can’t text him. I’ve gotta do it in person.” He’d have to wait until tomorrow at school, but he’d try to see Steve first, make sure things are all right between them. That would give him a feel for what Steve is thinking, a chance to decide if asking him on a date is a good idea. 

But the talk with Dustin gives him a sense of hope. And of course, Ms. Henderson’s cooking fills him up and gives him a radiating warmth, coming mostly from his belly. He leaves the Henderson’s that night feeling light. The band is going to make it to the stage, being in the third position last time he checked. He’ll figure out this business with Steve, maybe even kiss him some more. He’d already forgiven Steve, had thrown out the idea of humiliating him sometime after that. 

Eddie had never expected it, but it looks like senior year is going to be his year.

Chapter Text

Today is the day that the school announces which bands are going to play on the stage at the Battle of the Bands and while Steve is excited, his mind is more focused on Eddie. For one reason or another, he didn’t see Eddie yesterday and they didn’t talk at all through text over the weekend. Steve isn’t sure why, but he didn’t want to reach out that way. It seemed heartless to have run away last time and then to reach out by text. It sends the wrong message, a message that says I want to stay friends and forget about the kiss. That’s not the message he wants to send.

This isn’t to say that Steve is jumping out of the closet with a rainbow flag, a fully formed and confident queer. There was panicking—a lot of panicking—both silently by himself and out loud to Robin. He specifically asked only Robin to come over, Steve couldn’t face explaining all of this to Nancy, his ex-girlfriend and former sex partner. It felt too… Well whatever it was, he couldn’t manage it.

But through all of that, the driving thread was the kiss—THE KISS—and how much Steve didn’t regret it, how much he enjoyed it, how much he wanted to do it again. 

At one point Robin groaned at him, “You can’t keep talking about how good the kiss was Steve while you are denying the possibility of being gay! Or bi!” 

Eventually, Steve realized she had a point and started to at least admit he is attracted to Eddie. It took another hour or so to realize that what he is feeling for Eddie isn’t unique.That he may have been attracted to other boys. That he may have been attracted to Tommy, for instance.

That set them off on a rabbit trail because liking Tommy brought Steve’s motivation for taking the bet in the first place into question. What did it say about Steve that he worked so hard to change him? What did it say about Steve that he let Tommy drag him into situations against his better judgment? If it weren’t for the potential of Eddie, Steve would want to linger on thoughts of Tommy, the ease with which Tommy bestows touches, how close he stands when he wants to prove a point, their mutual belief that it would always be them together.

His plan is to put himself in a position to congratulate Eddie, and Corroded Coffin, right after they are announced to the final stage. The excitement of that win will put Eddie in a good mood, he’ll forget that Steve ran away and that they haven’t talked. It’ll smooth things over and then they can talk and Steve can step close to Eddie, breathe him in and feel the warmth of his skin. That’s all he wants but maybe, if he is lucky, Eddie will smile. In his wildest dreams they kiss.

At the start of sixth period, the students make their way to the auditorium for the final announcements of the Battle of the Bands line up. Since noon yesterday all the graphs of the top five were removed from the app and the board outside of the office, to get more votes and keep the top five a surprise. In the hallway to the auditorium, Steve can hear loud music, and inside it is even louder. The students that are already there are talking loudly and the music pumps out from speakers around the stage. There are too many people there for Steve to find Eddie, but Nancy texts him to come to the door on the left side of the stage to get backstage. 

Before long, the music and technology teachers who run this event walk on stage, to applause, to make their announcements. The first few minutes of their spiel is thank yous and announcements, things that Steve doesn’t care about. Instead of listening, he paces the floor in the wings, while Robin watches and Nancy pays attention to the stage. Eventually, they get to the part that matters, and Steve stops pacing to stand behind the girls.

“The band in 5th position,” Mr. Callahan says, smiling into the mic, “and the first to play, is Licking Toads.” A small contingent of the crowd stands and whoops, but the rest only give a polite clap. From deep in the auditorium, a group makes their way to the stage. Miss. Clarke shakes their hands and gives them a sheet of paper when they arrive on stage. Steve and the girls squeeze against the wall to let the band pass; Miss Tanner’s eyes linger on them, trying to decide if she wants to fight that battle. 

Once they leave the stage, the audience calms down and the fans return to their seats, Miss. Clarke leans into the mic. “In the fourth spot, and the second to go on Saturday is.” She pauses dramatically and checks the paper in her hands. “Ashley and the Wiz.”

Three kids from near the front jump up with a shout and run toward the stage. The crowd cheers, but no fans stand out, this group potentially having appeal across the student body.

Mr. Callahan returns to the mic. “Number three all around is Unlicensed Fists.” The crowd explodes, some in excitement and others in anger. The boos seem to outweigh the cheers to Steve’s ears, but Tommy, Jason, and Billy exit the seats and walk to the stage. Mr. Callahan speaks into the microphone. “Settle down, please. The votes have been counted and these are the results.” He hands the band their paper and ushers them off stage quickly.

As they pass Steve, Nancy, and Robin, Jason sneers. Billy puts up the devil horns and sticks his tongue out, but Tommy lingers. He stares them all down, watching Steve the longest, before scoffing and walking backstage.

Miss. Clarke waits for the boos to die down. Steve by this point is close to throwing up. Last he saw, Corroded Coffin was in the top five. Momentum had been on their side and he still heard positive things about the band from others in his classes. But with only two spots left, fear is starting to set in. “Well,” she says with a sigh. “Let’s continue. The second most popular band, according to your votes, is Charlie’s Kiss.”

This causes a positive uproar in the crowd. Large chunks stand and shout, and those who are sitting are cheering loudly as well. The girls in the band wave and high five people in the crowd as they move down the walkway. 

There is only one spot left. Sweat builds on Steve’s forehead, his breath comes hard and fast. He scans the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of Eddie, to broadcast that he still believes in his chances and that he’ll still be there if they don’t make it. But there are too many faces to pick out one he knows.

Mr. Callahan taps his hands over the crowd to quiet them down. “All right, all right. We still have one more to go.”

“And this would be a good time to talk about our sponsors at Blue Apron.” Miss Clarke laughs and looks to her partner, who kindly gives her a chuckle. But the students remain quiet. “I’m joking,” she says after a minute. “Just trying to build the tension.”

Mr. Callahan pats her shoulder conciliatory. He leans into her to say, though the mic picks it up, “We are still funny, they just don’t get it.”

Someone in the crowd heckles at this with a loud scoff. The laughter spreads like a little wave through the crowd before settling again.

Mr. Callahan clears his throat and says into the microphone, “Your number one voted band.”

“And the head liner this Saturday at the Battle of the Bands is,” Miss. Clarke chimes in cheerily.

Steve holds his breath. Robin reaches back and grabs his hand, squeezing it hard.

The presenters look at each other, smile, and say together, “Corroded Coffin.”

The scream that Steve lets loose surprises not only him, not only Nancy and Robin, but the teachers on the stage too. They jump and look to the wing as the audience explodes once more in cheers, the loudest yet. Steve and Robin jump up and down, spinning in circles, still screaming. Steve’s heart is in his throat and hammering away. That is, until from the corner of his eye, he sees movement down the far side of the auditorium: it’s Eddie, making his way to the stage.

Jeff and Gareth must come up from the other side because they meet at the microphone stand to shake hands with Mr. Callahan and Miss. Clarke. Steve studies Eddie, waiting for him to glance to the wings, and he does as Miss. Clarke releases his hand. 

Eddie’s smile is genuine and unrestrained. It pulls at the corners of his eyes and pushes his ears back and shows all his teeth. Something is Steve’s chest releases and he feels he can breath deeply again. Eddie welcomes him into the joy of the moment, he doesn’t hate him, he isn’t afraid. As the band makes their way to the wings, Nancy and Robin push Steve further back stage, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Eddie. 

When Eddie makes it to him, Steve buzzes with excitement, but all he can manage to do is squeeze Eddie’s arm and say. “You did it.” It feels lame and empty but there is so much hope in his heart that he’ll have more time to tell Eddie so many things that he doesn’t feel bad for his loss of eloquence.

Eddie nods. “Thanks to you.”

Around them, the bands are chattering away, congratulating each other and planning for what’s to come. In the auditorium, the students are released and a cacophony of sound adds to the drone backstage. 

Mr. Callahan and Miss. Clarke walk off stage and she announces, “Get back to class. Just because you made the stage, doesn’t mean you are excused from your responsibilities.” But they leave, not planning to strictly enforce that standard. 

Steve wants to grab Eddie’s hand and pull him away, somewhere quiet and out of the way so they won’t be bothered. He wants to revel in this win, not because of the bet, but because of the way Eddie glows with victory. He wants this to be the moment that he tells Eddie, that he steps into this new version of himself.

Except that’s when Tommy and his goons force their way into the group with sneers on their faces.

“This isn’t over,” Billy says pointing directly at Eddie. Jason covers one fist with his hand and cracks his knuckles in a stereotypically mean-guy move that still manages to work. 

But Tommy’s eyes flit between Steve and Eddie, landing on the lack of distance between them, the flush in Steve’s cheeks, and some unseen thing that Steve fears is obvious to Tommy. “Well, if it’s not the happy couple,” he snipes. “Planning on celebrating?”

“What do you want?” Steve asks, trying to keep his cool but feeling like a volcano seconds away from blowing his top.

Tommy steps up to Steve so they are almost chest to chest. It is so much like how they used to be that Steve gasps. The way his heart speeds up, the waft of Tommy’s cologne, it feels like years of wanting, of being hungry but never knowing he could have it. Steve tamps down his emotions; there is time for reflection later, once he gets rid of Tommy and his dogs. “I just thought that Eddie might want to know—”

“Stop,” Steve growls, shoving a hand into Tommy’s shoulder.

But it doesn’t deter him. “I’m guessing Steve hasn’t told you about our little agreement.”

Nancy gasps and Robin grumbles, “Get out of here. No one wants to talk to you or listen to your mind games.”

Eddie doesn’t look at Tommy, just leans into Steve and whispers, “What’s he talking about?”

Eddie’s words grip Steve by the spine and his whole body goes numb. Everything he’s feared as he’s grown closer to Eddie is colliding in front of him like a car crash and he can do nothing to stop it. He says, “Nothing,” as Tommy says, “Oh you’ll want to know this.”

“What’s he on about, man?” Jeff mumbles from the outside of the group, having been shoved aside when Tommy and his boys burst in.

“Oh just that Steve and I made a gentleman’s wager about the freak here.” Tommy is speaking about Eddie but he glares at Steve, his jaw wrenching tighter and tighter with each word, the anger building.

“Shut up,” Eddie barks. But Steve is speechless. He isn’t prepared for this, he hasn’t gone over the potential outcomes, things he could say in response to any number of things that Tommy could say. All his words are trying to escape out his throat and jamming up at the exit. Instead, he stares dumbfounded as Tommy tears through his world.

“We bet that he could take the biggest loser at this school—” his words are slow and sticky like molasses “and turn him popular—”

“Shut up,” Eddie says.

“—so they could win the Battle of the Bands.” It’s a dream, Steve tells himself, that’s why he can’t move, why his limbs are heavy and unresponsive. “We sure did pick the right guy.”

Steve’s insides are melting and rioting each time Tommy says we, because yes he was there, but that conveys agency on him when really all he was trying to do was stop Tommy. It’s not like it was his idea, it’s not like he chose Eddie. He was a stick on the river of Tommy’s whims.

Finally, Tommy stops staring at Steve to see the reaction of his words on Eddie. He’s moved away from Steve, the heat of his body is gone from Steve’s back. He can’t turn to look, it feels too difficult. Right now, all he can do is stand in Tommy’s way. Steve can’t protect Eddie from his choice, but he can stop Tommy from physically hurting him. 

“I may be an asshole,” Tommy says, “but I’m not a liar.”

“Get out of here,” Steve is finally able to get out. It must sound intimidating because Tommy moves back and shakes his head. They walk away but only far enough so that they can still watch what unfolds.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice isn’t shaky, but Steve can hear the desperation in it. He wants to believe Steve didn’t do this, wouldn’t do this. It only makes Steve feel worse because the truth is he did do it.

Steve shifts to face Eddie, but doesn’t lift his head to meet his gaze. Maybe he is a coward, but he can’t watch Eddie’s happiness leach from his face.

That must be answer enough for Eddie. “What the fuck,” Eddie says, not asking. “You were supposed to be different.” His voice rises and wobbles, threatening to give way to some emotion, anger or sadness or crushing apathy.

“It’s not like that,” Steve says in a half-hearted defense that he doesn’t deserve.

Gareth and Jeff step in front of Eddie, blocking the little view that Steve had. “Don’t,” Jeff says. Gareth tries to usher Eddie out the door and away from this disaster, but Eddie stands firm.

Steve can feel Eddie’s eyes boring into him, trying to find some reason, some excuse, something to justify what he now knows to be true. “You are just some asshole jock after all.”

They must walk away at some point along with everyone else, because when Steve finally looks up, only Nancy and Robin are left. Their faces are grim but they seem to say they thought this would go much worse. Except what they don’t know is that what Eddie said is the worst thing he could’ve said. Sure they know his insecurities, Robin more than most, but he doesn’t tell them directly. Not like he did Eddie.

Look where that got him.

Steve doesn’t go back to class. He doesn’t hang around to let Robin and Nancy try to comfort him and lie about how he isn’t the worst person alive for what he did to Eddie. Instead, he hops in his car and drives. At first, he doesn’t think, doesn’t make conscious choices as he turns his wheel and presses on the gas. Soon though he is in the tree tunnel on the outskirts of town. He could head for his house, instead he turns off onto a nameless, disheveled road and bumps down the uneven dirt until the road ends. Then he gets out of his car and walks on the overgrown path, one that he knows well, to Skull Rock. 

It seems an odd place to go given that he just fucked up the closest chance he had to a relationship since Nancy, but despite the reputation he gave it, this place lets him think. The walk there allows him to collect all the thoughts that float around him and sitting on the top of the rock, looking at the forest around him, lets him put the pieces together. The making out with willing girls was such a small part of his time here but the only one that involved others who could spread stories about it. 

Eddie’s face taunts and haunts him as he trips along the rocky path and untangles himself from the weeds that tug at his jeans. But what he can’t let go of is the glee on Tommy’s face once he stepped away. He’d armed the bomb and watched the mayhem after. It reminded him of the day of the bet, the gleeful smirk on Tommy’s face when Steve wouldn’t give in to his taunts. Had Tommy planned for this ending all along?

If Steve could control this, he’d give himself the time he needs to process the fall out with Eddie, give himself the time he needs to untangle his feelings for Tommy before confronting him, but he doesn’t have that privilege. Instead, he tugs his phone from his pocket and sends a text to Tommy.

Steve: I need to talk to you. Now. Skull rock.

Tommy doesn’t reply, but it takes fifteen minutes to drive to Skull Rock from school. Twenty minutes with the time it takes to get out of school. And Tommy is there in seventeen. Steve adds it to his pile of pieces of evidence to consider.

Tommy walks into the clearing like Steve will be happy to see him, his arms held out and a genuine smile on his face. “My king,” he barks as Steve turns to him. Tommy places a hand over his heart. “I came when called.”

It takes everything in Steve to not charge him, slam his head into the dirt, and revel in the sound. Instead, Steve claws into the rock, the tips of his nails breaking against it, and searches for the words. “I guess you’re pretty proud of yourself. Your little plan came together perfectly.”

Tommy drops his arms and looks up at Steve, who is still sitting on top of the rock, with a bewildered look. “What do you mean?”

“You did this on purpose. All of this, from the bet to what happened backstage today. Don’t deny it.”

Tommy chews on that for a moment, scuffing his shoe in the dirt. “And so what if I did?” he finally breathes.

Steve jumps down from the rock to face Tommy, his anger tamped down for now. “What?”

Tommy steps closer and annunciates. “What if I did?” Their breath hits each others face, the tension cranked to 100, just like old times. “It’s not like you’ll do anything about it.” Tommy lifts a finger and presses slowly into Steve’s chest. It’s more of a caress than any other touch between them, and still it burns. 

It doesn’t work, not like Tommy wants it to, not like it has a thousand times in the past. Because Steve has seen the strings between him and Tommy for what they really are: hooks that he willingly bit into. “What did you think this was gonna do? Get me back? Have me come running into your arms?”

Tommy’s lips scrunch up like he wants to deny it. And maybe he does, but Steve isn’t turning away from it anymore. “Tell me what you wanted,” Steve forces through a tight jaw.

“You to feel it,” he bellows into Steve’s face. “What I felt when you turned your back on me.”

Steve could list all the ways that Tommy had let him down over the years, all the wounds he’d carried quietly, and how well he knows Tommy’s back. He could, but it’s not about him and Tommy anymore.

No. It’s about Eddie. 

Steve shakes his head, eyes still locked with Tommy’s. The electric pulse he felt with every close encounter with Tommy isn’t there anymore. Now he sees how mistaken he was thinking that was some form of love, even platonic. “Well, I guess you got what you wanted. I’m torn up. He may never forgive me.”

Tommy forces a laugh, hard as plastic. “Don’t tell me you care about the freak.”

“Why?” Steve places his hands on his hips and leans toward Tommy. “Would that ruin your victory lap?”

Tommy narrows his eyes and takes a step back. His demeanor changes from confident nonchalance to the tension of a fight. 

But Steve remains calm, though the anger flows beneath his skin. Fighting Tommy won’t get him closer to Eddie’s forgiveness and though it would relieve some of his anxiety, he can’t give in to it. He smiles. “Here’s the difference between you and me, always has been. I want to do the right thing.”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spits. 

But Steve barrels on. “I don’t always know what it is and I’ve made plenty of mistakes. I’ll make more, even. But I’m not going to give up after one mistake. I’m going to keep trying to be a good person. That’s what I wanted for you all these years and I’m just realizing, I was pouring into a cracked pot.”

Tommy lifts his fists into a protective stance, like anything in Steve’s posture suggests he’s going to hit him. Still, he feels threatened and scared so Steve knows his words are hitting their mark.

“I’m going to apologize to Eddie, when he lets me. And I’m going to learn from this, do better next time. I won’t make this mistake again.” Steve steps toward Tommy, keeping his arms down by his sides until the last moment. Then, he reaches up and pats Tommy’s cheek. “Enjoy your victory lap.”

Steve heads down the trail, a little clearer now that two have trampled the plants crisscrossing it. With each step, his burden feels lighter. There is still so much to make up for and the nerves are there, but the anger dissipates with each step away from Tommy, with each moment beyond his final words.

Behind him, Tommy stirs. “I’m not a cracked pot, Harrington,” he yells. One last attempt to hook Steve back.

Except Steve knows the truth. He is a cracked pot. He wears that chip on his shoulder like a medal and will fight anyone who calls it by any other name. He’s a cracked pot as sure as the sun rises in the east. 

But he doesn’t have to be. Not forever. 

Steve’s wanted a miracle cure all this time. Something to flip Tommy from who is he to someone different, someone better in the blink of an eye. But maybe it wasn’t about Tommy, maybe it was about Steve all this time. Maybe Steve is a cracked pot too. And maybe he is finally doing something to fix that.

Chapter Text

The next day Steve returns to school. He texts Eddie during first period.

Steve: Can we talk please?

Eddie doesn’t even read it. Steve can’t blame him but it hurts nonetheless. He holds off on texting again, wanting to have a better plan before trying again.

That lasts all of an hour and a half. During 3rd period, he pulls his phone out once more and opens his chat with Eddie.

Steve: I want to apologize in person, explain things

Steve: if you’ll let me

To focus on his class, he puts his phone away and doesn’t check it again until class gets out. It’s unlikely that Eddie will even look at it so why stress himself out checking it every two minutes. But as soon as the bell rings, Steve slides his hand into his pocket and pulls it out. 

Once again, Eddie hasn’t even opened them.

An hour later Steve hurries to the cafeteria and sits at his usual table—not even bothering to grab lunch—half waiting for Robin and Nancy to arrive and half watching for any sign of Eddie. He even sits on the opposite side he normally sits at for a better view of the entry and exit points.

Nancy and Robin sit down a few minutes later. Steve dodges left and right trying to see through their heads. Nancy checks over her shoulder and frowns at Steve. But Robin moves her head into his line of vision, pushing him to higher levels of frustration.

Finally, Steve snaps. “Stop doing that.”

Robin lifts her fork. “Doing what?”

“I’m trying to spot Eddie and you keep getting in my way.”

Robin shares a glance with Nancy, taking the bite off her fork once they come to some sort of agreement.

Nancy reaches across the table and pats the space in front of him. “He’s not going to want to talk to you. You’ve gotta give him time.”

“Stalking him won’t help.” Robin won’t look Steve in the eye as she says this, opting instead to circle her fork through the corn kernels on her tray. “Not after the massive blow up yesterday.”

“That wasn’t my fault.” Steve sighs and lays his head on the table.

Again, Nancy and Robin share a look. It involves more aggressive eye movements gesturing at Steve. Robin looks smug as Nancy turns to Steve. “I know you didn’t plan for what happened yesterday to happen but…” she trails off, unsure how to finish her thought. “Steve, you did agree to a bet with Tommy, a known nefarious ex-friend of yours. What did you think would happen?”

“Not this,” he grumbles into the table. 

Steve tries one more time to message Eddie during 7th period. He is still of the mind that texting the apology or explanation won’t work. He needs to see Eddie in person, so Eddie can see how sorry Steve truly is. It won’t translate properly through text.

Steve: I know I don’t deserve any of your time, but I’m asking to say I’m sorry

Steve: Afterwards you can ignore me until forever if you want

Nothing.

After school Steve goes directly home. Somehow, he makes his way to his bed but everything between the school and his room is a blur. He lays down, meaning to get up and do…something but he doesn’t move, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as the shadows move across it. Not, at least, until Robin appears in his doorway. 

“Still feeling sorry for yourself, dingus?”

Steve rolls his head to face her, frowns, and returns his gaze to the ceiling. “So what if I am?”

Robin strolls in and sits next to Steve on the bed, tapping him to the side so she can lay down on the bed as well. She settles herself next to him and folds her hands over her belly. “So,” she says, digging her shoulders into the mattress. “He hasn’t responded to your texts.”

She doesn’t ask it so much as state it. Steve hums his assent. “Didn’t even open them. Probably deleted them out right.” 

“And you are feeling sorry for yourself. Still.”

Once again, hitting the nail directly on the head. Not even preparing the nail for being hit. Rude. “I like to think I’m taking the time I need to mope so that I can take action when necessary.”

Robin snorts. “Yeah, ok. When you are ready to stop putzing around, I’m here to help.”

Steve stares at the ceiling. He faced Tommy and told him he was going to make things right with Eddie. It felt good to do it, but that doesn’t make the reality any easier. And with Eddie refusing to talk to him, apologizing is looking less and less likely. 

Robin lifts her hand and looks at her wrist, tapping the empty skin there. “It’s not that easy, Robin.”

She shoots up and glares down at Steve. “Of course it fucking isn’t you dufus. You done fucked up something awful. And now you’ve got to climb out of the hole you dug yourself.” She pats his leg, more forcefully than strictly necessary. “Lucky for you, I’m here to toss supplies down to you.”

Steve grumbles and tries to dig deeper into the mattress. “Just give me the rest of the night. I should get at least 24 hours of moping.”

Robin is off the bed and sitting in his chair wiggling his mouse around to wake up the computer. “The event happened before school even got out so technically your 24 hours are up. It’s time to stop feeling sorry for yourself so we can get your man back.”

“He’s not my man,” Steve moans.

“Not with that attitude, he’s not,” retorts Robin. “Now, I’ve got someone on the inside who can help us get you on that final stage to do your big declaration of love.”

Steve sits up and screams. “What? No. I’m not in love with him.”

Robin rolls her eyes at him over her shoulder and turns back to the computer. “Obviously. That’s just what it’s called in like all of the teenage romcoms for all of time. You are in charge of what you’re gonna say so don’t sweat the name.”

Steve crawls off the bed and stands behind Robin. “What are you doing?”

On the screen is an open doc that she’s titled The Get Steve Out of the Hole He’s Dug Himself into and Get Eddie Back Plan. “Nance says that good plans are written down and planned out, so I’m writing it down and planning it out. Step by step.”

“It’s a bit of a mouthful,” Steve says under his breath. That being said, seeing it laid out like that, all in one heading, is helping him feel a bit lighter, like maybe it is possible. “Wait.”

“Yeah?” Robin tweaks her head up toward Steve.

“Your inside person is Nancy, isn’t it?” Robin doesn’t answer, just types onto the keyboard with a smile: Step 1.

Eddie sits on the stool behind the drum set spinning a drumstick. Thoughts swirl through his brain. The high of making it to the final stage. The low of learning the truth about Steve. The question of what to do.

He’d taken the idea of embarrassing Steve off the table, confident that even if Steve didn’t feel anything for him, he felt something for Steve and that Steve didn’t deserve humiliation. Now he isn’t sure at all. Now he thinks Steve needs more humiliation than ever. Maybe something more. Something worse.

Eddie stops spinning the stick and taps out a beat on the crash cymbal, then the bass drum. It does nothing to soothe the ache in his chest, he switches to the hi-hat and brings the sticks down on the snare and floor tom. The beat bursts out of him like a tsunami, clashing and smashing so loud that it drowns the thoughts out. 

And calls his band mates to the garage.

“Eddie,” Jeff yells while Gareth comes over and grabs Eddie by the arms.

“What are you doing?” Eddie shouts, trying to fight off Gareth’s grip.

“What are you doing?” Jeff counters.

Eddie stands and shakes Gareth off. He drops the drumsticks and stomps out from behind the kit. “What does it look like? I’m drumming.”

Gareth and Jeff share a look. Then Gareth mumbles, “Like a maniac.”

Eddie runs his fingers into his hair, grips it and groans. It turns into a scream. He lets it out with more and more vigor, throwing his head back and arching his spine. When he finishes, his throat is sore, his mouth dry, but the ache in his chest has lessened. 

“Feel better?” Jeff asks. 

Eddie shrugs. “A little.”

“Wanna tell us what that was all about?” Gareth folds their arms across their chest.

“No.” Eddie turns and picks up his guitar, figuring they should get practice started if they want any chance of winning the battle this weekend. After a moment, he sets it down. “I’m an idiot. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“We were all tricked.” Gareth steps toward Eddie, wanting to give a comforting pat, but Jeff’s scoff stops him.

“Not me.” Jeff shakes his head. 

Both Eddie and Gareth shout that down. “Even you gave in in the end.” Gareth points at Jeff. 

“This isn’t what matters. I want to do the plan,” Eddie says.

“The plan?” Gareth asks as Jeff says, “What plan?”

“To embarrass him.” Eddie turns to his band mates, a determined set to his jaw. “At the Battle of the Bands.”

Neither says anything. In fact, they seem to deflate. Eddie doesn’t miss it. “What’s the problem?” He lifts his arms in confusion. “You were on my side originally but now you aren’t? Even after what he’s done this time?”

Eddie looks at his two friends, trying to catch their eyes. Neither one will. Eddie walks up to Jeff, hoping his presence will pressure him into answering.

“I don’t know, man,” Jeff offers.

Eddie barks out a sardonic laugh. “How? He helps break my hand freshman year and then wears me down to convince me that he isn’t bad, pretending to care about me, only to have been tricking me the whole time. Isn’t that worse?”

Gareth grunts. “I don’t know, dude. Maybe he wasn’t faking.”

Eddie turns to him. “How can you say that? What else could he have been doing?”

“He went to game night,” Jeff adds to Gareth’s position.

“He helped us with the prank and the photo shoot.” Gareth pats the back of one hand into the palm of the other. “He has a special handshake with Dustin, that’s not fake.”

“And the way he looked at you at the photo shoot. When no one was looking. Didn’t look like pretending to me.”

Eddie runs his fingers into his hair again and groans. “Or he could be so good that he could convince both of you of his evilness.”

Jeff scratches at his eyebrow and Gareth grips their bicep, unsure what to say. “Maybe we should just have practice and talk about this later,” Jeff suggests.

Eddie nods and picks up his guitar, tuning it and not looking at either of them.

Practice proceeds without a hitch. In fact, Gareth points out that Eddie seemed to sing with more passion and they never had to start over to stay together. Eddie knows that they are trying to cheer him up, but it had felt good to forget things with Steve and focus on the music, lose himself to performing. 

But once he is driving home, the sunset painting the sky in neon oranges and dusty purples, everything comes rushing back in. Before he drops Gareth off at home, they turn to him and comment, “You had another motivation for keeping Steve around too. At least initially. I know things changed, but you can’t deny that you were sorta lying to him too.” And he can’t. That doesn’t mean he likes it.

He figures he has a few more days to decide if he will go after his revenge. For now, he can let the anger simmer because it feels better than the pain of losing the Steve he thought he knew.

Nancy honks the horn when she pulls up to Steve’s door. He takes one more look in the mirror by the door, making sure that he is ready to do this. 

His hair is coiffed to fall just so; the girls he’s taken out on dates have said it made his eyes look good. Though he has no experience with boys, he figures this is a good place to start. He runs his hand through it one more time, meticulously adjusting it to settle his nerves. 

For the outfit, he settled on a pair of dark jeans and a burnt orange henley. His mom would say it makes him look soft and approachable, which he supposes might apply to Eddie too. Not that it’s Eddie’s style, but Steve can only be who he is. The apology won’t mean anything if he pretends to be someone he isn’t. Besides, Eddie would see him as a poser if Steve showed up in all black and chains. 

He taps his cheeks to add a little color there and decides he is good enough.

In the car, Nancy and Robin are dolled up in their own way. Nancy wearing a sleek romper, her hair pulled off her neck into an updo, and glitter flicker on her eyelids. Robin is wearing dark trousers with her emerald green shirt tucked in and suspenders to make clear this isn’t meant to appear straight. 

Nancy drives back down the driveway. Robin turns to him and lifts an eyebrow. “You ready to do this?”

Steve picks at some non-existent lint on his pant leg. “I’ve figured out the words I want to say and how to say them.”

Nancy glances at him in the rearview mirror before turning onto the main road. Robin shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know what you meant.” Steve sighs. “That’s all I’ve got.”

Nancy perks up. “Having given many speeches in my day, with varying degrees of preparedness, I can say with confidence that sometimes your body goes into a void state before and during the event. Your mind is so focused on not messing up that there is no space to pay attention to your feelings.”

Robin faces forward and Nancy looks Steve in the eye through the rearview mirror again. “This matters to you? He matters to you?”

At first, Steve wants to yell and scoff at Nance. Of course Eddie matters! Why else would he spend all this time coming to terms with being into boys and why else would he face down Tommy and why else would he have wasted away for fear this wouldn’t work. But that’s not what Nance wants from him. “Yes,” he answers, no waver in his voice. “I want to make things right.”

“Then,” Nancy continues, “don’t worry about feeling ready. Go through the motions. Follow your plan. When you step off the stage, we can deal with whatever emotions come up then.”

Robin nods. “Whatever happens, we’ll still be by your side. This won’t be the end of everything.”

Steve wants to believe her. But it feels an awful lot like it is the end of everything. Or, at least, that if Eddie doesn’t hear him out, it will be the end of everything.

As they reach the edge of town, Steve has a moment of panic, followed by an idea. He pulls out his phone, scrolls through his contacts and taps on the name he is looking for. 

He lifts the phone up to his ear and listens to the ring.

“Who are you calling?” Robin asks over her shoulder. 

“Shh,” Steve says with his finger over his lips.

After the third ring, the kid picks up. “Hey Steve,” Dustin says, his excitement clear in his tone. Then something shifts. “I mean, what do you want?” It’s clear Eddie has told Dustin at least something of what’s occurred between them for Dustin to need to pretend he isn’t excited to talk to Steve.

But that doesn’t matter. “Dustin, I need your help,” Steve says. There isn’t much time before the start of the Battle of the Bands concert and this will go over better if he has a man, or kid, on the inside.

“Why would I help you?” His voice wavers slightly betraying his confused emotions.

Steve sighs. “Because you care for Eddie.” Nancy slows down below the speed limit; Steve hopes it’s to give him more time to get Dustin’s help.

“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t help you. What you did was so not cool.”

“And that’s another reason I need your help.” He digs his thumb into his eyebrow. “I’m going to apologize to him tonight. I’m not asking him for anything, not to talk to me or to forgive me or anything. I just need him to hear it.”

Dustin is quiet on the other end of the line. Nance and Robin share a look between them, and Robin reaches out to grab Nancy’s hand. Steve tries again. “Even if he doesn’t forgive me, knowing how sorry I am may help him heal from it.”

Dustin groans before gritting out, “Fine.”

Chapter Text

“Welcome to the nineteenth annual Hawkins High School Battle of the Bands,” Nancy declares into the mic taped to the side of her face.

Robin leans into Steve and whispers, “I love to watch her in her element. It’s so sexy.”

Steve fakes a laugh, knowing Robin is trying to keep his focus off his growing nerves. 

The stage is set up on the practice field behind the high school. The whole area of grass and the surrounding areas are covered in people. Along the edges, various booths are set up by organizations in the school hoping to make some last minute money for their budget next year. Mostly it is concessions, but a few orgs have made shirts supporting one band or another. From the wings of the stage, Steve can’t tell if any are for Corroded Coffin and he hasn’t had time to check as Nancy put him directly to work upon arriving. Another attempt to make the time go faster and keep his mind off his nerves. 

Now though, his mind will have all the time in the world to obsess as he waits in the wings for the bands to play and for his turn to step out there to say his piece.

Robin and Nancy both thought it would be better for him to make his apology before Corroded Coffin went on for their set. Taking any attention away from Eddie and his chances to win the battle would give Steve no help in getting Eddie’s forgiveness. Steve had wondered if his apology would take away from that bands set, but neither girl had thought it would since Corroded Coffin was the second most voted for in the initial rounds. 

“Who is ready to hear the best music that Hawkins has to offer?” The crowd cheers, though like every presenter before her, Nancy responds, “I can’t hear you!” They manage to increase their volume to eardrum shattering levels. 

“That’s what I like to hear.” Nancy paces the stage gesturing widely with her arms so even those in the back can follow her. What Steve couldn’t see when he got into the car was that the romper, though dark, had some sort of glitter applied to it. Now when the lights hit Nancy she shines like a disco ball. “Remember that voting isn’t open until after the last band. You will get the chance for your voice to be heard.”

“The first band in the line up was voted the fifth most popular band this year. They beat out thirteen other bands to get this spot so by no means are they last. Put your hands together for Licking Toads!” 

Nancy claps as she leaves the stage and the band walks on. Whether those in the crowd voted for them or not, they cheer as though they did. The drummer counts out a beat and the show begins.

“Eddie! I need you,” Dustin screams as he bursts into the room. Prior to their turn at the stage, all of the bands have been assigned classrooms to wait in. For their part, Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff have been going over their set list one more time. They skipped out on Indianapolis last night to practice at home and get as much rest as possible: this seemed more important. Eddie thought he’d get more sleep if he was exhausted from the show, but he was outvoted. Gareth had said something under their breath about him wanting to avoid feeling anything, but Eddie had chosen to ignore them.

Eddie spent the night agonizing about his final choice to go forward with his revenge. Not so much feeling guilty about doing it, more the thousands of potential outcomes. There was one particular sequence of daydreams where the audience turned on Steve and he had to finish the year at home. It hadn’t resulted in much sleep.

And now Dustin is interrupting their final practice, pulling on Eddie’s arm and dragging him toward the door. “Dustin, stop. We’re practicing.”

The rest of the freshmen appear in the doorway. Mike mean-mugs Eddie and scoffs. “Like three minutes of your life is gonna make a difference to your chances of winning.”

Dustin stops tugging and Eddie stops resisting to stand tall in front of Mike. “I can’t tell if that’s a vote of confidence or you think we’re gonna lose.” He just shrugs.

“You’ve gotta come see this,” Will intones, with Lucas and Max behind him nodding along.

“It can wait until after the show.” Eddie turns back to Jeff and Gareth, but before he can take a step, all of the freshmen move around him and push him out the door. “Hey!”

“It can’t wait,” Dustin says as he pushes against Eddie. He huffs and puffs with the effort, even with his friends helping him. “It’s important.”

Eddie can’t prevent them from pushing him out the door and along the roped off walkway to the backstage entrance. From here he can see the stage, which is currently hidden by a curtain as the third band prepares for their set. 

The kids stop pushing him and turn him to face the stage. “What’s so important about this?” Eddie demands.

Dustin shoves his arms across his chest as the rest of the kids spread out in a circle around Eddie effectively cutting off his escape routes. Something about this feels fishy. “You’ve gotta wait a few moments, but you need to see it.”

“See what?” Eddie cries. “This is the most important day of my life and y’all are messing around like this?” 

Dustin presses his hands together. “Eddie I promise I’m not trying to hurt your chances of winning. This is only going to be five minutes of your life tops. Then you can go back inside and prepare for the set of your life.”

Eddie hangs his head and presses his face into his palms. “Fine,” he groans.

The crowd cheers and Eddie lifts his head to see if this is what he needs to see. He expects to see Nancy walking onto the stage. As the student body president, it’s her role to be the host of this event, one of her last jobs in the position. He’s seen his share of student body presidents and she is by far the most competent.

Instead, he sees Steve and his stomach drops into the grass beneath him.

The three sets before Steve goes on to share his apology for one person with the entire school, maybe even the whole of Hawkins, are a blur. But the moment comes in its own time regardless of his desire to speed it up or slow it down. The curtains part and Robin hands him the mic, a comforting smile on her face.

Steve inhales and blows out the breath, imagining that all the possibilities of this action flow out with his breath so that the only thing remaining is the one outcome he wants: Eddie being willing to hear him out and forgive him. Then, he walks onto the stage.

When he steps out, some in the crowd start to cheer, thinking he is Nancy or the next band. Once they make sense of who he is, quiet settles over the thousands of people in the practice field. Steve focuses on putting one foot in front of the other until he makes it to the middle of the stage. Once there, he turns to the crowd, turns on the mic and brings it to his lips. 

“Some of you may recognize me,” he says. His throat feels stiff and rusty like he hasn’t spoken in weeks. But in reality, it’s the content of what he’s about to say that is foreign to his vocal chords. “But for those who don’t, I’m Steve Harrington. I’m a senior here at Hawkins and I’ve played basketball for all four years.”

Someone in the front of the crowd shouts out, “We know who you are Steve.”

Another follows that with, “What are you doing?”

Steve chuckles into the mic and the crowd seems to release a wave of tension. “Right, well I felt like this would be my last opportunity to make an impact on this school and I’ve got some things to share with y’all.”

“There are some of you in this crowd that see me and want to be like me.” Multiple people let loose woos at this. Steve just shakes his head, not being thrown off his intended path. “And others feel the complete opposite. Some of you feel fear and it’s to those people I want to speak to the most.”

He lowers the mic and takes another deep breath. “Whether I’ve wanted it or not, I have a reputation among some of you as a bully. If not that, at least as an enabler to a bully. Who that is and their role in this isn’t for me to speak to. Instead, I want to acknowledge my role in it.”

Steve has enough courage to scan the crowd, lifting his eyes from the fence separating the front of the stage and the crowd to search for one face in particular. It loosens his shoulders and he can breathe better. “If I ever made your day worse, made you scared to walk down the hall or go to lunch. If I ever caused you to lose sleep or physically hurt you. If I have in anyway made your time here at this school a living hell, I want you to hear these words.”

The crowd inhales as they wait to hear what Steve will say next. It feels like power, a feeling Steve has been familiar with for some time though he’d never been able to name it before. Now that he can, it makes him nauseous. “I apologize for the harm I’ve done and I want to make better choices. If you want a more direct and specific apology, you can reach out to me whenever you are ready for that.”

Before Steve can get to the specific part of his speech, the crowd starts clapping and cheering. This is not the reaction Steve expected, nor is it the one he wants if he comes out of it looking like an asshole for false humility. Steve waves his arms and tries to silence the crowd. “I have more to say,” he yells into the mic.

The crowd quiets down with bated breath. “This next apology is for one person in particular, someone I’ve probably hurt more than anyone else. I’m not going to share their name because the whole of town doesn’t need to know our personal business.” That gets a few giggles from the crowd, but not enough to slow him down.

“What I did to this person would be unforgivable in the eyes of anyone. I come out of it looking like a villain and a monster.”

Steve scans the crowd once more, still search for Eddie among the mass. He switches tactics, no longer talking to the crowd, but instead pretending they aren’t there at all. “You are completely justified in never speaking to me again. I can live with the guilt of my choices, but you don’t need to carry more confusion over it. I only say this with the hope of helping you get over this for yourself, not for you to forgive me or come back to me.”

He stops scanning as he eyes settle on a head of curly hair standing in the walkway to the stage. Steve can’t make out his eyes from here, but he does his best to find them so he can say his final piece. “I will never stop being sorry for what I did to you. I never thought about hurting you and that only makes it worse. I allowed you to trust me when I was being anything but trustworthy. I allowed you to care for me when I didn’t consider you. I let you—” 

Steve’s voice cracks and he stumbles over his next words. When he practiced this in his room and the shower and over breakfast, this part always caused him to stumble. But he has to push through.

“I let you think of potential futures when I was living selfishly in the moment.”

Steve squints to try to make out Eddie’s reaction, but he can’t pick out anything. He continues. “I wish I was a better man for you—” the words feel sticky like syrup as they leave his mouth. His palms break out in a sweat and he feels naked in front of the crowd like a nightmare. “—because you deserve the world.”

Steve lowers the mic. He can hear the crickets and frogs singing from the woods at the edge of the field. The crowd seems unsure how to react and Steve has nothing else to say, so he walks off stage. When he makes it to the walkway back to the school, there is no one there.

Eddie slams the door behind him, keeping the kids out. He can hear a few half-hearted complaints but then they walk away. Eddie’s heart feels like a drumming solo in his chest and his breath comes faster than after their basement shows in Indy.

“What’d they want you to see?” Jeff asks.

Eddie takes a few steps into the room. “Change of plans,” Eddie says instead of answering Jeff’s question. He isn’t sure he could put into words what he just saw and how he feels about it. What’s important, though, is that everything has changed.

“Where?” Gareth asks.

“I’m nixing the video during our last song.”

Jeff frowns at him. “But you were dead set on revenge.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, there wasn’t time to explain. “Things have changed, I’ll explain later. We’ll do the song like we always do, no extended solo.”

Jeff and Gareth turn to each other, Jeff leaning down to whisper in Gareth’s ear. Before they can share their thoughts, the door to the room opens and the stage manager pokes her head in. “Five minutes before you’re on.”

When she shuts the door, Eddie turns back to his band mates. “Are we good?”

Gareth has a knowing smirk on their face that Eddie can’t interpret. “Yeah, we’re with you.”

Later, long after the echoes of the show have faded, Eddie will tell his friends that the only thing he remembers clearly is what he said into the mic before their last song. That the music and the crowd felt like every other show they’ve done. Neither Jeff nor Gareth believe him, having been the unfortunate audience for his detailed post-show breakdowns on the drive back from Indy. But it isn’t important that he knows that.

From the moment his foot touches the stairs to the backstage, Eddie’s heart soaks in every detail it can. He keeps his eyes open for the smallest hint of Steve, though he finds nothing. He isn’t sure whether he’s searching because he wants to see Steve or because he wants to avoid him. They make it to the wings without issue, Eddie in the lead. He hardly feels the guitar strapped to his back. The noise of the crowd is only the buzz of a fly zooming around his head.

“Finally, the wait is over,” Nancy says to the waiting crowd, her voice booming into the backstage. The sound that explodes then is incredible. Their basement show crowd pales in comparison. 

“You voted them number 1 to this stage, will they keep your vote to win the Battle of the Bands?” Again, the crowd screams. Once the volume lowers enough to be heard over, Nancy shouts, “Corroded Coffin.”

She walks towards them, a smile on her face. When she is close enough to be heard, she says to Eddie. “Good luck.”

Eddie grabs her arm to stop her as his band mates walk to the stage. “Did he mean it?” Still the crowd cheers for them, but Eddie doesn’t care. Not for them.

Without skipping a beat, she says, “He’s never meant anything more.”

With that, Eddie settles his wayward heart, making another notch in the column of wanting to forgive Steve. He walks onstage to a burst of sound from the crowd. Eddie slides his guitar around, Jeff takes his position, and Gareth taps out the beat behind the drum kit.

Without Steve to give them insight into the heavily high school crowd, they had to rely on their own understanding of the flow of a set and what Steve had taught them about popularity to pick the three songs they would play. 

For the first song, they settled on the song they played during the prank. Gareth had argued that it would remind the crowd of why they liked the band in the first place. They play it without any issue and the crowd responds positively when it ends.

Eddie doesn’t let the last note of that song finish echoing over the practice field before he strikes the first chord of the next song. This is one that their new fans from the high school won’t know. 

Eddie had wanted to go with one of the songs that showcased their metal chops the best; Jeff had said, “We want to win this thing, not scare off the lily-white new fans. People who care about it not being metal enough clearly don’t recognize the reality of the situation.” 

Eventually, Eddie gave in. They went with a song whose riffs are reminiscent of rock music and with an easily repeatable chorus. By the second round of the chorus, there are people singing along in the front of the crowd. Until this moment, he wasn’t fully convinced it was a good choice. But as the number of people singing along to the chorus grows and grows, he can’t help but smile as he sings.

The last song is the one from their submission video. Before Gareth can start the beat, Eddie signals for him to wait. Talking to the crowd is something he’s learned to do well. His outrageous personality works well for a front man, and a metal band at that. He digs into that now.

“How’re doing tonight?” he asks into the mic. The crowd responds beautifully. 

Gareth drums out a beat, a little nothing that keeps the crowd going. A thing they learned doing all the shows in Indy. “Now, I know you’ve heard some great music today,” again the crowd cheers. “But I hope we’ve been the best of the group.”

Crowd work is a strength of his, but doing it with high schoolers, some of whom are probably drunk, is stupidly easy. While they cheer, Eddie scans the crowd hoping that Steve will stand out, that he’ll be up front cheering loudly for them. He even checks the wings again on the off chance they just missed each other. Nothing.

There are a ton of phones pointed at him so even if Steve has left, someone will film what he’s about to say and get it to him. Steve stood before this crowd and not only apologized to those he hurt, but also to Eddie. And then he went a step further to basically admit to having feelings for Eddie. He’d be a coward not to do the same.

“Before we play our last song for you tonight,” Eddie strums a chord on his guitar, “I want to say something.”

“According to my doctrine,” Eddie says, a smirk on his lips. It stays as he whispers rule 11 to himself. “People don’t change, not because they can’t, but because they don’t want to.”

He strums another chord, one contrary to his last. “I also believe, I need to admit when I’m wrong. And on the point of people not changing.” He pauses for the drama as he grips the neck of his guitar and looks out to the cameras. “I’m wrong. Change can happen and I’m willing to hear you out.”

The crowd cheers, but it sounds less enthused than other cheers. But his words weren’t for them, they were for Steve and he can’t be sure Steve’s heard him. The only thing he can do is play his heart out in this last song and win this Battle of the Bands, not waste the help that Steve gave him.

So with that, Eddie signals to Gareth to start. They bust out the beat of the last song. Eddie focuses on the individual chords and notes, the movements of his fingers, the way the bass vibrates through his bones. Everyone in the crowd seems to sing along with them and it makes him realize this is probably the biggest crowd they’ve played to yet. Never in his wildest dreams did he think this would happen, even when Steve had approached them with his plan. It all seemed too fantastical. Now they are here, enjoying the fruits of years of labor, and an encounter with Steve Harrington.

As the song comes to an end, Eddie realizes that he wouldn’t be in this position without Tommy and Steve making that bet. He wouldn’t be in this position if Tommy hadn’t wanted to humiliate him. The band wouldn’t be in this position if at some level Steve hadn’t believed in their ability to perform. 

Yes, the happenstance came about because of an asshole’s attempt to hurt Eddie, but it worked out well because, at his heart, Steve put forth a real effort for Eddie and then saw that there was more to Eddie than he knew.

The song ends and they walk off the stage, arms in the air, triumphant, the crowd chanting their name. But within a moment, the crowd’d chant changes to, “Encore! Encore! Encore!” 

Jeff wraps Gareth in a hug and picks them up. “Our first encore.” Eddie jumps besides them in excitement. 

Nancy walks past them. “From the sound of your cheers, you guys are ready to vote for your favorite act. Mr. Callahan and Miss. Clarke have informed me that the voting app is now open for voting. So take out your phones and submit your final vote. Who will take the night and enter the Hawkins High history books as the winner of this years Battle of the Bands? You decide.”

The curtains close before she can walk off stage. Eddie follows her with his eyes to see if she can lead him to Steve. Instead, she walks backstage and finds Robin. He swallows his pride and joins them.

“Hey Eddie,” Robin says. “Great set.”

“Thanks,” he says with a smile. As a member of band, he knows that Robin understands what it takes to prepare for a show, regardless of which instruments one plays and how many people are in the band, so her compliment comes with more weight. Eddie scratches the back of his neck. “I’m wondering if you know where Steve is.”

Robin’s face falls, and Nancy’s with her. “After he was on stage, he walked off hoping to find you,” Robin says. “We haven’t seen him since.”

Eddie’s hand falls to his side. “If you see him, let him know I’m looking for him.”

“If it helps,” Nancy says before he can walk away, “he headed toward the school out that way.” She points to the entrance they came through ten or fifteen minutes ago.

He nods in thanks and heads off toward it. Gareth calls to him before he can make it, “Where are you going? We need to be here for the winner announcement.”

Eddie says, “I’ve gotta find him. I’ll be back before Nancy takes the stage.”

Jeff smiles. “Go get him.” Eddie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t question the quick switch in loyalties. A moment later, Gareth nods too, trusting that Eddie knows what he is doing.

Chapter Text

Steve stands in the shadow of the school, away from the crowd, at the entrance from the student parking lot. Outside the very entrance that Eddie once threated to punch him at. There, he paces and runs his fingers along the rough bricks of the building. He’d heard Eddie’s words—even if he hadn’t be standing at the edge of the crowd, everyone he followed is posting about it—and now is the moment of truth.

This is where it started. No, this is where it restarted. He couldn’t go back to freshman year and Eddie’s locker and he couldn’t stop Tommy.

No, this is where they got their first second-chance and it’s where they’ll get their second second-chance. Only this time, no one would threaten to punch anyone. At least he hopes.

Steve notices the quick slap of feet against the asphalt, like someone is running nearby. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t want to get his hopes up if it isn’t Eddie, doesn’t want to invite interaction if it’s just some random person. Within a moment, whoever it is stops behind him.

“Steve?”

It’s Eddie’s voice saying his name and the realization brings fireworks in his chest. Steve turns, mouth agape, and exhales, “Eddie.”

Ten feet from him stands Eddie in all his post show glow. His hair is wind-blown, a halo around his head; his cheeks are lightly dusted pink, though the longer Steve stares, the pinker they get; and Steve sees that Eddie is wearing something familiar. It’s the outfit that Steve liked the best from the photo shoot day: tight ripped black jeans and a sleeveless tee with arm holes cut low showing off his torso. 

“Oh,” he barks when he realizes. So many things woven together for this very moment.

Eddie’s lip quivers. “What is it?” 

“Your outfit.” Steve takes a few hesitant steps forward. 

“You like?” Eddie gazes down at his front, then up at Steve through his bangs.

Steve steps within arms-reach of Eddie. “It looks really good on you.” It amazes Steve how little he reacts to this. It should feel earth shattering, admitting he is attracted—sexually—to another guy. 

Except, it’s Eddie. 

And over the past few weeks and the years before, he’s seen the best and worst of Steve. What is one more piece of him? What is this truth when he believes Eddie won’t turn away?

Eddie leans in toward Steve, the color of his cheeks spreading to the rest of his face. “You look fucking amazing,” Steve adds, a hands-breadth away from gripping Eddie’s hips.

“Not so bad yourself,” Eddie mumbles, a smile on his lips.

Instead of reaching for his hips, Steve grips Eddie’s hands between them, unsure what Eddie will be comfortable with. “I am so sorry—”

“—Steve—”

“—and if you are willing, I will do everything in my power to make it up to you—”

“—I heard your apology—”

Steve exhales, wanting Eddie to hear him say it. “I blew up the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

Eddie shakes his head and squeezes Steve’s hands. “I’m still here, in one piece.” He let’s Steve’s hands go to rest his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “We just got a little lost. Besides, Munson Doctrine rule 13.”

Steve reaches out and pulls Eddie close by his hips, giving in to his desire to do so. The smirk it brings to Eddie’s mouth sends Steve’s heart pounding in his chest, it’s a wonder that Eddie doesn’t notice. “I think there’s only one thing for me to do to get back on track.”

Eddie licks his lips. “What’s that?”

Steve watches, gaze lingering on the pink shine of the light on the bottom lip. Then, he lifts his eyes to Eddie’s. “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie chuffs. “No running away after?”

Steve can feel the pull from Eddie and he does nothing to resist it, leaning closer to the man. “I know my way now.” 

Eddie chuckles at that and leans in. To which Steve responds in kind, swallowing the mirth and happiness spilling from Eddie’s lips and into his own with a kiss. 

Warmth spreads through Steve’s body everywhere that Eddie is touching: his lips, his cheek, his upper back. He pulls Eddie close, wrapping his arms around the other man’s waist. Eddie is solid, there is no give as Steve presses his fingers into his skin, grabs at his shoulders, and twists his tongue into Eddie’s mouth. Steve feels no surprise in this kiss unlike the first time in Eddie’s room. It feels familiar and new. It feels like the end of an era and the start of something new.

It feels like coming home.

The kiss is so powerful, so all encompassing, that they almost miss the announcement coming over the stage speakers.

“We’ll be awarding the winner in five minutes,” Mr. Callahan says. 

Steve pulls away, Eddie chasing his lips, not ready to end their make out session just yet. “We’ve gotta go,” he laughs as Eddie closes the distance between them.

“It took me two minutes to run over here, so by my calculations, we have three more minutes” Eddie murmurs into Steve’s cheek before moving down to his neck. Steve doesn’t fight him as Eddie kisses the chord of Steve’s neck, lingering and sucking the lower he goes. He’s wanted to do this for so long that he’s lost track of everything else around him. Taking in every aspect of this moment with Steve is all that matters, and Eddie is nothing if not dedicated to his art. He opens his mouth wider to suck harder at the base of Steve’s neck; the man moans low in his throat, the rumble vibrating into Eddie’s teeth.

“Eddie,” Steve whines. “Your band mates will never forgive me if y’all win and you aren’t there because of me.”

“I’m a grown man,” he says, offended. “I can make my own decisions.”

Steve leans in, forehead to forehead, settling his hands on Eddie’s hips, his thumb rubbing the skin exposed by his shirt. Eddie slides his hands down and rests them on Steve’s biceps. “We have so much time to make out. But you’ll only win the Battle of the Bands this once.”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s arms and sighs. “Fine, but you owe me more making out.”

Steve smiles and it makes Eddie’s heart go crazy. “That is a deal I have no problem taking.”

When they reach the dark shadow on the outside of the crowd and stage lights, Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand and goes to let go.

Steve won’t let him. “Are you sure?” Eddie asks, knowing the consequences of being even potentially gay in their presence. 

They stand for a moment as Steve looks out over the crowd. The noise of hundreds of people waiting isn’t quiet, but it’s nothing compared to when Corroded Coffin was on stage. Eddie isn’t sure if his ears are ringing from that or from how close he is to confirming a rumor the school population has no problem hurting him over. 

“We’re going to graduate in a few weeks and then we’ll never have to see these people again. If they don’t like it, in the year of our lord 20__, they can suck it.”

“Steve Harrington,” Eddie sighs, his eyes glued to the man’s face which is lit perfectly by the lights of the stage, a soft glow. In his wildest dreams, no one he’s had a crush on has said anything like this: it would hurt too much to dream it if it wasn’t even slightly possible. And yet here he is with the most popular “straight” guy at Hawkins High. “I’ve never been more attracted to you.”

“Well, I hope I can beat this moment someday. But first, let’s get you that Battle of the Bands win.” Steve pulls Eddie toward the backstage before he can respond. But he follows Steve, hand in hand.

The closer they get to backstage, the more people there are. Clumps of students stand around, probably friends of the bands and the bands themselves waiting on the announcement, and Eddie doesn’t miss the heads that turn and double-take at him and Steve. Up ahead, his band mates, the freshman, Robin and Nancy stand in a circle looking at the two of them. He isn’t sure which of them reacts first, but an infectious smile spreads through the group. Only Mike looks slightly uninterested with a smirk and a glance at Will. 

“So that’s where you got off to,” Jeff starts off with a shake of his head. “We’ve been biting our nails over voting and you’re grabbing ass.”

Robin shoots him a sharp glance. “Don’t even tough guy. You know we were all just speculating on the outcome of the apology.”

Eddie points at Robin then raises his eyebrows at Jeff. Steve jumps in and says, “Hopefully no one is betting. Haven’t y’all learned from me? It’s not a good idea.”

Will looks at them with stars in his eyes. “It couldn’t have been so bad. Y’all got together in the end.”

Steve crosses his arms, not letting go of Eddie’s hand and pulling him to awkwardly cross Steve’s body. “That’s not the point. Don’t take that away from this.”

Eddie takes back his hand and slides his arm around Steve’s shoulder. “This is just the prize for all the suffering of the last few weeks, not the guaranteed outcome.”

Steve blushes and looks at Eddie, a softness in his cheeks and his lips and his eyes. Eddie just wants to stare at him like this forever. “Aw, you think I’m a prize,” Steve coos.

Nancy sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Women have fought to not be seen as things, and then men make it cute to be things.”

Robin comforts her girlfriend by patting her shoulder and saying, “The fight continues.” Max crosses her arms next to the couple and judges Steve with her frown. 

“Thank you all for your patience,” Miss. Clarke says into the mic.

“Shit,” Nancy spits before running toward backstage. She appears onstage a moment later, holding a large trophy. 

The small crowd of bands and supporters pushes toward the fence separating them from the audience.

“It the moment you’ve all been waiting for, a culmination of days of voting and years of work, we’re sure. It’s time to award the winner of the Hawkins Battle of the Bands.”

The roar of the crowd rises like a heat wave, distorting the air above them. Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth join them, doing their best metal scream. 

It takes a minute for the crowd to settle enough for the presenters to speak. “Five bands played for you tonight,” Miss. Clarke continues, “but only one will be the winner.”

A buzz comes from the middle of the crowd, chanting of something that Eddie can’t make out at first. “What’re they saying?” he says to no one in particular.

Steve frowns and Jeff leans out to listen harder. The buzz grows, an unavoidable wave pulling everyone into it’s chant. “Corro-ded Cof-fin. Corro-ded Cof-fin. Corro-ded Cof-fin.” 

Shock freezes Eddie on the spot. Steve jumps onto his shoulders and shouts. “They’re chanting for you!”

Gareth screams something unintelligible and Jeff grabs their hands to jump in a circle. 

The chant kills the momentum of the ceremony, silencing the announcers. Though Miss. Clarke tries to reign them in, Eddie thinks, the wave crashes against the stage and ripples back through the crowd.

“If this doesn’t mean you won, I’m gonna be so mad,” Steve shouts.

Everything about this moment is surreal. Not only that Steve is here, rooting for them. Not only that the high school student body is rooting for them. But that the audience full of people from all over town is chanting their name.

Mr. Callahan shouts into the mic, “Please calm down so we can announce the winner.”

Miss. Clarke hands him an envelope. He opens it and reads the card, his eyes going wide. The two announcers share an incredulous look.

“What’s going on? I can’t look,” Gareth groans, covering their eyes with their arms. 

Nancy walks over to them, seemingly to check that everything is ok. Eddie watches them closely to determine who’s won, not being able to stand the building tension in his body and butterflies in his stomach. Their faces look amicable though and Mr. Callahan smiles before returning to the mic.

“Sorry folks. Nothing wrong here except my own shock. The winner of the 20__ Hawkins Battle of the Bands is…”

“Corroded Coffin.”

Steve’s vision blacks out at the volume of shouting in that moment. The crowd explodes again, but next to him, the three band members of Corroded Coffin are screaming so high pitched that Steve wonders if he’s burst his ear drums.

When his vision returns, he sees them jumping all over each other in excitement. “Get up there,” Dustin says, shoving them toward the backstage stairs.

They go, screaming and jumping the whole way. That is until Eddie breaks off and runs back toward them.

Steve opens his arms and Eddie runs into them, forcefully colliding into Steve’s chest so that Steve has to pick him up. “Eddie, what are you doing? You won, get up there.”

Eddie pulls back and kisses him. Around them the crowd is still shouting and cheering; Steve can’t help but imagine it is for them. Somehow, this is the most public display of affection he has ever performed. The anticipation the battle, the spotlights, the crowd. 

Steve lets Eddie down as Eddie releases the kiss. “I…thank you.”

“Why?”

“You’re why we got here.” Eddie’s eyes glint with moisture. Steve squeezes him. “I didn’t want to forget that.”

“You can express your gratitude later,” Steve says with a chuckle. “Get up there and get your trophy.”

Steve watches as Eddie runs back stage, joining Jeff and Gareth onstage a moment later. The cheering from the crowd grows louder with his appearance, the chant changing from the band name to speech. 

It’s only because he stands so close that Steve even notes his presence. “Ready to admit defeat?” Steve says, just loud enough for him to hear.

Tommy doesn’t move, but Steve can feel the displeasure rolling off him. It brings him a sweet sense of success, even if the goal was to make him a better person.

“This means no more bullying people, we shook on it.” Steve takes his eyes off the stage and Eddie to glare at Tommy.

“Who’s to stay I won’t go back on it? This doesn’t change anything.”

Steve looks back at the stage and then out at the crowd, still chanting their support for Corroded Coffin and Eddie. He smiles to himself knowing that Tommy is wrong. It changed everything.

He shrugs. “I guess not. But I have a feeling it won’t matter either way.”

On stage, Eddie hands the trophy to Jeff and steps up to the mic. The chants for a speech, reach a fever pitch, and Steve claps along with them.

Tommy bumps against Steve, drawing his attention away from Eddie. “What’s so great about him?”

Steve gapes at Tommy, at his audacity and the genuine emotion in the question. His shocked into silence.

“Why him?” Tommy demands.

Steve laughs. “You picked him. All I did was give him a chance.” He tilts his head, considering Tommy in the lights of the concert space as things align in his mind. “I think dropping you allowed me to see things differently. Allowed me to grow. Why him? He isn’t you.”

Tommy face crumples into stone. His body tenses like he is going to pounce on Steve and start punching, but a moment later he turns on his heel and storms off.

Steve turns around and Robin is standing right there. “Everything all right?”

“Perfectly.”

“Good because your boyfriend is about to make his speech.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue, but realizes there’s nothing to say. It’s not an insult, and though it hasn’t happened yet, it’s only a matter of time.