Archive of Our Own

Halloween 1984

Heather plucks at the edges of her pleated skirt, her knitted tights and leg warmers covering her skin beneath them. She’s not nervous; she does this all of the time but it’s the waiting around to do it that puts her a little on edge. 

She hears the click clack of her mother’s heels tap across the wooden floor, making their way into the sitting room where Heather is waiting.

She slumps into the sofa, closes her eyes, scrunches her eyebrows together like she’s in pain. And as expected her mother enters and says, “baby. Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

Heather feels the back of her mother’s cold hand rest against her forehead.

“Oh, Heather. You’re burning up?”

“I am?”

Wrapping a heated cloth from the radiator around her head beforehand usually does the trick.

“Sweetie. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Heather opens her eyes, making a real meal of it, squinting up at her mother.

“I guess…I do have a headache. And my skin feels quite warm.”

“Oh. Darling. You can’t come out with us. Why don’t you stay at home?”

“But…mom. You know how much I love the Hawkin’s Post parties,” she lies.

“I know, sweetie. Oh. Tom. Tom, darling, come and take a look at Heather. Do you think she’s well enough to join us?”

Heather turns her head, flopping it lazily over the back of the couch. She pulls a sad face at him. He’s shrugging on his jacket hastily; he hates to be late, which they already are. She knows this will work.

“It’s up to you, darling. Let’s make the decision quickly, we need to leave.”

The decision is made for her when she pretends to struggle getting up off the couch and her mom swiftly helps her up and back into bed. 

“You’ll call the office if you feel any worse?”

“I will.”

“Okay, darling. Rest up.”

Heather lays completely still. Smiling to herself, staring up at the ceiling until she hears the click of the front door, the engine of her father’s beloved motor, and the screech of the tyres as they turn away out of the driveway.

And then, she jumps out of bed.

She’s already dancing before she flicks on the cassette player. 

-

Heather arrives at the party alone but sees her friends waiting in the front yard of the house for her. There’s the usual sights; keg stands, toilet paper, and a lot of teenagers on the edge of adulthood drinking before they’re legally allowed to. 

“A ballerina?” Carol asks. “That’s not scary.”

“Neither is a bunny, Carol, but you don’t see me saying anything,” Heather bites back. She never really did like Carol. 

“You’re only wearing that to impress Steve. He’s here with Nancy.”

“Who are you trying to impress, then?” She says, trying to deflect from the immediate mention of Steve. Like, okay, she still has a crush on Steve. She’ll admit that to herself and her journal. They hooked up once, not too long ago and Heather thought maybe, just maybe, it was good enough for him that it would start something. Start going together.

But Heather’s facade is generally cool, collected, blasé about most things so she isn’t one to beg. She gets most things she wants just from a look. So it stings when she doesn’t get what she wants, but she’s too concerned for her image to do anything about that.

Instead she watches Steve from afar. Sometimes just seeing him, brushing by him, makes her whole day. God. It’s embarrassing, really. So she keeps it all inside, locked up like tiny butterflies in a locket resting on her chest.

They head inside, and Heather steals a cup of the fruity red punch in the kitchen, since she didn’t have time to raid her dad’s alcohol cupboard. 

An hour or so passes before Heather sees Steve for the first time. He’s wearing sunglasses, a black blazer with a black tee underneath. He’s dancing kinda goofily and Heather gets butterflies just looking at him. She heads to the kitchen under the guise of needing another drink, but then just as quickly as he appeared, he’s gone again.

Later, when Heather is two drinks and many boring conversations with boys she has no interest in down, she sees Steve again.

“Looks like Harrington might have his hands full,” Heidi says from next to her, clearly watching him too. Heather gazes across the kitchen, sees Nancy’s pretty face all pale and jarring, her eyes bigger than ever all wet and sad. Steve has his hand on her arm, like he’s keeping her steady. Like she’s out of it. 

Heather feels like getting out of it too, but she’s not sure alcohol is the way to do it. 

They watch as Nancy puts her hand in the punch bowl, and from here Heather can’t see much else but she can hear the commotion before she sees Nancy storm out of the kitchen, a red stain on her top, and the back of Steve racing on after her. 

“Definitely got his hands full. Nancy is so drunk,” Carol says with distaste. 

“Well, it is a party,” Heather adds. 

Carol rolls her eyes, chews her gum. 

“True. I’d be getting that drunk too if I was going with Harrington just as his royal title is under threat,” Heidi says through a laugh, and others laugh too, but Heather doesn’t find it that funny. 

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Heather says just to get away, have some time alone. But when she gets to the bathroom, it’s locked,  and she can hear voices inside. 

Frustrated and only mildly out of it, Heather takes herself outside for fresh air. This party is boring and she will likely sneak off soon if something, or someone, doesn’t make it more interesting.

And that’s when she sees Eddie Munson. 

Her decision is quick. She walks towards him in her ballet pumps across the driveway.

“Miss Holloway. To what do I owe the pleasure?” he says, a lop sided grin on his face, he leans back against his van, one foot up against it.

“You know what,” Heather says, leaning against the van, too. Eddie Munson turns sideways towards her, his arms folded across his slim torso. She eyes him up and then down slowly, once, taking in his tall frame. She’s pretty sure he’s not in a Halloween costume, but he fits right in with the theme naturally, of course. Eddie cocks his head to the side, staring right down at her, and when their eyes meet, she gets this feeling all over, like she likes it.

“Do I? I’m not sure…the Heather Holloway wanting to buy?”

“Hmm. Well. Miracles can happen, Munson.”

“They sure can.”

He pushes himself off the van and dramatically flails his arms, making jazz hands in front of her face. “And this is what I see before me. A ballerina miracle.”

Heather rolls her eyes and playfully slaps his hands away from her. Such a dork.

“Quit playing. Just tell me what you’ve got left and how much.”

The tip of his tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth. He looks cheeky, almost playful and he’s not half as scary as everyone makes out. Not at all.

“Alright,” he says, taking back his position next to her. The music thrums from the house, the not-so-distant sounds of partiers drifting into the night. Heather doesn’t give it long until one of the neighbors calls the cops.

“What d’ya wanna happen tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Heather asks.

“Do you wanna like…go fucking crazy? Derail? Or do you wanna mellow out? And if you choose mellowing…maybe I’ll join you.”

“Is that so? What does mellowing entail for you?”

Eddie pulls out a pre-rolled joint from behind his ear that had been hidden in his dark, curly mane. He lights it coolly, takes a slow, measured toke and then blows it away from Heather, into the direction of the house. Heather follows the small billow of smoke and watches as it engulfs the house from this angle, making it look much spookier than the half-assed Halloween decorations.

“Just a bit of this,” Eddie says lowly. “Probably drive somewhere quiet. Look at the stars. Listen to the sultry, soothing voice of David Lee Roth…”

“That actually sounds nice,” Heather admits. “Even though I have no idea who David Lee Roth is.”

Eddie gasps dramatically, his free hand slams to his chest, the other to his stomach like he’s been stabbed.

“Oh, dearest Heather. You’re missing out, baby.”

It makes her laugh. The light hearted-ness of it all. The drama of it all.

Eddie is fun.

Eddie is quite hot, actually. 

“Am I?” she asks, intrigued about what she’s missing out on exactly.

Eddie closes the gap between them. He takes another toke, blows it sideways but doesn’t remove his gaze away from her.

“I think so, yeah.”

Heather could make many different decisions right now. There’s many that she should make.

“I can’t roll for shit. So if you have anything pre-rolled, I’ll take it.”

Eddie laughs a little, leans back against the car. 

“No pre-rolls. But…I’m kinda done with this place. So, I wouldn’t mind taking some of my precious time to roll for you.”

That’s how Heather ends up in Eddie Munson’s van. This beat-to-shit thing that smells mostly of weed and body spray. It’s nice, strangely homely and comforting. But she still can’t help but feel out of place in here, the pink of her ballerina outfit bright against the leather seats. 

Eddie doesn’t bother driving out of the driveway, but he turns on the engine to play music and he leans over the wheel to use the dashboard to roll.

Heather watches as he does, the tip of his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth. 

“You like what you’re hearing?”

 “Um. Not really?”

Eddie shakes his head in dismay.

“Girl. This is David Lee Roth.”

“Right. Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not sure it’s my thing…”

Eddie is distracted by something happening behind Heather, looking over her shoulder out of the window as she responds.

So she turns to see none other than Steve Harrington himself.

The reason she’s here at all.

He’s bent over, hands on his hips. 

Heather has seen him do this before. Usually during timeout at a basketball match, when he’s out of breath, with beads of sweat dripping down his temples and his thighs shining.

They both watch silently until Steve stands and turns. Hair all disheveled and his big eyes all wet and sad. Like he’s been crying.

“King Steve looks a little dethroned, doesn’t he?” Eddie remarks.

“Sure does.”

Steve looks up at the sky and Heather wonders who he’s praying to. If he’s praying at all. There’s a whole gang of people up the driveway towards the house, their noises not nearly drowned out by Eddie’s music, who ignore him completely. There’s a new “it” boy in town, so maybe no one cares. 

Heather cares, though. Not too much that it’s overbearing but enough for the strings of her heart to pull and tug seeing him this way.

“Maybe we should make his night a little more fun,” Heather suggests. She sees her own eyes in the reflection of the window as she stares out towards him.

“I don’t know, Holloway. Looks like he’s in his own little world.”

Heather knows what it’s like to be in Steve’s world. The feel of his fingertips under her chin. The taste of his tongue on hers. The soft cotton of his bedsheets against her skin.

She ignores Eddie, rolling down the window as Eddie protests behind her. 

“Hey!” she calls out.

Those sad hazel eyes meet hers. And for a second they just stare at each other. Until Steve straightens himself up. Runs a hand through his hair. Wipes the sleeve of the black blazer he’s wearing across his face.

“Hey.”

“What’cha doing, Harrington?”

“Just- I’m… just getting some air.”

“Right. Where’s Nancy?”

Steve looks to the floor, then back at the house. 

Oh.

Maybe they’ve argued? Broken up? It would explain the melancholy aura all around him.

“You wanna join us?”

“Um. I think I’m okay. Thanks, though, Heather.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’m gonna go.”

“We have weed!” she calls out after him. Steve really was gonna go, his back now turned to the van. 

“Hey. Only if he’s paying,” Eddie says.

“You didn’t make me pay.”

“Yet.”

“You’re gonna make her pay for it, Munson?”

“As much as I am aware of the Harrington empire, I’m not sure you’re equipped to be dealing out business advice.”

“I’ll leave the dealing out to you then, shall I? Have a nice night, Heather. Be careful with this guy.”

“Be careful? What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do with her?”

“I don’t know, Munson,” Steve breathes out, suddenly exasperated. “I just wanna get outta here.”

Heather watches as Steve starts to walk away. Disappointment washes over her. She can’t help it. Steve has always been her little weakness, ever since she first sat next to him in the lunchroom, and saw those two perfectly placed moles on his neck.

“Have you been drinking?” Eddie calls out after him, leaning over Heather so Steve has a better chance of hearing. 

“What’s it to you?”

“Pretty sure you shouldn’t get behind the wheel when intoxicated.”

“But being high doesn’t count, right?”

“I’m not high, your highness.”

“Don’t- don’t call me that.”

There’s something wrong, something amiss right now. Heather thinks she’s witnessing a crack in Steve Harrington’s usual easy demeanor. 

“Get in the van, there’s space next to Heather, I’ll drop you home.”

“I don’t need- I’m not-“

“Jeez, Harrington. Hearing the news tomorrow morning that your car spiraled out of control on the roads back to your palace wouldn’t be a shock to me, but it would haunt me forever. Get in.”

-

Steve clutches onto the plastic of the passenger door, his other on the leather between them, pinky finger just gracing Heather’s pink cotton tights.

“Don’t ever talk to me about spiraling out of control again, Munson,” Steve says through gritted teeth as they drift around the final corner to the Harrington household.

Steve smells like the pure fuel punch from the party. Like it’s turned sticky in his hair, or dried out on his tee. She wonders if it splashed on him when Nancy threw it over herself.

“I got you here in one piece, didn’t I?” Eddie says. “Aaaaand voila, your humble abode.”

Heather juts forward as Eddie slams on the brakes right outside the Harrington household. 

Which she knows well.

She’s been here a few times. The first time invited by Tommy Hagan; she had sat by the pool smoking cigarettes with Carol and Steve didn’t speak to her all that much. The second time was a party, not dissimilar from the Halloween party they were just at, drinking and partying and Steve chatted with her in the big kitchen. The third time was the time they made out. Would have been more than making out if they weren’t interrupted. She wanted it badly and hoped to get it, but a week or so later, Steve started seeing Nancy.

Maybe this is her chance.

“Only just,” Steve says. He puts his hand on the door handle, looks up at his house. He pauses. 

This really is her chance if she wants to get inside. She should ask if she could make a phone call. 

“Uh. Thanks. For the ride,” he says after some time.

“No problem, Harrington,” Eddie responds. He drums on the top of the leather steering wheel. He glances over at Steve. “The door handle stuck or something?”

“No…” 

It’s quiet again and Heather searches Steve’s face for what’s wrong. She knows how it feels to be broken hearted. She doesn’t know what has happened between Steve and Nancy but she can take a few guesses based just on the sadness in his eyes. He needs a distraction. He doesn’t want to be alone.

“If you don’t wanna go home yet, you guys could come back to my place,” she offers. “Parents are out at a party.”

“Can we smoke at your place?” Eddie asks.

Heather shrugs. She could probably use an aerosol or light a candle in her room after they leave. Or they could smoke outside. But something inside is telling her she wants them in her room. “We can open a window.”

Eddie’s gleeful smile reappears, cheeky and actually very handsome. He drums the steering wheel again with his fingers, faster this time. “If Harrington is up for it, let’s go.”

Heather turns back to Steve who is staring out the window, his chin in his hand, forehead pressed against the glass. He waves his other hand at them.

“I don’t care. Just get me out of here.”

-

Eddie parks down the street and they walk for a minute up to Heather’s house, through the back entrance in case any of her neighbors see. They skulk and whisper and it’s kinda funny; Eddie is creeping around dramatically like a cartoon mouse and Heather snorts with laughter at it. Steve isn’t in the mood for games, it seems. 

Heather clicks on the lights to the kitchen, offers them a drink, and they head up the stairs with cans of diet coke and a share-bag of chips. In her bedroom, Heather opens the sash window, switches on her bedside lamp and clicks on her cassette player. The Police’s latest album plays from where she left it earlier on.

“Sting,” Eddie says, pointing at the player as he makes himself comfortable on the carpet. 

“Yeah. A problem?” Heather asks, knowing this probably isn’t to Eddie’s taste. 

He shakes his head. “Not at all, Holloway. Sting is-”

He stops himself abruptly, and immediately begins to roll. Heather finds that a little curious but decides not to bother asking for the rest of that sentence as Steve enters the room. He has her full attention as he eyeballs the place, walking around with slow and minimal interest, picking things up and putting them back down. Heather could be mildly embarrassed about some of the objects, like her ballerina snow globe that is now in Steve’s big hand. He can fit the full orb in his palm. He shows it to her. 

“You actually are a ballerina then?”

Heather shrugs, plays it cool. “Used to be.”

“Cute,” he says, almost to himself, then puts it back down. 

“I guess.”

“You still know the moves?” Eddie asks from the floor, a filter tip wedged between his lips. “Do a little dance for us.”

Heather laughs. “No, thank you.”

Steve sits on the edge of her bed. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. 

“Go on. Might cheer The Hair up,” Eddie suggests.

“The Hair,” Steve almost spits in disgust. “Don’t call me that either.”

“Really?” Eddie asks from the floor. Heather sits herself down on the carpet with an equal distance between the boys. “You do have good hair, Harrington. Own it.”

“I do own my hair.”

Heather laughs, thinking he’s making a joke, but he looks blankly at her. “Loosen up,” Eddie says. “You can have the first toke since you need it so badly.”

Heather watches Eddie’s fingers as he finishes the roll and licks the paper with a quick tongue. Then he holds it out for Steve. 

“Fine,” he says begrudgingly. He slips off the bed and sits cross legged on the floor across from Eddie. He shrugs off his black blazer, then takes the joint. 

Heather tries not to stare as Eddie lights it for him, as Steve leans forward with his elbows on his knees and takes a long drag of it. He coughs a little but otherwise takes it like a pro. Heather is a little nervous about being next. She’s smoked weed before but only ever shared a small spliff with Carol a few times. Steve passes it to her, and she takes it coolly, acts like she is in fact a pro. But she takes too much, inhales far too quickly, her chest feels tight and full and she’s coughing a little too hard to pass off. 

“Shit, Holloway,” Eddie mutters, getting to his knees and rubbing her back between her shoulder blades. “You gotta take a small puff, okay? Here, let me show you.”

Still coughing, she passes it to Eddie who proceeds to show her how it’s done. He inhales slowly, just a small one, holds it in his mouth and inhales. Heather nods, watching his mouth, then reaches for it again. 

“Wait your turn,” Steve says cheekily and takes the joint from Eddie. Eddie laughs with glee. 

“Oh, here he is,” he says, plonking himself back down onto the floor. Heather laughs too, glad to see Steve out of his mood. 

They do this for at least three or four songs off the Synchronicity album, passing the joint between them, the boys showing Heather their techniques. She wouldn't normally stand for a guy telling her how to do something but in this case it actually helped. 

“Oh, I feel it,” Heather giggles, this delightful wave of the high swimming through her limbs, making her a little light headed.

“Nice, right?” Eddie says. He seems unaffected to her, but maybe he’s just good at hiding it. Maybe he’s kinda always high.

“Mmm,” Steve hums, nodding as he takes the joint from Eddie and takes a slow, measured toke on it. His hair flops forward as he does so, the quiff he had earlier at the party loosening, strands falling in front of his eyes. Heather has this urge to push his hair back out of his eyes. She sits on her hands to stop herself.

“What’re you doing?” Steve says through a laugh as he passes the joint to her, watching as she has to lift her thigh to get her hand out from under herself.

“Oh. Ha. I was stopping myself from touching your hair,” she says honestly, then cringes at herself for said honesty. 

“Oh,” Steve responds, a confused look on his face, his big eyes turning up in the middle with the frown of his eyebrows. “I mean, you can, if you want.”

He leans forward, tilting his head towards her and she reaches out with her free hand, runs it through his hair. It’s not as soft as it looks, probably from the product, but it’s still a nice feeling to do it. Steve nudges his head into her, laughing lightly.

“You’re like a cat,” Eddie says.

“A cat?” 

“Yeah. You’re practically purring,” he adds. Heather laughs, suddenly imaging Steve with cat ears and a tail. She scratches her pink nails against his scalp and Steve visibly shakes himself.

He sits upright slowly, letting Heather’s hand slip from his hair and fall to the floor. 

“I’m more of a dog person,” Steve informs them.

“I can see that.”

“I like both,” Heather says. “But I think I’m more of a cat. If I was to be one.”

“Really?” Eddie says. “I’d say you’re like one of those little poodle puppies.”

“Why? Because of my hair?” Heather asks. “In that case, you would be one too.” She nods towards Eddie’s curly mane. He tilts forward, copying the way Steve did it before, and she pushes her fingers through his hair, rubbing against his scalp. His hair is softer than it looks. 

“Oh, Holloway, you know how to scratch a guy’s head,” he jokes, making her giggle. Eddie looks up at her with his big brown eyes, pupils all blown out and now she’s imagining him with a little collar and a bell, cute dog ears poking out through his curls.

“You’re cute,” she admits. 

“Cute? That’s new,” he says, then plucks the joint from her fingers and sucks on it, hollowing out his cheeks. He turns around, offering his head of hair to play with, she thinks, so she shuffles forward and starts to part his hair down the middle.

“Really?” Heather asks, separating his curls so she can braid it. “People don’t tell you you’re cute?”

“Errrr. No. Not really,” he says. “Freak is the latest in the repertoire of nicknames.”

Heather looks back over her shoulder accusingly at Steve and he lifts his hands up. 

“Not me. I haven’t called him a freak,” he says, taking one of his hands and reaching for the joint from Eddie. “Anyway, I’m not really friends with those guys anymore.” 

Heather assumes he means Tommy and that gang, since they’re usually the ones calling people names. 

“Why?” Eddie asks. Heather finishes one braid, reaches back to her drawers for a hair tie. 

“Did some sicko shit,” Steve mutters. “They’re assholes.”

“They called Nancy a slut,” Heather adds absentmindedly, tying Eddie’s braid at the bottom.

“Hey,” Steve interjects. “Let’s not, okay?”

“Let’s not what?” she asks, running her fingers through Eddie’s hair in the second part and braiding through it.

“Talk about Nancy,” Steve says quietly. “I don’t wanna talk about her.”

Heather and Eddie look at each other, then back at Steve.

“Won’t say a word,” Eddie says. “Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about me being cute again.”

Steve laughs at that. A pleasant one. His eyes are shiny and wet and he smiles weakly at Heather as he passes her the joint. She takes it with her mouth, holding it between her lips while she finishes Eddie’s second braid.

“Yeah, I’d rather that, honestly,” Steve says. Heather pats Eddie’s shoulders, letting him know she’s finished. He turns, looks at her with a bashful smile, two braids hanging down onto his shoulders. She kinda wants to kiss the smile off his face. She pulls at the braids instead and he bites his lip, then looks back at Steve. 

“Oh, you think I’m cute?” Eddie teases, showing off his braids, and Steve, Heather swears on her life, blushes.

“I wouldn’t kick you out of bed,” he responds thoughtfully.

Heather splutters on the joint. She passes it to Eddie without looking at him.

“I mean,” Steve says, waving his hands in front himself. “I mean…I don’t know what I meant. Ha. You’re not bad to look at, is what I mean.”

Heather looks at Eddie with wide eyes and he’s just sitting there, pursing his lips and nodding like something in his brain has tripwired. 

“Right. I mean…okay! Cool. Thanks for the compliment, Harrington.”

“No problem,” he says slowly.

“I should hang out with you two more often. My ego won’t fit back out through the door,” Eddie jokes, trying to lighten the strange tension in the room but it still feels hot in here suddenly. Steve doesn’t say anything in response, Heather can’t find any words either and Eddie looks between them both. 

“Oh, don’t go non-verbal on me. Please, not yet,” he says dramatically. “I need to catch up with you both. I’m taking your round, Steve.”

Steve motions with his hand like go ahead and Heather waits patiently for Eddie to finish his go so she can take the joint and do something with her hands again. Braiding Eddie’s hair was so nice. She still has the fluttering feelings all in her stomach.

“I think I’m like…having a reaction…to the weed,” Steve says suddenly, scrubbing his eyes.

“Why?” Eddie asks. “Here, have something to drink.” He cracks open a can and passes it to him. Steve gulps at it, wipes his mouth as some of it drips down his chin.

“I don’t know. It’s just. I’m kinda feeling… maybe it’s because of…what happened earlier, but I’m looking at…and I’m…”

“Liking what you see?” Eddie says, a knowing tone behind it. He nods towards Heather then shrugs. “Don’t worry, man. I get horny when I’m high, too.”

“Uh- what?” Steve mumbles. “Is that…is that what it is? I mean, I think it is, I think you’re right,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Right. Just relax. It’s all good,” Eddie says softly, passing Heather the joint. She swallows hard, looking between them both, realising that what she is feeling is pretty horny, right now, too. She looks at Steve and feels a wave of confidence. He had said he was looking and… feeling something. And now Heather is feeling something. They lock eyes, red-rimmed and wet. Eddie said it was all good but would it be okay with him if something happened between her and Steve right now? Then she looks at Eddie, who is still holding out the joint to her, burning lower now. She plucks it out of his fingers, letting her eyes land on his. She blinks at him through her high, takes a quick puff and hands it back to him.

She inhales deeply. Closes her eyes, listens as the last song on the cassette player plays. She hears Eddie stand up, the click-clack of somebody looking through cassettes, he mumbles approvingly and disapprovingly, making her smile, and eventually he replaces it. It’s Bruce Springsteen. Heather can’t remember the album. She’s not even that much of a fan, just buys whatever is popular. She lays back on her elbows and imagines what it’d be like to kiss Steve again, feeling like this. Feeling like she’s floating. Her knees slowly drop apart and she may be dressed like a ballerina but she’s anything but innocent. She wants to be everything but innocent right now. She’s aching to wrap her legs around somebody.

When she eventually opens her eyes again, Steve and Eddie are both staring, like she’d hoped for. Steve’s eyes are hooded. She watches as the corner of his bottom lip tucks under his teeth. 

He doesn’t know that he’s the last person she hooked up with. He doesn’t know that she remembers that he did that last time. Bit on his bottom lip, then he leaned in, kissed her.

Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie. So Heather looks too. Eddie is staring at Steve now. His eyes are all wet and shining like glazed enamel, the dim light bouncing off of them.

He’s really beautiful, Heather thinks. She’d never seen him this way before, not before tonight. She’s always had a crush on Steve but they’re both…lovely. She looks between them. Imagine what it would be like if they kissed? Each other. If they kissed each other in front of her on her bedroom floor. 

Kinda hot.

Really hot.

“What are you two staring at each other for?” Heather asks quietly. Her voice sounds all dreamy in her head.

“We’re not,” they both say in unison. They may as well be shaking themselves and scrambling. Eddie’s cheeks have gone a cute ballerina pink.

Oh.

“It’s okay to look at each other.”

“I think you’d find, Holloway, that we’re both looking at you,” Eddie says. But it’s not totally convincing. He passes Steve the joint.

“You weren’t. You were looking right into Steve’s eyes.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to blush, again, and that really is interesting.

“You know, Steve and I have actually kissed before,” Heather says.

“Is that so?” Eddie asks. He leans forward on his elbows, the two braids hanging down over his shoulders.

“Yep.”

“Well, it doesn’t surprise me. Who hasn’t Steve shared salvia with?”

“You,” Heather suggests, nodding at Eddie.

“What?” the boys say. Steve coughs out an exhale.

“I’m guessing that Steve has never shared salvia with you, Eddie.”

“No,” Steve interjects boldly. He leans forward to pass Heidi the joint.

“No, what? No, I’m wrong?” Heather teases, giggling lightly as a wave of haze hums through her.

“We’ve never…I’ve never,” Steve pauses to cross his arms in front of him. “I haven’t kissed Eddie Munson.”

“Well. Don’t sound so disgusted, Harrington. Jesus. What happened to not kicking me out of bed?”

Heather can’t tell if Eddie is joking.

“No. It’s not... sorry, I guess.”

“Don’t apologize. Not your fault you’re not into guys.”

“Are you?” Steve asks.

Eddie shrugs. He leans towards Steve and pinches the blunt out of his fingers to toke on it himself. 

“All rumors start from somewhere, you know?” he says through an exhale, blowing in the direction of the open sash window which really isn’t helping all that much.

Heather shakes her head and reaches out for the blunt that Eddie happily passes to her.

“I don’t know. People start gossiping from nothing sometimes.”

“Well, in my case, it’s mostly all true.”

“So…you’re like…you’re…you like guys?” Steve asks.

Eddie laughs. Heather watches Steve for his reaction, as his face kinda crumbles.

“Don’t go like…telling people it’s true though, Harrington. I might not get the death penalty for sodomy anymore but it’s still…I’d probably be killed for it either way.”

Eddie is saying it lightly but Heather can feel the tension in the air. The way Steve sits up straight, eyebrows furrowed together. The way Eddie can’t look at either of them anymore.

“That’s wrong,” Steve eventually says.

Eddie rolls his eyes. With his hands on his knees, he starts to push himself up off the floor. Heather sits up too, not wanting this to end, not wanting Eddie or his weed to leave. 

“Shoulda known. Not your fault. I’ll see you around, Holloway.”

Heather reaches out, finding Eddie’s ankle to stop him from walking past her. He looks down at her hand, and then into her eyes. She tries to smile, to let him know it’s okay. She doesn’t care if he likes boys. Sometimes Heather thinks she’d quite like to kiss girls, she’s thought about it a few times.

“No,” Steve says. “That’s not-”

“Harrington. Seriously. It’s okay but I don’t wanna hang out or whatever the fuck we’re doing if you think me liking guys is wrong-”

“I meant…it’s wrong that you’d be killed for it. That’s wrong.”

Heather lets go of Eddie’s ankle as he turns back to Steve.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Steve says, reaching towards Heather so she can give him his go on the joint. She passes him it willingly, unsure which way this is gonna go.

“Right.”

“Kinda jumped to conclusions there, didn’t cha, Munson?” Steve murmurs with cheeks full of smoke. He keeps it in, swallows, blows a little out of his nose. 

“D’ya blame me?” Eddie says, his hand on the back of his neck. He looks a little embarrassed, Heather thinks. She pats the space next to her on the shaggy carpet.

“C’mon. Sit. Let’s get another one rolling,” Heather suggests, wanting to get back to the light heartedness of earlier, not wanting this to end.

Steve reaches forwards, stretching his long arm across to Eddie.

“A toke or two left in this one,” he says. 

Heather watches as Eddie sits opposite Steve, closer than before, and reaches towards him. Eddie is on his knees, crouching forward, fingertips resting above Steve’s on the small joint. Steve doesn’t let go of it.

Instead, he leans in.

He meets him in the middle, and says, quietly, “and for the record. I could kiss you, if I wanted to.”

Heather blinks at them.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She can’t believe what she’s watching, what she’s hearing. Two guys who wouldn’t be seen dead with each other in the Hawkins High corridor inches away from the other. One decision away from their lips touching.

Heather sees it in Steve’s face. The thing that happened earlier with Nancy, the secrets he holds behind those boy next door eyes, the desire she saw once for herself that she can see now for Eddie.

“You’d be so lucky,” Eddie eventually says. Heather is biting onto her own lip, unable to hide her desire from this. Butterflies in her stomach flutter, heading south, wanting desperately for something.

And there is something. She might be high, but she can sense it. The desire between the two of them.

“I would, would I?”

“Yep.”

“Well. Maybe I should.”

“Maybe, yeah.”

“Yeah?”

Steve’s free hand reaches up to Eddie’s jaw. Splaying his big hand wide, it’s tan in contrast to Eddie’s pale skin. Without looking at Heather, he passes her the very last of the joint, and after she takes it, he rests his hand on the other side of Eddie’s face, holding him with both palms. 

Heather smokes one huge inhale that she thinks she’s gonna need if she’s gonna relax while watching maybe the hottest thing she’s ever seen.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers in return. Heather sees his Adam's apple bob, sees his dark lashes flutter closed as Steve leans in a little closer, both of them up on their knees.

And then she witnesses Steve’s tongue part Eddie’s lips. A long stroke of it, salvia and all. Eddie moans lightly which does something to Heather’s insides, her stomach flips, her thighs twitch. Eddie opens his mouth and Steve kisses him properly, tilting his head sideways to get a good angle, reaches into his mouth with his tongue. Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s arms, in the crease of his elbows, holding onto each other as they makeout in front of Heather. Heather wants to touch herself but she resists, and just stares, trying to memorize each and every movement and sound the boys make in front of her. Eventually, it’s Eddie that pulls away. He opens his eyes, lets go of Steve and touches his own lips, now all pink and used.

“I see why girls like you,” Eddie eventually says, his voice cracking. 

“I’m not sure if girls do like me.”

“Girls like you,” Heather says from the floor. They look at her like they forgot she was there. 

“Yeah?” Steve says quietly. He turns towards her. “Do you like me?”

Heather looks up at him, biting her lip, she nods slowly. 

“Uh-huh.”

Eddie sinks back onto the floor. Heather hears him rustling paper, rolling another joint. She sucks one last time on what’s left of their first. Steve takes it out of her mouth, passes it back to Eddie without looking at him. And then Steve is reaching for Heather. Her head drops back as his hand slinks into her hair, half-crawling over her. He nudges his nose against hers, like he’s searching for an answer to a question he hasn’t asked. But he doesn’t need to. She nods her response.

And then she says her response out loud, as he brushes his lips against hers. She says yes out loud, so happy, so desperate. She’s been thinking about this ever since that first ever time. But this time she feels like she’s on a cloud or maybe she is a cloud. Soft and heavenly. That’s how she feels as Steve kisses her. His tongue opens her lips, just like she watched him do to Eddie. She opens up willingly, her mouth and her legs. She hooks an ankle around his, wanting to drag him on top of her but he remains where he is, almost laughing into her mouth. Heather could cry, it’s so good. He kisses her slowly, taking his time with his lips against hers. He tastes exactly the same as the last time they made out, sending shivers up and down her spine and all through her limbs. She feels herself getting wet, wishes Steve would touch her, or maybe she could touch herself as he kisses her. 

He eventually pulls back, giving one last wet, small kiss against the corner of her mouth. Then he sits back on his feet, looking down at her with a smug smile on his face. 

Yeah. He’s still the king after all. 

There’s a click of a lighter behind Steve. Eddie lighting a fresh joint. They look at him. Eddie’s face is flushed, his bangs all messy like he’s been running his hand through them. 

“Did you like that?” Heather asks Eddie, breathless. “Did you like watching?”

Eddie swallows; she sees the motion of his throat, the muscles of his thick neck.

“Yeah. I did,” he whispers, edging closer. “I wanna try.”

“Thought you liked guys.”

“Maybe I like both.”

“You can…you can like both?” Steve asks. 

Eddie nods. “Uh-huh.”

Heather watches Steve as he bites his lip again. He’s looking at Eddie’s lips.

“Why don’t you kiss me, Eddie?” Heather suggests, still watching Steve. “Maybe Steve will like watching, too.”

“Uh. Yeah. I think I would like that.”

Eddie looks between them slowly. He smokes for a second or two, blows the smoke out towards the window behind him. Then he passes Steve the joint.

“Come here, then,” he says to Heather. She moves slowly, her legs and arms feeling like jelly. She’s been in the same position for a while and she’s still shaken from the kiss with Steve. She’s excited, she realises, to kiss Eddie. And for Steve to watch. The anticipation thrums through her, her clit suddenly sensitive against the cotton of her underwear. 

Eddie opens up his arms, inviting Heather into his lap. She straddles him, giggling as she does so, her tutu suddenly seeming ridiculous. 

“Pretty,” Eddie says, laughing a little as he plucks at the net of the flouncy little skirt.

“Wanna wear it?” Heather asks, half teasing, half serious. 

“One step at a time, sweetheart.”

Then, with Heather firmly in his lap, her knees either side of his hips, Eddie wraps an arm around her, reaches his other hand into her hair, and kisses her.

It’s different from Steve. Just as good. Fuck, it’s really so so good. Eddie kisses her hard, but lets her lead. She brushes her tongue wetly against his, even pulls back a little to bite on his lip. Eddie squeezes his hand in her hair, pulls a little to tilt her head so he can kiss her neck. Heather moans, can’t help it, it feels so sensitive and yet so, so light- it makes her dizzy. 

Eventually the kisses slow, and Heather stops moving…realizing that she was grinding down into Eddie’s lap. 

She looks down at him, worried she over stepped. He smiles up at her, then kisses her cheek.

“That was. That was good. You’re, like, really pretty. And a good kisser, don’t get me wrong. But I think…maybe I do prefer guys.”

“You prefer Steve, you mean?” Heather whispers.

It takes a second or two but Eddie eventually gently nods, then looks over Heather's shoulder to look at Steve. Heather slips off of his lap, follows his gaze and sees Steve sitting there, leaning back against her bed, his hand over his dick in his jeans. Heather has to tighten her thighs at the sight of it. 

“You can, if you want,” Heather says, nodding towards his hand, her eyes unable to move away from it. Eddie hums beside her in agreement.

Steve wastes no time in undoing the button on his jeans, only shuffling them down slightly so he can get his dick free. It almost springs up and out, looks big against his stomach. Heather wants to see it up close but he quickly covers it with his hand, big enough to wrap fully around it in a tight fist.

“Yeah,” Heather says, still staring. Steve shifts his hand up and down. God. Heather wants it. She wanted it before but didn’t quite get it. Just felt it rubbing against her, between her legs. 

“What do you want?” Eddie asks him. 

“I… shit. Maybe…maybe we can kiss again? I like… it’s nice. When Heather watches us.”

That’s fine with Heather. That is more than fine with her. She takes the joint from Steve, taking a moment to stare at him lying there on her bedroom floor, propped up against her bed, half of his hard dick sticking out the top of his jeans. 

Then she sits back as Eddie walks on his knees over to him. Steve gets on his knees too, just like he did before, except this time his dick is out of his jeans. Hard and pressing up against his stomach, his tee riding up to show it. Heather relaxes back down and watches as they kiss again. This time freely, a little mean and tough as they press against each other, grab onto each other's hair. Steve even pulls on one of Eddie’s braids as he bites on his neck. Eddie moans, then he looks down and spits onto Steve’s dick. Heather pulls aside her leotard, her panties too, and touches herself.

“That’s- fuck- that’s really hot.” 

Heather is too blissed out to know if Steve means her or Eddie or both. Probably Eddie right now, as Steve looks down between them, watches as Eddie’s spit lands on the head of his cock. But then Steve looks sideways at Heather. 

“Oh. Oh, fuck, Heather. That’s…”

“Yeah?”

“Can I help?”

“Don’t wanna play with Eddie?”

“Oh. Fuck. Yeah. I do. But, you too, I think,” Steve says, looking between them both, a pained look in his eyes like he just can’t decide. Heather is so close to coming at just that, it isn’t normal. 

Eddie suddenly drops down lower, his head level with Steve’s pelvis. Heather moans at the sight of it as Steve pulls down his jeans a little lower, shuffling them under his rounded ass, letting his dick properly spring free. And then Eddie kisses the head of Steve’s dick. Heather swears she feels it on her clit, as though Eddie is kissing her there. 

Steve throws his head back, with his hands in his hair, and he moans as Eddie takes him into his mouth. Heather rubs at her clit, slowly so she doesn’t come too fast. 

“Oh. Oh. God, yeah. Fuck,” Steve moans over the wet sounds of Eddie sucking him. God, this is so hot. Heather sucks on the joint, inhales slowly then leaves it on her bedside table. She’s gonna need two hands for this. She reaches down between her legs, one hand on her clit, the other pushing at her hole, which is wet, unsurprisingly, so wet. 

“Oh. Wait. Heather. Let me. I wanna-“

Eddie pops off Steve’s dick and looks between them.

“Have an idea,” he says breathlessly. He stands and holds his hand out to Heather, who takes it. He pulls her gently up off the floor, walks her over to the bed, sits her down on it. She enjoys the feeling of being handled this way, as he pulls at her hips so they’re just off the edge of the bed. “Lie back, if you want, get comfy,” he instructs her softly. He takes a quick toke off the still-burning joint on the side, then says to Steve, “you wanna eat her?”

“Yeah. I do. But I want…”

“Yeah. I know. Okay so get on your knees.”

Steve gets on his knees between Heather’s legs. Heather could squeal with excitement.

“And I’m gonna fit right here,” Eddie says, pointing between them. “You can straddle me. And…fuck my face.”

Steve’s eyes go wide. Then he’s shaking his head but saying holy shit yes. They manoeuvre themselves and Heather touches herself impatiently, her body shaking with the anticipation of Steve’s tongue. Heather cranes her neck from the bed. All she sees is Eddie laying mostly on the floor, propped up on his elbows, head level with-

Steve moans, and then his head is between Heather’s legs. He pulls aside the leotard and panties, then it’s Heather’s turn to moan as Steve licks his tongue flatly against her. Goes straight in there like he’s hungry for it. He licks long, flicks at her clit, and she throbs against him. Getting wetter and wetter, Steve spits onto her, moans into her. She feels the rhythm of his thrusts into Eddie’s mouth as he rocks against the bed. She wishes she could see. She looks down at Steve, propping herself up on her elbows. His mop of hair shiny and luscious in the low light of her bedroom, bobbing up and down as he licks and kisses at her pussy. She’s so close. But she wants to see, wants to watch Steve’s dick inside Eddie’s mouth. 

“Ah. Fuck, fuck. Heather. You alright?” he gasps up at her, not bothering to slow or stop thrusting into Eddie’s mouth. She sees Eddie’s hands on his ass, guiding him in.

“I’m good. So good,” she breathes. He kisses her once down there, groans as clearly Eddie does something he likes with his mouth, then says,”you wanna move?”

“I just wanna see,” she whispers, almost coming out like a whine.

Steve’s eyes roll. “Christ. This is hot. This is so hot.”

“Have an idea,” Eddie breathes from below her. 

“Thank god for your ideas,” Steve utters, breathless and gorgeously sweaty. 

“Take off your jeans,” he says to Steve. Heather removes her tutu, even though Eddie didn’t tell her to, but she wants to be as naked as Steve, at least. She removes her leotard, too. Steve watches her as she does until she’s just in her underwear. 

“Lie down,” he says to Steve once he’s just in his briefs. He does so on the floor. Heather looks down at him. 

“Okay. Okay, so I’m thinking, maybe, Heather, if you’re okay to, could sit on Steve, like 69 almost, but I’ll be down there. Then you can watch while Steve-“

“Yes. Yes,” she says quickly. She gets on the floor and kisses Steve once on the mouth quickly, he smiles against her mouth, says come here and pulls her onto his face. It takes some maneuvering on her knees but then she’s in the perfect spot. Steve licks her over her cotton underwear, at first, which feels so good. Like teasing but better. She braces herself on her hands, rocking back onto his face. Infront of her, she watches Eddie wrestle himself out of his own jeans then drop to his knees. He gets comfortable between Steve’s legs. Slowly, he pulls at the waistband of Steve’s briefs, until Steve lifts his hips like a girl would, Heather knows this trick, and Eddie pulls them off completely. Steve’s dick springs up and Heather feels a new wave of the high hit her, or maybe it’s just her heightened arousal. She groans, rubs herself down on Steve’s mouth, who moans in response, pulling aside her underwear so he can lick into her. 

“Oh my god. Oh my- holy shit!” She squeaks, unable to hold her words inside as Steve grabs onto her ass and motions for her to ride back on his tongue. Eddie smiles up at her, his pretty face damp with sweat, eyes dark with blown pupils. Then she watches as Eddie takes Steve into his mouth. He groans around it, plush lips hit the base as he bobs his head up and down the considerable length of it. He uses his tongue, licking up the underside holding it, almost presenting it, to Heather. She cries out, rubbing her clit against Steve’s chin, his tongue flicking in and out of her hole, her knees digging into the floor and toes curling. She stares at Eddie’s tongue as it swirls in a circle around the tip of Steve’s dick. Steve moans at that, bucks his hips up and Eddie smiles as he does it. She wishes she could feel it inside of her. She thinks maybe she can just by looking at it. 

Eddie momentarily pauses, reaches up onto the bed and drags down a pillow. He props it underneath himself, then begins to grind down onto it as he takes Steve back into his mouth.

“Oh, god. Eddie. That’s-“

“That’s what?” Steve asks breathlessly, peering around Heather’s ass to see what he’s doing. 

“Shit. Eddie. Are you? Are you humping the pillow?” Steve asks almost in despair.

Eddie nods with Steve’s dick in his mouth. 

“Oh my god. That makes me wanna… oh god. I want-“

“What?” Eddie asks. He kisses the length of Steve’s dick as he waits for a response. Steve wanders with his hands over Heather’s ass. Without much warning he pushes a finger inside of her. She cries out, pushes back, wants more.

“I wanna fuck you. I wanna fuck you both,” he whines. 

“Okay. Okay. Let’s… take a breather,” Eddie suggests. Heather and Steve both whine at him. “Just for one sec.”

He reaches over for the joint, takes a drag then offers it to Heather. She rises up on her knees, but Steve leaves his finger inside her, pushing in and out slowly. She tokes on it, then looks back at Steve, holds the joint to him and he reaches up, lets her hold it to his lips as he sucks on it. So hot. This is like a fever dream. 

“Okay. I know you wanna fuck, Steve, but I don’t want you to go too far your first time-“

“This isn’t my first time.”

“With a guy? In a threesome? High as fuck?”

Heather knows Eddie is speaking sense, but she rocks back on Steve’s finger anyway. He pushes a second inside her, and she keens forward. Feels so good, she’s gonna come so soon if they don’t stop.

“And there’s things we should like, talk about, before,” Eddie says through gritted teeth, clearly affected by what’s he’s seeing.

“So you’re stopping?” Steve asks.

“No. No. I’m not. Let’s carry on. But we’re not fucking that way tonight, okay?”

Heather bites her lip, rolls back on Steve’s hand until he slowly pulls out, and sits up next to her. He looks sideways at her, those hazel eyes all big and sad. Then he’s kissing her softly. She reaches for his dick, can’t help herself, and rubs over the length of it, so hard and weeping. He moans into her mouth.

“Jesus H. Christ,” Eddie groans. Heather laughs into Steve’s mouth. “How is it that I’m the one with any sense right now? You two will kill me, I think. I think I’m going to die.”

Steve laughs then. 

“Come on. Let’s play. I wanna come,” Steve says simply, his boyish charm just vibrating off of him. They better act quick before Heather jumps him. Just straddles him and lines him up and sinks down onto his cock. 

“Yeah. Come on, Eddie. Let us come,” Heather says, turning to look at him, pouting her bottom lip. She still has Steve’s dick in her hand.

“Alright. Fine. You wanna fuck, Steve? Let’s do the next best thing.”

Eddie stands, takes the joint that Heather forgot about still between her fingers, takes a drag then sets it aside. Then he’s shoving down his boxers. Heather swallows down a gasp as Eddie pulls his shirt off and stands naked before them both. He’s slim in his build, has tattoos sprawling across his chest and stomach, small sketchy black ones like he’s done them all himself. In her high, Heather feels starstruck tracking  over each tattoo then down to his dick, cut and clean, pale against the dark, tight curls above it. She wishes he liked girls a little more. She’d love to ride that, too.

He climbs onto the bed. He looks so hot against her pink satin sheets. He pats the space next to him, looking at Heather. She stands, drops her own panties down to the floor and strides to the bed on unsteady legs. Steve follows them, gets onto the bed and kneels before them both.

“Come here,” Eddie directs him. Heather giggles next to Eddie, squirming with excitement, rubbing her feet against the bedspread. 

Steve takes off his shirt, (hot. So hot!) then kneels between Eddie’s open legs.

“Want you to line yourself up against my dick, okay?” Eddie says, trying to sound calm, Heather can tell. She lays on her side, her head propped up in her hand and watches as Steve, who is suddenly very quiet, braces himself over Eddie, leaning on one elbow.

Eddie wraps his fist around them both.

“Oh. Guys. That looks like it’s gonna feel so good,” Heather admits. Eddie turns his face to look at her. 

“You’re not just gonna lie there and watch,” he whispers devilishly. Then he kisses her, simply on the mouth. Heather is so lucky. Then he looks back at Steve.

“Steve, use your free hand on her. And fuck into my fist. Okay?”

Steve nods.

“Say okay, if it’s okay,” Eddie prompts. 

“Oh. Okay,” Steve breathes, eyes dazed, mouth open. 

“Okay, then,” Eddie says then he sighs happily before spitting into his fist and wrapping it back around them. Steve thrusts his hips, slowly at first, and Heather watches as their dicks rub and slide against each other between Eddie’s clamped fingers. It’s the most obscene, amazing, thing Heather has ever witnessed. And then Steve pushes her left hip back till she’s lying on her back. He pats at her thigh until her legs are wide and spread and he pushes two fingers back inside her. 

“Oh my god,” Heather moans, arching her back off the bed. Steve moans, his eyes rolling into his head, and he picks up the pace, matching his thrusts with the rhythm of his own fingers in Heather. 

“This is- fuck- so good, Eddie, you feel so good,” Steve moans in a low voice, breathing fast and hard. Heather looks at Eddie next to her. He’s looking down at his fist, watching the heads of their dicks pushing through. 

“I know. I know,” Eddie groans. “Feels so good. Steve, you’re so good at this.”

“Yeah? I’m good?”

“So good. So, so good, baby.”

Steve cries out at that, thrusts harder, pushes a third finger inside Heather and she groans loudly. The bed rocks against the wall, the mattress bouncing beneath them as they all move and thrust, suddenly, quickly, chasing pleasure. They look between each other, like they can’t believe it’s happening, like this is the best thing that ever happened to them. Heather thinks it actually might be. 

Steve uses his thumb to rub against Heather’s clit, her eyes roll, she pushes up against him, arching so he gets the spot just right.

“Oh, fuck, Heather, you look so hot. You feel so tight,” Steve moans, as he drops to kiss Eddie, who moans into his mouth.  

“Tell her she’s tight again,” Eddie mutters into his mouth and Heather can only guess why.

“You’re tight. You’re so tight, baby. Wanna fuck you so bad.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans. “I’m close.”

“Yeah? Me too. God. Me too,” Steve stutters. He fucks harder into Eddie’s fist, Heather watches him give it everything. She imagines he’s fucking into her, feels it as his hand works magic down below on her, rubbing circles on her clit as his three fingers inside her push and arch up into her. She grinds, moving her hips down as though she would if it was his dick, as if she was bouncing on top of it trying to come. 

“Oh fuck yeah,” Steve says, the muscles in his arm taught, veins showing from moving it with such ferocity as he thrusts his hips at the same time. 

“Oh my god. I’m close,” Heather squeaks, realizing just the look of Steve above Eddie, is exactly how it would look if he was fucking her. She feels it building, starting in her toes, she braces herself, grabbing onto the sheets. Eddie uses his free hand to reach down and cup Steve’s balls and Heather thinks it’s maybe that that sends Steve over the edge.

“Oh. Oh. You’re so tight. You feel so good. I’m gonna come. Eddie. Eddie. I’m coming,” he moans and Heather sees stars as she comes too. Ripples up through her body and leaves her mouth as a sob as she comes and throbs around Steve’s fingers. Shes breathing so hard, still pulsing against Steve’s thumb on her clit. She jolts through the aftershocks and yet she’s just sane enough to remember to watch as Steve comes all over Eddie’s fist and then his chest. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Eddie moans, watching Steve’s euphoric face, and then he follows, arching his back and coming into his own fist. 

Steve collapses down on top of Eddie. He lets his fingers slide out of Heather, but then he’s rubbing her body soothingly, slowly caressing up and down her sides, fingers slowly along her ribcage and then across her stomach. It makes her flinch, giggling at the light tickling feeling. 

“Jeeeesus,” Eddie says. His throat sounds tight. Heather looks up at him. One of his braids has come loose. He looks down at her, bites his lip. “You okay?”

Heather nods. “More than.” She turns on her side, wraps one of her ankles over Eddie’s. She’s not sure if they’re friends now, or if they’ll even ever speak about this, or to each other, ever again after tonight. That makes her feel sad, actually. She watches Eddie’s hand stroke Steve’s back delicately. Steve is breathing heavily into the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“Is he…is he asleep?” Heather asks. 

Eddie looks down at her again, a smile on his face.

“I think so? I mean… surely not? Who falls asleep that quickly after sex?”

Heather bites back a smile. They look pretty adorable together, the king Steve Harrington draped over the freak Eddie Munson. They’re quite the match. A king and his jester, almost. 

Eddie arches his eyebrow at her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispers.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. This won’t turn into a thing. Me and him, I mean,” he says softly.

“Hmmm. I don’t know, Munson. He did say your name as he came.”

“Well. That’s just because he was looking right down at me…”

“Have you heard yourself? Just repeat that sentence to yourself. I dare you,” Heather whispers gleefully. 

Eddie laughs, then. Quietly, trying to stifle the giggles so as not to wake Steve. 

Heather laughs too. She looks down at herself. A sheen of sweat over every inch of skin. She stretches out, feeling a little sore and weak. That was maybe the most intense orgasm she’s ever had. 

“That was so good, right? Like. That was so good.”

“Er, yeah, Holloway. It was,” Eddie responds. “Can you reach the joint? I think I need it desperately.”

Heather can reach the joint, so she passes it to him, then she stands and grabs herself a can of Diet Coke.

“Oh my god,” she gasps. “Drinking that is almost as good as the orgasm I just had.”

“Oh, fuck, gimmie,” Eddie says playfully. He holds the joint between his lips and reaches with his free hand towards her. Heather marvels in the view she has right now, like something out of an indie European movie. Two hot boys butt naked in her pretty pink bed, one of them asleep on top of the other, his delicious round ass all out on display while the other smokes a joint.

“You two are ridiculous,” she says, passing him the can she just took a sip from. She assumes sharing a drink is as basic as breathing to them now after what they just did. “I’m gonna go get clean, now I’m up. I’ll be back soon.”

“Please bring me a towel,” Eddie says with a grimace. “Things are getting sticky over here.”

-

Heather makes quick work in the bathroom. She has the speediest shower she’s ever had and wraps herself up in her fluffy pink robe. She grabs a couple of towels for the boys in her bed. Smiling to herself, she feels a sudden sleepiness overcome her. 

She wishes they could both stay over in her bed, but she knows her parents will definitely check in on her when they eventually arrive home. They probably have another good hour or so before they do. 

She enters her room and they’re in the same position she left them in. It’s quiet in here now. Heather doesn’t even know when the cassette stopped playing. 

“Here,” she whispers, passing Eddie the towels. One is damp, the other dry, so he can better clean himself. 

“Thanks,” he says. He tries to move Steve without waking him, unsuccessfully. He stirs, blinking those big eyes a dozen times before stretching, rubbing his face against Eddie’s chest. 

“Oh, careful, Stevie. Pretty sure your come is there.”

“Oh fuck. Did I just rub my face in come?” He mumbles.

“If it helps, I’m not sure if it’s yours or mine.”

“How would that help?”

“I don’t know…”

They all look between each other and then they burst into a fit of giggles. Heather trotts over to the bed, grabbing the share-bag of chips they hadn’t got around to opening on the way. Steve sits up and Eddie cleans himself, and then cleans Steve, rubbing gently over his shoulders and then his chest and stomach. Heather feels like she’s watching something so intimate, like a married couple caring for each other. Eddie’s eyes are soft as he traces over Steve, checking he’s okay. 

Steve pulls on his t-shirt that he finds on the bed, and then reaches for a pair of boxers that were nearby, that Heather knows are Eddie’s but decides not to say anything. 

“Here,” Heather says, offering Steve some chips and then a coke. He takes them willingly, and they share food for a little while, chatting and giggling on the bed as the high hazes away. 

Eventually, Heather ends up under the sheets of her bed, tucked in by Steve. The boys are now dressed, readying themselves to leave.

“I think she’s asleep,” Steve whispers to Eddie. Heather wants to reply that she’s not but her eyes feel too heavy and her words don’t come. 

“Cute. I hope she’s okay.”

“I think she came out the best out of all of us,” Steve says.

“Are you not okay?” Eddie asks gently. Heather swears to herself that she hears Eddie tucking a strand of hair behind Steve’s ear. 

“I think I am. It’s just a lot. A lot has happened to me tonight.”

“Yeah, I know. We can talk about it? If you’d like? I know I’m, like, the town freak and all but I do have very good listening skills.”

There’s a pause and then Steve says, “you have a lot of skills.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You do. Maybe I could get to know some of your other ones.”

“Like my great listening…”

“Yeah. And any others.”

“Well. I’d be glad to show you some time. Shall I take you home?”

Another pause. “I don’t want to go home.”

“You sure? You can come back to my place. It’s no palace. It’s not even a house, actually. But my uncle works nights so he won’t be there.”

“That sounds nice. As long as…”

“As long as what?”

“As long as this is real.”

“Stevie. This is real. So real.”

“Not bullshit?” Heather hears the final thing Steve says before sleep takes her under.

“Not bullshit,” Eddie responds softly. “Never.”

-