Chapter Text
Fucking late again, Steve mumbled under his breath as he jogged up from his BMW to the radio station he and Robin ran. To his equal delight and horror, he had seen Eddie Munson’s van parked in the parking lot. So the metalhead was here today. A thrill shot through him, not helping his already flustered state. Steve liked Eddie, in the same way someone liked an exotic animal or interesting natural phenomenon. Eddie was as much a person as he was both of those other things: a feral animal and a natural disaster. Steve couldn’t help but feel… electric when Eddie was around. Hot under the collar, paranoid that he was going to make a sudden move, which he constantly did.
Eddie also had made it his personal side project to find a girlfriend for Steve. The reason for Steve’s tardiness actually was another failed attempt in that pursuit. Jennie had been nice, willing to give him head in the backseat of the Beamer. But she didn’t feel right. She was hot, had nice dark curls, but left Steve feeling empty. They had talked for a while about punk rock music as they smoked before Steve cut it off to go home. He had jacked off again, a little unsatisfied with the head, and tossed and turned until 3am, unable to get the feeling out of his head that she could have worked, should have worked. But there was no electricity, that feeling of an oncoming storm. Steve couldn’t remember where Eddie had found the girl, or how he knew her. She seemed like someone Eddie would hang out with.
Maybe I’m the dud, Steve thought to himself as he busted through the front door of the radio station and made his way to the sound booth.
Robin sat in her chair as Whitney Houston played. She spun around and waved frantically at Steve, popping her headset off and poking her head out.
“DINGUS, where were you? I had to call Eddie to give me ride!”
“I overslept! Late night.”
“You had that hot date right? Who, Jenna? Janice?”
“Jennie,” Steve tossed back at her. “Where is Munson?” He looked around as if he was nervous he would pop up behind him.
“In the break room,” Robin informed him. “He’s supposed to be making coffee.”
As if on cue, thunderous footsteps and a voice singing something loud emanated from the direction of the break room. Eddie tore into the room, two mugs in his hand, hair flying, face bright with a smile. He locked onto Steve and his smile somehow grew. “Steeeeeve! Hey, stud, how did the date go with Jennie? I take it the answer is well, since you are late.” He handed a mug of coffee to him and sipped out of the other.
“Uh, rude! One of those was for me!” Robin cut in, glaring at Eddie.
Eddie made a face, “I’ll get you more.” He turned back to Steve and waggled his eyebrows at him.
Steve blinked, a strange heat crawling up his neck. He blamed the hurried walk up here in the June heat. “Uh… it was fine. She was nice.”
“And that was as interesting as paint drying. Details! I wanna know how spot on I was this time.” Eddie leaned against the edge of the booth. He wore another band tee today, and cut-off jean shorts that brushed the top of his knee caps. Steve always thought it odd that Eddie wore such long shorts. But everything about Eddie was, well, weird.
“Coffee please! And hurry, Steve! I need you, sound guy,” Robin said, as the song ended and she slammed the door to the booth closed, scrambling with her headset.
“In a minute! Ugh,” Steve rolled his eyes. “Break room?” He gestured to the direction that Eddie came from.
“Lead the way,” Eddie smirked, pushing off the wall to follow him. “I’m all ears.”
Steve sighed and took a sip of the black coffee Eddie had given him. He made a slight face, but tried not to let Eddie see. “She was… pretty. Gave me head. I… left early though.”
“Score… uh, why’d you leave?” Eddie bumped his shoulder into Steve’s.
“Uh… I don’t know! She just… there was no spark. Definitely visually my type… so good job there.”
“Into alt girls then?”
“Dark curly hair actually…” Steve shot Eddie a look and nearly choked on his coffee.
Eddie was staring at him with those big doe eyes, face beaming, a little too close like he always was.
If Steve wasn’t so sure he was straight, Eddie would fit his type. He wasn’t blind, he could see the soft puppy dog eyes, the hair, even the turn of his chin. Eddie was a good looking guy. It shocked him that no one dated him.
“Why are you single?” It slipped out before Steve caught it.
Eddie transformed into a deer in the headlights. “Uh… weird subject change, but I guess between recovering from bat bites and being exonerated from murder charges, I’ve been a little busy this year. And no one wants to date an ex-satanic cult leader. Plus, uh, I have a kind of specific type, so… you know.”
“Is that why you’ve made me your pet project?” Steve asked, trying to ignore the burning in his chest. What does Eddie find attractive?
“That was out of the goodness of my heart and you being a sad lonely man. Robin griped to me about your sad love life. I took it as a personal challenge.”
“Comforting,” Steve looked around between his coffee, the floor, and Eddie’s intense gaze.
“No worries! I have another girl I think you might like, friend of a friend,” Eddie took another drink of his coffee as they crowded into the break room. He trotted over to the coffee maker and poured another mug of the hot drink for Robin. “Oh, by the way, we’re out of sugar again. Any chance Murray can get us some?”
“I can ask. Anything else you want?” Steve scratched down a note on the scrap paper on the communal dumping table. Half of it currently had the spread out pages torn from a notebook and little mini figurines on it, with a set of colorful dice in more shapes than the usual cube. Steve recognized them as D&D dice, from Dustin showing him so often. “Are you writing something?”
“What? Oh that!” Eddie flashed him a grin and mischievous eyes. “Trying to figure out the next campaign. We wrapped up the last one around when… you know, Vecna terrorized us. With recovery being slow, I’m just now getting around to it.” Eddie put a finger up as if remembering something. “Oh! I did have one request for Murray: Mountain Dew and Marlboro Reds. I’m itching for something normal.”
“I’ll add it to the list,” Steve scribbled it down, with a note “for Eddie” next to it. He put a hand out to Eddie, “Here, I’ll take the coffee to Robin, I gotta do sound.”
Eddie slotted the mug into Steve’s hand. “Right, right! Uh, you got anything against tongue piercings?”
Steve snapped his head towards Eddie. “What?!”
“For girls. I have someone, but she just got her tongue pierced a couple months ago.”
“Never tried anything with a girl with a… tongue piercing.”
“It can be hella fun,” Eddie winked at him. “Kissing’s more… adventurous.”
Steve blinked. “You know this from experience…?”
“I never kiss and tell,” Eddie gave him a mock-offended smiled, tilting his head to the side a little. “What do you take me for?”
Steve shrugged, a little dumbfounded and way too intrigued. “I, uh, never mind… I should… go.” He turned to go with his and Robin’s coffee and scuttled off before he asked any more questions.
“Good luck!” Eddie called after him.
Steve called over his shoulder, “O-Ok!” He felt like crumpling into the ground. How was Eddie more adventurous sexually than he was? He had wined-and-dined almost every girl in Hawkins. Eddie was a nerd, a loser of sorts. How was he pulling girls? He did know a shocking amount of girls, hot ones too. Maybe he was more of a player than he was letting on. Steve wandered back to the main room with the sound booth, mind spinning in circles.
Robin was talking, but the sound was muffled through the booth’s glass. “And next up is a beauty I like to call, “Purple Rain,” by the one, the only Prince.” She put the needle down for the record and set the station to that output, muting herself.
Steve took the opportunity to sneak in and hand Robin her coffee, hand over the top of it. “No sugar, sorry.”
“Ugh, I freaking forgot to tell Murray we needed more… add it to the list?”
“Already done… question: is Eddie secretly a player?”
Robin shot him a flat look, eyebrows raised. “Pray tell your interest in Eddie’s love life! You have two minutes.”
Steve groaned. “He knows so many girls… and like, interesting ones. What pool of chicks is he pulling from that I have missed? Is he outsourcing them?”
“Believe it or not, dingus, there are circles of girls other than preppy, cute, and desperately normal that you pull from. Why, you into alt girls now? Has he presented you with more options?”
“I don’t know! Just… he said something about tongue piercings… ugh, forget it. You could tell if he was a ladies man, right?”
“Eddie Munson is not a ladies man, not exclusively…” Robin had a sort of sheepish look in her eyes as she chewed on the inside of her lip.
“What does that mean?” Steve blinked a double take, his brow furrowing.
Robin rolled her eyes. “Not my place to say… just, ask him about his type… now shoosh and do your job!”
Steve quietly grumbled and put down his coffee mug on top of the sound box.
Robin pulled the music down and pushed her own mic back. “Hello Hawkins! That was Prince’s ‘Purple Rain’, a recent classic. But don’t you fret, we are back in a beat with more music coming up soon. I’m Rockin’ Robin, here with a new announcement for you all!” Robin pointed to Steve for a drumroll.
Steve slotted the cassette in with the effect and played it.
“Our very own, and very loveable, friend E.M. will be dramatically reading excerpts of J.R.R. Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” in a new segment called Read EM and Weep, a weekly slot for the nerds and freaks of Hawkins who have stuck with us through the mass exodus and apocalypse. Forgive the awful pun, my compatriot decided on the name.”
Steve made a face at Robin, and inserted his own sound effect, the “wah wah” noise of disappointment.
Robin waved a hand at him dismissing him. “Stay tuned for more tunes and updates, coming at you live from the Squawk!” Robin faded out her voice into a peppy song that Steve didn’t recognize. She muted herself again and spun around to face Steve.
“Back to your inquiry into Eddie, if you’re so curious, ask the menace yourself! You’re friends aren’t you? You helped him recover when he had the bat bites.”
“By visiting him in the hospital? That’s just common courtesy! I… I can’t…”
“Whyyyy?” Robin groaned, steepling her fingers and tapping them to her chin.
“Have you tried talking to him? He’s in your face, he smells like cigarettes… and he’s…” Steve couldn’t admit that Eddie made him feel seen and that he couldn’t tell if that was scary or good.
“Ugh, give him a chance. Dustin likes him! Why can’t you?”
“Because…” Steve grumbled, his face feeling hot.
“You’re blushing…” Robin’s eyes lit up. “Steeeeve… what aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing?” Steve furrowed his brow in confusion. Why was he blushing? It was jealousy, obviously. Dustin adored, even worshiped Eddie. Steve just wanted that same adoration in return. An equal stake in the young teen’s heart. It was an angry blush, that was all.
Robin raised an eyebrow, “Nothing? You don’t get ‘nothing’ blushes, you’re Mr. Cool.”
“Sure, whatever you say.” Steve rubbed the space between his eyes. “Can we just drop it? Forget I asked.”
“Okay… though, there he is, if you wanna ask.”
Steve tensed and looked up and around.
Eddie had sauntered into the area outside the sound booth that had the couches, close by the windows and the massive sound system that took up the righthand wall. He had his hair tied up off his neck in a messy bun and a book in one hand, his coffee mug in the other. He met eyes with Steve, and broke into a smile. When his hair was up, the scar on the left side of his neck was visible, like a starburst of pinker, lighter skin.
Steve’s stomach dropped and he missed the cue from Robin for an applause. He hated Eddie’s scars. They reminded him of how stupid the guy had been, how much he had put Dustin in danger. All the needless pain and suffering they both had gone through. If he had just listened to Steve, maybe he wouldn’t be missing the lobe part of his ear on that side. Maybe he wouldn’t have to pop pills for chronic pain, and hide it like Steve didn’t see him. Steve decided it would be safer not to look at or talk to Eddie, not today. But the arch of his nose as he sat down and buried his face in his book kept Steve’s eyes flicking up at him. And he had this one piece of black curls that refused to stay in the bun. Steve wanted to tuck it behind his ear to make it stay out of his face: how is that not irritating him?
Robin smacked Steve on the arm. “Hello? Earth to Steve.”
“What?! What…”
“Keep up with the broadcast, my jokes don’t land if you don’t do your snappy sound effects.” Robin shot a look out to Eddie. “If he’s bothering you, just don’t look!”
“It’s not… he’s not… ugggh.” Steve snapped his jaw shut, annoyance bubbling up in his chest. Maybe Eddie was bothering him. Eddie and his wild hair. Eddie and his invading presence. Eddie and his plethora of girls.
After the midday broadcast, Robin had a music section where she didn’t really speak and therefore didn’t need Steve for sound. This was usually the time when Steve did other things, like organize records, put away odds and ends, and get any projects done that Robin wanted. It was also when Eddie usually trailed him around like a lost dog.
The poor guy couldn’t find gainful employment anywhere, after the murder manhunt and everything. So Robin had begged him to work and do a segment at the radio station. The only issue was his job took up only about three total hours a day of radio time. The rest of the time, he loitered around, bothering other people who had things to do. Like Steve.
Steve felt bad for him, really. But when he hovered over his shoulder or leaned into his space, it really grated on his nerves. It also bloomed butterflies in his stomach and made him weirdly nauseous. Eddie smelled like cigarettes and cheap soap, a combo that Steve really had no category for in his mind, and so it stuck with him. Girls smelled sweet or fruity or floral. Guys usually smelled like cologne or sweat. Eddie had his own brand of smell and made Steve linger: he couldn’t tell if he liked the smell or just didn’t hate it. Steve had taken to giving Eddie odd jobs just so he would be busy, and not over his shoulder where he’d have to decide about the cheap soap smell.
Today Steve had told Eddie to organize the vinyls from M-P, while he worked from A-G. Robin constantly had new finds and was moving them around, so the stack of new inventory on the desk had grown. She had put it off for weeks now, and so it had become Steve’s and subsequently Eddie’s job.
“So, uh, I can give you my friend’s number, if you want…” Eddie was saying as he thumbed through the upright vinyls.
To be honest, Steve hadn’t been listening to whatever he had said before the offer. “Uh… sure.” His mind was still locked onto the absurdity that Eddie knew as many girls as he did.
“I think you’ll like her! Emma’s cute, and talkative.” Eddie tossed him an analytical look.
Steve caught the look out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face Eddie, a stack of vinyls in the bend of his elbow. “How do you know all these girls…?”
Eddie blinked and snorted a laugh. “We run in the same circles… usually they’re friends of friends or like the sister of some guy I know. Sometimes, I’ve met them at the Hideout, or at band when I did the whole high school thing. Why?”
“It just seems unlikely that you know so many single girls…”
“Which part? That there are so many single girls in Hawkins, or that I know them?” Eddie crossed his arms in front of this chest.
Steve sighed, not wanting to start anything. “I just think it’s odd that you know so many and haven’t… you know, dated any of them?”
Eddie raised an eyebrow at him. “Who says I haven’t?”
“Have you?” Steve pressed.
Eddie shifted his stance, mouth downturned, avoiding eye contact. “Does it fucking matter?” he snapped, tone clipped and on guard.
“Sorry, I just was asking…” Steve slotted a vinyl into the right spot on the wall. “I’m impressed, honestly. You know so many hot girls and yet you’re somehow still single…”
Eddie cleared his throat. “Funny, I could say the same thing about you.” He dryly barked.
“I’m serious! You’re a good guy, charismatic… I just think you could pull any of these girls that you’re finding for me…”
Eddie pondered this for a while, hastily facing his wall of records and putting his handful of vinyls away. “You give me too much credit.”
“Oh come on,” Steve said, a little bubble of excitement lodging in his throat. He liked this back and forth that he was building with Eddie. “You could get with any of them… any reason you haven’t…any of them your type?”
“No one is looking for a freak like me…”
“Someone has to be into you! No girls at all, really? Just pick one, and I’m sure she’d say yes!”
“I… ugh… can you just drop it?”
Steve froze, nerves suddenly hitting him. He faced Eddie again.
Eddie was fidgeting with the stack of vinyls in his hand, eyes refusing to meet Steve’s. A pink flush bloomed angrily on his cheeks and his wide doe eyes remained intent on the records. His mouth, normally so friendly, had set into a hard line, immovable.
Steve had never seen Eddie like this. “Whatever, man.” He hovered over the Es, scanning for anything out of place. “I didn’t mean—“
“Can we drop it?” Eddie snapped, then flinched at his own tone. “Sorry… just… please leave it alone. I don’t date, that’s the whole of it.”
“Okay… I’m, I’m sorry…” Steve wasn’t sure why he was apologizing other than his gut twisted into guilt at Eddie’s sullen expression. It confused him though. Eddie could get any girl he wanted, he was sure of it. Why didn’t he date someone? He knew the year had been stressful for him. Maybe it was just a matter of time. Maybe, like him, he just hadn’t found the right person, the person who would be the one.
The pair of them kept sorting records, silently tiptoeing around each other. Surprisingly, Eddie finished first. He slid the last record he had into its proper place and sighed.
“I… I didn’t mean to shut off all talking. We’re friends. We can find something to say… I’m just… not ready to talk about my tragic love life…”
“No sweat, it’s okay…” Steve said. He added to himself, You’re nosing into mine constantly though… Steve cooled his judgement and figured there must be something deeper going on. He really didn’t want to tread on Eddie’s toes. The guy would share when he was ready. Maybe he had a toxic ex or something, or maybe he never had the chance to date before.
“Thanks… so, uh, did you get a chance to read the book I recommended?”
“Oh, uh…”
“It’s okay, The Wizard of Earthsea’s a bit… uh, out there.”
“No, no, I started it! I just got hung up on the names. Maybe… you should read it to me? I liked when you read The Hobbit aloud when you came over every day last winter.”
Eddie beamed, a welcome change to his glowering expression before. “Gladly! Still shocked you didn’t get sick of me.”
“What? No! You and Dustin provided much needed company. You know my parents still haven’t come home from their ‘trip’.” He air-quoted the last word, rolling his eyes.
“Bullshit! Ugh… I guess you’re fully an adult so you can live on your own, but still! Your parents just ditching you after the earthquakes…? Sucks.”
“I wouldn’t have been able to have you and Dustin camp out like you did if they didn’t, so excuse me if I’m actually pleased. Plus, I can bring girls over without worrying.”
Eddie brushed his pointer finger off the end of his nose in acknowledgement. He forced a big grin. “Must be nice! I got Wayne at home… so…” He stopped himself, anxiety clouding his face for a brief moment. “Must be nice!” He threw his grin back on and twirled a strand of hair in front of his face.
Steve bit the inside of his lip. He wished Eddie would open up to him. As shitty as he was at picking dates, maybe he could help. Also, at this point, with the amount of time they spent in each other’s orbits, Steve would have liked to think he had earned some level of closeness or transparency with the metalhead. But again, he couldn’t force something like that.
“I really did enjoy you and Dustin being there,” Steve reiterated, extending a peace offering away from the dating topic. “Never liked an empty house.”
Eddie’s face eased slightly, the corner of a smile toying with his lips. “I did too… Felt nice not running from monsters or being stuck in the hospital anymore.”
Steve chuckled a little. “You know that’s right…” Good, back into safe territory for now.
Eddie crossed the room to the desk where Robin had stacked the records and found a small piece of paper. He found a pen and scribbled something on the scrap. With a flourish, he extended it to Steve between two fingers. “Emma’s number. And no… I haven’t dated her.”
Steve opened his mouth to comment before taking the paper and shutting it. A pit formed in his stomach: another person who would probably reject him. He didn’t even look at the phone number on the little square of paper. He could feel Eddie silently watching him. “Thanks… and good to know.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side like he did when he was studying something or someone. “One of these dates will work out. I can feel it in my bones.” He playfully jabbed at Steve’s shoulder with a wild smile and a funny subtle nose scrunch.
Steve tried to ignore the nervous butterflies in his stomach at feeling Eddie touch him, even if it was brief. He fiddled with the edge of the paper before shoving it into his back pocket. “Let’s wrap up with this before Robin hounds us about it.”
Eddie groaned dramatically, still smiling. “Uggh, she will hunt us down if we don’t complete this won’t she?”
“To the grave,” Steve teased, flashing a smile at Eddie, feeling a blush crawl up his neck.
“Then appease Ms. Buckley we must!”
Steve shook his head in amusement as he resumed his task. He only had a few left in his stack, but the desk still had a few, in disarray where Robin had tossed them.
Eddie grabbed those remaining unsorted records and began flicking through them, putting them into a stack as he did so. “These have no rhyme or reason to them… and really, Blondie?” He held up one record, disgust marking his face.
“Robin likes her,” Steve replied as he kept putting records away.
“Much to my horror,” Eddie snidely added. He strode over to the Bs, brushing against Steve’s arm as he did so. “She’s your bestie: inform her of her pedestrian tastes.”
This was what Steve had unyielding happy anxiety about. He was still unsure if the fluttering of his heart was excitement, lack of regular touch, or some third, horrible option where he was scared of Eddie. Every brush, touch of the arm, etc. triggered something in his instinctual brain, but he couldn’t read the signals. So he ended up with a stomach ache and a frog in his throat.
“Blondie is…”
“Watch it.”
“Tolerable.”
Eddie clutched the records to his chest in mock horror and gasped. “Steeeeeve. You need to be educated!”
“Look! I like Duran Duran, and even some Led Zeppelin, okay! Plus, you showed me that one band… uh… Black—“
“Black Sabbath,” Eddie completed.
“That one, AND I enjoyed it! So don’t come for me if on occasion I enjoy Blondie with my best friend.”
Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes like a toddler who didn’t get his way. “Fine, fine. You win. Friendship does trump… musical tastes, I suppose. But if we ride in my van, I have outlawed Blondie.”
“Your car, your rules,” Steve quipped.
“My car, my rules,” Eddie repeated back at him. He passed him again, on the way to the Ms, and ruffled the back of Steve’s hair absentmindedly, eyes not even leaving the record he was putting away.
Steve swallowed hard. Usually only girls did that move. Protest bubbled up to his lips, but died there as he saw the grin on Eddie’s face. He was relaxed with him again, happy. Steve had started to care a little bit less about how perfect his hair was: fighting interdimensional wizards did that sort of transformation. He really only cared when he was on dates these days. Here, in the bowels of the station, shooting the breeze with his newest friend, it kind of didn’t feel as important as that Cheshire grin. He would never let Dustin know though. Chaos would reign if that hooligan knew Eddie was getting him to care less about his hair.
“So you really enjoyed Black Sabbath?” Eddie queried, a cocked eyebrow tossed over his shoulder at Steve.
“Yeah,” Steve honestly replied. “I mean… War Pigs was transformational.”
Eddie lit up, but tried to school his expression. “You gotta try Iron Maiden then.”
“Maybe over the weekend? Or if you bring some to the station, we can pass time listening to it.”
Eddie bit his bottom lip as he kept grinning. “You know how to speak my language! I’m free. Tomorrow’s breaktime? Or Saturday. You know, Henderson has been itching to go to the arcade. We could sit in my van and listen.”
Steve felt his stomach flip-flop. Was he looking forward to that? He felt himself grin. “Saturday sounds amazing.”
“It’s a date,” Eddie blurted out, eyes bright before he was turning back to slot another record in the shelves.
“It’s… a date,” Steve repeated, and wondered why he was excited.