Every day I'm Fangirling!

"Yeah? Guess he found a plug for all that co--"

"Drop it," Robin says.

He does, but mostly because Dustin leaps off the table and shouts, "Eddie!"

"Aren't you going to go say hi?" Robin asks.

His mouth twists without him meaning it to. "Why would I?"

"I don't know, Steve. Maybe you could just try not to hate him."

"I don't hate him!'

"Really?" She snorts. She takes her sunglasses off to look at him.

He chews his lip, isn't sure how to explain. "You think he's changed?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you know. The interviews with People magazine and showing off his house and his dog and his life coach, and the whole thing."

"I don't think he's faking it."

"You saw the picture." He doesn't need to say which one.

"Yeah, but I don't think something that showed up in National Enquirer really counts."

"There were drugs on the coffee table!"

"He wasn't alone."

"Right, cause he was hanging out with Vince Neil and staying sober?"

"I think maybe you could give him the benefit of the doubt."

This is a fight they've already had, one he knows he won't win. He doesn't know how to explain that Eddie's new lifestyle seems like it's only skin-deep.

"I think there's more to it," is what he ends up saying.

After a beat, Robin says,"He looks good."

He does, and Steve can't think about it, has never been able to. It's an attraction he refuses to let blossom. He can't let Eddie be that to him when it's already--whatever it is.

He's let off the hook for replying as courtesy and being guests at someone else's home have them joining the group around Eddie.

---

Steve heads out to his car as the sun's going down, the last to leave. Eddie's standing in the driveway, smoking a cigarette, because of course he is, because of course he couldn't escape without seeing Eddie alone.

"Thought you left hours ago," he says.

"Van wouldn't start, and then I got caught up with Henderson and Wheeler."

"You still have that old thing?"

"Some of us value our possessions, Harrington. As old and rickety as they may be."

He looks at his paint-faded BMW, the dents and rust that accumulated over the past decade and too many monsters. "Sure, man."

Eddie takes a long drag before tossing the spent butt on the ground and grinding it out with the toe of his boot. "So, uh, can I get a ride?"

Steve barely suppresses his snort and doesn't say anything about old and unreliable vans. "You sure you want to? After last time, I mean."

"It's only ten minutes."

"Your funeral."

They're barely out of the driveway before Eddie says, "You didn't seem happy to see me."

He makes a sound with his tongue against his teeth. "I thought you said you couldn't make it."

"Plans changed. You're avoiding what I said."

He doesn't want to get into this. It doesn't matter what he thinks. It--"I'm not sure if you should keep coming around. You can't put Dustin through that again."

"C'mon, Harrington, you still jealous he likes me better?"

"It's not about that." Steve's eyes don't leave the road.

"No?"

"No." He pulls to a stop sign, doesn't say anything right away. Isn't sure he wants to push it. Can't help himself. "I saw the picture."

"The pi--oh, that." Eddie laughs. "You really are such a mom. Those drugs weren't mine."

"Really?"

"You a cop? Yeah, really. I've been to rehab."

"I remember." Steve's laugh is bitter.

"I'm not going to overdose. Jesus Christ."

"I don't think you've really changed."

Eddie lights another cigarette. Steve rolls the window down. "Didn't you read the article?"

"I also saw the coffee table and the lines of coke."

"It's not heroine." Eddie flicks ash out the window.

"Does it matter?"

"Course," he scoffs. "Don't gotta worry about me, Harrington. I'm a big boy."

"I don't. You'll break Dustin's heart."

"Leave Henderson out of this."

"I literally can't."

"You aren't his parent, man. He doesn't have to hate me because you do."

"I don't hate you." Steve glances out the window. Why does he keep having to say that?

"Bullshit."

"And you've always liked me."

"C'mon, Harrington. You know you're stuck up. Spoiled. Spending daddy's money and living without a care."

"Things fucking changed." He snaps. He hasn't been that guy, the one Eddie described, in years. "I haven't spoken to my parents since Vecna one."

"That must be real hard for you."

"This isn't high school anymore, Munson!"

"Sure, cause your problem with me is just right now, just cause of the drugs."

"No, it's that you say you're sober and we both know you're not!"

"I've changed." Eddie's arms cross over his chest.

"Bullshit."

"Why are you always making such a big goddamn deal about me?"

"Because!" Steve shouts. They're on Wayne's street now. "Because you almost died and it nearly killed Dustin, and you keep just--" Steve waves his hand, unable to come up with the words. "You never fucking learned."

"You think I'm not trying? How would you feel if you had to deal with all this, huh? You think it's easy?"

"I have dealt with it. Since 1983!"

"And you were never declared legally dead! You didn't have mobs trying to kill you for a full fucking year afterward. Jesus Christ, Harrington!"

Eddie slams out of the car and Steve follows.

"So, that's why you ran away at your first chance? You thought leaving would erase all of it, and when it didn't you had to do every drug within arm's reach?"

"Like you and your charmed fucking life could ever understand!"

"You aren't the only one messed up after the Upside Down."

Eddie turns to him, fast, bringing them face-to-face, too close. "You don't fucking know anything. You're a spoiled, good-for-nothing prick, just like you've always been."

"Yeah? Well, despite all your self-improvement, you're still an asshole."

"Fuck you," Eddie shoves him.

Steve shoves back, but Eddie grabs him by the biceps, fingers digging into his skin. "I fucking hate you," he hisses.

"I don't give a shit," Steve snarls. He yanks himself from Eddie's grasp. It takes more effort than he expects--Eddie's thin, but strong. "Stop fucking over the people who care about you."

"Don't start pretending you care now."

"I don't. But our other friends do. They believe in you. Don't let them down." He starts to walk away.

Eddie's hand fists in his hair, yanking him back. Surprise and a shocking rush of desire has his knees giving out, and he sways into Eddie's chest.

"Shit," Eddie says. His voice is different, deeper, and rough. "You like this, Harrington?"

"Fuck you," he says. It's too high, too breathless, and Eddie laughs.

"You fuck men?"

Steve shakes his head.

"You like to be fucked by men?"

He nods, slow.

"You like it a little rough?"

He freezes. How could Eddie read him so easily, how could he know, how--Eddie tugs at his hair, hard, and it brings them close enough their lips are nearly touching.

"You know how often I think of holding you down and fucking you until you can't move?"

It wakes him up and Steve pulls against the hand holding him until tears burn at his eyes. "I know you're all talk."

Eddie laughs again, low, dangerous, sending shivers up Steve's spine and a lightning bolt to his dick.

"I'm gonna fuck you stupid, sweetheart."