smithereen

"Notice what, man?" Eddie says. It can't be anything to do with his big secret, because Eddie has been carefully rationing his glances at the hickey on Steve Harrington's neck. The hickey Eddie left last night. Because they were necking. On Steve Harrington's bed.

Steve hasn't so much as looked his way all morning, but that's what he said he'd do. We should act like nothing's changed, he'd said, and Eddie had told him it was a good idea. They've already agreed to meet up at Skull Rock after dark.

Christ, Eddie hopes he'll show. It can't have been just a one-time thing. Can it? They barely did anything before Steve's parents came home unexpectedly and Eddie had to sneak down the hall and shimmy out a window.

What little they did was so good. Steve's an amazing kisser.

"The staring," Jeff is saying. "The guys might notice! Or, hell, Harrington might notice!"

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. "I wasn't staring at anything!" Eddie says. "And— what do you mean, Harrington might—?"

Jeff shakes his head. "It's the Jack Sewell thing all over again," he says. "You were obsessed with him, too."

"Obsessed?" Eddie says incredulously. "I had a healthy level of disdain, okay—"

"Eddie, c'mon," Jeff says. He's got his patient face on, which is not helping quell the panic clawing its way up Eddie's throat. "I have eyes, man."

"Okay, but this is different," Eddie says, and then throws up a hand with lightning speed to ward off the way Jeff's eyebrows tilt up. "Not that I am conceding the Sewell thing at all, I just mean—"

"I guess it is," Jeff says, frowning at the floor like he's puzzling something out. Which he absolutely should not be doing.

"Stop that," Eddie says. "Stop thinking whatever it is you're thinking."

"You're different around him," Jeff says. "Harrington. You look at him like—"

His eyes go wide just as Eddie's sweaty palm presses over his mouth.

"Mmph!"

"Don't!" Eddie says, frantic. "Don't you fucking dare."

Jeff gooses his side, which is unfair when he knows how ticklish Eddie is, and steps back just far enough to squeak: "You're in love with him!"

"Shut up!" Eddie hisses, blood rushing to his face. "No I'm not! Fuck you!"

Jeff looks every bit as horrified as Eddie feels. "Him, Eddie? Steve Harrington? Seriously?"

"No!" Eddie says, thinking fast. Who did he last see hanging off Steve's arm? "I'm— Brenda Carlisle! I like Brenda, okay? And she likes Harrington! I'm just— trying to figure out why so I can snag her!"

"Bullshit!" Jeff says. "That's— I've never seen you check her out. You never check out girls."

"Yes I do!" Eddie says, mouth dry. He can't be that transparent. There's no way. "I— that time at the pool last summer with those cheerleaders— and— and I'm the one who bought all those skin mags we keep in the van! I check out girls all the time!"

Jeff's clearly not buying it. "It's cool, you know," he says. "I've known you for years, man, I know you wouldn't— make a pass at me, or anything."

Eddie closes his eyes, and when that's not enough he screws up his entire face. "Jesus H.," he says, scrubbing both hands through his hair. "You know what, I'm out of here." 

He turns on his heel, but Jeff darts ahead, half-blocking the door. "Hold on, wait. You're still coming to practice, right? We have that gig on Thursday—"

Eddie sighs so hard his lungs are in real danger of collapsing. Can't even make a dramatic exit in peace. "Of course I'm coming to practice," he huffs. "I'd never jeopardize the band, man."

"Okay," Jeff says, raising a hand to clap Eddie's shoulder and freezing in mid-air, hovering awkwardly before he redirects to rub at the back of his own neck instead. "That's— that's good."

Great. Jeff thinks he's contagious. "Alright, man," Eddie says, setting his jaw. "See you around."

Jeff grimaces. "Shit, no, wait," he says, and then he holds out his hand for a handshake. Like a huge fucking dork. Jesus Christ.

Eddie looks to the heavens, but he takes Jeff's hand. He's not an idiot. This is kind of a monumental thing, here.

"Friends?" Jeff says.

"You know it," Eddie says, and ignores the way his eyes threaten to get hot. "And just for the record, I'd rather die with my dick untouched than make it with any of you losers."

"Wait," Jeff says, at the same time as Eddie's brain catches up with what just came out of his mouth. Stupid fucking— "You're still a virgin?"

"I'm leaving," Eddie says, dropping Jeff's hand like it's a dead fish and powerwalking out the door. "Goodbye!"