Cas

“Jesus, has all the feedback from your amps made you deaf? Or did the headbanging liquify your brain or something? No.” Steve stopped short when he noticed Eddie at the end of the aisle. “Cornering me won't change my answer. You have six overdue tapes between the four of you.” He put back a copy of Peggy Sue Got Married before barrelling down the aisle, stack of tapes in hand. “Move,” he snapped a foot short of Eddie.

“Where are your manners, Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step aside. 

“Out the window,” he said, knocking Eddie's shoulder with his own. “With my patience and my last nerve.” 

Four sets of footsteps followed him into the next aisle.

As he picked up the next tape, a copy of Sid and Nancy, the whole of Corroded Coffin surrounded him.

“Come on, Steve,” Gareth begged. “I'll bring back the other tapes I owe you tomorrow. Promise.”

“Yeah, me, too,” Freak pleaded.

Jeff shrugged when Steve eyed him. “I returned my tapes on time.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Drop box at the last possible minute-”

“Counts,” Jeff interrupted. “My record is clean.”

Eddie, Freak, and Gareth shared a look before grinning.

“Please, Steve?”

“Yeah! Jeff's a good boy.”

“We can check it out under him!”

“Jesus.” Steve set the pile on a half open shelf before turning to them. “Your four are worse than Henderson’s gaggle of shitheads!”

They all stared at him, wide eyed and hopeful.

After a moment to even his breathing, Steve caved. “Go get the goddamn tape.”

“Yes!”

“If Keith finds out about this-”

“We're dead,” they chorased, running off.

Though, Eddie stayed, smiling slyly. 

Rocky Horror had been missing from the shelves of Family Video for well over a month. Mostly because Eddie Munson was a hurricane who didn't understand due dates. Primarily because Steve Harrington had no backbone when it came to Eddie Munson. “I won't do it again.”

“Oh, come on.”

“I've already been through the ringer for their missing tapes. I told you last time, I need the physical copy to change the return date.” He gestured with his hands as he continued. “I check it in, then I check it out again. Simple mechanics, Munson.”

“Yes, but last time, you used that pretty computer of yours and overrode it anyway.”

Steve sighed, grabbing his stack of tapes. He walked off, not bothering to argue. He would have already done it by now if the four of them hadn't run in like bulls in a China shop.

“Is that a yes?”

Happy to be facing away from the aisle, Steve didn't bother to hide his grin. 

“Come on, Stevie! Please?”

“Go get a candy, Munson,” Steve mumbled, smiling to himself when Eddie cheered from behind him.

“Yes!”

“You need to bring it back eventually.”

“We’ll see,” Eddie said, voice lilting playfully as he raced by to the check out counter.

Steve had been out in the sun all day, lathered in sunscreen at Robin's behest. Happy to lounge around in the heat, like the animal he was.

Max, Nancy, and Robin had laid out beside him for hours like a handful of grapes for the California Raisins company.

Eddie had spent the day in and out of the pool with the younger Hellfire members and their- rather extended -friend group. Intermittently, he had run over with a random hey, Steve and a quickly and utterly awkward retort.

Oddly enough, Steve had eaten it up. 

Even though only the band and Steve remained, Steve had laid out on his lounger long after the sun went down.

Eddie had changed into clothes sometime around the time Henderson and everyone else went home.

“You think he’ll ever say anything?”

Freak shook his head. “Maybe Harrington-”

“No way,” Jeff interrupted. “He’s wound too tight. Eddie’s got looser lips than Deep Throat.”

Freak raised a brow.

“Yeah, you know what I meant.”

“Maybe we could get Eddie drunk-”

“Whatever you're about to talk him into-” Gareth said, taking a seat between them. He popped the cap open on another beer before taking a sip. “No.”

Jeff glanced over at Freak, grinning.

“Hey! Wait!” Eddie screamed from the other side of the pool. He laughed, clinging to Steve as he was held at the edge of the pool, arms wrapped around Steve’s neck. Feet firmly off the ground. “Put me down!” he laughed, fingers digging into Steve’s shoulder.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Freak grumbled.

“Insane,” Jeff said. “Both of them.”

“They're unbelievable,” Gareth agreed.

Steve flashed Eddie a grin before taking a step forward.

Confusion and then panic flashed over Eddie's face before the rising water level swallowed them whole.

“You want a beer?” Gareth mumbled, reaching into the cooler behind him.

“No,” Freak said, taking another drag. “Actually,” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke that flew off away from them. “You know what? Yeah, why not?”

Eddie surfaced with a gasping breath as Gareth passed Freak his beer. “You're a jackass,” Eddie screamed, treading towards the stairs. His hair lay over his eyes, making him look like a wet dog.

“Oh, come on!” Steve laughed, following after him. He managed to beat Eddie out of the water running after a towel.

Eddie waved him off when he got closer. “Fuck you and your towel, Harrington!”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“After taking me for a swim?” Eddie asked sarcastically. “Why I have half a mind-” He cut himself off, charging towards the house.

“Where’re you going?”

“To take a nap in your bed. I'm not changing by the way!”

Wordlessly, Steve chased after him. 

When Eddie realized he had a tail, he took off. Unfortunately, Eddie was no match for the track star that was Steve Harrington. 

The boys sighed, turning away.

No one flinched when Eddie screamed before breaking into laughter again.

“Think we can talk Steve into S’mores?” Gareth asked. “You know, after they spend way too much time changing and come back acting all secretive and shy?”

Freak huffed. 

“Definitely,” Jeff said.

They all sipped on their beers.

That’s not too bad. Eddie’s twenty-three; if he’s fooling around with someone, it’s not Wayne’s place to intrude even if he wanted to.

The second time he sees it, it’s parked outside Claudia Henderson’s place. That still isn’t odd—Eddie and her Dustin run in the same circles. What Wayne isn’t counting on is who’ll walk out the front door just as he’s passing the house.

Steve Harrington waves over his shoulder to Claudia, who laughs at something he said while he climbs into the driver’s seat.

Since when does Harrington’s boy drive a truck? Wayne thinks, followed by, My Eddie is fooling around with Harrington’s boy?!

Wayne isn’t going to butt in, but this is one of those instances that reminds him despite how loud and uninhibited Eddie is, he’s far from a great communicator. Steve’s never been anything but polite to Wayne in passing, but he can’t help worrying about the implications of the two of them sneaking around.

The third time Wayne sees the Chevy, it’s back in his driveway. He steels himself to enter the house.

Eddie greets him with an enthusiastic, “Wayne!” Steve stands beside him.

“How’s it going, Ed?” Wayne tries.

“Great. Listen, I…want you to meet my boyfriend. Steve.”

Boyfriend. The word fills him with relief. It’s serious enough; it means something. 

Steve smiles and offers a handshake. “Sorry it took so long. I’ve been begging Eddie to introduce us for weeks.”

She brings over a bowl of soup and a grilled cheese sandwich, setting it down right on the colorful metal surface. The sandwich is only a little burnt, and is cut into four little squares, with cheese oozing out.

He's happy to see both of them. Steve is running a tight ship on who gets to help take care of him. Hell, Gareth only got clearance a couple weeks ago. So two more new faces is nice. He thinks that must mean he's doing better. 

That, or Henderson just annoyed the fuck out of Steve until he relented.

"Thank you for sharing your toys with me, m'lady," Eddie says, picking up the spoon Dustin had brought him. It's harder than he'd like it to be. It still shimmies in his hand, shaking as he tries to guide towards the bowl of what he assumes is Campbell's tomato soup.

He grips his wrist with his other hand, his better hand, and tries to steady it. He could just try to learn to eat with his left hand, but he wants to play guitar again, so his fucking right hand has to cooperate. That's just how it's gonna be.

It's gotta learn how to work again.

Eddie would be embarrassed, but he's been poked and prodded, and seen at his weakest ever since the bats gnawed the shit out of him. This is nothing in comparison. Showing a little weakness to two kids that love him, for some insane reason, is barely a blimp of embarrassment.

Nothing like Wayne and Steve bathing him after bringing him home from the hospital. That had to be the last true embarrassment he had. Steve Harrington carefully wrestling him onto a bath chair, and then holding him steady in the tub while Wayne scrubbed his back was just the final straw of privacy. Even if Steve had laid a wet washrag over his crotch. Like that was gonna make it all better, and more normal.

It certainly was not.

Steve clucking about Eddie's wounds, still not healed, even after being released from the hospital. Bandages were changed. Creams and lotions applied. Medications carefully administered.

A watchful eye that hardly ever left his sight. 

It was weird, until it wasn't. Now, Steve's just part of his daily routine. And Steve can bathe him all by himself, trusting that Eddie will be able to hold onto the chair while Steve scrubs and rinses his hair.

Tomorrow is bath day again, and Eddie knows he's getting a little ripe. All the deodorant in the world just won't cover it up. Not totally.

Maybe soon he'll graduate to standing in the shower all by himself, but that day just isn't here. Not quite yet.

Today, he eats while Henderson and Erica argue just to hear their heads rattle.

"You little shits had better have taken good care of him," Steve snaps, breezing into the room, dropping his jacket on Eddie's desk. Well, in theory it's Eddie's desk. He's never sat there, not for a minute. It's Steve domain right now. Hell. Most of the room is Steve's domain.

In the early days, while Wayne was working overnights, Steve would lay out a sleeping bag on the floor, staying close, for when Eddie was bound to wake up from the nightmares. These days, he's graduated to his own bedroom. Mostly. 

This house has three of them, and it didn't take long for Eddie to realize Steve had just moved on in.

"Jeez, way to have faith in us," Dustin whines, and Steve ruffles his hair, pulling him close.

"Lunch was edible?" Steve inquires. 

Erica has her hands on her hips, and Eddie is absolutely certain there's only one answer to that question:

"Fantastic. Erica made pie," Eddie says, and she nods, as if he's passed the test she was administering. 

Steve nods, and sits on the edge of Eddie's bed, hand curling around Eddie's blanket-covered shin, squeezing.

It's nothing. And everything.

There's been no moves made. But Eddie feels like maybe there might be whenever Eddie's back on his feet again.

It's a good motivation to keep getting stronger. 

"I rented some movies—"

"—yes!" Dustin interrupts.

Steve ignores him.

"Adult movies."

"Ew," Dustin adds, and Steve is clearly getting frustrated, waving his hands.

"Jesus. Not like that. Just not for children," he clarifies, and Eddie tries to bite back his smile, just letting Steve continue to dig this hole for himself.

Steve sighs.

"I brought your own tapes. Take them and go," Steve finally says, defeated. He always gives into them, and honestly, Eddie loves that he does. They're good kids.

"You're not gonna give us a ride?" Henderson whines. Eddie knows how this ends. Of course Steve's gonna shuttle them around.

Steve looks at Eddie, tilting his head, then squeezes his leg once more, before grabbing his jacket, herding the two kids away, towards his car.

"I'll be right here awaiting your imminent return!" Eddie shouts.