#madaboutmunson

“He’s only playing to spite me,” Mike grumbled folding his arms.

“He asked if we wanted some help, and genius Mike here laughed and said he had too much hairspray in to be on the boy’s team,” Lucas griped, “Now he’s kicking our ass, especially with his stupid rules.”

“Stupid rules?” Eddie asked with a deeper sigh. He was not interested in the game itself but he figured they weren’t moving, so he might as well get the gossip.

“Every time he gets the stump he makes up a rule so none of us can tag him,” Mike scowled.

“Huh? You can make up a rule that you can’t be tagged? Sounds like a glaring pit fall in the rules system here,” Eddie chuckled.

“No. He’ll say we can only tag him if we compliment him, or tell him he’s the best, or sing, or something,” Lucas added.

“Sounds pretty easy to me?” Eddie said looking between the three high-schoolers pausing for them, but its clear all the running had put their brains out to lunch, “Just say the thing.”

“NO WAY!” They yelled in unison.

“If you wanna win, sometimes you gotta swallow your pride guys. Now if you could stop casting your shadows so I can catch some rays, and take your putrid aromas with you, that would be splendid. Thanks.”

The three of them huddled up. Eddie could hear them muttering.

“What if we got you some beers?” Dustin asked, “Or a new D&D module?”

“Where are you pipsqueaks gonna get alcohol from?” Eddie laughed.

“The Christmas stash my mom has, she won’t notice anything is missing, Nancy, has taken a whole vodka bottle from it before,” Mike replied.

Eddie sat up, “I’m listening. Why do you wanna win so badly anyway?”

“At first it was for a bag of candy and who gets to choose the next film at the movies, but now we just really wanna beat Steve, he’s mocking us out there.”

Eddie peeked around the trio and true enough Steve Harrington looked pretty damn pleased with himself, and pretty damn cute. He was wearing very fitted athletic shorts and a snug white tank top that clung to his broad shoulders, as anyone in their right mind would being doing that close to Steve, sweat patches making it almost translucent in places, with his chest hair poking out the top. If that wasn't bad enough he was celebrating by flexing his muscles to mock the boys. Eddie took a deep inhale of breath, because he didn't realise he had been holding it.

“Alright, I’ll win it for you, but I don’t wanna hear a peep out you three begging me for shit the rest of the summer. Got it?”

They nodded in unison as Eddie got up, dusted off his denim cutoffs and tank top and pushed his sunglasses into his hair.

“Let’s take down a King,” Eddie grinned with malevolence.

Steve frowned as they approached the field again, “Munson? You joining us?”

“Yeah, thought I’d even the teams out. I heard the numbers were uneven?”

“And you’re the one to bring balance to the game?” Steve asked raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Eddie said confidently, with his hands on his hips.

A laugh bubbled out of Steve getting louder until he was doubled over.

Eddie’s lip twitched, but he keeps his cool, “Well are we playing or what?”

The teams spaced out, and Eddie flexed his fingers, and bolted for the stump as soon as Robin blew the whistle.

His team mates flanked him but each of them fell, tackled by Max, El, and Erica.

Just as Eddie was about to leap for the stump Harrington beats him to it.

“Freeze!” Robin shouted and Eddie sneered at being stuck in place, “Go ahead, Steve.”

Harrington tapped his chin thoughtfully, “You can only tag me if you recite me a poem.”

There was a collective groan, but Eddie grinned.

“Ok unfreeze,” Robin called out, and Eddie hopped up on the stump crowding Steve.

“Roses are red, Violets are blue, Sugar is sweet,” he said smoothly before looking over Steve, “But not as sweet as you big boy.”

Steve didn’t budge, looked confused at Eddie.

“Stump is Eddie’s,” Robin officiated.

“No that’s didn’t even rhyme properly!” Steve complained at Robin.

“Poetry doesn’t have to rhyme,” Eddie smirked.

“Yeah it does!” Steve frowned.

“Steve I made my ruling. Eddie gets the stump, and the longer you stand there whining the more time you waste. You’ve got less than five minutes left.”

Steve huffed down his nose and stomped back to his starting position on the field.

“Eddie, your rule?”

“Uh that’s easy you have to tell me I’m real pretty.” He smiled wide and batted his eyelashes, as the girls rolled their eyes.

Robin shook her head but blew the whistle anyway. The others charged towards the stump. Harrington was way too fast for anyone to get there before him, and he slapped Eddie’s leg with his hand.

“Tag, stump’s mine,” Steve said.

Eddie looked down on him with glee, “Uh-uh you gotta say it.”

Steve’s face was a picture, contorting with effort as he looked up at Eddie, “YOUREREALPRETTY” he said quickly and weirdly loudly.

Eddie tossed his hair with his hand, “I didn’t know you cared Harrington.” Steve blushed hard. He smiled toothily and hopped down from the stump sauntering back to his starting position with no complaint, he knew the clock was ticking.

“What are you doing?” Dustin said through gritted teeth, “You said you’d win.”

“Oh but I am,” Eddie smirked and gestured to a confused looking Steve and Robin tapping her watch at him.

“Ok! Ok. It’s hard to think of one. Alright! Geez! You have to say...uh...you have to say I’m the smartest man in the universe.” Steve said and gathered up the girls for a huddle and pointed at Eddie.

Robin blew the whistle, and Eddie nimbly dodged the flying tackles from the girls. They were fast, but Eddie had that feral energy coursing through him now. He got to the foot of the stump and spanked Steve’s backside. “Tag,” he said slyly and grabbed onto Steve’s hips to hoist himself up onto the stump.

He looked right into Steve’s eyes, “It’s my stump, smartest man in the universe,” punctuating his words with a wink.

Steve didn’t say anything, just stared, dropped off the stump, and went back to the starting position. Eddie knew he’d rattled him and the next thing Steve wouldn’t do. No way.

“Eddie! Rule?” Robin said a little exasperated

“A kiss,” Eddie said.

“No way there are kids here!” Robin said.

“I didn’t say they had to kiss me directly, they can blow me a kiss”

Robin turned to the kids. They were all yelling at her about the time and didn’t seem to care.

“Alright, but for the record, I’m against this” she reluctantly blew the whistle, and just like Eddie predicted Steve was thrown, he was tackling the boys hoping one of the girls would head for the stump but they wouldn’t go for it.

Eddie looked smug, striking a mock-heroic pose as he flexed his much smaller, toned muscles with theatrical pride, fully aware of the irony. He grinned to himself, already picturing how he was going to be sipping cocktails on the porch tonight. His thoughts were broken by an angry Erica screaming, “Just do it sailor man! Go over there and blow that long haired freak a kiss!”

“We’ve only got ten seconds left!” Max complained shoving Mike to the floor.

“Yes Steve I don’t want to watch the same movie all summer,” El said.

The boys understood the assignment and made kissy noises at Steve to mock him.

Eddie rocked on his heels with a huge smile as he watched the last few seconds tick down.

Until he felt a slap on his hand and he was confronted with a furious Steve

Eddie raised his eyebrows with confidence, “Well Howdy there Big b-“

And before he knew what was happening, he heard a collective gasp and “Steve’s stump! That’s time, come on nerds,” Robin added.

Eddie felt pressure on his lips, heat on the sides of his face. Steve was kissing him and was grabbing his face. He was rendered speechless. Steve smiled. Eddie suddenly felt hands on his shoulders as he was pushed off the stump and landed on his ass with a thud, almost as hard as his heart was hammering in his chest.

He could hear the boys complaining and the girls cheering. He shrugged at them in apology, heart pounding and face burning, trying to suppress the chaos spiralling in his chest from that kiss. He pulled down his sunglasses and quickly tried to walk back to his van, before he had a public crisis.

He was nearly at his sanctuary when he heard the rapid footsteps on the gravel path behind him, “Hey! Wait up!”

Eddie’s stomach dropped to the depths of the abyss, twisting with something hot and familiar. Dread, maybe, or anticipation. He couldn't tell. He could run, but that would look worse. He stopped and turned on his heel.

“You didn’t shake my hand,” Steve frowned a little out of breath.

“What?” was all Eddie could manage.

“We beat you, we're supposed to shake hands after. No hard feelings. Sportspersonship stuff.” Steve tried again, extending his hand towards Eddie.

“Oh, yeah. No hard feelings here. It was literally just tag, man. You’re good.” Eddie laughed it off, eager to get away.

“You won’t shake my hand? Is it because of what I did?” Steve asked and Eddie could hear the shame in his voice, and he couldn’t have that. Not with those sad puppy dog eyes looking so wounded at him.

“Look. I set the rule. You just wanted the win real bad,” Eddie said, trying to sound breezy, though his voice wavered just enough to betray the heat still lingering on his cheeks. "It’s not a problem,” Eddie said and extended his hand.

Steve's smile brightened as they shook on it but as Eddie tried to let go, he found Steve gripping his hand tightly.

“You okay, Steve?” he asked and found himself pulled flush with Steve’s chest, their faces an inch apart. As they collided he was met with the full Harrington experience. The beauty marks, the crooked smile, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the soft swoop of his hair, the heat from his body, and that scent of sun lotion, cologne and sweat. It's enough for him to forcefully replant his feet, so he didn't collapse with how overwhelmed he felt.

“I would have done it sooner without a crowd,” Steve said gently.

“Shook my hand?” Eddie asked nervously, confused but he knew what Steve was getting at.

I was having trouble sleeping, and then I started getting these weird ass dreams. Not like weird-cool, like after too much cheese, chocolate or weed (He’s drawn a picture of a joint here), but like weird, as in they were really fucking normal. I mean normal, like TV family normal, like the Brady bunch, but way less people, not like reality normal.

Well, at least at first. Sometimes they aren't so nice. Sometimes they reminded me of living with my folks, and that FUCKING SUCKED!

Anyway, I told the font of knowledge that is Wayne about these weird dreams and at first, he was like, don't worry about it, but then he told me this bit of folklore and it was something like your dreams are the memories of your soulmate, so I thought I'd start writing them down. Like campaign clues to figure out who it might be? Unless one of their memories is looking in a mirror, I'm gonna need all the clues I can get!

So far, I think that I'm like a little kid, and there are a few people that show up. One is a man who looks real fancy, probably loaded. I guess he’s the Dad? He’s mostly always in a shirt and tie, sometimes one of those Dad polo shirts that he probably wears to golf with his yuppie friends. Well, bad fashion aside, proves one thing at least, being richer wouldn’t have got me a better Dad because the guy is a grade-A star fucking asshole! He’s always holding some object in his hand, a broken picture frame, a Barbie, a book, a glass of whiskey, shoving it towards my face and yelling like I just pissed in his cereal or something. WHAT A DICK! I can feel my soulmate wants to cry but is holding it in. I’m not sure how. Maybe she’s small for her age? The Dad guy is at least 2 feet taller than them. No way someone with that good a life would shout at a kid that way, right? A shitty dad is a pretty sad thing to have in common, but at least it's something because it’s the only thing so far. 

There is a woman in a uniform with an apron, she's nice, and she gives us cookies on the sly, and when the Dad ogre has finished shouting at us, she’s normally the one who turns up just before I wake up.

The last person, I don't know if she’s the Mom or a piano teacher, but she’s way too good-looking to be either. She looks like a movie star and dresses like one too. Velvet Looks like Faye Dunaway in Chinatown, but her eyes slope down, like when she isn’t smiling, they always look sad. But my god, when she smiles and tells me I played something right, I feel like my heart could burst right out of my chest and explode into a million cartoon bluebirds and butterflies or some shit like that. I don't think I've felt that way about anything except my guitar and when a cheerleader smiled at me one time accidentally. Shit what if my soulmate is a cheerleader? Most of them are rich girls, right?

Anyway, that's what I have for now. Until next time Double-D

Steve gave him his rough location and let him know he was at a pay phone a fair walk away, but he should be back at the car in fifteen minutes or so.

After collecting a few blankets and the tools that were currently sporadically decorating his room, he trudged back through their new living room only to be stopped by his Uncle’s voice.

“You going for a DIY sleepover or somethin’?” Wayne chuckled.

“No, it’s Steve. His tyre’s busted.”

“So you’re, what, gonna try to fix it, and if not, camp out?”

“Well, not exactly. Steve wanted the tools and said he’d stay out there if he couldn’t fix it.”

Wayne set down his paper and picked up his cigarette carton, and Eddie knew this was one of those moments where he was gonna have to do some human behavior analysis.

“Steve, the one always haulin’ those kids around? The one who swam and jumped in that hellhole first?” Wayne lit his cigarette, his voice softer now. “That Steve?”

Eddie nodded, waiting for it.

“And he called you. Not any of his other friends, not his folks, not even a towing company. Ain’t that kinda odd?” Wayne asked with a soft kindness.

“Well, his folks aren’t, uh, around much, and his other friends are probably asleep, and maybe all the towing places are closed?” Eddie tried to make sense of it.

“You remember that time you were, what, seven or eight, and you’d been climbing over the fence at your old house? You fell right in front of your pa, but you stayed quiet, went inside, and bawled your eyes out to your mama. Do you remember why?”

Eddie couldn’t remember that far back, honestly, but he knew why. He stared at the floor, Wayne’s words echoing louder than he liked. There’d been something in Steve’s voice. Something familiar. Not the words, but the weight behind them. That aching kind of hope that someone would show up. “Because I knew she’d take care of me and wouldn’t lay into me about it.”

Wayne raised his eyebrows at Eddie, rested his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray, picked up his paper again, and leaned back in his chair.

Glancing back at the phone, he realised with a strange rush that Steve hadn’t called just anyone. He’d called him. Then he threw the blankets on the sofa.

“Wayne, could you-”

“Uh-huh. I’ll set up the other camp bed,” Wayne confirmed from the other side of his paper, and that was all Eddie needed to grab his keys, leap down the stairs, and screech out of the trailer park in Steve’s direction.

He got there way faster than he should have. Luckily for him, no cops were staked out lying in wait.

He saw the BMW just on the side of the road, which meant somehow Steve had managed to get it out of wherever he’d ended up.

“Gotta do everything himself,” Eddie muttered as he hopped out of the van with his toolbox.

“Hey, man!” he called out and saw the silhouette on the hood spin around and its shoulders relax.

“Eddie, thanks for coming out. I really appreciate it,” Steve gushed with gratitude as he stepped into the light.

Eddie took him in. The bright red bump on his forehead, the grazes of brambles on his hands and arms. Untypically, he was pale, his eyes puffy and red-rimmed. Something about the way he stood, shoulders tensed again, like he was bracing for impact, made Eddie’s chest ache. It felt familiar. He rubbed at one arm absently, like the scratches had only just started stinging because someone else had seen them.

Steve clocked it right away, tugging at his sleeves and smoothing his shirt. He rolled his eyes. “Got in a bit of a tangle with nature, that’s all,” he said to the night sky, shifting his weight before he forced a smile and put his hands out for the tools.

Moving past him, Eddie crouched down to set the jack up. The chill of the asphalt seeped through his jeans as he knelt beside the tyre. “Spare in the trunk?”

Steve motioned toward the back of the car. “I can do it myself,” he said, but Eddie stopped him.

“Either go sit in my van or stand out of the road,” It was uttered with an uncommon firmness. One he used when Hellfire were getting to rowdy, but it was not unkind.

His friend’s gaze dropped to the ground, his lips tucked back like he was biting them together, and he stepped forward and back a few times like he was fighting with himself, like a paused VHS. Eventually, he conceded, but not without some muttered self-deprecation.

“Shit, I’m sorry for waking you up, Eddie. I didn’t wanna be a pain in the ass. I just thought you’d be awake and-”

“Steve, that’s almost as big a lie as you saying you didn’t get in an accident. That huge angry lump on your head says otherwise,” Eddie said as he removed the original tyre.

“The car’s fine, though. It’s just the wheel, I think,” Steve defended nervously.

“The car? The car is fine?” Eddie tutted and shook his head. “What about you? Are you fine? Because you don’t look fine, man.”

Steve’s hand followed Eddie’s eyeline. He winced, then forced a smile. “Yeah, of course I am. Just a little bump. Nothing to worry about.”

Eddie huffed a laugh of disbelief as he rolled the new tyre around and started putting it on.

“Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. I-I won’t bother you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you pissed too,” Steve said with a crack in his voice.

Eddie snapped his head toward him. “You think I’m pissed because you called me?” He narrowed his eyes at his friend. “No. No way, man,” he said, tightening the last of the bolts.

“I’m pissed because I know why you called me out of literally anyone else you could have called, but you’ve stood there and told me lie after lie. Why?”

Steve’s hands went deep into his pockets. “I just, I didn’t want anyone else to think I was a lo…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Forget it.”

Eddie tightened the wheel and lowered the jack in silence, then packed up his tools and threw them in his van. Eddie leaned against the van, hands braced on the cold metal, trying to settle the wild thump in his chest. He could feel Steve’s sorrowful, shocked expression follow him, like the silence between them was another thing that needed fixing. He straightened up, crossed the space between them, and stood in front of him.

Eddie looked Steve right in the eyes, and the guy reached for his wallet, which Eddie batted to the ground before wrapping him up in a tight embrace.

He heard the gasp first, but there was no resistance. Steve’s weight was on him like he’d almost collapsed into him. Like he’d been standing in a posture that wasn’t his for so long, he was relieved to let it go. It was like he had forgotten how to be held and then remembered all at once.

He trembled in his arms, and soon Eddie could feel the dampness on his collar. It wasn’t the crying that got to him. It was the silence. Like Steve didn’t know he was allowed to make noise. That hit Eddie harder than he wanted to admit. It felt strange, holding someone who’d once seemed untouchable. Like seeing the cracks in a statue. Only this wasn’t cold or distant. It was warm and real. Almost like a dam of pain had burst.

Daringly, Eddie put a hand to the back of Steve’s head and stroked his hair like his mama did for him. “You’re okay, sweetheart. I got you.”

The pet name choice surprised him. Sweetheart. It wasn’t unheard of for Eddie to use them, though they were normally reserved for people who annoyed him or inanimate objects he cared about. He couldn’t recall ever saying it like this before. But it felt right. Like something his mama would’ve said when the world was too big. When his heart was too open. A verbal balm to freshly opened wounds.

Eddie felt his T-shirt tighten around him as two fists grabbed hold of the fabric at his back. They stayed like that for a while until Steve’s grip relaxed and the shaking slowed.

“Listen, I got a makeshift tow situation I can rig up to get you home, okay? But honestly, maybe you should come back to mine, huh? It’s no mansion, but we got beers, snacks, smokes, a warm place to sleep, and no one is gonna give a shit about anything except how you’re doing. What’d ya say? Wanna spend the night at Trailer Park Towers?”

He felt Steve laugh and sniffle against his neck and finally nod.

“Okay, go get in the van. I’ll sort this out.”

Steve raised his head slowly, eyes flicking up like he wasn’t sure he had the right to look. “Thanks,” he managed before wiping his eyes and swallowing hard.

“Go on, get,” Eddie smiled and waved him toward the van, rewarded by a crooked smile, before Steve headed to the passenger seat.

Two bungee cords, a prayer, and the world’s jankiest length of rope. That was Eddie’s brilliant tow strategy. He rigged a rope between the van and the BMW. Barely street-legal, but it was good enough to limp home. A few times, Eddie had to slow right down for fear of losing the Beemer to the elements of Hawkins.

But to his surprise, he was completely alone in his worry. Steve was sound asleep under his leather jacket, curled up in the passenger seat.

A few times, Eddie woke him up on purpose just to make sure he was okay because of the head bump.

They got back to the trailer park, and Eddie sorted out the BMW before opening the passenger door to help Steve out and welcomed him inside.

Wayne had set up two camp beds in the lounge with blankets and pillows, the heater already blazing away.

“Made you boys some cocoa. It’s on the stove. I’m gonna head to bed. Nice to see ya, Steve. Make yourself at home, son.” Wayne smiled at them, and Eddie watched the surprise on Steve’s face melt into a smile.

“Thank you, Mr. Munson. I really appreciate it.”

“No bother. Rest up. First aid kit’s in the bathroom,” Wayne said before heading into Eddie’s room to sleep.

Eddie showed Steve where the bathroom was so he could get cleaned up and even gave him some of his clothes to wear, which were a little tight, but pajamas and T-shirts were pretty forgiving.

Eddie sat on the edge of the bathtub and helped treat the scratches on Steve’s arms and the bump on his head.

“I can’t thank you enough, Eddie. This was really kind of you. You know Robin and Nancy or Jonathan or the kids would help if they could.”

“I know,” Eddie nodded. “You just needed a different kind of help. And your folks are out of town, right?”

Steve hesitated, then nodded. Hesitated again and shook his head. “No, I just… It’s like I told you. It would have confirmed all my dad’s opinions of me.”

It made Eddie take pause and look up at Steve. He knew anyone was capable of being an ass, but he thought rich people were nice to their own at least, especially their kids, right?

“Shit, dude. That sucks. I didn’t realise.”

“That’s okay. Only Robin knows what it’s like sometimes, but I don’t like to burden anyone with it if I can help it. They’ll just think I’m whining when I should be grateful,” Steve said quietly, his eyes not moving from Eddie’s hands bandaging his forearms.

“Clearly money doesn’t stop parents being assholes,” Eddie comiserated and held his tongue for a second before blurting out what was on his mind.

“He’s wrong, you know. You’re not a, uh, you’re not a loser. It’s fucked up what everyone has been through, and having no support system at home gives you nowhere to turn. My best friend left for college a while back, and everyone else in my friend group is younger than me, too. So I get it can be difficult to confide in them. Not because they aren’t amazing little shits, but because I feel like I should be helping them, not the other way around,” Eddie rambled, and quickly stopped before he said too much. “What I’m trying to say is, I get it. And I get why you called me. You can call me anytime, okay? Well, apart from Friday nights, because that’s-”

“Hellfire Club,” Steve answered with a fond smile. “I’m the chauffeur, remember?”

“Right, right,” Eddie laughed. “Nothing saying you can’t hang out with us, though. I just meant I won’t be home to call, that’s all.”

Steve looked up, examining Eddie’s face.

“When you’re not on a date or at work or with Robin. I know you’ve got a pretty packed schedule. Mr. Popular,” Eddie smirked nervously, pinning the bandage in place.

“I’m, uh, I’m not as busy as you think. And a lot of those dates are a waste of time, energy, and money. Would be much better to spend some time with someone, uh, some people, I mean, that liked having me around to talk to,” Steve suggested quietly.

“I can’t promise too much chatter during D&D or band practice, but I think that would be cool, yeah.” Eddie couldn’t help smiling and raised his eyes to Steve’s.

Something in the eyes looking back at him made his stomach plummet like he was on a rollercoaster.

“Well, you’re all done. Let’s get that cocoa and head to bed, huh?” Eddie said, getting up to leave the bathroom and tidying away the first aid kit.

“Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?” he managed, before two muscular arms wrapped around him and held him tighter than he could remember anyone hugging him before.

“Thank you. I’m here for you too,” Steve said, muffled in his hair, and how Eddie didn’t melt directly onto the trailer floor, he wasn’t sure. By some miracle, he held it together, recognised another soul in need, and got back to the plan. Cocoa. Bed.

They sat and talked about movies, TV, and some of the people from school, safe, common ground, until Steve’s blinking slowed, and they headed to their parallel camp beds.

“Night, Steve. If you need anything, just wake me up,” Eddie said, happily snuggling down under his blankets, looking at the back of Steve’s head.

"How about me and Gareth put our thinking caps on and try to come up with a few things similar to what we already played," Jeff suggests brightly, turning back to Gareth on the kit, who already looks close to exhausted. They had been going at the song all afternoon.

Eddie leaps out of his seat, "What time is it?" he says with urgency looking intensely at Gareth.

"Time you gotta-" Gareth starts before getting cut off by Eddie running around and grabbing his wrist.

"Ok, ok!" Eddie runs into the house.

The band listens at the door.

"Henderson?...*mumbling*...Uh-huh...I just want your opinion on it...oh, I see...noooo, sorry my dude, I can't...oh, he can?...I guess...ok, cool, later" Even though Eddie had made the call to Dustin, his tone was like he was trying to sound as disinterested as possible.

The jangling of chains indicates Eddie is running back to the garage and everyone scrambles back to their original, casual positions.

Eddie bursts back through the door, a wicked grin on his face, "The answer is on the way. Just follow my lead. I need you to say absolutely nothing about it. Just listen and play, alright?"

The band nods. Everyone in Corroded Coffin had their turn to present songs to the band, and each had displayed their fair share of theatrics in rehearsal, so this kind of display wasn't unusual. But this was an Eddie epiphany, and these tended to be the most dramatic. Jeff and Gareth smile at one another knowingly. He had been working on his song since the hospital. He said it was inspired by something he saw when he was on the run.

"How about we take a break, huh?" Eddie says, producing a grocery bag of drinks and snacks for the band, "Take a short rest to max out HP before round 2, yeah?" Eddie unleashes his most charming smile, and of course, the band agrees, even though the practice had already overrun by about an hour.

Twenty minutes later, the familiar BMW rolls up on the driveway. 

Dustin stumbles out of the car in his hurry and rushes towards the band, "So let's hear it!" He's totally hyped about being chosen for an opinion on a Corroded Coffin song.

"Yeah, in a minute..." Eddie says, watching the car.

Steve Harrington emerges, nods a greeting at everyone, and the look on his face reads whatever it was, he was over it. He leans back on the hood of his car, arms folded, and waits, occasionally checking his nails or looking around with a bored expression.

Eddie puts down his guitar and walks into the house.

Dustin stands gobsmacked, gesturing with his hands at the spot Eddie was just standing in and turning around, looking completely lost, to the other band members for answers, but they only have shrugs.

Moments later, Eddie re-emerges, but he's sneaking up behind the car. Something in his hands. Some kind of rubber bat or something. He pulls back his arm and throws it at Steve with all his might.

Steve almost leaves his body for a second when this thing makes contact with the side of his face. He hurriedly grabs it and rips it apart. Eddie is standing there, eyebrows raised and mouth slightly agape.

Then, Steve looks into his hands and turns to Eddie, looking less than impressed. Eddie is snickering, no, he's giggling, and walking backwards into the garage as Steve berates him, hand on hip, accusing finger pointing at a grinning Eddie.

Eddie circles around the drum kit, Steve still pacing after him, and he grabs Gareth's hand and puts it to his chest.

Gareth smiles, "Oooooh, I'm gonna need the double kick pedal for this one" Jeff raises his eyebrows and rushes to get it for him, and sets it up while Gareth can't move.

Eddie is still grinning wildly as Steve lectures him on the dangers of scaring someone who has nearly died on numerous occasions.

Dustin still looks absolutely bewildered until Gareth's sticks smack the skins of his drums, and the double kick pedals against the bass drum start to drown Steve out, even though he's still trying to make himself heard.

"Oh fuck yeah!!" Eddie shouts, "That's fucking it" Jeff follows the rhythm on the bass and starts to move around the notes for the scale in the designated key.

"This is heavy as fuck!!" Dustin shouts, causing Steve to focus on him and his foul language, leaving Eddie free to grab his guitar.

As Eddie swings his sweetheart around into position, he drops into a low rock stance, dragging his plectrum along the strings as he and the rhythm guitar play their parts over the new bass and drums.

The whole band is headbanging in unison, as is Dustin, and Steve gives up, shakes his head, and goes back to leaning against his car, tapping his watch at Dustin.

As Eddie launches into the solo, he runs up to the BMW and leaps onto the hood of it, and makes the guitar squeal. Steve is absolutely not ok with this in any way, he's yelling and waving his arms around, but all it does is make Eddie point his guitar at him as he plays and sticks his tongue out of his mouth like a demon.

Eddie jumps back down once the solo is over, leaving Steve to frantically search his car for something to clean the hood with.

Dustin, a little dazed from all the headbanging, is jumping up and down with the band as the song comes to a close.

"That beast is going in the set list, my dudes!" Gareth gets up from his kit and makes his way over to the wall set list, "Er…what's it called, Eddie?"

Eddie looks a little nervous, "Oh…er…I don't know…I hadn't thought of one yet" Dustin sees him sneakily try to slide a notepad off the crate and onto the floor. Dustin grins and intercepts it, and runs out of Eddie's reach before he can grab it 

Dustin raises his eyebrows at the pad and giggles, "No title, huh? What about this right here at the top of all your notes? Looks like a title to me" Dustin pokes at the pad with a big smile on his face.

"Er…well…that's just when I've been doodling when I'm thinking," Eddie says, trying his best to look unbothered, but he is edging his way towards Dustin and the notepad.

Dustin laughs again, "So are you saying you were just deep in thought, wistfully looking into the distance, absentmindedly doodling, and this is what was on your mind?" Dustin takes a few steps away again, noticing Eddie's subtle approach.

"No, absolutely not that, I just meant…er…it's a working title…yeah, that's it. Yep." Eddie tries again, but the stress is starting to show on his face. His mouth is tense, and his eye twitches a little, "So, if you'd kindly give it back, Dustin!"

Realising there is a joke happening he isn't the butt of, Steve peers over Dustin's shoulder to read the pad. All he says is, "Huh." He shakes his head, puts a hand on his hip, and approaches Eddie.

Eddie looks like a deer in headlights as Steve reaches for the pen sticking out of his mass of hair and returns to Dustin and the pad.

Steve smiles big and laughs, shaking his head, and glances up at Eddie. as he puts pen to pad, Steve says, "Sleeve has two e's in the middle, you silly goose!"

Steve looks proud. Eddie has never looked more relieved, and everyone else is looking at Steve in shock.

"What? It's an easy spelling mistake to make. Anyway, I've fixed it now. You're welcome." Steve says, looking around the garage with wide eyes because not one of these little shits said thank you.

Eddie walks over and smiles smugly at Dustin, taking back his pad, "Yes, thank you very much, Harrington. None of these goons spotted it"

"Anytime, Munson," Steve claps his hands together at Dustin, "Henderson, come on, the game is gonna start soon."

As Dustin gets into the car, Eddie gives them a little dainty finger wave, the smug grin still on his face. 

He's never been more grateful to have forgotten to cross a t in his life.

This song when Corroded Coffin make it big