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Music pounded in Steve's ears, a driving rhythm that only made his already racing heart beat faster. Pushing through the crowd of costumed partygoers, Steve shoved and was shoved back, squeezed out of an already too-small space, beer spilling on his t-shirt. He ditched his feathery wings, leaving them over a chair for someone else to play the angel as they made it too difficult to get through the throng. Trying to get somewhere, anywhere that wasn't here, surrounded by people whose only care in the world was how drunk they could get or who to hook up with this time, his feet found the stairs and just kept going.
Steve thought he vaguely recognized the people occupying the guest room, though it was a little hard to tell at the moment. Continuing on down the hall, the bathroom sounded as if it, too, was occupied by more than one person, both of them loud. The next room he came to was Chrissy's, her door standing slightly ajar. Slowly pushing it open, Steve sagged against in relief, grateful to find an empty room at last.
Glancing around the hallway before closing the door, Steve paced a rut in the carpet, tugging at his hair and knocking his cheap halo askew. The last beer he’d shotgunned swam uneasily in his stomach, making Steve regret drinking anything at all. Why had he even come tonight? Because Chrissy had asked, that's why, a voice in his head helpfully supplied. He had been avoiding everyone from his days as a Tiger, everyone in general, really, and she was worried.
She would be a hell of a lot more worried if she knew the truth, that Steve had trouble being around people that he hadn't been through hell with, people blissfully unaware of the secrets lying in wait just beneath their feet. Tonight, surrounded by a whole crowd of them, he had tried unsuccessfully to get drunk enough to handle it. It hadn't worked; the all-too-familiar panic gripped him, welling up from his chest to strangle his throat, throbbing inside his skull. Steve had thought if he could just find some quiet, just a moment's peace, he would be all right.
He wasn't.
Perching at the end of the bed, Steve picked up one of Chrissy’s teddy bears. It was one he had given her after the cheer squad won a regional competition, dressed in a green and white uniform with little tinsel pom poms. Hugging it to his chest, he drew in a deep breath, or tried anyway, his lungs refusing to fill. Steve’s eyes welled up with tears, knowing only one thing; he had to get out of here.
Knowing he couldn't drive like this, that he would probably just run off the road and spend the night in a ditch, Steve curled up around the bear and tried to calm his racing thoughts. He wished Robin had wanted to come with him instead of just loaning him parts of a costume from an old Christmas pageant. She would know exactly how to bring him back from whatever this was, Steve was certain. It was insane to feel afraid in a such a nice house, a place where he'd felt nothing but comfortable before, hanging out with Chrissy and Jason, sometimes Patrick and Chase and their girlfriends of the week. They’d invited Billy once, but he'd spent the entire time hitting on one girl or another, the worse the more he drank, and at one point Steve would swear the guy was hitting on him.
The worst part was that Steve might have let Billy take him to an empty room, even just the bathroom, and – what, kiss him? Blow him? Just to make thoughts of the tunnels beneath Hawkins and what had been in them go away. He wasn't gay, he wasn't, he liked girls far too much for that. Sometimes bros helped each other out, that was all; it didn't mean anything.
Then everything had gone to hell and he'd had to pull the asshole back from hurting a fucking thirteen year old. Who went after a kid like that? All Steve had gotten for his trouble was a plate smashed over his head and then even more trouble, because this was apparently just his life now. Honestly, Steve was glad he'd never let Billy touch him, having had to watch him die. He'd been one evil motherfucker by then, his heart so infested by the mindflayer that he couldn't tell right from wrong or friend from foe. That didn't mean Steve had wanted to watch him get stabbed through the chest and bleed out in front of his baby sister.
Life sucked, was the point. Any minute now, when he could finally draw in enough air to breathe, when the black and gold sparkles cleared from his vision and his head stopped throbbing in time with his too-fast heartbeat, then he would leave. Steve would brave the crowd downstairs again, reassess his sobriety, find his way through without losing his shit, and he would leave. He would go home to an empty house and probably have another beer and fall asleep on the couch, just like any other night.
Christ, the party was loud, even with the door shut. The noise overwhelmed him suddenly, as it had a few times since Starcourt, pure terror and panic rising to flood his chest and creep into his throat. He couldn't breathe, feeling phantom claws tearing at his skin, hearing the sounds the creatures made as though they were right outside. When he closed his eyes, he saw that thing that filled the atrium advancing on their small group, who had somehow become the last line of defense for their homes and the people in them, the people they loved who knew nothing about the dangers stalking in the night.
Rising from the bed, Steve crouched to gauge the height of the frame, wondering if he could fit beneath it, but it was far too short. That left the closet, in terms of enclosed spaces, somewhere he could hide and feel four walls close around him. It was never much help when he did it at home, but it was better than nothing. Standing back up, he moved to the door with wooden slats down the front, hoping to god it wasn't stuffed to the brim.
For once, Steve was in luck. It was fairly roomy for a closet, all things considered, with a rack in the front split to either side, allowing space in the middle to stack shelves or cubbies and actually be able to get to them. A neatly organized rack for shoes occupied that space, and Steve squeezed past it to sit in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest. A small amount of light still shone through the slats keeping it from being pitch black, for which Steve was grateful. He had no idea how long he had been there, rocking back and forth like a frightened child, when he heard the creak of the bedroom door.
It was slow and quiet, as though the person was nervous of interrupting something, which was honestly fair. Steve pushed up on his knees to see who it was, peering out through the slats. It wasn't a great view, but it was good enough to see Eddie Munson sneak inside, glancing behind him before closing the door.
Steve knew Eddie by reputation only, having let the word spread that party favors were welcome at his little get-togethers, knowing someone would show up to provide. Usually, it was Munson. They never spoke beyond simple business transactions; word around town was that he was some sort of freak, and maybe even a devil-worshiper. Steve didn't really care about any of that, so long as he could get a good buzz going for a nice discount. He was the host of the party, after all.
At least, he had been. Steve hadn't thrown a single rager since that night at the mall, and doubted he ever would again. It was hard to lose yourself to that sort of hazy oblivion when you knew that hell was real and heaven had yet to show its face.
Outside the closet, Eddie glanced around the room, hands jammed in his pockets. They didn't stay there for long as he wandered from a shelf full of knickknacks to one with cheering trophies and medals, reaching out to run his fingers along them. He picked up the bear at the end of the bed and – gross, he smelled it. A strange look passed across his face before tossing it back in the pile up by the pillows.
Moving on he examined the bulletin board full of photos and magazine and newspaper clippings, having the audacity to scoff at some of them with a cruel little laugh. Dragging his fingers along the small white vanity, he picked up a fluffy makeup brush and ran it along the back of his hand. Steve wrinkled his nose. The fuck was Munson doing in here, anyway?
Then he slowly opened the top drawer of her dresser, peering inside. A sick sort of smile lit his face as he perused the contents. Steve couldn't see what Eddie was doing when he reached inside to rummage around, but his eyes slid halfway shut with a satisfied expression. When he withdrew his hand, he held a pair of green satin panties trimmed in delicate lace.
“Hey, put those back!” Steve said, unable to stop himself from throwing open the closet door. Who did Munson think he was, stealing some girl's underwear? “That's gross, dude.”
Munson jumped back from the drawer, clearly surprised at being caught out. His grip only tightened on the pilfered panties. “Don’t think you’ve got a leg to stand on, buddy,” he said, eyes narrowing. “As you’re the one in her closet.”
“I was just —” Steve started, knowing how bad it looked, and just how dumb his explanation was going to sound.
“Just what, trying on her skirts?” Eddie asked, a smug grin on his face.
Steve frowned. “I don’t think the closet’s big enough to – ugh, that’s not the point.”
“And just what is the point, exactly?” Eddie asked, leaning against the dresser and crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you stalking her? We're you going to wait until the party was over and then —”
“I wouldn't stalk her,” Steve said, brow wrinkling in confusion. “She's my friend.”
“Oh, so she lets you try on her skirts, then?”
“No, what – why do you think I want to wear her skirts?” Steve frowned, glancing at the underwear in Eddie's hand. “Do you want to wear her panties? Is that what this is about?”
“Wear them?” Eddie said. “No. Do other things with them? Yeah, probably.”
“That's disgusting,” Steve said, hands on his hips. “Put ‘em back.”
“Make me, big boy,” Eddie said with a vicious, canine grin. His teeth looked too long suddenly, and Steve tilted his head, instantly wary. Eyes outlined in red and black, Munson’s fingers were tipped with long, pointed nails that resembled claws. Right. Halloween.
“Nice costume,” Steve said, injecting as much sarcasm into the words as he could manage. “What are you, some kind of vampire?”
Eddie raised an eyebrow, giving Steve an obvious once-over. “Is that what I look like, angel?” he asked.
A loud giggle from the hallway startled them both before Steve could come up with an answer, followed by a thump echoing through the wall just beside the door. His sly expression falling away, Eddie crossed the room in a flash. Grabbing Steve’s wrist, Eddie tugged him bodily into the closet and shut the panel just as the doorknob jiggled, failing to open as someone stumbled into it.
Chrissy all but fell into the room a moment later, finally managing to best the challenge presented by the door. Jason Carver’s arms were wrapped around her, his hands roving possessively as he hindered her progress across the room. She giggled again, her face pink.
“The fuck did you do that for?” Steve whispered angrily, hoping to god they couldn't be heard. Eddie was pressed up close against him, both of them wedged in the spot Steve had occupied before giving himself away. “Now we’re stuck in here!”
Eddie held up one hand, letting the silken panties dangle from his index finger. “I wasn’t in the mood to get murdered tonight,” he hissed back. The ambient noise level through the wall was almost too loud to hear him, an inch from Steve’s face.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have taken them!” Steve retorted.
“Fair point,” Eddie conceded.
Outside the closet, the bed gave a mighty creak and Chrissy giggled again. “You are so drunk right now,” Jason said, and Eddie rolled his eyes.
“So are you,” Chrissy said. “Now get up here.”
“What if I got down here instead?” Jason asked.
“Mm,” Chrissy hummed. “Yes, please.” She let out a gasp, followed by a small moan.
“Huh,” Eddie said quietly. “Would have figured he was a get his and get gone kinda guy.”
“Jason isn't so bad,” Steve whispered back. “Just kind of a douche, that's all.”
“Jason Carver is a cunt, actually,” Eddie countered. “At least he is if you're not a jock.”
“Oh,” Steve said, considering the statement.
He supposed it could be true. God knew he'd been terrible enough to people like Eddie and his friends, before all the Upside Down shit started. He'd been so scared to lose his popularity that he'd just gone along with the worst of what guys like Jason and Tommy did, knowing no one would ever think he was worth their time otherwise. Nancy had broken him of that habit, and in the end he had gained far better friends, like Robin, and even Dustin.
Of course, Nancy had also cheated on him and then dumped him, leaving him at the bottom of the barrel to finish out high school on his own. That hadn't been so great.
“You kind of were too, for a while anyway,” Eddie said.
“Yeah, I know,” Steve said with a sigh. Eddie looked surprised at the admission.
A wavering moan filled the room. Steve hadn't felt quite so guilty in a long time, hiding and listening to Chrissy enjoy some oral from her boyfriend. She at least had never been like the others, not like Carol or Tammy, or anyone else in their crowd – the other girls he had slept with and then never called back. He really had been kind of a cunt.
“Yeah, you like that, baby?” Jason's voice cut through Chrissy's sounds of pleasure.
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Do that again.”
“Christ,” Eddie said.
His hair had fallen in his face, and he wasn't looking at Steve – he was peering out through the slats, watching. Steve stepped on his foot, and Eddie made a strangled sound, his lips pressed in a firm line to hold it in.
“Did you hear something?” Chrissy asked. “Oh – oh!”
“Can't really hear with your thighs around my ears, babe,” Jason replied, his voice loud but indistinct.
Eddie gave a small laugh, still watching. “You should be seeing this,” he whispered. “She's got him by the hair.”
“Nice,” Steve said, before thinking better of it. “He could use some bossing around.”
“Oh yeah?” Eddie said, turning back to him. “Is that what you'd do?”
Steve sputtered. “Uh, no,” he deflected. Would he? Don't be ridiculous, he told himself. “I'm not some kind of queer.”
He regretted the word instantly as Eddie's face changed into something ugly. It had been a defense mechanism, just an old habit. Robin would be ashamed of him.
“Fuck, man, I'm sorry,” Steve said, wiping a hand down his face. “That was a really shitty thing to say. I didn't mean it.”
“As in that's a shitty thing to say to someone?” Eddie asked. “Or a shitty thing to say at all?”
“Both?” Steve said, confused. He had heard the rumors about Eddie, everyone had, but Steve had always assumed it was just one more insult to hurl. “I mean, there's nothing wrong with it. You like who you like.”
Eddie was staring at him a little too intently. “And if I said I was one?”
Steve scrunched up his nose. “Why were you stealing her panties, then?”
Eddie gave a small, surprised laugh. “Because chicks are hot, too?”
Steve blinked. “I mean, yeah, but,” he stumbled. “You can – like both?”
“Aw, did you just learn something new, Harrington?” Eddie said, leaning in closer to give his halo a flick. “That's adorable.”
Outside the closet, Chrissy's voice raised in both volume and pitch. Eddie turned his head back to keep watching, and Steve honestly couldn't blame him, with the sounds she was making. Friendship notwithstanding, it was really hot.
So hot, in fact, Steve realized with dawning horror that his body was reacting. He wasn't hard in his jeans, not yet, but he might be if she didn't finish up soon.
“Which one do you like better, Harrington?” Eddie asked, cutting his eyes back to Steve.
“I already told you, Jason’s a douche,” Steve answered. He thought he'd made that clear.
“I’m not asking if you want to hold hands and go steady,” Eddie said, condescension dripping from his tone. “I’m asking which one would you fuck?”
“I – Chrissy is my friend, dude,” Steve replied. He couldn't even think about – well, okay, he could think about it. Had thought about it, in fact, but only when he couldn't sleep and his brain cycled through all the girls he knew, his hands on their tits, his tongue in their wet cunts, stripping his cock as he tried desperately to get off.
“So, Carver then,” Eddie said, unbearably smug.
“I didn’t say that!” Steve protested. Gross. Even if he did like guys – which he didn't, at least he was pretty sure – probably – Jason wouldn't be his type. “Fine, which one would you?”
“Both,” Eddie said easily. “Together.”
Steve couldn't help it; his mind ran with the idea, picturing it. Vividly. The three of them, twined together, maybe Chrissy sucking Eddie's cock while Jason fucked her or vice versa, maybe Chrissy sitting on Eddie's face while —
“You're thinking about it,” Eddie whispered in disbelief.
“Shut up,” Steve said, looking down. “Maybe.”
Eddie was still looking at him, Steve could tell. He couldn't get the idea out of his head, what it would look like, Eddie fucking Jason while he writhed and moaned, Chrissy watching, touching herself. Steve tried to substitute thoughts of something, anything else to keep his cock from stiffening up, thought about his grandmother, god rest her soul, even thought about Robin. Nothing helped.
“Fuck, she's holding him there, right where she wants him.” Eddie sounded awed. “Christ, she could do that to me any day of the week.”
“Yeah?” Steve said, giving up on not picturing it. “Hate to say it, but I don't think you're her type.”
“Good girls always go for a bad boy,” Eddie assured him. “Always.”
“Is that what you are?” Steve asked, the question coming out less condescending than he intended.
Eddie ignored the question, which was probably for the best. “What about you, big boy?” he asked instead. “You like the bad girls?”
“Nah,” Steve answered truthfully. “Not really.”
“Oh right,” Eddie said, looking at him with a cruel sort of smile. “Wheeler. ‘Course, she didn't turn out to be such a good girl after all, did she?”
“Fuck you, man,” Steve said, shoving at his chest.
“Wasn't very nice of me, was it?” Eddie said, leaning closer. “You like the bad boys, Stevie?”
Eddie was too close in the semi-dark, warm light filtering in through the slats across his face. Chrissy saved him from having to answer, her repeated cries of don't stop, don't stop, followed by a wet, incomprehensible mumble from Jason. Eddie's quiet snort turned into a silent laugh as he pressed his forehead to the wall. It proved contagious, and soon Steve was laughing, too. Chrissy came with a loud wail, heedless of anyone outside that might hear. Or inside, for that matter.
Beneath the pounding beat of the stereo, Steve could still hear their heavy breathing and a slick, slurping sort of sound. Raising his hand to his mouth, he bit down on his knuckles to stop the laughter, lest they be heard. Eddie shifted, still shaking with mirth, bracing his hand on the wall next to Steve's head for balance. He unfortunately bumped his thigh against Steve's crotch in the process, and Steve's sharp intake of breath was audible in the absence of voices from outside.
“Okay, I know I heard something that time,” Chrissy said.
“Babe, there's a whole ass party going on out there,” Jason said, sounding out of breath. “Of course you heard something.”
Steve let out a soft sigh of relief as the bed creaked again. Chrissy giggled, and fabric rustled. Then he heard the clanking sound of a belt buckle and looked up at Eddie in alarm.
“Shit,” Eddie said, echoing Steve's brief thought process.
“We're never getting out of here,” Steve muttered, hearing the telltale crackle of foil before long, followed by an elastic snap.
“Seems like you might not mind so much,” Eddie said, pressing his thigh back against Steve's unfortunately half-hard cock.
He couldn't hold in the small gasp at the pressure. “Dude, I just listened to a girl orgasm like ten feet away from me,” Steve groused. “I can't help it.”
“You sure that's it?” Eddie asked in a voice like syrup, thick and over-sweet.
“Don't flatter yourself, Munson.” Steve couldn't look at him, choosing to stare at the back wall of the closet instead.
“You want to know what I think?” Eddie asked.
“No,” Steve said succinctly. Yes.
“I think you do like the bad boys, Stevie,” Eddie murmured, lowering his head to Steve's neck.
Warm breath whispered across Steve's skin. Instead of the soft press of lips he halfway expected, Steve felt a scratch from two sharp points dragging down from below his ear to stop halfway to his collarbone. Fucking vampire teeth, Steve thought, shuddering at the sensation.
“Stop it,” he said with a half-hearted shove at Eddie's chest.
“See, I don't think you really mean that, angel,” Eddie countered, the words leaving goosebumps in their wake.
It sounded more like an endearment than sarcasm over his halfhearted costume this time, and Steve realized he kind of liked it. What was wrong with him? Things were heating up again between Chrissy and Jason, and Steve was confused, that was all. Just a few crossed wires.
“Ohhh,” Jason groaned. “Oh fuck, yeah, baby, that's it.”
Eddie's tongue slid along his throat without warning, hot and wet. The points returned, four of them this time, sharp as they pinched his skin between them. Didn’t vampires only have one set of fangs? A soft sound escaped Steve’s mouth as Eddie pushed in impossibly close, dragging his thigh down and back up between Steve's legs. It was too much, too good for Steve to want it to stop, but he made one last futile attempt.
“I mean it,” Steve said, his throat tight. “Stop.”
Fully intending to push Eddie back, Steve realized his fingers were clutching his shirt instead. Jason's grunts filtered through the door, the sound of skin slapping against skin loud in Steve's ears. He could feel his pulse hammering away in a runaway rhythm as Eddie kept up his own, a frankly impressive erection pressing hard against Steve’s jeans. His hips hitched up without Steve's permission, and he bit down on his lip to keep from letting out the sound lodged in his throat.
“That's right, baby,” Eddie said, his hand sliding along Steve's hip until it rested in the small of his back, holding him steady. “Let me make you feel good.”
“You are,” Steve breathed out, surprised at his own words.
Jason made a noise that was honestly embarrassing, and Steve hoped to god he never sounded like that when he was balls deep. It was even louder and more ridiculous the second time he did it, making the pleasure sparking along Steve's nerves seem dissonant. Chrissy's voice soon thankfully rose above Jason's in short exclamations, gaining in both volume and pitch as it went on.
“Yeah, just like that,” she gasped out. “Doing so good for Mommy.”
Christ, even that was hot right now. Steve wondered what wouldn't be hot, with Eddie's breath against the shell of his ear, his arm penning Steve in and his thigh rubbing insistently against Steve’s cock.
“Mommy,” Eddie whispered, a laugh in his voice, and Steve didn't even think before pinching his nipple. His hips stuttered against Steve as he drew in a sharp breath through his teeth.
“Fucking christ – do that again,” he said against Steve's ear, his voice a rough whisper.
Steve did, rubbing his thumb over the nub, then circling around it. One girl he'd dated had loved playing with his nipples, which he'd never really thought about before. Crazy really, considering how much he loved licking and sucking at girls’ tits, that he'd never wondered how it might feel on himself.
Eddie shuddered, rolling his hips against Steve as if he couldn't stop, the friction against Steve's cock now criminally absent. Giving Eddie's other nipple the same treatment, Steve shifted to rut mindlessly against his leg until Eddie froze, biting down on his earlobe. Steve nearly yelped at the unexpected pain, catching himself just in time. He could feel Eddie's cock twitching hard against his leg, a spreading wetness dampening his jeans.
Christ, he had just made Eddie Munson come in his pants. Before he could even think through that statement, Eddie's mouth was on his, hot and insistent. It was little more than a frantic press of lips before Eddie tried to pull back, mumbling apologies. Steve's right hand left Eddie's chest to tangle in his hair, holding him in place while Steve let his breath ghost between them. Eddie's eyes searched his face, only a heartbeat away in the dark.
When Steve kissed him it was slow and deliberate, his lips moving against Eddie's with intent. He was still painfully hard, but if Eddie wanted a kiss, he was going to fucking get one – a real kiss, not just crashing their mouths together like middle-schoolers. So he was feeling generous tonight, sue him.
Outside their hiding spot, Jason's thrusts had gotten sloppy from the sound of it, plowing into Chrissy while making noises like some sort of rabid animal. Steve would have found it hilarious if he wasn't otherwise occupied, tilting Eddie's head to his liking and slotting their lips together. It was different, kissing a guy, Steve thought. Eddie's lips were soft but a bit chapped, tasting like cheap beer and weed. Different, but definitely not bad.
It was easy to forget that anything existed but the two of them, wrapped up in the strange, transient space – until Jason finished with a loud growl that was downright pornographic. Steve couldn’t help the latest round of laughter that bubbled up from his chest, breaking the kiss to let it out. Fighting down a small laugh of his own, Eddie closed his eyes again and shook his head.
Then he was dropping to his knees and unzipping Steve's fly before Steve could protest – which he realized pretty quickly he wasn’t going to do, anyway. His cock jerked at the motion of the zipper, and Steve knew he probably wasn't going to last long. Eddie tugged down the waistband of his embarrassingly wet briefs, tucking it beneath Steve's balls in one practiced motion, and it was all he could do to hold his hips steady.
“Teeth,” Steve hissed as Eddie took him in hand and pulled Steve's cock toward his mouth.
Eddie glanced up in confusion before he grinned, popping out the plastic retainers holding his fangs in place. Then he dove back in, licking at the tip of Steve's cock and teasing with his tongue along the shaft as he stroked the length of it. Steve couldn't hold back a needy sound, and Eddie finally wrapped his lips around the head.
Steve leaned back against the wall as his hand found a home in Eddie's hair, watching him through hooded eyes. Eddie was good, sucking hard and bobbing his head just right, running his tongue along the line of muscle beneath the head that Steve always flicked with his thumb when he got himself off. He could feel it building, his balls pulled up high and tight, and he tried to keep himself from thrusting his cock down Eddie's throat. It was the idea of it that pushed him over the edge, Eddie knelt with his mouth open, letting Steve fuck his face. Steve couldn't exactly warn him, so he tugged on Eddie’s hair, only eliciting a soft hum in response.
Fuck, that was too much. He couldn't – he was –
Steve came like a fucking freight train, his hips jerking forward without his permission, shooting hard down Eddie's throat. To his credit, he swallowed it down with only a small cough, working Steve through the aftershocks with his hand on the gradually softening shaft. When he came back down from the goddamn stratosphere, Eddie had tucked him back into his jeans and was leaning his head against Steve's hip, breathing hard. Steve stroked his hand through Eddie's hair and he leaned into it like some sort of cat.
“What is even happening right now,” he said on a rough exhale.
“I'm pretty into it, whatever it is,” Steve offered. “Obviously.”
Sliding down the wall, his legs shaky, Steve joined him on the floor. Reaching out, he wiped a smear of semen from Eddie’s lips and popped his thumb in his own mouth. In the room, Steve could hear Chrissy and Jason rearranging their clothes, the metallic clink coming from Jason’s belt buckle as he fastened it this time. Any minute now, they’d be able to sneak back out, but Steve found he didn’t really want to. Reaching out, he wrapped a strand of Eddie’s hair around his finger, wishing he thought he could get away with kissing him again.
“Ready to play hostess again?” Jason asked cheerfully, and Chrissy scoffed.
“Most of them probably don't even remember whose house they're at,” she said. “We could just hide up here for the rest of the night.”
“No, no, no,” Eddie whispered. “Go back, mingle, drink more. Please.”
“Come on,” Jason cajoled, the bed creaking again. “Your adoring public awaits.”
Eddie mimed Jason's words with exaggerated emphasis, and Steve held in a giggle. The music was still loud, but probably not loud enough while the couple wasn't distracted. The door at last closed behind them and Steve finally relaxed, slumping back against the closet wall.
“So did you just speed right through a sexuality crisis, or what?” Eddie asked at a more normal volume, looking Steve over with a critical eye before pulling down on his halo with one finger and letting it bounce back up.
“Why would I have a crisis?” Steve asked, his brow wrinkling as the halo wobbled over his head.
“Why would you —” Eddie broke off with a disbelieving laugh. “Christ, you are something else.”
Steve hoped that was a good thing. He'd wasted so much time trying to be someone else, to be like people that were honestly terrible. It had to be better to be something else, didn't it?
“Robin’s not going to believe this,” Steve mused, simply dawdling at this point. It didn't escape his notice that Eddie hadn't moved from his spot, seeming in no hurry to leave, either.
“Robin?” Eddie asked. “You don’t mean Buckley, do you?”
“Yeah,” Steve said with a grin. “She’s sort of the other half of my brain. Maybe most of it, some days.”
“How the hell are you friends with Buckley?” Eddie asked with genuine confusion.
“We, ah,” Steve started, unsure how to finish. “We were both at Starcourt when the – the fire happened. Helped each other get out, some other people too.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie said, eyes wide. “That would have fucked me up.”
“Yeah, it did,” Steve said. “Both of us. I get really overwhelmed sometimes, like I just want to crawl out of my skin, or maybe like something’s crawling on it, I don’t know. Makes me feel insane.”
“Panic attacks?” Eddie asked, and Steve nodded.
“That’s why I was in here, actually,” he admitted. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe downstairs. Would have gone outside, but it’s so open, y’know?” Steve shrugged, feeling intensely self-conscious.
“You're not still, like, in it are you?” Eddie asked, looking concerned.
Steve shook his head. “You did a pretty great job of distracting me,” he said, ducking his head for a moment. It was true, after all.
“Yeah?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah,” Steve said, glancing back up.
“Come home with me,” Eddie said suddenly, biting his lip as though he hadn’t meant to let the words out.
“You’d want me to?” Steve asked, surprised. Eddie nodded, looking elsewhere. A smile spread across Steve’s face as something occurred to him. “My parents aren’t home,” he said. “Won’t be for a few days.”
“Seriously?” Eddie said, glancing back.
“Yep,” Steve answered, emphasizing the P.
Eddie’s face broke out in a grin. “That is excellent news. Guess we should get out of here then, huh?”
“Guess we should,” Steve said, casting about for Eddie's fangs where he had dropped them on the floor. He really, really did not want Chrissy to find those. “Hey, what kind of vampire are you, anyway?” Steve asked, finally spotting them – right next to the pilfered panties.
“I’m not a vampire,” Eddie said. Leaning in close to whisper in Steve’s ear, he tugged off the halo. “I’m a demon. And you have been thoroughly corrupted.”
Steve had to agree as he tucked the panties in Eddie's jacket pocket. Eddie laughed in surprise, patting the pocket for good measure.
“Wait,” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side. “Wouldn’t a demon have horns, and like, a pitchfork?”
Eddie shrugged. “I had horns, but Carol Perkins stole them off me when I sold her a bag.”
Steve snorted. “Honestly? That kind of suits her better.”
Eddie cackled, rising to his feet to tug uncomfortably at his jeans. “Shit,” he said. “I look like I pissed myself.”
“Hair dryer?” Steve suggested. “If the bathroom isn't still, uh, occupied.”
“Decent idea,” Eddie said, offering Steve a hand up. “And for the record, you're probably thinking of the Devil. The whole pitchfork aesthetic,” he added at Steve's look of confusion.
“Is there a difference?” Steve asked, slowly opening the door out of an abundance of caution.
“I mean, there is in D&D, but – eh, never mind.” Eddie stepped through into the room after him, reaching back in to straighten a few items on hangers.
“Wait, like, the dragon game?” Steve asked, turning halfway around.
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Look, it's not evil. I know what people say, but —”
“No, I know,” Steve interrupted. “My kids – well, kids I sort of babysit, they play it.”
“Okay one, that's deeply cool, and two, you babysit?”
Steve shrugged. “They just started high school, so they don't really need it anymore,” he bluffed. “They're honestly pretty great kids.”
“What else do I not know about you?” Eddie asked, an intrigued look on his face.
So much, Steve thought. “Wouldn't you like to find out?” he said with a smug grin, hoping it covered up the momentary drop in his stomach.
“Sure would, angel,” Eddie said, plopping the halo back on Steve's head. “C’mon, let's get out of here.”