Chapter Text
The Anti-Valentine’s Day Party is Eddie’s idea. Of course it is. He has Robin on board immediately, and his bandmates. But he can’t really host at his place. Gareth’s mom has seen more than enough of Eddie at practices, and he’s the only one with enough space for everybody. And then Robin starts bringing up more people… like Nancy and Jonathan.
“You can’t invite Byers and Wheeler to an anti-Valentine party! Aren’t they dating?”
“Maybe? I mean… they’re both back in Hawkins for the weekend and it’s like… their chance to see each other, because they’re in colleges in different cities, but I don’t know if that means they’re still together-together?” Robin shrugs. “Look, we can’t not invite Nancy, Nancy saved our asses in the Upside Down.”
That’s not a bad argument. He really can’t fight her on that one. She didn’t just save his ass in the Upside Down, she’s the reason he graduated, he can’t ice her out of his party on the one weekend she’s back in Hawkins for something other than a family function. And he doesn’t know Jonathan well, but his general impression is that they probably have more in common than not, in the grand scheme of things. He’s got nothing against getting to know him now, provided he and Nancy aren’t going to ruin the vibe of the party by being super lovey-dovey. But maybe they’re not. Maybe they’re just… exes who are friends. Like Nancy is with Steve.
Steve…
The reason for Eddie’s own aching heart. It’s not like he thinks it’s ever going to happen. They have this thing now, where Steve flirts back, but that’s just… Steve is like that, he rolls with it, maybe it’s that he’s a naturally flirtatious guy, or maybe it’s that he thinks it’s like a bit they’re doing. He knows it’s not real, he doesn’t let himself think he could just reach out for more than what he’s given. It doesn’t stop the want, whenever they get close.
Steve isn’t seeing anyone. Hasn’t really bothered with anyone in the time they’ve been friends. Maybe it’s that he already burned through the female population of Hawkins back in high school, maybe it’s that everyone their age is off at college– though Robin goes to the local community college, and surely there are more than enough girls there who are also saving up before transferring to a four-year. Maybe it’s just too much, to try and meet someone, when nobody can understand the shit they’ve all seen, the things they’ve fought against.
“Okay. Okay, Wheeler can bring Byers, as long as they don’t make out while the rest of us are busy being lonely.” Eddie groans. “And if you wanna bring anyone you go to school with, who’s lonely and miserable, I guess we’re gonna… hang out… shit, everywhere is too cold. Quarry? Cold. Lake? Cold, and also, I don’t wanna. Park? Cold. Woods?”
“Yeah, Eddie, I get the picture. Cold. Obviously we are not going to have a party out in the woods in February. Steve, duh.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course Steve’s invited–”
“No, I mean– Steve has a house? Where his parents will definitely not be?” She motions for him to speed up and get with the program. “Why aren’t we having this thing at Steve’s?”
“Because I didn’t think I could volunteer his house for a party I’m throwing. He’d be cool to?”
“I mean, he used to throw parties all the time. And he actually really likes Valentine’s Day, even though he’s been perpetually single the entire time we’ve hung out. Well, not single, like he used to go out with a lot of girls, but nothing ever… gelled, you know? Like, he never went out with someone who was Valentine-worthy, I guess. Since Nancy.”
“But Wheeler is definitely not getting back with Steve even if she’s not actually together-together with Byers?”
“Well, he says no. And she says no.”
“She does?”
“Yeah. And anything we might have thought we saw between them was a total moment of insanity, and neither of them is looking to do that again.”
“In that case, the worst that can happen is Steve says no to hosting.”
Robin raises an eyebrow at him, which he is a big enough man to ignore.
She has the green light to bring anyone from the local community college who doesn’t think Eddie is a murderer. The kids make a fuss about getting to come– Dustin won’t get to talk to Suzie, which he thinks qualifies him to attend, and Mike brings up the rejection of corporate valentine’s day, which… well, Eddie’s not sure how taking El to an anti-valentine’s day party is going to affect his relationship status, but if Nancy is with Jonathan and Mike finds out they got to come, that’s gonna be a whole thing, so Eddie just warns him that any lovey-dovey behavior will bring harsh social repercussions from all the miserable, lonely singles. Max actually sounded excited about a non-hearts and flowers option. She and Lucas could hang out without the pressure to be mushy about it, and… maybe she has a point. At that age, the pressure outweighs any benefit to getting the day ‘right’, but they can still go to a party and hang out and have fun. All the kids can.
But if any of them start making out in front of everybody, Eddie’s not above spilling drinks on fifteen year olds.
He spends time on crafting the mix tape for the evening– Love Stinks, then the inferior but thematically more appropriate song titled Love Bites, of course Love Kills… It’s unbearably corny, but Stupid Cupid goes on there as well, along with a couple songs he knows from Wayne’s record collection more than his own. When Steve agrees to host, he also offers to help with food and drinks, which is more than Eddie was going to ask, but with the expanded guest list, he’s not about to say no.
“So… it’s an anti valentine party?” Steve asks, the two of them pushing a grocery cart down the chip aisle together. “Grab those, I’m making onion dip. That works, right? I don’t, um… I don’t really know what an anti valentine’s day party is, but I’m guessing onions are fine if the point is that nobody’s kissing.”
“Yeah. Just… you know. Everybody who’s not miserable and single has all these options and all the fun and the attention and the fucking marketing. Well, except the kids, but it’s not like they have cars or money, so… they can come as long as they don’t flaunt their relationships. You know?”
“Sure. Right. So it’s something to do for miserable single people?”
Eddie tosses the Ruffles in the cart. “Lonely miserable single people, yeah. We deserve a party way more than everybody who’s already found love! No hearts, no flowers, no making out.”
“Oh. I mean, yeah. That makes sense. No hearts?”
“No hearts.”
“What if I bought a bunch of heart-shaped candy already? But– you know, platonic heart-shaped candy?”
If it was anybody other than Steve, Eddie thinks he’d be groaning and rolling his eyes and complaining about how much he missed the mark on this whole party theme, and was he going to hang up little cardboard cupids, but… it is Steve, and Eddie has never been one to say no to candy.
“As long as the rest of the party isn’t all cutesy or lovey-dovey… platonic heart-shaped candy is okay.”
“Just, when you said Robin suggested my place and you wanted to do this whole thing, and everyone would actually be able to get together, I thought it’d be nice, you know. To have some candy to pass out to everybody. I mean, if we’re all single and lonely and miserable, and nobody’s getting romantic candy, everyone should get platonic candy, you know?”
“I can’t believe there are more children in relationships than us…”
“Well, they’re getting candy anyway. They’re… like you said, they don’t have money to take each other on serious dates. Besides… even if Max and El get candy, no one gets boys stuff, you know? Dustin doesn’t even get to talk to Suzie all weekend. Apparently she’s having a ‘family evening’ followed by a whole weekend of church shit? Or something like that.”
“Despite the unfairness of his having a more serious relationship than I’ve ever had, he is my brother in misery and loneliness for this particular Valentine’s Day.” Eddie nods. “Seriously, though… I mean, I guess you did get girls when you were their age.”
“Yeah.” Steve’s expression sobers. “Maybe an anti-valentine party was a good idea. Those kids don’t need to be doing anything I did at their age.”
“Yeah. Same. I mean, I wasn’t doing anything that involved… dating, or making out. But I was still doing shit they don’t need to do.” Eddie snorts. They turn down the next aisle, and he picks up a six pack of the shittiest beer on offer. “Decoy drinks. This tastes like how goat piss smells. The minute one of those little shitheads thinks going to a real adult party means sneaking a beer, they’re getting a mouthful of liquid regret. We set these out, we keep the good shit hidden, we’re not responsible for baby’s first hangover.”
“Or for getting puke out of the carpets.” Steve agrees, staring off into the distance. “I had to rent a rug cleaner before my parents got back from a business trip, once. Twice. Not again, though. Nobody’s getting wasted– okay? I just…”
“Don’t want your house getting trashed? Yeah, no problem, man.”
“I lost my taste for that kind of party back in high school.” Steve says, though he does pick up a case of something more palatable. Something for the adults-who-know-their-limits end of the party guest spectrum.
“Yeah. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I’d lost my taste for everything, but I still know what you mean. Some shit… just isn’t really it, right? Like… nobody needs to be blacking out every other weekend, and I say that as the guy who used to make his money supplying parties like you used to have.”
“What, you never got high off your own supply?” Steve snorts, elbowing him.
“Yeah. Sometimes. But I mean, I know what I can take, you know? I dunno, I like not feeling so stressed, but I don’t like feeling out of control. I feel out of control enough sober.”
“Yeah. Yeah, that’s– that’s… I used to have fun with it, but now it’s like… Especially when I’m responsible for kids! It’s just more stressful to be high than it is to be sober, in case I gotta–”
“Babysit someone else, yeah.” Eddie nods. “Granted, most of my ‘babysitting’ experience has been less actual children, more people experimenting with drugs they swore they totally knew they could handle.”
He grabs some cola, from the non-alcoholic side of the aisle, so the kids have something to cleanse their palates with– or just opt for in the first place– and he does roll his eyes when Steve grabs two bottles of cherry 7-Up.
“What?”
“Pink and fizzy just feels a little…”
“It’s a new flavor!”
“It’s on thin ice.”
“Fine, then I’ll just put it in my fridge and drink it alone, and you don’t have to try it, and I won’t get out my mom’s punch bowl and pour it over ice cream.”
“... My mistake, the ice is thicker than it first appeared. Poured over ice cream, you say?”
“Yeah. Like, a ginormous float.”
That is definitely not a hosting move from Steve’s days as the keg stand king, but it sounds delicious enough that Eddie can forgive it being pink and fizzy-turned-frothy.
They finish gathering party provisions and pool their cash at checkout, where Eddie keeps his thumb over the month on his driver’s license, the year enough that the bored-looking clerk lets him buy beer without argument.
“So just to be clear, you’re saying I shouldn’t decorate for anti-valentine’s day with dozens of red roses?” Steve teases.
“Withered, dead roses, maybe.” Eddie laughs, helping him load up his trunk. “I’ll show up early to help set up, yeah?”
“That’d be great. I’ll, um, I’ll see you then. Valentine’s day. It’s– great.” Steve reaches up, tucking a curl behind Eddie’s ear, before closing the trunk on their bounty. “I’ll leave the garage around back open for you if you want. In case the weather’s lousy, you can pull in.”
Somehow, more than any of the meaningless flirting, that– that little bit of extra thought to Eddie’s comfort– hits home.
“Great.” He echoes.