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“Look, I’m not saying this is a bad idea, but I am saying this is a bad idea,” Steve stated as he and Eddie were getting ready to jump into the pool in his backyard from a dangerously high diving board made out of a couple garden tables put on top of each other. It was a warm summer night and the middle of a Steve Harrington party, the second one since the near end of the world. “It’ll be fun, don’t be a pussy, Harrington,” Eddie exclaimed, as if he himself wasn’t questioning their thought process when deciding to do this. However, his brain was scrambled from alcohol and he was in dire need of cooling down, wearing black skinny jeans and a long sleeve with a jean vest wasn’t the best course of action on a hundred degree day.
“If you say so, Munson,” Steve looked at Eddie, grabbed his hand and they jumped in the pool below them to the sound of excited screams of every other attendee of the party. Then Eddie’s body hit the water and he went under. Still holding Steve’s hand, they stayed under for a couple of seconds, staring at each other. Seeing vague shapes and colors, the chlorine was stinging in their eyes but there was a silent moment where Eddie thought he could see Steve clearly, Steve looking right into his eyes and smiling.
Steve was the first one to shoot upward towards the surface, letting go of Eddie’s hand and leaving him alone under the water. “That was awesome,” was the first thing Eddie heard as he joined the other boy back in the land full of oxygen. He threw his curls back and watched Steve push his fringe out of his face. “Wanna go again?”
“Oh hell no. I would most definitely grace your pool with the presence of my vomit if I did that again,” Eddie laughed and submerged himself back under the water, leaving only his head floating above, his eyes jittering from Steve’s smile to the barely visible stars in the night sky.
“I’m not sure your dirty ass crust pants are any better but suit yourself.”
“Shut up,” Eddie quickly raised his hand, throwing a bunch of water into Steve’s cracked up smile.
They went upstairs.
Steve’s room was so empty, Eddie thought, it almost acted as sad. Plain white walls, a double bed with grey sheets, one half of the closet full of Steve’s high school clothes and the other full of whatever he started wearing after graduation - most likely chosen out with the help of Robin. One Wham! poster above a cleaned up desk and white lace curtains around an open window.
“I’m guessing you want a shirt and sweatpants?” Steve voiced a rhetorical question after rummaging through the newer side of his closet. He pulled out a white t-shirt along with black sweats and threw them in Eddie's direction.
“Do you really expect me to wear a fucking ABBA shirt?” Eddie raised an eyebrow, unfolding the graphic t-shirt lended to him by the brunette.
“Yes? I can offer Wham! instead if that suits your music taste better,” Steve said, grinning, holding a white t-shirt to his chest with the words “WHAM!” printed on it. Instead of an answer Eddie just turned to face the other way than Steve was standing and started changing out of his soaking wet clothes.
“You look pretty,” Steve smiled when they were facing each other again, and Eddie pretended the redness on his cheeks was from alcohol. It wasn't that long ago that he never considered Steve could be even slightly fun to hang around and now he was plagued with romantic feelings he couldn’t act on. Not because Steve was straight (they had established that impression was wrong a couple weeks ago, when they got high together along with Nancy, Robin, Jonathan and Argyle, and Steve started complaining to Robin about the guy he liked a smidge too loudly), it was because Steve liked someone and, how in hell, could that be Eddie? So he just chuckled instead of properly responding and threw himself on Steve’s bed. The ceiling was spinning.
“I mean it,” Steve proclaimed and laid down next to Eddie, so close the entire length of their arms were touching, from shoulders to fingertips. Eddie didn’t know if Steve didn’t notice from being drunk or if it was his intention, but in the moment he didn’t care and just enjoyed the tingling feeling of their skin touching.
“Right, and I’m the Hobbit.”
“I’m telling the truth,” Steve defended himself, pushing his body up by his elbow that was no longer touching Eddie’s, and looking down at the boy now under him. “I thought you would have gotten the hint when I was telling Robin about the guy I liked with you literally in the room with us, but then you didn’t or you didn’t like me back- but you kept acting the same way towards me so I was hoping you just didn’t get the hint. So I think it’s time to explicitly say it because, God, you’re so beautiful and I can’t stop thinking about your eyes and your smile and how your hands feel on mine and I cannot keep going on without you being mine.” He lightly stroked Eddie’s forearm with his thumb.
Oh.
Oh.
“I didn’t think you were talking about me. Honestly I never thought you, of all people, could like little old me,” Eddie smiled back at Steve, raising his free hand to cup Steve’s jaw. “Of course I like you back,” he whispered as if he was sharing a secret no one else could ever find out. Before he knew it Steve’s lips were on his own, and he was kissing Steve fucking Harrington. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was just the kiss, but Eddie felt like he was floating in the clouds.
And maybe the kiss was a bit sloppy, and maybe they kept bumping each other’s noses, and maybe their teeth kept clanking and they kept breathlessly apologising, but hell, they were kissing and they didn’t care about anything else.
Except they somehow ended up falling off the bed and laughing hysterically, while holding each other in their arms. Steve’s hands slowly moved to Eddie’s hips, and Eddie’s fingers got themselves entangled in Steve’s slightly wet hair and then they were kissing again, like there was no tomorrow.
“Dude, you are way too drunk for this,” Steve complained when they were back up on the bed, sitting cross legged and Eddie was holding Steve’s hand along with a small brush covered in black nail polish.
“Don’t call me dude or I’m gonna fuck up on purpose, dude,” Eddie replied teasingly, using all of his brain power to concentrate on painting Steve’s nails as precisely as he possibly could. “And believe in me a little would you? I’ve done this a million times, I’m basically a professional.”
“Sorry, baby, you’re doing an amazing job.” Eddie blushed at that, gave Steve a little kiss on the back of his hand, and went back to painting his nails.