ᴍᴜᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ- sᴛᴇᴅᴅɪᴇ

12- ᴍʏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴏᴍᴇ

The bathroom was small, only enough room for one, and it was pretty ordinary. A compact shower, a toilet, and a sink- the necessary requirements. Steve stepped in front of the basin, leaning his hands on the rim as he peered into the mirror. What he saw shocked him- not the eyeliner, but his eyes in general. The weed had done wonders in reddening his sclera, but he found himself really enjoying the new addition. And even though he couldn't wear it in public, and probably wouldn't wear it again, it was nice to of tried.

Having had enough time to do what he was doing, Steve stumbled out of the closet-sized room and headed back down the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught notice of a clock showing the time, and unfortunately, it was extremely late for a work night. It was certainly looking like Harrington would have to declare the end of their meeting sometime soon.
Upon reaching Eddie's doorframe, he leant himself against it, watching Munson for a moment before speaking.

"It's super late, did you know?"

Eddie looked over, lifting his wrist to check his watch.
"Oh yeah, so it is."

"Y'know, bit unfortunate, but I do actually have to work tomorrow-"

"That's nice." He scratched his eyebrow.

"which means," Steve continued. "that I have to get going."

From his position on the duvet, Eddie huffed. "Look at yourself, Steve."

Harrington blinked, slowly peering down at his clothing. Noticing nothing wrong, he looked back up.
"What?"

"You can't."

"What do you mean I can't?"

"You can't drive. Look at yourself."

He stood in the doorway, not exactly knowing what to say. "Oh, shit- yeah... well, I'll erh, have to walk or something."

The man shook his head in disapproval.

"Well, I cant exactly stay here, can I?"

Munson raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, peering out of the way of Steve's gaze before lowering them yet again.

"...I can?" Steve questioned in a slight test, startled at the new information. He didn't exactly want to stay, and would quite possibly do anything to get out of it, but by the look on the trailer-owner's face, there wasn't any other option with the state that he was in. Eddie was the more advanced out of the two with that sort of stuff, after all.

"Any objections?"

He thought for a moment. "No. I guess not."

So that settled it. The first time that Steve Harrington had got high on purpose and went to visit Eddie, he ended up having to stay. Brilliant.

The room filled with an ear-splitting silence once again, and each person knew what the other was thinking.
Without another second, Eddie raised from the bed, passed Steve in the doorway, scratching his cheek as he walked.
"I'll clear the couch."

Harrington followed through, watching as Munson piled up groups of clutter and transported them into different places in the room. Most of it was blankets and throw pillows, so didn't need much repositioning, but some of them, none the less, were tossed.
Once a surface was clear, the man stepped back to observe his work. With a nod and a gesture, Eddie retreated into the kitchen-end of the room, and stood awkwardly.
"There you go, Harrington. My home is your home."

Steve tilted his head slightly in a nod, and took a step towards his place for the night.

"Thanks, Eddie. Goodnight then, I guess."

"Goodnight, Steve."

-

It was kind of strange how the interaction had all been so fast. Maybe it hadn't, maybe the weed had just lengthened the minutes, but it seemed odd. Steve didn't complain though, as it stopped him from embarrassing himself in any way possible. Apart from the additional fail to not cough at the blunt, he didn't seem to think that he'd done anything too bad.

Laying there in the dark, blanket tucked carefully under his arms, Steve kept his clothing on from the day before, minus the jacket, and tried his best not to think about the day up-coming.
Hopefully he'd of been sober and down-to-earth enough to drive by the morning, and even though his head pounded at the idea of going to work, the obvious lack of alarm clock may of bought him the day off- not that he'd realised that there wasn't one.

The couch was fairly comfy, which was nice, wouldn't of caused too many back issues, and as Steve watched the blank darkness above him, little spirals of black danced and swayed in his vision. There was no noise apart from the occasional rasp of a dog bark, and the man didn't exactly know whether he was dreaming or not. Whichever it was, it sure was peaceful.

Having no idea what time it actually was, but knowing that it must've been some point in the early AM's, Steve let himself drift off into a sweet, serene sleep.