Take on Me

Chapter 5: Is It Life Or Just To Play My Worries Away?

The sun began to rise in Hawkins, Indiana at the same time that Steve Harrington's right eye began to crack open from a four-hour nap. He wanted to sleep eight hours, but his blinds were open, making the sun incredibly bright to ignore, even if his eyes were closed.

Steve laid still as his right eye adjusted, soon followed by his left. After a few moments, he looked at his ceiling fan spinning round and round. After his brain caught up with his sight, he realized he wasn't looking at his bedroom fan, but his living room fan. Steve's eyebrows knitted together in confusion at this. He slowly turned his head to the side to see if he was genuinely lying on his couch, and that is when he saw a messy head of curls attached to a body sprawled out across his carpet.

"Munson?" Steve whispered out loud as confusion started to sink more into him.

"What, Harrington?" Eddie surprisingly asked back, with a bit of annoyance in his tone.

"What are you doing here?"

"Trying to sleep." the boy deadpanned as he turned from his stomach, so he was now propped up on one arm to look at Steve. The metalhead looked exhausted.

"Fuck, you look tired. I'm sorry." Steve apologized as he sat up and swung his legs over, so they hit the floor. "Go back to sleep; I'll just make myself a cup of coffee."

"No," Eddie said, shaking his head as he sat up. "Make two cups. I can't go to sleep right now even if I tried."

Steve nodded and then got up to walk to his kitchen. As he walked around, he internally groaned at the mess surrounding him. Cups, plates, empty beer cans, (silly string?), and much more covered Steve's floor. He had totally forgotten that he threw a party last night. His morning was about to be absolutely terrible. He could feel it.

When Steve got to his coffee pot, he started to brew a dark roast his father had picked up from Italy. As he waited, he heard Eddie shuffle into the kitchen. Steve turned to see the grouchy rocker as he scratched at his head with a loud yawn.

"You know, you didn't have to sleep on the floor," Steve spoke softly as he looked the metalhead over with a soft smile.

"Where else could I have slept?" Eddie snapped. Steve knew it was only due to his tiredness, so he didn't take the attitude to heart.

"Beside me." Steve shot out so he couldn't swallow it back. It was a bold thing to say. Maybe he wasn't entirely sober yet. He looked over Eddie's face, which was made up of furrowed eyebrows and a slight smirk.

"On the couch?" Eddie asked, trying to bite back something Steve couldn't fully recognize.

"Yeah, man." Steve nodded. "It's a big ass couch. It could have fit us both. It's better than the floor." Steve shrugged at the last part, trying to seem nonchalant.

Eddie nodded as his eyes trailed over Steve, trying to figure out the jock's meaning behind his words. Steve wasn't going to give the meaning up, though, at least not right now. He wasn't that drunk.

"How do you take your coffee?" Steve asked as the timer went off on his machine.

"Black," Eddie spoke as he licked his lips in excitement for his energy juice.

"Black?" Steve spoke as his eyebrows shot up. "There's no way you think that's good, Munson."

"What do you prefer then?" Eddie shot back.

"Three sugars and milk," Steve spoke as he handed the rocker his dark roast.

"No, that just ruins the flavor of what coffee is supposed to taste like." the metalhead spoke after taking a sip from his mug.