I am addicted, a little
Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Fucking shit fuck.
He was babysitting again.
At least it wasn't a child though. It was Eddie. Maybe that was worse?
Didn't matter. He was stuck here, making sure that Eddie fucking munson didn't get killed.
Easy enough right?
Not really.
This was the second time that had moved location. The boat house had been found out by Jason and his gang of God fearing, adolescent bounty hunters. And skull rock by the incompetent group who called themselves the Hawkins police department. Ever since Hopper had died it had gone to shit.
Now they were in Steve's basement. His parents never went down there and it was Steve's space in the house.
Steve kicked a bit of dirt with his shoe, scowling when it stained his white sneaker Grey.
He turned to look at Eddie. The man was lying upside down on the bed, the ends of his hair nearly touching the floor.
He had a blank look on his face and Steve felt sorry for him. He remembered how it felt to have been thrown into this mess, only he hadn't been in the run as a suspected murderer when it had happened to him.
Steve sat down on the floor next to Eddie. Their heads were next to each other, both of then staring at a spot in the distance.
They sat in silence and Steve got incredibly uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat, started drawing things on the floor with his finger and brainstormed some questions he could ask.
"Why-uh. Why do you have a black handkerchief in your pocket?" he asked.
"What?"
"Why do you have a black handkerchief in your back pocket?" he asked again.
"Why do you wanna know?"
"Smalltalk?"
"Well Harrington, that is not a smalltalk question..." Eddie answered still looking at the distant point infront if him.
Steve turned his head to watch him. He studied him for a while. The way his forehead lead to his nose which ended in his lips. They were very nice lips. Eddie had a very nice face. But Steve's favorite bit of Eddie's face were the worry lines around his mouth, the ones you could only get by laughing a lot.
"Sorry...." Steve looked at his knees.
Next to him Eddie sighed.
"It's code for what I like. Other people who get the code will understand what I'm looking for." he explained.
"Like an ice cream flavor?"
"No idiot! Like sexually." Eddie answered.
"Oh, so like what are you looking for?"
"What?"
"Sexually, what does the black handkerchief mean, what are you looking for in a girl?"
"A penis..." Eddie stated matter of factly and oh.
Oh.
OK.
"You got a problem with that Harrington?"
"No, no not at all. I have a friend who is also uhm gay." Steve cleared his throat and wiped away the pretty pictures he had drawn in the dirt. Starting over.
"So what are you looking for in a guy then?"
"Why, are you asking? Interested?" Eddie asked and finally turned his head to look at him. His lips drawn into a thin line and the fact that he had to keep such a big part of himself a secret, written into the sharp edges of his face.
