The Drive-In

11

If all the people Eddie had ever met were in some kind of encyclopedia, the picture of Steve Harrington wouldn't look anything like the giggling guy in front of him right now. He'd have his hair just so, with a characteristic smarmy look on his face, maybe with his signature sneer. Certainly not a guy with a smile so wide it pushed up the apples of his cheeks until his eyes were almost completely closed.

Eddie figures, at this point, it would only be another thirty minutes or so before Steve would be heading to snooze city. He clearly hadn't partied like this in a while, and though part of Eddie wanted Steve to be out of sight as soon as possible, he didn't want him to overindulge too much and make himself ill.

Out of sight and out of mind.

Then Eddie's intoxicated brain could come back down to earth and stop thinking those impossibly tempting thoughts. Thoughts that Eddie had, other than one exception, reserved for girls only.

How beautiful their laugh sounded. How their eyes sparkle when they smile. How he wanted to be the only one that drew out those wild laughs and uncontainable smiles from them. How they smelt. How they felt under his hand. How it felt to be under theirs. How he wanted to be closer to them in every way. How he wanted to wrap them up in himself so he could take the bumps, so they never knew pain again.

He knew it was the cocktail of chemicals in his system, so he let the thoughts be for now. He knew he'd be alone soon enough, so he wouldn't have to worry about acting on them, and he knew Steve was so far gone he wouldn't pick up on anything subtle that Eddie might accidentally slip up with. Steve had literally just been holding Eddie's hands with no issues at all.

Eddie shakes his head, watching Steve, and finds himself unable to wipe the enormous adoring grin from his face. He knew this moment would always have to be his secret, but that was ok with Eddie.

It was just the two of them, no one else could see, and the way Steve was acting, he wouldn't remember any of this. So the fear and defences Eddie had been covering himself in could be shed.

He takes a last mental snapshot.

He slaps his hands on his knees and gets up from the lounger, "Well, I gotta go take a leak. Don't do anything dumb while I'm gone, ok, Harrington?"

Steve looks at him with heavy-lidded eyes, still giggling, "Alright, Daaaaad!"

As Eddie walks through the house, he hears a faint, "My name is Steeeeeve!" Chuckling to himself and stumbling a little, he eventually finds the bathroom.

Washing his hands, Eddie thinks he hears the faint sound of a beat. Steve must have put some music on or something. Then he hears something else, scraping, a few thuds. Eddie frantically dries his hands and runs out of the bathroom, expecting to find Steve at the bottom of the stairs or fallen over in a heap.

What Eddie wasn't expecting was to find all the lights out, all the furniture pushed to the edges of the room, music blaring, and Steve sway dancing, beer in hand, one of Eddie's pre-rolled joints hanging out of the corner of his mouth, fast forwarding and playing a tape in the stereo.

That smile erupts on Eddie's face again, and he's about to jog over there and tell him off for smoking in the house or wind Steve up in some other way when something occurs to him. Steve hasn't acknowledged he's there.

Eddie recognizes the beat and funky bass line that blares out of the speakers. It's Disco. It's 'You Should Be Dancing'.

Suddenly Steve changes from gentle sway to walking to the back of the room. His leg kicks out to one side and then sharply kicks it behind his other, his hands pointed at angles like a clock. Then he dances forward, pretends to do up his nonexistent cufflinks, grabs his belt, and wiggles down toward the ground.