chitona | for inhairently

for inhairently

( This has been a frequent occurrence lately, Steve coming over to Eddie's to share a joint, or vice versa. Occasionally they would have a movie or music playing in the background, but mostly it was all about just the two of them shooting the shit. If you had told Eddie that he would eventually count Steve Harrington among his closest friends a year ago, he would have thought you insane.

Now look at him. He feels himself go completely limp as he lets the high take over, letting himself drift off into that pleasant space in between awake and asleep, leaning against Steve so pleasantly. And Steve seems to be in a similar state, not at all minding the physical contact.

And that's another thing, the fact that Steve doesn't mind how Eddie keeps encroaching on his personal space. Which just means Eddie keeps doing it, sometimes seeing just how far he can take it before Steve shoves him away, yet he never does.

There's also no filter for Eddie right now, so when he looks around at Steve's bedroom, his mind immediately latches onto the fact that this is the place where Steve's taken so many of his previous dates. He's curious to see if the rumors are true, but, well. Those dates were all women and Eddie very much decidedly is not.

Still, the lack of filter doesn't keep Eddie from blurting out, ) The Steve Harrington experience.

( And then winces, because Steve isn't going to follow, as he has no context for why he's suddenly been thinking about this. )

I want... ( Try that again. ) I mean, I'd like one Steve Harrington experience, please.

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( The road to accepting that Steve is definitely not as straight as he thought he was hadn’t been as rocky as he’d ever imagined it would be. (And the fact that he’d thought about it before may have been a clue as to why it was so easy.) There hadn’t really been a crisis or denial or anything like that. One day he’d just blurted it out in the middle of a conversation with Robin, and that was it.

It meant he could nurse this sappy, head-over-heels crush he has on Eddie without any hang-ups. He's pretty sure Eddie knows — like, why else would they be spending this much one-on-one time together, right? And Eddie can't possibly misinterpret all the physical contact.

Robin would say yeah, Eddie could definitely misinterpret it. And yeah, that there's a huge chance Eddie doesn't know. "You should tell him," she'd said the last time Steve had talked to her. "He definitely knows," he'd insisted, willfully ignoring Robin's dramatic sigh and roll of her eyes.

Eddie has to know. Steve doesn't think there's any other way they'd be practically cuddling in his bedroom right now, pleasantly high and with Eddie requesting the Steve Harrington experience.

Of course, that really could mean any number of things, but Steve thinks he has a pretty good idea as to what this particular experience might be. Still, he wants to hear Eddie say it. )

Sorry, but you’re gonna have to be a little more specific, ( he says with a lazy smile. Though the way he can’t resist reaching up and tucking a piece of Eddie’s hair behind his ear might give away that he knows what Eddie’s talking about. )

( See, here's the thing. Eddie doesn't know that Steve isn't straight. And he's not sober and definitely not thinking all of this through on why it's such a terrible idea to go about it this way.

Because this could just be interpreted as an experiment. Eddie has been that for a lot of guys before, letting them try out the whole "gay thing" and then go back to pretending they're straight as an arrow. But Steve isn't any of those guys, and Eddie doesn't want to be just an experiment.

But he wants to know. He's surrounded by this horrific plaid, and he needs to know, needs to put himself into the shoes of every girl that's been here before. Especially when Steve goes and brushes his hair behind his ear, causing Eddie's bottom jaw to drop a little in surprise. )

I mean, you've got me here, right? ( He gestures around to Steve's bedroom. ) Here where many a lady has been before. How does Steve Harrington woo a lady?

( Wooing ladies? Why would they talk about — shit. Maybe Steve's had this wrong all along. Eddie wants girl advice. That... makes a lot more sense, yeah. Steve tries to keep a neutral expression because he doesn't think he could fumble his way through an explanation in his current state of mind if Eddie happened to question why he looks so disappointed. )

Oh. Well... usually the, um, wooing would've been done already, you know? Like, that's why I'd have someone up here in the first place. ( He shrugs and offers Eddie a crooked half-smile. ) So yeah. I bring 'em up here and... boom. The magic happens.

( Said as if that explains it all.

It hurts, this not-quite-heartbreak. It's the realization — "of course it's not me, it could never be me." Steve feels like the biggest shmuck to ever walk the planet right now.

But he's not an asshole. Or, he's less of one than he used to be, at least. If Eddie wants advice, he'll try to help. ) Why? You got your eye on someone?

( Wait, no, this isn't going the way he thought he would. Shit. Maybe Eddie should have been more forthright with what he meant. That's part of the problem with being stoned out of his goddamn mind. But if he weren't stoned he wouldn't have even been broaching this subject. )

The magic. Yes, that --

( Steve asks him if he has his eye on someone and Eddie almost blurts it out right then and there. But he holds himself back before he makes a mistake that he can't undo. There is no doubt in his mind that if he admits that he's doing this because he has his eye on Steve that it would be the end of their friendship as he knows it. And he definitely can't have that. )

Just call me curious. Just wanna see if the rumors are true. ( It's not a total lie, at least. )

( Steve blinks slowly. There are a lot of rumors Eddie could be talking about. You don't become King Steve without a trail of gossip to follow, after all. Some of them are bad, of course, but many of them are good and helped him cultivate the reputation Eddie seems so fascinated by.

Only a handful would really be applicable here, and, well. If Eddie's curious about the rumor that he's an excellent lay, they aren't exactly in the right frame of mind to test that one out. He's already determined that Eddie isn't interested in that anyway, which also rules out the rumor that Steve's a very good kisser.

That leaves... uh. The one that he's hung. Which has always been one of his favorite rumors, and one he's pretty proud of, but he doesn't know why Eddie would care.

Steve's brows knit together in a lights-on-no-one's-home level look of confusion, and when he opens his mouth to speak again he sounds purely baffled. )

You wanna — ( He cuts himself off, starting over in a loud whisper in case someone might be eavesdropping in this big empty house. ) You wanna see my dick?

( Like... sure, why not, but he wants to confirm that's what's happening here before he just whips it out, you know? )

( Eddie lets out a noise that sounds almost like a whine when Steve asks if he wants to see his dick. Which, yes, that is definitely one of the things he absolutely wants, but that's not really what he meant. He wants the whole thing, but how does he explain that to Steve without completely giving himself away? )

I...yes...no...I mean...

( He cringes at himself, stammering like an idiot. Maybe he shouldn't have done this while he's completely stoned, but it's not like he would be any smoother without something in his system. )

( He turns to Steve, placing a hand on his shoulder, and trying to maintain eye contact. )

I want it all. Treat me like one of your French girls.

( Surely that is enough to spell it out for Steve, right? )

( Don't let the tiny picture fool you — Steve is not suddenly bloodied and bruised, but his expression is akin to the same look one might wear when learning the girl one's crushing on is not, in fact, into dudes. )

I'm not— ( he starts to say, planning on finishing that sentence with "in French." But that much is obvious. He's graduated, duh, so he's not in any classes anymore. But he'd never taken French, so what's Eddie talking about?

There's a long moment (it's not really that long — a few seconds, maybe — but in weed time it feels like an eternity) in which Steve's brain struggles to catch up with itself, and then everything clicks. He gets it. )

Oh. Oh.

( Now he has to take a moment to try to come to terms with the fact that in the span of, like, five minutes he's gone from thinking he and Eddie were on the verge of becoming an item, to thinking Eddie wanted girl tips, to... this. Whatever this is. A hookup? Hm.

Any other time, with anyone else, he might've been super into the idea. But now? )

I can't do that. I mean, like, I'm not saying I wouldn't have sex with you. Or, uh. Make out with you, I guess. Whatever it is you think I do with French girls. Because I would. I would totally do both of those things with you.

( He wants to be 100% clear on that. He absolutely would, but — )

It's just... you're stoned, man.

( Steve is also stoned, yeah, but he's pretty sure of his own feelings and he's not sure Eddie's thinking quite as clearly. The last thing he'd ever want to do is fuck up the friendship they've forged because of a stupid, weed-induced mistake. )

( It shouldn't hurt, because Steve is right. This is a shitty idea to do while stoned. It's just that, he doesn't have this level of confidence when he's sober. Which should be ridiculous, right? He'll put himself out there in the cafeteria and paint a target on his back so that nobody else has to bear the brunt of the bullying but him.

But he can't be honest with Steve Harrington.

And yet, wait, hold up. )

Wait a second. You would?

( Steve Harrington, not nearly as straight as Eddie thought. Which, should make him happy, right? So why is he pouting? )

I'm not that stoned. Besides, that'd just heighten the experience. ( And as if to emphasize his point, he reaches over and brushes his fingertips across Steve's arm. ) So what, we've gotta wait until I sober up then?

( Steve doesn't say anything. He glances down as Eddie touches his arm, then back up, eyes lingering on Eddie's mouth for a few seconds before he meets his eyes again.

He could be smart. He could tell Eddie how he actually feels, and explain that he'd been under the impression that Eddie felt the same way. Maybe he could even admit that up until today he'd been under the impression that they were more or less on the verge of going steady.

Or he could do the thing that he actually does. The ill-advised thing. The thing where he cups Eddie's jaw, brushes his the pad of his thumb gently over Eddie's lower lip, and leans in to kiss him. )

( Eddie half expects Steve to tell him to fuck off and insist that, yeah, they should wait until Eddie sobers. So when Steve does lean in to kiss him, Eddie is taken by surprise, but melts right into the kiss. And damn him. Damn Steve and being so good at this, because now that he has had a taste, Eddie know he's going to want more.

He's going to want so much more than just one kiss, and Eddie is still convinced that he can't have more than just this one night. Because this is Steve, and Steve doesn't do more than one night stands unless they're people like Nancy Wheeler, and Eddie is very much not Nancy. But this kiss -- it's everything Eddie could have ever possibly wanted, almost verging on too much, to the point where when Eddie eventually pulls back for a quick breath, he leans right back in to kiss Steve again, this time making sure it's a much deeper kiss.

Because, if this is the only time he gets to kiss Steve, he's going to make damn well sure it's the best kiss of his fucking life. )

( There's a tiny, sensible voice in the back of Steve's mind that currently screaming at him at the top of its tiny, sensible lungs. This is stupid, it's saying, and, you need to stop. He knows it's true. He knows he needs to put some space between him and Eddie before this goes too far, and Eddie walks away with a fun story about the time he made out with Steve Harrington stoned, leaving Steve to gather the pieces of his stupid, desperate heart on his own.

Still, he doesn't stop. He doesn't pull away when Eddie goes in for a second, deeper kiss. Instead he threads his fingers through that mane of wild hair, letting his hand come to rest at the base of Eddie's skull. His teeth graze Eddie's lower lip as he slips his tongue into Eddie's mouth. He doesn't want to stop because this is so, so good, and the moment it's over it's going to hurt.

But as much as he'd love to sit here on his bedroom floor having a lazy, stoned makeout session with Eddie Munson for, like, ever, they... can't. Not if Steve's going to walk away from this with some chance of still acting normal and casual and totally platonic around Eddie later. He's the one to eventually break the kiss, but he doesn't sit back, not yet. Their faces remain less than an inch apart. )

There, ( he sighs in a voice barely above a whisper. ) The Steve Harrington Experience. ( He snorts a laugh that's not much more than a sharp exhale through his nose. ) Did it live up to your expectations?

( This is a mistake, a tiny voice in the back of his head warns Eddie. Now that Eddie has gotten a taste, he is not satisfied at all. But that's all it was supposed to be, right? A taste? Just because Steve said he would have slept with him doesn't mean shit. Steve sleeps with so many people, or at least he used to, during high school.

When Steve finally pulls away, Eddie lingers there for a while, keeping his eyes closed and lips pursed, almost as if waiting for Steve to dive back in. He feels his heart thumping inside his chest. His traitorous heart.

Slowly, he lets his eyes flutter open again. He thinks the kiss must have sobered him even more, though he can’t know if he isn't just incredibly stoned and not realizing it. He clears his throat and lets out a nervous laugh as he struggles to go along with Steve. It had been simultaneously too much and not enough, and Eddie doesn't know where that leaves him; where it leaves them.

Shit. )

Exceeded them, ( he murmurs, inwardly cursing how wrecked his voice sounds from just a kiss. ) No fucking wonder you charmed so many people in here.

Yeah?

( It takes a minute for Steve to realize he's got a goofy smile plastered across his face, but he does his best to flatten it into something neutral. There are a lot of things he wants to say. "I like you so much" is the main one, maybe with a side of "my days are better when I get to see you" and "I really thought you felt the same way."

He feels as if he's on the same course he'd been on with Nancy here, just on fast-forward from crush to heartbreak like he's running some kind of terrible romance sprint. Eddie can't know, though. Steve won't let some misinterpreted signals screw up their friendship. )

The Eddie Munson Experience wasn't so bad either, ( he says, still quiet as he breaks into a teasing grin. ) I can't complain.

( Eddie has never been very good at receiving compliments or flirting attempts, immediately growing flustered from the praise. He pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide behind, feeling his cheeks heat up. )

Well, you know. If you ever want a repeat of that, you know where to find me.

( He knows he's fumbling to find the same level of casualness. He can only hope that it's not increasingly obvious, especially when he can't stop staring at Steve, that he really wants to dive in for another taste. Goddammit, why did he have to be so stoned? Eddie cannot get out of this until he sobers up, and he doesn't think he will make it out unscathed if he sticks around much longer. )

( Steve feels as if he finally understands what real, true pain feels like. It's not having your drunk girlfriend call you bullshit to your face. It isn't even being torn into by fucked up alien bats.

It's whatever the hell this unrequited shit storm is — getting a taste of something you want so badly and knowing it doesn't mean the same thing to them that it means to you.

Suddenly a really, really bad idea hits him. Sober Steve would realize it's fucking awful and shouldn't be entertained for a second, let alone actually suggested. Stoned-as-fuck Steve feels as if he may have just cracked the code to understanding the universe. )

We could, um. We could do a, uh, friends-with-benefits thing, if you're into it, ( he blurts out. This is absolutely why they shouldn't be talking about this stuff when they smoke. ) I swear it wouldn't get weird. I just— I was thinking, since we're both in dry spells, you know? It could work.

( Shit. It feels like too much of a good thing. It's exactly what he wants, only at the same time, it's not nearly enough. Eddie knows this will blow up in his face, yet he can't not say yes.

Not when Steve looks so goddamn endearing like this. Not when the taste of Steve's lips still lingers on his own.

He can't help but think of the many other situations he's been in like this. Never the boyfriend, always the situation. It's almost sour enough to replace that more pleasant, uniquely Steve sensation he still feels. )

Yeah? I mean, if that's something you're interested in. ( Be casual, he reminds himself. He's not about to ruin this before it even begins. )

Yeah! Absolutely.

( This is stupid. This is so goddamn stupid.

Yet Steve can't seem to shut his idiot mouth. )

Anytime you wanna make out or hook up or whatever just let me know, man. I'm easy.

( He doesn't mean it like that but he might as well, he thinks, and he can't help but chuckle a bit at his unintentional double entendre. (Why oh why do they have to be so stoned?) )

( Eddie feels his heart beating rapidly. He's being far too greedy just thinking about it. He knows this is going to crash and burn on him, yet he can't help himself. )

So...if I were to say now...?

( He searches Steve's eyes as if testing the waters to see just how much he means it. If he really means anytime or if he's just saying that. And dammit, Eddie can still taste Steve on his lips, and all it's doing is making him want to kiss Steve again. )

( Becoolbecoolbecoolbecool, Steve orders himself. He wants to say something really charming. He wants to seem like he really is as casual about the whole thing as he's trying to act.

What actually happens is something else entirely. He stares at Eddie's lips for a full second (ten minutes in weed brain time) before leaning in for another slightly clumsy kiss. )

Now's good, ( he mumbles into Eddie's mouth, as an afterthought. )

( Eddie doesn't know how he's managing to keep composure through all of this. As soon as Steve's lips are back on his again, he immediately melts into the kiss and leans backward, practically pulling Steve on top of him.

It doesn't have to mean anything. Eddie tries to convince himself. But as he keeps on kissing Steve and hooks a leg around his waist to keep Steve there, he knows that the chance of it still meaning nothing is slim to none. He can only hope he's not the only one feeling similar effects from this, but considering the Munson doctrine, he doesn't have such high hopes. )

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