Part One
“Jeff. Jeffers.” Eddie starts, as soon as he opens the door to Jeff’s bedroom, ignoring the way it slams into the wall with the force of it. “I am about to lose my shit.”
“So a normal Saturday, then?” Jeff replies, looking up from the music magazine he’s flipping through, not moving from where he’s reclined across his bed.
Navy blue comforter, pale grey sheets, tucked in tight. His mother’s influence, Eddie knows. Jeff’s mom is a good woman, is cool with the band, and the metal, and the DnD — but she’s a total neat freak. So Jeff makes his bed perfectly everyday, so she won’t barge into his room and do it for him. He bought himself a Motorhead poster from a record store in Bloomington once, and his mom framed it.
So there was Eddie’s room, with all his posters and banners haphazardly tacked to the walls and stuck to the mirror; and then there was Jeff’s, with his carefully curated selection of framed posters. Not very metal, Eddie thought. Jeff always said that if that’s what it took for his mom to accept to metal music? He’d take it.
Eddie shuts the door behind him, making sure it closes with a swift kick of his socked foot, before turning back to his best friend.
“Worse than normal, Jeffy-boy.” Eddie says, emphasising with his hands before gripping them tightly. “I bumped into Henderson at Melvalds this morning and he would not shut the fuck up about Harrington the entire time he trapped me in conversation.”
“Ah,” Jeff simply replies, closing his magazine and placing it off to the side, out of the way. “So it’s a Harrington breakdown today? I’ll clear my schedule.”
“Jeff,” Eddie says, trying to sound stern with all the emphasis on the word, but he’s smiling. Watches as Jeff pats an empty spot on the mattress next to him. He rolls his eyes, playing it up, before flopping face first onto the bed beside Jeff. He groans into the mattress, a long, drawn out sound, and can hear Jeff chuckling at the sound of it. “Please.”
Jeff pats his shoulder comfortingly, hand warm and steady, before Eddie rolls over. Stays laying down, and looks up at the swirly patterns of Jeff’s popcorn ceiling.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” Jeff laughs, before turning to look down at Eddie. “So. Harrington.”
Eddie groans again, ignoring the sound of Jeff’s laughter. “I made the mistake of asking Henderson what he was doing later — trying to make fucking small talk, or something — and apparently our little sheepie is hanging out with Steve Harrington.”
“Wait,” Jeff says with a start, his brows furrowing. “Harrington hangs out with freshman nerds? Willingly? And he knows Dustin?”
“Fucking apparently,” Eddie exclaims, throwing his hands up into the air and letting them fall back down onto the mattress with a thump. “Henderson would not shut up about how cool it was Steve was hanging out with him, like he was trying to brag about it to me. Asking me if I fucking knew Steve Harrington like, hello? I live in Hawkins, everyone knows who Harrington is.”
“I was gonna ask if he was lying,” Jeff starts, bringing his hand up to his jaw to absently press and pick at his skin as he thinks. “But you’d think he’s smart enough to lie about something believable, at the very least.”
“He’s definitely lying,” Eddie replies, sighing, letting all the air exit his lungs in one slow exhale. “Because I cannot handle it being the truth. Harrington being hot, rich, charming, and nice to nerds like us? No way.”
“I was wondering when the crush was going to make it’s appearance,” Jeff replies, finally letting himself flop down beside Eddie. Rumpling his nicely made sheets, not caring as his abandoned magazine falls to the floor.
“Oh it’s been here the whole time Jeffothy,” Eddie says, stretching his legs out before letting them relax again. Picking at the navy blue fabric beneath him. “As soon as Dustin said Harrington’s name I felt my traitorous heart speed up.”
Eddie wasn’t lying and he a little felt ridiculous about it. Like some leading lady in a rom-com, the second the words Steve Harrington left Henderson’s mouth he felt his heart clench, his pulse quicken, and a horrid combo of shame and wanting curl around his stomach. His crush on Steve was always there, simmering in the recesses of his mind like the burning embers of a fire. Just waiting for something to come along and set it alight.
“And that’s the main reason you’re losing your shit?”
“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, sounding a little defeated, before perking himself up and sitting up, the mattress bouncing beneath him. Pushing those thoughts to the side. Thoughts of Steve Harrington and his amazing hair. His charming smile and warm eyes. Thoughts about him leaning in towards Eddie as they make conversation, so much Eddie can smell his cologne, his shampoo. And Steve will ask him questions about DnD, and actually sound interested about what Eddie would say back. Shaking his head a little, Eddie forces himself to not get lost in the fantasy. “But enough about me, Sir Jeffington the Just. Any progress with Chrissy?”
Jeff just snorts, looking up at Eddie. “You say that like there’s progress to be had.”
“Come on,” Eddie starts, nudging Jeff’s side. “There’s gotta be something.”
“Not really,” He replies, taking a deep breath. “I stare at her in the halls at school like a lovesick fool and I don’t think she even knows who I am. There’s no way one of the cheerleaders knows my name.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Eddie replies, pushing himself up off of Jeff’s bed and heads over to his desk, pushed up under the window. He had started to feel that itch under his skin, the twitching of his fingers, that feeling that he just couldn’t sit still anymore. So he moves to the desk, seats himself on Jeff’s nice office chair with the wheels, and fidgets with the mini’s he has scattered on the desk. “You’re hot and charming as hell, at least one of them has gotta know your name.”
“Not Chrissy though,” Jeff says, self-deprecating, pushing his socked foot along the carpet from where it hangs off the bed, gathering static. “Come on.”
Eddie sighs, long and drawn out and dramatic — turning into more of a groan at the end. They had done this song and dance before, Eddie hyping Jeff up, and his best friend responding with self deprecation. Jeff was a guy who was confident in himself, in his hobbies and interests — but when it came to love, he faltered.
Eddie could understand. They were both freaks who’ve never dated anyone, with crushes on two of the most popular teens in Hawkins. Peak conformists. It was never gonna happen but Eddie wanted.
“Fine.” He concedes. “We’re both pathetic, happy now?”
“Thrilled,” Jeff snorts, before sobering. “I just don’t want to get my hopes up, y’know? She’s with Jason and she’s not about to dump him to start looking my way.“
“I know,” Eddie replies, voice also sobering, so there’s something quieter about it now. He gently spins on the chair, pushing himself back and forth with his feet. Trying not to fidget too much, trying not to pick and rip at his nails. “I’m just trying to live vicariously through you a little because I am not handling my conversation with Henderson well. Chrissy just seems one step closer to us than Harrington. At least she’s still at Hawkins High and we actually see her on the regular. But what if Henderson is telling the truth and Steve like, picks him up from Hellfire? Leaning on the door frame, swinging his keys around his fingers, raising an eyebrow all sexy-like. Looking at me from across the room.”
“You think Henderson knows Chrissy as well?” Jeff jokes, sitting up and crossing a leg underneath himself. “Think he could put in a good word?”
Eddie snorts, rotating one of Jeff’s minis between his hands. “Definitely. That nerd is slowly collecting all the sexy jocks in Hawkins, just for us.”
There’s a moment of silence, slowly thickening in the air between them before Jeff sighs and looks up at the ceiling. “What would I even say to her? Hey Chrissy, I’m the DnD freak who thinks you’re super hot. I definitely haven’t started daydreaming about going to basketball games just so I can watch you cheer, wanna go out?”
“Oh my God, Jeff,” Eddie laughs, wiggling his legs, unable to contain himself.
“I know,” Jeff exhales with a laugh.
“When I asked if there was any progress on the Chrissy front,” Eddie says, laughing. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”
“Because it’s embarrassing! I’m so down bad it’s ridiculous.”
“This is a safe space, Jeffrey,” Eddie adds, nodding sagely. “I told you about how I started selling after games last year just so I could have an excuse to watch Harrington play. Did you see his thighs? Woof.”
“I did not see his thighs because I was busy lying to the others about how you were there because it was prime selling time, and you needed the extra cash to help Wayne,” Jeff adds, laughing., voice dropping into something more coy. Teasing. “And you definitely weren’t there because you were drooling over the idea of Harrington crushing your head in between his thick, sweaty, thighs.”
“As is my right, Jeff!” Eddie exclaims, feeling a little lighter, giddier, electric. A buzzing under his skin. Eddie launches himself off of the chair and towards Jeff — wrapping his arms around his waist and laughing all the while. Sending them both crashing into the mattress, rumpling Jeff’s neatly made bed even further. His face is pressed into Jeff’s chest, fabric of his Black Sabbath shirt soft against Eddie’s skin.
It always makes him feel better, talking about this sort of stuff with Jeff, letting it out, instead of holding it in. Eddie can feel Jeff laughing, his chest shaking underneath him as he wrestles Eddie off. Not hard enough to hurt.
He rolls off of Jeff, letting go of his waist, laughing as Jeff softly kicks him in the leg.
“I really can’t blame you though,” Jeff admits, looking over at Eddie. “Chrissy in that cheerleader skirt of hers is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s all about the thighs, I told you!” Eddie exclaims, laughing as he playfully shoves at Jeff again. Gripping the sleeves of his shirt, gently pushing and pulling him. His best friend lets himself be moved, used to Eddie’s shenanigans by now. “You want to give her a thigh hickey so bad, don’t ya, Jeffrey? Or maybe it’s her ass? All perky and round from cheer.”
Eddie cackles as Jeff covers his face with his hands, groaning, and almost definitely flustered. He drags his hands down his face, drawing out the groan, before tuning to Eddie.
“I’m trying so hard not to get too gross about this, dude,” Jeff starts. “But you are not helping.”
“Nothing wrong with being a little gross with your friends,” Eddie says, slowly stopping his shoving at Jeff, moving his hand to gently pick at a stray thread. “I know you’re not, like, gonna be gross with her. I mean, unless she likes it.”
“Eddie!” Jeff exclaims, although he’s smiling, as he shoves his best friend off the bed.
Part Three | Part Four | Part Five
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