[He does look, like he has some morbid curiosity as to what it's like to be eaten rather than fucking impaled. He wonders which hurt worse, in the end. Idly, he reaches for the buttons of his own shirt, starts undoing them from the midway up all the way down, hauling the ends out of his jeans. ] He tell you how I went out?
[They're still a little purple, some others faded white. The further he spreads his shirt though, the clearer the damage: one just below his sternum, the others peppered across his hips and waist, clean through to the back. ] Tentacles. I got kebab'd.
[It sure is, and he sure is not bothering to button it back up. He taps the one under his left peck with his knuckle, screwing up his nose. ] Yeah, I thought about it here, but man I don't know. They do scar removal now? Sounds insane.
[Painful. He might do it. Can't fuck up his body anymore than he already has. ]
Shut the fuck up, Munson. You're telling me it doesn't freak you out that they just laser shit off your body?
[Listen!! That's weird!! He will drink to that! He is at least a little animated now, gesturing a little with the glass hand:] And don't get me started on the music. Have you heard that shit? The fucking sad boy music?
[The guitar is fire; he's into it, despite the initial caution. He nods to it, takes a sip, and then the fucking voice, and Billy Hargrove honest to god loses it on Eddie Munson's bed, howling with laughter, knocked onto his back.
It's a bark, the noise so rare that he has trouble controlling it. He flings an arm over his eyes, and wheezes: ] Are you fucking kidding me, Munson -
[ there we go. eddie watches the display and can't help but laugh himself, satisfied to have shared something he found personally delightful and found it landing.
dudes like billy hargrove don't laugh enough. it makes them mean as shit. and chilling out can't cure everything, but it can cure a lot. ]
[ He can't believe they upped and left. Talk about goddamn rude! Once he's dressed — leather jacket with a fur collar, red top, fresh pants and boots, all in the modern style that he feels suits him best — and feeling more like he's in control, he heads down to Eddie's room. The door gets a brief rapping before he lets himself in. ]
Hey, dickheads! When I said I wanted to go out I didn't mean alone —
[ The sight of them lounging on the bed isn't a surprise but the extra nudity Billy sports is. Why is his shirt open? Steve's animated irritation blanches and he halts on the spot. He switches his attention from Billy to Eddie, uncertain. ]
[He is still laughing into his arm, and somehow Steve walking in is even funnier, because:]
Do you hear this shit? The fucking pirate metal - [There are honest to god tears in his eyes. His whole face is lit up with laughter - real laughter, the kind his mom used to inspire, the kind he reserved for -]
Nothing major. [ he'll go ahead and turn the volume down to a reasonable level, flashing steve his charming little smile. ] Exchanging war stories and admiring all that this era has to offer.
[ but ]
Where exactly are you planning on taking us? [ aka can i douse myself in axe or do i need to go take an actual shower
the answer is always the second one but he hopes ]
[ He hasn't felt jealous of anyone but Jonathan in a long time, it's a twist in his gut he doesn't process quickly. It's just Eddie and Billy being idiotic stoners, he knows, loud music and all. He imagined they would be holed up like this.
Wryly, as Steve's hands find his hips to brush his coat aside, he wonders if a Demogorgon will walk through the wall. ]
There's a bar with a dark throne in it, I thought you might like it. [ Apparently it's already a party here though. ] We can go another time.
The fucking mom pose again - do you see that, Munson? He’s always looking at me like that.
[you’re out by curfew, billy.
More importantly:] Am I interrupting date night? [He hopes he is. He might be beaming like a regular guy but by god, he really hopes he has fucked date night up here.]
Given your track record, can you blame him? [ he'll risk giving billy's shoulder a little shake as he stands up and... goes to find clothes that he hasn't worn yet. he's got dry shampoo and cologne. ] Dude's saved the world like three times, he can power mom stance if he wants to.
[ hmmmm he'll leave that one for steve to answer ]
[ He drops his hands to his sides, far too aware of them all of a sudden as he folds his arms a moment later. It doesn't currently feel like he saved the world once, not with Billy staring with eyes like lasers. ]
Do up your damn shirt and you can tag along, Hargrove. May as well since you've both pre-gamed together.
Fuck you, Munson, I’m a delight. [The tone is right here; joking as he sits up on his elbows to give Steve a look. A full thirty seconds to change his mind before he’s up, downing his glass and patting Steve on the chest.] Keep it up Harrington and I might think you want me around.
[But sure, he does up some of his buttons. Enough to hide the worst of the damage, anyway. Not enough that a full tit is on view, but that’s for the ladies. It’s a public service.]
[ Eddie, meanwhile, just yanks his shirt off and tosses it into the pile on the floor, yanking the fresh one over his wild mop of bedhead. He's got the decency not to strip further - opting instead to duck into his bathroom to wiggle into a pair of torn skinny jeans, before just
blasting himself with scent-b-gones. ]
Play nice and we just might. [ ... actually these jokes work less well when he's not the only queer man in the room. eddie grabs a hair tie and steps out, snapping his snarled mess of hair up and off his shoulders. ]
[ Now that he knows Billy has a thing for him it's harder to ignore the sassy come-ons (because that is what they are and always were, big revelation) and he swallows as Billy pats his sweatshirt, inwardly having a mild panic about the fact he's finding him attractive. He doesn't mind those buttons being undone.
Did Eddie just imply they're going to invite Billy to stay? Steve isn't sure his gay-o-meter is full enough to divest the imagery that springs up. He snags the bottle of Skull Vodka and necks a mouthful, coughing as a result. The burn is a good distraction ... When he turns to see Eddie sweeping his hair up, Steve actively resists the urge to help with the stray strands and touch, back-pedalling to the door. ]
Let's go already, the night is young.
[ One last swig (and grimace) before he sets the vodka down to leave behind. ]
[He keeps the little jumpy to himself and instead casts Eddie a look that says are you ready to see a lightweight in action. He’s seen Steve drunk, after all.
He’s sure this is cosmically bizarre, the way the three of them head out together. He’s not going to question it. Eddie can keep making him laugh; maybe for once he can air guitar without some prep thinking he’s joking around. Maybe he can get Steve to be less cagey, too. A lot of maybe’s that he tally’s up on the way, in-between whatever conversation he’s dragged into.
Mostly he watches them. Weighs the way the are with each other against what he knows of them individually. ]
[ there's something they say about old habits dying hard.
one on one with steve, eddie doesn't care. he's always touching him. always in his personal space. giving zero shits about any stares they may attract, now that he's certain that those stares are just going to stay stares. but billy being along has him trying to behave himself.
he still walks closer to steve, but he's a little more mindful about not grabbing hold of him and shaking him for emphasis as he talks. he cracks jokes to billy and - almost gets stopped in his tracks as they pass by a gaming store en route to the bar, drumming his fingers against the glass and debating if he wants to be rude enough to barge in fifteen minutes before close... and deciding he has no where to put his purchases, he'll leave them in the bar, and pivoting on his heel to catch up. ]
[ It's weird. Never not gonna be, walking between Eddie and Billy, of all people, and he misses Robin something fierce for her ability to ramble aimlessly and keep conversations going past the point of their death. Steve keeps his hands to himself as they walk, stuffed in the pockets of his coat, laying out their options for where to go if they get tired of the bar with a heavy metal themes (only he may grow tired of it, he's starting to realise in grim self-awareness) when Eddie starts hanging back to look into a nerdy shop near closing time.
He takes a picture of the place's storefront with his phone (fucking wizardry right there) so that he can find it later once they're on the other side of drunk, then as he beckons to Eddie to hurry up he keeps his arm out and slides it around him to reel the guy into his side, a seamlessly natural move that says come back here, to me. When he belatedly notices what he's doing, aka resting his hand in the small of Eddie's back in front of Billy, he drops it to hide back in his own coat pocket. ]
[He's already lit up a cigarette - nicotine, this time - distracted by the lighter while Eddie strays behind. He looks up with a puff of smoke, sees Steve's hand draw back quick as a flash, and rolls his eyes. He fights the urge to speak, figures two to one on the verbal exchange will be less funny than just winding Steve's tightly wound strings. Except that means ten minutes of this painfully virgin-esque display in front of him.
Decisions, decisions.
He shifts between them, slings an arm over each of their shoulders, and grins through the cigarette in his mouth. He may also be a little lit. Excuses, etc. ] Jesus that art of conversation is lost on you two. Loosen up.
[ It's weird to think that they live in a world where Steve Harrington, Monster Slayer and Single Mom Extraordinaire - picked Eddie Munson over Billy Hargrove. He can guess the reason - well, Steve outright told him the reason. Billy was a creep who came on too strong, and Eddie knew when to cede control and back off.
He claps Billy on the back. ]
I don't know about what it was like in California, Hargrove - but we simple country folk learned to mind what conversations we have in public.
[ He's unphased. He does, however, reach for the cigarette with his other hand in a clear share motion. ]
[ Ungh. That's a heavy arm. He doesn't shrug it off but it feels like they might look weird walking down the street like that, and he just ... leans his head away a little, same as he did when Eddie got too close in the Upside-Down. ]
You guys are loosened up enough for the three of us.
[He is very magnanimous, slides the cigarette from his mouth and hands it to Eddie. He does, too, release Steve from the depths of Billy Hell. He's in a good mood. It's definitely the weed, and not being an evil third wheel. ]
Munson, I really don't think the superheroes give a shit.
[To Steve, he gives a very gentle elbow to the arm -] My guy, you're the one who wanted to shower.
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[He does look, like he has some morbid curiosity as to what it's like to be eaten rather than fucking impaled. He wonders which hurt worse, in the end. Idly, he reaches for the buttons of his own shirt, starts undoing them from the midway up all the way down, hauling the ends out of his jeans. ] He tell you how I went out?
[They're still a little purple, some others faded white. The further he spreads his shirt though, the clearer the damage: one just below his sternum, the others peppered across his hips and waist, clean through to the back. ] Tentacles. I got kebab'd.
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You could get a sick cover-up for those. Once they've healed up enough.
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[Painful. He might do it. Can't fuck up his body anymore than he already has. ]
Pass me a drink.
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[ he grabs the other glass and walks over, offering it out as he sits on the edge of the bed. ]
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[Listen!! That's weird!! He will drink to that! He is at least a little animated now, gesturing a little with the glass hand:] And don't get me started on the music. Have you heard that shit? The fucking sad boy music?
[disgust]
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[ but, also: ]
Pop music is universally trash. You just developed stockholm syndrome with the garbage that radiated on the airwaves back home. Here.
[ okay what can he put on that isn't going to completely wreck the move. oh. yes. this. ]
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It's a bark, the noise so rare that he has trouble controlling it. He flings an arm over his eyes, and wheezes: ] Are you fucking kidding me, Munson -
[And loses it all over again. ]
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dudes like billy hargrove don't laugh enough. it makes them mean as shit. and chilling out can't cure everything, but it can cure a lot. ]
Alestorm. Pretty great, right?
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Hey, dickheads! When I said I wanted to go out I didn't mean alone —
[ The sight of them lounging on the bed isn't a surprise but the extra nudity Billy sports is. Why is his shirt open? Steve's animated irritation blanches and he halts on the spot. He switches his attention from Billy to Eddie, uncertain. ]
Am I interrupting something?
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Do you hear this shit? The fucking pirate metal - [There are honest to god tears in his eyes. His whole face is lit up with laughter - real laughter, the kind his mom used to inspire, the kind he reserved for -]
M-Munson, please, you’re killin’ me here.
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[ but ]
Where exactly are you planning on taking us? [ aka can i douse myself in axe or do i need to go take an actual shower
the answer is always the second one but he hopes ]
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Wryly, as Steve's hands find his hips to brush his coat aside, he wonders if a Demogorgon will walk through the wall. ]
There's a bar with a dark throne in it, I thought you might like it. [ Apparently it's already a party here though. ] We can go another time.
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[you’re out by curfew, billy.
More importantly:] Am I interrupting date night? [He hopes he is. He might be beaming like a regular guy but by god, he really hopes he has fucked date night up here.]
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[ hmmmm he'll leave that one for steve to answer ]
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Do up your damn shirt and you can tag along, Hargrove. May as well since you've both pre-gamed together.
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[But sure, he does up some of his buttons. Enough to hide the worst of the damage, anyway. Not enough that a full tit is on view, but that’s for the ladies. It’s a public service.]
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blasting himself with scent-b-gones. ]
Play nice and we just might. [ ... actually these jokes work less well when he's not the only queer man in the room. eddie grabs a hair tie and steps out, snapping his snarled mess of hair up and off his shoulders. ]
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Did Eddie just imply they're going to invite Billy to stay? Steve isn't sure his gay-o-meter is full enough to divest the imagery that springs up. He snags the bottle of Skull Vodka and necks a mouthful, coughing as a result. The burn is a good distraction ... When he turns to see Eddie sweeping his hair up, Steve actively resists the urge to help with the stray strands and touch, back-pedalling to the door. ]
Let's go already, the night is young.
[ One last swig (and grimace) before he sets the vodka down to leave behind. ]
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He’s sure this is cosmically bizarre, the way the three of them head out together. He’s not going to question it. Eddie can keep making him laugh; maybe for once he can air guitar without some prep thinking he’s joking around. Maybe he can get Steve to be less cagey, too. A lot of maybe’s that he tally’s up on the way, in-between whatever conversation he’s dragged into.
Mostly he watches them. Weighs the way the are with each other against what he knows of them individually. ]
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one on one with steve, eddie doesn't care. he's always touching him. always in his personal space. giving zero shits about any stares they may attract, now that he's certain that those stares are just going to stay stares. but billy being along has him trying to behave himself.
he still walks closer to steve, but he's a little more mindful about not grabbing hold of him and shaking him for emphasis as he talks. he cracks jokes to billy and - almost gets stopped in his tracks as they pass by a gaming store en route to the bar, drumming his fingers against the glass and debating if he wants to be rude enough to barge in fifteen minutes before close... and deciding he has no where to put his purchases, he'll leave them in the bar, and pivoting on his heel to catch up. ]
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He takes a picture of the place's storefront with his phone (fucking wizardry right there) so that he can find it later once they're on the other side of drunk, then as he beckons to Eddie to hurry up he keeps his arm out and slides it around him to reel the guy into his side, a seamlessly natural move that says come back here, to me. When he belatedly notices what he's doing, aka resting his hand in the small of Eddie's back in front of Billy, he drops it to hide back in his own coat pocket. ]
It's not far to go, ten minutes maybe.
[ Ahem. ]
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Decisions, decisions.
He shifts between them, slings an arm over each of their shoulders, and grins through the cigarette in his mouth. He may also be a little lit. Excuses, etc. ] Jesus that art of conversation is lost on you two. Loosen up.
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He claps Billy on the back. ]
I don't know about what it was like in California, Hargrove - but we simple country folk learned to mind what conversations we have in public.
[ He's unphased. He does, however, reach for the cigarette with his other hand in a clear share motion. ]
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You guys are loosened up enough for the three of us.
[ There's the bar ahead! Thank God. ]
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Munson, I really don't think the superheroes give a shit.
[To Steve, he gives a very gentle elbow to the arm -] My guy, you're the one who wanted to shower.
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