[ 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.
Supervillains might. Besides, not all superheroes are heroic. Shit you'd know if you picked up a good book once in a while.
[ he takes a long drag of the cigarette, keeping his hand on billy's shoulder and giving it a little shake before he stuffs them in his pockets. he hands it back, flashing a grin at steve. ]
Yeah, well, I'll catch up. [ TO CLARIFY: ] Not on the comics.
[ Steve heads in first, barrelling through the doors to drop off his coat and make a b-line for the bar through the thronging evening crowd. One thing he's good for is being seen, a flashy smile coaxing over the server as he finds a nook at the bar.
Over a shoulder he eyeballs Eddie and Billy. ]
What do you guys want?
[ The "dark throne" sits to one side of the bar, currently empty. ]
[ and of course eddie's distracted by the throne the moment they walk in. his eyes are pulled from the pair beside him, locked on target. hand coming up to fiddle with his hair and sliding across his mouth to hide the enormous grin. ]
Tequila sounds good.
[ is said distractedly. anything more than cheap shit is usually out of his budget.
if it was just him and steve, he'd already have taken off to sit in the thing. but billy is still an unknown. buttering him up and being friendly with him isn't going to do shit-all if he's got his mind on trouble. ]
[ Rolling his eyes are the sight of Eddie already lost to the world of the living (oof) with the throne in sight, he nods to Billy and orders for them: a round of shots, a tequila, bourbon, and a double vodka coke. ]
Eddie, come do shots with us before you disappear into the walls of this place.
[ He knows that's literally possible. Wall experience if nothing else. Is the Upside-Down on the parallel side of this superhero world too? Yeah, Steve's too sober. ]
[In a lot of ways, being around other people offers the small comfort of being able to vanish, if he gets bored of this game specifically. It might as well be a game now, so far off track from his original intention that it's 360'd back to normal. He isn't friends with these two, they all know it. Still, there's tequila, there's bourbon, and maybe tomorrow they will never speak to him again -
That doesn't feel fine at all, but he can live with it. File this memory away as one of the better, more confusing ones. Something to look back on before he dies again, and wonder why it took him so long to get his shit together.
He picks up a shot glass with one hand, extends it out for Eddie to pluck, and with the other, he knocks it against Steve's and then throws it back. Probably he should have stuck to the weed, but no one here is looking at him the wrong way yet because Billy? Billy is too hung up on whatever funny pantomime Eddie and Steve are putting on in front of him. Idly, he wonders if they think he's fucking with them. That the minute they start packing on the PDA, Billy will pull a gotcha and rearrange one of their faces. Like, he might, but less for that and more for jealousy -
Or, fuck it, there's always someone else here. Some just pretty enough with eyes just dark enough. Fuck it, whatever - at least the music is good, at least the shot burns his throat, and at least Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson haven't told him to fuck off yet. ]
[ down the shot goes. eddie sticks out his tongue afterwords, shaking his head as he drops it back down onto the bartop. ]
Shit yeah. [ the atmosphere of this place already warming him up to it. the drinks don't suck. the music doesn't suck. the throws his head back and closes his eyes, taking a moment to absorb it. then he's waving down the bartender for another round - only after glancing at steve to affirm that yes, yes he can do that.
maybe should've ate more than a few slices of pizza but whatever, it's fine. oh wait look at that specialty menu. uh - okay, shots and whatever the fuck blood of satan is. yeah, yeah yeah yeah. ] Now this is my kind of bar.
[ Round one of shots done, he takes a gulp of his vodka-coke to make sure that shit mixes fast. Steve orders another round of shots and whatever the fuck the Blood of Satan is (he's hazarding a guess it's a bloody mary with that evil little trident for show instead of an umbrella), and this time he holds out his shot glass to Billy. Maybe Billy does have a lot in common with Eddie but he went to the same parties as Steve, he knows the routine. It's easier to find even ground with him outside, away from his safe-haven hotel room.
It's all a little unreal, he would agree.
... The music is terrible, but he keeps that to himself. At least the volume is down as the night heats up. ]
Second shots up!
[ It is entirely his plan to get fucked up, sticking his own tongue out at the taste of whatever he just swallowed. ]
Eddie, you got your second drink already; Billy, what weird shit do you want off that monstrosity of a menu?
[The adrenline of it will catch up soon; wash away the weird feelings of being out of place just enough to get rightly fucked up. He takes his own, knocks it against Steve's and if his pinky is there, in the way to touch skin, he only notices enough to neck the thing faster.
He's licking his lips when he glances at the menu, scans over the name, looks for something hard and less flavour, and jams his thumb against devil's island. He does wish the music was a little louder; a little faster to move his head to, but it's still pretty great.
He swings an arm around Eddie's shoulder, leans in close enough to be casually friendly, and holds his empty shot glass against his chest, like he's a proud mom. ] Can you believe Steve Harrington is buying us drinks, Munson? I must be dreaming.
[ it's lucky eddie isn't the jealous kind. but he is the... worrying kind. the distrustful of jocks kind. ]
I told you, surprisingly good guy.
[ the devil's blood is kind of a nightmare cocktail. forgoing the glass and instead being offered in a skull-shaped flagon. this is fucking heaven. billy throws an arm around him and eddie has no trouble slinging one around him in turn and shoving him lightly to the chair. ]
Shots have been had, lads! Now we're going to take some sick pictures on that metal as fuck throne before we're too fucked to remember.
[ Steve downs his first drink and orders a second double vodka-coke, taking a huge gulp as he follows the others to the overly decorated chair. The world's starting to blur a little but he still has his sense of purpose and nods along when photos are mentioned. ]
I don't know, man - one and a half us are built like a brick house, might break it.
[Look, he is being very cordial here. He makes a waving motion like you two do whatever the fuck you want, and then there's the whole thing of using the phone which is so fucking weird, still. But you click the camera icon, it's easy enough.
There is a cooler breeze at his side when he pulls himself away from Eddie to do his best Jonathon Byers impression. Which is, mostly, not knowing whether to look at the screen or them, but, you know. ]
[ hmmm. good point. eddie is scrawny and not a jock and most of the people he hangs out with are equally twiggy, there are consequences to hanging out with people who give a shit about their physique.
he rubs his chin, then nods. ]
More like your throne, King Steve. I'm the court musician. Noooo interest in leading.
[ Blinking wider as the throne rears into view, with one drink and two shots inside him he starts caring far less about anything and easily succumbs to the power of Eddie's lightest persuasion, taking hold of him by the wrist. He sits in the chair and tugs Eddie down to sit on top of him, reaching up to grab Billy's sleeve and haul him into shot, "Why are you all the way up there? Jesus." ]
Eddie, take the picture before you crush my legs with your bony ass. Goddamn, dude, you're heavy.
[It does take him by surprise; he's drunk enough to stumble over his feet, hauled down with an arm grabbing the back of the throne in a white knuckle grip, lest he end up with his face either in Eddie's armpit or his junk. The other hand lands on Eddie's chest, fingers splayed as he chokes out a laugh, nose far too close to Steve's jaw for anyone's comfort.
He barely notices, which is funny. It's a wayward kind of heap, he forgets, for a moment, what this is, and turns his head, half grinning and half ready to roll the throne over with his weight. ]
I think I got iron in the junk, [or close, when the photo snaps he'll still be grinning, still have his hand on Eddie and his face too close to Steve, and probably he won't notice until he's seen the actual photo. They get three max before he pulls himself away and motions to the bar. Does a little shot mime, and very meanly asks for the strongest one.]
Don't act like you don't love everything about my ass.
[ he's a little too far gone to watch his tone. wiggling his bone fucking ass on steve's lap for emphasis - and then laughing as billy joins the pile. his touch is surprisingly warm - as is his laugh. which eddie's learning he rather likes the sound of. its like a rare song that only comes on the radio once in a blue moon, sung by a known artist under a secret alias to secretly share their true thoughts on the world.
but that's too deep. he's so high.
selfies are a weird concept. eddie takes to them as he has most things in this modern world - with a ferocity and intensity to master it. he sticks his tongue out for the first one and manages to look somewhat normal for the next two, even if the grin is wild and manic as ever.
he lingers on steve's lap a few moments longer than strictly necessary, then he's hopping off and to his feet like a spring, turning around to extend a hand to help Steve up. ]
[ There's a lot of breath on his face and he squints in the midst of two noses too close to his own, a laugh bubbling up when Eddie sticks his tongue out. At least one of the photos has Steve smiling and not pulling an aloof expression that looks way drunker than he thinks it does. He follows the warmth of Eddie up and slides his hand into the one waiting, looking away as he does. At the crowd that doesn't give a shit somehow. Back at Hargrove.
Steve offers him a hand too, because there's logic in sticking together en route to the bar; the whole place is rapidly filling up and he doesn't want any of them to get lost. ]
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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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[ he takes a long drag of the cigarette, keeping his hand on billy's shoulder and giving it a little shake before he stuffs them in his pockets. he hands it back, flashing a grin at steve. ]
That goes for you too.
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[ Steve heads in first, barrelling through the doors to drop off his coat and make a b-line for the bar through the thronging evening crowd. One thing he's good for is being seen, a flashy smile coaxing over the server as he finds a nook at the bar.
Over a shoulder he eyeballs Eddie and Billy. ]
What do you guys want?
[ The "dark throne" sits to one side of the bar, currently empty. ]
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[This is not a dare, except that maybe it is, and he looks to Steve next, expression absolutely angelic. ] What does the King of Hawkins High say?
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Tequila sounds good.
[ is said distractedly. anything more than cheap shit is usually out of his budget.
if it was just him and steve, he'd already have taken off to sit in the thing. but billy is still an unknown. buttering him up and being friendly with him isn't going to do shit-all if he's got his mind on trouble. ]
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Eddie, come do shots with us before you disappear into the walls of this place.
[ He knows that's literally possible. Wall experience if nothing else. Is the Upside-Down on the parallel side of this superhero world too? Yeah, Steve's too sober. ]
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That doesn't feel fine at all, but he can live with it. File this memory away as one of the better, more confusing ones. Something to look back on before he dies again, and wonder why it took him so long to get his shit together.
He picks up a shot glass with one hand, extends it out for Eddie to pluck, and with the other, he knocks it against Steve's and then throws it back. Probably he should have stuck to the weed, but no one here is looking at him the wrong way yet because Billy? Billy is too hung up on whatever funny pantomime Eddie and Steve are putting on in front of him. Idly, he wonders if they think he's fucking with them. That the minute they start packing on the PDA, Billy will pull a gotcha and rearrange one of their faces. Like, he might, but less for that and more for jealousy -
Or, fuck it, there's always someone else here. Some just pretty enough with eyes just dark enough. Fuck it, whatever - at least the music is good, at least the shot burns his throat, and at least Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson haven't told him to fuck off yet. ]
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Shit yeah. [ the atmosphere of this place already warming him up to it. the drinks don't suck. the music doesn't suck. the throws his head back and closes his eyes, taking a moment to absorb it. then he's waving down the bartender for another round - only after glancing at steve to affirm that yes, yes he can do that.
maybe should've ate more than a few slices of pizza but whatever, it's fine. oh wait look at that specialty menu. uh - okay, shots and whatever the fuck blood of satan is. yeah, yeah yeah yeah. ] Now this is my kind of bar.
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It's all a little unreal, he would agree.
... The music is terrible, but he keeps that to himself. At least the volume is down as the night heats up. ]
Second shots up!
[ It is entirely his plan to get fucked up, sticking his own tongue out at the taste of whatever he just swallowed. ]
Eddie, you got your second drink already; Billy, what weird shit do you want off that monstrosity of a menu?
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He's licking his lips when he glances at the menu, scans over the name, looks for something hard and less flavour, and jams his thumb against devil's island. He does wish the music was a little louder; a little faster to move his head to, but it's still pretty great.
He swings an arm around Eddie's shoulder, leans in close enough to be casually friendly, and holds his empty shot glass against his chest, like he's a proud mom. ] Can you believe Steve Harrington is buying us drinks, Munson? I must be dreaming.
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I told you, surprisingly good guy.
[ the devil's blood is kind of a nightmare cocktail. forgoing the glass and instead being offered in a skull-shaped flagon. this is fucking heaven. billy throws an arm around him and eddie has no trouble slinging one around him in turn and shoving him lightly to the chair. ]
Shots have been had, lads! Now we're going to take some sick pictures on that metal as fuck throne before we're too fucked to remember.
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Group photo on Eddie's throne?
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[Look, he is being very cordial here. He makes a waving motion like you two do whatever the fuck you want, and then there's the whole thing of using the phone which is so fucking weird, still. But you click the camera icon, it's easy enough.
There is a cooler breeze at his side when he pulls himself away from Eddie to do his best Jonathon Byers impression. Which is, mostly, not knowing whether to look at the screen or them, but, you know. ]
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he rubs his chin, then nods. ]
More like your throne, King Steve. I'm the court musician. Noooo interest in leading.
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[ Blinking wider as the throne rears into view, with one drink and two shots inside him he starts caring far less about anything and easily succumbs to the power of Eddie's lightest persuasion, taking hold of him by the wrist. He sits in the chair and tugs Eddie down to sit on top of him, reaching up to grab Billy's sleeve and haul him into shot, "Why are you all the way up there? Jesus." ]
Eddie, take the picture before you crush my legs with your bony ass. Goddamn, dude, you're heavy.
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He barely notices, which is funny. It's a wayward kind of heap, he forgets, for a moment, what this is, and turns his head, half grinning and half ready to roll the throne over with his weight. ]
I think I got iron in the junk, [or close, when the photo snaps he'll still be grinning, still have his hand on Eddie and his face too close to Steve, and probably he won't notice until he's seen the actual photo. They get three max before he pulls himself away and motions to the bar. Does a little shot mime, and very meanly asks for the strongest one.]
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[ he's a little too far gone to watch his tone. wiggling his bone fucking ass on steve's lap for emphasis - and then laughing as billy joins the pile. his touch is surprisingly warm - as is his laugh. which eddie's learning he rather likes the sound of. its like a rare song that only comes on the radio once in a blue moon, sung by a known artist under a secret alias to secretly share their true thoughts on the world.
but that's too deep. he's so high.
selfies are a weird concept. eddie takes to them as he has most things in this modern world - with a ferocity and intensity to master it. he sticks his tongue out for the first one and manages to look somewhat normal for the next two, even if the grin is wild and manic as ever.
he lingers on steve's lap a few moments longer than strictly necessary, then he's hopping off and to his feet like a spring, turning around to extend a hand to help Steve up. ]
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Steve offers him a hand too, because there's logic in sticking together en route to the bar; the whole place is rapidly filling up and he doesn't want any of them to get lost. ]
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