[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. ]
[He is not subtle about the way he looks down at Steve's hand after he turns, like he's trying desperately to solve a puzzle in his head. He's too high for it; he reaches out, grabs some of Steve's fingers with his pinky and propels them forward.
The shots are there, there are more bodies crowding around them and it would easy to get lost. Was this plan a? He think so. He doesn't want to vanish yet, so he takes a glass one by one, passes them down their weird little train and raises in a mid toast before he swallows it.
Obviously it tastes sweet and like lighter fluid all at once. Billy could drink that all night, honestly. ] Shit that burns.
[The music is getting louder, he realises. More people must be the cue. Now he has something to move to. ]
[ eddie's not usually a bar guy. not outside of shows, at least, and he's already eyeing the stage in this joint and wondering if it's possible to make something of himself here. maybe. down the line.
but really he's just taking in the view. the company. he wheels and deals but rarely gets to enjoy the night, and this is... surprisingly nice. letting his body sway to the beat as he throws down this latest shot, whooping loudly at the burn as he smacks it down against the table and throwing his head back. ]
Auuuuuuuugh, that tasted so bad! Isn't there anything sweeter? Can we get cherries?
[ Stuffy Steve is slipping away as he rinses out his shot-soaked mouth with vodka and coke, a clearly bright idea. He puts his back to the bar with Billy and Eddie to lean back on, slotted between them comfortably — ]
I see a table!
[ Nope, he's off like a whippet, diving through the crowd with a shoulder aimed toward one of the little shelves that encircles a pillar of the building. ]
[He says this close to Eddie's ear, watching Steve weave and make a beeline for the little cranny he's set his sights on. He leaves Billy sort of breathless just watching him. He's never seen this Steve, he realises: happy and having fun, enjoying a night and not on his guard. He likes it. He could get used to it.
He glances at Eddie, over the contours of his cheekbones where they're sort of flushed and yeah, okay fine, he could get used to Eddie too. Something about him softens Billy's hackles, makes him want to sprawl out and talk about music, how much they both hate small towns. This is how he knows he's fucked, actually. The crawl of sentimentality.
He nods to Steve's waiting form, doesn't really think about it while he grabs Eddie around the wrist to haul him through the hoard of metalheads piling up. ]
[ he represses the shudder as billy's words tickle his ear. the flush deepens, though he doesn't move to follow steve just yet. his eyes are glued to his ass as he smashes through the crowd for their prize. ]
A year ago I woulda told you it was steroids, but now... Now I think he's actually the goddamn energizer bunny.
[ and then billy's hauling him through the crowd and eddie's going along, letting the bigger body carve their way through the crowd. once at the table he throws himself into the chair beside steve, offering his drink for him to taste. ]
[ Steve literally holds onto their "table" until the others catch up, relaxing once they do; there isn't anywhere besides a couple of rickety chairs to sit on but it's a damn good leaning space he's assumed for himself and he's proud. His second drink is mostly gone by the time they arrive so he accepts Eddie's to take a swig from. ]
Guys! Guys, how do you dance in here? Are we allowed to dance? [ Why is he stage-whispering behind a hand? ] I don't know metal rules.
[ He's up and he's willing but he has no idea what's happening! This is exciting! Steve looks all around for the dancefloor and his eyes widen as he sees people ... uh, ]
[Eddie gets a point right back and - is there a stool? Yes there is, just a second of grabbing, hauling a leg up before he shows exactly how California does it. It's all in the hair, all in the fingers over the imaginary strings. To some degree it is also all in the ass, the jean stretch over it is so important etc.
He gets lost in it a little, shifts from air guitar to drums, feels sweat pooling at his temples, feels his lips drying up with the movement. When he slicks his hair back, it's to see if Steve gets the hang of it, too see if his body can learn the thrashing.
He sits on the stool to catch his breath, somehow finds a way to sprawl there too, back against the column and his thighs parted wide. ] Come on Harrington, you gotta get your head in it.
[ but eddie will show him the ropes. how to feel the body with your music, how to let all your aggression out and feel the pure passion. it's easier to show than explain and he lets himself get lost in the beat, his dancing as frantic and wildly energetic as the rest of them ]
His gaze moves lazily between Eddie going feral in the crowd and Steve, and then Steve sort of swaying and his grin drops embarrassingly fast because for a second it looks like Steve might do a little Lightweight Lie Down -]
Harrington, you good? [He's sitting up, brows furrowing, elbows on his thigh. ]
[ he's not drunk enough to miss that. but is drunk enough to nearly get his head taken off by an errant fist. eddie ducks and moves back closer to the table, reaching out to steady him. ]
[ Eyes wide as he isn't even a fraction as subtle as he thought (damn you, vodka and nondescript shots!) he nods to Billy and Eddie as they converge on him, grasping the front of Eddie's shirt for balance with one hand. ]
Yeah, yeah. Yeahyeahyeah. I'm good! Totally!
[ He needs to go have a bisexual crisis alone for a second. ]
... I need those cherries. Wait here!
[ Skidding on the spot as he tears off like the slippery bastard he can be, heading for the bar. ]
[Obviously he's watching Steve go, brows still furrowed as he watches the top of his stupid hair swim through the crowds thrashing. He turns to Eddie after, leaning back again, lifting one brow like Eddie Speaks Steve. ]
My guy, did he do a line before we left? Did you see him move?
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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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The shots are there, there are more bodies crowding around them and it would easy to get lost. Was this plan a? He think so. He doesn't want to vanish yet, so he takes a glass one by one, passes them down their weird little train and raises in a mid toast before he swallows it.
Obviously it tastes sweet and like lighter fluid all at once. Billy could drink that all night, honestly. ] Shit that burns.
[The music is getting louder, he realises. More people must be the cue. Now he has something to move to. ]
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but really he's just taking in the view. the company. he wheels and deals but rarely gets to enjoy the night, and this is... surprisingly nice. letting his body sway to the beat as he throws down this latest shot, whooping loudly at the burn as he smacks it down against the table and throwing his head back. ]
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[ Stuffy Steve is slipping away as he rinses out his shot-soaked mouth with vodka and coke, a clearly bright idea. He puts his back to the bar with Billy and Eddie to lean back on, slotted between them comfortably — ]
I see a table!
[ Nope, he's off like a whippet, diving through the crowd with a shoulder aimed toward one of the little shelves that encircles a pillar of the building. ]
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[He says this close to Eddie's ear, watching Steve weave and make a beeline for the little cranny he's set his sights on. He leaves Billy sort of breathless just watching him. He's never seen this Steve, he realises: happy and having fun, enjoying a night and not on his guard. He likes it. He could get used to it.
He glances at Eddie, over the contours of his cheekbones where they're sort of flushed and yeah, okay fine, he could get used to Eddie too. Something about him softens Billy's hackles, makes him want to sprawl out and talk about music, how much they both hate small towns. This is how he knows he's fucked, actually. The crawl of sentimentality.
He nods to Steve's waiting form, doesn't really think about it while he grabs Eddie around the wrist to haul him through the hoard of metalheads piling up. ]
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A year ago I woulda told you it was steroids, but now... Now I think he's actually the goddamn energizer bunny.
[ and then billy's hauling him through the crowd and eddie's going along, letting the bigger body carve their way through the crowd. once at the table he throws himself into the chair beside steve, offering his drink for him to taste. ]
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Guys! Guys, how do you dance in here? Are we allowed to dance? [ Why is he stage-whispering behind a hand? ] I don't know metal rules.
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[Mostly because it's Free Entertainment. Absolutely funnier than watching Tommy H 'break dance' on Becky Clayton's porch. ]
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Oh, baby, you're gonna learn tonight! [ he spins around, pointing towards billy. ] You too! After! Gotta show us how California does it!
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[ He's up and he's willing but he has no idea what's happening! This is exciting! Steve looks all around for the dancefloor and his eyes widen as he sees people ... uh, ]
Is that dancing? That looks so dangerous.
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He gets lost in it a little, shifts from air guitar to drums, feels sweat pooling at his temples, feels his lips drying up with the movement. When he slicks his hair back, it's to see if Steve gets the hang of it, too see if his body can learn the thrashing.
He sits on the stool to catch his breath, somehow finds a way to sprawl there too, back against the column and his thighs parted wide. ] Come on Harrington, you gotta get your head in it.
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It's both.
[ but eddie will show him the ropes. how to feel the body with your music, how to let all your aggression out and feel the pure passion. it's easier to show than explain and he lets himself get lost in the beat, his dancing as frantic and wildly energetic as the rest of them ]
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But he likes what he sees in both directions. ]
... Uh oh.
[ Steve sways on the spot, resting a hand on the pillar. ]
Oh, nooo.
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Same Steve.His gaze moves lazily between Eddie going feral in the crowd and Steve, and then Steve sort of swaying and his grin drops embarrassingly fast because for a second it looks like Steve might do a little Lightweight Lie Down -]
Harrington, you good? [He's sitting up, brows furrowing, elbows on his thigh. ]
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Hey, hey, you need to hurl, babe?
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Yeah, yeah. Yeahyeahyeah. I'm good! Totally!
[ He needs to go have a bisexual crisis alone for a second. ]
... I need those cherries. Wait here!
[ Skidding on the spot as he tears off like the slippery bastard he can be, heading for the bar. ]
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[Obviously he's watching Steve go, brows still furrowed as he watches the top of his stupid hair swim through the crowds thrashing. He turns to Eddie after, leaning back again, lifting one brow like Eddie Speaks Steve. ]
My guy, did he do a line before we left? Did you see him move?
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