“His name is D'Artagnan? Like Three Musketeers D’Artagnan? With the fucking” Eddie stabs a finger in the air, slashing it madly in a poor imitation of an; “apostrophe!?”
“Oh, so you do know what those are called.” Nancy says, arms crossed over her chest as she supervises, and Eddie groans because he knows exactly what she’s referencing. “Which means when we got grouped up together in Bronan’s class you were just screwing around.”
Unspoken was the fact that he was screwing around with her grade, a fatal error.
He hides his mad scramble to save his life by taking a moment to pass more bubble bath to Steve, making sure to keep the former king between himself and the creature they’ve crammed in his bathtub.
“Have you ever considered that I happened to learn what they’re called from you?” He tries, putting on a sincere voice as he can manage. “You’re a very, “ Strict, militant, downright terrifying, “-good teacher.”
“Is that so?” And Eddie does not like that icy tone of voice, particularly given he is now aware it’s the one she uses when she’s shooting at people.
“Sorry Eds, I mighta used that one on Nance too many times.” Steve looks over his shoulder in a way that somehow makes his back broader and Eddie understands why Harrington isn’t wearing a shirt right now, really, he does--but why does he have to bear witness to it!? Nancy is right there, Steve did NOT need another set of hands for bath time!
(This is torture. Eddie is being tortured, and he can’t even say anything about it because Eddie is a fugitive hiding out in Steve’s home.
Life fucking sucks.)
“Didn’t I?” Steve gives them both a boyish sort of grin, hands scrubbing until he finds a spot that backs one of Dart’s back feet thump and splash water.
They all yell, hands and arms flying in a useless attempt to stay dry.
(Harrington’s master bath is big, but it’s not that big.)
“My point,” Eddie says, before Nancy decides this is a good opportunity to drown them both, “is that calling him Dart when he was given a badass name is just plain offensive. He’s a monster, he’s supposed to be scary.”
“It’s too difficult to yell in battle.” Nancy retorts, right as Steve coos;
“Aww, but he likes Dart, doesn’t he? Yes he does!”
“Doessss.” Dart’s petals rattle back, in that same sort of gravel-bird tone.
His words have been getting better.
(It’s terrifying.)
Steve reaches up to scratch the underside of one giant fleshy petal. Dart makes a chirping sort of noise and leans into Steve, who in turn, ends up leaning into Eddie.
“Here, pet him.” Steve suddenly commands, as if Eddie isn’t fighting for his life by suddenly finding the younger man practically in his lap.
“What!?” He says, more as a buffer than a real response.
(Harrington is wet. Wet and firm and sitting on him and oh God, no, abort mission, get out, get out-!)
“Pet him!” Steve laughs. “Let him get to know you so he knows your scent and shit.”
“Like this is Black Beauty?” Eddie demands except Steve has fucking--contorted himself, somehow, twisted around to snag Eddie’s wrist, two hard tugs pulling him right up against his back, arm forced past Steve’s side so his hand can touch monsterflesh.
Nose now forcefully half-crammed in the crook of Steve’s neck and hair, Eddie gets a strong whiff of what smells a hell of a lot like women’s hair spray and a sort of delicious cinnamon undertone and turns neon fucking red.
Dart shifts under his hand, and Steve decides to help him pet the damn thing, like Eddie is a small child, and really he should be taking offense to this, but his brain is melting out his ears.
He should not be this close.
To Steve or the fucking “demogorgan” (quotation marks very much implied because whatever the fuck Dart is, it is NOT a proper demogorgan and he WILL die on that hill, thank you!)
“There see?” Steve says happily as Dart starts to make the chirping noise again, head turning ever so slightly so that his hair brushes Eddie's nose. “he likes you!”
“Sure big boy.” Which isn't what he intended to say, but at least it isn't the first thing he thought of, an instantaneous 'I like you' he managed to choke down.
Then Dart is thumping and splashing again and Eddie can --thank GOD--yank himself the hell away from Harrington, fighting to control the blush.
(He fails--and Nancy notices when he does.
He’ll deal with that later.)
