You're the One That I Want 🎃👻🎃
It’s a quarter to nine when Steve walks up the stairs to the new Munson trailer, taking a slow breath in before banging on the door with the side of his fist.
It’s the Friday before Halloween, and he is in a terrible mood.
He had spent damn near a month planning the perfect Halloween costume with Robin for a stupid party he didn’t even want to go to only for her to get violently ill at the last second. Steve had told her that the shrimp she had ordered at the bar the night before looked gross, but she had ignored him and gorged herself on it anyway. Now she was paying the ultimate price.
“You have to go tell Eddie,” she said through the phone in between moments of heavy gagging. “I tried calling the trailer, but he won’t pick up, and if I don’t get back to the bathroom I’m going to paint my mom’s rug a color humans have never seen before.”
“Alright, Jesus,” Steve winced as he pulled the phone away from his ear. “No need to be so graphic. You set up camp in the bathroom and I’ll let Munson know our plans are canceled.”
“You’re a saint,” Robin groans into the phone. “You aren’t dressed already, are you?”
“Uh, no,” Steve looks down at the costume he had just finished putting on. “You caught me just in time, I was just about to change.”
“Oh, good,” Robin sighs with relief into the phone before making a pained noise. “I would have felt like such an ass if you were already ready to go. Alright, I should head back to the bathroom. Food poisoning waits for no man.”
“Bye Birdie,” Steve chuckles. “I’ll bring you some soup and crackers tomorrow.”
“A Saint,” Robin reiterates before hanging up.
So there he was, shivering as he waited for the trailer door to open.
He lights up a cigarette in a desperate attempt to suck some warmth into his lungs, his breath fogging out all around him as he exhales. It hasn’t snowed yet, but it was only a matter of time now, and the top Steve is wearing wasn’t exactly built for extreme temperatures.
He didn’t have to wait long before the tell tale sign of heavy footsteps came up to the door, yanking it open to reveal a rumpled, half awake Eddie Munson.
“What? Whadda want?” he grunts, rubbing sleep out of his eyes before finally looking down the steps. He stares for a long moment, blinking several times before squinting at him.
“I’m sorry, is that Steve Harrington in pleather pants on my doorstep?” Eddie asks, mostly to himself. “Or am I still dreaming?”
“Oh, fuck off, it’s my Halloween costume.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest self consciously. “Robin and I were supposed to match but she’s a fiend for half-priced cocktail shrimp and gave herself food poisoning."
“Halloween costume?” Eddie stares at him with a sleep drunk stare, his gaze traveling slowly down him before snapping up again. “Who- uh- who are you supposed to be?”
“The easter bunny,” Steve says flatly before dropping the cigarette onto the porch and grinding it out with his heel. “Look, will you just move so I can get changed? I’m freezing my dick and balls off out here.”
Steve takes a step forward but is stopped by Eddie's finger tips pressing into his chest. Eddie leans back to get a full look at him before his eyes widen with recognition.
“Are you Sandy?” Eddie says, his voice full of absolute glee. “Sexy Sandy from the end of Grease?”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Steve huffs. “Now move, there’s no point in going to the party like this if Robin isn’t coming. Without her dressed as Danny Zuko I just look like a-”
“-a lady of the night?” Eddie raises both eyebrows. “A temptress in four inch heels? Speaking of which, where did you even find a pair that fit you?”
Steve shoulders past him when it becomes clear Eddie isn’t going to move out of the way on his own.
“It wasn’t that hard. It's not like I’m Bigfoot or anything,” Steve says crossly as he yanks off the offending heels. “Some women happen to have bigger feet.”
“I guess,” Eddie says, his eyes flickering down again before damn near boggling out of his skull. “Did you paint your nails?”
Steve does not dignify that with an answer, hastily sitting on the couch so he can tuck his bare feet under his legs.
“I’d say I feel bad for canceling party plans but it looks like you completely forgot anyway,” Steve changes the subject. “Do you even have a costume?”
Eddie stares at him for a long moment before scrambling back to his room without another word. Steve sits on the couch, stunned by Eddie’s abruptness as he listens to him rifle around in his room. Eddie comes out again a minute later, out of breath as he leans against the wall and strikes a pose. Steve takes in his outfit and bursts out laughing.
“I do now,” Eddie says proudly as he gives Steve a spin.
Eddie stands before him in a white t-shirt and his leather jacket, his long locks pulled back and his bangs delicately coiffed to perfection.
“I know I’m no Buckley, but I’d hate to see such an amazing costume go to waste,” Eddie waggles his eyebrows as Steve continues to laugh. “What do you think? Do I make a good Danny Zuko?”
He leans in closer but the flirty look falls off his face as his eyes catch on something.
“Are you, uh-” he clears his throat when his voice cracks, his face turning pink as his eyes flicker over Steve’s face. “-are you wearing lipstick?”
“There’s supposed to be a costume contest,” Steve says defensively. “So the costume needed to be perfect. I’m not going to wear heels all night and not win.”
“Ah, there’s my competitive jock under all that mascara,” Eddie says. “I thought I lost you inside a brunette bombshell for a minute there.”
“Excuse me,” Steve huffs defensively. “I’m always a bombshell, thank you very much. It’s not my fault it took a little eye makeup for you to figure that out.”
“I’m sorry, baby. What was that? I got distracted by how cute your lipstick looks when you pout.”
Steve forces himself up off the couch, ignoring how his face heats when Eddie’s gaze lingers on his legs.
“I’m going to this party,” Steve points at Eddie with one hand while using the other to slip on his heels. “Like Hell am I going to let Tommy Hagan of all people win that contest. The guy buys a fake Wookiee costume out of some cheap halloween store and suddenly everyone treats him like the pope.”
Steve scoffs and turns around expecting Eddie to have a one liner already lined up, but instead he’s greeted with Eddie scrunching his face up like he had smelled something rancid.
“Tommy Hagan is going to be there?”
“Yeah?” Steve raises an eyebrow. “He’s back home from college for fall break. Why?”
Eddie groans out loud, dragging his hands across his face with an exaggerated scowl.
“What?” Steve laughs, giving Eddie a curious look. “I know you two didn’t exactly get along in high school but it’s not like you’ll have to talk to the guy. I’m sure he’ll be too neck deep in a punch bowl to even notice you’re there.”
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Eddie grumbles as he flops down on the couch.
“Well, what is it then?” Steve stands above him with his hands on his hips, his eyebrow cocked.
“I would rather eat a lead plate than watch that weird little fruit cake drool over you all night,” Eddie huffs. “He’s going to have a coronary when he sees you dressed up like this. The thought alone makes me want to barf.”
Steve lets out a bark of surprised laughter as Eddie crosses his arms across his chest with a stormy expression.
“First of all,” Steve starts. “It was never like that between Tommy and I-”
“Much to his dismay,” Eddie scoffs under his breath.
“-Secondly,” Steve powers on, ignoring him. “If we aren’t going to go to the party, what are we going to do? I didn’t cram myself into this top to not do something tonight.”
“Let’s go to the drive-in and you can have this- ” Eddie points to himself. “-weird little fruit cake drool over you instead. I’ll buy the tickets and everything. It’ll be a date.”
It’s clear Eddie didn’t mean to blurt out the last part because he falters after, wide eyed and flushed as he stares up at Steve. The resounding silence is almost deafening as Steve processes what he just said.
“Edward Munson,” Steve says flatly. “Did it take my ass in a pair of pleather leggings for you to finally nut up and ask me out?”
“Well-” Eddie flounders uselessly, fiddling with his hands before giving Steve a shy look. “I mean, they certainly helped.”
“Unbelievable,” Steve rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath. “I hit on you for months and the thing that breaks you cost me five bucks at the thrift store.”
“Months?” Eddie sits up, looking alarmed. “I think I would have noticed you hitting on me for months, Sweetheart.”
“Oh, Eddie, you’re so strong. Thank you so much for helping me move the Byers back in. Oh, Eddie, you're so thoughtful. Thank you for picking the kids up for me, I really owe you one. Oh, Eddie-” Steve says in a high pitched mocking voice, kicking up one of his legs behind him in a swooning pose. “I mean, what the hell, man? Those are classic come-ons.”
“Or they’re classic ‘Thanks for being such a great friend ’-ons,” Eddie refutes. “That is shit any dude could say to another dude and have it be completely platonic.”
“What about when I complimented your arms?” Steve crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow. “I told you you looked strong enough to pick someone up and hold them there. Does that sound platonic to you?”
“You’re a jock,” Eddie defends weakly. “I thought you were just appreciating the form, not the person.”
“Oh my god, unbelievable,” Steve mumbles under his breath before he bends over and gets in Eddie’s face.
“I like you,” he says bluntly, putting both hands on his hips while maintaining strong eye contact. “I want to date you. This is not a platonic come-on, this is the opposite of that. Now if you’re not opposed, I’d like to make things official so you can come on me later.”
“Did you just ask me out with a sex pun?” Eddie sinks deeper into the couch, his face bright red as he giggles at Steve’s expression.
“It wasn’t a pun,” Steve raises an eyebrow. “It’s the plan. I’d appreciate it if you told me if you were up for it or not because this thong is incredibly uncomfortable and if we aren’t doing anything tonight I’m going to humbly request I borrow some of your sweatpants so I can get changed instead.”
“You’re wearing a thong?” Eddie asks, his face going blank and his eyes glazing over.
“Uh, yeah?” Steve frowns. “How the hell else was I supposed to fit into these pants without a panty line showing?”
Eddie covers his face with his hands for a second before lurching forward and throwing Steve over his shoulder.
“Ed-die !” Steve's voice cracks as Eddie stands up and walks them both toward the front door. “I swear to god, Munson, if you hit my head on the door frame-”
“I’m taking you to the movies,” Eddie interrupts, throwing the front door open. “We’re going to have a very romantic first date and then, if it’s alright with you, we’re coming back here so I can take that thong off with my teeth. How does that plan sound to you?”
“Sounds good to me,” Steve grins from where he’s hanging upside down. “Stud.”
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