WC: 2.8k Rating: G Tags: Modern Setting, Actors, Sexual Tension @steddiebingo prompt: Free Space Full tags on AO3 / Previous part
The studio smelled like fresh paint, coffee, and the faint tang of hairspray. A mix that hit Eddie in the face the second he stepped past the security desk.
He wasn’t sure what he expected Steve Harrington to look like in person. Maybe taller. Maybe cockier. Maybe more… glossy. The reality was a man in a wrinkled grey hoodie, sunglasses pushed up into his hair without a care for the way it made the thick chestnut waves stick up in odd directions, eyes following crew members around the set as though he would be asked to jump in and help on a job at any second.
Eddie had never been one for thinking before he acted. So, despite his nerves, he practically danced over, throwing himself down in the folding chair next to Steve, one leg crossed over the other and chin propped on his hand.
“Hey there, lover boy.” He crooned, smooth as butter.
Steve jumped, turning wide, startled eyes on him.
“Munson?”
“That’s me,” Eddie grinned, holding his hand out.
Steve’s eyes darted between Eddie’s hand, his eyes and his mouth, back and forth before taking it, covering Eddie’s hand with his own large warm one.
“Steve.” He shook, slowly, gently, almost like a caress. “Harrington.” He added on, as an afterthought.
“So, Stevie.” Eddie blinked up at him, batting his eyelashes, chin resting on top of both hands and leaning in close. “Ready to fall in love with me?”
He expected Steve to rear back a little or roll his eyes, scoff or even scrunch his nose up in disgust.
What he didn’t expect was Steve Harrington to pull his sunglasses off, allowing his hair to fall over his eyes, give Eddie a slow and appraising once over while rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip.
Eyes met again and Eddie’s breath was stolen from him.
“Are you?” Steve asked right back.
“Well, good to know you two have some off camera chemistry.” A third voice chimed in.
Eddie flinched back, surprised.
Steve seemed to take his time looking over, eyes still lingering as he slowly unfolded his body, arms leaning back on the armrests, legs spread out in a display of masculinity that had Eddie taking a slow, deep breath in.
Robin Buckley stood in front of them, her grin sharp, hands on her hips, eyes blazing and hair messy.
“That’s exactly the energy I’m looking for on camera.”
Steve finally tore his eyes away to look up at Robin and Eddie felt like he could breathe again.
“I think we can manage that.” Steve said, boyhood charm smirk in place.
“Steven.” Robin glared at him, suddenly serious.
“What?” Steve blinked up at her, all suave charm gone, now the picture of complete innocence.
“Don’t.”
“I won’t!”
“I mean it!”
Steve scoffed. “I said I wouldn’t, didn’t I?”
They stared each other down.
Robin sighed heavily to herself, as though the weight of the world was suddenly on her shoulders. “75 percent of the way through.”
“30 percent.”
“65.”
“40.”
“50.”
Robin pursed her lips.
“Alright. 50 percent of the way through.” She held her hand out.
Steve took it with a grin, giving her a much firmer handshake than the one he had given Eddie earlier.
“Now!” Robin pulled her hand back, clapping them both together. “Grab your scripts and to your positions. We’re doing a chemistry read! Eddie, you’re the aloof, hot love interest, Steve you’re the grumpy cashier. I want to see that same kind of chemistry on screen. I want banter. I want longing. I want the kind of tension that makes the audience yell kiss already!”
Eddie stared after her, wide eyed and a little enthralled at the fact that he had found someone who was just as unpredictable as he was.
He looked down as Steve handed him his script, pulled from the back on his folding chair. Eddie took it with a little swoop in his stomach and almost an electric shock in his fingers as skin brushed skin.
“Thanks.” He grinned. “So what was all that about?”
“Hmm?” Steve asked, almost distracted, his own script held loose and almost forgotten in his own hand, eyes fixed on Eddie’s mouth.
“The percentages thing?”
“Oh.” Steve shrugged, casual as anything. “I’m not allowed to try to fuck you until we’re at least 50% of the way through the shoot.”
If Eddie had been drinking something at the time, it would have been the perfect comedic spit take.
But alas, his mouth was empty.
Although… if he played his cards right, he might be able to get his mouth full of something after they were fifty percent of the way through this shoot.
He took a moment. Took a breath. Blinked.
“Well, Stevie.” Eddie rumbled, leaning in close, hovering as he pushed himself to his feet. Steve stayed exactly where he was, slow smile spreading over his face, eyes unable to leave Eddie’s mouth. “That’s going to be a very agonising wait.”
Steve’s slow smile only deepened, eyes flicking briefly to Eddie’s eyes before drifting back down to his mouth. “You say that like it’s going to be unbearable for you.”
Eddie leaned in a little closer, just enough that the faint scent of cologne and hairspray from Steve’s hoodie hit him. “Oh, sweetheart… I’m going to make sure it’s unbearable for both of us.”
Eddie wasn’t entirely sure when 50% of the shoot would come to pass, but he was completely sure that Steve knew and was going to make good on his promise.
Robin hadn’t wanted the shoot to be put in jeopardy by all of the ways two co-stars fucking on the regular could lead to and Eddie respected that.
But then he would catch sight of Steve’s hand holding a pen or the muscles in his back, tantalizingly hidden beneath his shirts. He’d watch the stretch of Steve’s jeans as he climbed a set of stairs or watch his throat as he threw back his 6 a.m. coffee.
And all of that would be fine if he wasn’t also attracted to Steve as a person.
Not just for his fantastic ass or his hairy chest or his lips.
But also for the way be spoke to the crew members, the extras, the small time actors. Like they were people and not just background props for his stardom.
For the way he bitched and poked at Robin in ways that were endlessly endearing, like a petulant younger brother trying to rile up his older sister even though Eddie was pretty sure Steve was older. That was just the energy they had when together.
For the way Steve’s laugh came out, low and quiet at first, before spilling into something genuinely warm and unconstrained when Eddie said something particularly ridiculous.
For the way he’d squint a little when reading a line as though running through every eventuality but then without hesitation he’d trust Eddie to throw a line back that was completely unexpected but he took it in stride, easily.
For the way Steve carried himself on set, half confident, half hesitant, as though he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved to be there, but somehow always filling the space regardless, raw magnetism drawing eyes to him.
And every time he noticed these things, Eddie’s chest tightened. Because he wasn’t just attracted to Steve’s looks. He was drawn to Steve. The messy, complicated, quietly brilliant Steve Harrington who had survived tabloid headlines and child-star burnout and still managed to be completely captivating without even trying.
Eddie couldn’t get enough of him.
Mealtimes on set were some of Eddie’s favourites. Not only because they were being catered for by a wizard of a man with incredible hair, who made the best god damn Mexican food truck cuisine, quite possibly in the entire world, but also because Steve and Eddie always ate together and more often than not, were able to eat in just each others company.
Steve was idly picking at his tostada, watching with a smile that was far too endeared as Eddie shovelled his chile verde into his mouth without a polite table manner in sight.
“I’ve been wondering,” Steve stopped pretending to be interested in his food, folding his arms on the table and leaning in with a tilt of his head. “What was your favourite role you’ve ever done?”
Eddie blinked, feeling rice plop from where it had been stuck to his chin back down into his bowl, his cheeks bulging.
With a great big swallow that had probably bought him too close to choking, Eddie levelled Steve with a bright smile that, despite his table manners, had Steve grinning bigger.
“Oh man, easy. Hands down, it was the definitely not queer coded villain I got to voice in this kids movie-”
Steve raised an eyebrow. “Not queer coded?”
“Did I say that? I meant definitely queer coded,” Eddie said with a wicked grin. “But you know. Studio insisted otherwise. Anyway. It was based on Shakespeare. I was the evil uncle who kills the king, steals the throne, struts around with a limp wrist, pinky out… y’know… vocally. Got to sneer, got to prance, got to monologue like a lunatic. And I got to sing, Stevie. Full-on epic villain ballad.” He threw his hands out for emphasis, nearly flinging pork across the courtyard. “Like, peak megalomaniac show tune vibes. It was glorious. I’d play a thousand campy villains if I had the chance.”
“Haven’t you?”
Eddie tilted his head back and forth considering.
“I suppose I have. I’ve done hundreds upon hundreds of episodes, a butt load of voice acting gigs… I guess I mean I’d do it all over again.”
“And yet here you are.”
“Here I am.”
Steve grinned at him, warm and dazzling in a way that made Eddie’s stomach explode in butterflies.
Eddie grinned back, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry. I get carried away sometimes. You probably didn’t want a whole essay on my cartoon villain era.”
But Steve just smiled at him, softer this time. “No, it’s fine. It’s… nice. Seeing someone who actually loves what they do. Even if it’s not, y’know, A-list stuff.”
The words hung there, and Steve winced a little, belatedly hearing how the comment might have sounded a little dickish.
But Eddie only smirked, waving it off with a theatrical and limp flick of his wrist. “Please. The A-list stuff isn’t camp enough for me anyway. I’d wither away if I had to play another brooding cop or generic leading man. Give me eyeliner and evil monologues any day.”
Steve huffed a laugh into his drink. “Figures.”
Eddie tilted his head. “What about you, big boy? Favourite role before your… uh… exit from the biz?”
Steve’s smile turned thoughtful and Eddie silently relaxed, worried for a moment he’d brought up a topic too painful for lunchtime.
Steve sat back, chewing slowly on a bite of tostada like he was buying himself time.
“Favourite role,” he repeated, almost to himself. “That’s… a tough one.”
Eddie watched him closely, propping his chin on his hand, ready to hang on every word. Steve huffed out a small laugh at that and set his food down.
“There was this one,” he said finally. “Stage production. Not even film. My parents thought theatre was beneath me, but my agent pushed for it. Said it would look good on my resume. I was fourteen. It wasn’t even a big production. Wasn’t Broadway or the West End or even Off-Broadway that my parents would have ‘settled’ for. It was small and intimate and… fantastic.”
Eddie’s smile grew soft. “Oh? Found your calling did you?”
Steve smiled, a little crooked. “I think so. I loved it. No cameras in my face. No director breathing down my neck trying to make me ‘marketable.’ Just… me, on stage, figuring out how to be someone else for a while. The audience laughed in the right spots. Cried in the right spots. It just felt like acting without all the… the bluster around it.”
Steve’s smile, which had been bright and dazzling as he reminisced faded as quickly as it had come. “And then the show ended. And it was back to… the machine. Paparazzi outside my house. My parents dragging me to premieres, telling me to smile wider, talk smoother, sell the image. My manager feeding me lines to say in interviews. And I… I started sneaking out. Parties, drinks, whatever I could find to… I don’t know. Feel like I was choosing something.”
Eddie’s heart chipped away watching him. Steve’s voice had gone low, thoughtful, carrying the weight of something he hadn’t shared in a long time.
“I guess that’s why it all happened,” Steve said finally. He shrugged, trying to play it off casual, but the edges of his mouth were tight. “The stage was the only time it felt real. Everything else was just… white noise.”
Without thinking, Eddie reached across the space between them, slipping his fingers over Steve’s. Steve startled, but didn’t pull away. Instead, he let out a shaky breath and turned his hand so their palms pressed together, warm and solid.
“You still love it,” Eddie said quietly. “I can see it. You’re good at it, too. But hey. If you ever need a break? Just say the word and I’ll smuggle you off set myself. We’ll disappear. No cameras, no scripts, just… gone.”
Steve huffed a laugh at that, the sound breaking through the heaviness like sunlight through clouds. His fingers curled, squeezing Eddie’s hand, grounding them both.
“Yeah,” he said, softer than Eddie had ever heard him. “I think… with you here, I’ll be able to do it. No problem.”
When they got back to set, Steve was alight with something new, something brighter. He started leaning into Eddie, tugging him closer, pushing and pulling in their scenes like it was a game only they knew the rules to. Improvising, teasing, flirting until the air between them practically sparked.
Maybe that was why, when Eddie walked onto set the next day, he was almost calm about the fact that today was the day of their first on-screen kiss.
Almost.
Because beneath the calm was a low, thrumming hum, like the buzz of an amp before the first strum. His hands weren’t shaking, his stomach wasn’t flipping. But his brain wouldn’t stop replaying all the ways Steve had been looking at him lately. The smirks, the near-touches, the way Steve lingered just a little too long between lines.
Robin greeted them both with her usual briskness, but Eddie swore her grin was sharper than usual, like she knew exactly what she was about to set loose. “Alright, lovebirds,” she said, clapping her hands. “We’re running the kiss scene today. Keep it PG, don’t fuck on camera, that is not the kind of movie I am making today.”
Steve groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Jesus, Rob.”
“What?” she said innocently, though her grin was wicked. “Just setting expectations.”
Eddie barked out a laugh, tipping his head back, trying to shake the crackle of nerves before they fried him alive. “Good to know where the line is,” he said, waggling his eyebrows at Steve. “Guess we’ll just have to keep it classy, sweetheart.”
Steve shot him a look, equal parts warning and challenge. “Don’t call me sweetheart unless you want Rob’s no fucking on camera rule broken.”
Eddie’s grin widened.
Steve looked at him with a steadily heating gaze.
They were called to their marks, the little patch of tape on the scuffed linoleum floor of the record shop set suddenly feeling like hallowed ground. Eddie smoothed his palms down his thighs, bouncing on the balls of his feet once before settling into character.
Steve slid in next to him, his shoulders hunching into the character of he grumpy cashier. But his eyes flicked up at Eddie’s just before the cameras rolled, and the wink that was sent his way, cheeky and so fucking attractive nearly put Eddie flat on his ass.
There was a steady buzz in Eddie’s ears. He barely heard Robin call Action! He barely heard Steve speak his line, he repeated his own back on autopilot because the second Steve placed his warm and large hand on the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him forward, leaning in and pressing his lips against Eddie’s soft and sure and confident, Eddie was in the clouds.
The kiss wasn’t delicate. It wasn’t tentative. Steve kissed like he’d been waiting for this, like Robin’s cameras and crew and the hot stage lights were nothing compared to the pull between them.
Eddie made a noise, half surprise, half delight, before his body remembered what to do. His hand slid instinctively to Steve’s hip, fingers curling in his shirt as he leaned in and gave back, matched the steady, grounded confidence of Steve’s mouth with the bite and recklessness of his own.
Somewhere far in the distance Robin called Cut!
It took a few extra seconds for them to separate.
They stared at each other, slightly cross eyed from their maintained closeness but Eddie knew Steve was thinking the exact same thing he was.
Fuck that 50% rule.
AO3 As always, my biggest thanks and much love to @hbyrde36 and @pearynice for the beta work with this and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation!
