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Tommy hates college. He had thought it would be parties and girls and wild nights he could brag about to anyone who would listen, just like in high school. But the reality of it? College is nothing like that.
Or at least it’s not for him. He doesn’t get invited to frat parties, tries to rush and gets laughed out of the running, and despite getting onto the basketball team, their school doesn’t qualify for the SEC so no one gives a shit. It’s pretty embarrassing, actually.
And don’t even talk to him about his grades. No one told him that college classes were going to be so fucking hard.
So yeah, Tommy’s pretty miserable. He knows it’s bad when he’s literally counting down the days until he can go back to fucking Hawkins for summer break. From what his parents tell him, the place is a shitshow after the weird ass earthquakes, but anything would be better than the shitty time he’s having at college.
Especially if he can get Harrington to meet up with him. God knows that fucker has to be doing worse than he is. He couldn’t get into college, is probably still working that deadbeat job at Family Video with that weird chick Buckley that wouldn’t bang him, last he heard. He probably needs Tommy to come and liven things up, maybe they could even relive their glory days of high school. Throw a fucking raging party at Steve’s parent’s house, though Tommy’s not really sure there’s anyone worthwhile left in Hawkins to invite. At the very least, Tommy can get really drunk and make up some shit about how much fun he’s having at college. Harrington won’t know the difference.
It’s a solid plan, he tells himself.
So, he manages to scrape by on his finals and secures at least one more semester so his dad won’t be breathing down his neck and then he packs his car and makes the long-ass boring drive back to Hawkins.
Which, his parents were right about how bad things have gotten. There’s some wicked fault lines that have appeared and there are considerably less people than he remembers. The diner is gone, and so is the mall, which was about all Hawkins had going for it. Bummer, Tommy thinks to himself. What the hell is he going to do while he’s here?
Well, at least he can suss out Harrington. That’ll make him feel better. Automatically, he heads over to Family Video, expecting to see his former friend slinging movies from behind the counter. It’s better than the hilariously terrible stint Steve had at Scoops Ahoy in the mall, but not by much.
But when he gets there, the guy behind the counter looks really confused when Tommy asks for Steve. “He hasn't worked here in months, man.”
That’s a surprise. “What about Buckley? You know, weird chick who hangs out with Steve sometimes? She worked here too.”
The guy shakes his head. “Nope, she’s not here either. Why are you looking for them?” the guy asks, suddenly narrowing his eyes at Tommy like he knows what he’s up to.
“Just wanted to catch up,” he lies easily and ducks out before the guy, Keith, can give him another one of those looks. Okay, so that takes care of that. He has zero idea of where else he could find Steve, but Hawkins isn’t that big. Maybe he could just drive around until he sees Harrington’s ugly Beemer, it’s not like it’s hard to find.
So, he does just that. It gives Tommy a good look at how fucked up the earthquake was, which makes his stomach squirm just a little. He doesn’t really have a whole lot of loyalty to his hometown, besides once being the second in command of it in high school, but it makes him feel a little guilty that he wasn’t here when shit went down. So, instead, he focuses on finding Harrington.
It’s pure coincidence that he happens to see Steve coming out of Meldvald’s, carrying grocery bags and looking like he’s whistling to himself. What the fuck. Steve’s folks have someone bring groceries from the fancy store two towns over because Meldvald’s is kind of shitty, so what is Steve even doing here? Still, he pulls in next to him and calls out the window, “Harrington? Is that you?”
Steve squints at him and it looks like it takes him a minute to recognize Tommy, which Tommy finds a little insulting. “Tommy?” he asks, but there’s no inflection, nothing. Like he is barely registering that Tommy is here in the first place. Again, what the fuck. “I thought you were in Indianapolis or something?”
Tommy scoffs. “Yeah, but I’m home for the summer. Thought we could, you know, hang out? Catch up maybe? It’s been a while, man,” Tommy tries to sound more friendly than he feels. Really, he’s only looking for a pick-me-up, it’s not like he wants to be friends with Harrington again, not now that he’s become a loser.
“Uh, what?” Steve asks, shifting his groceries in his arms. “Are you serious?”
Well, that’s not how Tommy expected this to go. “Yeah. We could grab some lunch or something?”
Something complicated crosses Steve’s face until it finally settles into some kind of placid smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s vaguely unsettling, if Tommy is honest with himself. “I guess I can free up some time. Let me go drop my groceries off and I’ll meet you at Surfer Boy’s.”
“Surfer what?” Tommy asks stupidly.
Steve rolls his eyes and wow, that’s new. “It’s the new pizza place over on Winston. My friend helped open it. Meet there in an hour?” He nods when Tommy does and gets in the car, speeding off before Tommy can even really contemplate all of that. He guesses he could follow him, Hawkins isn’t that big, but that seems kind of weird.
Instead, Tommy goes and drops his stuff off at his parents’ place, surprised when he doesn’t see Steve’s car in front of the mansion Steve grew up in. Interesting. Maybe he was buying groceries for someone else? It’s a weird thought but Tommy doesn’t give it too much more thought before he’s hopping back in his car and heading to Winston Street.
He pulls up in front of what he guesses is Surfer Boy’s. How this kind of place opened up here is completely beyond Tommy. Still, pizza doesn’t sound terrible and he hasn’t eaten since he left Indianapolis that morning, so it’s as good a place as any.
He walks inside and is greeted by a guy at the counter who has the longest hair of anyone Tommy’s ever seen. “Welcome to Surfer Boy’s, my dude. Dining in or taking out?” the guy asks, his California accent thick as hell.
“Uh, dining in? I’m waiting for someone,” he replies, confused.
The guy, whose name tag reads Argyle, motions to the couple of empty booths in the corner. Tommy’s frankly surprised by the amount of people in the place, but he guesses there aren’t that many options in Hawkins to eat out anymore. “Take your pick and I’ll be with you when your party arrives.” The guy chuckles and Tommy’s beginning to wonder if the guy is stoned or something. He wouldn’t put it past some weirdo from California to come to work stoned. Still, he slides into a booth and folds his hands on the table to wait for Steve.
He’s not waiting long before Steve comes in and waves at Argyle, who looks pleased to see him. They exchange a really complicated looking handshake that ends with Steve throwing his head back and laughing, the sound foreign to Tommy. He’s never seen Steve laugh like that, so open and unfettered. He used to sneer, or snigger behind his hand, but this is nothing like that.
Finally Steve seems to notice him and he says something to Argyle, who just nods and disappears into the back. Weird. Then Steve is walking his way, hands in his pockets, and Tommy has to do a bit of a double-take. He didn’t get a good look at Steve earlier when they briefly met up, but wow Steve doesn’t look at all like Tommy remembers.
For starters, his hair is longer and a little shaggier, but no less still ridiculously well-taken care of, just like in high school. He’s wearing a dark blue shirt that looks well-worn and soft, and dark jeans that Steve from high school wouldn’t have been caught dead in. The weirdest thing is the denim vest he’s wearing, stuck through with safety pins and some raggedy patches that look like names of bands that Tommy has never heard of. There’s some rusty stains on the collar and Steve has a really gnarly looking scar around his neck, and Tommy wonders if it has something to do with the earthquake.
Steve slides into the booth, sprawling out and looking pretty nonplussed to be here. “Hey,” is all he says, like they weren’t best friends for years and ruled Hawkins together, right before Steve fell from grace. Tommy feels a little bad about how quickly he dropped Harrington for Hargrove that last year of high school, but he doubts Steve will worry about that. He’s probably just glad to have a friend or something.
“Hey. You look… different,” Tommy manages, not sure how else to say it.
Steve shrugs and doesn’t say anything else. “People change,” is all he says, sounding uncharacteristically cryptic. “So, back in Hawkins for the summer, huh? Not sure why, but that’s cool, I guess.”
Tommy’s so caught off guard it takes him a minute to reply. “Uh, yeah. You know, college life is pretty rad, but I needed some time away. Mom’s been asking me to come home so I thought I would come visit. It’s… changed a lot.” He knows he sounds pretty fucking dumb, but there’s just something really off-putting about Steve’s whole deal that’s tripping him up.
“Earthquakes and people dying will do that,” Steve replies with a dark chuckle, but his face clears after a moment. “It’s not all terrible. People really rallied together afterwards to take care of one another. It was kind of nice, you know?”
He doesn’t know, but he plays along. “I thought you would have left this place in the dust or something. We all did,” Tommy says, like he still talks to any of their old highschool friends. Carole ditched him freshman year for some older guy and Hargrove died in the mall fire, so really, Steve is about all that Tommy’s got left.
Steve shrugs again. “I thought about it. Might still, after the kids graduate and move on, but-”
“Excuse me, kids?” Tommy cuts in. Steve has kids?
“Oh, yeah. The kids I babysit. Though I guess they’d probably all shit a brick if they heard me call it that, but it is what it is. That and I start EMT school in the fall, so I’ll probably hang around at least until I finish that.”
He says it so casually, but Tommy can see the smile creeping on his face. A real smile, not like the fake shit Steve used to do back in high school. And he doesn’t sound at all ashamed of being some nanny to a pack of brats, which is really fucking with Tommy’s head. “EMT school?”
“Yeah. After all the shit happened in the spring, I decided it would be pretty awesome to help people. I pitched in with some first aid during the relief efforts and one of the guys said I’d make a good EMT, so that’s the plan. Eventually I’ll probably go on to paramedic school, but that’s a ways off.”
Who even is this guy? The Steve Tommy knew would have never gotten his hands dirty with other people’s blood. Helping out during a disaster, okay maybe, but actively pursuing it as a job? Tommy’s beginning to wonder if he’s being pranked or something. “What does your dad think of that?” he can’t help but ask. From everything Tommy remembers about Harrington Senior, he would probably die before he’d let his son do something so beneath him.
Steve lets out a snort and the smile on his face is a little twisted, a little ugly. “Who gives a fuck? I don’t live under his roof anymore and I’m making my own way. It’s not like he could be bothered to care first.”
That’s probably the first time Tommy’s ever heard Steve cop to that out loud. Before, he’d always sort of dance around it, that his parents were never home and they didn’t seem to care what he got up to, as long as he didn’t get caught. It’s why Steve’s parties were always the best, access to money and space that no one else had. Well, now it’s clear there won’t be any famous Harrington parties being thrown while Tommy’s in town, at least not at the house in Loch Nora. Explains why Steve’s car wasn’t there. “Oh, I guess so, man. Good for you. It probably sucks though, not having Daddy’s credit card anymore.” It’s meant to be a joke, but it doesn’t seem to land very well.
“Not really, no. It’s kind of nice, not having to worry about dealing with his bullshit expectations anymore. I’m kind of free to do what I want, go where I want, be what I want. It’s freeing.”
For one heartbeat of a moment, Tommy feels a raging jealousy swirl in his stomach at that. He’s still under his dad’s thumb, even out in Indianapolis, and he knows what’s waiting for him when he finally gets his bullshit degree. It’ll be a job in his dad’s office where he’ll eventually work his way up and take over when his old man retires. Not exactly what he wants to do, but it’s what the plan is.
But Tommy shakes it off. So what if Steve doesn’t have to worry about that anymore? Surely it can’t be that great. “Where are you living now?”
“Me and Buckley got a place over on Ninth and Grady. It’s not much but it’s better than that fucking maseoleum of a house I was in. Though, having to figure out how to fix a burst pipe at three in the morning was an adventure,” Steve says with a laugh, that same loud, happy laugh from when he was talking to Argyle. It’s almost disconcerting how happy it makes him.
Tommy thinks that sounds like a fucking nightmare, if he’s honest. So, he tries another tack. “Finally managed to get around to banging Buckley, huh? Weird taste, but I guess pickings are pretty slim now that you’re not in high school,” he tries, but he is not expecting the way Steve’s nose scrunches.
“Nope. Still just platonic friends. I don’t have to be banging a girl to hang out with her,” Steve says breezily, but there’s an undertone there that makes Tommy squirm a little in his seat. “She’s like my sister, dude.”
“What, is she some kind of-”
Steve’s eyes gleam and his face twists into a snarl, looking more dangerous than Tommy’s ever seen him. He knows Steve got his shit rocked by both by fucking weird ass Byers and by Billy, but in that moment, Tommy’s kind of afraid of him. “Watch your fucking mouth, Hagan. I’ll make you eat your teeth right here in this dining room.” Honestly, with the way Steve’s lip is curled, Tommy believes him and a shiver runs down his spine.
“Sorry, dude,” is all he can manage, even as he throws his hands up in the air.
Steve sits back, but his eyes don’t lose that feral light in them just yet. “Good.” There’s a heartbeat where Tommy doesn’t know what to say, but then Argyle comes by with a massive pepperoni pizza that makes Tommy’s stomach growl. “Thanks, man,” Steve replies, his face transforming back into something less terrifying.
Argyle gives them a salute, but Tommy doesn’t miss the way his eyes rove over him, like he’s judging Tommy and finding him lacking. Tommy doesn’t like it all. “Anytime, Stevie my dude. Though I was surprised the gremlin patrol wasn’t here to share.”
Must be talking about Steve’s… kids, Tommy reasons.
Steve chuckles and it’s light, almost sweet. “Nah, not today. Eddie’s got them over at the arcade. At least until,” he pauses, looking at a wristwatch that looks like it came out of a bargain bin. It throws Tommy off again. “Six. Then Nancy’s got them, I think.”
“Oh yeah! Movie night! Jonny mentioned it. Sorry you’re gonna miss it, man. Next week, though, right?”
“Yeah, next week. We’re hosting anyway.”
It’s like Steve has completely forgotten Tommy is here. Listening to him make plans is making Tommy’s head spin a little. Steve has movie nights? With this guy and some other guy named Jonny and Nancy and… wait, did he mean Jonathon Byers and Nancy Wheeler?
“You still hang out with Nancy?” Tommy asked, bewildered. Last he knew, Nancy had dumped Steve for Byers and Steve had moped about it for ages. It was probably the beginning of the end of the reign of King Steve.
The two of them whip their heads around to look at him, like they’d just remembered that he was there, and it rankles Tommy something fierce. Argyle heads back to the kitchen and Steve doesn’t look at all bothered by this question. “Yeah? Remember what I said about being friends with girls and not banging them? We went through some shit together and we’re still friends.”
Tommy isn’t sure what to think about that. “And you hang out with Byers too?” he presses.
“Yeah. Me and Jonathon are cool now. We all went through some shit when the earthquake happened and it kind of helped clear the air. It puts things into perspective when you’re not sure if you’re gonna make it through.” Steve’s fingers creep towards the scar on his neck and Tommy wants really badly to ask what happened. It’s pretty badass, if he’s honest, but not what he would expect to see on Steve of all people.
“So, the earthquake. What exactly happened because that scar is-”
Anything Tommy would have said is suddenly cut off when they hear, “Stevie! There you are!” from across the restaurant. And who should fucking appear but Eddie Fucking Munson, sliding into the booth next to Steve like he belongs there.
Now, Tommy only knew Eddie as the kid he shoved around in the hallway and who he occasionally bought weed from at parties. He knows he’s a weird fucking dude and there were rumors that he killed a girl over spring break, which wouldn’t surprise Tommy, considering what a fucking freak he was.
He waits for Steve to sneer at him, tell Munson to clear the fuck out, but instead Steve smiles and makes room for him like he’s glad to see him. “I thought you were at the arcade? Dustin said he was going to cream you at Dig Dug.”
“He fucking wishes,” Munson replies, but it’s warm, affectionate. “Anyway, Nancy and Robin showed up early and ran herd for me, so I figured I would come find you.” He looks at Tommy, deep, dark eyes roaming over him like some kind of puzzle. “Didn’t know you’d be in need of rescuing, princess.”
Princess?? Tommy opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s not sure he’s not hallucinating all of this. And is that… is Munson wearing Steve’s yellow sweater? It’s slightly too big on him, sleeves covering his fingers that are covered in chunky rings and his nails painted black.
Again, Steve just fucking laughs, like this isn’t sending Tommy’s world spinning on its axis. “Nothing to worry about. Tommy just ran into me and wanted to catch up.”
Munson lets out a hum, narrowing his eyes like he can see straight through to Tommy’s real reason he invited Steve out. The two of them share a look, like they’re having a whole conversation with their eyes only and Steve just raises his eyebrows. It’s like the Argyle thing all over again and since when are they such close fucking friends? “Isn’t that sweet?” is all Munson says, right before he grabs one of the slices of pizza and helps himself.
Tommy almost tells him to fuck off, but he swallows it back down. Instead, he says, “I didn’t know you two were friends. Is this another ‘we went through some shit’ sort of situation?” unable to keep the snipe out of his voice. He and Steve used to be those kinds of friends and they just to be the kind of friends who would shove people like Munson into lockers, not share pizza with them.
They share another one of those weird, silent looks and both of them begin to laugh, seemingly at Tommy’s expense, which does not feel good at all. “Something like that,” Steve replies cryptically, again with that same tone from earlier.
“Aww, Stevie, you flatter me so,” Munson simpers in a ridiculous falsetto as he bats his eyelashes.
Again, Tommy waits for Steve to shove him, or tell him off, but instead Steve just smiles. “Only the best for you, Munson,” he teases back, but Munson sounds a lot like something else. “Which is why we should probably get going. You said you wanted to hit that store before the game. I don’t want to miss the kick-off.”
“ You like sports?” Tommy blurts out in Munson’s direction. The idea that Munson might like football is beginning to make Tommy wonder if he’s in an alternate dimension or something.
“I don’t,” Munson replies rather bluntly around a mouthful of pizza. He pushes his sleeves up and he reveals some pretty awful looking scars on his arms that make Tommy wince. “But Steve does, so I offered to go with him. It’s not that terrible, he lets me make fun of the commentary and he’s nice enough to explain what’s going on.” Munson reaches up and pinches Steve’s cheek, like this is completely normal between the two of them. “Plus he buys me a milkshake after, so who am I to complain?”
This is weird. This is so weird and Tommy can’t process what is going on in front of him. Steve bats Munson’s hand away but his eyes are shining and he looks almost… fond. Like they’re fucking best friends or something and Tommy is beginning to hate every single minute of this and regret ever pulling into that fucking parking lot.
“It’s only fair, considering how much Dorks and Dwarves I have to listen to on a regular basis,” Steve fires back, and maybe this is when things will turn ugly, but Munson just laughs.
“You’ve used that one already, get a new bit, Stevie.”
They laugh and Tommy feels left out of the joke.
“Oh, Tommy, you didn’t tell me. How’s school going? You’re at… Butler?” Steve asks, squinting.
Tommy almost wants to get shitty about Steve forgetting, but then he remembers they weren’t really friends when Tommy got his acceptance letter. His father had been furious that he didn’t get into Butler, but Tommy doesn’t say that. “U of I, actually. It’s… great. Really great,” he manages to choke out. He can’t even make himself lie to Steve like he had planned on before.
Steve’s eyebrows go up, but he just says, “Well, that’s good, I guess.”
The silence hangs kind of awkwardly between all of them, punctuated only with the sound of chewing. Tommy can’t stand it. “So, uh, I guess you’re doing pretty good for yourself, huh?” It’s probably the dumbest thing he could think of saying, but it’s what comes out of his mouth.
Steve’s whole face lights up and he looks genuinely happy. Tommy’s sure he’s never seen Steve look this happy in the entire time he’s known him. “Absolutely. Life’s pretty great, man.” He and Munson share a look and they both start to laugh again and Tommy squints and looks between them.
No fucking way.
He’s imagining things. There’s no way that Steve Harrington, who has probably banged more girls than Tommy could even imagine, would be… no. He’s just seeing things because he’s… what, jealous? Jealous that Steve has a new best friend and is so fucking happy with his stupid little life here in stupid little Hawkins. He’s living the life that Tommy should be living up at college, but he’s not. Steve’s a fucking nobody and he doesn’t even care.
“Happy for you, man,” Tommy forces out, but when he goes to open his mouth again, Steve interrupts him.
“No you’re not.”
When Tommy looks up at him, Steve’s eyes are lidded and he’s smirking, settled back into the booth with one arm seemingly around Munson. It’s the kind of look that King Steve wishes he would have had in high school. The confusion must be written all over Tommy’s face because Steve adds, “No you’re not. I’m not stupid, Tommy. You show up in town, looking miserable, and you thought I would be just as miserable as you are.”
“It’s pretty funny, if you think about it. You spent so much of your time being a complete fuckface in high school and it’s like karma caught up, you know?” Munson chimes in, propping his chin in his hands.
“So was Steve!” Tommy sputters, feeling his face go hot. He’s not sure when this turned into him being backed into a corner by the two of them, but it doesn’t feel good. Maybe Munson isn’t that far off; he’s starting to feel like one of the kids he used to loom over back in his glory days.
Another complicated look crosses Steve’s face, but before he can say anything, Munson butts in again, “Yeah, and you know what? Steve grew the fuck up and got over it. If anyone has paid his dues for being a dickhead in another life, it’s Steve.” There’s that tone again, that makes Steve’s name sound like Munson wanted to say something else.
“Aww, Eds, you charmer.” Steve is still smirking, but it’s softer at the edges.
“Only the best for you, big boy.”
That’s when the two of them get to their feet and Tommy is very aware of how much they both sort of… loom over him. Steve’s got this whole presence to him now that has Tommy’s knees knocking a little under the table. It doesn’t help that fucking Munson is standing at his shoulder, looking all the world like Carole used to look when she’d stand behind Tommy. They’re dynamic, even Tommy can admit it, even if he couldn’t make words form if he wanted to. “C’mon, Eds. We don’t want to be late and I think we’re done here.”
“You can’t just walk away! What the fuck, Harrington!” Tommy yells, getting to his feet. Something ugly is swirling in his gut at the idea of his former friend just… leaving him here. He didn’t get what he wanted and now he’s being treated like trash?
“Pretty sure that’s exactly what we’re doing, Hagan ,” Munson calls out, not even bothering to turn around.
Steve does, though. That same feral light is in his eye and his lip hitches. “Also, be careful who you hang around with while you’re here. Running with the wrong people might get you in trouble, ” he says, casually, but there’s an undercurrent that makes Tommy’s stomach sink to the floor. He cocks his head and looks Tommy square in the eye as he hooks his finger in Munson’s belt loop right before they disappear out the door.
Tommy collapses back into the booth and it takes him longer than it should to get his breath back under control. Fuck, it’s a good thing he hadn’t started running his mouth and calling Munson some choice names. Steve might have actually killed him, and isn’t that a fucking thought?
“Fuck this,” he mutters. So much for his pick-me-up. Now he just feels worse than ever and he doesn’t even have anyone to seek out. He looks forlornly at the pizza and realizes that he’s completely lost his appetite.
He gets up and starts to walk out, but the long-haired guy, Argyle, stops him. His smile is affable, but he doesn’t miss the same gleam in his eye. “Dude, you can’t just walk out without paying. Pizza’ll be 5.50.”
Tommy growls and shoves some money at the guy before muscling past him. And if he takes a minute to look over his shoulder in the parking lot, that’s his business.
Great. Just fucking great. This summer is going to fucking suck.
-End-