revivalproject | Purple Haze all in my Brain

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Purple Haze all in my Brain

WHO: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, and the 420 crowd
WHERE: The Hideout that's not a club and is instead an underground refuge
WHAT: Steve and Eddie cuddling and then blazing up
WHEN: During event
WARNINGS: DRUGS! Pot be smoking up here!

CLOSED TO EDDIE:

Getting a base set up wasn't too hard. The area around here is big and there's rooms jutting out all over the place. One of the more private areas is where Steve picks for the two of them since they need to be so 'careful' about the 'PDA'. Steve's still a little sore about that as he puts the finishing touches on the blanket door for the room and then finally, with that done, starts taking his shirt off to relax in "bed". It's been a crazy few days, all considered. They escaped a volcano, had a fight with Hargrove, made up with Hargrove, and then got here where they'll be camping out until...whenever.

But at least he has Eddie.

Smiling, he walks over to his boyfriend and hooks his chin over his shoulder. "Dunno about you, but I am beat. I think I'm gonna go lay down." He presses a kiss to his jaw hinge. "Feel free to stay up, babe. Buuut if I can entice you to come lay down with the promise of illegal PDA behavior...."

OPEN:

The word is getting around slowly. It's been a week or so and with the immediate survival taken care of, things are getting boring. Steve dribbles his ball around and tries to help out wherever he can. But even with all that, time crawls. He's not an explorer so that isn't appealing and as much as the new plant information is fun to mess around with, he itches for a different sort of plant to take away some of the monotony. So...he spread the word: hotboxing his and Eddie's little room as best they could and anyone game for that sort of fun was also included.

Steve already has a blunt burning by the time people are meant to show up. He leans up against one of the walls and inhales deep and lets it out slow. Even with his practice, he still coughs a little but whatever. He is past caring at this point.

As the blanket swings, he turns to smile at whoever is walking in and give a drowsy "Heeeeeey!" The blunt is extended out, always a giver for things like this. "Make sure the curtain thing is closed behind you. There's some rocks holding it down at the bottom. No high kids in this place. No siree."

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"Yeah, none," Robin laughs as she slips in to the room. Don't mind her as she fusses with the rocks to anchor the door.

"Pretty sure you're not a kid anymore, Steve. You helped kill an inter-dimensional asshole."

"I meant the other kids, Robs. You know. The like..." He squats his hand down toward where his head was to indicate, potentially, a child. "Those guys."

He takes another drag since Robin's still fixing the door and then holds it out again.

"I feel like we need to be in a bathroom to do this. You know?"

Robin sits on the floor and takes the blunt to take a long drag. Then she passes it back.

"We just need a floor. You and me, on a floor, talking. Sounds about right."

Steve takes the blunt back with a chuckle and shakes his head. "It's fucking weird that one ice cream job at minimum wage led to..." He waves his arms around to encompass everything. "Russians. Monsters. Aliens. Whatcha think comes next?"

It led to more than that. More that she can't even put into words. Not high enough.

"Happily ever after for you and Eddie? Met some people who seem to have been here a long time."

But they lose their friends too. There is no winning.

"Stranger that it's leading to me finding out I can tolerate some pretty shocking things.

Steve snorts and bumps his shoulder against Robin's a little harder than he means. "Gladio said you gotta take like. One day at a time. You know? Take it as it comes. I gotta do that."

He takes another smaller inhale and hands it back.

"You can handle a lot. You can handle Hargrove. Really fucking well, too. That's...miracle."

Well she doesn't know who Gladio is but she nods. Sounds pretty fair. It's how she had dealt with the Mindflayer stuff.

"I guess I sorta get him? I know what it's like to hate Steve Harrington for the things I think he has that I wish I had," she points out.

He wiggles the joint toward Robin.

"What do I have that he wants? It's not like I'm rich here. His ass is objectively better. His hair is like...I guess third. He's getting to be friends with you and Eddie. And there's no girlfriend around for him to be jealous of."

Steve groans and scrubs his free hand over his face. "I don't get it. At home? Fine, I guess. But here? No clue."

"If everything before getting brought here was a clean slate, we wouldn't be friends and you wouldn't be justifiably upset over how he hurt you," Robin counters.

But she does take the joint and a long draw. Holds it and considers how to explain it.

"You have friends here, Steve. Support. Affection. People who trust you. And here's Billy Hargrove, who comes in knowing he's dead and hated, and now it's like access to the things he maybe never had back home are dependent on a guy who hates him."

So yeah, she can get the moodiness. And that's without getting into the past stuff a lot.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, accepting this.

"He tried to hurt Lucas," Steve grumbles, eyes closing as he leans his head back against the wall. "Beat me until I passed out. But I don't... I don't hate him. I saw some of his past in his head and... I mean, even before I didn't hate him..."

The feelings he has toward Billy are too complex for Steve to get the words for. He stares up at the ceiling, reaching for them through the quagmire of repression and fog of pot.

"I'm...scared, maybe. Of him. I feel bad for him and I get why he might have done some of the stuff he did... But I also get why Dustin's pet demodog ate his cat and it is still fucked."

There’s that. Robin hums and passes the joint over, moving so that she could stretch out on the floor. So much better to be high when she’s sure of the ground under her.

“Yeah, it is. But, like, jealousy is a whole thing too. It’s perspective. I didn’t like you because the girl I liked only looked at you. And Billy? You had money, you had friends, you had support. What did he have?”

Looking back it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? Loud boy got attention but what else? Shit, had Billy even had friends? That was something Robin got so hard. She’d never really connected with someone enough to be fully open with them. Even her confession to Steve had been a product of trauma, stress, and truth serum. Had it not been for open nights after that, maybe they wouldn’t be friends.

“You ever go look at dogs at the pound?”

Steve hums again. Robin laying down looks like a great idea so he spreads out next to her, blunt laying between them as Steve watches the ceiling. "Tommy H. So...nothing, I guess." The joke is probably only funny to him but Steve snorts anyways, amused. When he hears the question about the pound, he pauses, concerned he'd laughed through whatever part of the conversation that made it make sense.

"Uh...no? Why? Is that your...thing?"

Yeah, no, Robin was certain Tommy H’s only friend was Tommy H. So that meant Billy had no one. Plenty of people had noticed Will when he was out of it. Had anyone noticed Billy? Well… Robin had heard he was friendly with Heather Halloway maybe, but…

“My thing?” She asks, frowning. Sorry, she’s not high enough to follow the question there.

"Looking at dogs at the pound? I missed whatever made you talk about that."

Had he even heard that question at all? He's got a little bit of time with the weed on Robin right now so maybe he was too high to follow along with whatever that was about. Unless...

"Wait. Was that like. A smiley? When you compare shit? Is Billy a dog at the pound here?"

“Simile,” she corrects. “And no. It’s a metaphor, but it’s close. Think, like…”

She reaches her hand out, trying to beckon the joint back. Let her have another puff.

“Volunteered there once. And there’s all sorts of dogs. Good dogs and bad dogs. Puppies and strays and dogs people couldn’t take care of anymore. But when I went there were also these other dogs. The ones that people didn’t want. Because they were wrong somehow. Too old or too funny looking or just not used to people. And they were sad. Some of them were scared too. Wouldn’t lick your hand when you fed them. They’d whimper or growl instead.”

That’s Billy Hargrove. A dog that had never known love and didn’t know what to do in a safe place. The dog that no one wants to adopt.

“You don’t have to want to take the dog no one wants home, Steve. But at least get that the longer the dog is there, the sadder or meaner they get, and the less likely someone else is to take them. Don’t be surprised when they get a bit snappy. Because they’re a pound dog. And they don’t know better.”

Steve gives her the blunt and listens to this whole bit where, in the end, yes. Billy is a pound dog. He blinks at the end, not entirely sure what he thinks about it. But then just sort of shrugs.

"But he had like half the girls in the school going after him," he says a second before he too remembers how lonely once could be even while having a full dance card. He rests his hands on his stomach and thinks about Billy and cages and no home that is safe to go to.

"He'd probably be pissed if he knew you called him a dog," Steve points out. Easier to do that than admit she has a good point.

“So did you,” Robin points out quite happily before taking the drag and handing the thing back. Share properly, that’s her motto. And really, she’s so happy with her metaphor here, and she’s going to keep going on it, don’t try and stop her. She’s on a roll.

“Shhhh, we already covered the growling part. He’s probably, like, that dog with one bad leg and doesn’t wag its tail and maybe a chip out of its ear because it got in a fight with another dog. But it’s okay. It’s still a good dog if you have the patience to teach it love and all of that.”

Then she smiles and looks at Steve.

“And then there’s you. You’re, like, this flawlessly bred, high value, probably won awards at shows poodle with lofty pedigree? So perfect, stands to be inspected, has that hair cut that probably cost like, forty dollars or something. Everyone loves this perfect little ribbon winning poodle. Except who takes it for walksies and plays fetch? No, you’ll ruin that expensive puppy manicure! But everyone looks at the special poodle and goes ‘oh my what a perfect poodle!’ And even the pound dog gets jealous because look at the perfect poodle. Both are sad doggies because they don’t get to be what they should be.”

That makes her smile. They aren’t getting what they should be.

“Poodles are hunting dogs actually. Sorta. They were made for that. Really smart at it too. Can teach them lots of commands i hear. AND apparently they’re hypoallergenic. I hear people are considering breeding them with other sorts of dogs so more people can have dogs. But anyway, both doggies need better homes, but the poodle might get one faster because it LOOKS like a good dog. Doesn’t mean it knows how to play tug of war properly or that it knows the command for ‘off the bed’.”

It would know how to fetch. That’s just in the blood. But still, she’s REALLY happy with her metaphor here. Grinning even.

It's a great metaphor. As she explains the whole thing, Steve finds himself nodding along, struck by the idea of him being a perfect poodle that no one ever took for walks. And then, sure, he would chew up the couch or whatever but because he needed attention! And fuck you, Dad, why did it matter if he wore the pink polo or not? Was it ruining your show dog? Was it horrible that sometimes he wanted to go play with the other, non-pedigree dogs?

Just because you got the dog a really nice house and a fancy collar didn't mean it was happy!

"Oh my God," he says, dead serious and sitting up. His eyes are shinier than they were a moment ago. "I am a poodle."

Yeah! You had to let the dog be a dog! And take it outside on walks. And give it a good diet. And of course play with it and snuggle it!

But he’s agreeing and Robin is snickering. Because yes, he is. He’s the perfect poodle. With a behavioral problem when he’s not in the hands of the judges. But he can’t be blamed. At least he didn’t have any mixed breed puppies? Wait, no, metaphor too far!

“You really are, Steve,” she giggles. “And Eddie’s, like, a Rottweiler or something. Looks scary because people use them to look scary, but really super sweet and wants to cuddle ALL THE TIME.”

"He is," Steve continues, completely sappy with it. "Barks on tables about conformity or whatever. But he's just soft and warm... Looking for cuddles and love..."

His grin spreads and he pokes at Robin's stomach for her attention.

"He said that, by the way. He said he loved me. And he won't take it back in a bathroom because we're never going to any Halloween party ever."

“Well of course he does. He’s a Rottweiler. People think he’s a junk yard dog that growls and bites and attacks kids. But he’s just a little snuggle bear,” she laughs. Oh man, this is the best to think a bout. Who else?

“Jonathan looks like one of those English sheep dogs. The ones with the fur in their eyes? Like, can’t see where he’s going.”

Oh god, it’s a good picture.

Wait, no, back up. Brain, catch up with the conversation. He said it? Robin rolls over on her side to look at Steve and she’s smiling at him.

“Steve, if you wanna know the truth? I don’t know that Nancy ever loved you like she loved the idea of you. And she was, like… You know how easy it is to fall into things after the Uppsy-Downy stuff. Like our friendship. But sometimes those are bad things. The only bullshit there was that Nancy got the best of you and gave nothing back. But Eddie gives. He gives SO MUCH!”

She laughs and smiles. This is such good news.

"He doooooes," Steve whines happily. Flopping to the side he puts his head on Robin's stomach. "He shows how he feels an is just. Expressive. I don't need to pull it out of him. He just is. And he's sweet. Smart. So funny. And he doesn't make me feel stupid even when I am probably being stupid."

He sighs and just beams up at Robin.

"I have both the people I love here. And pot. For a kidnapping, it's going pretty good."

“There’s a difference between being stupid and being stupid, Steve,” Robin reminds him. She’s been here with him before. You can make stupid choices but still be smart. And other types of smart, right? Robin’s language and music and arts smart. Doesn’t mean she’s math smart. Actually, she’s REALLY not math smart. Or spatial smart. Coordinated smart.

There’s a whole list. She made it once, at Family Video. Doesn’t remember what happened to it. Probably something smart, like Steve realizing it was destroying her self confidence and so he destroyed it. Like a smart person.

“Oh, Dustin’s here?” She teases. Because of course she will. But as for her… She’s…

She’s lonely in her own way. Which she knows has to be worse for Billy.

“Now I’m just thinking of pound puppy again.”

"Yeah, yeah," he says. The speech is familiar, save it. Mentioning the 'pound puppy', Steve groans a little and turns his head to look at Robin's chin, mostly.

"Billy'll get friends. And I super hope some pretty babes start raining after the volcano so you can have a girlfriend. Just make sure you don't let Billy see her first. You two will be competing, probably." He hands over the joint feeling pleasantly high at this point. No need to cross any line.

"His home life sucked," he murmurs, not sure if he should say it or not. He can be vague. "We have that in common at least. Both not playing fetch often..."

Are they allowed to do that? Call Billy ‘pound puppy’ when it’s just the two of them? They can’t say it around Billy. He’d probably think it was an insult and take offense. Which would be bad. That would not be suited to the balance they are aiming for.

“We really won’t be competing,” Robin sighs. “Billy’s pretty on a whole other scale. So there’s no chance that any girls, rained or otherwise, are going to pick me over him.”

Not even in the personality category. She’s met herself. It’s not even a contest. She focuses on smoking instead.

“I… figured as much. Max doesn’t talk to me much, but with how things seemed to be going with her home life after, it seemed… It seemed likely? Couldn’t be sure. Wouldn’t be sure. But I guess you both can try and learn fetch now?”

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