Love is a Battlefield - Pat Benatar

What followed was a week spent as much in Eddie's bed as they could manage. Neither could keep their hands off the other, to the point that Wayne started asking grumpily if it was safe for him to leave his own room.

But inevitably that much constant time in each other's company created other, less desirable kinds of friction as well.

Eddie was climbing out of the shower when he heard the unmistakable shriek of Geddy Lee's voice. Christ that voice was annoying. He wandered back to the bedroom where Beck was playing the radio and was toweling his hair off when Geddy's voice hit a new level of shrill. When he pulled a face, Beck sighed laboriously and turned the radio down.

"I know it's not metal. You'll have to somehow forgive me."

He physically bit back the urge to say it wasn't even music and it showed on his face as always.

"You know I would think you of all people would appreciate their lyrics," she snapped.

"I don't take issue with their lyrics," he bit back as he dressed.

"Then what, exactly?"

Her tone got under his skin so quickly, her words landing like haughty little daggers. He pulled a Dio shirt on before rounding on her.

"His voice is painful, the guitarist does not keep up, and the songs are overwrought."

"It's not all about the guitar in every damn song."

"Clearly not in any of theirs."

"And tell me exactly which metal band has a better drummer than Neil Peart?"

Beck watched him fumble because regardless of how single minded he could be, a better drummer simply didn't exist.

"The role of drums in rock of any kind isn't to carry the band! The guitar should -"

"Are you fucking serious?" She said, cutting him off. "You cannot admit you're wrong?!"

"I'm not wrong," he growled through gritted teeth.

That sent Beck through the roof. She wasn't some huge Rush fan girl but she was tired of always having to bend to him on an issue that was so much about personal taste.

"What must it be like to go through each day with this un-fucking-believable arrogance?"

At a certain pitch of anger, Eddie lost the ability to articulate, so in response he spat out, "Don't be a bitch."

"Then don't be a snobbish prick."

Beck could all but see fire in his eyes as his neck flushed red. She watched him grab his coat and heard the front door bang shut behind him. That made her feel even more like screaming because she still had plenty more venom for him. But both of them had also grown up with fighting parents so she knew that for some people this was the best way of stopping further escalation.

It was a full hour till Eddie returned and by that time Beck was watching Knight Rider reruns on the couch. He seemed calmer and didn't smell too much like weed so that seemed like an improvement.

"Mind coming with me somewhere?" he asked, looking apologetic and while that wasn't an apology she didn't want to keep fighting with him.

He drove them as cautiously as she had ever seen to Camelot Music, and she followed him into the store, allowing him to lead her off to the side.

"You're not wrong," he said. "I can be… stubborn about this. So I propose a trade."

Beck felt some of the tension lift between them and her shoulders relaxed.

"I propose," he continued, "an exchange of music. Two or three choices and swap. Required listening."

She didn't say anything but gave him a skeptical look.

"No bitching or moaning. I promise."

She let herself smile. "You're on."

Eddie was shit at apologizing but he knew he did okay at gestures, so he combed through the store, trying to genuinely find things she might like that he loved. He ended up with Iron Maiden's Piece of Mind, Dio's Last in Line, and Rainbow's Rising. If she liked lyrics, and nerdy ones at that, these were solid front to back. He could work her up to Metallica eventually.

They were both playfully cagey about their choices though Beck insisted that her mom could foot the bill and paid for both sets. The guy working the counter quizzically bagged the two sets so neither could see what the other had chosen before handing them back.

Once parked at the library, they exchanged their bags.

"Promise me you won't cheat and look before you get home!" Beck demanded with a sly smile.

"You have my word as a gentleman," he declared pompously.

She grinned and started to get out before he caught her hand

"I am sorry."

"Fuck yeah you are," she teased. "You have no idea what you're in for." But she caught his collar and kissed him "I'm sorry too."

Eddie really wanted to be a liar and not at all a gentleman but he waited until he got back, dumping out the bag on the couch as soon as he was in the door.

Rush's 2112, Michael Jackson's Thriller, U2's War.

Okay… he had to admit he hadn't seen that coming.

And without knowing it, miles apart, they both began to listen to songs the other had chosen just for them.

The mundane routine of school returned but Beck was busier than before. Spring semester always included a small showcase of student productions and her reputation for stage makeup had her designing make up for several of them.

It was a new side of her that was surprising to Eddie. She spent time pouring over books, movies, and magazines to find the right looks and then sketched out how these would translate to the actors' faces. He knew there was artistry in what she did when she applied makeup and worked effects but he hadn't realized how much actual research was involved.

A character who was injured in a motorcycle wreck needed road rash applied to his face with gravel and bits of skin vs a character in a play about a haunting needed several stages of makeup application that conveyed increasing stress.

But Eddie's favorite time of year was upon them and he was desperate to have her with him even knowing how busy she was.

Beck watched him literally gallop up to her in the hall and wondered what had him more amped than usual.

"It's that time of year!" he almost crowed.

"And you are talking about…?"

"Punk Flea Market! It's in Kokomo this year which is the closest it's been in ages."

Ok, that was useful context at least. This was clearly a big deal to him if he traveled for it every year.

"You talk shit about punk not infrequently," she said, unsure why this excited him so much.

"Okay it's not just that. Vendors come from all over and there's so much cool stuff there."

Beck imagined a bunch of guys digging through old cassettes and vinyl.

"I was hoping you would come with," he said, and it was not lost on her how shy he seemed about this request.

Inwardly she groaned. Wandering around somewhere an hour away on a weekend when she had a pile of homework and sketches that needed to be done sounded like a waste of her time. But she hadn't had as much time with him lately and this was obviously important.

"Yeah, definitely."

He hugged her tightly, beaming so hard his smile lines looked like they would crack. Yeah making him smile like that was worth it, she thought.

"You know I'm going to need an assist with wardrobe," she said.

"Oh don't worry. I've got you."

He had lent her an old Iron Maiden shirt of his that was too small and some of the chain jewelry he had laying around and was very curious what she had done with them.

He had picked up coffees for them at the gas station, he was eating dry Honeycomb out of the box when she turned the corner. Spooky Beck was back but now with a midriff cropped Iron Maiden shirt under her black peacoat with chains loosely wrapping her waist. Her lips and eyes were black which made the bright blue of eyes seem to glow.

She opened the driver door expecting him to get out and laughed when she saw him still holding a handful of cereal to his mouth.

"You going to move?"

He took his box of cereal and moved to the passenger side. "This does not disprove my theory that you are trying to kill me."

"Oh and why is that?"

"Because this look only ever shows up when we're out and I can't jump on you."

She went scarlet at his frankness but did not seem at all displeased by his comment based on her smirk.

"Well you look like this every day so maybe my self-control will finally be recognized," she said, keeping her eyes very deliberately on the road.

"Oh really?" he asked, drawing out the words in a long Tim Curry-esque sing song.

"Haven't you heard? Skinny guys with no ass are what make girls hot."

He fake scowled at her so she relented.

"I've seen guys at school who were into metal before and I liked the look but you just… have the most gorgeous smile. And eyes. And hair. The whole thing together just… really, really works."

That was definitely news. He had heard before that he had nice hair and puppy eyes, but his look was never really noticed. He had put in a lot (probably too much) time hand stitching the patches into his damn denim vest and the vintage leather coat he had found at last year's Punk Flea Market had a busted zipper so his best solution had been a keychain to replace the pull. And now someone was finally noticing it as a deliberate style and it felt really damn good.

"Well if it's time for confessions," he said, sliding down in the seat and propping his feet on the dashboard, "I tried to play some of the guitar solos from Sunday Bloody Sunday and New Year's Day."

"Oh really?" she asked, mimicking his earlier tone.

"That guy, The Edge, plays the delay pedal like it is its own fucking instrument. You can't just sit down and play his stuff without one."

"I don't understand what that means," she laughed, "but I'm glad you liked it. Stargazer has been stuck in my head for like three days now."

"Perfect," he said, grinning. "My cunning plan has worked. Slowly you will be subsumed by the dark side through D&D and heavy metal."

"Maybe this is a Grease situation and you'll suddenly go clean cut and show up in a letter jacket. You don't know that's not my cunning plan."

"Alas," he leaned over, running his fingers up her thigh, "I already know exactly what you like."

She bit her lip before swiping his hand away. "Behave yourself so I don't literally kill you and put on Piece of Mind."

"If you insist," he said, his little heart fluttering a little to hear that sentence pass her lips.

While Beck had been prepared for the crowded parking lot of junk cars with metal and punk band stickers, when Eddie pushed the door open for her, she was completely floored.

This was nothing like she had expected.

There was booth after booth and while there were a good number of tables with cassettes and vinyl to hunt through, there was a lot more. Tables of vintage toys like Gumby and rebuilt Barbies and GI Joes next to tables of homemade patches and secondhand clothes. Tables of taxidermy with butterfly displays and jewelry made of animal bones and teeth. Tables of pins, stickers, cyberpunk swag, homemade accessories, and crystals.

She caught his arm. "You didn't tell me it was… this."

"Didn't want to ruin the surprise," he said, kissing her.

There were also more women there than she would have expected and while being told her genetic condition was "so metal" when in contrast to her makeup was definitely weird, they were so damn nice and complimentary. They were impressed with her look and took no issue with her skin or her eyes, which she was still regularly told were scary.

She and Eddie wandered the tables, Beck leaving to look at earrings when he got too deep in the weeds with others about the intricacies of a specific song or band with others there. And while she did not personally have a place in her brain for any of the information that he would rattle off, when she watched him in these conversations she felt both warm affection and sharp pain.

He was in his element here. No longer the somewhat awkward, unpredictable "freak" of Hawkins high, he shone as the witty and charming guy she had fallen for. This was who he should be able to be all the goddamned time.

And this was never more obvious than when Eddie had stopped to eyeball a guitar. She had no idea what it was but he seemed awed by it and the seller asked if he played. Then she heard him say that he kind of did.

"The fuck you mean kind of?" she asked, sneaking up behind him and making him jump.

"You want to give it a play?" the seller asked, and without too much pushing Eddie agreed.

After getting used to the feel of the instrument, he busted out that damned solo he had been working on nonstop and nailed the hell out of it. The energy of people watching him was incredible and she now got the appeal of "being in a band." When he finished, he was radiating and again her heart twisted.

Beck promised herself that if they made it through high school together, she was going to make sure he could be this person every single day no matter where that meant they had to go.

Eddie bounded up to her, feeling like his face would split from smiling so hard. He had been ready to die when she and the seller had goaded him into playing but he had killed it and knowing that was always one of the best feelings.

She grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the exit.

"I thought you wanted some of the teeth earrings?" he asked, baffled.

"Oh I do."

"Then where are we going?"

She stopped dead and kissed him so hard his head spun.

"To your van. That was so incredibly hot. Unless you have something else you would rather be doing?"

He heard her laugh as he became the one leading them back out into the parking lot. Punk Flea Market had been a very good idea indeed.

Thank you to those leaving reviews! It means a ton!

Punk Flea Market is something that we have regularly where I live and a lot of the vendors are lifted directly from the times I've been.