The party had started innocent enough.

Graduation banners hung crooked across the living room, someone’s mom’s old record player blasting music way too loud for the hour, red cups stacking up on every flat surface like evidence of bad decisions. Eddie Munson had been everywhere at once—laughing, yelling, crowd-surfing his way through congratulations like he hadn’t spent the last four years being told he wouldn’t make it.

By the time Steve noticed Eddie was gone, the party had already tipped from celebration into something looser. Wilder.

“Has anyone seen Munson?” Steve asked, squinting around the room.

Dustin shrugged, already tipsy. “He was here like… five minutes ago?”

Mike frowned. “He doesn’t just leave his own party.”

Lucas crossed his arms. “Yeah, he does. When he finds something better to do.”

That earned him a look.

They exchanged glances—the unspoken we should probably check kind—and made their way down the hallway, weaving past bodies sprawled on couches and couples arguing over nothing important.

The music dulled as they moved farther from the living room. A door at the end of the hall was closed. That alone was suspicious.

Steve knocked once. Sharp. Loud.

Nothing.

He tried the handle.

The door opened.

And immediately—

Chaos.

Sheets tangled and half-fallen off the bed. Someone’s bare back to the door, skin flushed, shoulders moving in a way that made every single one of them register, simultaneously, that they had made a terrible mistake. Eddie’s voice—Eddie’s voice—low, wrecked, making sounds none of them were ever meant to hear.

Dustin gasped. Mike yelped. Lucas froze.

Steve slammed the door shut so hard the frame rattled.

They stood there in stunned silence.

“…Oh my god,” Dustin whispered.

Mike stared at the door like it might explode. “I didn’t know he could—make those noises.”

“I didn’t know he had game,” Lucas muttered, disturbed.

Inside, there was frantic movement. A thud. A curse.

The door cracked open again and Eddie Munson appeared, shirt missing, hair wild, face flushed so red it looked painful. He clutched the doorframe like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“What the hell is wrong with you guys?” he hissed.

Steve opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “We—uh—we were looking for you.”

Eddie glanced over his shoulder, panic flickering across his face before he straightened, clearly torn between embarrassment and wanting very badly to get back to what he’d been doing.

“Yeah?” he said. “Well. You found me.”

From behind him, a voice—yours—soft, amused, entirely unbothered. “Everything okay?”

Eddie winced. “No.”

You shifted, sheets rustling, still mostly hidden but very obviously there. The guys collectively tried not to look and failed anyway. A glimpse of skin. A flash of a shoulder. Eddie’s hand instinctively reaching back, grounding himself against you.

Steve cleared his throat. “We’ll—uh—we’ll wait in the kitchen.”

“Or outside,” Mike added quickly.

“Forever,” Dustin said.

Eddie exhaled hard, rubbing a hand down his face. “Jesus Christ. I graduate once and suddenly I can’t get five minutes of peace.”

You laughed quietly behind him, warm and unmistakably fond. Eddie glanced back at you, irritation melting into something softer, more dangerous.

“Give me a sec,” he murmured to you, conflicted.

Then he looked back at them, eyes sharp. “Knock next time.”

The door shut again.