after-the-end-times

[after-the-end-times]

[after-the-end-times]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

You Could Have Cut and Run

Prompt Day 10: Shopping | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: Single Dads AU, Meet Cute, On the Hunt for Elusive Holiday Toy of the Year

They have it. They fucking have it.

Steve is fucking thrilled as he reaches down for the very elusive Lego set that was specifically requested for Christmas. He's checked every damn store within twenty miles, even braving Toys "R" Us. And nothing. Just bare shelves. He really didn't know what he was going to do if he couldn't find one. 

It was number one on her list, everything else a distant second.

He had promised, not thinking anything of it. It's a Lego set. He figured he'd be in and out, it in hand, within fifteen minutes.

Oh, how wrong he'd been.

But there one finally is, hidden at the back of the endcap. Steve squats down, pulling it towards himself, only to feel it being tugged on from the other side. He doesn't let go, but peeks to see who he's playing tug-of-war with.

There's a man with long, shaggy hair sticking out from under a stocking cap looking back at him with big, shocked brown eyes.

"Uh…" Steve trails off, and isn't sure what the etiquette is here. He really needs this exact set. It's the one thing his daughter wants.

"Oh, that's a relief, I thought maybe there was a gremlin down there," the guy says and Steve laughs. He was expecting a fight, not jokes.

"This is awkward," Steve says. "I suppose you really have to have this exact set, too?"

The guy nods. Then asks, "Flip for it?"

And Steve nods, agreeing. A fifty-percent chance is better than zero-percent, and he really doesn't want to brawl in the middle of a toy store.

The guy lets go, and comes around to Steve's side of the aisle.

"I kind of thought you might run," he says, and Steve laughs.

"Didn't even think of that. Damn," Steve teases, reaching into his pocket for a quarter.

"I'm Eddie," the guy says, and Steve looks up.

"I'm Steve. For your kid?" Steve asks.

Eddie nods, "I've already been to six stores. This is the only thing she really asked for."

"Same, man. Same," Steve says. "Why is this damn thing so hard to find?"

"I don't know," Eddie admits. "It's not like it's a Tickle Me Elmo."

And Steve laughs, it's definitely not. He's lived through that, and wishes to never do it again.

"How old is your kid?" Eddie asks.

"Nine. A girl," Steve says.

"Mine, too!" Eddie laughs, and it makes Steve smile. Steve moves to flip the coin, but Eddie covers the quarter in his fingers. "Wait. How would you feel about a playdate? So they both can enjoy it?"

Well, sure, why not? 

Steve can't look at another store. He can't.

So, Steve smiles and nods, "Absolutely."

"We're new to town," Eddie says, "a friend might be nice."

Steve's not sure if he's talking about a friend for his daughter, or himself, but Steve would be game for either.

"Same!" Steve says, "We just moved here last month."

They exchange numbers, and flip the coin for who will get possession of the set. It's Steve, and he promises they won't open it until they are all together in one place.

So, it looks like Santa is gonna come early.

A week later, after some back and forth with scheduling, Eddie sits on the brand new couch in Steve's house. Steve's glad it showed up yesterday. Having guests over to an empty house would have been pretty weird. He wants to come off as cool and fun, not a potential serial killer.

Eddie looks over at him, "You know, I kind of thought I'd never hear from you."

Steve crinkles his brow, "Why?"

"You won the coin flip, you could have cut and run."

Steve laughs, goading him, "Is that what you were planning to do?"

"No!" Eddie shouts, a little too loud, and both girls look over at them. They wave them off, letting them know everything is fine, that they can keep playing, keep getting to know one another, as they put together the coveted set.

"Sure, sure," Steve says, and Eddie elbows him. Steve giggles. He likes Eddie. They've texted back-and-forth all week, and as much as it felt like setting up a playdate, it also kind of felt like they were getting to know each other to set up a date-date as well.

Two single dads, two girls the same age.

It's straight sitcom fodder. 

Waiting for the pizza to arrive, Eddie slides his socked feet under Steve's thigh. Steve looks down, and wraps his hand around Eddie's ankle, holding on. Returning the signal, as tame and PG with the little eyes and ears around, as it might be. 

It's weird to say, but this has felt natural, and a little bit fated, from the moment they met. Steve feels at ease with Eddie, like this was all somehow meant to happen. Like they knew each other in another timeline, or something equally implausible. Usually Steve would move slower with introductions, way slower, before entangling his girl in any sort of relationship he starts.

But it feels like she's somehow the one that guided him in Eddie's direction, by sending him on that wild goose chase.

Even, still. He feels like he has to be sure.

But there's a little voice in the back of his head assuring him that he is sure, as dumb as that sounds. They just met. They've spent a couple hours together. That's it.

Eddie pulls him out of his head.

"You know, they aren't gonna get that whole thing put together today," Eddie says.

"Guess we'll have to do this again next weekend," Steve answers, and squeezes Eddie's ankle.

"Won't that be a shame," Eddie teases, and by the grin on Eddie's face, he's definitely down for that. And when he slides his hand on top of Steve's, rubbing his thumb against the back of Steve's hand, Steve is sure of it.

"Definitely a tragedy," Steve banters back, looking forward to seeing where this will go.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[after-the-end-times]

Spin this wheel to receive a transformation potion ^_^

[after-the-end-times]

lover boys 💕

[after-the-end-times]

still believe

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'santa'

all of my holiday drabbles will be from the bear hugs universe. many of them could probably be read standalone, but will make the most sense and be enjoyed best if you read that first!

rated g | 985 words | no cw | tags: established relationship, mall santa, fluff

🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻

The line is wrapped around the building, which is exactly what Steve warned him about.

Steve insisted they go the first week that Santa was at the mall, but Eddie insisted they wait. It didn’t feel right to see Santa before December even started.

Then they got so busy with hockey practices and the baby and-

“How much longer?” Rory asks. She isn’t quite groaning yet, but Eddie knows she doesn’t have much more patience.

Steve is bouncing Sawyer in his arms, raising his brows at Eddie. The I told you so doesn’t need to be said out loud for him to know that’s what he’s thinking.

He tried to time it perfectly between Steve getting off of work, Sawyer’s next feeding time, and their own dinner time, but now…

They’re looking at a catastrophic failure on his part.

Sawyer’s only four months old, and he’s on a very strict schedule. He’s a perfect baby, sleeps almost entirely through the night, only cries when he needs to be changed, and loves when Rory holds him. But if he doesn’t eat on time? Everyone suffers.

They have at least an hour in this line still and they have roughly 20 minutes before Sawyer’s due for a bottle. They have them in the diaper bag, of course, enough formula already measured out for two bottles and a bottle of water just in case.

“Can’t we go to another Santa?” She asks when no one answers her.

“What do you mean? This is the only Santa.” Steve stops bouncing as he speaks, and Eddie feels sweaty all of a sudden. They both thought Rory still believed in Santa. Sure, she was a little old for it, but last year she’d gotten into a fight with a kid at school because she still believed.

“Dad.” Rory gives him one of her be serious looks. “Every mall has one. The real Santa has to stay in the North Pole.”

Steve’s shoulders relax, but Eddie feels another moment of panic. Rory does still believe in Santa. It’s fine, it’s actually great. But a small part of him hoped that maybe she’d just casually stopped believing. Maybe then it would be easier for Steve to accept that their little girl isn’t so little anymore.

“Right,” Steve smiles at her. “But we’re already in line here, so we should just stay.”

Rory sighs, but doesn’t argue.

Sawyer coos in Steve’s arms. Steve smiles down at him and bounces him again.

“You can’t wait to meet Santa, huh buddy?” Steve asks him.

Sawyer’s way too young to understand what he’s asking, but he still gives a gummy smile. He’s got Chrissy’s nose, but it’s a perfect combination with Eddie’s everything else. They all joked that Eddie might as well have carried and birthed him for how much he looks like him already.

“Does Santa already know that Sawyer’s been good?” Rory asks.

“Babies are always on the nice list until they can walk and talk. Then, they have to behave just like all the bigger kids,” Steve explains. “Santa already knows Sawyer’s good.”

“But what if Sawyer was bad?”

“Well, do you think he’s been bad?” Eddie asks, taking Sawyer from Steve to give him a break.

“He did puke on my shirt last week,” Rory’s face twists with disgust. “And he pooped through his diaper that one time and it got on the car seat.”

Eddie’s doing his best not to laugh. “Those are accidents, though. It doesn’t make him a bad kid.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Rory sighs. She looks around the people in front of them as they take a few steps forward. “Maybe we can skip Santa this year? Since he knows we’ve both been good.”

Steve shakes his head. “We wanted to get a family picture, remember?”

“But it’s not even the real Santa!” Rory exclaims, loud enough that the people in front of them turn and scowl at them. Steve sends them an apologetic look and kneels down so he can get on Rory’s level.

“Listen green bean, you remember when you were really little and thought this was the real Santa?” She nods. “A lot of these kids still think that and we can’t ruin it for them. Plus, they’re handing out candy canes, look!”

One of the employees dressed as an elf is walking down the line offering candy canes. A perfect distraction for kids growing impatient in line.

Sawyer gurgles and then lets out a tiny whine. Eddie checks the time on the phone and gives Steve a look.

Steve wordlessly opens the diaper bag to get the bottle ready and Rory rocks on her feet as she waits for the elf to bring her a candy cane. Eddie pokes at Sawyer’s cheek, and his tummy, and his arm, making him let out little bursts of noises that are nearly giggles.

“Not too much longer,” Eddie whispers to the baby in his arms, hopeful that he’s right.

****

Nearly an hour later, they have Sawyer propped in Santa’s lap and Rory standing next to him, talking a mile a minute about her list. They manage to get a great picture– a small miracle considering Sawyer was due for a nap– and head out, not wanting to hold up the line more than it already has been.

As they leave, Rory tugs on Eddie’s jacket and comes to a stop. Steve is too busy babbling at Sawyer to notice.

“Daddy, I lied,” she says and Eddie’s gut clenches. “I know Santa isn’t real. But dad loves Christmas and it would hurt his feelings. And now Sawyer can believe in Santa so I have to pretend.”

Eddie loves this girl. She has always been wise beyond her years, which is why her believing in Santa at this age seemed ludicrous to him.

He hugs her tight and kisses the top of her head. “You’re a good kid, little one.”

[after-the-end-times]

It's the 69 on the helmet that really makes it art

[after-the-end-times]

some eddie hairstyles, the braids are my favorite 🖤

[after-the-end-times]

[after-the-end-times]

Ted Lasso x Trent Crimm for FTH2024

[after-the-end-times]

🎄 Steddie Christmas 🎄

Steve deals with getting older by realizing he wants to be a Santa and Eddie is just along for the ride

It starts when Steve blows out his back with a sneeze.

“Babe, you're fine. This is life, we get older and we stop working like we used to,” Eddie says.

“I’m dying,” Steve says dramatically. Eddie rolls his eyes as he rubs his back. “I'm one step closer to death. Buy me a coffin, I'm basically useless.”

“You're thirty-three,” Eddie deadpans.

Steve spends the rest of his week having a mid-midlife crisis, calling Robin for support because nobody else seems to understand. Well, Robin doesn't either but she makes him feel a little better about it.

“Why don't you start working out again? You used to be really fit in high school,” she suggests.

Steve looks down at himself, wondering when he let himself get so out of shape.

“Oh God,” Robin says, “I can hear you thinking. This is going to become a thing. Just forget what I said, you look fine-”

Steve gets a gym membership.

First, he runs. Then, he makes some friends and starts lifting. Next thing he knew, he was in a Pilates class working on his flexibility, which Eddie appreciates very much.

He feels pretty great about himself and attributes his aches and pains to the price of sticking to the gym. Max makes fun of him when she catches him flexing but he doesn't even care, because he's a little proud of his progress. Eddie thinks it's stupid when he starts tracking his food, but comes up with wacky recipes to get in that extra protein.

Then, on one horrible day, Dustin walks downstairs and says, “is that a gray hair?”

The room goes silent. Robin sends him a dirty look.

“No fucking way, Henderson. It's got to be a trick of the light,” he says, as he rushes to the bathroom. He makes Eddie angle a hand mirror into the wall mirror so he can see the back of his own head and gasps with horror when he sees that not only is Dustin correct, but his hair is also thinning.

The horror.

Dustin tries to backpedal, but it's too late. Pandora's Box has been opened. Steve has begun to lose his personal war against aging.

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking God, Ed, is that a bald spot!?”

Eddie looks closely, and says carefully, “I think it's always looked like that.”

“WHAT!?”

“I mean, no! I think. I don't know!”

“You look at me every day and you don't know if I'm balding!?”

“You look as hot as ever!” Eddie says.

HairGate leads to all sorts of products piling up on the bathroom counter. Steve stops wearing hats, because he's heard that they can mess with your hairline. Eddie puts his foot down when he wants those prenatal vitamins that are supposed to help promote hair growth because, “Steve, you're not pregnant.”

This is a dumb reason in Steve's eyes but he agrees because he doesn't want Robin to find them and tease him about it. He keeps working out, adding to his routine. Lathers himself in lotion and sunscreen, because he thinks the crows feet in the corners of his eyes are a little too prominent.

When he's forty-five, his parents die. He gets the call about his dad on an already shitty weekend and the next about his mother three months later. Their funeral is difficult. Eddie holds his hand the whole way through, and Steve takes in his husband's gray hairs and how they won't be able to stick together forever, like they'd promised. The stress of it all makes him drop the gym. He tries to start up again but it's shockingly difficult after such a short break that he leaves, embarrassed with an ache in his left knee. Robin stays with them for a bit, and he wonders what he would do without her. How the pain of losing either of them would probably take him like it took his mother.

He decides to grow out his beard. Maybe change can be good.

On his fiftieth birthday, the party walks around him on eggshells, like he's about to lose it. Logically, he knows he's being ridiculous. He can't *not* age. He has to deal with his own sense of mortality eventually. But he just doesn't want to. He, maybe ridiculously, finds it unfair that he's stuck in a body that doesn't work like it used to. That he looks in the mirror and feels like time flew by without a warning. That the fragility of life feels more prominent than ever.

He's cutting the cake when Lucas and Max’s youngest, a baby with lovely dark curls, points at Steve and says, “Santa?”

The room goes quiet.

“Laura, that's Uncle Steve!” Lucas says with the kind of embarrassed laugh a parent gives when their kid does something stupid. Steve looks down at himself. He's wearing a red sweater. His stomach is a little pudgy since giving up the gym. He knows his hair has turned into whatever the equivalent of salt and pepper is for brunettes, but his beard was always prone to more grays than the rest of him. He looks at little Laura’s smile, and how excited she seems.

“Isn't that her first word?” he asks.

“Uh,” Lucas says.

“Oh my God, Laura! Your first word! Santa Steve!” Max cackles.

Steve reaches his arms out to hold Laura and smiles wickedly, a tinge of pride in his chest when she giggles and grabs at his face.

“HA!” he says, “she likes me more!”

“Of course she does, you're the guy who lets her do whatever she wants,” Lucas grumbles. But he's smiling and so is everyone else.

The idea sticks in Steve's head. He and Eddie go to the mall that Christmas to browse presents and they always do, and Steve watches the Mall Santa for a moment longer than necessary. Eddie ducks into a store and he's walking over to the guy dressed as an elf before he can even think about it.

“Uh, you have to wait in line,” the guy says.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to ask, how much does being a Santa pay?”

The guy looks a little surprised.

“I'm not sure, but it's definitely above minimum wage. It's a seasonal thing and kind of hard to do, so they definitely get paid more than the elves,” he said with a little laugh.

“Really? It's hard? Don't you just have to talk to kids all day?”

Steve's a teacher and he volunteers at the community center. He's very accustomed to talking to children. Kind of an expert in it, really.

“Oh, no way dude. Chris speaks three languages and knows sign language,” he says, gesturing to the Santa with a thumb, “you have to have the laugh, the beard, and you have to go to Santa school-”

“Santa school?” Steve interrupts.

“Yeah, it's actually pretty competitive.”

Steve wonders for a moment if he's being pranked. Then, he spots Eddie waiting for him behind the massive line of children, looking confused.

“Isn't that cool?” Steve asks, a little excited.

“Standing in line to take pictures?” Eddie asks.

“No, babe, look how happy the kids are. It's so sweet! And the guy who plays Santa is super qualified. I had no idea that they had to go to school for it. Did you know that?”

“Wow, that's pretty intense,” Eddie says.

Steve watches Chris the Santa bring a smile to the face of everyone he looks at, and wonders.

“Steve? Are you ok?” Eddie asks.

“I want to do that,” Steve says. “I want to be that.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie looks completely bewildered. But Steve feels like he’s had an epiphany.

“I want to be a Santa when I get old! I could be the kind of Santa that visits kids in the hospital or the kids at the community center, since they don't get to go to the mall that much. I could be the kind of Santa that makes people happy anywhere!”

“Wait so let me get this straight. You want to have white hair and stuff?” Eddie asks.

“I mean, it is inevitable,” Steve says with a shrug, like he hasn't been fighting exactly that for the last two decades.

“That's great! I love it! I could get out my old drag stuff and be your Ms. Clause,” Eddie says, but he looks like he's hesitating over something. After a moment, he turns back to the store he'd just been at.

“Where are you going?” Steve asks.

“Returning your Christmas present, since you've completely flipped your priorities about ageing,” Eddie says. Steve grabs his hand and pulls him to stop.

“Listen, I said it was inevitable. Not that it had to happen right away,” Steve mutters, and Eddie laughs. Maybe there's something to look forward to when he gets old after all.

[after-the-end-times]

12 Days of Steddie-Mas

Day 3:

I’ll be home on the 23rd

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Waiting by the phone, Steve watched the TV broadcast of the show. Corroded Coffin had completely blown up in the last year. They managed to get one song on the radio and it seems like the stations just can't turn them off. Their small venue tour had to quickly be upgraded to arenas and more dates added. They've sold out every show. Steve couldn’t be more proud of Eddie, this is everything he’s ever dreamed of. He does miss him, of course he does. Steve had prepared for three months apart, so when it turned into six months and then nine, he was just a bit shocked. Eddie had promised to call every night and he has yet to break this promise. Sometimes they are short and sweet, usually when STeve has to be at the school early the next morning. Other times they last for hours, Eddie so full of adrenaline that he just spews out anything he thinks about, and Steve is just happy to listen.

About a month ago Eddie called to strike a deal.

“Stevie baby,” He drawled into the phone hesitantly.

Steve sighed into his end, “Eds, don’t start like that.”

“I just want to get the bad stuff out of the way!”

“What happened?”

“They want us to do a live show on Thanksgiving”

“And?” Steve presses, knowing there’s always more.

“And— a live show right before Christmas.”

“Ed—”

“But I have a deal for you!” Eddie interrupts, trying to smooth the situation.

“What is it?”

“We do the shows, but I'm home by the 24th and stay through New Years. The last show is in February, so after that we are doing nothing, for a whole year Stevie.”

This piqued Steve’s interest, “A whole year? You sure you wouldn’t get bored?”

“Jeff and Gareth both agreed, we all need a fucking break. We want a year just to be normal again,” Eddie sighs, “It’s not like we won't write music or hang out or have small jam sessions together, there’s just no pressure to do it. I want to be with you sweetheart, I hate waking up and not seeing you there next to me.”

Steve smiles into the phone, “Well I’ll never complain about seeing you, but I don’t want you to give this up.”

”We’re not stopping, it's just— a pause, a moment to fucking breathe.”

“So the 24th?” Steve checks.

“The 24th.” Eddie confirms.

“See then, Eds.”

“See you soon, baby.”

So here’s he was, December 22nd, watching his rockstar boyfriend shread on stage. He smiles as Eddie jumps aroun the stage, messing with Gareth and Jeff, showmanship on full blast.

The rockstar leans into the mic, “For our last song, as always, I’m going to dedicate this to the love of my life,” he says looking directly into the camera, “Be home soon baby.”

The crowd erupts.

Gareth leans into his own mic, “Awe, Eddie you sap.”

Jeff joins in on the teasing, “Eddie, stop over compensating, everyone knows they love me more than you.”

Eddie laughs and shakes his head, “You two are impossible to work with.” He starts playing the opening notes as the crowd roars.

He wrote the song years ago for Steve. When they finally got a record deal, it was the only song Eddie really cared about making it on the record.

“I want the whole world to know how much I love you.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re mine for life sweetheart.”

Everytime he hears the crowd singing along it brings tears to his eyes. He’s seen couples dance to it at weddings, getting proposed to it during concerts, making cute videos to it. Love speaks to all. He loves how their love is so fully on display. Even though Steve has asked Eddie to keep his name and identity a secret to the public, that doesn’t stop him from constantly talking about how much he loves Steve at every chance he gets.

Eddipe wraps the concert up waving goodbye to the crowd, “Happy Holidays everyone! See you in January!”

Not more than an hour later Steve’s phone starts to ring.

“Hey there Rockstar,” Steve says into the receiver.

“Hey there lover,” Eddie yells through the line.

Steve yanks the phone away from his ear at the volume, “Jesus, Eddie, no need to scream,” he scolds half heartedly.

“I’m just happy to talk to you,” Eddie says now in a normal volume.

“I’m happy to talk to you too.”

“Excited to see you in two days.”

“Well I’m excited to see Gareth more,” Steve teases.

Eddie huffs, “Yeah right, I know I’m your favorite, even if you won’t admit it.”

They talk for a bit. Steve goes on about how crazy all the kids were on the last day of school. How his usual go to was a Christmas movie day, but he wanted to be different this year. So he set up games and crafts and music. And now he has a headache. Note to self, stick with the movies next year. Eddie talks about how Steve works too hard, which Steve shoots right back at him. They both work themselves to the bone, but there is nothing in the world either of them would rather do. It just feels harder when they are apart. Steve asks what Eddie wants as his welcome home dinner and of course it was something dirty that cannot be repeated.

Steve yawns into the phone sometime around one in the morning.

“I’ll let you get to bed baby, see you in a few days,” Eddie says softly.

“Love you, Eds.”

“Love you more, Stevie.”

———————————

The next day Steve cleaned the whole house top to bottom, every corner and nook and cranny. He scrubbed and whipped and washed until there was nothing left to polish in the house. His excitement kept him running and he needed an outlet. After the house was sparkling he wrapped the last of the presents. Steve wanted Eddie to come home to a perfect house. Even though he would go through it like a tornado, Steve didn’t care that it would get ruined immediately. He needed to keep his mind busy. Otherwise he would pace around the house just counting the seconds till Eddie came home.

Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie.

His brain repeats on a loop. There was no way he could actually be productive outside of the house, so he stayed inside and perfected their home.

The doorbell rings and Steve thinks it's probably just a package with one of the last few gifts he ordered. He doesn’t get up to check, he’ll just get it later.

There’s a knock on the door a moment later. Once again he ignores it, thinking the delivery man is just double checking before leaving it on the porch.

The knocking gets louder and more aggressive. Not stopping. Just continuous knocks right after another. This gets Steve to finally get up and walk to the front door. Normally he would check the peep hole to check who it is first, but the knocking distracted him.

Steve threw open the door, “Who—” he cuts himself off.

There in front of him was Eddie, bags in hand, snow sticking to his messy hair, and a coy smirk on his face.

“Sorry, Stevie, I left my keys last time I was here and it's freezing,” Eddie says standing there.

Steve looks to the front entrance table. There in the bowl sits Eddie’s set of keys on a cheesy keychain they got in Chicago when they visited a few years ago. He looks back to his boyfriend in disbelief.

Eddie adjusts the bags on his shoulders, “Can I come in, or are we just going to stand here till I get frostbite?” he jokes.

Everything clicks for Steve at that moment. Eddie was here. In the flesh. For the first time in months.

Steve grabbed Eddie by his coat and pulled him in the house. He connects their mouths as he pins Eddie to the door. His boyfriend comes willingly and drops all his bags to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling them closer together. Steve’s fingers wrap themselves in Eddie’s curls desperately trying to deepen their kiss. Their hot breath fogs around them in the lingering cold air.

“You’re early,” Steve says, breaking for a breath.

Eddie moves to Steve’s neck, coating the skin in hot touches, “Surprise,” he whispers into Steve’s ear. He wraps his hands under Steve’s thighs and lifts him up.

Steve wraps his legs around Eddie and plants kisses across his boyfriends whole face. Cheek to cheek, the bridge of his nose, his chin and forehead, and especially his mouth that tasted like the usual cigarettes and coffee.

Eddie carries them the stairs towards their room.

“WAIT!” Steve gasps as he remembers all the gifts he left all over the place in there, ones that Eddie cannot see before Christmas.

He scrambles out of Eddie’s arms and runs to the room, “Give me a second to hide everything!”

Eddie knows not to argue, and not to snoop. Steve takes Christmas very seriously and will not stand for gifts to be spoiled.

Steve runs around the room, shoving things in drawers and under the bed and in the closet. Once he is satisfied with everything being out of sight he opens the bedroom door, “Welcome home, baby,” he says waving his hand towards their bed.

Eddie is on him again in a second, closing the door once again behind them. Although that did little to muffle their sounds. Not that there was anyone else in the house to hear them anyway.

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Day: 1 2 3

Happy Day Three!!!!!

Sorry this took a second, I got like ridiculously buys over this past week and did not have the time to write like I initially planned for! This one is just a bit of cutesy to warm y’all’s harts <3 Nothing explicit… yet. Stay tuned and all that.

Thank you for reading! It means the world to me that people are enjoying all this!

[after-the-end-times]

A prince about to be king, still mourning his long lost love, and a stable boy turned vengeful knight trying to return to his prince 🗡️👑

Still so obsessed with this AU and missing it being all over my twt 😔

[after-the-end-times]

In The Same Boat

G | Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson + Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham | TW: Period Typical Homophobia | Tags : pre-season 3

My take on “what if Eddie was caught loitering around Scoops A’Hoy trying to sneak a peak, by one Chrissy Cunningham… only to realize she was here for the same reason he was. And that maybe the Freak And The Cheerleader aren’t so different after all.”

———

Eddie drummed his fingertips on the table. Lifted his hand and looked at it with vague distain… Eugh. Sticky. He was sat in the StarCourt Food Court. And has been for kind of a while. His big pretzel and slushie long since disappeared.

He checked his watch slyly. Ok, it’s been like 3 minutes.

He stretched his arms out over the back of the bench and very, oh so casually angled his head back towards Scoops A’Hoy.

He’s just… people watching ok?

Eddie raised an eyebrow as he checked out the sweet, sweet thighs on display as Steve Harrington wiped down one of the tables in the store.

Person watching.

Look, it’s… it’s not… Ok, Eddie doesn’t have any good excuse for this. He’s really only camped out here like this a few times. But summer started recently and StarCourt opened just in time for school to let out. Obviously he had to come check out this effigy to American corporate prosperity for himself. If only to bask in the air conditioning.

But those shorts man. Those shorts…

And now he’s bending down to pick up a napkin? That’s the real money shot. Eddie tilted his head back slightly. Should be on the cover of PlayGirl is where that should be.

Alright that’s long enough. He turned back to look down at the surface of the table. Next time he’s gonna bring a book. Or like a magazine.

Not that there’s gonna be a next time but - Alright, fine! Now that Harrington’s graduated, Eddie no longer has the luxury of leering on him in gym. And Harrington looks good in shorts. Really good. That’s not Eddie’s fault, is it?

God. The guys would laugh their dicks off if they knew he was here, creeping on the King. Eddie’s been telling them since freaking sophomore year, ‘No!, I do not have a crush on Steve stupid Harrington. That would be ridiculous!’

And you wanna know what they always tell Eddie?

‘What? Dude, what are you on about - no one even mentioned Harrington?’

Ok. Slight crush. Tiny crush. Literally barely even registers on the rictor scale of attraction.

Yeeeeeah….. They’d piss themselves laughing if they found out he’d fallen so far.

Eddie just thinks he’s hot. Is that a crime?

Well, ok, it’s not anymore in the state of Indiana.

And if it was - then he’s a criminal in desperate need of rehabilitation.

Ok, it’s probably been long enough. He looked back over the short lind of foliage towards Scoops and Steve’s behind the counter chatting with his co-worker. She looks super familiar. Like, so familiar. Eddie can’t place it but she definitely went to school with them.

God, that stupid asshole is so pretty when he laughs. Like an angel. A stupid asshole angel that Eddie wants to lick ice cream off of.

And looking away now.

He casually scanned the food court, because honestly not trying to look like a stalker when you absolutely are is teeth grindingly boring.

Wait a minute…. The family of four at the table booth in front of him is leaving. And in the booth directly behind them is… Chrissy? Chrissy Cunningham.

She’s got her head turned and she’s gazing through Scoop’s window too. And Eddie has a feeling it’s not ice cream she’s yearning for. Not with that delicate blush…

Ah. He thinks. Must be the ol’ Harrington charm.

Chrissy turned away and her eyes went wide when she saw Eddie looking. He gave her a small nod, they do vaguely know each other after all. They’ve shared a few classes. School talent show and everything.

Annnnnd she immediately whipped her head down, averting her eyes.

Eddie frowned. Figures.

He slunk a little lower in his seat and resumed drumming on the table. He was so focused on not looking at Chrissy he didn’t notice she was standing right next to him until she cleared her throat.

Eddie startled, swearing.

Chrissy Cunningham was now standing at the head of the table, looking down at him. She gave a shy little wave.

“I - hi.”

“Uh. Hi.” He said dubiously.

“Sorry, you caught me off guard there earlier. I didn’t mean to be rude.” Crazy thing is, she really sounds like she means it. Her voice is soft and shy and kind. And she’s nervously fiddling with her hands.

“No, no. I get it.”

“Get uh - ?” She scrunched up her brow, not following.

“Come on. I’m The Freak, yeah? No worries.” He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Chrissy frowned.

“I - That’s not what I was…”

“Hey, it’s cool. It’s cool, I get it.”

Chrissy only frowns all the harder.

“I think it’s messed up,” she said, quietly. “The way the guys at school talk to you.”

“You mean your boyfriend?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He’s not trying to be confrontational, it’s just kind of a habit.

“Oh. Me and Jason broke up.”

“Oh.” Eddie said, the corner of his mouth turning down slightly, but not that apologetic. “I’m sorry.” He said anyways.

“Don’t be.” Chrissy said, “I - uh. I broke up with him.”

“Well, then con-gra-dulations for dropping that basketball case.”

Chrissy giggled a little.

“It’s uh, you’re… “

“Eddie.”

“Right. I’m Chriss-“

“-sy Cunningham.” He finished for her again. He gave her a neutral smile. “I know.”

He doesn’t live under a rock.

She smiled back brightly.

Then went ahead and sat down in the seat across from him. Which certainly has him raising an eyebrow.

“Soooo…” he’s not really sure what to talk about, now that she’s not walking away and forgetting he exists. “Uh. Why’d you break up with him?”

Chrissy shrugged, drawing her finger tip on the table.

“Guess I’ve been thinking a lot lately. Realizing stuff about myself. And realizing I didn’t really like the person Jason was. How he and all my other friends treat people who are different. It’s not - it’s not right.”

“Is that what you’re doing here all alone?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. Usually Chrissy’s surrounded by Jason and his back up singers or at least the other girls from the cheerleading squad.

“Yeah…” She said sadly. Then she shook out her ponytail and straightened her shoulders. She put on a smile. “And I’ve been uh - I’ve been trying to make new friends…”

“Ah.” Eddie smiled back, relaxing into his seat.

“What about you? You have all your friends from the club.”

“Hellfire.”

Chrissy nodded though not out of recognition.

Eddie shook his head, waving a hand. “Off busy today.”

“It’s the third time I’ve seen you sitting, right here, all by yourself.” She said, tilting her head.

“Oh, uh, I…”. Eddie blushes. Then his eyes narrow. “Wait, third time you’ve… What were you doing hanging around the food court, huh?”

Chrissy opened her mouth but didn’t say anything at all.

“Realized some stuff about yourself, huh?” He said crossing his arms, nodding at Scoops.

And now Chrissy’s blushing. Eddie grinned ruefully. Couldn’t exactly blame the girl.

“Yeah. You know, I’ve heard no one can resist that Harrington charm…”

Chrissy made a face, corners of her mouth downturned. She looked away. “Uh. Yeah. I… yeah.” She said, nodding anyways.

“Happens to the best of us.” Eddie shrugged. He would know.

“Well, what about you?” Chrissy said, changing the subject.

“What about me what?” Eddie shrugged, maybe purposefully obtuse.

“Every time I’m here I’ve seen you staring too.” She nodded at Scoops too. She looked at Eddie, biting her lip and raising her eyebrows like she’s got him now.

“Well - I… like to keep up to date on their specials.”

“From behind a row of plants.”

Eddie gave a confident nod.

“No… No, I think we’re both in the same banana boat sunday.” She giggled, very gently teasing.

“What.” Eddie sat up, shoulders tensing maybe a little defensively.

“Come on, it’s just a crush.”

“I don’t… “ Eddie shook his head. Looked away clearing his throat. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She’s pretty…” Chrissy said. Eddie glanced up and Chrissy had her chin in her hand and was staring through the window. Watching the two sailors man their posts against a wave of incoming customers.

“Oh. I, uh - yeah.” Whew. “She is.”

Chrissy had this far, away look on her face. But Eddie was kind of busy wiping the sweat off his neck from that one. He looked down at the floor, raising his eyebrows in a moment of relief.

“I’ve only talked to her a few times…” Chrissy said. Eddie turned back watch her mouth twist up. “She seems really cool. We were all three of us in band together last year.”

Where they? Shit. Eddie doesn’t remember. Band was always right after lunch period and he was running those scales ludicrously, no - impressively high.

“Right. Yup.”

“I used to play flute. The clarinet section was right next to us. Is band where you two met?”

“Me and…“ Shit, shit what was her name shit.

“Robin?” Chrissy said, squinting.

“Right! Yes, me and Robin! Yeah, I totally saw her in band.”

Chrissy pressed her mouth together and tilted her head.

“Super pretty.” He nodded unrelentingly. “And cool.”

“Well. You’ve got good taste…”

“Can’t say the same about you.” Eddie said, maybe a lot self deprecatingly. Chrissy gave him a questioning look.

“I mean, if you broke up with Jason cause you think he’s a dick… Harrington’s not much better.” He sat back against the bench pressing his feet flat to the floor. He crossed his arms again.

Chrissy looked up and squinted, as if trying to recall something.

“I - I dunno. He always seemed… fine. Kind of quiet. Jason only joined the team last year but I remember… I remember him and the rest of the guys used to give Steve a lot of trouble too.”

“Really?”

Chrissy pressed her lips together. “I think it had something to do with Billy Hargrove?”

Eddie nodded understandingly. Yeah, he’d also heard tell that the King had been dethroned. Though, he was far too much an outsider to be privy to the high court’s tittering.

“He’s not a lot like his reputation makes him out to be.” She shrugged a shoulder. Eddie looked back towards Scoops. Towards the beautiful man with his beautiful hair. Eddie kind of preferred to think of his as some meat-headed jock he could jerk off to to forget about him. It’s easier, if he’s unattainable because Eddie thinks he’s insufferable. Rather than because, ya know, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson would never have a chance in hell.

“I dunno. I never talked to him much.” She finished thoughtfully.

“Well…” Because Eddie was thinking now. Oh this could be good. No way was he going into His Majesty’s territory without backup (alone, looking like a loser). And no fucking way Eddie’d bring his friends. (They’d take one look at Steve’s outfit and so would start the teasing that Eddie probably thinks it only makes him hotter - and the worse part is they’d be right).

But. He had company now. It’s a win-win really!

“You feeling peckish?”

[after-the-end-times]

𝟙𝕤𝕥   ⏮〘 𝟙𝟞 〙⏭ 

Eddie keeps his eyes fixed on the doorway, wanting to take full advantage of the improved vision that his monstrous transformation grants him.

The moment that the familiar form of Arlene crosses over the threshold, he feels the way his pupils dilate to immediately start taking in more information. Steve’s dam is followed closely by a man—he’s more than familiar with the scruffy countenance of Doctor Owens at this point—and another male figure that nearly has him doing a double take. Eddie blinks, his brow furrowing in confusion, because Chief Hopper just walked into the room, Joyce Byers only a step behind him. He’s not confused about the man being alive, but that he’s here in Steve’s house. He’s vaguely aware in a disconnected, nearly tangential way of the pseudo father-son bond Steve shares with Hawkins’ resident Daddy Cop, but he hadn’t known that Arlene was also familiar with the man. Just when he’s sure he’s reached his shock threshold for the day, his breath catches as the next person to walk through the doorway steps into his line of sight.

What the hell is— what’s uncle Wayne doing here?

His gaze snaps away from the gathering crowd below his perch with the heavy, warm weight of the palm that splays across his back. His eyes follow the path of the appendage to find Steve staring at him from where he’s kneeling within the cloak of shadows, only a hint of hazel visible in his eyes from the minuscule amount of light that reaches him. Steve mouths the words “you okay?” to Eddie, concern evident in every inch of his body language: nearly audible even in the absence of sound. The tension drains out of Eddie like water down a suddenly unclogged drain, and he sways into Steve’s space seeking more of that grounding warmth the younger man seems to exude in spades. Pressed closer to Steve’s side, the other man wraps his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, eradicating any space between them. He hums a pleased sound below human register as Steve holds him close, soft lips brushing tenderly against the skin behind Eddie’s ear; he leaves lingering kisses while an answering rumble in his chest vibrates at a frequency that feels like home to Eddie’s tumultuous instincts. He melts against Steve, helpless to do anything else. 

: ̗̀➛ read the full chapter on AO3 shout out to adornedwithlight for the line divider + reblog banner

[after-the-end-times]

"But why is he here all the time," he whines to Robin. She doesn't like him much, but Scoops is empty, and what else is he supposed to do? Not speak to her at all?

"Why do you care what Eddie Munson is doing at the mall."

"I don't care." He scoffs, rolls his eyes. "He's just always here. Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Do you?"

"He doesn't work here."

"Haven't seen you doing a lot of work here, Steve."

"You spent forty minutes yesterday drawing on your sneakers."

She shakes her head, but doesn't say anything because he's right and she knows it.

He goes back to staring at Munson, sitting on the edge of the fountain. He's relaxed back, legs spread, looking like he owns the place. The way he's leaning, his t-shirt rides up, showing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin and the lightest dusting of hair. He doesn't remember his mouth being so dry before.

"You're such an idiot." Robin smacks herself down beside him. "Eddie's a good guy. Is this just because he's the freak and you're King Steve?"

"No!" He says it too loud, a few people in the foodcourt turn to stare. "I'm not that guy anymore. That's all just--" he flaps his hand, can't find the words.

She makes a disbelieving noise, eyes narrow. "I'll never forgive you if you hurt him."

Robin stomps off to the backroom before he can stop her, tell her he doesn't want to hurt Munson.

One of Eddie's friends says something that has Eddie stretching back to hear, pulling his shirt higher, flashing the dark line of a tattoo, and that's too much, that has him slamming his eyes closed, rubbing at his brow but all he can think is--

cold cinder block at his back, hot mouths and fumbling hands and long, deft fingers; desperate, bitten off moans; hands fisted into long curls; the hot, bittersweet taste of him

It was only a handful of times, quick encounters in the locker room, once under the bleachers in the gym. And Steve, he'd never--it didn't mean anything, but it meant everything, and Eddie's been all he can think of for months.

A group of middle school girls comes in, then, and he forgets about Munson as he scoops ice cream and blends milkshakes. The next time he looks to the fountain, Eddie is gone

---

Steve cleans up the remnants of a dropped milkshake at the store entrance, and his shorts are a little too tight, okay, he can feel the way they pull around his hips when he bends too much, but he has to clean the tile before the rush starts and customers complain. There's one spot, though, it's already dried, has to really put his back into it.

The food court is crowded by the time he finishes, bustling with customers. He turns to grab the bucket, and stops dead in his tracks. Munson sits on one of the built-in planters directly behind him. He was staring at Steve's polyester clad ass, but now his eyes travel up Steve's body, getting darker with desire as they go.

He's trapped in place by the force of Eddie's gaze, by the want there. They stare at each other in silence, Steve's blood thumping a vigorous rhythm.

The moment breaks when Robin's voice, calling his name, catches his attention. He turns back to his work without a word, but inside he's reeling.

---

Steve's opening alone, comes out from the back, and there Eddie is, lounging on the fountain rim with a magazine in hand. It's been a couple of days since he's been around, not since the incident. He watches as Munson languidly flips through the pages, seeming not to have a care in the world, and he--

Well, he's never really had to wait around for something he wants.

He stalks over to the fountain, stops when the tips of his sneakers touch the toes of Eddie's boots. And, yeah, he's in his dorky sailor outfit, but Munson didn't seem to mind the other day. Steve thinks maybe he likes it.

"Munson," he says. His hands are on his hips.

Eddie looks up, slow, taking Steve in. He leans back further, crosses his legs at the ankle. "Harrington."

They stare at each other. Steve starts biting his lip. Not as a move--he's nervous, suddenly, that all of this is a waste and Eddie isn't interested--but Munson's gaze hooks on his mouth, lingers, like a warm caress.

Steve's never initiated things between them before, isn't sure if it's working. He takes the chance, though, starts walking away.

He crosses through the seating area, past the counter, into the back, doesn't know for sure if Eddie is following until the door doesn't close right away behind him.

There's a single beat of a second where they watch each other and neither moves, before Eddie is on him, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him into the wall.

"What the fuck is this, Harrington, huh?" They're close enough for their noses to touch. "You ignore me for months and now--"

"You're here all the fucking time," he snaps back. "Sitting in the same spot like you own the place."

"So, I'm not allowed to be at the mall now?" Eddie sneers. "God forbid I'm in sight of the king."

Steve tries to pull away. "That's not what this is, and you know it."

"Then what is it, Stevie? Spell it out for me real slow to make sure I understand." He leans in, a little, and Steve stops breathing.

Eddie's lips brush his, a gentle press that isn't quite a kiss, not yet. His knees go weak, the wall at his back the only thing holding him up, but the kiss doesn't deepen. Instead, Eddie steps back, laughs. "You think I'm this easy, sweetheart? That you can lure me with your little sailor costume and I'll come without a fight?"

"Am I wrong?"

Eddie scoffs, turns his head, and Steve thinks he overplayed it, that his misread everything.

"Fuck you, Harrington." Eddie grabs him, then, hands fisting into his sailor shirt. "Fuck you and this stupid, sexy outfit. Fuck you for knowing this would work on me."

His mouth presses against Steve's throat, and he moans, clinging to Eddie's jacket.

"Listen to you, sweetheart," Eddie murmurs. "Making all those desperate, pathetic sounds for me. Almost like you missed me or something."

"I did." He groans as Eddie's mouth moves along his jaw. "Missed you so much, haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

Eddie sinks his teeth into Steve's cheek, and he has to stifle his shout. He's harder than he can remember ever being before, thinks he could come just from the feel of Eddie's teeth in his skin.

"That's not what you told Billy," Eddie says. "When he almost caught us."

"I didn't want him to hurt you," he gasps. "I--I didn't want him to have a reason."

Eddie pulls away, Steve grasping after him. "I can handle Hargrove."

"He hit me in the head with a plate." Steve points to the small scar on his forehead. "That's how I got that concussion last year."

"Oh," Eddie blinks. He cards his fingers through Steve's hair, pulling it out of the way to see the scar better. "Sweetheart. I thought--" he swallows, throat working. "I--I keep coming here to see you. I wanted--"

His hand falls to Steve's neck, drawing him in. For a second, Steve thinks it's another tease, but Eddie does kiss him this time. It's deep, desperate, so thorough he thinks Eddie's memorizing the taste of him. He doesn't want it to ever stop, not for a second.

Outside, someone starts hammering on the counter bell, shouting for service.

They slip apart, Eddie still gently cradling the back of Steve's neck. "Come over tonight?" Eddie's eyes are so dark, wanting, he could drown in them.

"Yes." Because there is no other answer.

He lets Eddie out the back door just as Robin yells from the front, "Harrington! We have a customer! I haven't clocked in yet!"

"Be right there," he yells back, but not fast enough that she doesn't catch a glimpse of Eddie slipping out.

She whirls to him, brow in an angry furrow. "Steve! I told you not to hurt him!"

He can't stop his smile. "Buckley, I promise you, Munson can take care of himself."

[after-the-end-times]

can you get enough of me? 🗯️

available as a print here!

[after-the-end-times]

Eddie Munson's royal wedding

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 21

Prompt: Formal

Rated: M

Tags: Modern AU; Rock star Eddie; Royal Steve; Established relationship; Sexually explicit language

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

“Okay,” Eddie says. The crowd outside the toned windows of the limousine has been getting thicker, which means they must be there soon. “Lemme get this straight again.” 

Steve, seated opposite him and looking both stupidly at ease and infuriatingly handsome in his tailored suit, chuckles.

“You’re talking about your tie, right? Because you’ve been tugging on it again.” 

Eddie groans and attempts to right the dreaded thing. It feels like trying to strangle himself. 

“Very funny, you asshole,” he grouses, but Steve doesn’t rise to the insult, just continues to observe his struggle with fond amusement. “I'm talking about this wedding. Why do we need to- … I mean, how are you related to these people again?” 

“Here, let me,” Steve mutters, leaning over and swatting Eddie’s hands away so that he can straighten the tie for him. “You know my cousin?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie says. “The Duchess of What’s Her Face. Met her at a fundraiser once. Major bitch, please don’t tell me it's her getting married.” 

“No, that’s my father’s niece,” Steve laughs, markedly not correcting him on the major bitch part. “This is my mother’s side of the family.” 

“Ah, the banker and entrepreneur side,” Eddie says. He tries to fiddle with his rings, but they’ve made him leave most of them at home. “Much better.”

“Hey,” Steve says. “Try to look at it from the positive side. You won’t have to remember any titles. There'll probably also be less cameras.” 

Silence drops. The car slows down as they pass another security checkpoint. 

“Hey,” Steve says. His hands settle on Eddie’s shoulders, featherlight and familiar. “Hey, look at me.” 

Eddie does. 

“You don't have to do this,” Steve says. His eyes are serious, his brow furrowed. “I can get out of this car alone and tell the driver to bring you home, and nobody will need to see you like this.” 

“Wow,” Eddie scoffs. “You can tell you've been trained in diplomacy. That's the nicest way anyone has ever told me I looked like shit.” 

Steve drops a chaste kiss to his lips, just as the car stops. “I never said that. I know it's not your favorite type of event, though. Or your favorite type of people. I don't ever want to force you into-” 

“Hey,” Eddie interrupts him. “You're not forcing me. I chose this. I chose you. And for the record, I know I look fantastic in this thing.” 

Steve hums, a low sound that settles heavy in Eddie’s abdomen. The driver’s door shuts and steps approach. An excited chorus of voices swells outside. The goddamn press, eager to catch a photo of him making a complete ass of himself on his first royal engagement. 

“You know when you'll look even better?” 

Eddie flinches back to attention. “Huh?” 

The door swings open. A storm of flashing cameras breaks loose.

Steve smiles, bright and professional. His voice is so low Eddie needs to strain to catch it. 

“When we get back to the hotel and I take it off you.” 

*

“There he is!”

Eddie turns to see the bride swooshing towards him in a flurry of white skirts, her new husband trailing on her heel like an eager puppy. He casts a nervous glance over his left shoulder, then one over his right, but Steve is nowhere to be seen. 

“Eddie Munson,” the bride says, coming to a stop in front of him and taking a generous sip of her champagne. “The rock star who bagged the crown prince. Every eligible person in this room either wants to be you or kill you, you know that?” 

“Yeah well,” Eddie says, taking in the mean curl of her mouth and the sharp glint in her eyes. “Good thing you're not eligible anymore, I guess.”

Her face twitches and her hand grips the glass a little tighter. 

“Carol,” says her husband, smile sharp. “Don't tease him. He must have it hard enough. The backlash from his fans, the media claiming that this is just a rebellious phase Steve is going to grow out of soon. I imagine it can't be easy.” 

“Ah, you know how the press are,” Eddie says. “Better not to listen to them. Steve and I are in this for the long haul. We're planning on making it work.” 

The bride quirks a brow. “Well, good luck with making that white dress work at your wedding.” 

And Eddie wanted to behave, he really did, but what can he do when served a cue like this?

“Bold to assume I'll be the one wearing the dress.” 

Silence drops. The bride and groom gape at him. A scandalized murmur runs through the assembled bystanders, and fuck, when did they gain an audience?

“Um,” Eddie says. “Listen, that was-”

“There you are!” Steve exclaims, materializing out of nowhere and taking him gently by the shoulder. “Tommy, Carol, I'm so sorry, but we need to get going. Early start tomorrow, you know how it is. Beautiful wedding, congrats again.” 

And then Eddie’s being pulled out the doors and into the venue's lush garden, past a crowd of gawking wedding guests. 

“I can't believe you said that.” 

Eddie is already drawing a breath to apologize, but then it dawns on him that it's not rage that's making Steve’s voice shake. It's laughter. Steve's hand, against all rules of propriety and protocol, has slipped into his. 

“Told you I'd be a disaster at this,” he shrugs, and Steve snorts. 

“Ah, they deserved it. We can deal with the fallout tomorrow.” 

“Oh?” Eddie smirks as the limousine rolls to a stop before them and the driver jumps out to open the door for them. “Is this the part where you take me to the hotel and-”

“Oh no,” Steve says, and pulls him inside. His eyes are sparkling. “Change of plans. You're fucking me in the car.” 

And who's Eddie to disregard a royal order? 

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