#corroded coffin boys

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember and @steddiesongfics.

No Loose Ends

Week #3 Prompt: Sneaking Around | Word Count: 6500 | Rating: E | POV: Steve | CW: Post S4, Sexual Content, Underage Recreational Alcohol and Weed Use | Tags: Eddie Munson Lives, Florida!!!, Hiding Out, Healing, Steve & The Boys of Corroded Coffin Taking Care of Eddie, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson

Song inspiration to fill the @steddiesongfics prompt is FLORIDA!!! by Taylor Swift feat. Florence & The Machine:

Little did you know, Your home's really only the town you'll get arrested, So you pack your life away, Just to wait out the shitstorm back in Texas Indiana

Steve's almost eight hours into the twelve hour drive, when he starts looking for another gas station. The smaller the better. One with a cashier who would rather be anywhere else other than at work behind the counter, and who in turn, won't be paying any attention to anything going on around them.

Not that he's wanted, or being looked for, because he's not. He's just being extra careful. Trying to garner no additional eyes on his car, or himself, if possible. No speeding, no rolling through stop signs. He's never driven this carefully in his entire life, and he feels tense from it.

It gives him a glimpse of what it might be like, sometime in the future, if he's in charge of hauling around six of his own little nuggets.

But that's not today. Today he's just in charge of one, well two, other people.

And himself. But he's used to being in charge of himself, since he has been, since basically forever.

If everything goes smoothly tonight, nobody's even gonna realize he's been out of town. Only Robin knows, and she's running interference with everybody else. Giving excuses for why they haven't seen him all day. Just buying him the time to get down, and back, without being missed.

The next filling station is a little raggedy, but exactly what he wants. Probably no cameras. Perfect.

He parks alongside the pump, and pulls up on the handle, starting to fill his tank. He looks in the backseat, and the bundled up figure moves under the blanket, shifting. It's dark under the poorly-lit canopy, three of the six fluorescent bulbs are out, and it makes it look just a little bit spooky. But even better, unless you were looking for him, you'd never see the slightly moving lump in the backseat.

And nobody's looking for him. Not anymore.

Thank fucking god.

Steve pays for the gas, and grabs drinks. Back in the car, he puts his own Coke in the cup holder, then lays the Mountain Dew in the backseat floorboard for when Eddie wakes up, and finally slides the Dr. Pepper into the passenger side cup holder.

He doesn't know Gareth Jones, not really, and it has taken everything he has to trust him. But Eddie couldn't be left alone, not yet, and Steve had asked who could they trust, and Gareth had been Eddie's answer.

Now he's asleep, head against the window, and Steve pulls back out onto the two-lane road, and keeps heading south.

They pull up in the driveway of the dark house, and Steve kills the engine.

"We're here," he says, and Eddie stirs in the backseat.

Eddie can barely walk. Once they've gotten him out of the car, he can only shuffle along, blanket over his shoulders. Together, they hold him up on both sides. The sand surrounding the beach house is not making it easier for him to move, Steve can tell. Steve has to try three keys before the door swings open, but they get him inside. Steve's not satisfied until Eddie's on the couch of his grandparent's vacation home in Destin, the city they swear is gonna become a tourist hot spot in the coming years.

So, the elder Harringtons scooped up a waterfront home that they only use once or twice a year, swearing it's an investment they'll be able to turn a profit on in the future. Steve doesn't care about that, but he is glad they have it right now, so they have a place Eddie can lay low. 

It's a little musty from being shut-up, but it'll do. 

Especially since there's no chance anybody in his family will turn up, since they're all in Europe right now without him. That left it just sitting empty, the perfect place to stash Eddie long enough to wait out the shitstorm back in Indiana.

Nobody knows he survived. Not the public, and barely any of their friends. Not even Wayne. Not yet. It's easier to keep a secret when you don't know the truth, as guilty as that makes Steve feel. 

But right now, he can't dwell on that. Today, Steve's gonna try to get him holed up in here, and then figure out a more permanent solution once Eddie's back on his feet. 

He can't dwell on the rest of them, or his guilt will eat him alive. Knowing Wayne's mourning his nephew. Knowing that Dustin is going through hell. Steve hopes they'll both forgive him, when the truth comes out. Eddie swears Wayne will. Says he'll understand. Says he'll only be relieved that Eddie's safe, and well. 

Steve hopes that's true. 

He knows he'll be in for an ass-chewing from Dustin, but that's nothing new. He can handle that.

Steve gets Eddie situated. A blanket. Some pillows. A drink. All while Gareth looks around the house, snooping, and it sets Steve on edge. He's a kid. Is he really gonna trust a kid to keep Eddie safe? Alive? He supposes he is. It's not like he has any other choice.

Gareth's older than Steve was when he got involved in the Upside Down. But still. Kid.

Steve can't stay long. He takes a nap, and then gets back on the road before he's missed. Back in his bed in Hawkins before anyone has started asking any real questions that Robin can't deflect.

A week later, when Steve steps out of his front door, Pop Tart in his mouth, he nearly chokes when he sees two guys leaning against his car. Jeff and…the other one. Steve's drawing a blank. They're Eddie's friends, but as far as Steve knew, they'd evacuated with the rest of the town. 

Out of the way, not a concern. But, here they are.

People are starting to come back, Steve's noticed, now that the town is rebuilding after the earthquake damage. If they have houses to return to, lots of them are doing just that.

He should have expected this.

Well, not this. Because they shouldn't know Eddie's alive or that Steve might be a person to talk to about anything.

"Uh, hey?" Steve says as he pulls the dry pastry out of his mouth, trying to chew it up, and buy himself some time.

"Where's Gareth?" the one that isn't Jeff asks. 

"Um, Gareth who?" Steve asks.

Jeff laughs, showing a mouth full of braces. 

"Gareth Jones. He's not with his mom, and she thinks he's with you."

Steve tenses. That little shit. Gareth told his mom the truth? What the fuck? For real. That wasn't the plan. At all. 

What a dumbass kid. He can't believe he has to trust him with Eddie's safety. Clearly, he's doing a bang-up job.

Steve looks around, "Don't see him, do you?" Steve asks, sliding back into his King Steve persona easier than he'd imagine he'd be able to after a few years.

"Harrington," Jeff says. 

"He's not with me," Steve says, which is true. "I don't even know him." Also true. 

"If you have Eddie. If he's out there somewhere, you're gonna take us to him," the other one says. Goldie? Steve thinks his name is Goldie. Goldwin, maybe? Gareth was talking, and he's sure he mentioned him, but Gareth talked a lot. Steve zoned out. 

"Or we're going to the cops."

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He doesn't actually think they'll do that, but fuck, what does he know? He cannot risk that. He'd rather tell them what he knows, than have any officials poking holes in their story.

He makes a decision, one he hopes he won't regret.

"Okay, Goldie, get in," Steve says, resigned to this, but Jeff laughs loudly, mouth open as the guy who is probably not Goldie by his reaction, jabs Jeff in the ribs with his elbow.

"Goodie," Jeff corrects, "but that was closer than most get."

In the car, Steve squeezes the steering wheel. 

"Where is he?" Jeff asks. 

"Florida," Steve answers.

"Florida?" Goodie demands, and Steve just nods.

"He's healing. Gareth's with him. You can't tell anyone," Steve stresses. "If the government finds out. They'll, well. Dispose of him, I reckon. No loose ends."

And Steve starts from the beginning.

They worked out a schedule. Every week they'll switch. And somehow Steve is stuck making the long fucking haul in the dead of night, with one of them in his passenger seat. It's awkward. He doesn't know them, and they definitely don't like him.

This week it's Jeff Williams. Honestly, he's nice enough, but Steve runs out of things to say before they hit the Indiana state line.

The long haul back has Gareth jabbering nonstop about what they did this week. All Steve really wants to hear is updates on Eddie. Is he getting better? Are his wounds healing? Still no infection? Did you help him change the bandages he can't reach? Can he climb the stairs yet?

But he's having trouble getting those answers. He does learn all about the new Accept album, though. Whoever the fuck that is.

The third week is even worse, because hauling around Goodie Goodwin is like having an angry bear locked in the car with him. A brown bear, not a black one. He's fucking pissed, and snarky, and only belligerently agreeing to help for Eddie's sake. Not for Steve's. He's made that abundantly clear. 

He hates Steve, in case Steve needs it spelled out for him. 

Steve does not. 

It's definitely clear.

Super duper clear.

Crystal clear.

And that's fine. Eddie just needs a babysitter, and an angry bear will do, so long as Eddie trusts said bear, and he seems to, for whatever reason.

When they fucking finally pull up, after a twelve hour drive that felt more like twenty-four, Eddie's sitting on the covered porch, the color finally seeping back in his face. Goodie sits down in the glider right next to Eddie, and steals Eddie's lit cigarette right from his mouth. Eddie leans against his shoulder, face pressed into his very weather inappropriate leather jacket, and smiles.

Oh, so now he's a gentle giant. 

Fucking dickhead.

Hauling Jeff back to Hawkins is a breath of fresh air after twelve hours of having Chernabog in the passenger seat. And he actually gives helpful information. Eddie's doing great. He's made some real progress, and he probably doesn't need a babysitter much longer. He's getting out of the woods.

Steve wishes he knew that before he had to spend time in the car with Goodie, but it's still good news, even if Steve had to suffer.

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay alone this week?" Steve asks, and he doesn't know what he'll do if the answer is no. Leave Goodie for a second week of duty? Stay himself?

"I'm fine, Harrington," Eddie promises, and Steve nods.

"Okay, then. I'll be back next weekend," Steve assures.

Steve worries about Eddie being alone the whole next week, and it's a long drive by himself, but not as long as it was with Goodie refusing to make even the smallest of small talk. 

Goodie didn't say a word for the eight hundred miles back to Hawkins.

Honestly, it was actually an improvement from the ride down.

When Steve pulls up the house, Eddie's on the porch again, and Steve wonders if this is where he spends most of his time. There don't seem to be any neighbors here right now close enough to see him, and even if there were, they wouldn't know the Harringtons well enough to be sure Eddie didn't belong. 

"Harrington," Eddie says, foot pushing slowly, keeping himself in a soft sway on the porch glider.

Steve sits down next to him, and then Eddie keeps them moving, the breeze coming through the porch, and not feeling bad at all. 

"Ocean air is healing, you know," Eddie says as if he's serious, and Steve smiles.

"Is the gulf considered an ocean?" Steve asks.

And Eddie just shrugs and grins back, shaking another pack of cigarettes out of the fresh carton Steve brought him. Steve feels like a pack mule, hauling food and smokes and beer, back and forth across several states.

"Closest thing I've ever seen to one, at least," Eddie says, and Steve has the fleeting thought that someday, Steve will change that. 

He doesn't know why. They aren't really friends or anything. Just two people that were thrown together to fight back against evil. They don't exactly have a whole hell of a lot in common beyond that.

They get into the beer, and Eddie pulls out a joint. It's fun, and relaxing, honestly. Doing a whole lot of nothing. It feels like a mini vacation, and like Steve's settled for the first time in weeks, months. So, he stays an extra day, and then another, because they're having so much fun. Robin will cover for him. She will. But he's really gotta go in the morning. 

"Your friend Goodie hates me," Steve says. 

"All bark, no bite," Eddie laughs. 

Steve doesn't know about that. He seemed pretty nippy to him. 

The next week, he brings the decks of cards Eddie had asked for, and now they sit around the round table on the porch, and play hand after hand, going through a case of beer and cigarette after cigarette. It's fun, and unexpected, and Steve's pretty sure next week, he's gonna find a way to stay longer. 

He's tipsy, they both are, as they stumble up the stairs towards their rooms. He's got his hands on Eddie, the excuse that he's helping him not fall, but he's pretty sure that's not the whole reason.

He doesn't examine it too much.

They're just having fun, and that's a nice change of pace from the shitshow that Hawkins has been over the past few years.

He wants to stay. 

As his head hits the pillow, and he rolls over onto his belly, he tries to devise a plan to make that happen, even as he's drifting.

The kids aren't happy about it when he says he's going to be traveling with his parents for a while, and they'd really be pissed if they knew that he was actually sneaking back to Florida to hole up with a very much still alive Eddie Munson. 

He's gonna have to pay for lying about this, to a lot of people that really love Eddie. Steve knows it. But, he'd do it again. Eddie's safe. He's healing up. Every week he's been more mobile, more agile, more…Eddie.

Sure, it's not as if Steve knew him well before all this. But they went to school together. He knows what Eddie Munson is all about, and it's definitely not being quietly introverted on a couch.

When he gets there, he lugs in his huge suitcase, and takes back over the empty room across the hall from the one Eddie's been staying in. 

And then they spend their time laying on the beach, or getting drunk, or stoned, as Eddie's body slowly finishes stitching itself back together. He still aches, and so does Steve, but it's not too bad anymore. There are no more bandaids, ointments or creams. No more antibiotics. They hurt, sure, but they're getting by better now.

Eddie wants to venture into the water, and with no open wounds, Steve can't find a reason to say no. Eddie had had to watch from the porch that first week as Gareth ran across the sand, wading out into the water.

Now, it's his turn. 

Steve by his side, making sure he's okay. Strong enough. They didn't go through all this just for Eddie to drown.

Steve's getting concerned that he can't quit touching Eddie, but Eddie doesn't seem interested in making him stop.

They're wet, and wrapped in towels, but it feels inevitable when Steve pushes Eddie towards the bathroom, and into the shower. Inevitable when he turns to leave, and Eddie snags his hand, pulling him back towards the tub. Inevitable as he washes his body, trying to not only ignore his own half-hard dick, but Eddie's too.

It's still inevitable as he slips on his clean underwear, and crawls into Eddie's bed instead of his own, and finally presses their lips together. 

Eddie kisses back, and hands roam across bare skin. Eddie's fingers trailing his back, making Steve squeeze his eyes shut. He didn't realize how long it's been since someone touched him like that.

Neither of them take it further than that, but they do find themselves, lips kiss-swollen and laying together, breathing heavily in the quiet of the room, and Steve doesn't even know how they've gotten to this point.

One day Eddie was just some guy, then he was wanted on trumped up murder charges, and now, well, this.

"What's the plan? I can't stay here forever," Eddie says into the darkness, and Steve thinks maybe he could. They both could. They'd be safer that way. Hawkins can fuck off. It's their hometown, but not home anymore. Just a place that would arrest Eddie and throw away the key, given half the chance. 

"We could," Steve says, and Eddie meets his eyes.

"You know you can't. And your grandparents will turn up eventually, and be less than thrilled to see me here."

"They won't be back until winter, and even that's iffy," Steve reassures, more himself than Eddie, he's pretty sure.

They could sneak around for months, until the snow birds fly south, and nobody would know. 

That's all Steve thinks about as he falls asleep, Eddie's arm slung over his stomach.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Steve jerks, sitting bolt upright in bed. Eddie doesn't even stir beside him.

Gareth Jones is standing at the foot of the bed, and Jeff and Goodie are in the doorway. Steve's heart is hammering in his chest. There's no explaining this away as anything other than exactly what it is. Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"Eddie," Steve says, nudging him with his elbow. Eddie still doesn't budge, but his foot is sticking out of the comforter, and Gareth runs his knuckle up Eddie's bare sole.

Eddie's awake then, jerking his whole leg backwards.

"Jesus H. Christ, kid!" Eddie screeches, pulling the sheet up to his neck as if he's trying to protect his precious modesty. It's fucking endearing. 

Terrifying, but endearing.

Steve must be staring at Gareth, because the kid shrugs, "He was late to school. A lot. Wayne asked me to start getting him there before he was a fifth year senior from tardies alone. The bottom of the foot is foolproof."

And Steve's hammering heart slows, just a little. Nobody is screaming, there's no fight breaking out. Nobody's being called names. He's not sure how to take this. They've been caught in bed, but nobody is really reacting to that. 

It's just a best friend explaining how to get Eddie awake. Robin would know how to do that for him, too.

"What are you doing here?" Steve finally asks. 

"We thought we'd come give you a break," Jeff says from the doorway. 

"Doesn't look like you want it though," Goodie adds, and it's the nicest thing he's ever said to Steve, Steve's pretty sure.

"Our parents think we're at a band camp," Gareth adds, "before school starts back up for me."

"Band camp," Eddie laughs, flopping back against the pillows, "Go wait downstairs."

And they listen. 

Steve just lays there next to him, finally saying, "Well."

Eddie laughs, then turns to face Steve, "They knew about me. I mean, the theory of me. It's not like I was getting any action. From boys or girls. But they're cool. Freaks gather together."

Steve chuckles, but Eddie keeps talking, "I'm sorry they know about you without you okaying it first, though."

It's fine. Honestly. Like, if they aren't gonna kick his ass? Everything's fine. Sneaking around always ends this way. Steve knows it. You always get caught by someone. He just didn't predict it to be so soon, or here.

"How'd they even get in here?" Steve asks, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He's pretty sure he locked the door when they went to bed.

"That's probably my bad. I taught Goodie to pick locks."

"Another Munson family trick?" Steve asks, pulling his jeans on, sliding up the zipper.

"Yep," Eddie answers, "the school would sometimes forget to leave the room unlocked for us to have Hellfire. So, I taught him to open it, since I have a bit of a tendency to run late."

Steve laughs, pulling his shirt over his head.

"Regret it now, though," Eddie says dryly, and Steve holds open the bedroom door for him.

Gareth and Goodie are sitting around the kitchen table, already helping themselves to the beer they found in the fridge. Cards dealt. Waiting.

Jeff's cooking a massive skillet of eggs and there's toast piled high on a plate.

Beer and eggs. That's something. Breakfast of champions.

"You can fuck him, but Eddie is my card partner," Gareth says, pushing a waiting hand of cards towards Eddie.

Fair enough.

Steve snags a plate, and is more interested in eating than cards, anyway.

"We can't have set partners with five of us," Jeff says. "It's just gotta happen as the game unfolds."

Gareth starts to argue, and it's like they totally moved on from what they all saw upstairs. Steve feels off-kilter, but he takes another bite of toast.

Maybe these guys are Eddie's version of Robin. That's the only thing that makes any sense. 

Steve picks up his cards, and starts organizing them in his hand. He isn't even sure what they're playing, but he guesses he'll figure it out. There were lots of card parties in the Harrington household growing up. He probably knows whatever they're gonna throw at him, as long as it isn't something they've straight made up.

Which is possible, he's sure, knowing Eddie.

But that's about the extent of the discussion about what they walked in on earlier. 

Jeff turns over a card.

"Eldest, auction is in your hands," Jeff says, and Eddie looks down at his cards.

"Order it up," Eddie says, eating eggs and playing at the same time.

"Trumped up, just like your murder charges," Goodie says, and everybody laughs. 

"That doesn't even make sense," Jeff says.

"You just wanted to say it," Gareth adds, and Goodie takes his needling pretty damn well, all things considered.

And Steve smiles, happy that this is something they can all joke and laugh about. That as fucking terrible as it all was, is, that they can still make light of it to cope.

That's not nothing. That Eddie wasn't lost to it. That he's here to be gently ribbed. That his friends believe in his innocence, totally.

Eddie names his card, and Gareth plays it, becoming Eddie's partner. 

They continue to play, and things do not go Gareth's way, which Goodie seems to be enjoying.

And later, Goodie smirks, "I'm in the barn."

Gareth heaves a big sigh, "Damn. I'm gonna get skunked." 

And everybody laughs at his misfortune.

They stay. Camp out in all the rooms in the house, staking their claim. And it's actually a lot of fun. Like a high school house party that just doesn't end in a fist fight on the lawn. Steve hasn't been this relaxed since, well, before. Before 1983. Before monsters and the Upside Down came crashing into his life. 

He embraces this break, this chance to just be. He's not a kid anymore. Not in age, and definitely not in life experience. 

He lays on the beach, catching a tan.

These couple of weeks have felt as close to a vacation as he's gotten in years, and he lets the worry of the past slide off his back. 

Steve supplies the beer, Goodie has a few pre-rolls left, so they smoke, drink, and play cards. Steve watches them fight over the stereo, and he learns to recognize the new Accept album by ear with time. 

They swim, except for Goodie, because apparently he's scared of gators. Even if they tell him that the gulf isn't a swamp, and the chances of him being taken down by a gator are extremely unlikely. Not impossible, gators gonna gate, but it's not like it's super plausible. 

Goodie doesn't care. He's not doing it, and says no amount of peer pressure will work on him. So, he sits on the porch, beer on his knee. Cigarette in hand. 

So much for him being big and bad, Steve thinks. 

Today, girls have suddenly appeared down the beach. Screaming and laughing, and they all watch them intently. Taking in the bikinis. The bouncing boobies. Not one of them above watching a free show. 

They have a volleyball that comes bouncing in their direction, leading the girls to finally notice them and approach. Apparently Steve's the only one with a working voice, though. He learns there are a pair of sisters staying in their grandparents' beach house with their friends. One last hurrah before going back to, or for a couple of the girls starting, college. 

University of Nebraska. Go, Cornhuskers. Apparently.

Since Steve's the only one engaging like a normal human, they're paying extra attention to him. One in particular. And she's cute. But he politely rebuffed her attention the best he could, and then watched Eddie do the same.

Goodie builds a little bonfire, and Steve is kind of impressed. He doesn't even know where he got the wood at. 

Of course, Steve was less impressed when he was sent off for the stuff to make s'mores.

Eddie followed him, and as nervous as Steve is any time Eddie pokes his head out of the house, it's probably fine. Honestly. They are so far from Hawkins. 

Eddie does wait in the car at the grocery store, but then digs through the bag to see what Steve bought. 

Graham crackers, chocolate bars and marshmallows. Steve's not sure what else Eddie expected, honestly. It's s'mores.

By the time they get back, one of the girls has taken a shine to Gareth, and now Steve and Eddie are watching him blush and blunder through what Steve thinks could be considered flirting, maybe. 

It's honestly a good show. 

For some reason, she isn't put off by Gareth's awkwardness, and later that night, with the window to his room open, Steve can hear Gareth talking to her down below on the porch. 

He's not as bad as Steve once thought, none of them are.

Just like Eddie.

Steve should have realized that earlier, he's pretty sure. First impressions are almost never right about anyone.

And their partying continues, just now there are girls involved. The group, growing. 

Goodie's suddenly not as scared of gators, apparently. Because there's a girl on his back out in the water. 

Steve sees Gareth dip under the water, and knows where this is going, and sure enough, he must snag Goodie's foot, which causes a commotion. 

Steve misses Robin. He sits there considering if there's any way he could get Mrs. Buckley to let her join them, but can't think of an excuse that would seem plausible. Unless Robin also wants to go to fake band camp, too.

Steve's lounging on the steps, leaned back, his elbows braced against the wood. Watching from behind his sunglasses. 

Gareth sits next to him. 

Two of the girls are hitting around a volleyball. Bouncing along the sand. 

"Boobies," Steve says. 

"Boobies," Gareth echoes, then laughs. 

They sit and watch a few seconds longer, then Gareth says, "Eddie doesn't have those, you know." 

"I know," Steve answers. "I like both. I'm okay with that. Are you?" 

"Yeah. Eddie does too," Gareth says, then turns and looks at Steve fully. 

Steve turns to see what he's doing. 

"Thanks. For saving him. I know we've been kinda shitty at times, but we owe you." 

They don't owe him anything, but he still teases, "Don't worry. Someday I'll collect." 

Gareth slaps him on the shoulder, and then inserts himself in the volleyball game down below.

The next morning, Steve's shaving at the sink, bathroom door open, when Gareth appears in the doorway. 

Then says nothing. 

Steve keeps shaving, waiting to see what this is. Finally asking, "Eddie okay?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, he's fine. Um, I have a question." 

Steve meets his eyes in the mirror. Still waiting.

"Do you have a condom I can borrow?" 

Steve grins, "Maybe. But not borrow. I definitely don't want it back."

Gareth rolls his eyes, "Very funny. Eddie told me to ask you. I regret that decision, now." 

Steve reaches over and gets his bathroom bag, and tosses it to Gareth, "Help yourself."

"Thanks," Gareth says, as he digs through it, finding what he was looking for. And then takes the whole box. Little shit.

But Steve lets him. He'd rather Gareth have more than he needs, instead of less. Steve can buy more. He's not embarrassed at all. 

"Play safe," Steve says as Gareth tosses his bag back, it thumping against Steve's bare chest.

Gareth doesn't come home that night, and by mid-afternoon the next day and still no sight of him, Eddie is sending Steve down to check on him. 

He's fine. Just laying on the couch in the girls' house, hand up the shirt of the petite, blonde one. 

"Check in with Eddie later," Steve says, startling him. "You know how he worries." 

Gareth laughs, and gives Steve a little salute and then a dismissive shooing away motion. 

Another girl is at the top of the staircase, and lifts the hem of her shirt, flashing him. 

"If only I wasn't already spoken for, sweetheart," he says, holding his hands to his heart, as if he's wounded by this admission. 

And she's laughing, and seems charmed, not offended, which is what he'd hoped for. He hasn't made anything official with Eddie, and they have definitely cooled their jets since Eddie's friends arrived, even if they all know. 

Steve walks down the sand, and Eddie is waiting on the porch.

"Well?" Eddie asks.

"I saw some tits," Steve says, sitting down next to him, "and Gareth's fine."

Eddie laughs, and briefly slides his hand through Steve's arm, squeezing his elbow.

In no time at all, the girls are packing up their cars, and Gareth is acting like he's about to become a war widow. 

Steve gets it. He does. Your first, you don't forget. But this should have been a little summer fling for him, not a pending broken heart. 

It's not like Gareth doesn't have to go soon, too. Labor day is quickly approaching.

Gareth is pretty pissed off that summer has slipped away, and now he has to go back to school. One more year. The youngest. Without him, they could probably stay indefinitely. 

And he's very unhappy about that fact.

But, he's made it his life's mission to make it clear to all of them that while he has to go back to high school for another year, at least he's not a virgin anymore. 

They're all sick of hearing it, and Steve's grateful it isn't gonna be him stuck in the car for twelve hours with him this time.

Eddie has given Gareth very explicit, detailed instructions on how to run Hellfire. How to keep it going for the other sheepies. Sure, the name will likely have to be changed. It's far too tainted now. And they might even if they have to do it in private, away from that godforsaken school, but Eddie wants that to happen, if need be.

A few days later, it's their turn to leave, and they're dragging feet, Gareth especially. 

"Are you ever coming home?" Gareth asks Eddie, standing next to his mom's borrowed minivan.

Eddie looks at Steve, and Steve doesn't have the heart to answer that. 

But no. Eddie's probably not.

Alone, once again, Steve follows Eddie up the staircase, his hand resting in the small of his back. As if Eddie still needs help with his balance. He doesn't, but Steve wants to touch him, nonetheless.

Steve watches as Eddie pulls his shirt over his head. He's gotten a bit of a tan while his friends were here, and he looks healthier, finally. Steve's hands find his bare skin, squeezing his sides. Eddie laughs, hair falling into his face. 

And Steve wants. 

He kisses him like he means it, then pulls back. During his last beer run, he'd done some other stocking up as well. He pulls the plastic sack out of the nightstand. New boxes of condoms and K-Y jelly. He shakes them out onto the bed.

"You wanna?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks at them, cheeks going a little red, but he nods.

There's a little confusion on the expectations here, but Steve rolls over onto his belly. This is what he wants. He's never had it, but he wants it, anyway.

"I've never, have you ever?" Eddie asks, holding the tube in hand, flipping the cap open and shut, over and over again.

Steve shakes his head, "No."

There's a learning curve. It's kinda steep, but at least they can laugh about it. They can figure it out together, and now that Eddie's finally got two fingers in him, Steve thinks they're finally getting somewhere. 

It's an odd feeling, honestly. He isn't sure what he feels about it, other than full.

But he's gonna ride this out. See where it goes.

Now up on his knees, the blunt head of Eddie's cock is definitely bigger than his fingers, and Steve hangs his head down between his shoulders, and sucks in a sharp breath.

Eddie stills, "You still okay?"

There's a hand on Steve's ass, and he focuses on that point of contact. Like everything is in that warm touch, and nowhere else.

"It's a lot," Steve admits. Because it is.

"Want me to stop?" Eddie asks, his other hand now trailing up Steve's spine.

"No. No. Just, more lube, I think. And go slow," which Steve knows is an ask. He's pretty sure Eddie's barely been moving at all.

Eddie slides out, and now Steve feels left open, and missing something. It's so fucking weird. There's more lube, and more fingers, and even more lube. Steve feels it dripping out of him, he's pretty sure. 

But then Eddie's pressing in again, and it seems to go a little easier. He feels the head of his cock pop past his rim, right into him, and he groans, fisting at the sheets underneath him. It's good, and the rest of the slide feels easier.

Eddie eventually stills.

"You all in?" Steve asks. He's not sure what he'll do if there's more.

"Fuck, yes," Eddie answers, and then Steve can feels his fingertips brushing along his hole as it's stretched around his cock, buried deep inside. "Look at you."

Steve can't do that, but wishes he could.

"You good?" Eddie asks.

Yeah. Steve thinks he's good, "Yeah. Yeah. You can move. Slow. Go slow. But fuck me."

And Eddie does. It's a little hesitant, and uneven, but he draws back, and then slides deep again. And again. Until he's found a nice rhythm. Steve feels insane, and whiny, and so fucking needy. 

He didn't expect how much he'd enjoy this. He kinda just thought he'd be taking one for the team.

Fuck that. He's taking this for himself. Happily, greedily.

It doesn't last long. Steve knows how that goes. The first time you slide into a body that's allowing, welcoming, you inside. It's overwhelming, and feels good in a way you can't even begin to expect.

Eddie shoves deep one more time, and comes with a noise that is nearly enough to send Steve over the edge, untouched. 

When he pulls out, Steve feels empty. Cracked open, and then Eddie rolls him over onto his back, slick hand finding his cock, eyes locked straight on Steve's, and Steve melts into it. He looks at Eddie. Into his dark eyes, his hand gripping Eddie's scarred waist, holding on.

It's a firm slide up, and back down, and Steve can feel his orgasm building. And when he tenses and comes, splattering his own belly and chest, he feels so fucking good. Eddie eventually lets go, cleans him up, and then curls into his side.

Fingers dancing along his skin, and Steve suspects, going from mole to mole.

He's gonna fall in love with him, hell, probably already has.

"We gotta do something. Make a plan. We can't stay hidden here forever," Eddie eventually says, and Steve squeezes his eyes shut. "Even if I want to."

Steve knows. He knows that's true.

"Okay. I'll figure it out."

Steve paces on the porch, worried. He eyes the nailbat leaning against the railing, waiting, in case he needs it. He's scared he's made a mistake. Scared that it's gonna be helicopters, spotlights, and a whole fucking army decending on them.

It's not.

It's Dr. Sam Owens. Alone, with a briefcase.

Two hours later, Eddie Munson has a whole new identity, and a small tote bag of cash. A payout Steve hadn't even known to ask for, but Owens had brought as a peace offering to keep Eddie quiet if he'll just slink off and not expose all their secrets. 

Wayne's paperwork is on the counter, if he wants it. 

Jeff and Goodie are bringing Wayne out next week. That's the plan anyway. If they can lure him into the car. 

Eddie can't return to Hawkins with his new identity, but he can leave the beach house. Can leave Florida. He can go anywhere he wants, now.

Dr. Owens is descending the steps, nearly onto the sand, when Steve hurries out onto the porch. 

"Hey, wait!"

Dr. Owens turns around, and Steve suddenly isn't sure what to say.

"Yes?"

"Um. What would it take, to get me that kind of paperwork?"

Owens smirks, just a little, and reaches into his briefcase, pulling out a manilla envelope. 

Steve takes it.

"How did you know?" Steve asks.

"I've had eyes on you from the moment you ferreted him out of Hawkins."

Steve swallows. Nods.

Looks down at the envelope he's gripping tight. He could disappear, too. If he wants. He'd have to find some way to loop in Robin, of course, but he could just…go. 

Wherever Eddie wants. 

"Thank you," Steve says. 

"We think the activity in Hawkins has ceased. Once they finish rebuilding, it should be back to business as usual." 

Steve nods again. But it'll never be the same. Can't be. But the town will be able to start over. Have proven that's the plan. Hell, they've already figured out a way to start school on time and everything. 

Dr. Owens gives him one last look, and then he's gone.

Eddie's standing on the porch, and as Steve climbs the steps, Eddie holds open the door, asking, "What's next?"

Steve turns the lock, "Anything you want."

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

Notes: In the 1980's Destin was just starting to turn into the vacation city it now is. It went from fishing village to a resort city.

Accept's album Russian Roulette was released on April 21, 1986. As we're all aware, Eddie was wearing an Accept pin on his battle vest during S4.

[penny00dreadful]

This is so fucking stupid and I'm not sorry. Inspired by this video of the two guitarists from DragonForce taking the piss out of Sabaton(affectionately).

Jeffington: Just ended your whole career on live 😘

Eddie scrunched his eyes closed then wrenched them open again, trying to make sense of what he was seeing on his screen. It was too early in the fucking morning for this shit. 

Whatever.

He buried his face back in between Steve’s shoulders and allowed himself to fall asleep once more.

Corroded Coffin had only started making it big in the early 90’s when they split right down the middle. As time went on they started to drift towards different subgenres. Jeff and Grant had wanted to explore a more international sound, while Gareth and Eddie were happy to stay in the power metal scene with just a touch of neoclassical. 

They had tried to make it work, but the sounds were just too different and while Eddie and Grant wanted to continue on with lyrics full of fantasy and gothic romance, Jeff and Grant had wanted to focus more on ‘the human condition’.

So they separated. Eddie and Gareth had kept the Corroded Coffin name while Jeff and Grant travelled, exploring their sound.

There was no animosity. They were all still the best of friends. Even as Jeff and Grant had settled in Stockholm, where they had quickly shot to stardom with their new band members, Eddie and Gareth made their home in California enjoying their own success. They met up as often as they could, whenever tour dates aligned or they were booked into the same festivals.

Eddie and Steve were godfathers to Grant’s youngest daughter.

He and Gareth had been groomsmen in Jeff’s wedding.

They were solid.

Which was why the text from Jeff was more exasperating than worrying. 

Plus it was like… nine in the morning which, granted, wasn't early, early but Eddie was a damn rockstar.

And he might have lost track of time reading last night and stayed up until four but that's besides the point. 

But then Steve was handing him his morning coffee with a kiss, saying Robin had sent him a link to something and fine. He’d go watch whatever stupid shit Jeff pulled.

Eddie settled back into bed because he could and it was a Sunday.

Sue him.

But he couldn’t decide if he should be fake-mad or wildly entertained because the link Robin had sent opened the VOD about an hour into the stream, just in time for Grant to say “Should we do Corroded Coffin?��

Both Jeff and Grant were sitting in Jeff’s studio space in front of Jeff’s computer with a range of instruments behind them, grinning at each other.

“Oh shit, definitely!” Jeff stood and seemed to think about it for a second before picking up one of his guitars, a bright acid green with black tendrils running throughout. “The most dramatic of the bunch,” he leaned into the mic, gesturing at the guitar before taking his seat again, “just like their frontman.”

Eddie rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

“You think you can shred like Munson?” Grant asked, leaning forward and starting to tap out drum beats on the laptop.

Jeff scoffed. “Yeah right. Let me just play at five-fucking-thousand bpm and sing at the same time. It’s gonna be an approximation at best.”

Surprisingly enough the music they came up with did sound very close to Corroded Coffin’s sound. Grant relied heavily on the kick-drum and high hat to a ridiculous degree for Gareth's part and yeah, fair.

Gareth did love his high hat.

Jeff played the fastest guitar riff he could muster which honestly wasn’t that bad. He couldn’t go quite as hard as Eddie could but guitar was always Eddie’s first love and he was a master at his craft. Jeff gave the camera a cheeky wink as he used the computer to speed the guitar solo up, making it sound far more complex.

“I swear to god,” Eddie muttered to himself, “if they insinuate that I do that, I’ll fucking-”

“Eddie would never.” Jeff said, responding to someone in the chat who’d asked that very question.

Grant looked up with a sly smile. “Oh, god no. He’d never. He’s too proud for that.”

Cheeky bastards.

“You know what this needs?”

“Female backing vocals?”

“Yes!" Jeff snapped his fingers. "Exactly. Like something pulled from Jackson’s Lord of the Rings!”

“Oh come on!” Eddie pouted, but even still he could tell they weren’t actually making fun.

A notification popped up on Eddie’s phone.

Gare-Bear: Have you watched the stream?

Eddie: Watching right now. They’re starting on the lyrics.

Gare-Bear: Did Robin send you the link?

Eddie: Yeah.

Gare-Bear: Okay, keep watching.

Eddie: 👍

By the time the guys had hashed the lyrics out, punctuating them with high falsetto points that freaked Jeff’s cats out, Eddie was giggling into his coffee. The lyrics were so comically bad but they were so Corroded Coffin at the same time.

I wear armour and I am sad. I'm all alone and I am sad.  Such a lone wolf am I.  Except I'm not because here comes this hot man who's totally not my husband. Bats and demons and darkness and death. Bow down to me.  Kneel before me.  I am your master.  This is about sex. Oh, look, a dragon! I'll suck your blood then I'll fuck you through the wall. Except I won't because you're an allegory for my husband again. I'll fuck him instead. Every song involves him in some way. Because I'm a big fucking sap.

And then it happened. That crafty wench.

A message popped up in the chat.

BuckyBirdie: Needs more dick sucking lyrics.

“Holy shit.” Grant whipped out his phone. “R- Birdie? Is that you? Stay right there, hold on.”

While Jeff continued to play through the guitar, Grant disappeared, raising the phone to his ear before coming back a few minutes later and whispering something to Jeff.

Jeff’s whole face split into the most mischievous of smiles and Eddie only had time to think oh no before Robin’s face appeared, joining the stream with a tired if not slightly manic expression, all topped off by her yummy sushi pyjamas.

The first thing Grant said to her was “What fucking time is it over there, Birdie?” 

“I dunno.” She shrugged, looking down at her watch. “Like half six in the morning?”

“Oh. Could be worse then.”

“I haven’t slept yet.” She said with a bright smile.

“Dude! Why not?”

“I got into cryptography again last night and I haven’t stopped. Don’t tell Steve.”

Oh, I am so telling Steve. Eddie thought to himself.

“God. What a fuckin’ nerd.” Jeff punctuated his statement with a loud strum of his guitar.

Robin stuck her tongue out. “Takes one to know one.”

“Ouch. Right in my middle schooler heart.”

“Anyway, a little birdie told me you boys need some backing vocals?”

Eddie didn’t know how he was going to get her back for this, but he was sure he’d be able to figure something out eventually.

Like banging pots and pans in her hallway while she slept off her cryptography binge.

Though it was almost worth the hilarity because noted lesbian Robin Buckley happily sat there, singing about dick and tongues and assholes in a high ethereal voice that was then layered behind Jeff's.

By the end, the chat was going wild asking when it was going to be available to stream because even though it was a parody song, it was annoyingly catchy. Just before they signed off, Jeff and Grant let their audience know they’d ask Eddie and Gareth for permission before they’d do anything.

Eddie minimised the video and opened up his chat with Gareth.

Eddie: You wanna let them release it?

Gare-Bear: Fuck yeah!

Eddie: Awesome.

[withacapitalp]

Okay but Steve Robin Dustin and Erica having an eating your feed style YouTube channel- The Scoops Troop- where they attempt to make dishes but they're all really bad at baking (Erica is the Ria who is actually good but unlike Ria she does not help them at all and just cackles as they fuck up)

Eddie is the lead singer of Corroded Coffin who watches Scoops Troop as a relax on the tour bus after shows and Gareth posts daily TikTok's of Eddie cackling along to the show. It becomes a thing especially after Eddie waxes poetically about 'how hot the older guy is like Hello Sailor' and eventually Scoops Troops manager Nancy reaches out to Corroded Coffins manager Chrissy and they arrange for the CC boys to join one of the videos

[ghosttotheparty]

exhibit a (detective mongomery)

ao3 more songwriter!eddie can be found here more songwriting/poetry; mildly nsfw bc eddie is eddie

***

Jeff has a theory.

Gareth agrees with the theory, though he's less confident about it, and Ian disagrees, though he's expressed that there's a chance Jeff may be right.

The theory is that Eddie fucking Munson has a boyfriend.

And Jeff has evidence.

EXHIBIT A: THE RING

Jeff notices that one of Eddie's rings is missing one day.

Granted, it's not the most concrete of evidence, because Eddie is Eddie, so Jeff assumes that he forgot it. Dropped it between his bed and his bedside table and just couldn't be assed to fish it out or to move his furniture. Maybe he was fidgeting with it in the car and dropped it to the ground and forgot about it by the time he got to Gareth's.

So he doesn't say anything.

But the next time he sees him, he isn't wearing it again.

So maybe he dropped it in a crack in a porch and couldn't reach it.

But if that were the case, Jeff feels like Eddie would have complained about it by now. Eddie once proclaimed that bitching is one of his favorite hobbies, along with getting stoned and sucking dick (at the same time or not, which he clarified after Ian questioned it), and the last time he misplaced a ring, he wouldn't shut up about it for three days until Wayne found it in the laundry basket. But maybe Eddie is just maturing. (Hah.)

They're in Jeff's living room, bantering and fucking around, the music from Jeff's record player low so they can hear each other, and as Eddie is watching Gareth and Ian bicker like he's watching a tennis match (not that he'd ever watch a tennis match), looking back and forth and back and forth, Jeff sees him reach for his ring finger, fingers poised to twist it around the way he usually does. The ring isn't there, obviously, and Eddie glances down like he's forgotten, and then a brief smile flashes across his face for a moment before he looks up and shouts that Ian is right, and Gareth, shut the fuck up.

And Jeff wonders.

EXHIBIT B: THE BASKETBALL

Eddie and Wayne live in a new apartment in town. (New being relative. It's a little run-down, with creaky floors and squeaky doors, but it's new to them.) Eddie's room is smaller than it was in the trailer, but Wayne has his own room in the apartment now, with an actual bed instead of a pull-out sofa.

Eddie's room is practically the same. Messy and covered in posters and tapestries and cut-out photos from magazines. His desk is covered in D&D pamphlets and character sheets, messy sketches of characters that he started and forgot about, uncapped pens and markers that must be dry by now. There are clothes covering the floor, hiding the fuzzy rug, and the blankets of his bed are always cast aside, almost falling off the bed because apparently Eddie throws them aside in the morning (or afternoon, depending on the day).

Eddie is searching for the weed he was supposed to bring to Ian's, and Jeff is waiting, leaning against the doorframe, watching as he rummages through some drawers.

"I swear I have it."

"I believe you," Jeff says dryly. "There's gotta be weed in here somewhere." Eddie shoots him a look, sticking out his tongue. He keeps rambling, I thought I fucking put it in here, I don't know how I get all these drawers confused, there aren't even that many, Jesus Christ, and Jeff looks around the room. There's a new poster of Bowie on the wall near his window. Jeff eyes it. It's not really Eddie's style, but Jeff's heard Eddie talk about how hot he is.

He looks at his blankets as Eddie rummages through another drawer. His bed wasn't raised when they were in the trailer, but he has a new bedframe, and now he has boxes and bags and a pizza box and... Is that a basketball?

Jeff looks at Eddie, who has his back to him, groaning as he tosses things aside onto the floor, and he steps to the side, tilting his head to see the orange ball that's partially hidden by a striped blanket that's falling off the bed. Jeff raises an eyebrow.

Eddie Munson has never voluntarily played a sport in his life. Jeff knows it. Gareth and Ian know it. The queen of England knows it. There is no reason for there to be a basketball in his bedroom. Unless it's someone else's. Someone he hasn't mentioned to them.

"Got it!"

Eddie stands, holding up the baggie triumphantly, grinning as he turns to Jeff.

"You really to stop losing illicit substances."

"'S fine," Eddie says, swaying to turn off the light. Jeff glances at the basketball one more time before following him out of the room.

"You're gonna get in trouble one of these days."

"Nah," Eddie says easily, still grinning, and he turns to face Jeff, walking backwards and spreading his arms like a challenge. "I'm immune, baby."

Jeff rolls his eyes, fighting a smile.

"What have I said about calling me baby?"

"Oh my god, it's a general term, I'm not calling you baby, it's just--"

EXHIBIT C: THE EXCUSES

"I forgot I need to help Wayne sort out some boxes before he leaves for work," Eddie says, swinging his guitar over his back. He's still a little out of breath, his hair falling from where it's tied up, exposing the scar around his neck. He won't talk about it. They don't ask. "I'll see you guys later."

"You guys aren't done unpacking?" Gareth asks before he guzzles some water.

"You know Wayne," Eddie says. "He'd put off unpacking for five more years if I didn't volunteer to help."

He's cheerful, going around and smacking loud kisses to their cheeks. Ian grins when he gets to him. He's always liked the affection that Eddie gives out so freely.

"Have you noticed he's been doing that a lot lately?" Ian asks as Eddie's van is pulling out of Gareth's driveway. Eddie rolls his window down and flips them the bird. They do it back. He cackles.

"God, yes," Jeff says, grateful he's not the only one.

"Doing what?" Gareth asks.

"'I have to help Wayne unpack,'" Ian repeats. "'I said I'd help old man Cooper fix his A/C. Henderson needs a ride to an appointment. Little Sinclair is going to the salon and her mom can't take her.'"

Gareth stares at him.

"How can you remember that all word for word but you don't remember when my birthday is?"

"...July--"

"No."

"Fuck. I don't know, my brain's weird. Anyway, he's been doing it a lot lately."

"Yeah," Jeff says, smiling after watching the interaction. (Gareth's birthday is in June.) "I mean, it's not like it's every time we hang out, so I'm not, like, offended or anything, but it's more often than he used to."

Gareth pauses as he spins his drumsticks, holding the door open for them to go inside.

"Do you think it has to do with... everything?"

Everything is code for Eddie going missing and being framed for three murders.

"I don't know," Jeff sighs, swinging open the fridge and finding a bottle of soda before he passes it to Ian. "He seems to have actual stuff to do, like with Erica and Dustin, but if he is lying, I mean... He's gotta have a reason to, right?"

Ian cracks open the soda, leaning against the counter.

"And if it has to do with everything, then, like... I don't know. I don't wanna, like. Pry."

"Yeah," Gareth says.

Jeff agrees. Eddie's been keeping quiet about the whole thing ever since he got discharged from the hospital. He's lost his memory, doesn't remember a lot of what happened, but they've seen him get lost in space, seen him breathe so shallowly it barely looks like he's breathing at all. These episodes (Jeff doesn't know what else to call them) sometimes last a few minutes. The first one was after they played Master of Puppets together for the first time. Eddie had learned it himself on guitar, but when they played it all together in Gareth's garage, he played for about fifteen seconds before he stopped abruptly, his eyes wide and trained on some spot on the ground. It scared the shit out of all of them.

He snapped out of it after a minute, blinking and startling and looking around at them gathered around them, and he was suddenly pale and shivering and holding his side like he had a cramp from running, and when they worriedly asked what happened, he just said in a rough voice I don't really like that song. He left after Jeff forced a bottle of water into his hands.

He's covered in scars. He has a skin graft on his chest, and when they asked about it, about what the fuck is going on? he just shrugged and said, "You know how much I paid for that zombie head?" in reference to the tattoo that's mostly covered in scar tissue now.

He doesn't want to tell. So they don't ask.

"Do you guys think..." Jeff hesitates, sipping his own soda, hopping up on the counter next to where Ian is leaning. "Do you guys think he might be seeing someone?"

They blink at him.

"Why the fuck would we think he might be seeing someone?" Ian asks, almost smiling.

"He..." Jeff hesitates again, realising how dumb the ring and basketball seem. Eddie loses shit. Maybe he forgot. Lucas plays basketball, and Jeff knows he and Eddie are pretty close now. Maybe he just convinced Eddie to help him practice. "I don't know."

But Gareth is nodding, staring at the ground, frowning.

"No, I can see that."

"You can?" Ian says.

"I mean, he's probably not, but it kinda makes sense. He's been ditching more lately, he's all smiley all the time. Et cetera."

"I don't know," Ian says, grimacing, but Jeff nods.

"He's smiling so much," he says, pointing at Gareth with his bottle. "Especially, like, in the past few weeks."

"Right?"

"Maybe he's just recovering," Ian says.

Oh.

Gareth and Jeff look at each other, wincing.

"Maybe."

"Maybe."

EXHIBIT D: THE HUMMING

Jeff leans back in his desk chair, lifting his legs up onto his desk, pulling his comic book closer to his face. He should probably get his eyes checked.

Eddie is laying upside down on Jeff's bed, his head hanging off as he draws in a notebook. (Jeff's never understood how he does it; his head hanging off the edge of the bed, holding up a notebook in front of his face, drawing without a care in the world.) It's quiet.

Jeff flips the page of his comic book, careful not to bend the pages, but as he's looking at the first panel, he hears the distinct, low rumble of Eddie's voice. He looks up, thinking for a split second that Eddie is speaking to him, but he's just humming. He does that a lot. He doesn't even notice himself doing it.

Jeff looks back at the comic book, listening, but he pauses again, looking up at the wall in front of himself as he furrows his brows, listening closer until he recognizes the song. He doesn't know the name of it, but he's pretty sure it's by Tears for Fears.

Tears for fucking fears.

Jeff looks at Eddie, who's still drawing, the notebook wavering as he looks at it, and after another minute, he moves, rolling over and shifting to lay on his stomach, setting the notebook down in front of himself. His brows are furrowed in focus, lips pouting a little bit, but he doesn't stop humming, and Jeff narrows his eyes.

He doesn't know anyone that listens to Tears for Fears. Maybe Dustin, but Eddie would probably, definitely tell him to shut it off because he has a musical superiority complex. (Jeff has no idea what Lucas listens to, and Mike probably listens to the same stuff as Eddie. Ian and Gareth both like rock and metal, and Erica probably listens to Cyndi Lauper or something.)

But here Eddie is, about a minute into a Tears for Fears song that Jeff can't even name, humming softly, happily to himself.

And Jeff wonders who the fuck Eddie is allowing to listen to, is tolerating listening to, Tears for Fears in Eddie's presence. And often enough that Eddie apparently knows the words.

It happens again the next week while they're all at Gareth's house, sitting in the kitchen and helping Gareth's mom make dinner. Jeff is peeling carrots, passing them to Eddie to chop, and Mrs Emerson's radio is playing, sitting on the windowsill. It's just on some Top 40s type station, which Eddie tolerates for Mrs Emerson because she tolerates their band practice in her garage.

The song fades out and there's a moment of quiet static, accompanied by Eddie's knife on the cutting board, the smooth sounds of the peeler, the clinking of the dishes that Gareth is putting away, the clicking of the stove turning on as Ian follows Mrs Emerson's directions. The next song starts, and Jeff passes the naked carrot to Eddie, pushing the peels to the side where he's collecting them to give to Gareth's dog.

He pauses the peeling when he hears Eddie's low hum, under his breath, and he stares at the carrot, listening before he slowly turns to look at him. He's just chopping the carrots, as easily as he always does, scooping them onto the knife and pouring them into the salad bowl next to him, humming and humming.

His voice is lower than the singer's voice, and it harmonizes nicely, but Jeff doesn't know what to think.

He glances over his shoulder across the kitchen, catching Ian's eye as he's mixing something in a bowl, also frozen and staring at Eddie.

Toto? Ian mouths at Jeff, looking more confused than he's ever looked, and Jeff shrugs, wide-eyed. Gareth leans up next to Ian, staring at Eddie's back intently before he looks at Jeff and mouths What the fuck?

Jeff shrugs again.

They don't say anything.

Eddie never notices that he's humming.

Jeff can't stop thinking about it, about what kind of person Eddie would listen to pop music for. He has a boyfriend. There's no way it can be anyone else.

EXHIBIT E: THE SONG LYRICS

Eddie is the main songwriter of the band. They all trust him with it all, and add their own bits and pieces when they play all together, like a drum solo for Gareth, and his lyrics changed a bit when he came back after everything.

His words were more intense, less literal. One lyric sings about the sky turning red, and the silhouettes of monsters. One song was called Batshit, about demon bats with steak knife tails. One sings about a girl with curly hair and a sawed-off shotgun, and another girl with vodka bottles and a lighter.

Save the world, save my life, Get your guns, I'll get my knife. Cut the shit, ignore the scythe And blow that shit to pieces

He sings about carnivorous flowers and flickering lights, about floating girls and broken bones, about blood-stained ceilings and sneakers and a bottomless lake.

Oh, it's a nightmare I'm living God, the world's flipped inside out There's spiders in my veins I feed them coffee and self-doubt

And then after a while, the vibes shift. He still sings about it all, about the fantasy, nightmarish world that comes up time and time again, but then he shows up with lyrics about a boy.

A boy. No one by name, or by description, almost just the idea of a boy rather than an actual one. When they ask who the lyrics are about, he gives them a Who knows? shrug, and Jeff's suspicions might as well be confirmed.

Some are sexual, very Eddie-esque, about lungs filled with smoke and mouths filled with cock, about the taste of sin on his tongue and hair tangled in rings. About being roughed up and cuffed up, the bite of metal around wrists, about being watched and known. Something about if they knew what we knew, they wouldn't care at all.

Others are sweeter, which just confirms Jeff's suspicions even more. Some sing about soft hair and sparkly eyes, about going stargazing by staring at his skin.

Kiss me 'til I'm flushed all red I wanna be your favorite color, baby

Eddie smiles while they go through the lyrics all together, his cheeks pink, but they still don't say anything.

EXHIBIT F: THE HICKEY

"Afternoon, fellas," Eddie says brightly, hopping into the room, dropping his bag on the ground next to where Ian is sitting and headbutting him affectionately. Ian beams. "How we doing?"

They talk as he gets sorted, finding his place on Gareth's bed between Ian and Gareth, laying on his back so his head is hanging over the edge, upside down, his hair falling. It almost touches the ground. He laughs at something Gareth says, but Jeff doesn't hear it, because from where he's sitting he has the perfect view of Eddie's neck.

Hence he has the perfect view of the purplish-red bruise above the collar of his t-shirt, and Jeff finally can't stop himself.

"Eddie."

"Hm?"

He turns his head to look at him, and the second their eyes meet, Jeff knows he knows. Eddie's eyes widen, and he slowly reaches to his shirt collar, pulling it up (down?) so it covers the bruise.

"Is there something you want to share with us?"

"...No?"

"What's going on?" Gareth asks, watching them.

"Eddie has a hickey."

"Jeff!"

"You wore a loose t-shirt, did you think we weren't gonna see it?"

Eddie just groans obnoxiously, throwing his arms up to cover his face, and Jeff grins when he sees how red he is. Ian laughs, reaching out to poke at his legs, ignoring the way Eddie is kicking at him.

"Eddie-e-e," Gareth sings. "Who is it?"

"It's no one, fuck off."

"Edmund. Edward. Eduardo."

"Oh my god."

He pushes himself to sit up, avoiding their eyes, and he sits at the edge of the bed, turning a little to make sure Jeff can see him too.

"Okay," he says, huffing. "I..."

"Who is it?" Gareth prompts. Jeff is beaming. He loves being right.

"I can't... I can't give you a name, he's not... out." Eddie's looking down at his lap.

"Okay," Gareth says, still waiting. "Is he your boyfriend?"

"...Yeah."

"Is he the reason you listen to Toto and shit now?" Jeff says, and Eddie looks up at him, his hair flying.

"I don't listen to Toto and shit," he says defensively. "He listens to Toto and shit and I allow it because I love him--"

Ian and Gareth let out identical shouts, and Jeff's eyes and grin widen. Eddie turns redder, rolling his eyes to the ceiling and covering his face.

"You love him?" Gareth says loudly, reaching out to rustle his hair. "Love?"

"Shut up," Eddie groans, but he's starting to smile under his hands as they all laugh.

"Why?" Ian asks.

"Why do I love him?"

"Yeah."

Eddie sighs heavily, rolling over the edge of the bed and falling to the ground with a heavy thud that makes them laugh again. He lies on his back, laying starfished on the ground and looking at the ceiling, eyes wide and dreamy.

"He's just... He's so great. He's beautiful. Fucking gorgeous. And funny as hell, even though he doesn't even try to be. And he's... kind. Like really, genuinely kind, and-- and selfless. He loves his friends, he'd do anything for them." He pauses, his smile faltering for a moment, tilting his head. "He makes me feel safe."

They're all quiet. Eddie hasn't gushed about any of his crushes in ages, not since Steve Harrington graduated. (And, God, wasn't that a time. Eddie was bitter about it, about how much he liked him, but every time someone brought him up, Eddie would turn into a blushing, smiling mess. Embarrassing.)

"Was he involved in everything?" Ian asks softly, and Eddie swallows, blinking at the ceiling, his face going a little blank. That happens every time it comes up. Everything. He'll zone out or look distant, and his voice will become a little empty in a way that makes Jeff feel sick.

"Yeah," Eddie says, blinking again. He takes a deep breath, and he looks like he's trying to stay there, in his body. "He's... He's the reason I'm alive."

They're quiet.

"Shit," Gareth says succinctly.

"Yeah."

"He's good to you?" Jeff asks.

Eddie sighs, smiling again.

"He's so good to me. He listens to me talk nonstop about D&D and shit even though he doesn't know anything about it, and he asks me questions, and he shows me stuff that he likes and he always looks so excited that I just... Like. Can't help but like it too."

"Is the basketball his?"

Eddie lifts his head, squinting at him.

"You saw that?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, it's his."

"Did you give him your ring?"

"Jesus, are you a fucking detective?"

Jeff grins. Eddie lays his head back down.

"Yeah, I gave it to him."

"Wait," Gareth says, leaning over the edge of the bed, looking at Eddie. "I didn't see the hickey, lemme see."

"Absolutely not."

"Lemme see-e-e..."

----------------------------------------------------------

It's Friday night at the Hideout. They've been getting bigger crowds since Eddie's charges were dropped, metalheads and weirdos coming from across the state to see Eddie Munson live on stage, with his wild hair and scarred neck.

They're nearing the end of their setlist, pausing to drink water, grinning and laughing across the stage. Eddie is having a blast. He hasn't stopped beaming, even as he sings about hell and a house on fire. Jeff wonders if his face is sore from smiling.

The next song is called Midas. Jeff assumes it's about Eddie's boyfriend. It's heavy, bold and screamy. It makes Eddie's voice rough, but he doesn't seem to care at all.

Would you let me kneel at your feet and press my lips to your ring? Would it bring you a spark of joy? Will your smile make the clouds sing?

Jeff looks into the crowd, squinting in the blinding fluorescent lights, and he feels fucking alive here, like the music is coursing through his veins, like every shout from the crowd is rejuvenating him. His eyes scan the front row, looking at the girls with dark makeup and the boys will long hair, at the leather jackets and denim vests and pins that flash under the lights and-- Is that Steve fucking Harrington?

Jeff almost falters, but he looks away from the boy, keeps playing, pretends he isn't there, but he can't help but look back by the next verse, his propped up as he plays. It sure looks like Harrington, complete with the floppy hair, but there's no way Steve Harrington is in the front row of a metal show, wearing a battle vest and smiling. The lights are flashing, running over the crowd like water, and Jeff can't see clearly, and it can't be.

My man with his holy touch Won't you turn my heart to gold? Press your hands into my chest My heart is yours to hold

Eddie's voice is breaking, and Jeff glances at him, curious if he's seen the Steve look-alike in the front row, the Steve look-alike that seems to be beaming up at him, wide-eyed, but Eddie's eyes are squeezed shut as he sings and strums his guitar.

Take my hand baby, make me yours My beautiful king Midas They'll tell us gold's a sin, but They can't stop what's inside us

Jeff's ears are ringing when it's all over, when they get off the stage to talk with some people. (It feels weird to call them fans. They aren't fans, Corroded Coffin isn't big enough to have fans.) Some people that work at the Hideout are moving the equipment, taking the drums and guitars and amps, and Jeff is sitting at the edge of the stage, talking with a girl that sat toward the back of the bar. She's holding a beer bottle, and she has a beautiful smile, but even as she talks to him, he can't help but realise that Eddie is nowhere in sight.

So he excuses himself politely, slipping past her and finding his way backstage, looking around until he opens a door, and Eddie has his back to the wall, holding a boy against himself. A boy with bare, scar-covered arms, wearing a denim vest, with floppy brown hair that's twisted around Eddie's fingers as Eddie groans loudly because the boy is slipping a leg between Eddie's, and it's nearly filthy, the sounds they're making, because they're licking into each other's mouths, groaning and whining and murmuring and Jeff can't look away.

"Fuck, Stevie," Eddie chokes as the boy buries his face in Eddie's neck, and--

"Oh my god."

Eddie and Steve part with startled shouts, detaching and stumbling as they both flush red and look at Jeff with wide eyes.

"Jeff, why?" Eddie says loudly, breathing hard.

"Uh." He blinks. "You're the one making out in a public place."

"Oh, Jesus." Eddie bends over, taking a deep breath, groaning. Steve is staring at Jeff, wide-eyed and terrified, and Jeff takes a moment to take him in. He's wearing eyeliner, smudged and dark around his eyes (sparkly eyes), and his hair is touselled, longer than it was in high school. He's wearing a black shirt under the battle best, and oh, that's Eddie's vest. His jeans are light blue and fitted, and his hands are shaking, and he has the same scar around his neck that Eddie has. Jeff's body is consumed with curiosity and confusion, but it doesn't matter, because Steve is shaking, and Eddie is taking his hand, squeezing.

"Jeff, can you keep your mouth shut about this?" Eddie asks, his eyes imploring, begging, and Jeff nods.

"I saw nothing," he says. "I don't even know where I am, I was just trying to find the bathroom."

Steve cracks a smile, and he's totally Eddie's type.

"Oh," Jeff says, blinking. "King Midas."

Steve's cheeks flush with color again, and Jeff says, "Oh, right, sorry," before he turns on his heal and walks out.

"Where'd you go?" Ian asks when he gets out to Eddie's van.

"Bathroom."

"Where's Eddie?"

"No idea, I couldn't find him. Dumbass probably got lost."

He's always been good at lying.

Eddie comes out after another ten minutes, looking a little touseled but no more so than he does after most gigs. He apologizes, and jokes that he got lost, and Gareth and Ian laugh. Eddie hops in the front seat, asks if they want to go to his place for drinks, and they all say yes. As they're headed to his apartment, crossing the parking lot, Eddie lingers back and speaks quietly to Jeff.

"He's, uhm. Gonna meet us at my place."

"I thought you guys were keeping this quiet."

"We are, mostly, he just... His best friend knows about us. And you know--"

"Sorry about that, by the way."

"No, it's..." Eddie shakes his head. "Not your fault, we were fully making out in a public place, we just, uhm."

"Were worked up," Jeff finished for him, and in the light of the streetlights above them, Eddie flushes red.

"...Yeah."

Jeff snickers and pokes at him.

"So he wants to... meet the guys?"

"Yeah. I talk about you a lot, so he said he trusts you guys if I do, and I do, so."

Jeff nods, smiling.

"He's pretty cool."

"He's a prep, Jeff, he's adorable."

"I cannot believe your type is normies."

"Shut up."

When Steve shows up, he lets himself in. He has a key.

"Hi."

Ian and Gareth both look up at him from where they're sitting on the sofa, glancing him up and down, recognizing him, questioning him, wondering.

"Hi?"

"So, uhm..." Eddie goes to stand next to Steve, his eyes shining at him like he's asking something silently, and Steve nods a little bit, taking a breath. "Ian, Gareth, Jeff. Steve." He gestures to all of them, and Steve waves awkwardly. Jeff sees Eddie's ring on his finger.

"Hi," Ian and Gareth say again. Jeff lifts his chin up at him, smiling when their eyes meet.

"Uh." Eddie pauses, gesturing to Steve again. "...Boyfriend."

Ian and Gareth both blink, and Jeff grins, watching the gears turn in their head.

"Oh," Ian says. "Cool."

Gareth stares for a second before,

"I cannot believe you got with your high school crush after high school."

Steve beams.

He ends up going to Eddie's room and coming back in Eddie's clothes, in a sweater and some sweatpants, and they sit on the floor together as the guys ask them questions. They skirt their way around some of them, without even glancing at each other to figure out what the other will say, It's like they're perfectly in tune with each other. Eddie plays with Steve's fingers while they all talk.

Jeff can tell that Ian and Gareth are also surprised but are keeping it under wraps. Surprised that King Steve is the boy Eddie was talking about when he described his boyfriend's kindness, selflessness, bravery, when he said He makes me feel safe, but even now it's obvious that it's true. Eddie leans up against him and holds his arm, gazes at him and kisses his shoulder for no reason. He's in love.

Jeff tells Eddie later all the clues he gave without meaning, and he realises the Bowie poster was a clue after hearing Steve humming Heroes. Oh well. He was still right.

[italiansteebie]

something something singer steve never taking his talent super seriously, he was in choir as a kid but his dad took him out in favor of a more "manly" extracurricular.

the talent never really left him though, he'd always been somewhat musically inclined, able to pick up a guitar and play a basic song and sing along, it always went well with girls. he'd serenade them and that was it. but no one really seemed to take it seriously, so he didn't either.

until eddie munson came along, waxing about his beloved band and how they were "sure to make it big someday." and they were pretty good. until their vocalist up and left, claiming he had a better chance at a solo career. whatever, his loss.

the rest of corroded coffin is at a loss, they need a singer, eddie's lyrics were too good to skip out on, however, none of them could sing. they've tried. it was bad.

they thought about holding auditions but no one wanted to audition for an accused murderer. so gareth stepped up, and tried his best, but if we're being honest, his best wasn't good enough.

so they took their loss. deciding to focus on hell fire rather than corroded coffin bc at least that was fun.

it'd been a few weeks of not playing gigs that they'd heard it. they were in harringtons basement, setting up for the newest campaign, when a gentle voice floated through the room.

"all of my love, oh all of my love, oh all of my love... to you now."

was that steve? no way. he's just a jock, right?

but the look on eddie's face said he'd already had a plan in motion, "let's ask steve!"

"no."

"why noooottttt? he's good!"

steve walks in, "who's good?"

"you are! at singing! why didn't you tell us? you knew we've been out a singer!"

steve scoffs "i'm not a singer, i just... sing along to the radio." corroded coffin scoffs right back, "yeah, well!" they'd gotten on board, how could they not? there was a singer, right here!

so that's how steve became corroded coffins vocalist, in fact, he may have even pushed them over the edge of there local band status to touring band status.

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Seven Deadly Sins Pop-Up Event

This week (October 25th-31st) your prompts will cover the seven deadly sins:

pride | greed | lust | envy | gluttony | wrath | sloth

You may interpret these prompts in any way you'd like during this week, in any order, as long as you've focused on one or more members of Corroded Coffin. Use one prompt at a time, use them all. It's up to you.

Just read the full guidelines and rules and have fun!

Get those submissions in between now and 11:59 PM EDT on October 31st!

[strangersteddierthings]

Look i know we aren't getting Eddie back in s5. I know.

What i would like instead is the CC boys. At least an appearance. At least one of them to talk to Dustin or Mike or Lucas and ASK about Eddie.

I just want canon grieving and if I gotta get that from a background character breaking down when one of the The Party confirms he's gone then I'll take it.

Would prefer if this exchange is with Dustin and we get to see him really cry about it while clutching at one of the CC boys but I'll take anything.

[sp0o0kylights]

I have a warmup AU kicking around where Steve and Robin get trapped in a timeloop that resets right as the basketball game/Hellfire kickoff and anyway here's a part

Wheeler Jr yelps, sliding as a demobat swoops down and beats at him with its wings. Teeth snap close to his head, missing his ear by inches. 

He twirls, arms waving madly, until Harrington grabs him, keeping Mike's head down with one hand and jamming his nailbat toward the creature with the other. 

The two of them manage to make it into Eddie's van, half falling half jumping, Gareth and Grant slamming the door behind them as demobats dive at them. 

"Gun it!" Gareth calls and Eddie does so, the lurch sending Henderson and Jeff tumbling to the floor. 

Eddie watches in the mirror as Mike, the most antagonist of the freshman when it comes toHarrington, clings to the ex-jocks shirt for a moment.

Steve's hand has left the back of his shirt, though now Eddie can see his grip has changed to more of a tender hold on the kid. Something familiar and comforting.

"I got you." Steve says quietly and it's only because Eddie's got his attention split between him and the road that he catches it, and the way Mike presses his forehead against Steve's shoulder for a moment before finally sitting up. 

Which just confirms what Eddie already knew--for all his bluster and guff, Mike was one of Harrington's too. 

[infinite-orangepeel]

#14 On the post you just reposted

hi anon ! thanks so much for submitting this one and thank you to @steddie-interactions for creating this ask game ♡

this accidentally became not so safe for tumblr as I was writing it soooo minors close your eyes and the rest of you: there's some light filth in this one for sure....proceed with caution. also there's baby girl steve on high sooooo again do with that what you will :)

14. Do you think Steve would join Corroded Coffin or only be a fan?

Hmm. This is a tough one, only because I can see it both ways.

If we're going solely off of his canon character, I imagine he'd be just a fan. I think he'd attend all the shows, help Eddie with his eyeliner before he goes on stage, and drag Robin and Nancy to every single gig. He'd make signs, brings flowers, and wear CC merch 24/7. Total supportive boyfriend, for sure. He loves seeing Eddie in his element (and especially loves the sex they have afterwards when he's still high on the performance adrenaline).

However (and I like this idea just as much), if we're going slightly OOC and really playing up the baby girl energy--he's 10000% joining the band.

Steve would start out as a devoted groupie, make eddie fall stupidly in love with him, hook-up with him backstage, and once eddie finds out steve can sing (really well), they sign him on as a fully-fledged member of the band. and steve wears some pretty wild stuff on stage. he loves to tease the audience, loves to press up close to eddie while he shreds on the guitar, loves to flash his lace panties "accidentally" for the crowd. loves feeling eddie's cock swell up against his ass when he leans his head back on his boyfriend's shoulder to sing the song he wrote about him. he's a gorgeous, high energy mess of lace, leather, glitter, and gloss. and eddie can't help but be completely infatuated and transfixed by him. encourages steve to push the envelops even further by fingering him on stage while he tries to hit a high note--he's not wearing any panties under his skirt so they get quite the view...

and bc i love thinking about/making mood boards for these types of things. here's some baby girl rockstar steve inspo of how i imagine he might look on stage....

@jjoesjonas i'm 99.99999% sure you'll be into this lol

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

You Hear That?

Week #4 Prompt: Camping | Word Count: 3850 | Rating: T | POV: Robin | Pairings: Platonic Stobin, Pre-Steddie | Characters: Robin, Steve, Eddie, Corroded Coffin, The Party, Nancy & Jonathan | CW: Language, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking | Tags: S3, Reluctant Camping, Unexpected Crossing of Paths, Platonic Stobin, Corroded Coffin Boys, Pre-Steddie, Flirting

This is set during the S3 finale. Happening between Starcourt and the "three months later" time jump.

"Camping. Capital camp. Lowercase…ing," Steve says, trailing off at the end, his forehead wrinkling up in confusion as he clearly tries to think through the dumb thing he just said.

"Well, that kinda fell apart on you, didn't it, dingus?" Robin asks, arching her eyebrow in his direction.

"Shut up. You know what I mean. Camping! Fun!" Steve shouts, far too close to her face.

"Back off, Boogaloo. And I beg to differ. Camping is not fun. Camping is torture, and I'm not signing up to be tortured with you again. One and done, at least per summer, that's my official policy."

Steve gives her the eyes, but they aren't gonna work. She's immune to his wiles. The Harrington Charm doesn't do anything to her loins, unfortunately for him.

"No," she says, and that's that. End of discussion.

Three hours later, here she stands, right in the middle of Hunting & Camping, a store in town she never thought she'd ever have to step foot into.

"Steve, you know what lives in those woods. Do you have a death wish?"

"C'mon! There's been nothing, nada, since Starcourt. It's done. Over with. Gone. We can live our lives, go camping, anything we choose."

"Great. But we do not choose camping," Robin insists, "We aren't camping people, are we? There's no haircare in the woods, Steve. Think about that. Long and hard."

"Fine. You stay here. I'll go camping alone," Steve says, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You're not going camping alone!" she screeches, because he'll be killed for sure.

"You're right, I'm not. The kids are demanding to come along. So, it's me and Jonathan."

"Well, that sounds fun for the both of you. Who will come home with a black eye? History says-"

Steve interrupts, "Yeah, yeah. Exactly. So, you have to go. You and Nance. So the girls can come along. Joyce will allow El to go, but only if you ladies go, too."

"Chief Hopper will roll over in his grave if El goes camping with Mike Wheeler present. You and I both know that."

"Well, good thing he'll never know, I guess," Steve says, defiant. "C'mon, Buckley. Are you with me or not?" 

She's always with him, now. That's just how it's gonna be, maybe forever. Or at least until they get eaten in the woods they have no damn business traipsing into.

"Fine, I'm with you. But mark me down as a hostage." 

"Great, love to hear it," Steve says, a big smile on his face, and she reluctantly smiles back. It's contagious, even if she knows this is a terrible idea for many, many reasons.

The trek out to Skull Rock is pretty shitty, but she keeps up. Walking alongside the not so prissy Nancy Wheeler, Erica, El and Max. She should have worn better shoes. Steve should have told her to wear better shoes. Nancy is in hiking boots and Robin is not at all surprised that she's prepared for life in ways Robin will probably never be. 

Up ahead, the boys are arguing, causing a ruckus, and Steve is clearly regretting this decision. Good. He should. This was a terrible idea of, like, epic proportions. Maybe worse than working in a mall with a Russian secret lair underneath it.

"How did you even get to come?" Robin asks Erica. Because she didn't expect her to be standing there on the curb with Lucas, her My Little Pony sleeping bag under her arm.

"Tina is covering for me, duh, so I can hang out with you nerds. Don't know why I even want to though," she says, snippy, and Robin grins. She's funny.

"Maybe we should have invited Tina," Robin says.

"And risk her seeing I even know you nerds? Absolutely not," Erica says, like she's totally disgusted, and Robin laughs. 

"Okay, hot shot," she answers, watching as Nancy stops behind Steve and the boys, as they scout out a spot that might work.

"Here?" Jonathan asks, and Steve nods, agreeing.

Steve is finishing putting up the tents, all of them, because nobody is helping him, not even Nancy. He kind of had this coming, it was all his terrible idea.

"You hear that?" Steve asks, head turned towards the sky, like he's a damn dog. 

"Hear what?" Robin asks. She doesn't hear anything. "Is it a monster? A bear? It better not be a bear, I swear-"

"It's not a bear. It's a guitar," Steve says, driving the last of the tent poles into the ground.

"A guitar? In the woods?" Who the hell would be playing a guitar in the woods. Probably some sort of demented fairy, destined to murder them all, given the opportunity. 

"I hear what I hear, Buckley. I'm gonna investigate," Steve says.

"Well, it was good knowing you, Harrington," Robin answers, because everybody knows you don't go blundering into the woods, especially if it sounds like you're being lured there, for fuck's sake.

Steve would definitely be the first to die in a horror movie.

Except, she knows that's not true. He's more capable than she ever could have expected, especially for being such a big dingus.

Steve just waves her off, and starts stomping off into the underbrush. Heading towards the sound she definitely doesn't hear.

But after a little hesitation, she follows. He can't go alone. She knows what could happen if he does.

"I knew you'd come," he crows, pleased with himself.

"Shut up, dingus," she mutters, and the further they walk, the more she thinks Steve was right. There is the faint sound of a guitar.

And laughing. 

Steve pushes apart the branches of a bush, just enough for them to see through it, together. Spying. 

It feels familiar.

And there's the culprit, Eddie Munson from band, sitting around a fire with some other boys, playing his guitar. Jeff Williams, Jackie's older brother, is one of them, she's pretty sure. 

They have a case of beer, and she's pretty certain that's the faint stench of weed hanging in the air.

"It's just Eddie Munson," Steve whispers, like she isn't aware of that. 

"Yeah, I have eyes, I can see that it's Eddie and his cronies."

Steve lets the branches go, and she is sure they're gonna turn around and leave, but they aren't that lucky. Honestly, they'd have no luck at all if they didn't have bad luck.

"Hey! Who the fuck is there?" Eddie yells, the guitar playing ceasing.

Steve rolls his eyes, pushing forward, out into the open, "It's just me, Munson, cool your jets."

"What the fuck are you doing out here, Harrington?" Eddie asks, then clearly catches a glimpse of Robin, "Oh. I see."

"Ew, no, you see nothing," Robin says, feeling the urge to clear up that misunderstanding right away. 

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize band geek Robin Buckley was too good for King Steve Harrington."

"Way too good," she snarks, and Eddie laughs, really laughs, and Steve doesn't, but she can tell he's amused and not mad.

"If you're not out here to fuck, then what brings you two into our neck of the woods?" Eddie asks, slouching over towards them.

"Your neck of the woods? I'm the one that popularized this spot, I'll have you know," Steve snaps, bitchy, arms crossed.

Robin smiles.

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, tilting his head, offering Steve a big, predatory smile.

"Definitely sure that's so," Steve answers, not backing down.

"That's not how I've heard it," one of the other guys shouts from near the fire they've lit, and Robin isn't sure who he is. 

"And you are? The forest authority?" Robin asks, challenging him.

"Yep. That's me," he snaps back, but doesn't offer up his name.

"That's just Gareth," Eddie says, "don't mind him."

Oh, no way. Gareth Jones? The goofy kid she had to deal with at her job at The Hawk last summer that drove her insane? His mother dropped him off nearly every afternoon, money in hand, and he always made a fucking mess with his popcorn and Reese's Pieces. He might be the number one reason she took the job at Scoops this summer, instead of going back to theater. Looking at him now, he's sure changed. Growth spurts are a bitch, she supposes. 

"Nice hair," she snarks at him, looking at his poodle-looking head. He's clearly trying to grow it out, probably to be more like Eddie, but it just isn't there yet, and his curls definitely aren't making things easy on him.

"What are you doing out here, anyway? Dirty freak orgy?" Steve asks, and Robin doesn't know how she got so lucky to have such a bitchy boy as a best friend, but she loves her good fortune. 

Eddie laughs, and she sees Steve smile at him.

"Why? You wanna join?" Eddie asks, leering, taking a lazy, sauntering step closer to Steve, assuming he'll back down. Eddie's hands are framing his belt buckle, drawing the eye, even her eye, and it's so gross but she's also very intrigued to see how this pans out. 

Eddie's not gonna scare Steve with the fear of the queer, and she was right, Steve doesn't back down, like she knew he wouldn't.

"Maybe I do," Steve says, rubbing his lips together, tongue wetting them in a gross taunting way, and Robin wants to spray him with a garden hose, but doesn't have that option, so instead she just watches as Eddie's eyes flick down to Steve's slick, glossy lips. 

Gross. Fuck her whole life. She takes back all the stuff about loving her good fortune. This is bad fortune. Like, empty fortune cookie levels of bad luck. Russians under the ice cream shop you work in, rotten luck. Honestly.

But Steve wins this round, because Eddie is the one that retreats, but he's laughing as he does it, waving his hand for them to follow. They're not gonna do that, right?

Wrong. Steve follows, so she trails behind.

"Gareth, you've met," Eddie says, "Jeff. Goodie. We didn't know we were encroaching on King Steve's territory, but we're just hanging out, camping, if that's alright with you two."

"I guess," Steve says, teasing, fucking flirting if she's not mistaken. Can't he ever turn it off? Ugh. "We're camping down there. With the kids I babysit. I heard your guitar, wanted to make sure you weren't straight out of Deliverance, or, like, ax murderers."

"Well, I am that, or haven't you heard?" Eddie asks, dimple showing up in the firelight. And Robin doesn't know how she's here right now. She should have stayed with Nancy and Jonathan and just let Steve be eaten by bears or monsters. Or Eddie Munson. Whatever.

"Heard what?" Steve asks.

"Hellfire Club!" Eddie shouts, waving his arms in an animated way, and Robin doesn't know what that is, and clearly Steve doesn't either.

"Sorry, man. Is that your band?" Steve asks, looking as confused as she feels.

"No, that's Corroded Coffin!" Gareth snaps, popping off, all pissy from the log he's sitting on.

"Sorry, my bad," Steve says.

"We play at The Hideout on Tuesdays," Gareth says, eyes narrowed.

"You play in a bar. You?" Robin asks, not believing a word of this. Not possible.

Gareth starts to answer, but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts him off.

"I'm channeling Satan. And I'm offended you don't know that, Harrington," Eddie says, and Steve's face is pure confusion, and Eddie laughs, taking pity on him, "It's the D&D club I run," Eddie adds, and Robin sees the light bulb pop on over Steve's head, like he's in a goddamn cartoon.

"Oh! The kids play that," Steve says.

"Do they now?" Eddie asks, not believing him, clearly.

"Unfortunately."

"And how old are these kids?" Eddie asks.

"Freshman, in the fall-" Steve says.

"Fresh blood," one of the guys says, cackling under his breath, as Steve keeps talking.

"-but I think Will is moving," Steve finishes.

"Will Byers, the zombie boy?" Eddie asks.

"Ssshh!" Steve hisses, "Don't call him that, okay?"

Eddie holds up his hands, backing off.

"Okay, okay, Harrington, don't get so worked up. I was just kidding," Eddie says, and the other boys all laugh.

"Well, it's not funny," Steve says, softly, "just. Don't. Okay?"

"Okay," Eddie concedes. 

"Thank you, he's been through a lot," Steve says, looking back over his shoulder, like the kids might all be snooping right behind them. Which, fair enough. They would totally do that, given half a chance.

"Well, since you're here, you want a beer or…?"

And Steve's nodding, like an idiot. 

Robin snags his arm, "Nancy will kill you." 

And Eddie takes a step back, hands going up, "Well, we wouldn't want the girlfriend mad." 

"She's not my girlfriend," Steve says, looking at Robin, "and Nancy can handle the kids for a bit, yeah? She's got Jonathan."

Robin is sure this is a bad idea. Nancy will be pissed about being left, and probably be pissed at Steve for having a beer or a toke, or whatever he has planned, while he's supposed to be in charge of the kids. 

"You're camping with your ex-girlfriend, her new boyfriend and...Robin from band? Oh, how the mighty have fallen." 

Steve doesn't take the bait, just pushes forward and sits down on the fallen log, right next to Gareth, who squawks in protest. 

Eddie follows, and hands Steve a beer, and then offers one to Robin. She shakes her head no, one of them needs to keep their sanity, she thinks, and then she watches as Eddie lights up a joint. Great. 

They pass it around, and she's not sure what they're doing here. These guys don't like them, and they definitely don't like these guys. 

Every time Eddie came into Scoops, as soon as he was gone, Steve would say something about Eddie "The Freak" Munson. And now he's just hanging out with him, like that's a normal thing to do? 

It's not a normal thing to do. Not at all.

"So, you're babysitting tonight?" Eddie asks.

"Unfortunately," Steve answers.

"Shame, I'd like to get The King all fucked up," Eddie says, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, hands cupping his face.

"Don't call me that. High school is over. Steve is fine," Steve says, and the other boys all laugh, and Eddie throws up another hand and they all stop.

Toadies. The toadiest of the toadies.

"Steve," Eddie says, and it's positively lewd. 

"Thank you," Steve says, taking a long drag, holding it in his lungs, showing off, slowly killing himself in the process, she's sure of it. Idiot.

Robin shakes her head.

Then she feels something brushing her shin, and jumps, expecting a snake, or something worse, but it's just the boy she doesn't know, toeing at her with his shoe, offering her a can of Coke, cold and dripping with ice water from the cooler at his side.

She takes it, "Thanks. I'm Robin."

"Goodie," he says, like he isn't at all interested.

"Goodie?" she asks, and makes eye contact with Jeff Williams.

"It's a nickname," Jeff explains, like she might have thought otherwise? 

But she just nods.

"I'm in your class," Goodie says dryly, and are they? She swore they were a year younger.

"Sorry, we must not have classes together very often, if ever," she says.

"Of course we don't, you were always in all those smart classes," Goodie snaps, and she laughs. Mrs. Click's history class with Steve Harrington was not the smart class, even if she was a year ahead of where she was supposed to be. 

"Eddie, though…"

"Hey!" Eddie snaps, having heard it, somehow, despite talking to Steve at the same time. 

Robin knows Eddie is headed into his third senior year, this time with her class. The rumor mill had been running wild at the end of last year, and it seems to be true, she guesses.

"Well, third time's the charm?" she asks, because what the fuck do you say to that? Sorry you flunked high school, again.

"Here's to hoping," Eddie answers, then turns his attention back to Steve.

Nancy really is gonna kill them if they don't head back, and soon. 

"Steve, Nancy…"

"I know," Steve answers, "let me finish this beer and we're gone."

She nods, because unless she wants to stomp back through the woods all by herself, she doesn't have much choice in the matter. 

Gareth hands her a stick with a marshmallow stuck in the end, and she takes it. She could have a s'more if she has to wait. It's the least they could do, she supposes, and she pokes it into the fire, starting to toast it up.

"Have you ever had one with a Reese's cup?" Gareth asks, holding up the package, an offer.

She hasn't, but now she wants to, for sure, and takes it from his hand, nodding in thanks. 

"You used to work at the theater, right?" he asks.

"Unfortunately," she says.

"I went there a lot," he says.

"Oh, I'm well aware," Robin says, snarky.

And Goodie and Jeff both laugh, and it really wasn't that funny, she doesn't think.

"Haha, she knew you had a crush on her!" Goodie says, poking at Gareth with his roasting stick, as Gareth tries to bat it away.

"How embarrassing for you," Jeff adds, smirking, catching Robin's eye.

He did what now?

"I did not!" Gareth screeches in a way that says he probably, definitely did. 

"I'm sure he didn't," she says, though, cutting him some slack, "If he did, he surely wouldn't have made such a gross mess for me to clean up everyday he was in there, right?"

"See? I was gross," Gareth clings to the accusation, like that's an improvement. Whatever helps him sleep at night.

"Okay, Pig-Pen," Jeff says, and Gareth is flushed. Probably from the embarrassment, but if he's not stupid, he'll play it off as the heat rolling off the sure to be illegal campfire.

Goodie laughs at the taunting, and she is so distracted that she almost burns her marshmallow, but she pulls it out and blows the flame out, just leaving a nice char. Sweet. Just how she likes them.

She puts the peanut butter cup on the graham cracker, and places the warm marshmallow on top, covers it with the other cookie, and is just squeezing it all together into a gooey mess when Steve leans over her shoulder and plucks it right out of her hand, taking a bite.

"Bad dingus, no!" she snaps, but just starts the process to toast another marshmallow. It'll be much easier to do that than fight for her original one from Steve's mouth. And she knows where that mouth has been, so no thank you.

"Thanks, Rob," Steve says, and she grumbles in response, but Gareth, Jeff and Goodie all laugh. Eddie is too busy plucking away at his guitar again, and he really doesn't sound half-bad.

She makes her second s'more, they say their thank yous and goodbyes, and start walking back towards their own campsite.

"So, what was that?" she asks, looking over at Steve, but it's really too dark now to see any of his features.

"What was what?" he asks, and it sounds like he honestly doesn't know.

"Whatever that was with Eddie?"

"What was? He's Eddie "The Freak" Munson, it was nothing," he says, and it doesn't sound like he's lying. Is he unaware he was flirting? Is that even possible?

She weighs her options. She's really gonna need more data. Maybe they'll cross paths again with Eddie Munson, and she'll be able to suss it out better.

"Nothing, I guess," she answers, and he just nods like he's not the least bit curious about what she meant.

Nancy and Jonathan are waiting at the edge of the campsite, and Nancy has a flashlight in hand. When she sees them approaching, she shines it right into their eyes.

"Jeez, Nance, put that thing down," Steve says, shielding his eyes from the onslaught of light, as Robin does the same over her own eyes.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Nancy asks, hands on her hips and she looks just like Steve, like that. It makes Robin smile.

"Bears. Checking for bears," Steve says.

"Well, either those bears threw shit at you in self-defense, or you have chocolate smeared all over your faces," Nancy declares, oh so dryly.

They both reach up to wipe at their faces, licking their lips.

"That's what I thought," Nancy accuses.

"Steve heard a guitar, it was Eddie Munson and his friends. They had s'mores," Robin caves, admitting to everything. Well, almost everything. 

"You ate s'mores? From Eddie Munson?" Jonathan asks, then mumbles under his breath, "Wonder what those were laced with?"

Robin stills, she doesn't want to be drugged again, no way, but then laughs. She'd opened the candy herself, and unless Eddie had the forethought to lace the marshmallows or graham crackers, it seems unlikely.

And she's pretty sure Eddie's reputation is more bark than bite, anyway.

The kids must hear them talking, because they cause a commotion coming over, Dustin getting right into Steve's face.

"Back off, Henderson," Steve says, holding him by both shoulders, pushing him away.

"I smell beer! Steve's been drinking beer while in charge of us!" Dustin screams, and the other kids just look at him like he's lost his mind.

"So?" Lucas asks.

"Can I have one?" Mike tries, and Nancy and Steve both snap no at the same time, and he turns sullen.

"I had one beer, to be nice. To be friendly. Just to make sure we won't be, you know, messed with, or any of that dumb shit," Steve argues, hands waving.

"Sure, sounds likely," Dustin says, like the sarcastic little shit that he is. 

"Well, that's what happened," Steve says, not rising to Dustin's bait, at least not yet.

"And just who did you have this beer with?" Dustin demands to know, hands on his hips. Have they all picked up this gesture from Steve? It's looking likely, at this point, and Robin worries for herself that she might be doing it without realizing. The horror.

"Eddie Munson," Steve says.

"Eddie Munson!" Dustin screeches, "He runs the Hellfire Club at the high school!"

"Yeah, yeah, I've heard," Steve says, resting his hand on the top of Dustin's head, ruffling his hair through his hat, "I put in a good word for you guys."

"No way, did you really?" Dustin asks, looking up at Steve, awed.

"I did, I told him to look for you in the fall. Now leave me be, you little dickhead, and don't make me take it back," Steve answers, and Dustin rushes back towards the other boys, suddenly excited about the prospect of maybe having an in to get into Hellfire Club.

Whatever floats his boat, she supposes.

Robin looks at the tents, and the small, very contained fire Nancy and Jonathan built while they were gone. 

Looking at it now, camping might actually be fun. 

At least for one night, anyway.

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

[penny00dreadful]

Another good day for writing, this time it was Somebody To Love. I needed to write 1,190 words to meet my goal and I've managed 1,265 which is good. Go me!

So here's a lil sneaky peak. 🖤

Hold me accountable!

[withacapitalp]

Tell Him (Nothing) Everything Pt 3

Part One Part Two Link to Ao3

Chapter Three: Three Reunions

“Oh, I’m in so much trouble. I need some help, and I couldn’t think of anyone else to go to. So here I am to bug you again. Congratulations, you get to listen to my problems. Again. Too bad you can’t even stop me!” 

Silence. Nothing but silence. There wasn’t even the sound of birds. 

“I brought you flowers. Violets and white roses. I went to that florist you really liked. I actually know the people that own it now. Well, Steve knows them. Apparently one of their kids is friends with his little brother so he got me a hookup. I didn’t tell him why I needed the flowers, but I think it was okay. He’s good at not asking. It’s nice.” 

Eddie could write a song about this. The quiet, the silence that was both freeing and confining. The way the violets and roses were held together with a soft blue ribbon that matched her eyes. 

It wouldn’t be like any other song he wrote, but that was good. A song for Chrissy was going to have to be special, maybe the most important one he ever sang. 

“I haven’t told you about him. Steve. He lives here in Hawkins, if you can believe that I fell for a small town hick. That’s a joke, and it’s not really that nice. I shouldn’t say that. He’s not a hick. He’s actually really sweet, and thoughtful, and funny, and… He owns a cafe in the middle of town called Claudia’s. I bet you went there when we came home to visit, it’s totally your kind of place. Maybe you even knew him. He’s only a few years younger than us, so you might’ve been in school together or something. You were the Prom Queen, and he was apparently a big time jock. I hope you guys never kissed or anything, that would be so weird.” 

The good thing about going to the cemetery early in the morning was that it was always empty. Eddie was the only person there, so he could sit with his back against Chrissy’s headstone and babble freely without any worries of who might be listening in. 

“I really like him, Chris. Like actually really like him, not just really like him because he’s giving me attention and I’m lonely.”

That was the thing she always worried about. She was viciously protective of Eddie, and she approached every one of his potential partners with high scrutiny over their intentions. 

If only he had done the same. 

The band even had a joke about it. No one Eddie ever went out with got the ‘Chrissy Stamp of Approval’. None of the dozens of men and women who wanted her best friend were good enough for him in her eyes. 

Steve would’ve passed her test. Eddie was sure of it. 

“You know that thing you always told me? About how I was going to find someone who just made things easy? I think I finally did. I’ve been so tired since… since everything, and when I’m with him I’m not tired. I’m- I’m happy. I don’t know if I deserve that. Actually, I know I don’t deserve it, but I am happy. Really happy, Chrissy, which isn’t fair, but it is true.” 

Chrissy would have hated to hear him say that. She never liked when he put himself down. But without her around to check him on that, Eddie’s mind had no reason to stay away from the dark thoughts that lingered on the edges of his psyche. 

“He’s just so kind. He always has time for me, even when things are busy. And he never pushes, even when I can tell he wants to. He’s raising his little brother, who is a huge fan by the way, and he takes care of this entire horde of kids that Dustin is friends with. I’ve never met any of them, but I can just tell they love him as much as he loves them.” 

Eddie could tell by the hand drawn cards that littered the back wall of Claudia’s and the endless photo albums that Steve had on his phone. He could see it in the soft smile Steve wore any time he spoke about any of the kids, and the way he always saved extras of their favorite treats.  

Normally, Eddie was terrified of people with children, petrified by the thought of fucking someone up like his parents had fucked him up. Wayne had healed most of those wounds, but ultimately Eddie had still sworn that he would never have any kids. He even got a vasectomy when he was 19 just to be a hundred percent sure that there would never be an accident. 

Now all he wanted to do was meet Steve’s kids and do a solo show, just to rock their socks off. 

“I can practically hear you in my head. ‘Why not just ask him out already then, Munson?’ Well, he doesn’t know me. I mean he knows me, but he doesn’t know that I’m ‘The Eddie Munson.’” 

He could practically hear her groaning, begging him to come down from his inflated ego trip and realize that he was the same as any other person. 

“I’m not the same as any other person though, Chris. You know what it’s like. Anyone who dates me gets put through the ringer. The paparazzi, the fans, the gossip rags, the YouTube channels, the Instagram stalkers. Steve’s life is so- small isn’t nice to say, but that’s what it is! He has this good little life that he’s carved out for himself and his brother in this small town world, and dating me would implode that. And it’s not like I can just walk away forever. I’m going to have to go back eventually. The band needs me, and the fans need me, and…and I don’t know who I am anymore if I’m not ‘The Eddie Munson’.” 

He was someone Steve liked, he knew that much. They had been flirting pretty much the entire time but since his mini-freakout in the cafe, it had taken on a much more serious air, and their casual touches were starting to linger. 

One of them was going to make a move soon, and Eddie needed to figure out what he wanted before that. 

Well, not what he wanted. He knew what he wanted. He just didn’t know if that was the best option. 

“I wish you were here. You’d know what to do…” 

But she wasn’t. Chrissy wasn’t here. She was in the feeling of strumming a guitar, the sound of rain outside, the smell of Steve’s baking. Chrissy lived in a thousand different ways, she just wasn’t here anymore, and the closest Eddie could get to talking with her was sitting by her grave and talking to the air. 

In other words, he couldn’t talk to her at all. 

“I have to tell him first. I’ll tell him everything, and then I’ll let him decide if he still wants me. Today’s a good day for it anyway, right? It was supposed to be a special day. Now it’s just special for a different reason.” 

With that Eddie stood up, stretching and rubbing at the spots that had gotten locked up from sitting on the ground too long. He put the flowers down where he had just been sitting and lighty ran his fingers over the top of her white marble headstone, reading the same inscription he had read a thousand different times. 

Christiana “Chrissy” Cunningham

December 25th 1996- February 14th 2022

“And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief.”

Wayne had helped him pick it out. He was the one who suggested burying her here in the first place. Chrissy hadn’t had any family left but him and Wayne, and no one would ever look here to disturb her. They had a private funeral and everything, only the two of them and the rest of the band. Not another living soul knew where she was buried, and Eddie wanted to keep it that way. 

After everything, Chrissy deserved a place to rest where no one would ever hurt her again. 

Well, he wanted just one more person to know. 

“When Steve knows everything, I’ll bring him here. Then you can give him your ‘Stamp of Approval’.” Eddie whispered, a soft smile flickering across his face as an unexpected gust of wind pressed against his back. 

He didn’t believe in God, or the Devil, or any of the things the world tried to push, but he did believe in Chrissy. She lived, even if she wasn’t here, and when he was able to look past his own grief, he knew she wanted him to live too. 

“Happy Not the Start of Tour Day,” Eddie called back towards her grave as he walked away. He was starving and only a certain man’s beignets would be enough to fill his belly right now. 

And, like Eddie had called upon the God of Beignets himself, Steve was walking towards him just a few rows away, carrying a pink Claudia’s box. The naive part of Eddie was focusing on how cute Steve looked this morning, but the rest of him was instantly on guard. 

How did Steve know he was here?

“I didn’t know you did deliveries,” Eddie called after he had strategically walked about a dozen gravestones away from Chrissy. Just minutes ago he had wanted to show Steve where she was, but now every red flag he had was lighting up. 

Steve looked up when he heard Eddie’s voice, furrowing his brow and quirking his head to the side. 

“Eddie?” 

If he was putting on an act, then he was doing a very good job of being completely confused as to why Eddie was in the cemetery too. 

“In the flesh,” Eddie said coolly, jamming his hands into his pockets and inching a little bit closer, still keeping a safe distance away. He had put his trust in Steve so far, but maybe that was a mistake. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” Steve echoed, staying right where he was. 

“I asked you first,” Eddie challenged.

“I’m uh, visiting someone,” Steve said after a hesitant pause, playing with the twine bow on the top of the box. 

The hesitation was another red flag, but Steve’s body language was the thing that really set Eddie on edge. His shoulders were hunched, and it looked like he was trying to make himself small enough to disappear. Worst of all, his eyes were downcast, which meant Eddie couldn’t get a read on them. 

Steve was an open book, but only when Eddie could actually see that book well enough to read it. Currently he could only get half the story, but it wasn’t a good half. 

“I would hope you’re here to see someone. The only other explanation is that you’re stalking me,” Eddie said bluntly. There were only a few things to do with stalkers: Ignore them, which was a bad plan; Get a restraining order, which was a bad plan; Confront them, which was a bad plan. 

There were only bad plans in this scenario and anxiety was starting to press down on Eddie’s chest, making it hard to breathe. 

“Because you’re someone people are always stalking,” Steve said with a roll of his eyes. The casual bitchiness that Eddie usually loved was now a threat, and he bristled at the comment. By his count, Eddie had gone through at least twenty three stalkers, and those were just the ones that had been serious enough to merit intervention. He had no idea how many people were actually stalking him at any given time. 

And if Steve was number twenty four, then Eddie might really just stop trusting people all together. 

“Seriously, why are you here?” Eddie asked, trying his best to stay calm. 

“Dustin had food poisoning yesterday, so we couldn’t come see her. I asked Heather to look after the store for me while I came to bring these. I don’t really like coming here, but Dustin is adamant that a sweet tooth is eternal, so we have to bring her treats,” Steve explained, holding up the box with an affectionate roll of his eyes. 

That sealed the deal. It wasn’t often that Chrissy got on camera or took the spotlight, but she had been a frequent face on Eddie’s instagram, usually for food pics when they went out. He even had a story that was called ‘Chrissy’s Confectionaries’ just for all the candids he had of every dessert they had shared. 

But how did they find her? How did they know she was here? 

This was supposed to be a safe resting place. It was supposed to be sacred. Now it was destroyed the way everything was. There was nothing secret, nothing that didn’t belong to the world. This was supposed to be the one special place no one would ever bother her again. 

“How do you find out where Chrissy is?!” Eddie demanded, stomping over and getting right in Steve’s face. Steve was pretty, and Eddie thought he was nice, but this was an absolute violation of trust and privacy, and he would not let Steve think it was okay just because his little brother wanted to do it. 

If he even had a brother.   

“Chrissy? Who’s- Eddie I…I’m here to visit my mom,” Steve stuttered out, grief coating every word in sticky black tar. He stepped back, clutching the box close to his chest with one hand and gesturing down to the headstone between them with the other. 

It was a solid granite headstone, a soft red that stood out in the early morning sun. There were yellow tulips planted on either side of it along with a bunch of rocks, a few metal angels, and some tiny cat figurines sitting on the ledge. It was the words that caught Eddie’s eye though. 

Claudia Marie Honore Henderson

November 11th 1979 - October 28th 2019

If pies were books,

Yours would be Shakespeare’s letters.

Eddie read it once, then twice, then a third time. 

Still there. This was still real. 

“Wow,” Eddie whispered, blowing out a harsh breath before letting out one incredulous laugh and pushing his hair away from his face. “I am a complete and total douchebag.” 

A small smile broke through the hurt expression on Steve’s face and he gently nudged his shoulder against Eddie’s with silent forgiveness. 

“Not complete and total, but I’ll give you two douchebag points,” Steve joked, lowering himself down to kneel on the grass in front of Claudia’s grave and patting the spot next to him, “You can share these with me to make it up.” 

Eddie sat down quickly, crossing his legs so they wouldn’t bounce and looking at her grave again. There was nothing on Chrissy’s but the flowers he brought with him. Before, Eddie had thought it was kind of classy. The smooth blank white marble with nothing but the words he and Wayne had chosen. 

Now it felt almost barren, empty, missing the homey touches that Claudia’s grave had. Claudia’s showed how well loved she was, personal things that still made her real. Chrissy’s was just empty. 

“Not pie?” Eddie asked as Steve untied the string and opened the box to reveal three tiny brown cakes with dollops of whipped cream and drizzles of caramel sauce on top. 

“She chose that quote, not me,” Steve replied, handing Eddie a napkin and a cake. He chose one for himself and put the last one in between the angels and the cat figurines. 

Eddie bit into the dessert, automatically closing his eyes and savoring the flavor. It was spicy and sweet, ginger and brown sugar colliding on his tongue in an explosion of deliciousness. The caramel stuck to his lips, messy and oh so good. 

It would be his favorite thing yet if Steve didn’t look so miserable. 

“I never make pies anymore,” Steve murmured, not touching his own cake. He was staring off somewhere in the distance, lost where Eddie couldn’t seem to reach him. “They just don’t taste the same.” 

Eddie knew that feeling. He had it every time he picked up a guitar now. He could play a song perfectly, hit every note at the exact moment he was supposed to, but it didn’t sound the way it should. Music was almost hollow now, a missing element that he couldn’t find no matter how much he practiced. 

He briefly considered telling Steve, empathizing with the loss, sharing the secrets that were weighing him down. 

“Henderson?” He asked instead, hoping that changing the subject would draw them both away from their thoughts. 

“That’s um,” Steve trailed off, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth and staring down at his lap. Eddie’s heart ached for him and he briefly hated himself for the foot that had apparently taken up a permanent residence in his mouth. 

“Steve, you don’t have to tell me anything, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay, I want you to know.” Steve said softly, cutting Eddie off. He still didn’t look up, but some of the tension in his shoulders faded. “It’s a really long story though, so maybe another time?” 

“Whenever you want,” Eddie offered, taking the leap and reaching over to take Steve’s hand. Steve looked up with glossy eyes, squeezing his fingers and brushing his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand. 

“And Chrissy?” Steve asked hesitantly. 

Eddie could tell him. They could sit here for the whole morning talking back and forth, sharing those long stories. He had planned to tell Steve the truth today anyway. Now was the perfect time. He just had to open his mouth and start. 

“Also a really long story,” Eddie sighed, mentally screaming at himself. 

He was such a coward sometimes. 

“Whenever you want,” Steve echoed, bringing their joined hands up and kissing the back of Eddie’s hand. It was a bold move, the boldest either of them had gotten so far, but it only cemented what they both already knew. Whatever was going on between them was more than just friendship, for both sides. 

Eddie could pull away now, and maybe that would even be the smart thing to do. In the long run, they would both only get hurt by this, so maybe he should just stop it right here and now. 

Instead, he scooted over so they were sitting leaned against each other, putting their hands in his lap and tapping a melody on Steve’s arm as he finally picked up his cake and began eating it. 

Steve apparently didn’t talk to Claudia like Eddie talked to Chrissy. He just sat with his eyes shut, taking the moment to breathe deep and be present. Normally, Eddie hated silence, needing to fill it with music or words or just about anything, but this was peaceful, nice even. The sunshine that Chrissy now lived in kept them warm, and the breeze that held her spirit brushed past them, and Eddie could just hold the moment instead of needing to understand it. 

He wasn’t sitting by her but he was close enough, and he had Steve, so things were okay. 

“Let’s go back to the cafe, huh?” Steve said after a while, gently butting his head against Eddie’s. “I’ll make you a coffee.” 

“I want a decaf nonfat white mocha with extra caramel chunks and oatmilk,” Eddie joked. Steve groaned, standing up and holding out a hand.

Every day there were at least three or four people that came in with absolutely ridiculous coffee orders, and every day Steve and Eddie would try and decide what the most outlandish one was. Eddie tried to get Steve to be grateful, because LA had about thirty or forty thousand people who had orders like that, but Steve always just gave him the stink eye and said that no one should be asking him for oatmilk in Hawkins, Indiana. 

Sure, he had it, but it was the principle of the thing. 

“Bye Claudia,” Steve said as they straightened up, “Me and Dustin are being safe. I promise.” 

“Don’t worry he’s got me to protect him. Well, me to call 911 if anything goes wrong,” Eddie amended, giving the headstone a two fingered salute. Steve laughed his first real laugh of the day, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he tugged Eddie away by their still connected hands. 

They continued to hold hands for the entire walk from the cemetery to the cafe, chatting about nothing and everything in the way they always did. By the time they were turning the corner towards Claudia’s, both of them were extremely relaxed, free of any tension or stress that might have lingered if they went on their own. 

“Hey! Eddie!” 

Nevermind. Eddie was rigid as a board. 

“Who’re they?” Steve asked, tilting his head to the side as he looked at the three men sitting at one of the tables in front of his cafe. 

“No one,” Eddie blurted out, pulling his hand away from Steve’s and bouncing on his heels, filled to the brim with nervous energy, “On second thought I think I might skip coming today. And tomorrow. And maybe next week.”

“Eddie-” 

Steve didn’t get a chance to say anything else before there was a body slamming directly into Eddie, the smell of Gareth’s cologne overwhelming his senses.

An unexpected hit of homesickness came right along with him and Eddie found himself holding onto Gareth in a death grip, burying his face in his oldest friend’s shoulder and shaking ever so slightly in his grip. Jeff and Frank quickly pushed themselves into the hug, and for the first time in months the part of Eddie’s heart that belonged to his bandmates quietly slotted back into its place. 

“It’s been 84 years,” Gareth groaned after their way too long hug, holding onto Eddie’s upper arms and shaking him. “Never again man, never again. I can’t be stuck with these two sticks in the mud for that long. It’s been so boring.”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked for the second time that day, in much higher spirits than he had been the first time, “I told you guys not to try and find me.”

“Well maybe if you answered your phone every so often we wouldn’t have to go halfway across the country chasing you,” Jeff scolded lightly, Frank nodding sagely along with him. 

“How did you even know where I was?” Eddie asked, wracking his brain. The answer immediately popped into his mind and Eddie’s eyes narrowed. 

“Wayne,” He grumbled. Curse his big-hearted, too good, meddling, loving uncle. 

“Eddie, we knew you would be here without him telling us,” Frank said with a roll of his eyes, “But when we dropped our stuff off at the house, he said to go to the bakery in town because the cute guy you’re obsessed with owns it.”

The other two broke into smirks, and all three turned to look at Steve with mischievous grins. 

“I hate you guys,” Eddie said, blushing furiously and wishing that the ground would open up to swallow him whole. 

“Obsessed, huh?” Steve said. His cheeks were dusted with a rosy rouge, but his eyes were locked onto Eddie’s, and he was wearing a very cute, very annoying, smug little smile. 

“He is pretty cute,” Jeff said in mock appraisal. 

“Cute enough to completely blow off a country wide-” 

“Steve, these are my friends. Gareth, Jeff, and Frank,” Eddie said, cutting Gareth off before he could say anything else. “Guys, this is Steve, my…”

Eddie trailed off, unsure of how to end that sentence. Friend? Crush? Something more? 

“Employer,” Steve decided for him, holding out his hand for the rest of the band to shake. 

“Employer?!” Jeff practically shouted as Gareth took Stvee’s hand and began wrenching it up and down. 

“You don’t pay me?” Eddie asked, just as stunned as the rest. Steve had just kissed his hand not even a full hour ago, and that was the word he chose to explain them?  

Employer?!

“You sit in my cafe all day long eating and drinking for free. I think that I deserve at least a little manual labor in return,” Steve said in explanation, giving Eddie a full shit eating grin. 

Oh. He was being messed with. Eddie snorted, holding back his laughter as he tried to give Steve a dirty look. Judging by the way Steve was slowly graduating to a full on beaming smile, he was failing pretty spectacularly.

“I am so confused,” Frank said from behind them. “Eddie, he does know that-”

“Well, Mr. Bossman,”  Eddie quickly interjected, throwing his friends a look that told them to shut their mouths or face the consequences, “Would you pretty please feed my friends while we catch up a little bit?” 

Steve, never one to do anything half-assed, brought out enough mini-quiches to feed an army, an entire tray of ginger cakes, and even some of Eddie’s favorite coconut cluster cookies. The rest of the band had apparently been traveling all night long, and they dug into the food with glee, praising Steve until the tips of his ears were red and he had to walk inside to ‘make coffee’ just to escape the flood of compliments. 

The perfect time for Eddie to come clean. 

“What do you guys think?” He asked, softly opening the question up to his best friends. They were the make or break now that Chrissy couldn’t be. 

“He seems nice,” Frank said politely. 

“He’s a great fucking cook,” Gareth said less politely, picking up the crumbs left on his plate. Jeff rolled his eyes and turned to Eddie. 

“How long have you been dating?”

Great. They were jumping straight into the hard questions. 

“We aren’t,” Eddie said slowly, making all three of them stop short and stare at him with increasingly incredulous looks. 

“Well, I assumed the employer thing was a joke but now I have to ask,” Jeff said, sighing deeply before continuing, “Are you banging your boss?”  

“No!” Eddie immediately shouted, shutting his mouth with a snap and shooting his gaze towards the inside of the cafe. 

Steve was futzing around with something on the counter and either hadn’t heard Eddie’s shout or had ignored it, too used to Eddie’s tendency to be as loud as possible. The tip of his tongue was poking out of the corner of his mouth as he carefully placed caramel drizzle on some concoction he was preparing. 

God, he looked so fucking delectable. Now that the thought of banging was there, he couldn’t escape it. The thought of what that tongue might do-

No. Nope. Stop. 

Eddie was so weak. 

“We’re not- I don’t- it’s not like that,” He finished weakly, groaning and letting his head rest on the table in front of him. 

“Have you asked him out?” Gareth asked. 

Eddie shook his head, keeping his forehead still pressed down against the metal. A brief pause from above him as the band had a silent conversation, and Frank spoke in a very hesitant tone. 

“Does he know?” 

‘Does he know’ was such a blank statement. Does he know you have feelings? Eddie was pretty sure he did. Does he know that you watched your best friend die? No. Does he know why you’re in Hawkins? No. 

But Eddie knew what they were asking. 

Does he know that you are ‘The Eddie Munson’?

He shook his head again ever so slightly. 

“He doesn’t know you’re a world famous rockstar?!” Gareth burst out. Eddie’s head flew back up and he gave Gareth a death glare. 

“Keep your voice down!” He hissed, looking back in the cafe. Steve was still by the counter, now ringing up a little old lady, giving her a gentle smile as he handed over a pretty pink box. 

“Does he live under a rock?” Frank asked, staring at Steve through the window like he was from another planet. 

“Be less obvious,” Eddie complained, rubbing at his temples. “He doesn’t live under a rock. He lives in Hawkins fucking Indiana and he hates social media. Steve barely even uses his Instagram, and that’s only to look at pictures of his best friend who’s traveling the world right now as a guitar player on some lesbian cruise.” 

Remembering all that truly was a testament to how much Eddie liked Steve. He had never laid eyes on Robin Buckley, but he already knew she was Steve’s other half; she co-owned the cafe, she spoke five languages, and she played four instruments- one of which was guitar, hence the whole ‘running away for three months to play guitar on a lesbian cruise’. 

Chrissy would have adored her. 

“You have to tell him, Eddie,” Jeff said softly, giving Eddie a look. “He can’t find out from tabloids or paparazzi or something. It’s a miracle no one’s recognized you yet.”

“I know. I know. I’ve tried,” Eddie said, slightly desperate. He ran his fingers through his hair, pulling on the end of his curls. “I tried more than once, but every time it gets close I just-”

Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, and the next breath he sucked in was unexpectedly shaky. 

Fuck. 

“If I tell him, then I have to tell him everything,” Eddie said, his voice breaking into a whisper halfway through, “and I can’t- I don’t know how-”

“That’s why we came here, even though we knew you didn’t want us,” Frank said, cutting off Eddie’s weak attempts at explaining himself. 

“Because of Steve?” Eddie asked. 

“Because of Chrissy,” Jeff clarified, making the lump in Eddie’s throat grow three times bigger. “Today was supposed to be the day.” 

The day. The start of their big tour. The tour that was going to lead to a new album, that was going to get them that Grammy, that would put Corroded Coffin in the history books forever. 

The tour that Eddie had completely screwed up. 

“Guys… I’m sorry,” Eddie started, getting cut off by Jeff’s hand on his arm and Gareth shaking his head. 

“Don’t start down that road, man. Once you let that monkey on your back, you’ll never get it off,” Frank said easily, spitting wisdom like it meant nothing to him. “She was your best friend.” 

Best friend. What a stupid way to categorize Chrissy. Steve said Robin called him her platonic soulmate, which felt better, but not quite right. Steve just called Robin His Person. His Person, always in a way that you could physically feel the capitalization. 

His Person. 

Chrissy had been His Person. 

“I can’t talk about her yet,” Eddie admitted quietly, feeling shame and smallness covering him like wings. “Hell, I can barely even say her fucking name.” 

“You needed time. We were happy to give it to you,” Jeff said, pulling Eddie down off the cross he kept trying to nail himself to. 

“But seriously, stop shutting us out. We miss her too,” Gareth tacked on, rubbing fruitlessly at his eyes. He had always been a sympathy crier, and even the hint of any of them breaking down sent him into tears. “We miss you, dude.”

Eddie had missed them too. He hadn’t realized it, but the entire time he had been in Hawkins, he had been looking for them. His bandmates had been with him since they were teens, all of them scared and unsure of the future, but so full of hope it hurt to look back and think about it. They had put their faith in him, and he put his trust in them, and they had made something amazing. 

Something Eddie had pushed away the second he could, because he was so sure he didn’t deserve good things, so sure the universe would take them away anyway. 

Maybe that was why he couldn’t tell Steve yet. 

“And if you don’t lock this guy down, I’ll be missing his amazing goddamn quiches too,” Gareth said after they had all taken a second to cool down. He lifted the last one up and shoved it into his mouth in one bite, immediately coughing as he choked. 

“Chrissy would want you to be happy, Eddie,” Jeff said softly as Frank pounded on Gareth’s back trying to dislodge the pastry. “If Steve is gonna make you happy, she would say go for it.” 

“I know,” Eddie replied just as quietly. He had said the same thing to himself a dozen times, but hearing it from Jeff somehow made it even more real.  

Speaking of Steve, he was walking over with a full tray of drinks. 

“Alright I have one black coffee, one latte with a pump of hazelnut syrup and skim milk, and one iced matcha latte,” Steve rattled off as he put down drinks in front of Eddie’s bandmates. He paused after Jeff, giving Eddie a tricky little grin and putting down a colossal cup that was dripping whipped cream onto the saucer it was on. 

“And for you, a decaf nonfat white mocha with extra caramel chunks and oatmilk,” Steve declared, both of them breaking into giggles at the sight of the monstrosity. 

Just like that the weight that had been holding every single cell captive was gone, erased by the light that Steve brought with him everywhere he went. 

“This is disgusting,” Eddie said after taking an experimental sip. 

Steve slid into the open seat next to him, dipping his finger into the whipped cream and dabbing Eddie’s nose before licking it up. This led to an inevitable war of whipped cream till they were both sticky with caramel and laughing breathlessly, the rest of Corroded Coffin watching silently. 

“Hey Steve,” Gareth said, catching the younger boy’s attention, “Wanna go on a date with Eddie tonight?”

It was like the very air stopped still. 

“I’m sorry?” Steve asked, his voice raising up about five octaves. Eddie placed his palms flat on the table, giving his former best friend a triple layer death glare. 

“Gareth!” Eddie hissed.

“You’re being a baby bitch about it,” He said, shrugging unapologetically and looking far too casual for the absolute chaos he was creating. 

“Eddie thinks you're nice and hot,” Frank tacked on. Eddie let out what could only be described as a primal screech, mentally preparing to murder his bandmates right after Steve got up and ordered them all to leave his cafe and never return. 

“He’s scared to make the first move, so we’re making it for him,” Jeff stated, driving the final nail into Eddie’s coffin. “Please go out with him. He’s a mess and he needs someone who can force him to eat a vegetable every once in a while.” 

“Oh my god,” Eddie said quietly to himself, burying his face in his hands. He was going to have to throw himself into the Quarry, or let a semi run him over. There was no coming back from this. None. 

“Eds?”

He didn’t want to look up. He just wanted to just stay right here until he actually turned to stone. Maybe he could. Maybe he just never needed to move again. 

But he did look up, because it was Steve, and Eddie was a total goner for him. 

“Are your friends fucking with me, or do you actually want to go on a date?” Steve asked shyly, looking at Eddie with those stupid big eyes that made him want to give Steve the entire goddamn world. 

He couldn’t give him the whole world. That wasn’t possible. But, Eddie could give him the truth.

Or, he could give Steve a part of the truth, at least.

“I actually want to go on a date,” Eddie admitted, taking the leap. He wrapped a curl around his finger and chewed nervously on his ring, unable to look Steve in the eye. “But only if you want to, I mean.” 

There was a full fifteen seconds of silence in which Eddie was sure he was going to lose his mind. Then a gentle hand pressing at his jaw, turning his head so he was looking Steve in the eye. 

“Well, I have to check that Joyce can watch Dustin, but if it’s okay, why don’t you meet me at The Hawk tonight at 7:00. I’ll get the tickets if you buy the popcorn?” He offered, cheeks a deep red. 

“Sounds good,” Eddie agreed breathlessly, feeling his heart attempt to leap straight out of his chest and into Steve’s hands. 

“Then it’s a date,” Steve said, biting on his lip to try and hold back the huge smile trying to make its way onto his face. “I’m gonna get you a real coffee.” 

Steve was up and gone in the blink of an eye, practically flying into the cafe and disappearing into the back despite all of the coffee supplies being right up front. Eddie watched him go, dazed and shocked as the rest of his bandmates shared victorious high fives and happy whoops. 

“What just happened?!” Eddie practically screamed the second his brain came back online. 

Tags: @dangdirtydemons @excaliburstark

[nonbinary-eddie-munson]

The only cannon I'll accept out of Eddies book is unnamed Freak 1 finally getting a name like he deserves

[italiansteebie]

this was only supposed to be a paragraph im sorry

It was what Eddie so eloquently deemed “Prep Night.” The rest of Corroded Coffin thought it was kind of stupid, but entertaining, at least. 

It was almost show time, and in came the hundreds of fans dressed in their nerd garb, with hints of their regular fashion popping through the tattoos and piercings that littered their bodies. 

It wasn’t until halfway through the show did Eddie notice him. Soft wispy hair, thin framed glasses, and a soft yellow sweater that Eddie so desperately wanted to take off. It wasn’t a big show, 200 fans maximum, and the more intimate venues allow for some crowd work. And with sweet cheeks pressed up against the barricade, he knew just who he was going for.

—--

Steve walked into the venue, heart thrumming as he made his way to his spot against the barricades. Dustin was hot on his heels, Corroded Coffin being the first band that introduced him to the metal scene. To his surprise, none other than jock, Steve Harrington, loved the band too. He says jock with love of course, the guy had been his babysitter for forever, so, who better to go to the concert with him? 

They were practically shaking with excitement, once in their places at the barricade, Steve manages to finally take a look around. “Hm. Not what I expected people to be dressed like at a CC concert…” Dustin snorts at this. He’d seen the “Prep Night” flier on instagram, and happened to forget to tell Steve about it. But it doesn’t matter, he fits right in. The crowd was buzzing, “Oh, yeah! It’s Prep Night!” Dustin yelled over the noise, and right as Steve was about to reply, the house lights dropped, in lieu of a reply, an excited scream ripped through Steve’s throat.   

They’d made it through half of the show, ribs pressed against the metal, it hurt, but the music made all the pain worthwhile.  

“What’s up, Indiana?!” 

A wall of cheers responds. 

“What an amazing turn out for our annual prep night! Woo!!”

From the stage Eddie watched as yellow sweater screamed. ‘He really went all out for tonight,’ Eddie thought as his gaze locked on him. He watched as he screamed, shaking the guy beside him by his shoulders. That’s when he caught the flash of silver poking through his tongue, and Eddie almost dropped to his knees. He’d been looking for the guys' metal scene fashion sense and hadn't been able to catch it until now. He almost regrets looking for it. Almost. 

Eddie shook himself back into the frontman role. “Now! One of you… Really nailed it for prep night. And lucky for you, tonight we celebrate it!” 

The crowd cheered louder than it had all night, a surprising feat from the already deafening noise level. Eddie smirked, gaze returning to yellow sweater, “Will the man with the fluffy hair, in the yellow sweater PLEASE, come up on stage?” He watched as his mouth dropped, the kid besides him screaming, twin smiles across their faces. 

The crowd screams again as yellow shirt is helped up on stage by a security guard. It was no secret to their fans that Eddie is gay, and with yellow sweater in such close proximity, he just couldn’t help himself. “Damn, gorgeous.” This time he did fall to his knees, holding a hand up towards yellow sweater, catching his red cheeks in the stage lights. He brings the mic close to his lips, “What’s your name, baby?” Eddie hands him the mic, “It’s Steve,” his voice comes out breathless and Eddie struggles to rise to his feet. 

“Give it up for Steve!” 

Eddie’s been handed another microphone, “Congratulations on winning Prep night, I gotta say…” Eddie’s eyes flick up and down taking in Steve’s whole look. “You really nailed it, you look like you dress like this every day.” Steve laughs, holding his own microphone up to his lips, “I do!” He cheers. 

And Eddie thought he was intoxicating, but Steve. Damn. The crowd went wild for this prep, and he couldn’t blame them. 

And if Eddie was dead before, he was in heaven now, because Gareth and the guys had started the next song, and Steve had taken it upon himself to sing in Eddie’s place. And fuck. He was good. 

Style really means nothing because Steve was going wild on the stage, ending note ringing out as he landed on his knees, chest heaving, eyes flicking around the crowd, a tinny smile spreading across his face as he held his arms out. 

Shaken from his state, Eddie saunters over to Steve, smirking as his arms drop to his sides. Eddie places a finger under his chin, lifting it ever so that Steve is looking into his eyes. “Wait for me in my dressing room after the show,” He tells him, smirking as he tries to subtly adjust his pants. 

Oh yeah, this is gonna be fun. 

[corrodedcoffinfest]

Prompt #3 - Best Friends

Who are the best friends in the band in your head? Let's find out.

Get those submissions in by 11:59 PM EDT tonight!

Be sure to tag @corrodedcoffinfest and feel free to use the hashtag #corrodedcoffinfest.

This will blog will comment with a 🦇 when your fic has been checked for word count and queued for reblogging.

[slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction]

Chapter 11, Pre-Game, of Two guys, a girl, and a cheerleader

Chapter Summary:

Chrissy needs some cheering up so Eddie suggests a Game Night

Notes:

Oh yes, it's time for my version of NG's True American. Well... nearly time. We have a meet and greet and explanation of the rules first *and then* we'll get to the game and all the good stuff that comes with it >:)

I'm behind a little on writing, so the game chapter *may* come this weekend, or I'll make ye wait till next week to buy me some time LMAO

He could feel her eyes on him, could feel the oxygen slipping out of the room and his chest caving in at the pressure of the words that begged to escape his lips – Me! I’m here! Pick me! But that urge to say what was on his mind always made him stumble at the last hurdle, and yet again he opted for the verbal pratfall – the joke – to save face, like he always did.

“I could always put your number in the men’s toilets at the Wy if you wanted.”

“Eddieeeeee,” she laughed, freeing her hand and lightly smacking the back of his.

The spell broken, he looked up and grinned.

“Thank you. You always know how to cheer me up.”

“Any time, princess.”

He looked out the window, his face going slack as a thought occurred to him. “You know what would cheer you up?”

“Whaaaaat,” she said warily. Oh she definitely knew him well because he was pretty sure he had a look in his eye that spelled trouble.

He turned to her and narrowed his eyes. “What do you think of Game Night?”