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hippiegoth97 · 3 months ago

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 22

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 21

Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight

@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafescurtainbangz @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer

@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx

@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @usergeta @cometzombie

@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery

@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive

@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever

@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny

@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust

@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, mentions of sexual harassment, light smut/teasing, alcohol use, light angst, anxiety, stage-fright

Word Count: 10.5k

divider by @strangergraphics

Part 22: Shake the Disease

Saturday, June 24th, 1989

The rest of Tommy's first week at The Hawk goes as well as one can expect. He's thankfully paired with Jamie every day to spare you and Eddie from having to deal with him directly. Although you pity Jamie for having to put up with his shitty attitude and careless behavior. Despite Mr. Biggs doing everything in his power to keep Tommy away from you, the jerk has still managed to find plenty of ways to get on your nerves. He makes little comments to you in passing, perpetually smirking through it all. He takes every opportunity to brush his shoulder against yours, or put his hands on your waist to move you out of his way. He also calls you little pet names, like 'sweet thing' and 'babygirl'. It's seriously nauseating, but you don't even bother to respond.

Eddie has offered to kick his ass for you multiple times, but you just tell him it's fine. Tommy's an idiot, and there's no way you're putting your jobs at risk over petty bullshit. If it comes down to it, you'll handle Tommy yourself. But you figure that the best course of action is to ignore him, give no reaction to his 'advances', if you can even call them that. He'll get bored soon enough, and inevitably move on to hitting on young female patrons instead. He'll need to get his dick wet sometime, and he's obviously not going to wait around for you forever. You're sure of it.

Tonight, though, is a pretty special night. You're going to Saturday karaoke at the Hideaway with your friends. It's kind of a 'triple-date', if you will. You and Eddie, obviously, Robin and Steve (platonically), and Nancy is tagging along with Jonathan who's come to town for a couple of weeks. You're very excited to spend some time with people your own age, you don't really get to do this very often. Most of Hellfire is Dustin's age or younger, and it's kind of a mixed bag at the theater. And beyond that, you've got...your mother. You don't have anything against these particular groups or individuals, but you aren't necessarily going to make them your drinking buddies, either.

"C'mon, angel. We're running late." Eddie says from behind you, watching as you're tediously applying mascara in your bedroom mirror.

"Since when do you care about punctuality, Eds?" You ask with a laugh, putting the mascara wand back into its tube. You drop it into the little bowl on your vanity, using your hands to fluff up your hair a bit. You've put in some extra effort into your appearance tonight. As it's already been said, you don't get out much. You inspect yourself closely in your reflection, checking for any imperfections. Your makeup is flawless, not a hair out of place. You smooth down your black leather miniskirt, and adjust your breasts through the Iron Maiden t-shirt you stole from Eddie's closet. You've got it pulled tight against your torso, having tied off the slack into a simple knot at your side.

"Oh, I definitely don't. But you do." He replies with a smirk, getting off your bed to wrap his arms around your waist. Your hands go to rest over his, and you smile at one another in the mirror. "You're absolutely gorgeous tonight, by the way. My favorite shirt has never looked better." He says lowly, planting a featherlight kiss on your neck.

"You don't think it's too much? For karaoke, I mean?" You ask, completely unsure if you've overdone it or not. You honestly don't know, but you're terrified of going into the local bar and looking like you're in the wrong place.

"No, sweetheart. You've got the perfect balance of dolled-up and casual, I promise. Either way, you're gonna be the hottest girl in the entire place." Eddie's words make you melt, he always knows exactly what to say.

Your cheeks go rosy, and you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. "Okay, good. And thank you. You're quite dashing yourself, love." You repay the compliment, your eyes scanning over what you can see of his body at this angle. To be fair, Eddie always wears tight jeans with rips in the knees and band shirts that fit his lightly toned torso so fucking perfectly. But what can you say? His style is effortless, and the way he carries himself definitely adds to the appeal. If you didn't have to be at the Hideaway in fifteen minutes, you'd strip him down and have your way with him right now.

"Oh, please. This old thing?" Eddie chuckles, looking down at himself to see what you mean.

"Don't play dumb with me, Eddie. You know you're hot stuff. Or do I not say it enough?" You ask teasingly, turning your head back to look in his eyes.

"You say it plenty, Y/N." He presses a small peck to your lips, before backing away to head for the door. "Now, come on! Let's go get drunk and sing off-key to overplayed songs!" He says excitedly, walking ahead of you into the hallway.

"Jesus, Eds! Wait up!" You call after him, snatching your purse off the dresser as you run after him.

"Well, hurry up then, slowpoke!" He retorts, whipping around to face you as he continues to move towards the front door. He's smiling like an idiot, it seems he's also very happy to hang out with people his own age for once. You chase after him, quickly gaining speed. He continues running with his back to where he's heading, taunting you to catch him. It doesn't take much to catch up to him, he's mostly messing with you. You tackle him onto the carpet of the living room, pinning him down by straddling his lap. Eddie grunts at the impact, and his hands automatically go to your waist. Mom and Dustin just happen to be sitting on the couch as you do so, and you tumbling onto the floor takes them by surprise.

"Jesus christ, sugarpuff! What are you two getting up to now?" Mom asks in a startled tone.

"Oh, sorry. We were just playing around." You reply, quickly getting off of Eddie's lap and fixing your skirt. Eddie joins you, adjusting his hair a little. You'd forgotten they were home, they're both really quiet most of the time.

"Oh, I see." She giggles. "Aren't you supposed to be at karaoke with your friends?" She asks, her eyes flicking to your outfit. You're certainly dressed up, and she thinks you look very pretty.

"Yeah, we were just heading out. Somebody just likes to tease." You reply while playfully elbowing Eddie in the ribs to emphasize your point.

"Ouch! Play nice!" Eddie exclaims in faux offense.

"Oh. Well, have fun, you two." She smiles, she's very happy to see you get out there for once. You've been spending a lot of time in your room with Eddie, or at his trailer. Mom knows how important it is to go out on actual dates and socialize with other people. She was getting a little worried that you've become a bit of a shut-in like her, with Eddie or work as your only real connections to the outside world. She'd made the mistake of adopting this same lifestyle when she married George, and now she feels too socially stunted to try and make friends. She talks to some of the other mothers sometimes, but it never really leads anywhere. But with you and Dustin all grown up now, she realizes she needs to build those relationships to keep herself sane. Maybe she'll invite the Wheelers and Sinclairs over for dinner some night.

"We will, Claudia. And don't worry, I'll make sure Y/N gets home safe." Eddie says, leading you to the door to get your shoes on. You slip some converse on your stockinged feet, and he puts on his usual Reeboks.

"I appreciate it, Eddie." Mom replies, nodding in gratitude. You're just about to walk out the door, when Dustin jogs after you.

"Y/N, wait!" He shouts, stopping you in your tracks with the door wide open.

"What's up, Dusty?" You ask, turning to look at him.

"I was wondering if I could...uh, take the car tonight?" He asks nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Why?" You raise your eyebrow at him.

"Well, I-I've...kinda...got a-a date tonight." He stutters. "And I have to pick her up in an hour." He adds on in a rush, hoping you'll say yes.

"A date, huh? Who with?" You ask quietly, looking behind Dustin to see Mom glancing at your little huddle curiously.

"Elise Grayson, she was in my AP History class. She's really pretty, and smart." Dustin blushes bright red as he describes this girl, shuffling his feet awkwardly while his stomach fills with butterflies.

"Oh, I see. Does Mom know?" You question with a smirk, you know damn well Dustin wouldn't tell her about this so quickly. It sounds relatively new, and it's just cruel to get her hopes up if it doesn't work out.

"No way. And I'd like to keep it that way. It's our first date, and I dunno if it'll even go anywhere. Now, can I please take the car?" He pleads with you, hoping you understand how important this is.

"Okay, okay. Stop giving me the puppy eyes. Have fun, okay? And don't forget to fill up the tank afterwards." You hand over the keys, and Dustin does a little happy dance. Mom's eyebrows knit, wondering what the hell that's about.

"Go get her, tiger. Just don't do anything I wouldn't do." Eddie says, giving Dustin a playful punch in the arm. He pauses, reconsidering his words. "On second thought, don't do anything I would do, either." He chuckles, making you laugh as well.

"That's some choice advice there, Eddie. I think I'll stick to asking Steve for dating tips." Dustin replies sarcastically, though his words make Eddie's face drop slightly.

"Whatever, man. I'm the one with a smokin' hot girlfriend, and Harrington has nada as of late. But we'd better be on our way. We wouldn't wanna miss out on a drunken rendition of "Don't Stop Believin'"." Eddie retorts, putting his arm around your shoulder. You resume your journey outside, and he turns his head to shout one last thing. "Have fun on your date, Henderson!" He calls out, making Dustin's jaw drop.

"What? A date?" Mom pipes up excitedly, and Eddie hurries you both down the driveway to escape the chaos he's just unleashed. You're both laughing the whole way, sliding into your seats and watching Dustin slam the front door shut with Mom hot on his tail. She's no doubt bombarding him with questions about Elise, and possibly attempting to give him the 'sex talk'.

"You're so evil sometimes, Eds!" You say through a cackle, your face turning red from laughing so hard. It's kinda nice to have Mom doting on Dustin instead of you for once.

"The little shit brought it on himself! She was probably gonna find out anyway when he comes home with hickies all over his neck." Eddie snickers, putting the van into gear to head to the bar.

"How do you know he's going to get that far?" You ask curiously, your laughter subsiding.

"Uh, hello? If he's taking King Steve's advice, he's at least getting into make-out territory. It really depends on the girl. Who knows, maybe he'll get lucky!" He nudges you as he rolls down the driveway and gets into the right lane.

"I suppose you're right. I hope he'll be smart about it, at least. Mom will have a cow if that girl ends up pregnant." You reply, your nose scrunching at the thought of talking about your brother's intimate business. "Let's stop talking about this. It's making me nauseous."

"Of course, sweetheart. We can let Steve handle the gory details." Eddie says, his voice stained with jealousy. You decide to let him be on the subject, for now. You don't really understand this unspoken rivalry between him and Steve. You suppose it's because Harrington has always been the 'popular' guy, and Eddie has unfortunately existed as the exact opposite. Not only that, but Dustin does bring up Steve an awful lot. He really looks up to him, and it must be a hit to Eddie's ego to hear his little buddy gushing about some other guy. You wonder if Steve feels the same whenever he hears about Eddie, it's definitely a possibility.

When Eddie pulls into the parking lot of the Hideaway, you notice it's actually pretty busy. Most of the spots are full, with a decent amount of people filing in and out of the door. "Shit, I don't think I've ever seen this place so packed before." You say nervously, counting the cars to estimate just how many people you'll potentially have to sing in front of tonight. The prospect of doing so around Eddie is daunting enough to you, let alone a hypothetical crowd of strangers. All those eyes on you, just waiting for you to mess up. Maybe this is a bad idea.

Eddie glances over at you as he squeezes into a parking spot, finding fear and anxiety painted wildly across your face. "What's the matter, angel?" He asks, wondering why you seem so concerned with how many drunken idiots are here tonight.

"I'm just a little nervous...I guess." You reply meekly, looking away from him as he studies your expression. He kills the engine once he's parked properly, turning to you.

"You don't have to sing, Y/N. You know that, right?" He asks, taking hold of your hands to keep you from picking at your fingers. You face him finally, nodding your head. "It would be quite a shame, though. You've got a beautiful voice, princess." He says sweetly, making you smile.

"I know you think that, Eds. It doesn't mean anyone in there will." You nudge your head towards the bar. Your smile falls at the thought, you can't help picturing every worst-case scenario. Booing, food and drinks being thrown at you, every humiliating thing you can possibly imagine.

"Why does it matter what they think?" He questions, wondering why you suddenly care about anyone's opinion.

"I don't know." You grumble, shrugging your shoulders. You're growing rather frustrated with yourself for overthinking things again. It's been a while since you've done this, and it's certainly not a welcome feeling.

"Sweetheart, bar karaoke isn't about talent. I can guarantee every last asshole in there is going to be way off-key, and get the timing all messed up, maybe even sing the wrong words. It's not nearly as serious as you think it is. It's just something to do for fun, okay?" Eddie kindly explains, trying to put you at ease. He understands your apprehension. Serious or not, performing in front of people can be terrifying. Especially for someone like you, who doubts themselves and gets in their head too much. He hopes a couple drinks will help you to loosen up a little, he would love to hear you sing for him. He enjoys it immensely when you sing along with him to the radio or his mixtapes, you always know all the words to every song. And the way you smile the whole time makes his heart fill with joy and admiration, it's become one of his favorite things about you.

"Okay. Sorry, I'm just psyching myself out." You sigh, kicking yourself for backsliding into old habits.

"It's fine. You haven't done that in a while, I figured you were due sometime." He quips in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Right." You smile weakly, fighting the overwhelming urge to fall even further into the pit you've dug for yourself. You shake your head to push it all away, you just want to have a good time tonight. You take a deep breath, exhaling shakily. "Okay. Let's go. I'm sure the others are waiting for us." You say shortly, taking your hands out of Eddie's grasp and turning to hop out of the van.

"Sure thing, angel." Eddie holds back a sigh. He's worried about you, he feels like you're hiding again. He hates it when you do that, he's shown you so many times that you don't need to. But what's the alternative? You both sit in the van all night and dissect your insecurities for the millionth time? You fall into a fit of tears while he strokes your hair and tells you everything will be okay? He knows you don't want to do that, that for once you just want to be 'normal'. You're a grown woman, and you can afford to step out of your comfort zone every once in a while. He doesn't need to baby you, especially when you're clearly asking him not to tonight.

You land on your feet in the sticky night air, waiting for Eddie to come around the van to join you. He takes your hand, and you both exchange an uneasy smile. Neither of you know how this is gonna go, but you'll work through it together if shit hits the fan. You walk inside the bar, right in the middle of a redneck performing a rather slurred version of "God Bless the USA" with his hand over his heart. An emcee sits in the corner with the sign-up sheet, and you see Steve and the others waving you over to their booth to your left. You point Eddie in their direction, and you quickly make your way over.

"There you guys are! We were worried you got distracted." Robin says cheekily, wagging her eyebrows at you.

"A little, but not in the way you think." You reply to Robin, before looking over at Eddie. "You wanna go to the bar and get our drinks, Eds?"

His eyes meet yours, softening a little as you've already relaxed at finding familiar faces. "Anything for you, love. Jack and Coke alright?" He asks with a grin.

"Mm, yes, please." You reply, leaning in to give him a kiss before sending him on his way. You slide into the booth once Eddie leaves you, sitting beside Robin. Steve is sat across from her, with Nancy and Jonathan boxing him in. "So, have we missed out on you guys going on already?"

"Nope, I think Steve is up soon, though." Robin answers.

"Okay, great. And I'm sorry we're late, I spent a little more time getting ready than I'd expected." You say apologetically, looking down at yourself as you speak.

"It's no big, we haven't been here long." Steve assures you, giving you a kind glance.

"So, what have you guys been up to?" You ask to break the ice..

"Oh, you know us, busy as ever at Family Video." Robin replies jokingly. Steve nods in agreement, taking a sip of his beer.

"God, do you two do anything besides work?" You giggle, drawing laughs from the others.

"Nope! Not a thing!" Robin chirps, slurping down a bit of her cocktail through the tiny straw in her glass.

"Ugh, who would've thought that I of all people would end up a single loser?" Steve says, mostly joking, though his tone is slightly bitter.

"Oh, don't feel too bad, Stevie. I'm stuck in that same boat with you." Robin reaches across the table to pat his hand.

"What about you, Nance? How's life at the Hawkins Post? I hear you're practically running the show over there." You change the subject as Steve has become visibly uncomfortable. You wish you had someone to set him up with, you hate to see him so lonely and miserable. He's a great guy, truly. Any woman would be lucky to have him.

"Oh, I don't know about that..." Nancy replies humbly, stirring her drink in a nonchalant manner.

"There's no need to be so modest, Nance. And you're absolutely right, Y/N. She's the Assistant Editor, working her way to becoming the youngest Editor in Chief in Hawkins Post history." Jonathan gushes on his girlfriend's behalf, giving her a warm smooch on the cheek.

"That's great! I'm very happy for you, Nancy. You work so hard, you totally deserve it." You speak sweetly.

"So, what about you and Eddie?" Jonathan asks, giving you a turn.

"Oh, um, we've been working at the Hawk. It's going really well, except..." You pause, not wanting to be a downer on the evening.

"Except, what? Is it Eddie? Did he do something? I'll kick his ass for you if you want-" Robin starts, gearing up for one of her rants.

"No, no. Nothing like that." You cut her off, shaking your head. "No, me and Eddie are fantastic. But, uh, Tommy Hagan started working at the theater this past Monday." You finish, earning small gasps from everyone else at the table.

"Oh, shit. How's that going?" Steve asks, knowing exactly how much of an ass Tommy is.

"Not great. We...used to go out, so, it's been pretty awful." You say shamefully, bowing your head.

"Oh my god, when!?" Robin exclaims, and the others murmur to coax you into telling them.

"The summer of '86, it was fucking terrible. I had to tell Eddie all about that when Tommy started his first day by being a total jerk. I guess his dad has connections to our boss, so he can't get fired no matter what he does. He keeps...touching me, and calling me pet names. It's sickening, honestly." Your stomach turns as you hear Tommy's voice calling you 'sweet thing' inside your head.

"Does Eddie know about this?" Steve asks, quickly becoming pissed off on your behalf.

"Yeah. He's offered to kick Tommy's ass a few times. But then we'd both be out of a job, and we need the money if we're gonna move in together in a couple months." You pause again, realizing how messed up this all sounds when you say it out loud. You laugh lightly, trying to shrug it off. "But, you know Tommy. He'll get bored at some point and find some other poor girl to bother. I hope so, anyway. Otherwise, I'll kick his sorry ass."

"You'll kick who's ass?" Eddie asks as he returns to the table with your drinks. He slides in beside you, handing you your beverage.

"Tommy's. I was just telling them about our new coworker and his pervy behavior." You reply, taking a large gulp of your drink.

"Oh, right. I fuckin' hate that little creep. I wish Biggs would at least write him up for harassing you." Eddie says angrily, taking a swig from his own glass.

"He isn't even being written up for that? What the fuck?" Robin asks in shock.

"Nope. Because 'dear old daddy' would hear about it and ruin the theater's business." You reply, regretting bringing this up at all.

"That's awful, Y/N. I'm so sorry. Is there anything we can do?" Nancy asks, wishing she could fix this problem for you. No one should have to put up with harassment like this, especially not from a spoiled brat like Tommy Hagan.

"Not really. Unless you wanna write an exposé on Jack Hagan blackmailing the Hawk into keeping his shitty offspring on the payroll." You suggest it as an ugly joke, not meaning it seriously.

"I mean...it would make an interesting story." She says curiously, the wheels turning in her head at the prospect.

"Nancy, no! I was totally joking!" You shake your head, waving your hand to discourage her. "All that would do is get you fired, and put a whole bunch of others in jeopardy of losing their jobs.But, I appreciate the enthusiasm."

"Any time, Y/N. I'm always ready to help out a friend." She says kindly.

"That goes for all of us. If you need anything, we're here for you guys." Steve adds, already coming up with ways to get Hagan off your back.

"Thanks, Harrington. It means a lot." Eddie says with a grateful nod, taking another gulp of his drink. He was hoping Tommy wouldn't come up tonight, he hates wasting a single ounce of brainpower on that little weasel.

In only five days, Tommy's managed to make your workplace a living hell. Everyone absolutely hates him, and he won't stop bugging you, trying to 'win' you back. Eddie finds himself seething with anger during every shift now, watching like a hawk whenever he can to see if Tommy tries to make another move on you. It makes his blood boil to see you so visibly uncomfortable, how you helplessly ignore Hagan at every turn. Eddie wants you to stand up for yourself, to kick and scream and claw the fucker's eyes out, and he can tell you want it, too. But it won't do any good, it'll cost you both your place of employment. And you constantly insist that eventually Tommy will move on, becoming bored of his cruel games. He really, really hopes you're right. He's positive that neither of you can take much more of this.

"Alright, next up to the stage is Steve, singing "Take On Me"!" You hear the emcee speak into the microphone.

"Well, that's me. I still don't understand how I agreed to go first." Steve says, begrudgingly scooting out of the booth once Nancy and Jonathan let him out.

"Because you're basically our leader, dingus. Now get up there and sing your little heart out!" Robin retorts, shooing him away.

"Fuck, this is gonna be bad." Steve groans quietly, heading towards the stage. He steps onto the little platform, the wood creaking under his sneakers. Scattered claps can be heard around the bar as the emcee gives Harrington the mic. Robin whoops for him, and you all watch as he clears his throat, waiting for the music to kick on. The opening notes begin to play, and Steve stares at the little screen in front of him to know when to start. He braces himself, a bead of sweat forming on his brow. He opens his mouth, stuttering the first couple words out. "W-we're talking away, I don't know what I'm to say." His voice comes out quiet, his eyes scanning the room to see who's watching.

"Jesus, he's gonna choke." Eddie states, grimacing slightly at Steve's clumsy start.

"Fuck that." Robin scoffs, climbing clumsily over you and Eddie to stand in Steve's eyeline. She almost knocks your drinks over in the process, hopping onto the floor a moment later. "You got this, Stevie! Come on!" She shouts, drawing a few pairs of eyes to her. Steve smiles at her, nodding as he gains some confidence.

"I'll say it anyway. Today is another day to find you shyin' away. Oh, I'll be comin' for your love, okay." Steve continues to sing, raising in volume and hitting most of the right notes. He ignores the sour tones he utters, focusing on his best friend cheering him on. He fully commits to the chorus, gripping the microphone with certainty. "Take on me...take me on. I'll be gone, in a day or two..." His voice cracks on the end of the final note, making you giggle. You cover your mouth to hide it, Harrington is trying his best.

"Hey now, be nice." Eddie says in your ear, keeping his own chuckles at bay by biting his lip.

"Sorry, I'm trying, I promise." You clear your throat, giving an affirming nod to Steve when he glances curiously at you. You reach for your drink again, taking a large gulp from it. "He's actually doing pretty well." You observe, leaning into Eddie a bit as you watch your friend perform. Steve only gets better as the song goes on, his smile growing wider by the second. He's having the time of his life up there, and you feel a little jealous. Maybe you will sing tonight...maybe.

"Alright! Let's give it up for Steve!" The emcee says once Steve gives the mic back. Cheers and applause erupt from the other patrons, and Steve almost bows, before deciding against it. He steps down from the makeshift stage, working his way back over to your booth. "Next up is Alice and Jonah, dueting "You're the One That I Want"!" The emcee calls out, and you see a rather tipsy couple making their way to the front of the room.

"That was great, Harrington. Rocky start, but you kinda kicked ass up there." Eddie compliments Steve as he slides back into his spot. He's breathing a little heavy, surely coming down from his rush of nerves.

"Thanks, Munson. That means a lot, coming from you." Steve snarks, chugging down his beer to cool off.

"Any time." Eddie snickers, looking at you a moment later. "Change your mind yet?" He asks.

"I dunno...maybe. It does look pretty fun." You reply shyly, brushing some hair out of your face.

"Ugh, you're killin' me, sweetheart. I really wanna hear you sing." Eddie groans. He nuzzles his face into your neck, speaking lowly while planting light kisses on your throat. "Please, angel? For me? Your voice is so beautiful, and sexy." The tone of his voice instantly melts you, his breath fanning over your skin to accompany his borderline needy words. You'll do anything he wants at this rate, it's impossible to say no to him when he pulls out his charms.

"Fine. You're lucky that flattery works with me." You giggle, gently pushing him away to save the others from having to watch Eddie's seductive display. He sits up straight, grinning like a mad cat.

"Good, cuz I already signed you up when I was getting our drinks." He says, polishing off his drink. His words make your jaw drop, and you smack his chest playfully.

"You sneaky fucker!" You laugh, despite your annoyance with him signing you up without your knowledge. "What song did you put me down for?" You ask curiously.

"You'll just have to wait and find out." Eddie replies in a sing-song voice, he's loving this just a little too much. You glare at him, and he rolls his eyes. "I promise it's one that you know. One of your favorites, actually."

"Okay, good." You nod, glad you aren't going into this entirely blind.

"Well, I'm empty. Anyone else need a refill?" Eddie asks, shaking the ice in his glass as there's no booze left in it.

"I'll take one, just another beer." Steve pipes up, holding up his empty glass.

"No problem, dude. Y/N?" He looks at you again, noticing you're almost out as well.

"Uh, sure. Thanks, love." He nods once you accept his offer, getting up to head to the bar. Your eyes stay on him, following his backside until he disappears around the corner where you can't see him anymore. Your gaze returns to the table, and you're met with four pairs of eyes staring at you. "What?" You question, raising an eyebrow.

"You guys are still so smitten with each other. I hate to say it, but I'm totally jealous." Nancy says, almost in disbelief.

"Oh, the neck thing? That's just something he does. He's very affectionate, it's like a second language to him." You say simply, not thinking much of it. Of course, you appreciate everything Eddie does for you, he's seriously the most loving boyfriend you've ever had. But you've always assumed that this is ideally what all romantic relationships should be like.

"Okay, now I'm jealous!" Robin chimes in, making you laugh.

"I don't know, I guess I'm...used to it? That's not to say I take it for granted. I feel so damn lucky to have him. But...shouldn't everyone be this way when they're in love?" You ask, turning the question back onto them.

"I mean, yeah, most are at first. But it usually cools down a bit after the first couple months." Jonathan answers, which causes a confused look to spread across your face.

"So...are we doing it wrong?" You press on, genuinely finding it hard to understand what they mean.

"No, no. Of course not. What you and Eddie have is very special, and we're happy for you." Robin says kindly.

"So...what, then?" You continue, still not getting it.

"Nothing. We're just surprised." Nancy adds, and your face hardens. What the hell does that mean? Do they think you and Eddie will fizzle out, or even break up once the touchy stuff tones down? "Not in a bad way, Y/N. I think you might be reading into what we're saying too much. We're glad you two are happy together. That's all." She insists, and you let out a deep exhale. You feel silly for speculating the idea that they're somehow expecting you to self-destruct or something. They're your friends, and they're obviously rooting for you.

"Shit, sorry. You're right, I'm being silly." You chuckle dryly. "I don't mean to be so analytical. I'm just nervous as all hell for my turn up there." You nudge your head towards the stage.

"It's not silly, Y/N. We could've...expressed our envy a little better. And it can be a bit scary up there at first. Steve is a prime example of that. But it's all in good fun, and we'll cheer you on the whole way." Nancy reassures you, reaching across the table to put her hand over yours. The others nod in agreement, murmuring quiet support of Nancy's statements.

"Thanks, guys. I'll try to get out of my own head for the rest of the night." You paste on a small smile, already putting this conversation in your mental box of memories marked 'moments to cringe at before bed every night'. You slurp down the rest of your beverage, looking to see if Eddie's coming back with your second one soon. There's no sign of his mop of unruly curls, and you're becoming even more uneasy. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." You excuse yourself from the group, scurrying your way between the crowded booths and tables to find the restroom.

You can feel the beginnings of a spiral brewing, and you need a minute to breathe. You push open the swinging door, finding both stalls are empty. Good, you can have some peace and quiet. You hide yourself away in one of the stalls, flicking the lock to secure your space. You take some deep breaths, trying your hardest to hold it together. You feel like a total idiot for blowing something so innocent out of proportion in a matter of seconds. You really have no idea why you jumped to such a negative conclusion. You failed miserably in trusting your friends, so how can they trust you at all? A growing sense of dread spreads through you like a harsh chill, the notion that you've severely fucked things up. What has gotten into me?

You hear the bathroom door swing open again. Shit, I just want to be alone. "Y/N?" A familiar, raspy female voice says to you. Robin.

"What is it?" You ask as politely as you can, fidgeting with your hands as you're sitting on the toilet.

"Are you alright? You practically ran from the table to get in here." She speaks softly, working her way over to your stall.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute." You reply shakily, hoping she'll go away. You don't want to be a bother, you don't want to spoil the evening. You'll be fine if you can just get your heartrate to slow down.

"You don't have to lie, or hide yourself away, Y/N. We're your friends, and we've all been through stuff." She starts, pausing to let you respond. You don't, opting for silence for the sake of keeping yourself together. "Look, I know a thing or two about spending half your waking hours inside your own mind. Overthinking everything, dissecting every interaction, holding onto every single awkward moment to kick yourself for later." She speaks emphatically, pacing back and forth across the sticky tile floor. You can see her Converse-clad feet moving left and right, left and right while she talks. "Am I getting warm, here?" She asks, needing to know you're actually listening. She cares for you very much, and she can see that you both have a lot in common with this particular mindset.

"Try burning hot." You push the words out.

"Right! So, I also know that it doesn't pay to keep it all bottled up inside. I mean, you've seen how hyperactive I get!" You can't currently see it, but you know she's making wild gestures with her hands to get her point across. "And I used to be all alone in it, but I'm not anymore. I've got Steve, and the others, and now you. It's important to rely on your friends, Y/N." Robin hops up to sit on the sink counter, her voice becoming more quiet now. "I promise you haven't made anyone dislike you, or done the wrong thing. In case you haven't noticed, every last one of us is just as freakish and awkward as you. We're all just waiting for you to come watch Nancy and Jonathan take their turn to sing "Islands In the Stream"." She ends with a light laugh, drawing one from you as well. Of course those two would pick the most cliché song in existence.

You contemplate her words for a moment, taking your time to really absorb them. She's absolutely right, neither her nor the others have given you the impression that you're 'too much'. They really like you, and you like them too. You just need to chill the hell out, and stop taking everything so seriously. You stand up from your spot, opening the stall to face Robin. She jumps down from her perch, and pulls you into a warm hug. You return it with the same amount of strength, taking a deep breath. You catch a whiff of her perfume, light and floral, which you find very soothing. "Thank you, Robin. You really get me, in a way most people can't." You speak softly.

"Takes a spaz to know a spaz." She quips, making you laugh again. "Come on, let's get back to the table. I'm sure Eddie's getting lonely." She says suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows again.

"Oooooh, yeah. I'm sure he's worrying himself to death, too." You giggle, going to the door to rejoin civilization. You follow behind Robin, weaving between the aisles again until you reach your designated spot.

"There you are, princess. I've missed you." Eddie says sweetly, standing up to let you and Robin slide into the booth. His eyes lock onto yours, silently asking you if you're alright. You just smile and nod, feeling a million times better than you did a few minutes ago. He seems satisfied with your wordless answer, taking his spot to seal you in. He puts his hand on your thigh, and you lay your head against his shoulder. It's good to be back where you belong, with your man, and your friends.

"Everything alright?" Steve asks, earning a light smack from Robin. "Ow! What the hell?" His face scrunches in annoyance, he doesn't know what he said that was worthy of a slap.

"Everything's fine, dingus. I took care of it. Girl talk is the best medicine." Robin smirks, reaching for her mostly melted cocktail.

"Isn't it supposed to be laughter?" Jonathan asks.

"Shit, I thought it was sex!" Eddie chimes in, which brings the whole table down into a hearty laugh.

A little while later, it's Nancy and Jonathan's turn. They go up to the stage together, Jonathan's hand resting on the small of Nancy's back on their journey. And sure enough, their song of choice is the infamous Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers duet. Jonathan holds the mic for the both of them, and Nancy leans in real close to sing her portion of the words when the time comes. They look at one another frequently, smiling and making cutesy eyes at each other. They sure are ones to talk about 'cooling down', they've been together for as long as you can remember.

You're surprised that Jonathan hasn't proposed yet, they're definitely in it for the long haul. Just as the thought passes your mind, and the song comes to a close, Jonathan starts to get down on one knee. "Holy shit." You gasp. Did you accidentally will this into existence? The bar falls completely silent, a couple hundred eyes staring at the pair of them still occupying the stage once the music has stopped. Jonathan addresses the audience while reaching into his pocket.

"Sorry to delay the karaoke, everyone. But I've got a very important question to ask Nancy, and I can't think of a better time to do it." He says with a nervous smile, and scattered laughs drift around the room. He gazes up at Nancy, who's standing above him in total disbelief. Her eyes are blown wide, and she's smiling just as brightly as the man before her. "Nance, you have got to be the most amazing woman I've ever known. You're smart, and ambitious, and you make every single day so much brighter. We've been together for a long time, and I can't picture myself with anyone else for as long as I live." His voice breaks slightly as tears build within his eyes. He uses his free hand to open the little box he'd pulled from his pocket. He presents the ring to Nancy, the diamond catching the light to make it sparkle. "Nancy Wheeler, will you marry me?" He asks, his breath stuttering as he waits for her to answer.

"Yes!" Nancy shouts immediately, and Jonathan stands up to lunge into a gleeful embrace with her. Their lips meet, tears of joy streaming down their faces. Their arms wrap around one another, bringing them even closer together. The entire bar erupts into raucous cheers and applause, you and your friends included. You all get up out of the booth, standing to wait and give them hugs when they return to the table. You look at Eddie, finding him gazing at you lovingly. You return the sentiment, taking his hand in yours. You're so happy for Nancy and Jonathan, and you can't help picturing what this kind of moment will be like for you and Eddie. You hope it'll be even half as romantic as this, though Eddie will surely go all out for you.

The noise dies down as the newly engaged couple returns to your group. You take turns giving the both of them a warm hug, before taking your seats again. "Congrats to the happy couple! Everyone here at the Hideaway wishes you both all the happiness in the world." The emcee says kindly into the mic. "Alright, moving on, let's get Kevin up here to sing "Crazy Train"!"

"Congrats, you two! I gotta say, I didn't see that one coming. At least not tonight." You say to the lovebirds across from you. Nancy is staring at the gorgeous rock that now sits on her ring finger, and Jonathan is holding her close to him while his arms wrap around her waist.

"Thanks, Y/N. Fuck! I'm so happy!" Nancy squeals, giving Jonathan another hasty kiss.

"It's really great, guys. I was wondering when Byers would finally bite the bullet." Steve adds, trying his best to sound genuinely happy for them. He is, truly. But it would be a lie to say it doesn't sting a little bit. There was a time where he could've seen himself marrying Nancy, but that ship has long since sailed. It's for the best, really. They aren't good for each other romantically, they're much better off as friends.

"No need to be so jealous, Stevie. Your perfect match will come soon enough." Robin says, patting his hand as it rests casually on the table.

"I'm not jealous." Steve tries to deflect, but Robin isn't buying it. "I mean...not really. It would be nice to at least have some progress on finding 'the one', though. Meaningless sex and hollow relationships are a real drag after a while." He laments, sulking into his corner of the booth.

"I promise she's out there, Harrington. I think you're trying too hard. I could help you out if you want." Eddie interjects, smirking slightly at the thought of assisting King Steve in finding a meaningful relationship.

"I'm good, thanks. You managed to get one girlfriend in how many years of trying? And you hit her with your van, dude. That's hardly an achievement." Steve retorts bitterly. This draws a collective gasp from the table, all of you in shock at him being so unkind. Your chest twinges with a mix of emotions at his words. Anger, hurt, embarrassment. Is that how he really feels about you and Eddie being together? Do the others feel the same way, too?

"Steve!" Nancy shouts in anger, smacking him hard across the chest. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" She asks with her brows furrowed.

He doesn't say anything, averting his eyes from your upset faces. He knows he took things too far, and he regrets it entirely. He's just sick of being some kind of joke when it comes to dating. He never hears the end of it. It's like his 'thing' now that he can't get a serious girlfriend to save his life. "I'm sorry, I一" He sighs. "I didn't mean that. I'm just tired of being ridiculed for being single. That's all." He grumbles, reaching for his beer.

"I'm sorry, man. We'll lay off, alright?" Eddie offers, realizing his frequent razzing on Harrington hasn't been very nice.

"Thank you, I appreciate that. And you and Y/N are really great together. I know you didn't 'hit her with your van', not on purpose." Steve replies, eyes flicking to your unhappy face. "Y/N, I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"You're damn right you shouldn't have. Jesus, and I thought I was the one making an ass out of myself." You scoff, shaking your head. Steve isn't sure what else to say. He knows he crossed a line, and he doesn't blame you for being upset. His eyes stay on you, begging for forgiveness. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "It's fine, Steve. I'm used to the criticisms about our relationship at this point." You state flatly, forcing an unbothered smile.

"Okay." Steve nods awkwardly, deciding to shut up for a while.

Eddie's arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer into him. You lean in instinctively, finding comfort in his warmth. The scent of tobacco and his cologne wafts to your nose, calming you down a bit. You let out a light sigh and burrow further into him until it's Robin's turn to take the stage. Her tune of choice is Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love", which is a perfect song for her. Her performance is absolutely mesmerizing. She pulls out the signature Bush dance moves as she croons into the mic, enchanting the room like a gorgeous woodland creature. Robin's voice is so delicate, and equally as powerful in delivering the angst-filled lyrics. You have no idea how you're gonna follow her powerhouse performance, or if you should even bother to try.

"Jesus, Rob! That was fuckin' amazing!" Steve exclaims once Robin returns to the group.

"Thank you, Stevie. It's a lot of fun up there." Robin blushes slightly at Steve's words. She doesn't think much of her voice, so it's nice to hear a compliment or two about it.

Eddie had signed you and himself up to sing a bit late in the game, so you won't have your turns until near the end of the night. In the meantime, you engage in friendly conversation with the others, downing some more drinks over the next few hours. You're having a great time, getting a little drunk along the way. Eddie's pacing himself carefully since he's the one driving you home.

Your loosening inhibitions cause you to cling even harder to Eddie than you were before. You make subtle touches on him under the table, and he gladly gives you a few himself. Your kisses last far longer than usual, with him having to gently push you away before they turn into heavy make-out sessions. You're giggling a lot more, and whispering filthy things in his ear. You're not at the sloppy stage just yet, but Eddie realizes you're almost at the tipping point. He gets you a glass of water to dilute the alcohol coursing through your system, which you begrudgingly drink for his benefit.

"You just need to slow down a little, sweetheart. We don't want you falling on your ass, do we?" He says quietly in your ear while you sip away at the bland liquid he's presented to you. You miss the stinging sweetness of the drinks he kept bringing you earlier, and you don't want to lose this amazing feeling you've got going on right now. You're so...happy, and you can't get enough of Eddie.

"Ugh, I never took you for a buzzkill, Eds." You whine as quietly as you can, not wanting to draw attention to yourself.

"I'm not, Y/N. I just know how embarrassed you can get. I'm trying to help you." He speaks calmly to ensure you won't think he's getting annoyed with you.

"You're too sweet, baby. Always lookin' out for me." You sigh blissfully, slurring your words. You keep drinking your water, and a couple large baskets of warm, crispy fries arrive at the table for everyone to share.

"Of course, angel. You hungry?" He asks, reaching forward to pluck one of the French fries from the basket in front of you. He brings it up to your lips, and you lock eyes with him as you open your mouth to accept the salty potato into it.

You chew slowly, still holding his gaze as you swallow. "Starving." You say simply, licking some stray salt from your lips.

"Fuck." Eddie mutters under his breath. The way you're looking at him right now makes his cock ache inside his jeans. You're like a wild animal waiting to pounce on him when the time is right.

You break your lustful stare, giggling again now that you've got him right where you want him. Desperate to have you in any way he can, once you're alone, that is. You reach for a small handful of fries, munching them down as you pretend you're not extremely horny right now. Your eyes flick to him again. You find him sitting with his jaw clenched as he holds himself back from ripping your clothes off and fucking you right here in this booth. "Something wrong, love?" You ask knowingly, a dangerous smile plastered across your face.

"All good, babydoll." He clears his throat, shifting with all the subtlety he can muster to adjust himself. You giggle again, thoroughly enjoying how wound up you've made him.

"Ugh, get a room!" Steve snarks from across the table.

"Sorry, we'll behave. One of us happens to turn into a major nympho when she's drunk." Eddie replies, nudging your shoulder with his own. Your cheeks burn bright red at his words, but you know he's just playing around.

"Sounds like you're a very lucky man, Eddie." Nancy interjects with a friendly smile.

"Damn right. Luckiest man in the whole wide world." Eddie says lovingly, taking hold of your hand. He presses a kiss to your cheek, earning a couple 'Aw's' from Nancy and Robin.

"Okay, everyone. It looks like we're slowly reaching the end of karaoke night." The emcee says into the mic, and there's scattered sounds of disappointment spread throughout the bar. "I know, I know. But we'll be on again next Saturday, don't you worry. So, our next performer is Eddie, who's gonna sing "My Kinda Lover"."

"Ooh, your turn, Eds." You coo to your boyfriend, giving him a kiss on the lips for good luck. "Knock 'em dead, my love."

"Don't mind if I do." He grins, hopping out of the booth. He practically skips to the stage, extremely eager to perform for you. You scoot down to his spot, not wanting to miss a single second of this. He jumps onto the platform, taking the microphone in his hands. "Y/N, this one's for you. I love you, princess." He says into the mic, his big brown eyes staring you down.

"Fuck." You mumble, inhaling sharply at his intense gaze. The song begins to play, and Eddie taps his foot along with the strums of guitar. He opens his plush lips, and the lyrics begin to flow beautifully from them.

"You got me runnin', baby. You give me somethin' way beyond revenue." He starts, hitting every note perfectly. You absolutely love his voice, he's like a goddamn rockstar. And to have him singing just for you, it's something you hold very dear to your heart. "You put the magic in me, I feel the magic when we...do what we do." He gives you a wink, sending a familiar flare between your legs. The other instruments join the guitar, preparing for the first chorus. "And, oh, I can't be without you for too long. You're my situation. You're my kinda lover, my kinda lover, my kinda lover..." Eddie continues to sing, putting every ounce of himself into it.

"Damn, Y/N. He's got some serious pipes." Robin observes in awe. She knows he used to have a band and everything, but this shit is next level. You just nod, still mesmerized by your love crooning to you. His foot stomps on the wooden stage to match the loud beats that lead into the next verse.

"You keep me all together, you take me out whenever I'm lettin' down. You got the motions, baby. I got the notion, maybe, I'll stick around. Because, oh, I can never doubt you for too long. I can't see no reason, you're my kinda lover..." His energy only grows as the song goes on, which makes the entire bar feel totally electric. Everyone is digging the hell out of Eddie's showmanship, and he's eating up every last morsel of it.

"He sure knows how to work a crowd." Jonathan observes, finding himself rather impressed.

The song speeds up a bit, which only dials Eddie up to eleven. "When I come 'round, I never get down. I fly across the floor. I can see you comin' on me, and I can't ask for more." He falls to his knees, as if he's performing for a packed stadium as opposed to a shitty Indiana watering hole. The crowd whoops at his antics, fueling his fire. His eyes haven't left you this entire time, a roaring flame burning inside them just for you. "Rock me, sock me, baby you got me ridin' to the end. Rake me, shake me, baby you take me, turn me on again!"

"Holy shit." You whimper, which thankfully no one takes notice of. You can feel a flood of arousal spread between your thighs, and you want nothing more than to run up there and jump his bones.

Eddie slowly gets up as the song returns to its original tempo, breathing heavily while reciting the words. "You got my motor racin', I find my thoughts embracin' your every move. And I wanna set you reelin', I wanna make you feel the way that I do." He huffs, giving you a sexy smile as he nears the end of the tune. "And, oh, I've been thinkin' 'bout you for so long. And I don't wanna lose you. You're my kinda lover, my kinda lover, my kinda lover..." Eddie repeats the chorus as the instrumental fades out, picking the perfect place to stop. He lowers the mic, taking deep gulps of air with a satisfied grin. He's really missed performing, it's been far longer than he'd like since the last time he did it. Maybe he should try pursuing music again, he can't even remember the last time he picked up a guitar.

The entire bar cheers, most of the patrons getting out of their chairs to give a standing ovation. He does a dramatic little bow, and gives the mic back to the emcee. He jogs back to you, snatching you into his arms. You hop up to wrap your legs around his waist, holding tight to his shoulders. He smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. A bit of the sweat from his face transfers onto you, but you don't care. "Well, that's gonna be a tough act to follow. And this next one is our final performance of the night. Can we please have Y/N come to the stage? "Kiss Me Deadly" is waitin' for you."

You pull away from kiss at the announcement of the song Eddie picked for you. "Eddie, you cannot be serious! I can't sing that after the awesome shit you just did!" You speak frantically, freaking out at the idea of going right after your own boyfriend who knocked everyone's socks off.

"Oh, please, that was nothing! I saved the best for last, sweetheart." He says, squeezing your thighs while he's holding you up.

"That was far from 'nothing'. But I guess it's only fair that I take a turn since everyone else did." You climb down from his embrace, smoothing your skirt. You look at everyone at your table, feeling your nerves beginning to take over. "Prepare to witness a total disaster." You joke, though you're not sure it's exactly a lie.

"Oh, Y/N. You're gonna be great. Now, get your cute little ass up there!" Robin encourages you.

"Okay." You nod uneasily. You turn to face the path to the stage, forcing your feet to move one in front of the other. You feel like you're moving in slow motion, until you hit the edge of the little platform with your ankles. You almost trip and fall onto it, but you stop yourself to step up instead. You take a deep breath, rotating to face the onlookers. Your heart skips a beat when you see just how many people are in here. Fuck, I can't do this. Your eyes drift over to Eddie, who's still standing in the walkway. He notices your unease, offering a supportive nod.

"Here ya go, honey. You ready?" The emcee asks as he hands you the mic. You take it with a shaking hand, just narrowly avoiding dropping it onto the floor. You shake your head 'yes', and prepare to start the song quickly. There's really no intro to this tune, which you mentally curse Eddie for.

You wait for the emcee to point to you for the cue to begin, your breath catching a couple times as you anticipate it too early. After what feels like an eternity, his finger extends to tell you it's time. You blurt the words out, managing to keep your voice from trembling. "I went to a party last Saturday night. I didn't get laid, I got in a fight, uh-huh. It ain't no big thing." Your heart drops once you realize you actually got the first couple lines out. You look at Eddie again just before the next one comes, finding a proud smile on his face. Your nerves begin to melt away, and you grip the mic with both hands to ground yourself. "Late for my job, and the traffic was bad. Had to borrow ten bucks from my old man, uh-huh. It ain't no big thing."

"Woo!" Eddie cheers from his spot, egging you on. The tempo picks up as the instruments kick in, prompting you to lightly jump about on the stage in a complimentary way to the music.

"I went to a party last Saturday night. I told you that story would be alright, uh-huh. It ain't no big thing." You transition into cute little kicks as you head into the pre-chorus, smiling all the way as you hit every note just right. Eddie was right, this was a fucking fantastic idea. "But I know what I like, I know I like dancing with you. And I know what you like, I know you like dancing with me. Oh, yeah." You completely let go at this point, fully embracing the spirit of singing in front of drunken strangers. "Kiss Me once! Kiss me twice! Come on, pretty baby, kiss me deadly!"

You work the crowd just like Eddie did, dazzling them with your talent and flair. Smiles and claps on beat are awarded to you as you go along, and you notice the rest of your friends have joined Eddie in watching your spectacle. You feel like you're high, on an entirely new drug you've never indulged in before. You're still scared shitless, while simultaneously riding a wave of utter elation. The whole bar is focused on you, and for once in your life, you actually like it. The only attention that truly matters, though, is Eddie's. He knew you could do this, he always believes in you. Your heart is so full of joy and love in this moment, it's like you're in a movie. You don't want this to end, it's all too insane.

You keep the mood light and fun the whole way through the remainder of the tune, slowly coming to a stop when the song fades out. You're sweating a little by the end of it, and your lungs feel like they're on fire from singing so strongly. You effortlessly toss the mic back to the emcee, running like the wind back to Eddie. You don't jump into his arms again, but your lips still crash onto his with all the force you've got. The applause and cheers you receive from the other patrons are even louder than what they gave Eddie, and most of them turn to watch as you sloppily kiss him like your life depends on it.

"Now, that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you do karaoke!" The emcee says, bringing about another round of applause for you. "Take a bow, sweetheart. You're definitely our star of the evening." The man says to you, and you separate yourself from Eddie to face your temporary admirers. You bow just as goofily as your love did, almost falling over when you stand upright again. Eddie catches you, chuckling lowly at just how much you're shaking. You're coming down from the rush of performing, trembling like a leaf when it all sinks in. You sang, in front of people. Holy fucking shit.

"I gotcha, princess. How about we get you home, and I can make you sing a much different song." He says in your ear, and you can just barely feel his erection poking into your ass.

"I would love nothing more, Eds." You reply, still catching your breath. You back into him a little, drawing a stunted groan from his lips. You smirk at the sound. "Let's go home, baby."

To be continued...

#fanfiction #hippiegoth97 #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you

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dont-call-me-baby-posts · 3 years ago

Text

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Chapter 21

Blacking Out and Breaking Hearts - Master List

Word Count: 15.6K

Warnings: Y'all know the drill at this point. 18+. Also, super brief mentions of dr*g use.

Summary: Y/N is a successful musician, trying to navigate the world of stardom along with her complicated feelings for her best friend, Harry.

Alternatively: The one with the Halloween Party.

A/N: ARE YOU FINALLY READY FOR THE HALLOWEEN PARTY???? BUCKLE UP!!!!!!!!!!!

I've been DYING to post this part for so long now. I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting for so long. "This is called edging".

PLEASE let me know what you think! Your messages are my favorite part of posting, so please lmk how you liked the chapter. LOVE YOU ALL!! <3

Chapter 21

“Do you want to come get ready over here?” You asked, leaning towards the mirror. Your phone was next to you, lost between all of the brushes and lipsticks and false eyelashes on the counter. Anders hummed thoughtfully through the speaker.

“I’m actually, uh, going out for a bit first.” Anders answered. You could hear his heavy footsteps moving around his apartment. “I’ll just meet you there.”

“Okay.” You answered simply.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, pleased. It was lonely getting ready to go out by yourself. You knew having Anders here would be no replacement for Logan, but still you couldn’t help thinking something was better than nothing. You wanted to listen to the playlist Logan always played when she did her makeup. You wanted to hear her squeal with excitement over your outfit, defying physics as she jumped up and down in her heels. You’d see her soon enough, though, at the Halloween party. You told Anders again how glad you were that he was coming, feeling the familiar twinge of nervousness. It didn’t dull your excitement, though, eager to get out there again. And see Harry, of course.

Harry had been at a meeting all morning, and the few shorts hours that has passed since he left that morning felt like days. The last few days since he’d gotten home had been “off days”, meaning you two had only gotten out of bed to go pee or make something to eat. His hands had barely left your body at all, his fingertips tracing the curve of your spine as you laid on his chest, or twisting your hair like ribbons around his digits.

“I don’t want to go on tour.” You told him one morning. His head was laid on your chest, his eyes barely cracking open at the sound of your voice. You were twisting tiny braids into his hair, his breathing heavy against you. He hadn’t been sleeping well, he’d told you. He'd missed you too much. You knew he wasn’t exaggerating when his eyelids had fluttered closed at your touch, moments away from falling asleep.

“Why not?” He asked, kissing your bare chest right between your breasts as he lifted his head up to see you. “That’s your job.”

You knew he would say that. “I can’t be away from you for that long, H.” You whispered, dropping the tiny braid from your fingers. “I want us to stay like this.”

“Nothing will change, love.” He promised, leaning over your body to kiss your frown. You pouted against his lips. “Come on. It’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll talk to you every day.”

“That’s not enough.” You admitted. Harry smiled, trying to draw you out of the slump you were falling into. “Why can’t we just be normal people? We could get normal jobs and see each other every night when we get home. We could move to the suburbs.”

Harry giggled at your idea. “You’re too talented to be normal.”

He leaned up, kissing you again. You whined at him, still not satisfied with his answer but falling into the kiss anyway. His lips were slow and deliberate, hands tangled into your hair. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, then across the back of his neck. You wanted to freeze time, to stay here just like this forever. Nothing would ever top this.

You were both naked, as you had been the last few days, so it was hard to miss as Harry hardened against you. He wasn’t in a hurry though, tracing the curve of your stomach and across your breasts.

“I can’t believe how much I love you.” He whispered into your neck, placing slow, sweet kisses below your ear. His voice was so quiet it almost seemed like he was speaking to himself.

“I love you, too.”

You whispered it back against his hair. He’d gone slightly scruffy over the course of the last few days, the stubble he’d accumulated tickling your neck where it met your shoulder. He hummed happily into you.

“I love hearing you say that.” He told you, placing a firmer kiss on your mouth. “I love you.” He repeated over and over again, his lips meeting yours between each confession.

There was something about the way the light spread through the bedroom that made everything feel like a dream. The soft white light coming in through the curtains painted everything in a lovely kind of tone, the bedsheets somehow whiter, Harry’s eyes even brighter when they met yours. Sunlight kissed his skin everywhere, the way you always longed to.

“You think we’ll be together forever?” You asked him, distracted by the way the light bounced off each of his curls. You hadn’t let yourself think much about it but you were so desperately in love in that very moment that you couldn’t push away the thought that either you’d stay together forever or eventually break up.

“Forever, sunflower.” He swore. He pressed a kiss to your temple to seal his oath. He shifted his weight, pressing his member against your opening. You shivered, both from his words and from the contact. He looked at you, gauging your reaction before pushing himself inside of you. His movements were like his kisses, slow and sweet. You believed him that you’d be together forever. There was nothing that could come between this. Nothing.

“Harry…” You breathed, deciding not to break the gentle quiet that had filled the room. He breathed against your neck, placing more kisses along your collarbone.

“You know,” he said, not bothering to lift his head, “When we get old we can move somewhere far away. We can buy a farm.”

He couldn’t see you, but he must have sensed the smile on your face as he continued.

“No one could ever bother us. And we’d have little kids running around, too. We could plant parsley and flower.”

“And you could bake bread.” You added. He pressed into you again, making you suck in a breath. It wasn’t the usual conversation you’d have during a moment like this, but in the lazy morning light it seemed perfect. Everything was perfect. You dragged your nails softly across Harry’s back, making his skin prickle with goosebumps.

“And we would be married.” He added thoughtlessly, continuing his slow movements.

“What?” You asked, your hand stilling. Harry lifted his head, looking down at you. He smiled, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t want to be married?” He asked. His movements had stilled, too, both of you just enjoying the view of the other person for a few golden seconds.

“Of course I do.”

“To me?”

“Are you asking me to marry you?”

“We’ll I wouldn’t do it while I was inside of you. I’d do something more… spectacular.”

“Well, my answer is still yes. To you.”

“Someday.”

“Someday.” You repeated. He nuzzled into your neck, peppering your skin there with kisses again.

“You’re embarrassing me again.” You giggled, “You really mean it?”

“A million times.” He promised. You smiled, feeling goofy and bashful and small. You imagined it, indulging yourself in the fantasy of you walking down the aisle towards him. Your mom would be so happy. As much as you didn’t want to admit it to anyone, you’d always been the little girl who spent so many hours imagining her perfect day, stopping only recently when love seemed too far out of reach in the blistering heat of LA.

Your voice was clingy and pathetic when it came out again. “Kiss me.”

He did, this time with a bit more urgency. You mumbled to him that you loved him, you loved him, you loved him. You felt him enter you again, his teeth coming down on your lower lip. You could tell he was using every ounce of his willpower to press into you slowly, wanting this tender moment to last as long as possible. But once you bucked your hips into him his resolve broke, giving in to you in the most helpless way. Your arms clung onto each other, memorizing each part of their partner. Harry’s skin was dewy with sweat, feeling cold against your touch where his back wasn't covered by your duvet. The last few days had been filled with many moments like this, but not anything as sweet or as loving and pure. This was different, unlike any moment Harry had ever given you before.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned, making your heart pitter patter a bit quicker. “I can’t believe you’re real.”

“All yours, H. All yours.”

“All mine.” He agreed, his movements picking up speed. “Just for me..”

You picked up your legs, wrapping them around Harry’s waist. Your hands fell to the sides of your head, Harry quick to press your wrists under his weight as he held himself over you. The moment lasted for lifetimes, the two of you inseparable in every single way. His movements stayed at a steady pace for a long time, Harry kissing every inch of your skin that was within his reach. You both whispered all of the things that came easily into your minds about the forever you'd have together. You giggled into your kisses, both of you giddy and lovely and high on one another.

You let out a soft whine, Harry lifting himself just enough to glance down at your body under him. His mouth fell open in that cute, perfect way it always did, his brows furrowing. Usually when he was close he would ask you to look at him, or utter something dirty in your ear. This time, though, he lowered his mouth onto yours, kissing you as if he’d only ever lived to kiss you. He pulled out, using his hand to finish onto the soft of your tummy. You could have melted at the way your name fell from his mouth, warmth spreading across your abdomen. He quickly grabbed a tissue as your eyes fluttered closed, wiping your stomach clean.

“You’re so pretty,” He admired, your eyes fluttering open to find him sitting up over you. His finger tips kissed your skin, beginning at your sternum and traveling down to your naval. “Such a good girl.”

“I like it when you call me that.”

His eyes moved quickly up to yours at your admission, a smile bubbling up across his face. He didn’t say anything, his gaze moving across your features before moving back down to your body under him.

“What does my pretty girl want?” He asked, his hands teasing the inside of your thighs. You were quick to answer, telling him it was him you wanted. Only him. “You can have me.” He promised.

///

“Y/N?” Anders voice rang out, tearing you away from the memory. You flinched, dropping the tube of lipstick you had been absentmindedly running across your mouth. “I said I have to go. But I’ll see you tonight?”

“Deal.” You agreed, blinking until the image of you and Harry blurred slightly from your mind. You cleared your throat, trying to focus back on your task

“Thanks. For everything.” Anders said quickly, his voice soft. The conversation had started not too long ago, Anders calling you saying he “needed someone to talk to.” You hadn’t talked about anything in particular, so you weren’t exactly sure how much you’d helped. Still, you smiled.

You tried to assure him, positive you hadn’t done anything worth being thanked over. “Don’t have to thank me.”

“I feel like I do, though.” He explained. “You’ve, uh, you’ve really helped me out a lot lately. I.. I appreciate it.”

You could tell he was embarrassed, but it was too important to him to leave these things unsaid. He had been there for you when you needed him, so of course you wanted to do that same.

“You’re my friend, Anders. And all I did was bother you and clean your apartment.”

“Well I still appreciate it.”

You set down your tube of lipstick as Anders said his goodbye. You stopped him right before he hung up, though, deciding to be brave and say those things you didn’t want left unsaid like he had.

“Anders, you know you can… talk to me about stuff. Right?”

“Sure.”

“No, like…” You paused, trying to navigate your next few words carefully. “I mean you can tell me about how you’re doing. I don’t want you to take this the wrong way but I can tell you’re having a… hard time right now and I want to help. If I can.”

He laughed the same way he always did when you tried this line of questioning.

“I’m good.” He insisted. “I would tell you if I wasn’t. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Byyyyye.”

“Byyyyyyyyyye.”

You hoped he meant what he said.

///

Rachel’s house was probably the biggest that you had been to, ever. She came from a very rich, very famous family, so you weren’t exactly surprised. You had never been here before but it suddenly made sense to you why Logan was always here. There were men in suits walking around outside, waiting to let people inside. One of them offered to take your coat, which you hesitantly handed off to him. Another man in a bowtie offered you a glass of champagne. It was kind of overwhelming, being surrounded by so many people all tripping over themselves to serve you. It made you uncomfortable, the way they were waiting on you. You were more than happy to hang your own coat, or pour your own drink. You didn’t want to be rude, though, thanking them for their help as you stepped inside.

The plan was simple, and set in stone. You would arrive now, find Logan somewhere inside. You would take a few pictures to post online (Bethany was begging you to be more active on Instagram), and Harry would arrive exactly 35 minutes after you. The rule was that you couldn’t arrive or leave at the same time. It didn’t matter what you did while you were inside, really, since there wouldn’t be any paparazzi in the mansion taking photos. There was an unspoken rule in this strange world; you minded your own business, and everyone else would mind theirs. It didn’t matter what they saw, as long as there was an understanding between you that you hadn’t seen anything, either. Obviously, it was still prohibited by the label for you and Harry to ‘engage’ in any way while you were there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t dance and talk and be a couple in almost every other way. Everyone knew someone who knew someone, which meant someone here knew her. It was better for everyone that things stayed quiet, at least a while longer.

The sequins on your jacket felt slightly itchy as you tried to navigate your way through the house. You, Harry, Logan, and Rachel had decided on wearing matching costumes this year from the Rocky Horror Picture Show. You were Columbia, Harry being your Frank N’ Furter. (The irony of this wasn’t lost on you, Columbia being the obsessive fan of Frank in the movie who bends to his every whim). Logan was Riff Raff, which was hysterical, and Rachel was Magenta. You couldn’t help being a little bit jealous of how close they had gotten, dressing as the iconic sibling duo from the movie and spending so much time together while you were with Harry. In fairness, though, that was exactly what had happened. You had spent so much time with Harry that it wasn’t fair for you to expect Logan to just wait around and not hang out with anyone else. You really didn’t mind them being friends, you just hoped that you wouldn’t end up being replaced. Harry could never replace Logan. There was a clear distinction between the two of them, for obvious reasons. Regardless, you continued, clutching your glass so that it wouldn’t spill on anyone as you searched for Logan.

You spotted them, finally, running up to them. They let out little excited screams, Rachel welcoming you to her home and thanking you for coming.

“It’s about time you finally came over!” Rachel yelled, holding you. She was stunning, her hair pulled into tight, messy curls. She was wearing a maid outfit, the same one Magenta wore in Rocky, and with torn, distressed fishnets.

“Thank you for inviting me!” You responded, hugging her again. “I’m so excited!”

“Of course I invited you.” She said, smiling. “You’re Logan’s best friend. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You thought you could see Logan blush, but the heavy makeup on her face made it hard to tell. Logan was wearing a suit, her long blond hair slicked back away from her face. Her character Riff Raff was probably the most unappealing, nasty character in the movie, and yet she was somehow able to pull it off and make it look glamorous. She had heavy eyeshadow around her eyes and a dark contour, making her appear both gaunt and beautiful at the same time. You almost grinned at the irony, Logan's character being overwhelmed with jealousy in the movie when that was all you could feel as you looked at her. Riff Raff was always cast aside and forgotten, and his feelings of inadequacy were manifesting inside of you instead of her as you all hugged and said hellos, your chest feeling tight and hot. Logan leaned into you, her lips almost touching your ear as she whispered.

“Harry should be here any minute, right? Did you see his costume yet?”

You shook your head. “Yeah, he’s on his way now. But he wouldn’t let me see the fit, yet. He’s had it hidden in his closet for a week now ‘cuz it's a surprise’.”

You all enjoyed casual conversation, your eyes scanning the room every few seconds to see if Harry had arrived yet. You were working on your second glass of champagne now, trying to pace yourself but your excited nerves egging you on to drink more, more, more. Rachel had someone (A friend? An employee?) come over to take some photos of the three of you. You felt glamorous, even posing next to these two perfect bodies. You were wearing a corset, which was pulled as tight as it could go around your waist. It was covered in tiny gems and stones and was covered by a short, golden jacket. You wore tight black shorts and tights with sparkly silver heels. You, of course, also had on the iconic red bow tie that went with Columbia’s look. You looked outrageous and gaudy, but it was for some strange reason the most beautiful you had felt in ages. It was such a nice feeling, becoming someone totally different who could look and act however they wanted. Instead of playing the character you were forced to everyday of your life, you got to play someone new.

Rachel scrolled through the pictures on her phone, each of you ooh-ing and ahh-ing at how incredible they turned out. Note to self, you thought, you needed to hire whoever these models were using to take their pictures, for every occasion. You made small talk with everyone, your blood already starting to become tainted by alcohol, your words coming out easily instead of discombobulated and nervous. There were so many celebrities here that you had never met before that you couldn’t even think of approaching. It made your heart pound, seeing these icons in the flesh having perfectly normal conversations with their friends.

You could hear a laugh, somewhere not too far away, which caught your attention. You excused yourself, finding Harry in the crowd easily. You yelled his name, running over to him before jumping into his arms. The corset made it hard to grab on but you tried your best as Harry lifted you in a hug. He set you down, his eyes already sparkling the way they always did when he was surrounded by people. Unlike you, he thrived in environments like this. He loved the attention, the compliments from strangers, the glances from across the room. He was more himself than ever when he was enjoying eyes on him like this. It was more of a performance for him, parties like this, Harry usually shy but easily flipping the switch when he felt comfortable. You, on the other hand, would normally turn into yourself in moments like these, wanting to become small and invisible. But that’s what the drinks were for. To make you want to take up space.

You took in Harry’s costume in front of you, your eyes pinching in laughter immediately. Your stomach hurt straining against the corset from laughing so hard.

“You don’t like it?” He asked, gesturing to himself. He had a broad smile across his face. He had on the seafoam green surgical gown from the movie, with a pair of black fishnets underneath. He had on his infamous pearl necklace and a pair of perfectly shiny and perfectly pointed black heels. On his face, he had a brushing of black eyeshadow, a deep red lipstick painted across his perfect mouth. He looked incredible. He was handsome and beautiful and everything else in between.

“I love it.” You told him, your cheeks already sore from smiling so much. You wanted to lean up on your tippy toes to kiss him, his face even further away from yours than normal thanks to the few extra inches his shoes granted him. You resisted, though, instead just telling him with your eyes everything that you wanted to do.

You both found Logan and Rachel, the girls screaming over Harry’s outfit. You took more pictures, Harry on one end next to Logan and you on the other next to Rachel. His hand found yours behind their backs, his fingers brushing yours.

The night went on, the discreet glances turning into discreet touches on the leg, arms around your shoulder, hands brushing hair away from faces. You were conscious of those around you, knowing that anyone and everyone could be taking a picture you just happened to be in the background of.

“Who cares?” Harry whispered to you when you attempted to brush his hand away from your cheek. “No one can prove anything. It’s not like I’m kissing you or anything.”

“Bethany will kill me, Harry.” You said, but you were already convinced by him even as you protested. At least you could say that you did your best to seem unassuming. And he was right, anyway. Even if these ended up online, no one would have any more proof of anything than they did before. Everyone had already made up their minds one way or another about the two of you. Why not give them a little bit more to talk about?

Also, you had always been like this with him. Even before you were together, you had always held hands and sat close to one another. It would be more suspicious, you tried to rationalize, if you suddenly stopped doing those things.

Harry had had enough champagne to send you to the ER as hours passed, though in fairness you were a little bit of a light weight. There was nothing else to drink here, but Harry didn’t let that damper his good time. The only problem was, every time he went to get himself another glass, he came back with two in his hands. One for you for each that he had. You were trying your best to keep up, but you could feel the room spinning around you no matter how still you tried to stand.

Harry slipped away a few times, chatting with any and everyone. You weren't annoyed as you watched him work the room, instead feeling your chest sweet with pride. He was really yours. All yours. Whether the world knew it or not. You got the nerve to make your way around the party, as well, anytime Harry left you for a few brief moments. Logan kept an eye on you, making sure you weren't left alone. It felt like old times again, the two of you gripping onto each other's arms as you shuffled toward the bathroom. You giggled excitedly into each others ears when you spotted Timothee walk in, dancing hand in hand when another one of "your songs" came on (not a song you released, but a song you both had claimed as belonging to the pair of you, usually all the way back before fame and LA seemed anything like a reality). Rachel was a wonderful hostess, greeting everyone as they entered, never staying in one place for too long. You were selfishly grateful for that, having your best friend all to yourself.

"I've missed this." You told Logan, drunken honesty finding it's way into the bathroom with the two of you. Logan threw her head back in laughter, standing to pull her pants back onto his tiny waist.

"You miss watching me pee?" She asked, washing her hands. Her eyes shimmered at you through the mirror. She was doing better than ever, you could tell. She looked radiant and confident and like she belonged in a city like this.

"Yes." You said with a giggle, slumping down the door to sit on the floor. Your feet were starting to ache from your shoes, the cool tiles feeling good against your hot skin. "I miss this. I miss hanging out with you."

"I miss it too." She promised, her normal sing-song voice sounding the same as it always had before if not a little bit more polished. She pulled you to stand, pressing a wet, lipstick stained kiss to your cheek. "I'm sorry I've been so busy. I just- I have something going on and I haven't had the right time to tell you-"

There was a bang on the door, making you both jump. You buckled over with giggles as you wiped happy tears from your eyes, both of you apparently finding everything hysterical tonight. A voice came from outside asking you to hurry.

"It's like he doesn't know there's, like, 40 bathrooms in this house..." Logan mumbled. She flatted the front of her jacket, checking her hair in the mirror.

You followed her out back into the party, an angry party-goer preparing to tell you both off before his eyes landed on your face. Nothing to say now? You wanted to ask him, raising a famous eyebrow at him while offering a smug, famous smile.

"Hey, what were you saying before?" You asked Logan, voice strained over the sound of the music.

"Huh?"

"In the bathroom. What were you saying?" You asked again. Her face flickered with panic, a nervous laugh slipping out as a defense.

"Oh." She looked around her, finding Rachel gesturing for her from across the room. Her shoulders relaxed, realizing she had an out of the conversation. "I'll tell you later? Now's not really a... good time."

"Okay." You said, but she was already skipping away.

///

“Y/N! Hey!” You heard a voice call. You were wobbling passed the kitchen, a new drink in hand. You squinted your eyes to find where the sound had come from, trying to sharpen the fuzzy images around you. You saw Anders walking towards you, waving both of his hands up in the air. He looked happy to see you. No, he looked relieved. You rushed (sloppily) to meet him, Harry glancing away from his conversation with Logan and Rachel across the room to see where you were going. You ran to Anders, feeling drunk and excited, wrapping him in a warm hug. It felt strange to hold him like this, both of you usually hyperaware of any and all physical contact since you'd started hanging out. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hug him, it was just… a silent agreement you’d made once the boundaries of your relationship had been set. It was like each of you wanted to make it clear to the other that there was nothing romantic going on, settling on fist bumps and high fives most of the time. Things friends do. But you were drunk and happy and you missed him, not even thinking twice before pressing your face into his chest. He flinched, hands hovering over you for a moment before hesitantly patting you on the back like an absent father you never hugged growing up. You pulled away, smiling broadly, breathing a sigh of relief. He looked good tonight, and not in a weird way, but he looked okay. He looked better. He was dressed as Kylo Ren from Star Wars, minus the helmet.

“I love the costume!” You yelled over the music.

“Thanks! Yours is… great!” He said, a confused look passing over his face for a moment as he took it all in. “What is it?”

“It’s from a movie.” You slurred, smiling. He nodded.

“Well it’s cool as fuck.” He said, looking over your shoulder at the rest of your friends. He caught Rachel’s eye, waving excitedly. “How’s it, uh, going?”

“Goooooood,” You sang, following Anders' gaze over your shoulder. Harry had returned to his conversation, but you caught him throwing a concerned look in your direction. His eyes narrowed, only for a second, before pinching closed at something Logan was saying. “I’m drunk.” You told Anders.

“You don’t say?” He teased, a waiter stopping by at that exact moment to offer him a glass. He accepted, looking back and forth between the waiter and you as if asking if you felt weird about them too. You did, you told him silently, widening your eyes as they walked away. He took a sip, grimacing at the taste.

“They don’t have beer.” You told him, that being the only thing you’d ever seen him drink. He shrugged, forcing another gulp down his throat.

“It’ll have to do.” He decided, throwing the rest of the glass back like a shot. He coughed, sticking his tongue out. “I’m so fucking nervous, dude.”

You pushed him lightly on the shoulder, which felt awkward and stiff but seemed like a good idea in your head. “Don’t be. You wanna come over here with us?”

“You’re boyfriend's gonna kill me.”

“That would be a great headline, don’t you think?”

“You’re funny.” Anders said flatly, the corner of his mouth turning up after a beat had passed.

“You’re making it weird. It’s not like he has any reason to be mad at you, anyway. We’re… bros.”

You couldn’t helped thinking you were hilarious, covering your mouth with a hand to cover your giggle. Anders thought for a moment, gesturing at one of the staff members for another glass before throwing the entire thing back in one go.

“Lead the way, bro.” Anders said, patting you firmly on the back like an old highschool buddy.

You brought him over to where you’d all been talking, steadying yourself on your heels as you took your place next to Harry. You felt Harry’s arm snake around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. His fingers pressed into your side, enough that you could feel it through your corset. You let out a yelp, grabbing onto Harry’s shoulder as he pulled you so that you wouldn’t tip over. He smiled down at you before kissing you on your face, almost right on the mouth.

“What’s the matter with you!” You scoffed, giggling as you nudged him away. Anders was catching up with Logan and Rachel, giving the two of you a moment as he told the girlies all about the tour he had planned for the beginning of the following year. Harry hadn’t even noticed him walk up with you, it seemed like.

“Just wanted to kiss ya.” He said like it was obvious. His face started to get that soft pink color, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. You liked the way his lips moved when he was drunk, just a little bit slower than usual.

“Not here.” You reminded him gently. He threw his head back, letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“Harry, it’s so nice to see you man!” Anders said, turning his attention to the two of you once you were done canoodling. Harry looked at him, an expression you couldn’t read flashing across his face. His brow furrowed, and you could see the moment of realization written across his perfect features as he recognized the man he’d found you kissing not too long ago. He pursed his lips, smiling tightly. Anders wasn’t suppressing his emotions quite as well, his face ghostly and sunken as he nervously waited for Harry’s reaction. Harry smiled politely, giving him a friendly (and short) hello. He turned back to face you, dismissing Anders completely, his body turning between the two of you as if to block you from Anders' sight. You cringed internally at his greeting, gritting your teeth as you forced yourself to speak.

“You remember Anders, don’t you?” You asked, wrapping your hands around Harry’s waist. You were hoping the soft touches and puppy dog eyes would soften whatever blow was coming, even leaning up to kiss Harry gently on the cheek. Almost as soon as the words left your mouth, though, Harry pressed you away softly, grabbing you by the shoulders. His brows were completely pinched now, looking between you and the man behind him.

“You’re Anders?” Harry asked, almost in disbelief. He pointed a finger towards your friend, a sinister chuckle leaving Harry’s perfect lips as Anders nodded silently.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He didn’t even remember his name? This entire time? It wasn’t lost on you the pieces Harry must be putting together now, realizing the true identity of the person you’d spent almost the entirety of the last week with. He’d been so understanding about it, not even thinking twice when you’d told him over and over again… If Harry’s tightly crossed arms were any indication, that gentle understanding was dead and gone.

“We met a while back..” Anders began, Harry’s stare making him uncomfortable. Harry smiled, nodding his head. He put up a hand, subconsciously blocking himself from the memory of the two of you together.

“I remember.” Harry said. You could tell he wasn't trying to be rude but his tone was sharp, telling Anders (unintentionally) it was time to stop talking. Harry’s grip tightened even more around you. “It’s so, so great to see you again.”

With that, Harry began walking away after a quick handshake and pat on Anders' shoulder. He smiled, more pleasantly this time, before dismissing himself. He easily dragged you by the wrist behind him, his large hands encompassing the daintiest portion of your arm. You were barely able to keep up, stumbling behind him. You chanced a look over your shoulder, Anders mouthing something that looked like ‘I told you so!’ as you were whisked away. You were bumping into everyone, mumbling apologies under your breath as Harry led you into a hallway. You walked for a while before Harry pulled you into a bathroom, a different one than the one you'd been interrupted in with Logan.

He didn’t say anything, releasing your arm and twisting the bathroom lock once you were inside. Ordinarily that would be a good sign, but the look on Harry’s face indicated otherwise. He was fuming, his arms raising to cross against his chest again. He was trying not to seem upset but it was all too easy for you to tell what he was thinking. You looked at him, confused and horrified and scared. Things had been going so well with you two, and you’d done everything right this time. You told him where you were. You didn’t lie. There were no more secrets. Even still, Harry gazed down at you expectantly, awaiting your explanation.

“What’s wrong?” You asked drunkenly, feeling sick from moving so quickly. You decided playing dumb would be the best strategy for now, letting Harry say what he wanted too before you dug yourself any deeper. Harry lifted his hands to his hair, raking his finger through the curls.

“That’s Anders?” He asked. He was mad, but his drunken state made him just look silly. You furrowed your brows at him.

“Yeah… you met him before. I figured you remembered.”

“So that’s who you were out at lunch with?”

“I told you who I was with...”

“Who you spent every night with while I was gone?”

“I didn’t spend the night..” You defended, pausing long enough to mimic Harry’s actions by running a hand through your hair. “You literally met him before! I don’t get what the issue is!”

“Yeah but I didn’t realize-“ Harry paused, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I just didn’t realize that was him.”

You were tempted to apologize, but decided against it. It wasn’t your fault he didn’t remember, and you’d been honest with him from the start about who you were with.

“So what’s going on with him, then?” Harry asked into the quiet of the bathroom. He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there something going on there? Because last time I saw him you were practically all over him, and now you’re going out for lunch? Spending every day at his apartment?”

You took a step back from him, seconds away from rolling your eyes.

“There’s nothing going on, Harry. He’s my friend.”

“Since when?”

“What do you mean since when? He’s just my friend, Harry. I’m allowed to have friends aren’t I?”

He didn’t respond. He took a deep breath. He was being patient with you, as much as he could be, and you knew you were being hard on him. You decided to back off a bit, copying Harry again by taking a deep breath before trying your best to put his mind at ease.

“There’s nothing going on. I told him already that it wasn’t going to happen, and he knows that.” You started explaining yourself, your cheeks reddening with frustration and guilt and embarrassment. “He never tried anything. He’s just a friend, Harry. It’s not like I had anyone else to spend time with...”

“Okay.” Harry said when your voice trailed off. “I get it.”

“Okay.” You agreed, slightly miffed but glad he was being understanding. But he held up a finger, cocking his head to the side before you could say anything else.

“I just don’t know how I feel about it, Y/N… I- I don’t like it.”

Your hands met Harry jaw as he spoke, wondering if maybe your touch could be enough to make him lose his train of thought. You leaned up, pressing your mouth against his. He allowed it, only cutting you off when you tried to deepen the kiss. “Stop.” He said, his voice like a slap in the face. He turned his chin away from you, just out of your reach. You backed away, throwing your hands up, trying not to show how your feelings were hurt by his dismissal.

“So you just want me to, what? Never speak to him again? He’s my best friend, Harry.”

You wobbled on your feet slightly, trying to seem stern but struggling to even stand upright. Harry signed, deciding to let it go.

“I guess not.” He answered. His mouth was still pressed in a tight line. He brought you to his chest, holding you against him firmly.

You both stood there, wrapped around each other, in awkward, drunken silence for a few seconds before a giggle rose from your throat.

“You look so funny when you’re mad.” You told him, holding his face between your hands. His eyes softened a bit, leaning forward to kiss your nose.

“I’m not mad.” He insisted, his voice still slightly grumpy. He tried not to smile as you stood there watching him, his mouth twitching as he tugged the corners down.

“Good.”

You tried to reach his face, standing on your tippy toes on your heels to kiss him again. He was too weak to resist this time, instantly leaning into you. Good, you thought. It’s over. His hands were on you within seconds, his kisses drunken and lustful and champagne flavored. You reached around his neck to untie the surgical gown he was wearing, letting it fall to the floor. Before he had a chance to try to unhook your corset you fell to your knees in front of him, tugging his underwear and pantyhose down his thighs as you went.

He let it happen, not daring to protest your desperate actions in his drunken state. His breathing was already heavy, making you feel warmer in the small space of the bathroom. You realized you hadn’t exactly thought this through, a lump forming in your throat at the sight of his girth before you. He was hard already, his cock springing up to meet your gaze. Harry’s hands gripped the sink behind him, the veins popping out under the skin of his forearms. You looked up at him, just for a second, instantly feeling more nervous than before when you found his eyes trained on you. You just knelt there on the floor, your chest heaving, begging your arms or your mouth to make the next move. You looked up at Harry again, who reached down to brush your cheek. As if reading your mind, he raised you by your chin, bringing you to kiss him again.

“Maybe we can just go back to the party.” He offered sweetly, brushing the hair out of your reddened face. You shook your head.

“No I… I wanna.”

“You want to what?” He asked, a cheeky expression on his face. You swallowed hard. You were grateful for Harry’s hands on you, keeping you steady on your feet.

“Make you feel good.” You answered him. Make you forget, you corrected to only yourself. He grinned, kissing you on the forehead. Your mouth felt dry, threatening to stop the words before they even came out.

“You don’t have to do that.” He promised, and you knew he meant it. But the aching you felt between your thighs said otherwise. It was like when you were with him you were no longer in control of what your mind or body did. You were helpless, unable to stop your knees from buckling before him. You'd been itching to touch him all night, too, and you were finally alone. You weren't willing to pass this moment up.

Instead of answering, you fell to the ground again, your knees making a soft thud sound when they hit the tile of the floor. Even standing on your knees like this, you could feel your thighs shaking, struggling to hold your body up as you gazed at his form. He was perfect. The tattoos that etched their way across his abdomen, the way his fishnets clung around his knees where you had left them. The black eyeshadow, smudging slightly as the hours had passed, it all made him even sexier than he ever had been before. Or maybe it was the champagne. Either way, the look he gave you as your eyes searched his face, combined with the way his thumb gently brushed your lips before pressing into your mouth, gave you the courage to lean forward, taking his length into his mouth. His head was immediately thrown back, resting against the mirror behind him. He cursed under his breath as your tongue slid around him, his eyes pinching closed in pleasure. You moved your head slightly faster, still taking your time to savor him. Harry let out another low grunt, his fingers tangling into your hair roughly. The feeling made you moan around him, his hips bucking forward at the sound.

“‘M gonna help you, okay?” He said, his voice thin and breathless. You pulled away from him, confused, your lips messy and glistening. You could see the red of your lipstick transferred onto his dick, which for some reason made your stomach tighten even more. You opened your mouth to speak, unsure where Harry was going with this, when he quickly used the hand already tangled into your hair to bring your mouth back around him.

“Don’t- fuck. Don’t stop.” He huffed. You didn’t need convincing, your mouth continuing its movements around him. “But we have to be fast, yeah? ‘M just gonna move your head a bit, okay sunflower?”

You nodded, as best you could, humming an agreement. You could feel your stomach tense in anticipation, your mind filling with all kinds of dirty thoughts. Harry removed his fingers from your hair, readjusting his grip so that it was firmer, his fingers securely weaved between the strands.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, yeah?” He asked you. Your eyes flickered up to him, all you were able to do to agree being a soft blink of your eyes. “Good girl.” He hummed dreamily.

Harry’s hand pushed against the back of your head, sliding you further onto him, nearly all the way, before sharply pulling back. Oh. He repeated the action, your movements along his shaft no longer voluntary as he used your mouth. He sped up, his movements quicker and more firm than you were used to, making you gag around him slightly. You were taking him in further than you ever had before, his hips pressing themselves into you as his hand moved your head.

“Fuck.” He breathed, his free hand still gripping the counter behind him, knuckles white. His head no longer rested against the mirror, instead leaning down to watch as he pleasured himself with your mouth. His movements had little regard for your comfort as he fucked into you, his eyebrows pinching as his mouth fell open in awe.

“Such a good girl for me,” He mused, knowing you liked his words of encouragement. He tried his best to keep his voice soft and sweet even as the moment intensified. “You okay? You alright?”

You hummed around him again, earning a dazed smile from the man in front of you. He whispered a soft “good” before continuing. His curls fell onto his forehead into his eyes.

You could feel him twitching after a few minutes, a tell tale sign that he was close to the edge if the sloppy movement of his hips hadn’t given him away already. You moaned, eager to please him. You wanted to taste him, all of him, the memory of that night in your bedroom back home not too long ago fresh in your mind. You had thought about it countless times since then, normally while Harry was away and you were left to your own devices in the cocoon of your bed. You moaned again at the memory, your thighs stiffening.

“You like that, sunflower?” He egged you on, wanting to earn another sound like the one you’d just made. You gave it to him, unconsciously, the dirty words falling from his lips resting on your shoulders and making your body feel weak and soft. “You like when I fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, huh?”

Another moan around him, his grip on your hair pulling even tighter. It was easy to ignore the sting of your scalp as you found his eyes.

“Should’ve known you would…” He continued, “You're always so good to me, hm? Taking me so well…” Your eyes fluttered closed, watering slightly, your jaw feeling tense and sore even as the rest of your body was overcome with the feeling of Harry inside you. “Look at me, love.”

You did, fluttering your eyelashes at him. His eyes rolled back at the sight of you before pinching closed, almost instantly, his head following suit as it fell again against the mirror. You could tell this was it, the way his body stiffened in front of you. You encouraged him with soft sounds as he finished, his length pushing all the way into your throat. You swallowed around him gratefully, his hold on your hair eventually loosening and allowing you to pull away. You wiped the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand as Harry pulled his tights back up his legs. You clung onto him as you stood, Harry pulling you roughly in for a kiss.

“Was that okay?” He asked into the mess of the kiss, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

He pulled away, just a fraction, to find your eyes. You smiled back at him dreamily, unphased and more than okay as you stared back at him. You leaned back into the kiss, not ready to let him slip away just yet.

“That was amazing.” You assured him, his lips catching between yours as you tried to speak. “So hot.”

“You’re filthy.” He chuckled against you. His hand fell from your face, dropping between your legs. His fingers brushed you over your shorts, your breath catching in your throat at the contact.

“Only for you.” You promised him, the memory of your little spat over Anders still looming over you. There would never be anyone else. Harry never had any reason to worry about anyone, ever. All you wanted was him, over and over and over. Harry’s free arm tightened around you as your legs threatened to give out, his touch moving achingingly slow. He pressed more firmly against you, his fingers creating circles around your throbbing center.

“Only for me, hm?” You could feel his smile pressed against your mouth as you nodded. “You did so good f’me, sunflower. So wet already just having me in your mouth. I can feel it through your shorts.”

A moan fell from your lips as Harry pulled his mouth away from you. His eyes raked up and down your body, still fully clothed, before scanning your face.

“So pretty…” He mused, kissing your cheek once before watching your expression change again as he sped up his movements. “Bet I could make you cum just like this, couldn't I? Don’t even have to touch you..”

“Please…” You whined, knowing he was right but wanting to feel his hands against your skin. He relented, dipping his hands into your shorts and under your tights. He found his place again quickly, resuming his movements as you let out a sign of his name. Your head fell into his chest, his free hand coming up to stroke the back of your hair oh-so tenderly. His movements were gentle and soft, unlike they had been just a few moments earlier.

“I should take you home right now and fuck you, I think.” He wondered allowed into your hair, practically whispering, his lips pressing a sweet kiss on the crown of your head. “Think you deserve it, letting me use your mouth like that. Letting me do whatever I want with you...”

Your stomach dropped, the pent up frustration you’d been trying to quell as you tasted him coming to a head. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, warning you of the approaching orgasm. You wrapped your arms tightly around Harry’s waist, his bare torso giving you nothing to clutch onto. You swore you could feel Harry’s mouth form a smile against your hair, him knowing fully well what was coming.

“You..” You tried to say, pressing a kiss to Harry’s chest as you tried to form the words. “You can do… anything....” You had to pause again, clinging desperately onto Harry. “Anything you want to me.”

“That’s a pretty bold offer.” His voice came from above you, a small chuckle following his words. “I would barely know where to start…”

“H-” You were barely able to say as your chest tightened. “I’m gonna-”

“I got you,” He assured you sweetly, his arms still firmly holding you up. “Cum for me.”

You writhed under his touch, coming completely undone before him. The hand that had been stroking the back of your head came around to cover your mouth and it took everything in you not to sink your teeth into his soft palm as you came. Instead, you pressed a desperate, wet kiss to his fingers in an effort to keep yourself quiet. You whined helplessly as his fingers continued before finally coming to a halt. He removed his hand from his shorts, bringing your face up to kiss him once more.

“Good job.” He praised, a wicked smile on his face. His fingers, still slick, rubbed against your lips. “Open.” He commanded, your jaw falling slack again without a moment of hesitation. You felt the slightest pinch of pain as your mouth opened for him, still sore. He pressed his two fingers into your mouth, pointer and middle, using his free hand to push your mouth closed around them. Your tongue lapped up your own taste from between the two digits, Harry placing the gentlest of kisses against your forehead as you did so. He pulled his hand away, cupping your face. You felt dreamy and drunk and happy as you looked at him, satisfied for the moment. Harry’s thumbs brushed over your cheeks lightly, your skin feeling tingly and sensitive under his touch.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked again, his voice unclouded by lust this time around. His eyes were turned down in concern, his mouth forming the subtlest of frowns.

“No.” You promised, embarrassment an undercurrent beneath your voice. You had never done anything like that with someone, ever. You could only hope it was half as good as what Harry was used to. “I liked it.” You added shyly as an afterthought.

“You’re so hot.” He said, his face breaking open in a smile. “Best I ever had. You did so good.”

“Really?” You asked him, wanting his praise to continue just a little bit longer. You liked the way his tiny affirmations felt against you, warming you in every corner. He nodded.

“You were amazing.” He insisted. “Still think I should take you home, though. Feel like I owe you a reward for your hard work.”

You swallowed again, amazed by how quickly he could heat your body with his words even so soon after you’d gone over the edge. You hadn't even fully recovered yet. You nodded, trying not to look too eager.

“You’d like that?” Harry pushed further, never giving up the chance to hear you whine and beg and plead for him. He was cocky like that, loving the way you were so helpless to resist him. “I was thinking maybe we could take a shower, get all this makeup off and whatnot…”

You nodded again, your puppy dog eyes meeting his wicked gaze. He cracked a crooked smile.

“You’d like that?”

“Yes.”

“Please?”

“Please.”

With that, the two of you turned to the mirror in a hurry, wiping away smeared lipstick and smudged eyeliner. You were both pressed, shoulder to shoulder, leaning towards your reflections. His eyes caught yours in the glass, his mouth offering you one last taunting smile as he used a tissue to wipe the edges of his red-stained mouth. You helped him tie up his costume again, your hands running down the length of the fabric to smooth the crinkled fabric.

You exited the bathroom, Harry’s hand in yours. You both stumbled drunkenly into the hallway, your feet tripping over themselves. You fell into Harry’s chest, his arms quick to catch you. You both were in a fit of giggles, from each other and from the champagne. You were too swept away in the moment to stop yourself, leaning up to Harry to kiss him one more time before you reentered the party. The hallway was empty and dark, and Harry didn’t show any signs of stopping you.

“I love you so much,” He mumbled into your mouth. You responded by pulling him closer, your hands digging into his hair. You had never felt happier than you did, right now, in this moment, promises of all the things Harry would do to you hanging between your bodies. Harry pressed you into the wall, helping to steady your unbalanced body. He was everything to you, especially in this moment. It was like nothing else mattered, or had ever mattered, or ever would. You could have died right here and now and everything would have been perfect. You wouldn’t have had any complaints.

“Hey, Y/N.” You heard a voice come from the end of the hallway. You jumped, pushing Harry’s chest so that he would be forced to take a step back. “Styles, pleasure as always.”

Even in the dim lighting of the hallway, even as the house swayed around you, you could tell instantly who it was. He looked the same as always. He had one shoulder leaned on the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. You didn’t have any words at all to say to him, standing there staring at you with a nasty, smug expression on his face.

“Glad to see you two made up.” Chrisitan said, smiling. He took a step closer to you, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I figured this would happen.”

“No fucking way..” You groaned under your breath, not exactly at him, but loud enough for him to hear. “H, let’s go.”

You took Harry’s hand in yours, Harry leading the way further down the hall. Just as you were about to squeeze past Christian, he stuck out an arm, blocking Harry from moving any further.

“Hey!” Christian said with a bark of a laugh. “Slow down, ‘H’.”

Christian was wearing a devil costume, or a lame attempt at one. It was fitting to say the very least. He had a set of horns on his head, pushing the hair away from his face, his torso donning a red t-shirt. Below that, a regular pair of jeans. “Relax,” He said, still not moving his arm.

“Get away from me, Christian. I’m not joking.” You warned, not wanting to start anything with him. All you wanted to do was get away, to follow Harry outside until a car could come pick you up and take you back to his house. Your head was still foggy, your mouth still tasting faintly of your boyfriend. You could feel that dreamy, soft feeling fleeting all too quickly. You turned to look up at Harry, who had his jaw clenched in discomfort.

“Get away.” You added softly, turning your gaze back to Chistian. You tried to push past him, but he wasn’t relenting. You took a few steps back, wanting to at least put some space between you if you couldn’t get around him. You were so close you could smell that same cologne he always used, his body close enough to you to almost reach out and touch. You went cold with panic, remembering the way his hands had held you down before. The way that same cologne had mixed with the smell of liquor and weed...

More memories flashed through your mind at the scent, Christian laying across your bedroom floor as you sat beside him strumming your guitar absent mindedly. "We should write a song together someday," you had suggested to him then. You remembered Christian helping you carry boxes into your new house the day you moved in. You remembered Christian backstage at your very first show, waiting with flowers to tell you what a great job you’d done. You remembered shaving the parts of his head he couldn’t reach in the bathroom of his house, Logan smoking a joint as she watched from the edge of the tub. You had all laughed so hard that night you thought you were going to pass out from happiness alone. It was evident now more than ever how much time had passed, Christian’s hair grown out again. You searched his face in front of you, trying to catch a glimpse of who you knew back then. You couldn't see it, and it cut you somewhere too deep to soothe.

You had barely thought about him lately, but seeing him again like this was bringing everything back. It hurt worse now, because as those little moments you shared flicked through your mind you realized for the first time how much you missed them. You took another step back, for good measure, wondering if a few more inches between your bodies would make the sting go away.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N. I was only saying hi.”

Christian took another step closer to you in an effort to close the gap, causing Harry to take a step to the side to stand between you two. Christian let out a rotten giggle.

“What do you think you’re gonna do, Styles? Playing hero again as always?”

“Fuck off, mate.”

It scared you that Harry’s body was shaking in front of you. He was nervous. Why would he be nervous? You wanted to scream, or cry, or run down the hallway in the other direction. But you stood there, frozen in place. Part of you wanted to retreat once again into the solace of the bathroom, to feel Harry’s hand wrap around your throat as he buried himself into you. Anything to distract you from all of the things you had tried so hard to forget staring at you from the end of the hallway.

“Fuck off? Try a thank you, maybe.” Christian began. You heard him take another step closer.

“Thank you?” You snapped, walking around Harry’s body so that you could face Christian in front of you. Logan, Rachel, and Anders had heard the commotion, each of them standing dumbfounded at the end of the hallway. Anders especially was confused, looking around at each person’s face to try to gauge whatever was going on. They had walked around the corner just in time to see you lose your grip, finally giving Christian the attention he wanted from you as you raised your voice at him.

“Do you really think Harry would be with you right now if it weren’t for me?” Christian asked, leaning so closely into you now that his face was only a few inches away. You stood your ground, wanting to show him that you weren’t backing down, or scared, or letting him win. Not this time. It was killing you, though, and you were scared. “Isn’t that why he came in to save the day, because you were so torn up over some kiss?”

You thought back, remembering the night Harry showed up at your house after everything happened with Christian. How he had shown up out of the blue, after weeks of not hearing from him. You hated the memory, and you hated Christian for reminding you of it. You shook your head, not even considering the possibility that it had all been a part of some plan. It didn’t make sense. Harry was always there for you when you needed him, especially then, despite everything that had happened between you.

“He came over just in time, huh? You’re so fucking stupid for buying that shit, Y/N. We’re friends and all, but you should’ve seen through that.”

“We’re not friends, Christian.” You said pathetically. "Please move." He didn’t let you leave, though, his condescending smile only intensifying.

“Come on, Y/N. Didn’t you think that was weird? What do you think him and I talked about at the party? Harry here gave me his blessing with you, though I didn’t expect you to put up that much of a fight. Neither of us did.” He paused, reaching out to touch your arm. You pulled harshly out of his grip, which only made him snicker. You wondered if he could see you cracking, if he could see it all falling apart right before his eyes. “Who do you think called the paparazzi that night? I knew they would be there. I had albums to sell, and I knew you were the perfect way to do that. It didn’t go as I’d planned, but it worked nonetheless.”

“What is he talking about?” You asked Harry. He looked at you, eyes wide. Most of what he was saying didn’t surprise you. It was easy to believe he had planned to have the pictures taken. It was easy to believe it was all some fucked up plot of his. But your mind was stuck on what he said about Harry.

“He’s just making shit up, like always.” He promised. He grabbed your hand, pulling you to look at him after taking several steps away from Christian. He grabbed your face roughly. He started whispering now so no one else would be privy to what he was about to tell you. “He’s just trying to get under your skin, sunflower. You know that.”

You looked at him, silently, your mind spinning.

“Anyway, in some weird way I guess you could say I’m responsible for the two of you finally getting together. So, yes, a thank you would be nice.”

Christian stayed where he was, seemingly amused by Harry’s hands cupping your face.

“Fuckin’ leave her alone, man.” Anders said, deciding suddenly to come down the hall towards the devil in front of you. His footsteps were as heavy as always. He was almost pressed against Christian when he finally stopped, his face inches away from his. “She said fuck off. Now go.”

“Who the FUCK do you think you are?” Christian yelled, shoving Anders by the chest. Anders didn’t take it well, shoving Christian back. His shoulders made a loud thud as they hit the wall behind him.

“Don’t fucking try me, asshole.” Anders bit. You couldn’t even interject, too shocked to say or do anything. You wouldn’t have even guessed Anders could speak like that to anyone, the sweet Midwestern boy who was permanently caught in a fit of giggles nowhere to be found. You could see Anders debating as he sized Christian up, his hands in tight fists at his side. Part of you wanted to see Christian get punched in the face, but you knew that wouldn’t look good for anyone.

“What do you even have to do with this?” Christian asked him, steadying himself. Then his face broke out into a smile, a finger coming out to press against Anders chest. “You trying to fuck her, too? It’s not worth the effort, bro.”

He paused for a moment, a lightbulb flickering on above his head before he landed his final blow.

“Or do you just want to buy some more pills? Sorry, bud, I’m fresh out.”

Anders face flickered with panic, his eyes widening. He opened his mouth to speak before giving up.

“Let’s just go,” He decided, beckoning you with a wave of his arm. He looked at Harry, as if waiting for him to do something, anything, his voice shaking slightly with anger. “We can go to my place.”

You were still frozen, though. What was that about?

“Y/N, let’s go.” He repeated, waiting. You took too long though, giving Christian the opportunity to continue on his tirade.

“Harry, you should tell her about that night. You should tell her about all the phone calls we had. Don’t you remember?”

Christian words were venomous now, trying to spit out the rest of what he had to say before anyone had the chance to leave.

“You should’ve heard the things he said about you, Y/N” He continued when he got no response from Harry, pausing to let out a laugh, “It was awful. ‘She’s so obsessed with me, I can’t get her to leave me alone’.”

You hated the way his lips curled into a smile around his words. You hated how his voice mimicked Harry’s accent, exaggerated and ugly.

“What is he talking about?” You asked again, turning to face your supposed boyfriend. Harry shook his head, but no words came out. What the fuck is going on?

“I bet he left that part out, huh?” Christian continued, not bothering to let Harry answer. It didn’t seem like Harry had anything to say for himself, anyway. “He told me allllll about it. About everything. We were all pretty surprised you turned him down to begin with, we all kind of assumed you’d be easier. I decided to have a go, but you’re a stonewall, Y/N. Or at least you were until he came crawling back, huh?”

Harry wouldn’t meet your eyes, staring straight ahead at Christian. There was something off in his gaze, and your stomach fell to your feet as you recognized the expression. It was like he was silently begging Christian to stop, not even looking angry anymore. Only scared.

“That’s enough, man.” Anders chimed in again, though Christian didn’t even seem to hear him. He gestured to you again, silently this time, asking you to come stand next to him.

“I kind of knew it was only a matter of time before you’d end up in his bed. What was it you said, Harry? You’d give it a month?”

“Harry…” The sound was forced from your throat, your airways feeling constricted and tense. Harry finally turned to look at you, shaking his head again silently.

“I didn’t…” He tried to say, his voice giving out before he could finish.

You glanced over Christian’s shoulder at Logan, who had tears streaming down her face. She was always crying at any confrontation.

“Oh, come on, Styles. It’s all out in the open now…. Y/N, Harry and I are quite good friends, don’t you remember?”

You ignored his taunts, pulling your hand out of Harry’s.

“You invited him here.” You said suddenly, your voice forced into a hush so that you wouldn’t scream. You were looking Logan now, her head shaking back and forth quickly. “This is your… your new best friend’s party. You must have told her to put him on the list, right?”

“I didn’t-”

“That’s why you’ve been so weird lately, right? Because you’ve been fucking Christian behind my back? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

You couldn’t help your voice rising now. You felt a tear escape onto your face, but you tried to wipe it away before anyone here would have the satisfaction of seeing you cry. It felt good to finally say it out loud, to finally have it all out in the open. It had been bubbling under the surface for too long now, finally spilling over. You knew it all along.

“I am not!” Logan yelled. Rachel tried to put a hand on her back, which Logan quickly flinched away from. “I wouldn’t fucking do that to you.”

“Then why is he here? Why haven’t I seen you more than five minutes in the last month?”

“Because you’ve been with him!” Logan said, sounding more defeated than angry. She gestured toward Harry with her arm before letting it fall limply back to her side.

“Yeah, while you’ve been FUCKING Christian!” You snapped. You knew your voice could be heard throughout the party at this point. You couldn’t control it, your hands forming small, shaking fists at your side.

She didn’t say anything else, only continuing to cry helplessly as she shook her head back and forth. That’s what you thought. You knew that this was coming, but you’d tried so hard not to see it. It was all so obvious. Logan and Christian. Harry and Christian. It all made sense to you now.

“Y/N, let’s go to my place.” Anders said yet again, walking past Christian. He looked over at Harry, throwing him a look tinged with disappointment. He met his eyes without nervousness. “You can stay with me.” He offered, his voice soft and sweet in stark contrast to all of the harsh tones filling the hallway. You nodded your head.

“Stay out of this, mate.” Harry quipped, apparently finding his voice now that Christian was done. “She barely even knows you, she’s- she’s not coming home with you.”

Anders shook his head at him, giving you one last look before walking away. “Whatever.” He said under his breath, the words lingering in what was now a silent corridor of the house.

You walked down the hallway after him, passed all of them, not bothering to entertain any of them anymore. You weren’t sure where you were going to go, but you knew you had to leave. There were eyes on you as you paced towards the door, but you couldn’t have cared any less. You reached the lawn, Harry and Anders being the only two to follow you out into the yard. Anders stood back, probably unsure what to say or do, as Harry grabbed you again. You pulled away sharply from his hold.

You stormed out into the lawn, Harry close on your heels. The air was crisp and smelled clean, the way October always did. Goosebumps rose on your legs once the cool air hit you, your high heels threatening to sink into the soft grass with every step.

“Y/N, wait.” Harry said, grabbing your wrist yet again. You tried to pull your arm away, not wanting to look at him, but he had a firmer grip this time. You spun around to face him. “Where are you going?” He asked, breathless. His face was coated in a thin veil of sweat and a shattered expression. You hated the way it made your chest sting, wanting nothing more than to collapse into his arms and let him hold you until everything went away.

“I-” You began, realizing you had no answer. “I don’t know.”

Harry stood there silently, pulling his lower lip between his teeth thoughtfully. He dropped your wrist from his hand, trusting that you’d stay. You chose not to betray him, standing there patiently for him to try to explain himself. His arms hung limply at his sides, defeated. It was almost comical, the two of you standing there in these outfits, all teary eyed and serious.

“You don’t seriously believe any of that, do you?” He asked. You huffed a laugh, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I don’t know, Harry.” You said, your words coming out as crisp as the air around you. You really didn’t know what to think. It made sense what Christian had said. They certainly looked quite buddy-buddy at Christian’s party.

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together suddenly in disbelief. He smiled, a hurt, half smile, and shook his head. His eyes found a spot to settle on between your two pairs of shoes, his gaze intense as if he were attempting to count each blade of grass.

Anders took a few steps closer to you, not daring to speak, only the slight squish of his feet in the grass to give away his movements. It hadn’t rained, had it? It never rained in LA... You didn’t bother to look at Anders, not wanting to see the confused look on his face. Instead, you followed Harry’s lead and found a particularly tall blade of grass to focus on. Harry glanced over his shoulder at your only friend left, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he turned back to face you so Anders knew his presence wasn’t welcome. He didn’t take the hint, though, standing a few feet back, observing. There must have been an air around you telling him not to come any closer.

“Y/N he wasn’t even making any sense. You can’t sit here and act like you honestly believe any of that shit. He- He wasn’t even making any sense!”

Harry’s voice came out confident and authoritative, only beginning to waver half way through when you didn’t agree. His words came out rushed then, uncertainty dripping off of every syllable.

“You were talking to him? This whole time?” You asked him, finally meeting his eyes. His mouth was hung open in a mix between disgust and confusion. “You said all of that about me?”

“No! I didn’t! I mean, I talked to him that night but that was it. I haven’t spoken to him since, sunflower, you have to believe me.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The words came out quickly, almost like a defense mechanism. Harry’s face shifted, as if he’d been kicked in the gut. His mouth moved a few times, feebly, trying to find something to say. Any annoyance you had seen in his expression before had melted away, replaced with something that looked like grief and sadness and heartbreak. You couldn’t even stand to look at him.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. It cracked slightly, like glass, and you could feel your body beginning to shake with anger or nervousness or maybe something else all together.

“I don’t know.” You responded truthfully. It was as if you couldn’t stop yourself at this point. It was what you always did, though, wasn’t it? Lashing out at whoever was closest the second you felt cornered? You knew even as it was happening that you were making a mistake, that every word coming out of your mouth was a mistake, and yet you couldn’t manage to stop it. But you were hurt, and confused, and mortified. You imagined Harry and Christian, placing bets on who could get to you first. You imagined Christian laughing along as Harry mocked you, creating some narrative that you were the one begging for him when it had always been the other way around.

“You can’t do this right now, Y/N. You can’t do this.” Harry’s voice was shaking, tears making his already glassy eyes a bit shinier. You turned your face away from his, not wanting to see it happen. “I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t-”

“I don’t know what’s happening, either.” You barked, making Harry flinch slightly. “Apparently I’m the only one who didn’t know what was happening. This entire time. And I’m just… I’m just so fucking tired of looking stupid all the time. Like everyone has this big secret and I’m just standing here fucking oblivious to all of it.”

“Y/N, he’s fucking with you. You have to know that… None of that was true, none of it.”

“How am I supposed to know that, Harry?” You snapped again, your own throat beginning to feel hot with tears. You felt shaken and upside down, completely disoriented and out of place. None of this made sense.

“Because I’m telling you so!” Harry shouted. He threw his hands up in defeat, shaking his head. His face was still soft, not hardening at all like his tone was. He wrapped his large hands around your biceps, as if making sure you wouldn’t go anywhere. “And you’re supposed to believe me.”

You sniffled, pulling out of his arms. You shook your head slowly, facing your feet.

“I don’t know, Harry… It just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Because he’s lying to you, Y/N! He’s lying! I shouldn’t even-” He stopped, throwing his hands around erratically as he spoke. He took a deep breath. “I shouldn’t even have to convince you that he’s lying. You’re supposed to trust me.”

His voice broke on the word ‘trust’. You knew he was right, maybe, but you had reason enough not to trust him, didn’t you?

“I just don’t know.” You cried. You wiped your nose on your sleeve, the sequins scratching your skin. Harry scoffed, running his hands through his hair.

“I can’t believe this.” He uttered under his breath. “You need to know, Y/N. You’re… You’re being insane right now. We shouldn’t even be talking about this.”

“But that’s what always happens, right? Something happens and I’m always just the crazy one? You get to do whatever you want to me and I just forgive you for it.”

Harry took a few steps away from you, as if being near you was painful.

“You- Fuck! You know that’s not true! Why are you acting like this?”

“Because!” You yelled. “Because Harry! You just keep.. You just keep doing things and I’m fucking on my knees for you the next day. No matter what happens. You got what you wanted from me.”

Anders was still close by, his head towards the ground. His hands were fidgeting in front of his body, unsure what else to do.

“No, Y/N. You don’t get to do this. I know I messed up, but you never fucking listen to me.”

“You keep running away!”

“Because you keep PUSHING!”

You didn’t say anything. Harry brushed the hair out of his face, limp curls falling to kiss his forehead. He paused for a moment, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands before looking up at the sky. He took a deep, uncertain breath.

“You do this to everyone. You push everybody away.”

There was more. You didn’t say a word, wanting him to go ahead and say whatever it was that he so desperately wanted to say. You were so tired of being tiptoed around, of having things hidden from you that you almost wanted him to yell at you. To tell you exactly what it was that was going on in his head, for once. He took the opportunity, quickly finding the rest of the things he wanted to say.

“You never even give me a chance to explain myself, Y/N. You don’t. You always take his word over mine. And I’m standing here telling you that none of that was true and you’re just… ignoring me!” Harry glanced over his shoulder, noticing Anders still close by. He lowered his voice. “You don’t get to keep doing that. You don’t get to make me the bad guy every time something happens. I’ve done everything....” His voice broke again, betraying the harshness he had tried to give to his tone. “I’ve done everything to make it all up to you. But none of that is true. You have to believe me.”

You looked at him, really looked, taking in the way his brows pinched in the middle. You took in the way his lips looked, the way his eyes were shimmering. You shook your head at him, walking away.

“Where are you going?” He asked, jogging after you. You stopped, turning back to him.

“To Anders house.” You answered. Anders looked up at you, his eyes wide. He looked like he wanted no part in any of this, standing there as uncomfortable as you’d ever seen him. Harry laughed, a tight, humorless sound.

“No you’re not.” He said, his voice firm.

He took you by the wrist, like he always did. He pulled you to his chest, kissing you hard. You could practically feel the panic rolling off of him when you didn’t reciprocate, his hands clutching desperately at your cheeks.

“No.. you’re not.” He said again, almost begging. His pleas came out, rushed and broken between kisses. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. You know I do. I love you.”

You pushed away from him, not allowing yourself to fall into his kiss. Harry’s heart was breaking right in front of you. You could see it all over his face. Let it, you thought. Yours had broken a million times, over and over. Why should you be the only one?

“You can’t leave.” Harry continued pleading. You walked towards Anders, who was still standing there dumbfounded. Harry spoke as he followed. “Please, sunflower. Come home with me and I can try to explain everything. I did talk to him that night at his party, I told you that. He asked me about you and I said that we weren’t together. That’s it. He- He said he was going to try to talk to you. And I was embarrassed… I was hurt, and I told him to go for it. I was trying to seem.. I don’t know. I didn’t want anyone to know how fucked up I was over everything. I knew I shouldn’t have told him that, but he was your friend. I didn’t think anything would happen. I didn’t think that would happen.”

“Well it did, Harry.” You said. Your voice came out cold. You knew how unfair it was to pin all of that on him, but you also knew how deeply it would cut him. You couldn’t stop the words.

“So you’re just going to take his word over mine, then? After everything-”

“After what? After you got your quick fuck? After you… you had me every way you wanted to?”

“Stop fucking saying that!” He broke. You could tell he was close to giving up, his hands coming up to cover his eyes. He sighed deeply. “How many times am I going to have to tell you? I’ve loved you since I met you. Everything I did.. I did it because I loved you. I tried letting you go, I tried explaining myself. I tried everything. And now.. I can’t let you walk away now. Not after everything.”

“You told him to “have a go” at me, Harry. You were… what? Competing to see who would fuck me first? I would never talk about you like that behind your back, Harry, never.”

You were struggling to keep the tears at bay so much so that you started choking on your words, your chest aching by the time you finished your thought. Harry bit his lip, hard, stopping himself from saying… something.

“That’s not what happened.” Was all he offered, his words short and detached. You shook your head, disappointed.

“What happened then?“

“I told you what happened.” He continued, his body relaxing slightly at your offer to hear him out. It wasn’t that you believed him, or wanted to hear his side. You wanted to see him struggle to dig himself out of the hole he’d created for himself. “He asked about me and you, and I said we weren’t together. Yeah, I told him I tried it with you but all I said was that you weren’t interested. He said something about asking you out, and I told him to go for it. And I am so, so fucking sorry for that. I didn’t tell him to fuck you- You think I wanted that? It was killing me imagining you with him. It killed me, sunflower.”

You didn’t bother correcting him on the nickname again. You weren’t satisfied, waiting for him to continue.

“There is no way I could’ve known what would happen. I.. I don’t own you. So if you didn’t want me, then why couldn’t he ask you out? Who was I to tell him no? I never said anything else. I didn’t tell him anything about us, Y/N. I would never.”

You looked away from his rosy face, towards the stars that seemed to be hung on every word. You didn’t know what to do. You felt embarrassed and stupid. The thought of Harry and Christian talking about you, about all the things Christian said… it made your stomach turn.

“Maybe I just need to think about it.” You said. Your resolve was breaking, your anger fading away in sheets at the sight of Harry in pieces in front of you.

“Think about what? We can’t just be friends again. We can’t. There’s nothing to think about.”

“That’s not what I said, Harry. I said I need to think.”

He closed his eyes, struggling to center himself.

“And let’s say you go home and ‘think about it’,” His fingers formed little quotations around his words, “What then? The only option is for you to get over it or for us to break up. And I can’t be your friend, Y/N, no matter how much I love you. I can’t do that.”

He waited for your answer, his face annoyed and impatient. He raised his eyebrows at you, pressuring you for a response.

It wasn’t fair. Couldn’t you at least have the night to sober up? Couldn’t you at least have the time to think about what had happened? What if Chrisitan was telling the truth? Would you even be able to look passed it?

“I don’t know, Harry. Maybe we need to be. For now.”

You wanted to take the words back instantaneously. That wasn’t what you wanted to say. No. No no no.

“No..” He echoed your thoughts, backing away from you slowly. “No. Not because of this. I can’t.”

You tried to think of some way to backpedal, to save whatever was left between you. “I just need some time… I just need some time to think about it, Harry. Please.”

You hadn’t noticed it happen, but you were crying now. Fully crying ugly, messy tears. Your chest rattled, your shoulders shaking with every sob that crashed over you.

“So what are you going to do, then? Write another song about how awful I am?” Harry snapped. Something was different in him now, his face hard and devoid of any of the sweet, gentle feelings he supposedly held for you.

“What?”

“Your song. I didn’t like it, Y/N. I didn’t. It was mean, and nasty, and dramatic. But you know what?” Harry paused, letting the question hang over you. He laughed as he waited, sounding exasperated. “I got over it. I moved on and I let it go because I love you. I always let things go. Every time you’ve disappeared, or turned me down, or told me I didn’t care about you. I let it go. Every. Single. Time. But you never do the same for me. You get so mad at me for everything, even the things I didn’t fucking do!”

“You’ve done terrible things to me, Harry.” You whispered. You should’ve seen this coming, knowing how Harry always acted when he snapped like this. The second his feelings were hurt, he hit you in all of your weakest points, on purpose. You tried not to let it get to you, but the ice in his gaze made it impossible.

“Like what, Y/N? Getting a girlfriend because you didn’t want to be with me? Having sex with you at some party, like I have with a million other people? Everyone does that, Y/N. You just make everything a big deal when it doesn’t fucking have to be.”

The air was knocked out of you. You gasped, literally, unable to process the words he was throwing at you. He was speaking so quickly now, his choice of words no longer thought out or deliberate. He spat each syllable at you.

“And the time I fucked you at the party? You can’t pretend like you didn’t want it. I asked you over and over if it was okay. I did it because I wanted you, sunflower. You can’t hold that against me forever.” You couldn’t even look at him anymore, closing your eyes. “It’s so… it’s so fucking unfair for you to do that to me, you know that? I feel like such a prick when you bring it up. And you bring it up all the fucking time!”

You could tell he instantly regretted what he’d said, walking back over towards you quickly.

“I didn’t mean that. I just mean-”

“I heard you.” You cut him off. You turned on your heel, walking towards the street. You hoped Anders would know to follow you, unsure what your plan was once you reached the street a few feet away. Before you could make it very far, though, Harry ran around to your front, stopping you with two firm hands on your shoulders. You didn’t even try to push him away this time, simply staring up at him. He was crying again.

“I didn’t mean that.. I.. We can’t break up, Y/N. We can’t.” He said to you. You could tell he was embarrassed, looking all around him as he spoke. His eyes fell on Anders, just for a second, before looking back to you. He sniffled, his nose running ever-so-slightly along with his eyes. “Please, sunflower. I’m begging you, please. I love you.”

You didn’t respond, still trying to process everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Harry continued as you stood there, silent.

“I shouldn’t have said any of that, okay? I’m sorry. But I do feel bad about it, and I just-” He choked, restarting his sentence. “I just want you to do the same for me that I always do for you. Can we please just let it go? I didn’t say any of that shit to Christian. I would tell you the truth, I always do.”

You were totally numb, unable to answer. You didn’t nod, or try to walk away, or even cry. You just looked at him. You hated him in this moment, for the first time ever. You hated him, in a place somewhere so deep inside of you you hadn’t even known was there. You hated him because he was right.

“Please. I’ve never… I’ve never loved anybody like this before, ever. I can’t-” He choked on his words, taking a slow, shaking breath as his eyes glanced quickly above his head. He was moments away from shattering, you could tell. “Please don’t. What do you think I did? You think I told him to hit on you so I could come swoop in? You know that doesn’t make sense. I haven’t talked to him, not at all. Not at all, Y/N, I haven’t. I haven’t.”

Harry’s head fell, the only indication that he was crying coming from the way his head bobbed slightly as it faced the ground. His soft sniffles tore you apart as you gazed at him. He looked back down at you, pulling you in one last time for a kiss. You couldn’t stop your lips moving with his time time. Harry signed, relieved, into your mouth. You whispered that you loved him too, because it was true. Eventually, you pulled away, rubbing at your eyes.

“I just want some time, Harry.” You whispered back to him. His eyes closed firmly, squeezing out a few more tears. He couldn’t bear to hear you say it, shaking his head harshly.

“No. No. We can go inside, right now. We need to go inside.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Listen to me.” He said harshly. You nodded. “We have to go inside, now. We’re both going to have a lot of explaining to do when these pictures show up online tomorrow morning. We need to go inside.”

“I don’t want to go back inside, Harry. I- I can’t.” You repeated, harder this time.

“Y/N- Fuck! Y/N, you might not care about what people say about you, but I do. I do care. Please, for me, let’s go inside. Please.”

“You didn’t care when you were with her.” You said, knowing that that wasn’t what he meant. He removed his hands from you.

“Oh my god, Y/N!” He said, trying to keep his voice down but struggling to control his volume. “Come ON. Let’s go.”

You considered it for a minute. You always followed him, wherever he wanted to go. You followed him onto balconies, into bathrooms, into empty bedrooms at parties. You owed it to yourself to at least think this over. He was starting to get to you, his words worming their way into your brain. You needed some space to think clearly. You shook your head.

“I have to go.” You whispered. Harry fell, crouching in front of you. He covered his face with his hands. “Just for the night. Just let me think about it, okay? I just need to think about it.”

Harry didn’t say a word. He stayed where he was, on the ground. You couldn’t leave him like that. You dropped to your knees with him, your tights instantly dampening as they pressed into the grass.

“Anders, could you please give us a moment?” You said, looking over your shoulder. He nodded wordlessly before sauntering off, unsure. Harry looked up, wiping black eyeshadow from under his eyes. His eyes didn’t meet yours.

“What the fuck was he doing just standing there like that?” Harry snapped after a few moments. “He’s, like, obsessed with you or something.”

“No he’s not.” You said. You wanted to reach out and touch him, to brush the stray hair away from his damp forehead. You didn’t, though, just watching him. “He’s my friend, Harry. He’s just… worried about me.”

“He doesn’t need to worry about you.” He whispered, sounding almost like a child. “That’s my job.”

Your chest swelled. Fuck it, you thought. Let Harry say what he wanted about you. Let him do whatever he wanted, as long as he was yours. You were too tired to keep fighting, too drunk and too in love. You reached out, touching Harry’s cheek as softly as you could to see if he would pull himself away.

“So what, you’re not going home with him now? Finally sent him away?” Harry spat, remaining in his spot on the ground. He took your hand in his own though, holding your fingers against his face. “Figured you might just go all the way this time, since I interrupted you two before.”

“Stop it.” You told him, trying to sound firm but sounding weak and broken. You brushed your fingers along the soft stubble of his face, Harry’s head leaning into your touch. He nodded, agreeing to your plea.

“Sorry.” He mumbled to the ground. He sniffles one more time.

Crickets chirped around you, silently applauding what they didn’t understand. You took a second to enjoy their song, imagining just for a second that you were back at home, far away from all of this. You remembered how the crickets sang the same way for you when you swam in Layla backyard, the sky turning a deep orange. That color that only felt that warm in the suburbs.

“I don’t know what to say.” You told him after a few loaded, silent minutes. He shrugged, annoyed and hurt.

“You said what you needed to, I think.”

“You honestly can’t see why I’m upset?” You asked him. He stood, offering you a hand to bring you with him. You accepted, his fingers all too quick to release yours once you were upright.

“Sure, Y/N.” He answered. There were no more tears. No more emotion in his voice. “But I’m telling you it isn’t true, and you don’t believe me. What else do you want me to do?”

And so you both stood there, silently.

“I didn’t mean what I said.” You decided out loud. You hadn’t meant it. Something in Harry’s expression told you you might have waited too long to take it back, though, lines appearing around his mouth like parentheses as he frowned toward you. His chin quivered slightly, the only sign left that he still cared at all.

“You always say things you don’t mean. You never…” he paused, pressing his mouth against his hands that were pressed together as if in a prayer. “You just don’t think sometimes. It hurts me, Y/N.”

“You do too, Harry.” You reminded him, his words from just a few minutes prior still stinging your skin. You tried to removed the bite from your tone, tiptoeing around him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I love you. I believe you.”

“I mean what I say.” He assured you harshly, ignoring the rest of what you’d said. “And I know just because I mean them doesn’t mean I should say them out loud. But you… you just say anything.”

“So you meant what you said just now? All of that?”

“Of course I did.”

Ouch. So much for chalking it up to the heat of the moment. At least you knew now how he really felt.

“You know, no matter how mad I got at you I wouldn’t ever threaten to leave with my ex like that. Imagine if I had done that just now? Imagine if I would’ve spent a week at her house while you were away? You never would’ve spoken to me again.” Harry continued. His arms were crossed, blocking his body off from yours. You knew he was right.

“Anders isn’t my ex. He’s just-“

“A friend. Right.” Harry finished for you. “The friend whose lap I found you sitting on. Nothing that I should worry about.”

“I told him-"

“I don’t care what you told him!” He snapped. “If the roles were reversed, we’d be done! You know that’s true! Why am I always…”

“Let’s just go, Harry. We can talk about it tomorrow, when we feel better.”

“I’m still talking.” He snapped again, holding a finger in your face to silence you. “I’m always expected to let everything go. And I don’t think you’ll ever do the same for me, Y/N. I don’t.”

“I will, Harry.” You swore. How did he do this? How did this always happen, this role reversal? You were always the one who apologized in the end, no matter what happened. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again-"

“Don’t call me that.”

He turned, walking back towards the house. You didn’t bother following, standing there stupid and alone. All you could do at this point was cry.

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