Tumgik
#if he has to die then at least he died like that ya know?
izzy-b-hands · 11 months
Text
Memorial icon change to Tits Out Izzy. Would he appreciate it? Potentially, but he'd also still probably call me a twat for it (and I would be honoured 🖤❤️)
3 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 26 days
Text
i'm glad i get forever to see where you end
check all tags on and read if you prefer on ao3
rated e, minors dni
happy birthday to my wife in all but law, @messessentialist. this whole idea came out of nowhere and then just kept growing and growing, much like my love for you. anytime you're ready to live our rv life dreams, i'm ready.
i'm not gonna post any links here, but just know i had 8 tabs open of different fish and birds that can be seen in and around indiana lakes. i didn't have a particular lake in mind, but there are plenty to choose from so if it matters to you, i mostly looked at lakes in the northeast and northwest area of indiana.
title is lyrics from forever by noah kahan, which is a song you should absolutely listen to if you haven't before.
this work is for sadie. if she is the only one who reads this, then that's all that matters to me.
//////////////////////////////////////////
🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣
He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.
But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.
“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”
Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.
For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.
For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.
He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.
And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.
He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.
He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.
It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.
Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.
But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.
Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.
“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”
Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.
“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”
“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”
Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”
He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.
Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.
“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”
This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.
“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”
Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.
“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.
“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”
And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.
“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”
“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.
“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”
Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.
Hearing it changes something in Wayne.
“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.
“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”
“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”
They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.
A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.
“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.
“Sure is.”
“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.
“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.
“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”
Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.
“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”
Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.
“I’m an orphan!”
Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.
“Sorry, what?”
“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.
“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”
“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”
“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”
Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.
He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.
“Let’s eat.”
- - -
Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.
Wayne’s been waiting.
Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.
“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.
“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.
“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”
He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.
Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.
It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.
It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.
“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”
“Could Steve come?”
“Sure.”
He agrees without a second thought.
This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.
Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.
“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”
Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.
- - -
Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.
But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.
“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.
“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”
“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”
Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.
“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”
“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.
“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”
Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.
He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.
He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.
“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.
“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”
“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.
“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”
“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”
“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.
But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.
“Steve, I feel like-“
“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”
Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”
“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”
“Not surprising.”
“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”
Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”
Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.
- - -
The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.
Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.
It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.
They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.
Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…
“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.
“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”
“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”
He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.
His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.
Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.
But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.
He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.
Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.
“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.
“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.
“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”
“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”
Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.
Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.
As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.
Steve doesn’t notice him.
- - -
The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.
When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.
Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.
It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.
“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”
“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.
“Rock, paper, scissors?”
“That’s stupid.”
Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”
“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”
Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.
He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.
“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.
“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”
Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.
“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”
“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.
“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.
Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.
He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.
They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.
“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”
“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”
Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.
“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”
“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”
Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.
“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.
“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”
Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.
“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”
Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.
He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.
“You mean everything to me.”
Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.
Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.
He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.
He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.
Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.
He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.
This wasn’t a dream, though.
They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.
He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.
Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.
Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.
“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.
“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”
Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”
This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.
In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.
A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.
Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.
That’s just who Steve is.
Eddie loves him for it.
“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”
Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.
He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.
“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”
“That sounds boring.”
Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.
It’s easy.
A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.
“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.
“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.
Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.
He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.
“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.
Steve relaxes and sighs.
“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”
“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”
“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”
Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”
“A kiss.”
Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.
“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”
Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.
“One kiss.”
“Only one?” Eddie pouts.
“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”
“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.
Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.
He gets to look now.
After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.
He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.
“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.
“Like you wanna eat me.”
“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”
Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.
“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.
Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.
When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.
“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”
Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.
Steve wordlessly points it out to him.
“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.
“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”
“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.
“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”
Wayne nods. “And the bait.”
“I thought we used plastic stuff.”
“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”
Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”
“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.
“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”
They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.
Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.
Or tomorrow.
“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.
Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.
“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.
“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”
Eddie nods and leaves the room.
He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.
He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.
But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.
Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Being on the boat is different as an adult.
The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.
This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.
Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.
“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”
Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.
Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”
Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.
It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.
They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.
Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.
He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.
Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.
Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.
When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”
Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.
Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.
“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.
The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.
“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”
Steve nods and turns back.
Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.
Eddie watches Wayne curiously.
Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.
Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”
“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.
Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.
“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.
“It won’t. Keep going.”
When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.
“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”
Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.
“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.
“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”
Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.
“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”
Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”
Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.
Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.
He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.
“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.
“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”
Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.
They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.
Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.
So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.
He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.
He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.
He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.
He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.
📼📼📼📼📼
Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.
He’s never been happier.
He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.
Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.
Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.
After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.
Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.
Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.
“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”
Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.
As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.
“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.
“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”
“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.
“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”
“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”
Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.
“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”
“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”
“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.
“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.
Steve shakes his head, watching closely.
“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”
Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.
“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”
Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.
“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”
Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.
“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”
Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.
“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”
Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.
“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”
Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.
“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”
Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.
All he really has is Wayne.
“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”
Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.
But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.
“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”
“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”
Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.
“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.
“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”
Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.
Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.
As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.
“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.
“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”
“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.
“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.
“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”
“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.
“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”
Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.
It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.
He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.
Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.
And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.
Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.
“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”
Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.
“Sounds good.”
Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.
“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.
“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”
Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.
They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.
Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.
He doesn’t care to hide it.
Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.
“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.
“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.
“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”
Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.
Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.
He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.
“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.
Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.
“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”
They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.
It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.
“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”
Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.
To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.
“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”
Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”
“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”
“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”
Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”
Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.
“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.
“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.
Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.
When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.
He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.
But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.
“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.
“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.
“Now.”
“It’s dark.”
“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.
“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.
“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.
Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.
“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.
“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”
Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.
Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.
“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.
Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.
When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.
“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”
“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”
Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.
Being here with Eddie is perfect.
Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.
“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.
“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.
“Just a little more.”
Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.
When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.
Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.
“Okay?” Steve asks.
Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”
Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.
“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”
Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.
“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”
Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.
“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”
Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.
“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”
Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.
“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”
Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.
“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”
Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.
“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”
Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.
But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.
“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”
Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”
Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”
Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.
Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.
“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”
Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.
“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.
“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”
“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”
Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.
“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.
“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”
Steve nods. That’s all he can do.
Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.
Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.
Eddie shivers in his arms.
“Cold?” Steve whispers.
Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”
So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.
When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.
They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.
Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.
The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.
“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.
“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”
Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.
“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.
Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.
“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.
“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.
Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.
Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.
“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.
Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.
“New record for me, too, baby.”
“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.
“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.
“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”
“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.
“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”
“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.
“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.
Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.
“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”
Steve smiles shyly back at him.
“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”
Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.
“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”
“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.
“I really do.”
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.
Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.
He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.
Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.
The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.
He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.
His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.
Eddie is close enough now.
It’s definitely a heart.
“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”
“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”
“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”
“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.
“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”
“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”
“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”
“So do I.”
Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.
“Fine.”
As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.
“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.
“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”
Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”
“Touché.”
Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.
“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”
“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”
“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.
Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.
“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.
“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.
“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”
Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.
He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.
Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”
Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.
“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”
“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”
Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.
“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.
“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“
Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.
“Jesus, the mouth on you.”
“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”
“I’ll make the rest.”
Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.
He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.
He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.
This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.
🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣
five years later
Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.
When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.
“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.
“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”
Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”
“Oh no.” Steve groaned.
Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.
Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.
“I hate the outdoors.”
“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.
Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.
He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.
Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.
They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.
“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”
“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”
Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.
“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.
“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”
“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”
As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.
He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.
Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.
“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.
“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.
“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.
“Ha!” Steve yells.
Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.
396 notes · View notes
ryescapades · 2 months
Note
Hii! Can I have a request for Soshiro Hoshina with fem reader? They're both childhood friends, Soshiro as a kid made a promise that he would marry reader when they both grow up.
As they grew up as adult, both promoted in third division. Reader thinks Soshiro would forget their childhood promises and thinks it just a puppy crush, but Soshiro really mean it and fall for her as well.
sweetheart | hoshina soshiro
genre/warning: fem!reader, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, hint of angst but it's not heavy at all, reader is lowkey a little dense lol, there's like one curse word i think, not sure if i characterised hoshina correctly in this one hm a/n: kinda long fic below! listening to my fav mafiyami playlist while i'm writing this teehee also i'm bad at writing smooching scenes so don't mind me writing the bare minimum
Tumblr media
"soshiro, i heard from your father that you want to work in the defense force... is that right?" seven year old you had asked one day when you were lounging at one of the many engawa's in the hoshina's family estate.
"oh, that! yeah, i'm gonna grow up and become an officer in the defense force! the coolest of them all, in fact!" soshiro, your best friend boasted as he threw you a wide grin. you frowned, feeling your imaginative ears drooping slightly, "but is it not scary though? what if you die fightin' the monsters? you're gonna leave me alone that way,"
soshiro's grin dropped, a pensive look marring his round, chubby-cheeked face. his little mind did quite the thinking before he turned to look at you, eyes bright and sparkling. "if so, let's get married."
you had choked on your saliva, thinking your little admiration for him had been exposed somehow. "w-what do you mean get married?!" soshiro only looked at you with a certain look, as if the answer wasn't obvious already. "well if i'm goin' to die anyways, shouldn't we be spendin' all the time we have together? that's the easier way, right?"
the way he said it sounded so simple, like learning the alphabets or understanding the sky is blue. be with him until he dies, that's what you'd understood and it did not sit well with you, so you declared, "then i want to become an officer together with you! if you die, i die!"
at that, soshiro's grin returned. "so it's settled then." you gave him a smile as a response before feigning a pout, "but you better not forget about it when we're old enough though!"
"yes, yes, i won't. i promise i'm goin' to marry ya when we grow up!"
˚ ༘��� ⋆。˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
promises are meant to be broken.
at least, that's what you'd grown to believe now that you're an adult with a respectable yet demanding (and risky) job. promise to hang out with an old friend, only to be cancelled when duty called. promise to try out that one restaurant that was newly opened, only for it to be destroyed in a kaiju attack. promise to change the broken thermostat at your apartment, only to leave it unfixed because you're rarely ever home anyways.
and promise to be married to your childhood best friend when you're older, only for it to be forgotten by said friend.
it's pathetic, really.
why are you the only one falling, the only one whose feelings got more intense as the years went by? sometimes you even struggled with your own emotions, not knowing how to handle yourself around the one who has been in your heart for god knows too long. but knowing that he's there, still close by even to this day, soothed your pain just a little bit.
after being appointed as the third division's vice-captain, you had successfully followed in soshiro's footsteps by being scouted by captain ashiro herself to transfer into the same division, though with your average combat power, you were only at the officer level.
you've been working hard since then, of course. your captain even complimented that if you had asked of her, you could be assigned to the platoon leader position soon enough. not to add soshiro had also occurred the same thing and more, which had you blushing to the tips of your toes.
if anything, being a high-ranked officer in the same division just means being in the vicinity of your crush more often and with how you've been holding on mentally, you don't think you're ready to take on that problem as of yet.
it's not like you and soshiro grew apart. no, gods no. as a matter of fact, you two grew even closer, especially now that you're working in his division. and that's exactly the thing; you can't go a day without thinking about how attractive he looks that day, or how nice his voice is when he talks, how beautifully lethal he becomes while fighting off a kaiju or how good he's been to you the past few years. as if he wasn't when you were still a child.
however, you believe that's only because the two of you have been friends for so long. you know him— or at least you'd like to think that you do. if he holds you in the same regard that you do for him, he'd tell you himself. this is soshiro we're talking about; intuitive, easygoing yet determined soshiro. hence, if he's never brought up about that promise, it's either he all forgot about it or he simply doesn't feel the same for you.
get over this puppy crush first. that way you can fully focus on doing your job if you're ever to become a platoon leader, you think as you finish the last of your training, standing upright to wipe the sweat from your forehead.
you walk over to the shelves, about to put your weapons back in their place when a call of your name startles you. you turn around, eyes wide. "holy shit, soshi- vice captain! don't scare me like that, please. i'm holding dangerous stuff here as you can see," you chastise after seeing your best friend at the door of the training room, gesturing to the weapons in your hands as your heart thuds loudly in your chest, although this time it's not because of the earlier jump scare.
soshiro laughs. "sorry, didn't mean to surprise ya." he says. you roll your eyes playfully before you stare at him for a moment, waiting for him to voice out whatever it is that he's here for but he stays quiet, gazing back at you leisurely with his slanted eyes. you try not to flush under his scrutiny, swiveling back around to eventually put aside your weapons.
"i told ya to call me soshiro when we're alone, right? why the sudden formality?" he starts, voice tinged with a hint of teasing. "well, you are my superior. it's a must to address you properly, no?" you casually brush off. you don't notice the way soshiro's jaw uneasily move at your statement, currently too busy checking the notifications in your phone.
"anyway, are you here to train? i'll pass you the room keys if you are." you say, still not looking at him. when once again he doesn't give an immediate reply, you peer up at him with an eyebrow raised. soshiro then offers you small smile, "walk with me?" he asks instead.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
you somehow find yourself going on a stroll with your vice-captain (who's also your best friend and longtime crush) in the street just outside the tachikawa base. "any particular reason why we're out here when i should be inside taking a much needed shower after my workout?" you jokingly ask, staring at the people walking by and nodding politely towards those who greet you.
soshiro gives you a side glance, smiling. "just needed some fresh air." he simple states, making you throw out a skeptical look. "yeah, nice try. if that's the reason, you could've opened the windows in your office. you got a lot of them," you point out, nudging his shoulder which he returns, and now the two of you are having a mini nudging competition until eventually your giggles die down, "no, seriously though. why are we here, soshiro?"
the foxy eyed male exhales a small puff of air before shrugging, "maybe i've been missing you." your head spins to him, eyes blinking a few times, trying to keep your mind from thinking more of what he probably meant by that before you send a smirk his way. "hah! i knew you couldn't live without me bugging you, hm? what are best friends for, right?" you almost grit your teeth, the words feeling like venom in your mouth.
unbeknownst to you, his responding chuckle is almost reluctant. "yeah, you're right." soshiro utters. "apparently the presence of your annoying ass is crucial for me to keep livin'," he sarcastically says, making you jab at his side. "excuse me, you're annoying!" you laugh.
your eyes lock with his crimson ones, and your breath stutters at the soft, almost fond look he's wearing. "w-well, now that i'm here, surely you can go about your incoming days with no trouble!" you play it off, feeling the slight embarrassment creeping up. the fog seems to lift from soshiro's gaze as he faintly shakes his head, his smile now looking all the more cheeky. "uh-huh, i sure hope so."
"yeah, you better be! but don't come crying to me when something minimal inconveniences you or something. i'm just your friend, after all. not your mom."
"....please stop saying that,"
his slow reply had your steps faltering, taken aback. "d-did i... say something wrong?" you stammer in surprise, not expecting him to suddenly sound so... upset?
you catch sight of soshiro's downturned face, "sorry, whatever it is that i said—" you try to apologize but he instantly cuts you off, "right, you kept talkin' like being my friend is a job."
you freeze in your place, "pardon? no! that's not what i meant when i—"
you're about to snap when he interrupts you again but his next words have you recoiling in shock, "did you forget about our promise?" he asks in a low mutter.
wait, what...?
"excuse me?! i thought you had forgotten about it!" you exclaim, genuinely offended.
"i hadn't. i have never. not when—" the violet-haired man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, feeling troubled for a while before he speaks again. "not when you've been such a constant in my life, y/n. you're my one and only best friend, and i've been in love with you my whole life..." he trails off, looking away to the side in agitation.
it's quiet. the park where the two of you have arrived at a few minutes ago is silent, save for the gentle whoosh of the breeze blowing, making the leaves rustle gently around you. however, it's loud in your head. you ears feel deafening. million thoughts are running through your head, overwhelming you all at once.
hoshino soshiro... is in love with you? it's not one-sided? what, how, why, since when? have you been missing the signs all these times?
soshiro peers at you, gauging your lack of reaction. he tries to catch your gaze but the sight of your unfocused eyes and red cheeks had him smiling softly. "do i need to kiss ya to prove my feelings?"
it seems impossible but your body heats up even more, finally getting out of your previous stupor. "w-wait, what the hell! y-you can't just drop that so casually, what?! explain yourself! why didn't you tell me that sooner? especially about our promise!" you point a finger accusingly at him.
he stands with his arms behind his back, looking like the cunning fox he's always known to be with the pleased expression now growing on his face. he then takes a few steps towards you, taking your hands in his. "what else is there to say? i love you, sweetheart. and i've never forgotten that promise we made when we were younger. hm, actually... how about we make good on our words and get married right n—"
at this point, your insides are combusting with how fast your blood has been flowing in your body. "okayyy, i love you too but i think that's enough embarrassment for today!" you pull a hand away and push your palm in his direction, wanting to stop his face from getting closer.
soshiro lets out a relieved laugh, dodging away from your hand before slowly putting his forehead against yours. you glance down at his lips distractedly. "actually, you know what? maybe you should kiss me. uh, you know... as proof... or whatever," you whisper, watching the corners of his mouth tilts at the corner. "yeah? ya think so too?" he murmurs.
your little "mhm," is the only reply he needs before he leans in, connecting his mouth with yours. fireworks spark in the depth of your stomach when soshiro cradles your face affectionately, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as the two of you move in sync, wanting to etch the feeling and taste of the other's lips into your minds.
when you finally pull away, none of you make a move to get out of the embrace as he props his head back against yours, inhaling sharply. "fuck, you don't know how long i've been wantin' to do that," he groans as your lashes flutter slightly at the sound of his thick accent. he makes a move to dive in again but you suddenly grab his shoulder, putting a distance between you two.
"alright, as much as i love how this turned out, i really need to take a shower. i stink, soshiro." you grumble, reluctant to ruin the mood which makes him snicker. "okay, okay, fine. let's go back for now. i'll find ya again at dinner. how's that?" he inquires, intertwining his hand with yours as you two make your way back to the base.
"yeah, sure thing. also, does this mean i'm your girlfriend now?"
"oh? and here i thought we already established that we're married?" soshiro questions, his free hand coming up to rub his chin in exaggerated contemplation. "what? no, we didn't. stop being hasty, will you?!" you reprimand lightheartedly.
he sighs dramatically, "that so? well, i guess ya just have to stick with bein' my stinky girlfriend then."
"hey!"
Tumblr media
©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !
341 notes · View notes
arc-misadventures · 17 days
Note
Nora has a new game to torment her friends with because why not? And to give her favorite people a small break from FMK. The game: Would You Rather. Her first contestant/victim, Jaune. Because why not? He can do with a nice change of pace. He seems to almost expect Nora to ask FMK at this point. Gotta keep him on his toes ya know?
Jaune WYR: marry Tifa or Aerith from FF7?
Jaune: WYR
Nora: Hey, Jaune! I got a new game we can play!
Jaune: If it’s anything like, MFK, MFE, or BMI I will strap you to a chair, and make you watch dog movies.
Nora: How is that a threat?
Jaune: Sad dog movies where the dog may, or may not die in the end!
Nora: (Horrified gasp!)
Nora: You’re a monster!
Jaune: I am my monsters gatekeeper, Nora. Keep on pushing my buttons any further, and I will let them out to play~!
Nora: Ahhhhh?!!?!
Nora: WYR!
Jaune: Eh?
Nora: Would You Rather!
Jaune: Eh?
Nora: Would you rather marry, Tifa, or Aerith from FF7!
Jaune: …
Jaune: Haaa… Okay, listen up, Nora. I have never played, FF7, I’ve seen videos… well, it was more of a movie considering how many cutscenes there was in that remake they did. But, I barely know anything about FF7, and the characters in it.
Jaune: I know they’re both… terrorist, rebels? One of the two, they’re interchangeable. They’re involved in this weird love triangle with, Cloud. I think…?
Jaune: I know, Aerith is the flower girl who dies, and that made everyone sad… for some reason.
Jaune: And, I know, Tifa is the eye candy/waifu of the, Final Fantasy series… at least I think she is…? All because she has… did…? She has a big rack!
Jaune: And, there was that whole, Italian fiasco…
Nora: The what?
Jaune: I know the bare bones about the game! So I’m going to have to pick, Tifa!
Nora: Because of her boobs?
Jaune: Because of her big boobs!
Nora: Really? I thought you would make a more in depth, and well thought out choice.
Jaune: Nora, if you look at the pair from just from the character designs, you can choose between either the cute flower girl, or the hot brawler babe. Who do you choose?
Nora: What?! Kind of choice is that, flower girl, or brawler babe? How can you rationalize a choice like…?!
Jaune: Ruby is the cute flower girl, Yang is the hot brawler babe. Who would you rather?
Nora: …
Nora: Yang…
Jaune: Because of her boobs?
Nora: Because of her big boobs…
Jaune: Ha! Told you.
///
I do know the bare bones about the games. Never played them, and I don’t care for RPG’s. There’s no replay value to me.
150 notes · View notes
stra-tek · 2 years
Text
Random spoilerific reasons to read Star Trek novels, with little to no context:
Ro/Quark is a thing
A Jem'Hadar joins DS9, tries to fit in but eventually snaps and tries to kill everybody
You learn the origins and final fate of the Borg
A thinly-veiled Dr. House clone joins the Voyager crew
Geordi briefly has 2 girlfriends at once (due to different writers not co-ordinating enough, but still)
There's a TOS book that's a musical
There are YA stories about Jake and Nog making mischief on DS9
YA stories about Worf, Geordi, Picard, Beverly, Kirk, Spock and McCoy at SFA
YA series about the Kelvinverse gang (including Gaila!) as cadets, taking on a drug problem at SFA and a very unique Borg scout in San Francisco
We very briefly meet the people who are to Q what the Q are to humanity
Janeway/Chakotay is a thing
Kirk's first mission in command of the Enterprise! Erm, at least twice.
Kirk was married between TOS and TMP
Her name was Lori
In the future, you have yearly marriage contracts that you either update or you don't and I think that's amazing
Trip didn't die! He faked his death to join Section 31 and go undercover as a Romulan
It's not great, tbh
The ENT books get better after the Romulan wars though, it's proper founding of the Federation stuff
We meet Jack Crusher (erm, the OG) when 4 timelines start overlapping and he's a bit unhinged
Teenage Kirk stole a car and his choice was go to jail or join Starfleet
What happened when Voyager got home? Seven broke up with Chakotay like 30 pages in
Kirk gets cloned, and his clone becomes the sub of an evil invincible super genius and its all very gay
George Kirk was Robert April's first officer on the first ever mission of the unnamed starship with the Naval Construction Contract 1701
Robert is a hard-core pacifist and has to turn command over to George whenever it's time to fire weapons
Data becomes fully human for a couple of days and it's really sweet
They never say "wristwatch" or "phone", it's always "wrist chrono" or "personal comm"
There are gays but they don't say that word because it's the 1990's and Rick Berman runs the franchise
Spock has a son in the past with Zarabeth
Everyone in the post-Nemesis era does spy missions all the time non stop, as if Starfleet has abandoned exploring the cosmos for doing Space Mission: Impossible
Bashir does it better than anyone else, he takes on Section 31 from the inside
Remember Control? It's from the novels, except the novels do it SO MUCH BETTER.
Remember how we never found out who Future Guy was? We do.
It's very underwhelming, nobody we know
We find out how the Romulans and Vulcans split
Surak was a Vulcan internet blogger
A Borg Cube eats Pluto
Janeway dies
Janeway gets better
At least one TOS book features a wizard
There's a Star Trek TOS/Here Come the Brides crossover novel
It had cameos from The Doctor (as in, Who), Han Solo, Starbuck and others
Whole book series about Section 31
Whole book series about the Department of Temporal Investigations
One time they do the Bill and Ted thing to escape confinement and it works
Wanna know how Riker and Troi met?
Wanna know what Picard got up to on the Stargazer?
Andorians have 4 sexes and it's very complicated
Data comes back from the dead as Data 2.0, and it was fresh and exciting because it happened long before ST: Picard did it twice.
Lal comes back too and we get father/daughter android stuff! They have a home and everything but keep having to save the universe
One time Mirror Seven is led around on a leash naked on Terok Nor
Geordi becomes captain of the USS Challenger, decides it's not for him because plot, and goes back to engineering on the Enterprise
Kirk is shot on the bridge and dies
Kirk gets better
They watch 3D holos of old Doctor Who episodes in the Enterprise rec room
The Enterprise also has an AI named Moira, which was Zora long before Zora
The TOS crew get together for one last mission. About three times.
There's a Perry Mason book except it's about Kirk's lawyer from that TOS episode
Data 2.0 owns and runs a massive gambling empire on Orion
Spock keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era
Scotty keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era
Bones keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era
You're on Tumblr so you already know about Killing Time
There's a guy named McKenzie Calhoun and he's a total badass and captains a ship of weirdos and misfits
Kirk comes back from the dead, saves the galaxy repeatedly, has an intersex child (who identifies as male) with a Romulan/Klingon hybrid
Kirk beats up Worf
Kirk's child has superpowers
Kirk's child saves the galaxy at age 6
The Kirk stuff is 100% ignored in the other novels
About 50% of the novels are ignored in the other 50%, and the ones that are meant to be in direct continuity with each other aren't always quite
Just like the TV shows and movies, then
Lwaxana Troi meets Q, and it goes as well as you'd expect
Someone tells Data, yes you idiot you had emotions all along and he's like, oh shit you're right
McCoy is left in command of the Enterprise as a joke by Kirk, who is then immediately kidnapped
Ro Laren is captain of Deep Space Nine
Picard/Beverly is a thing, they get married and have a child named Rene. No running away and raising your kid in secret here
Riker and Troi are married, serve on the Titan together with a bunch of adorable weirdos and have a daughter named Tasha
You get to watch all the 24th century characters die horribly in the end along with their entire universe. Holy fuck it's a bleak horror show. Personally, I love it. But if that's not your cup of tea I'd skip the Coda trilogy
1K notes · View notes
nthspecialll · 2 months
Text
Rockstar I am BEGGING you
PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE I need a cannon timeline over who did what when and where because I AM FUCKING CONFUSED SOMETIMES.
Firstly, Arthur Morgan's love life, did when Arthur talks about Eliza saying she was "just a kid" at nineteen, meaning he was most likely around that age too because he didn't think of her as a kid then. So he is 19 when he meets Eliza and from the dialogue you can have with Jack where Arthur compares jack and Isaac, we can assume Isaac was about 4 years old when he died.
So, does that mean they met in 1882? And then five years later they die, meaning 1887 and Arthur is 24? Cool, I can follow that far, BUT WHERE DOES MARY COME IN?? Listen he sounded like he fucking loved at least Isaac and I think man has a mourning period, I mean yes it was a one night stand but look at how respectful he is towards Mary, he wouldn't get over Eliza and Isaac in one night.
Now okay, let's give him a year or two to mourn and also to ya know, meet Mary and fall in love with her. So he is 26 now, cool, however-
Tumblr media
BRO YOU DON'T LOOK 26! YOU LOOK YOUNG!
Okay, so let's turn it around, maybe he met Mary first, cool! It matches with the fact that he looks young in the picture, it matches with the fact that they didn't see one another for a long ass time, it matches with a lot! Oh maybe this is- NOPE! THIS IS NOT IT! Why? Well literally all of the girls (except Sadie) have an opinion on her!
Let's take Abigail who is 22 in rdr2 and joined the gang at around 1994, that means Arthur brought Mary to camp at least within the last five years?? But they hadn't talked since Mary got married?? Did Arthur just have a one night stand with Eliza while also being with Mary or something?? Is that it??
Also this picture??
Tumblr media
I mean if this is the whole gang at that time does it mean Abigail was the first of the girls to join and Tilly did in fact not join when 12??
BRO I NEED TO KNOW THIS SHIT!! ROCKSTAR GIVE ME A CANNON TIMELINE AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRSSSS
147 notes · View notes
neetily · 2 months
Text
Alone Time — (SDV) Sebastian
Tumblr media
— ✧ warnings: exhibitionism, established relationship, doggy style, masturbation, creampie, cum eating, gamers — ✧ word count: 5,597
— ✧ A/N: reposting some favs from my old account! formatting might be off, but it's still readable.
Tumblr media
Rather than voice his concerns over the fact that your constant wiggling—which he  knows  is intentional—is distracting him enough from his game to cause him to miss easy shots, he’d rather offer you the same niceties in return. After all, it’s the least he could do when you’re so insistent on making him feel good, right?
The warmth from your body against his is all too nice. Your back pressed snug against his chest, legs crossed in his lap, whole body encased within his arms as he leans slightly forward to try and play just a little better for his team; of which are already complaining at him. Vitriolic messages pop up on his screen, and he rolls his eyes in return. It’s not like he’s the only one playing, right? And then Sam…
“ C’mon bro — What’s with ya today?” Sam whines through the headset, the high pitched tone he adopts probably loud enough for you to hear too, Sebastian taking a deep breath in response.
He’s about to reply, but then you shuffle some more.  Getting comfortable  you quietly whisper so that only he can hear, but he knows you better than that. Been dating you for long enough to pick up on your little tells, and he certainly knows that you aren’t just  getting comfortable . A smile automatically makes its way to his lips, a means to deal with frustration you offer him. Then, quickly, a tut. Because he’s died again thanks to your  comfort , and the bouts of anguish his friend expresses in his ears prompts him to tug you closer to his body. His head rests on your shoulder while his keyboard arm wraps loosely around your tummy, a soft calming hum pressed against your ear. You’re soothing to him, even when you’re being bratty.
“Maybe try pulling your own weight then.” He teases Sam, and his smile widens with you as you giggle at his harsh words.
Still, this is your fault; he hasn’t forgot. The deaths in game and his sloppy aim, it’s  your fault  his team is losing right now. Sure there’s an argument to be made that his team shouldn’t require him to be making all the best plays, and should in turn pick up on his slack; but he knows that at least Sam is trying his best. He’d intended on doing the same tonight too when he asked you for an hour or so to himself, but your idea of ‘ alone time ’ seems vastly different from his own. Not that he has any room to complain when he also tries to  get comfortable , wiggling his weight around under you to match your movements.  Feels nice , he thinks to himself. Real comfort.
While he’s still dead in game, the arm that’s around your waist drops just a little further to play with the fabric of your shirt, slowly continuing down until his palm makes contact with your thigh to give it a squeeze. It’s an almost automatic action, borne out of the love he holds for you, but he can’t deny that the little squeak you let out in response isn’t cute, and that it doesn’t give him a good idea. If he has to suffer, then he’ll make you endure some suffering too.
Quickly, he hits the mute keybind for his headset before the death timer ends and shifts one ear off so that he can better hear your response. “Let’s play a game.” He whispers to you, and his cock twitches against your ass the moment you tremble against him.
“Yeah? What kind?” You ask so innocently that his cock twitches again, clearly showcasing the effect even just your voice has on him.
“Don’t get caught.”
And just like that, he’s unmuted again. Game character brought back to life to once again return to battle. Though this time with a different purpose, no matter how much it’ll upset Sam. A one man mission, if you will, focused solely on getting his hands back on you rather than on his mouse and keyboard.
… It doesn’t take him long to die again, another back and forth of  “How did you miss that?”  from Sam and a curt  “Sorry bro.”  from Sebastian before his hands find home again, both of them this time prompting you to stand up momentarily.
No words are said as he unbuttons his tight jeans, lifting his hips up just enough to tug them down over his knees as his eyes beg for you to do the same. Staring at your cunt until your clothing is removed too, and even then his vision only flashes up to your own for a second before he’s eyeing up that pretty little wet spot between your legs. He’s adorning much the same as precum dribbles down his length, staining his boxers see through because you’re just too tempting. The result of having you sit on his lap, wiggling your ass against his cock, for all of, what? Ten minutes? A short enough time for him to probably be embarrassed about, but he can hardly think about anything else other than getting his dick wet with the sight of your cunt so close to his face.
He leans forward for a greedy inhale despite your shy attempts to push him away, it only turns him on more with your scent overwhelming his senses. Sam’s voice is distant in the background, an exhausted sigh as he assumedly dies in game alongside Sebastian. But it’s difficult to properly hear whatever annoyed string of words is echoed into his ear as he guides your hand down to his cock, a soft huff of air escaping him when you’re forced to make contact with how hard he is.  See what you do to me, look at how hard I am already.
What’s worse is the gasp you sound following, causing his eyes to roll back and lag behind in his game, much to Sam’s  very  apparent dissatisfaction.
“Helloooo, Earth to Seb?”
“Yeah yeah, I’ll be there in a sec.”
True to his word for once, he manoeuvres his arms around you while you still stand, peeking his head around your hips just so that he can die in game again. He’ll have to apologise to Sam later, blaming your  distractions  as the cause behind his lacklustre performance. And to be fair, he wouldn’t even be lying about it. Feeling you move around in an effort to remove your panties diverts his attention instantly, effectively leaving his character a sitting duck. It’s no surprise that he’s dead again.
What follows is a mad dash to undress as discreetly as possible, limbs entangled and hushed giggles shared together until his cock is free and your cunt rests before him. He’s quick to urge you into turning around after a squeeze of your tits, standing to bend over you slightly as you stick your ass out for him and wiggle playfully. It almost draws a curse out of him, but he’s too mindful of the third unknown party in his headset to fully share his appreciation for your lewd display. He figures sliding his cock between your folds is thanks enough, a satisfied groan caught in his throat else he blows his already flimsy cover.
“Are you ready to  finally  start playing?” He hears Sam huff, and Sebastian laughs only to hide a moan at how wet you are already.
“As I’ll ever be.”
It’s not lost on him the double meaning behind his words, the warm wet coating his cock as he readies himself for gaming again, still standing as he hunches over you  a little more  to  accidentally  rub his tip against your swollen clit. He has to remind you to hush when you gasp in return, no matter how much he’d love to hear just how much he affects you.
The clicking of his keyboard soon fills the room again, his tummy tense with the position he has to hold in order to keep his cock tight between your legs, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Part of him would even argue that he’s able to focus a little better now; despite how often his cock jerks against you for attention. Being so close to you as you accept his cock between your legs is comforting, feels like home. Sam at least seems more impressed by his performance even if only because he isn’t complaining as much any more, leaving Sebastian’s ears open to hearing all of your little pants and groans. Every minuscule movement he makes to type away at his keyboard, or to move his mouse around the screen, his cock rubs against your cunt and leaves him struggling for air. Holding his breath in an effort to remain hidden from Sam, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your ass push nicely against his pelvis in an asking for more. And he wants to give you what you’re asking for eventually, but it’s a bit too much fun teasing you like this; you deserve some teasing after leaving him hanging since the game started.
Sliding his cock with ease, he starts small little humps. Too slow to even be considered as such, really. A gentle rock back and forth as he does his best to focus on not dying again in fear of becoming suspicious, but enough to offer you some relief. Really leaning over you to angle his cock just  perfectly  between your legs, biting down on his bottom lip to keep his appreciation quiet, but letting his hand wander to your hips during downtime in order to give you small little squeezes. A small reminder that he loves you, and that the slick gush of your cunt coating his cock wet is certainly appreciated. Well, if the fat drops of precum that thud on the floor beneath him weren’t evidence enough, anyway.
He knows you’re enjoying it too when he feels you shudder against him, the barely there push of your hips back as he easily rocks forward, forcing his eyes to slowly shut as a contented sigh escapes him.
“You good?” Sam asks down his mic, but Sebastian knows it’s not a genuine attempt to check in; especially considering the abrupt  fuck!  that follows as his friend dies yet again in game. It’s a pleasantry, and he’s thankful for once to not have Sam’s full attention.
“Mhm.” He answers, much too sultry to be considered  normal  by any stretch of the imagination, but it hardly seems to matter as Sam dives into another rant over how unfair the game is.
Given that Sam is distracted at the moment, Sebastian offers you a chaste kiss. Pressed right into the crook of your neck as his hips speed up just a little. Humping his cock against your wet slit with more purpose, a faint squelch soon filling the air to match his movements. He’s happy to have turned the gain up on his mic, knowing that the sound of your cunt is all his in this moment.
It’s a bit ironic, really. Deep down he’s a selfish man, knows you know it to be true too when you wiggle against him for more and he merely ignores you; favouring pretending to play and lazily stroking himself against you. But there’s a certain rush that comes with knowing he’s  basically  sharing you right now. To have Sam on the other end of the internet unaware of your slut behaviour, partaking in the act with you under Sebastian’s control. A lump forms in his throat, a coil in his tummy, and he distracts himself by cupping your tits.
And it doesn’t help that your cute sounds keep increasing in both volume and frequency as his fucks try to match your need, making it more difficult for his mind—and his cock—to remain focused on the task at hand. Which was it again? Gaming, or fucking? Your pretty voice clouding his judgement; it’s a good thing he can’t see your face from this position too. If he did, he’s sure he’d give up on hiding immediately, sit you on his desk and fuck you live in voice chat.
“Fuck—” He accidentally lets slip, doing his best to hide the gratification in his voice behind a cough, but it’s useless. The tip of his cock keeps catching against your hole with how slippery you are by now, and his chest  hurts  with how much he wants to push it in. A small huff quickly following as he hears your taunting giggle in return. As punishment, he watches you struggle to hide your own excitement with a pinch of your nipple, rolling it between his fingers before lightly circling it. With bated breath, he awaits the confrontation.
There’s a pause before Sam answers him with a stupid: “What’s up?”
And then there’s an even bigger pause before Sebastian replies with: “Nah, nothing man.” Because he’s too busy letting go of his keyboard and mouse so that he can take hold of your waist, pinning you down and holding you in place for him to snap his hips against you in quick thrusts for a second or two. Long enough to leave you panting, and for him to reconsider his position on sharing you. Carrying himself with a real  fuck it  attitude as he tells himself  just the tip.  Just a little of his tip inside of you should be fine, right? It’s clear that you want it, and his cock is just begging for it too with how much he leaks all over your slit, dripping precum down to your thighs as he messily humps away against you.
It’s not long before he dies again, not that he truly notices. Too busy debating with himself on whether he should slip inside or tease you some more; but you remove the choice for him by angling yourself just right to ease his tip inside. Silence falls over the room, a breathy moan caught in his throat at the sudden warm tightness around him, while his head is thrown back briefly to really lean into the good feeling. It’s dumb how good it feels to have even just his tip inside, one hand dropping to fist away at his rock hard cock while his tip rests in your hole. Masturbating while inside of you, as if that would offer him any relief.
“…Seb—”
“Seb—”
“Sebastian!”
The full name call from Sam grabs his attention, and a stuttered “Y-yeah?” finally claws up his chest, followed by a tight jaw and harsh gulp. He’s doing his best to remain attentive to his friend whilst also gently rolling his hips into you, inch by inch—which is easy considering how wet he is—almost as if on  instinct . Like he was  meant  to be buried balls deep inside of you, gripping onto your hips so desperately that his nails dig in.
If he’s already been caught, then he might as well continue. It’s too bad that Sam isn’t the brightest.
“What are you  doing  bro? You’ve been in base for like… Five minutes at least!”
He almost feels bad for how genuinely upset Sam sounds, but the squeeze of your cunt as you assumedly hear Sam’s whining over the headset convinces him otherwise. A curt  sorry  is all he can muster in response, voice shaky and tone insincere as he begrudgingly lets go of your waist to return to the game. It’s hot, actually. Immediately. The soft little whines you let out as his attention goes elsewhere, paired with the faux attempt at ignoring you only turns him on more, cock twitching as he warms it fully inside of you. He’s got no idea what’s even happening in game, vision hazy with the constant squeezing shut and rolling with every little move you make. That, and it’s difficult to focus on Sam’s advice when you start to move on your own accord.
The feeling of your tight cunt moving back and forth against him is almost too much to bear after such a long teasing session, even if he is partly to blame. Such a tight little cunt, fucking his needy cock  so well . He wants to praise you for taking control, for making him feel so good, but he’s preoccupied and can’t let his friend  or  team down, right? Plus, it’s at least a little fun doing something so intimate so publicly, in the safety of his own house; his own  desk , while his team is none the wiser. And he thinks you think so too with the way your hands gravitate to his arms, holding onto his wrists to make it impossible for him to play very well.
You’re making the game too challenging for him. Both on his screen and his self proposed one, his greedy cock convincing him to match your movements once again with small fucks forward. Nothing too obscene, nothing that could get picked up on his mic, but enough to leave his breathing laboured and his actions on screen faltered.
“Seriously Seb, what’s up with you tonight—”
“ God , keep going—”
Fuck it . You feel too good! Unfairly wet and warm, sucking his cock off so well that he simply doesn’t care for hiding any more. If anything, he wants to show you off now.  Look at how good she makes me feel, do you hear how wet her cute little cunt is?  Hands off the keyboard and back on your body, he starts to pick up the pace and fucks into you faster. More precisely, now that he’s only focused on you and your perfect body.
A moan falls from his lips and it seems to kick-start your own too, knowing that he’s got no intention to keep you a secret any longer. Turned dumb with every buck of his hips forward and rendered stupid with every tug back, the tight suck of your cunt prompting him into spilling moan after moan down his headset for Sam to hear. There’s only you and him in his room in the moment, and the thought of Sam even existing as you squirm on his fat cock, pumping into you fast enough to have his desk squeaking against the floor, doesn’t even register. Really, no point is left in hiding his degeneracy, letting himself fall down onto your back to sandwich you between the desk and his chest in an effort to have you making even more noise now. A selfish want to hear just how much you love him. “ So good , yeah?” He taunts you from above, voice barely above a whisper as he focuses solely on driving his hips forward and burying himself as deep as possible into your hole. Over and over again, humping you against the desk like he isn’t currently in the middle of a game, balls  papping!  Against your sticky thighs like Sam  isn’t  on the other end of the net gasping alongside him, an almost inaudible  holy shit, Seb … ringing in his ears and forcing him to confront reality.
But you take him right back out of it, a short cry of his name in-between sobbed whines is all it takes for his grip on you to tighten, muscles tensed and veins popping with the amount of effort it takes for him to not cum on the spot. A reminder that despite the audience, you belong to  him . That it’s  his  cock splitting you in two, bending his knees a little to get a better fucking angle while his arms wrap around your waist, truly keeping you pinned under him as his hips buck into you like a dog in heat. It’s too much, knowing that Sam is listening to him fuck you; almost too hot for him to handle. Cock twitching and head empty as he repeatedly fucks you  up  the desk, knocking a few figures and items off in the process.
And he smiles when he hears Sam whine too, coerced by the suck of your cunt to indulge in the praise he’s wanted to all night.
“Taking cock so well,  fuck— ” he half laughs, both in adoration of you enduring his fucking, and because he can hear Sam fisting himself in the background too. “Tight little hole.”
Having both his partner and his best friend receptive to his cock at the same time is not something he’s ever thought about before, but he can’t stop obsessing over the sounds filling his ears now that it’s happening. Shocked sighs and needy whimpers, the wet slap of his skin against your own, grunting into the feeling of your cunt tightening around his cock when he hits the right spot, momentarily struggling to push any further in as he chokes on a moan. He’s about to praise you again, intentionally trying to make Sam as embarrassed—or turned on, he can’t quite decide through his foggy mind which is more likely—as possible, but someone beats him to it.
In a tone that Sebastian has never heard before, but one that instant goes straight to his cock and draws more precum out to stain your insides with, Sam meekly speaks up. “Um… Could— I mean, if it’s alright, can you uh… Y’know, describe it?”
He can almost hear the blush in Sam’s voice, muffled behind a hand to keep himself as quiet as possible so as to not alert his family, a soft shuffle of clothing matching the squelch of a fist tight around a cock.  God , he can imagine the scene so perfectly, and it  ruins  him. Almost as much as your cunt has already wrecked him, staring down at where his tip meets your hole, watching with heart eyes as his cock completely disappears into you over and over again. Hypnotised by the ring of cream at the base of his cock, the light sheen on your ass and thighs from God knows what fluids. He almost forgets to reply to Sam.
“What do you mean?” Seb asks, though it’s redundant. He knows what Sam is asking for, but it’s too much fun teasing him. Teasing  you , his thumb coming down to rub messy circles against your clit while the other raises to your tits, prompting you to push up off the desk a little to instead rest your chest against his greedy paw. “How tight she is? Cause  fuck , man—” he trails off into a breathless laugh, caught off guard at just how much you seem to be enjoying being spoken about. Like you’re just an object, a means to get off in the moment.  A hole.   Fuck that’s hot , his tummy flipping in response to your eager shoves back against his cock, attempting to meet him half way but he’s too quick for you. Too needy and greedy to give you time to catch up, impatiently showing you off without taking you into consideration besides making you feel good; and he knows he’s doing just that. Hopes your hiccuped moans are caught by his microphone for your audience to fawn at.
“Or how wet she gets knowing that you’re listening?” he continues, flicking at your clit with each fuck of his cock, standing up fully now to throw his head back at all the little huffs Sam lets out, how you cutely start to try and deny how degenerate you are, but his cock quickly shuts you up with short snap thrusts. “ Fuck , baby— so pretty…” he kindly offers you between pants and groans, mindful to still pay attention to you as he bullies Sam.
“Really?” Sam quickly questions, the disbelief in his voice causing Sebastian’s hips to stutter into you, eyes rolling to the back of his skull as a rough hiss crawls up his throat. “Ah… She sounds so pretty, Seb...”
And you do. Sound  so good  when stuffed full of cock, the strain in your voice as you struggle to remain standing strokes his ego almost as well as your cunt does his cock, your legs wobbling under the weight of his selfish fucks and prompting him to keep you steady with a hand on your waist again. But Sam’s words give him an idea, and he slows his pace only for a moment. Cooing sweetly down at you as you cry out at the loss of stimulation, the desperation in your sounds urging him to keep going; but he holds off.  It’ll be worth it , he thinks as he speaks a terse “ Here .” And tugs his headset off, forcing it onto your head before letting his hips continue.
The surprise in your squeaks as he gives you no warning almost has him cumming on the spot again, knowing that Sam now has direct access to your dirty sounds causes his cock to leak some more, offering an even louder squelch as he bullies his tip inside of you again and again, a palm laying flat against your sweaty back to rub soothingly at. Or at least he tries to, but his movements are rather shaky due to how tense he is, muscles taut as he puts all the effort he has into getting you off, into making you moan even louder now that you have the headset, his free hand playing with your clit again, toying with the amount of slick that gushes out of you with every shove of his cock inside your tight little hole. “Tell Sam how it feels, baby—” he encourages you, words carried with a cocky attitude because  he knows how good you feel.  It’s a bit difficult to ignore it anyway with how loud you’re being.
Your instantaneous babbling is so cute, his heart hammering against his chest in time with how hard his cock twitches at the almost sentences you make and the cut off word he fucks you into. It’s cute how hard you’re trying to stay upright, to communicate effectively just as he’s asked you to do, but what’s even cuter is how the only coherent word that manages to spill from your pretty lips is  close . He can feel it, too. The tightening of your hole around his fat cock, the way your body shakes and trembles as you teeter on the edge. All he really has to do is thumb at your clit a few times and you’re cumming around him, gushing wet from your cunt that he humps faster into; couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. The sound of his name in your broken voice is too hot to stop, surely you can understand.
“Yeah,  fuck— yeah .” He huffs against you, leaning back over you to fully fuck his cock inside of you and then  fucking you some more . Buried all the way to the hilt, little minuscule humps into you to ensure that his load reaches as deep as possible; because he’s close too. You can hardly blame him after your indecent display, even just hearing your ragged breaths as you attempt to calm down from your high as his cock disallows you a moments reprieve is enough for him, knowing that you’re fucked breathless on his cock. “Is inside okay?” He quickly thinks to asks you, and an uncharacteristically high pitched moan escapes him when you quickly nod and beg  please;  followed by a string of even needier sounding curses. Like he can’t quite believe just how lucky he is in that moment.
For a second he wonders how Sam is fairing. He knows just how turned on  he  is from hearing you get fucked silly himself, but he hears it on a regular basis. Surely Sam must be struggling too, hearing it for the first time, right? Maybe they’ll cum at the same time, hearing you beg for him to cum inside must set Sam off too. Maybe Sam is imagining it’s  him  fucking you instead of Sebastian, hearing the way he’s rocking you back on his cock more so than he is fucking into you, making you grind your ass against him as he humps his cock further inside. And then he leans down more, presses his face against your neck so that he can moan down the mic with you as he reaches the tipping point.
“Sam’s close. ” You whisper, and it’s his breaking point.
Shooting his load inside of you, a silent wail gets caught in his throat until he allows himself to pull out  just a little , promptly fucking his cum back inside to let his cock fully unload inside of you.  Then  the moans spill, mixed with gasped swears and whines of overstimulation. Sloppy fucks, uncoordinated as he fills you up with cum, squeezing his eyes shut because it feels  too good  to openly allow someone else to hear how good you make him feel, secretly wishing he could hear Sam’s response too. “Holy  shit , fuck—,” he curses to himself, milking his cock in your tiny hole even when he’s done. Empty. Still, he wants to feel the warmth of your cum filled cunt. “ Oh my God—”  he whispers to himself, hips idly pushing into you once he’s completely drained. Still, he wants to feel close to you.
But he’s quick on the after care, despite his fucked out lungs, he still has the breath to praise you. Taking to gently kissing your neck and cheek once he’s done, cock still warming inside your cunt. “Did so good,” He promises you, remembering to let go of his bruising grip of your hips in favour of a soft squeeze hug around your tummy. “So proud of you.” He continues, delicately lifting the headset off your head to give you a break after such strenuous activity, and putting it back on himself. Still, it’s as if it’s not there. Placed on purely out of habit, regardless of the fact that he trails kisses down your back, his cock slipping out in the process to leave cum dripping down to the floor. What a pretty sight. “Good job baby.”
As he makes his way down your back and comes to your ass, he automatically kneels on the floor and spreads your cheeks open, gasping at the sight that greets him. Your winced hiss at the feeling of his fingers so close to your used cunt tugs on his heart, but his cock still twitches at just how pretty you are when covered in his cum. Mindful of his mic, he angles it away from him before diving in, letting his tongue lay flat against your slit to kitten lick at. Aiming to soothe you, and maybe to selfishly clean you a little.
“Fuck me…” Sam laughs down the headset, and it puts a smile on Sebastian’s face. He hopes you can feel it, wondering what Sam must be saying about you. “Uh… Yeah. Thanks, Seb.”
“No problem.” He speaks against your cunt, rolling his tongue around your clit so  slowly , knowing that all he must be doing is riling you up again, but he wouldn’t mind a second round. He doubts Sam would either. Maybe this time he could turn his cam on, the thought alone causing his cock to jerk; of which he pets at it lightly.
There’s a few seconds of silence that follows, not that he minds. He’s quite content to eat his cum out your cunt for the time being, but he can feel the tension from Sam even through the headset. “We should do this again.” Sebastian speaks up, hoping to break the awkward air and also to show a genuine interest in sharing you again. The way you end up on your tip toes while he tongue fucks his cum back out of you tells him that you like the idea too.
“Wait,  really?  God I— I’d like that, yeah.  Fuck , even if this was a one time thing I—”
“You don’t understand. She  loved it .”
In response, Sam lets out a shaky breath. He’ll talk to Sam about it later, maybe visit him tomorrow with you. But for now, he has to clean you up.
“Be right back.” He says, throwing his headset away in order to pick you up; intent on taking you to the bathroom, however the feeling of you nuzzling into him stalls him for a moment, and then you speak up.
“So what do I win?”
Your question catches his attention, and he’s sure his confusion is written all over his face from the way you slyly smile back. He doesn’t miss the way your voice cracks, and how you have to cough to get it out properly due to the intense session. It’s  cute , and he wants to hug you all better immediately. “What do you mean? Haven’t you had enough?” he jokes with you, cheeks warm at the way you giggle in response.
“Never.” You quickly shut him up, and he supposes he’s not much better… Already thinking about a round two. “But I mean about the game.  Don’t get caught , right?”
Oh, right. Yeah. The game that he completely forgot about the moment he entered your tight cunt.
“Technically,  you  lost. So I’d like my prize now.”
Thinking of one on the spot is harder than you’d imagine, especially considering his cock is already hardening again when remembering what started this whole night, and the fact that he’s just came harder than ever, so he settles on a kiss. A soft starting one, full of tender love and affection, but one the quickly grow more needy,  impatient , tongue down your throat as he finds himself needing to paw at his tip again.
He really should turn his cam on.
116 notes · View notes
itneverendshere · 1 year
Note
I've had thots about Toppers girlfriend with Rafe and his wandering hands and yall are so turned on you both can't stop touching one another you're practically dry humping in front of everyone (ya know the whole hiding in plain sight)
i did something bad - r.c (18+)
warnings: rafe cameron x kook!reader; cheating; boyfriend!topper (not really lmao poor thing); public sex?; dry humping; mentions of alcohol and drugs; possessive!rafe; almost having sex in the middle of a party I guess;
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You don’t even know how the hell this happened.
How you ended up right here, right now, with him. You don’t know where to put your hands, your eyes, or your thoughts. You’re lost. Completely speechless.
Yet somehow, there's nowhere you’d rather be than sitting here, pressed against Rafe Cameron's thighs. And yeah, you're dating his best friend. And yeah, as if you’re not in the middle of a roaring party, filled to the brim, at Topper’s house.
He brushes his thumb over your hip, cautious, like he’s testing the waters. “You good?”
All you can manage is a weak, “Yeah.”
“Look at me.”
Oh god.
Of course, Rafe would catch every little thing you do. Probably been watching you the whole night. Your heart stutters when your eyes lock with his.
That hand on your hip grows bolder, fingers tracing your skin in slow, teasing circles. If you died right now, you’d die happy. And maybe, just maybe, your biggest turn-on is feeling understood. Feeling seen. Rafe does that for you. Topper? Not so much.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention all night,” he murmurs.
You exhale, trying to sound casual. “Really?”
This thing between you two — it’s like a storm you can't escape from. No matter how hard you try. But in moments like this, you can’t run. It pulls you in.
“’Been trying to get your attention all night, you know that?”
You are just about able to breathe out a quiet, “Really?
This attraction between you two is everything you’ve ever needed and wanted, and yet in moments like these, you panic all the same.
You know it’s safer to run from him than to run to him like you always seem to do, but the truth is, you can’t stop. Your steady composure evaporates around him.
Rafe nods, utter confidence in the gesture. Not that you’d expect any less from the kook king himself, he always knew what he thought and felt, and wasn’t afraid to let people know. He owns every single bit of himself.
Unlike you.
“Why are you surprised, flower?” he murmurs, “You know I only got eyes for you.”
You stare back at him, mouth dry and head empty. You want to call him out on his bullshit, put the truth on a silver platter, and hand it to him, but you’d be a hypocrite. How can you tell him you hate seeing him with other people when you’ve got a boyfriend yourself? His best friend. You’ve got no moral high ground here.
So you just nod. Close your eyes, block out the world, and pretend this is fine. Pretend you’re anywhere else but here.
“Is that so?”
He's now grasping both your hips, “Don’t look at me like that. You know I mean it.”
A thrill shoots through you. His touch is scorching your skin, “Not doing anything.”
But fuck, this feels like everything. Cheating on a relationship is a distraction, a self-delusional addiction. This will end in a breakup or breakdown... or worse. You haven’t crossed that line, not physically at least. Not yet. But you feel like you are about to.
“Trust me, you’re doing just enough.”
The way he says it, like it's the easiest thing in the world to want you this bad, makes your pulse quicken. You’re crazy. His lips are so pretty, just the thought of them has you dizzy. Of course, your blush is a dead giveaway.
“Where’s your date?”
“Don’t know,” one hand moves down, “Don’t care.”
“You should.”
His lips twitch, fingers skirting down, “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
His eyebrows rise, eyes flickering over the room curiously.
“Where’s your boyfriend, flower?” He all but purrs in your ear. Your face is most definitely on fire. 
He stares at you, and you simply stare back. The tension that clouds the air is almost too much. 
“Outside.”
“Now, what would he think if he walked in here and saw you in my lap?” Rafe’s voice is raspy, “Hmm?”
Every bit of confidence you had is nowhere to be found. He always knows how to play your strings. It’s twisted, but the thought only makes you want Rafe more.
“You think about that?” You ask breathlessly, and the hard outline of his cock through his jeans is confirmation enough. You should shove him away. You should feel guilty. But instead, you press yourself against him, his thigh between yours, your brain already melting at the feeling.
“You are really trying to make me fuck you right here, aren’t you?” His voice is lethal, he all but groans, leaning down and sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, just above your pulse, “I’m trying to be good, flower.”
“You’re not good, Rafe Cameron.”
The solid press of his body on yours is all too much. His lips on your neck are everything you’ve fantasized about and more.
“I could be,” Those blue eyes fill with mischief, “For you, I would.”
Your stomach drops and you shove him off, ignoring your flushed cheeks. But then he grins, that shit-eating, sarcastic grin of his, and your glare pierces through him, attempting to keep some space between you.
“Don’t be an asshole.”
“You think I can’t be good?”
“I don’t think,” Your reply is mockingly sweet, and for once he doesn’t smirk, in fact, his grin is half-hearted now, “I know for a fact, you can’t.”
“Right,” His hand works its way from your cleavage, down to your stomach where he lingers for some time, “Good thing you’re dating a good guy, yeah?”
The urge to touch, to be inside you is overwhelming. He’s never felt so desperate to feel someone. The laugh that escapes you is almost bitter, and he knows it. He knows he’s got you. And the worst part? You’re letting him.
“Yeah, good thing,” You breathe, body pressing into his.  Your heart thumps wildly between your ribs and you know you’re going straight to hell.
“Do you want me?” he whispers, arm snaking around your waist to bring you even closer. Again.
“Please.”
In one swift movement, he pulls you down to the couch he’s sitting on. He supports your body with one hand under your upper thigh, whilst his free hand cups the back of your head, fingers interlacing with your hair. The way you situate yourself on his thigh so quickly is too natural, and he does give a little condescending laugh.
There are people everywhere. The party rages on. But it’s like the world has shrunk to just you and him.
You stare into each other’s eyes, panting shakily – lips inching closer and closer together. Rafe lingers there, flushed lips parted, waiting patiently for your move. 
“Rafe?” Your voice is quiet, and yet he still hears you despite the music. You’re not sure how much longer you can stand so close without devouring him whole.
His eyes flicker to yours, “Yes?”
“Kiss me.”
Before you know it, his lips crash into yours roughly, almost bruising them. He’s so hungry for you. For your touch. He has wanted this for so, so, so long. And fuck, so have you.
The hard press of his cock pushing right against your center is torturous. As if his stupid muscular thigh wasn’t enough. You ground yourself down on him, breathing a moan against his lips. 
“My flower,” He pants into your mouth, tongue swiping against your bottom lip, “Gonna be good for me?”
“So good.” You rock against him, your teeth grazing his lips. His fingers untangle from your hair, and cup your cheek, pulling you in closer to deepen the kiss. You push yourself further against him, rocking your hips. He groans against your cheek, thrusting up. 
A large hand slides down your neck and grips it gently, earning him a sudden, breathy moan, “Want me that bad?” 
Your legs tighten around his waist, “Yes.”
“'Y'sure, flower?”
“Yes.”
“More than him?”
“Don’t tease,” you whine lengthily, frustration so pent up it leaves you breathless, “You know my answer.”
“Do I?” Rafe hums, fingers rubbing tight circles into your clothed clit.
“Rafe.”
“Keep talking.”
You try hard to focus on the budding feeling in your core, to chase it so you can finally know what a proper orgasm feels like. Can’t remember the last time you had one, delivered by a man. 
“I want you,” You mumble, grazing your teeth on his pulsing throat as you suckle on his skin, leaving behind a bruise-like mark, “Always want you more.”
“Fuck—” he gasps, hips giving an involuntary jerk, “I’m never letting you go back to him, you know that right?”
Your grip around his neck tightens, fingernails digging into his tanned skin, “All yours.”
You’re so, so wet and you haven’t discarded a single piece of clothing. All he wants to do is replace his thigh with his cock but, he can’t. Not here anyway, so he settles for this. He’d settle for anything you give him right now. Lost to the sensation his head falls back, his eyes screw shut, his breath coming out in short pants. 
“C-Can we–Oh!– Can we leave?”
“Easy,” He hums, eyes still squeezed shut, brows gathering, “Not yet.”
“Please,” you beg quietly, squeezing his waist with your legs as your body tries to shove him closer.
Your pussy swells with pleasure, moans becoming deeper and more strained. He knows you’re close. He’s not far behind and there’s something so primal about making you cum in a room full of people, who’ve yet to take a second look at you two. The alcohol and the drugs in their veins become your accomplices. 
He feels the tension in your body, the way it seizes up, trying to fight the unbearable heat pooling in your pelvis. The sound of his husky moans in your ear is about to send you over the edge – heated coil unraveling, stomach muscles relaxing.
He relishes in the way you’re staring into his eyes with your mouth open. It feels so good, so right. The way his body completely envelopes yours.
You can’t believe you’re about to cum from dry-humping Rafe Cameron.
“This what you want?” He mutters.
You nod as best you can with his palm on your throat.
“Couldn’t fuckin’ wait, huh?” His jaw ticks. “That desperate?”
You nod again. Fuck, you’ll tell him whatever he wants if he’ll just touch you.
Focusing on the budding feeling, your hands grip his veiny forearm. His sleeves are shoved up to the elbows, cuffed there and you can feel a muscle twitch in his forearm. 
It turns you on. You let go of any thoughts, allowing your body to take over. You moan into his shoulder, grinding erratically into his hand.
“Good girl,” His voice is thick with desire, shaky from the buck of his hips. He has your face in his hands before you can shrink away. He's gripping your jaw between desperate fingers and tilting to your chin up, “So fucking good, flower.”
When Rafe begins to bounce his leg up and down and you bite your lip to silence your moans.
“If you ever let him touch you again, I’ll break his fuckin’ arms.” 
A whine seems to be the only thing that your brain can come up with.
You can feel the fire pulsating through his lips; you can feel it radiate off his body. 
He leans in to brush his lips against yours—feverish and light. His tongue swirls through your mouth from desperation starting to lock inside his chest. You have made him feel all kinds of things over the years. He needs to feel you, needs to touch you, constantly. After the searing memory of Topper’s hand on your waist, lips dangerously close to yours, he needs to be close to you.
"M'gonna come—baby, please let me,” You cry out and dig your nails into his skin, chest heaving rapidly.
"Go ahead," He gulps, ready to take you home, he presses his forehead against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck, "'M right here."
Your stomach churns as the thin thread that is holding your composure together snaps. The tip of his nose drags over your jaw, a soft kiss pressed there as he nudges your head to fall back onto his shoulder.
And then he has you shaking, hurtling towards an orgasm that leaves your mind spinning. His lips move to your neck, tongue, and teeth stinging and soothing, mumbling praises and filthy promises.
“Oh, my fuckin'—God!”
He doesn't let up, not when your clit begins to throb, or walls pulse.
Not until you're shaking so hard through your orgasm that you are all but crawling up his lap, leaving you unable to breathe.
“C’mere,” he says, softly, although you haven’t moved. He lifts a hand to your face to brush the hair back from your eyes, lingering for a moment before his gaze slides up to yours.
“You’re mine.” 
1K notes · View notes
dairy-farmer · 28 days
Note
Aaw D:> tumbr ate my first draft of this. But I persist!
Because? Consider! Ra's being a GENUINELY charismatic, manipulative Threat! Oh shit!
He can read you at a glance. Offer you your hearts desires. Money, power, vengeance, purpose. Don't you YEARN? Haven't they WRONGED you? The world is... so very UNFAIR, isn't it?
Don't you want to feel safe again?
Be strong?
Poisoned honey, spoken in a pleasing voice. Any mask for any job. Mentorly, seductive, fatherly, concern, whatever breaks your walls. Makes you TRUST him. He's been doing this for years. Centuries.
Bruce calls it a cult for a reason.
Never let him get into your head. Let him talk. Give no quarter or it's DONE. Bruce drilled it in to all of them. If you give even a sliver of the smallest scrap... he will take you for all you are worth and destroy you. Mould what remains however he pleases. Bruce himself, BARELY had the mental and emotional strength to escape.
And he's the most stubborn bastard alive.
But... but Bruce is GONE. Lost to the time stream. And no one believe Tim. Will listen. Yeah, he's not explaining himself that great. But he's upset, his brain has always moved faster then his mouth, it's... it's kinda a terrible combination. But that doesn't mean he's CRAZY!
Of all the shit they've seen! THIS is where you think things become impossible!? THIS is when you won't even check?! Fine. He'll go on his own.
Except he's not on his own.
Because Ra's either believes him... or has spotted his chance to strike.
Murmurs and drawling and croons in his ears. Like the devil whispering temptation as it leads him farther and farther from home. Tim's TRYING. Remembers what Bruce told him. Give him nothing. But... but every snapped reply, every short answer, is met with such... predatory amusement.
He's making a mistake.
He KNOWS he's making a mistake.
But Bruce is out there. He... he has to get him home. He can do this.
Then Tamara Fox is sent after him by her dad. He gets stabbed and loses an organ, nearly dies in the desert. Now there's a hostage and fucking spider assassins hunting Ra's cult of killers.
Ra's, who no longer seems amused.
He can't-... he HAS to do this. For Bruce. For Tam. For the people they've killed.
He manages. They invade. The stuff of nightmares. Honestly, fffffuck Ra's, he can handle himself. He's getting Tam and Pru out of here and blowing everything to kingdom come. Except... except... shit, the leader. Touch of death. He's so tired. Reflexes not what the should be, torso still too stiff from being TORN OPEN.
Weeks of jet lag, poor sleep, worse diet, and just generally spotty meal times, have taken their toll. His reaction time is off. Not by much. But enough to die by. And... and this is it. He IS going too...
THWUMP!
Staff. With the sort of deadly precision even weapon master's would consider unachievable. The sort that take lifetimes to achieve. So close, if he blinked, his eyelashes would sweep the weapon that just saved his life. The force behind that strike would shatter bone. The follow up, clearly meant to kill.
Ra's Al Ghul.
Tim is already jerking back and toward Tam. No time to observe. But... oh. Oh. He must look so... so CLUNKY with a staff in his hands, in Ra's eyes. The man moves like a rolling storm. All dark untouchable mist and deadly flashing light. Dances have been less elegant.
But that doesn't matter. It CAN'T.
He has to get out of here.
Tim leaves Ra's to either win or die. Flees with Tam and Pru. Pulls up his "fuck you, Ra's" program. And tries to get it going...
Shit.
Only half the bases blew.
A blow, yes. But not the "get fucked, now and forever" like he intended. At least the alarms behind him are sounding. So THIS one is gonna go. Rip in burning peices, ya spider fucks! (No one tell Bruce. It's been a long year okay?)
Except when has life EVER been kind or fair to Tim? Even once? ESPECIALLY this year? Ra's. Barely sweaty from his death match and ready for round two, just kicked open the hanger door behind them. Still in full armor. Still fully armed.
Tim doesn't even bother to calculate in his head.
They're fucked.
He slaps the evidence Bruce NEEDS to be rescued into Tam's arms. Tells her to get it to her father. Begs Pru to get her there. Tells them... to run.
Stands his ground.
He gets his ass beat like a drum. It's not even CLOSE. He's wounded, exhausted, and down to one weapon. Less trained then Ra's. And Ra's? Already warmed up, well rested, armed to the teeth and IN ARMOUR. Also probably pretty mad, what with Tim blowing up his bases.
He... he doesn't expect to wake up.
But he does.
Fancy guest room. The sort of guest not allowed to LEAVE, but still. Rich woods, fine fabrics, tasteful design. Ra's in an ornate, silken, open robe and loose low hanging lounge pants, sprawled out like a tiger as he casually sharpens a sword.
Subtle.
Captured then. He would have expected a dungeon after, you know, the whole "fuck you" base exploding. And Ra's? Doesn't even pause in his weapon maintenance as he calmly, in an almost musing voice, informs him that there's no NEED for THAT.
"Bases can be rebuilt. Rabble recollected."
"But you, Detective?"
What a glorious last stand~. Why, Tamara was it? He's quite sure Tamara is TEARFULLY recounting "your valiant final moments, even as we speak. You've done all the work to kill yourself, FOR me, Detective. I would be a fool not to take advantage of that."
He finally pauses, testing the edge of the blade. Pleased with it's sharpness.
Tim let's himself flop back down on the bed, refusing to wait for eye contact with those gemstone green eyes. So... what now? Torture? Brainwashing? Lectures on how awesome you are and how Tim should totally join you?
Of course not. Why would Ra's do THAT, when he has Tim right where he wants him? Tired, hurting, isolated. Mentally and emotionally exhausted. In other words... broken down. The world has done his job FOR him. Not, of course, that he'd ever SAY that. Why show your hand, after all?
So, no, no~
Now? You rest. Ra's brings you food. And if you want something? You'll have to trade for it.
Theeeere it is! Time called it. And WHAT, you creep, EXACTLY will he be expected to "trade"?
So suspicious! But, of course, he understands. Their's has hardly been a pleasant relationship, so far. Riddled with conflict. He simply wishes for conversation. For Tim to take care of himself. Allow RA'S to take care of him. After all, Ra's knows he would never allow him to help, otherwise.
.....right. "help".
Tim knows that's bullshit. He is trapped and this is a trap. Some form of conditioning. A fostering of dependence, maybe. He refuses to fall for it. Ignores Ra's, turns over, and pretends to go back to bed.
Ra's just hums, amused.
Because... sure enough? For all that Ra's oh so helpfully furnished "his" room with books and art supplies? Non-technological amusements? He can only ignore the only other person in the room for some many days. Can only stew in his "what ifs" and not knows for so long.
Damn it.
So he trades. Cagey and suspicious, looking for traps in every bit of wording and every action. Just as Ra's knew he would. Slowly exhausting himself. Just as Ra's knew he would. Hyper-vigilance taking it's brutal, chipping toll.
Just as Ra's knew it would~.
He asks only you eat this lovely snack you will enjoy. Take a nap, as look so tired. Allow him to massage those worn, long abused muscles. Wash the unmanageable curls of your hair. A conversation, perhaps, on that topic you love so much. You are quite knowledgeable.
And... and damn it. The body? Straight out refuses to stay vigilante forever. Especially when there appears to be no threat. When things are soft and soothing. It starts to slip through his fingers like sand. He keeps catching himself. Forgetting. Catching himself again.
Ra's has such... such a soothing voice, when he wishes too. Like rich cologne on a winter's coat, wrapping you in a masculine warmth against the cold. Strong, deadly hands. Unfairly good as they gently cradle his head, run fancy soaps and scented oils through his hair. Untwist the mess his muscles have become.
Like... like he's on some sort of high end vacation.
Or some pampered pet.
He's actually back to a healthy weight. He doesn't look like a disaster survivor.. and he just... just...
He has to get out of here. Soon. I-It's so comfortable. Soothing. Like sinking into warm honey, it clings. He just... there's this growing part of him that wants... because... because, yeah. Yeah, maybe he IS tired. Maybe it WOULD be nice. To stay. To be taken care off. Pampered.
But he CAN'T.
He has to get out.
So he confronts Ra's. What's it gonna take? Hopefully. This will blow up. A fight maybe. Something to give him some ANGER. Anything but this damn comfort and softness. It's sapping his will to fight. But of course not. Ra's has got him read like a learning letters pamphlet.
Of COURSE Ra's will let him go~!
...if Tim does... one little thing for him...
Those fucking TRADES. And this is it, he can feel it. Trap already sprung and now comes the moment to either gnaw off his own leg or be captured. Ra's looks so unbearably pleased. Victorious in his machinations and now reaping his reward. Tim wants to break his stupid smug face. But that will get him nowhere.
What.
What is the God damned trade.
Oh~ Just a moment of your time. Allow Ra's a taste of the feast you so vigilantly gaurd against him. He spreads his arms, elegant, white teeth flashing like a damn shark. The very picture of a wealthy, powerful, scoundrel. Promises in a low purr to behave.
The part of his brain that lights up when he's about to do something stupid, practically explodes from his head just to beat him to death. Sings the song of ten thousand klaxons. Oh... oh this is so PROFOUNDLY stupid there are are no words. Is possibly THE WORST idea.
He still... agrees.
Watchs Ra's not so much stand, as rise to his feet. Fluid and controlled. Letting his robe slide from his shoulders in an easy roll, to fall into a pool on the ground. The sword is set aside. Ra's focus on him. Undivided. It... it should not be MORE terrifying, unarmed and in just pants, then armed and in full armor. And yet...
Tim's mouth feels bone dry. Mistake. Mistaaaake....
He feels hunted. There aren't even that many steps, to cross the room. Yet he's shifted, distinctly, from a stride to a prowl. Tim feels absolutely no shame in backing up. Trying to gather his thoughts.
Ra's doesn't give him the chance.
Before Tim can even full register more then "too close!", a powerful hand is sliding through his hair to cradle is head, an arm like steel wrapping around his waist. He's pulled into an overwhelming kiss.
He brain stops.
The taste of Chai and a commanding mouth, overwhelm him. Steal his air. Tease and focus his attention. He's manhandled back onto the bed. A hand trails down Tim's body, another reaching up to wrench one of the pillows free of the pile. A possessive mouth slowly meanders down his body.
Kisses, sucked marks, teeth lined tastes of skin.
His hands grip like they want to imprint themselves. Leave permanent marks. Are trying, very, very hard not too. Not yet at least.
Not even divine intervention could save his shorts, Ra's rips them. Guides a pillow under his lower back. Tim has all of a second to be confused before everything Iights up. He chokes on a squeak.
The rumbling laugh Ra's makes does NOT help. Powerful hands holding him in place, keeping him from escaping the... the hot and wet! Tim writhes. It not the first time someone's eaten him out. But... but! It didn't feel like this! Was teammates and just fooling around. Not practiced seduction and centuries of skill.
His legs are already shaking. He's gasping for air. Trying to buck his hips closer to that magnificent feeling, trying to get away from how overwhelming it feels. Clenching his fists in the sheets. Whining like he's wounded.
It's PERFECT. Ra's KNEW he'd be weak to pleasure.
Knew his Detective was worth the wait.
Rolls and teases his tounge down, just a bit. Brings calloused fingers into play. To drive his Detective mad. Tease his sensitive little gem, while he plunders deep and cruelly with his tounge.
It's delightful. Watching him come apart. Again and again. First on his tounge alone, then joined by his fingers. Finding the places he KNOWS his Detective his most sensitive, and rubbing, stroking, teasing without mercy or relent.
Until even that magnificently stubborn boy, is a teary, drooling, red faced mess. Thighs painted with his pleasure. Limbs weak and trembling. So BEAUTIFULLY compliant and needy. Reliant on Ra's for everything. Craving his warmth. His care.
Head empty of those ever rushing thoughts.
He, of course, keeps his word. Let's Tim go. Back to the real world. Too the cruelties man does to man. Too being unappreciated. Tired and overworked. Too an empty, uncomfortable bed. A poor diet. The judgments of so called friends.
Hmmm~ Ra's wonders~ how long will it take?
Before the world does his job for him? Again. Before his Detective is tired. Sore. Lonely. Worn down and in need of care. Of a little... pleasure. A warm body to hold him in the night. Companionship IS vital to a healthy human mind and body, after all. Ra's can be a "friend". A lover. Whatever works, really.
He has time.
And Tim? Tim made the mistake of letting him in.
-🐼🐼🐼
ra's being MASSIVELY charismatic, having an effect that just lulls people into wanting to follow and obey him makes a lot of sense honestly! especially since for the most part the situtation given is that people follow ra's more out of admiration for his power/control of the lazarus pits and that's really it. ra's being incredibly charismatic and inspriring the fanatical loyalty that cults exhibit is soo good!
69 notes · View notes
astaroth1357 · 2 years
Text
The Brothers are Damsels in Distress!!
I was flicking through my feed, saw something and went: "But what if Rapunzel??"
Content: Hints of Fairytale AU, but on crack
Scenario: One morning, through utterly inexplicable means, a portal opens up and drops one of the brothers into a cottage-style tower straight out of a fairy tale. The whole room is enchanted so they can't break out on their own. Their only means of communication are their phones and a crystal ball they can use to see what the MC and others are doing.
How are they taking this?
~♡♡♡~
Lucifer
This man is livid. Fuming. Almost apoplectic.
He has no idea what being has decided to put him in this position, but he's already planning on making them Cerberus' next chewtoy the moment he finds his freedom.
After establishing that he can't teleport out, break the walls, jump out the window, tunnel through the floorboards, or just blow up the room out of spite... he finally accepts his fate.
Lucifer... is miserable. He's doing his best to conserve his phone battery so he can still coordinate with his brothers from a distance, but watching them stumble around cluelessly through the crystal ball is honestly painful. He quite frequently shouts at the feed like a football dad screaming at a TV.
He puts all his hopes in MC and Dia coming up with something because everyone else is mostly useless... There were multiple instances where he just holds his head in his hands, resigning to the idea of being stuck there until he's just a dried out skeleton.
Even if they finally get to him, he won't be happy. He'll be humiliated by the whole affair and trying to anything in his power to save face and get out on his own as much as possible. Anyone who values their lives will forget that it ever happened in the future.
Bonus:
MC: *standing under the tower*
MC: Lucifer! Lucifer!! Let down your-gah!!
*they rub their head and feel something wet hit their fingers*
MC: Was... was that a tomato?!
MC: You know what, fuck you man!! Go help yourself!! 🤬
Mammon
He's flipping out.
An extrovert like Mammon trapped in a room like that all alone?? He'll go stir crazy in three days tops!
It took twenty minutes and 3 selfies for anyone besides the MC to believe that he was trapped in there. ... Then MC raking his brothers over the coals for them to actually start treating it like a priority. He really didn't do it to himself this time, dammit!!
Mammon's ADHD brain is already going mad after a few hours of nothing to do. MC gets piles upon piles of texts ranging from, "Are ya any closer yet??" to "MC, if ya can't get me out of here, take care of Goldie for me... my car too."
They have to reassure him multiple times that he would not, in fact, die in there if they could help it. Though after his phone goes dead from the constant spam, they do start to worry...
If there was any bright side to the situation, Mammon gets to watch his treasured MC absolutely tear his brothers a new one if any one of them so much as think about giving up or postponing the search. Their anger is truly frightening... so good thing he isn't there! Ha!!
When they finally find him, he's never lept for the MC so fast... Literally. He literally jumps. He wants out of there FAST.
Bonus:
MC: *standing under the tower*
MC: Mammon! Mammon!! Let down your-
Mammon: *leaps from the tower, knowing they'll find some way to catch him*
Mammon: FREEDOM!!!
MC: Oh dear God, don't just jump!!! 😫
Leviathan
Panicking like crazy and running around in circles. Can you even comprehend how many premieres he's going to miss like this?? The spoilers!!!
After the MC gets a hold of him through the phone and they tell him to hang tight and if he figures out where he is to let them know.
So uh... He had intends to keep his phone usage down to a minimum so he could conserve the battery life. However, he figures he could at least do his mobile game check-ins and the next thing he knows his phone dies during a weekly dungeon....
Honestly? His soul might have died along with it.
He spends a lot of time staring at the crystal ball, hoping in vain that one of his brothers will watch TV or something, anything that could give him something to do.
That was his only way of communicating with the others and, more importantly, the only source of entertainment an otaku like him could have in a room like this! Does he look like a cottagecore enthusiast?? No!!!
If anyone is in his bedroom, he'll try to zoom in on Henry's fishbowl and talk to him to decompress... He already feels like such an idiot for wasting his battery life. Henry, why is he so stupid...?
Yeah, he's going to be bored and moping until somebody comes to find him. But at least he won't mind the isolation as much so they're not too worried about him going crazy in there. He'll be fine... right?
Bouns:
MC: *standing under the tower*
MC: Leviathan! Leviathan!! Let down your-
Levi: *scrambles to the window* MC, DID YOU BRING A CHARGER?!?
MC: PRIORITIES, LEVI!!!
Satan
He is naturally furious, but also weirdly intrigued. Is this like one of those escape rooms MC sometimes talks to him about...?
Much like Lucifer, he quickly finds that trying to break through stuff wouldn't get him anywhere... as the heavy countertop he smashed into smithereens again the wall shows him.
Tantrum out of his system, Satan is probably the most rational the seven. He does his best to communicate to the others where the tower is based on the landmarks he can see, but he also uses his phone sparingly to conserve the battery.
While they all work to track him down, he keeps himself busy by listening to their plans through the crystal ball or searching for any weak points on his own, because what good would just sitting around do him?
He's surprisingly flexible. If the group plans to look for him from above, he sets out cushions on the floor just in case of any falls. If they want to look for him on foot, he makes sure to light as many candles as possible to give them a makeshift beacon to guide them.
By the time that they actually find him, he's already figured out a couple ways to help get him out depending on the possible exit points and has prepared accordingly.
Bonus:
MC: *standing under the tower*
MC: Satan! Satan!! Let down your-eh?
*they watch as a looong chain of tied together sheets, tablecloths, and towels gets tossed from the window, followed by Satan using it to calmly rappel down*
MC: U-uh.... Never mind! I guess you got this. 😅
Asmodeus
Asmo would be living his best life if only anyone could actually see him up there!
Asmo is all down for playing the role of the helpless, beautiful victim in need of rescuing but how is he supposed to pull that off if he's trapped all alone?? There's no attention! No pageantry!!
After getting the situation across to his brothers, he also kills his phone battery by posting selfies and livestreaming the situation to his adoring public. They're so scared for him, but he's not worried. MC will come find him, after all!
By the time they actually arrive to come get him, Asmo has already dolled himself up to play his newfound role perfectly.
After his phone dies, he keeps himself busy in small ways... Like practicing his relieved expression in a mirror for a few hours. Or using the curtains and his sewing skills to make himself just the cutest gown!
MC: *stand under the tower*
MC: Asmodeus! Asmodeus!! Let down your... hair...?
Asmo: ✨️COMING~!!✨️
*the MC watches as yards and yards of beautiful strawberry blonde trusses indeed gets thrown from the window above, all connected to a very hammy Asmo standing on the window sill*
MC: ... It's only been two days, how did you even grow all that?!?
Beelzebub
Very confused, upset, and hungry. Somebody please help him!!
The minute that Beel sends the message that he is trapped somewhere, it was really all hands on deck. MC and Belphie were freaking out of course, but all of his other brothers were just as worried as well. This is Beel here! He's going to be so hungry out there!!
And hungry he is. He went through an entire two weeks worth of rations stored in the room within an hour. By the end of the day, he's so mindlessly hungry that he starts taking bites out of the tables, chairs, and even his phone...
Since he can't use half of a phone, Beel has to watch his brothers work through the crystal ball while he gnats on the drapery, feeling guilty about making them all so worried...
At least this time his brothers don't argue nor fight with each other at all. Everyone understands what the priorities are and they follow whatever roles they are to the letter. They want to find him ASAP and they even take turns comforting Belphie with MC while they search.
By the time they find him, the whole family is willing to bust through the walls with pickaxes if that's what it takes to get to him. He would feel really touched by all of their efforts, but he's just so hungry... need... food.....
Bonus:
MC: *standing under the tower*
MC: Beel! BEEL!! I BROUGHT BURGERS!!!
Beel: MC... s-so hungry.... 😓
MC: You stay right there, don't move a muscle! I'm coming to you!! 😫
Belphegor
... Deja vu, right?
So this isn’t Belphie's first rodeo. He's practically a "stuffed up somewhere he can't escape from" veteran now. Though this place was more... cozy than the attic.
Call it the cow in him, but he's always had a soft spot for cottagecore. It's so homey and comforting, just perfect for lazy naps under fruit trees! The atmosphere is so relaxing...
So he naps. A LOT.
He ends up communicating a lot more sporadically with everyone than the others. Largely due to the long periods of unconsciousness. But like, could you blame him? What was he even supposed to do in there? MC would figure something out again.
Whenever he goes over to check the progress, he shoots out sarcastic texts about his brothers' dumb ideas to pass the time. It's very apparent how unconcerned he is about this from the get-go...
Does he know when they are on their way to get him? Surprisingly yes. Does he manage to stay awake until they show up? Unsurprisingly no. Go figure...
Bonus:
MC: *standing under the tower*
MC: Belphegor! Belphegor!! Let down your hair!
Belphegor: .....
MC: ... Belphie?
Belphegor: .....
MC: Bitch, are you seriously asleep?!
Belphegor: ....zzzZZzzz....
MC: ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?!
838 notes · View notes
rius-cave · 5 months
Note
I just had this weird scenario pop into my head!
So, as we know, Adam is on the chubby side, and so he probably gained man boobs. Probably big enough to wear a bra. I'd imagine that Adam would try to wear a bra out of pure curiosity, while alone but gets caught by Lucifer...
What do you think????
I thought I should pair this ask with this other one:
Tumblr media
I love it LMAO
First off, Adam DEFINITELY has enough to fill a bra, A cup definitely, maybe even B (in my HCs at least) and he would DEFINITELY try one on just because he's that stupid and silly, he'd probably do it to laugh a little at himself.
Then yes, Adam discovers him and finds it amusing but once his laughter dies out, he actually starts helping him and getting him a good fit lolol. Adam wants to die for a third time, of course, but is comically swept along either way.
Angel: c'mon! You gotta put in a little more effort for Mr. Royal Dick!
Adam: excuse me, WHAT!? I'M NOT LETTING LUCIFER SEE ME LIKE-
Angel: Adam, buddy, listen to me... Who's the expert here?
Adam: why the fuck does that-
Angel: that's right, moi. Now what does that tell ya? It tells ya that when Angel fucking Dust tells you that wearing this two piece will get you clawing and tearing up those royal bedsheets, you fuckin' listen ta me.
Adam: .........
Adam: if a word of this gets out I'm telling Charlie about the stash behind the mirror
Angel: -smiles widely and lifts his hand- scout's honor!
116 notes · View notes
Text
I've been dreaming of the Invulnerable Poison Apple.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. This is his home, his roots, and he will cherish them always.
No matter how he may change.
How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?
Tumblr media
The Harveston roads stretch out for what seems like forever. Dirt paths uninterrupted by the hustle and bustle of modern life.
It's just Epel and his beloved blastcycle set at a breakneck pace. Green grass below... Mother Nature has pushed through the melting snow at last, sounding the call of spring.
The crate secured to back of his bike is always lighter on the trip home than on the trip to the closest city. With the latest load dropped off, he’s free to fly back.
He loves this feeling—the rush of adrenaline, the wind weaving through his hair. It’s a taste of home, a slice of heaven he can get nowhere else.
Up ahead, his family’s farm comes into view. The outline of their orchard, flush with the buds of new life, is a familiar sight. What's new are the crops whose heads sprout up over the treetops: a giant peach, a pumpkin large enough to be a carriage, and more—all the result of magical modification.
He grins, revving up his engine and pushing forward. Faster, faster.
Then he breaks, skidding to a halt before their wooden front porch. The engine dies, leaving only the erratic pounding of his heart in the smoke and dust.
“I’m home!!” Epel announces, dismounting. He removes his helmet and places it on his blastcycle's seat. Wisps of lilac cling to his forehead, his fair skin colored with the blush of exhilaration.
Similar heads of hair—members of the Felmier family, dressed in casual clothes and fruit-picking gloves—dot the orchard. They meet his eyes and wave.
He counts them: his mom and his dad, his aunt and uncle. His cousin is too young to get their hands down and dirty yet, so they're inside with their grandparents.
So why is there one extra body amid the apple trees? One person, hunched over on a ladder, a shaking arm outstretched to pluck the fruit.
Not her. Please, not her.
Epel immediately bolts into the fields.
The tree leaves shudder and shift, branches swaying, as if they, too, are loved ones welcoming him back. The air is sweet and uplifting, like the faintest taste of a fizzy drink.
"Meemaw? Meemaw…!!" Epel hollers, racing over to her.
She finally has a grip on the apple, gives it a firm twist, and frees it from its branch. For one frightening moment, she wobbles, threatening to topple from high up. Epel arrives just in time, grabbing onto her ladder to steady it.
He heaves a sigh.
"I told ya to try ‘n not overexert yourself…!” Epel scolds her. His hometown’s dialect slips out, smooth as butter and natural sounding to their ears. “You’re gettin’ to that age where doing physical labor ain’t the easiest. At least leave the heavy liftin’ to me ‘n the others!”
“These apples aren’t goin’ to pick themselves!!” Marja grumbles. “Would you rather trade jobs and let me be the one to run deliveries? You wanna be the one to let this old lady on the loose?”
He bites his lower lip. “No, but… I can take some of yer tasks to lighten yer workload. Please, let me.”
His grandma slowly climbs down the ladder. (Epel observes her dissent carefully and maintains his grip on her stairway.) She’s delicate, with rounded, soft features—but he knows she is anything but demure, especially upset.
When Marja lands next to him, he notices her height right away. He had always been just a bit taller than her—“My growin’ little man,” she’d say, giving him a pat on the head—but his grandma seems to have shrunken in the wash.
Marja prods him in the chest, and though she has more strength than one might give her credit for, his muscles are taut and hold their ground. He’s taller, stronger.
The same physique as a Savanaclaw student.
“Don’t get cocky with me just because you’ve hit a growth spurt ‘n yer transferrin’ to a rough ‘b tough new dorm! I’m a Felmier too.” She shoves the freshly picked apple at her grandson’s face. “Ya fell from our family tree, so you ain’t the only one who’s hardy ‘round here. Don’t worry about me so much!”
“I can’t help it, meemaw,” Epel protests. “We’re gettin’ busier and busier and it’s hard to keep up with the pace.”
“Business is boomin’. I don’t see what you’re yappin’ about!”
“Last thing I want’s for you to be shipped off to the nearest hospital cuz you hurt yourself on our produce.”
“Hush now!! I’lll be fine,” she insists with a broad smile. “I’ve got you and everyone else to count on, so I know I’m in good hands.”
Marja drops the apple into a waiting wicker basket at her feet. It lands atop a pile like a ruby laid in the center of a crown. She bends over and picks up her haul with a grunt and starts waddling towards their house.
Epel remains by her side, matching her walk with a few long strides. He may as well be helping her cross the street, but he stays at a considerable distance. Enough to be polite, but still close enough to swoop in if she takes an unceremonious fall.
“‘Sides, I work cuz I want to, not that I have to,” Marja tuts, clambering up the porch steps. Epel offers her his muscular arm, but she refuses it.
“Gotta keep these weary bones active! And… gotta do my best to support ya where I can.”
“You’ve always done that for us, meemaw.”
All that and more.
She laughs. “Yer not the little boy that needs a scoldin’ for whooping the older kids’ tuchuses anymore. Yer a man now, Epel—but even men ain’t islands. Doesn’t matter how many fights ya win by yerself, ‘s nice to have people to fall back on.”
The front door swings open. Marja shuffles inside, followed by her grandson.
“I understand what yer sayin’. Really, I do. Still, nothin’s gonna stop me from givin’ ya lip. ‘S in our blood,” Epel jokes, knocking at his temples. “Stubbornness runs in the family. I must get it from you.”
“You’re gettin’ real cheeky with me today,” Marja chuckles, setting her basket down on a counter. “I know, how about a good ol’ apple pie with all the fixings? That oughta fill yer belly and fix up yer sass.”
Epel responds with a toothy grin. “Nothin’ hits the spot like your home cooking, meemaw.”
Her eyes twinkle warmly. “Darn right.”
71 notes · View notes
steddieas-shegoes · 26 days
Text
i'm glad i get forever to see where you end
for @messessentialist's birthday. i already said it all on ao3, but i love you biiiiitch. happy birthday, kissin you on the lips with tongue, cuddling you while we steal cool rocks from national parks (allegedly).
rated e | 14,135 words | cw: minor character deaths offscreen, brief discussion of grief and mourning, alcohol | check ao3 for all tags
🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣
He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.
But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.
“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”
Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.
For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.
For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.
He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.
And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.
He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.
He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.
It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.
Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.
But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.
Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.
“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”
Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.
“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”
“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”
Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”
He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.
Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.
“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”
This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.
“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”
Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.
“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.
“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”
And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.
“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”
“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.
“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”
Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.
Hearing it changes something in Wayne.
“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.
“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”
“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”
They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.
A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.
“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.
“Sure is.”
“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.
“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.
“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”
Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.
“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”
Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.
“I’m an orphan!”
Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.
“Sorry, what?”
“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.
“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”
“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”
“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”
Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.
He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.
“Let’s eat.”
- - -
Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.
Wayne’s been waiting.
Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.
“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.
“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.
“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”
He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.
Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.
It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.
It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.
“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”
“Could Steve come?”
“Sure.”
He agrees without a second thought.
This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.
Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.
“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”
Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.
- - -
Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.
But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.
“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.
“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”
“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”
Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.
“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”
“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.
“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”
Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.
He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.
He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.
“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.
“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”
“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.
“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”
“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”
“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.
But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.
“Steve, I feel like-“
“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”
Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”
“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”
“Not surprising.”
“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”
Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”
Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.
- - -
The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.
Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.
It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.
They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.
Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…
“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.
“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”
“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”
He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.
His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.
Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.
But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.
He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.
Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.
“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.
“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.
“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”
“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”
Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.
Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.
As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.
Steve doesn’t notice him.
- - -
The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.
When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.
Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.
It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.
“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”
“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.
“Rock, paper, scissors?”
“That’s stupid.”
Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”
“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”
Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.
He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.
“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.
“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”
Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.
“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”
“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.
“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.
Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.
He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.
They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.
“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”
“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”
Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.
“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”
“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”
Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.
“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.
“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”
Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.
“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”
Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.
He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.
“You mean everything to me.”
Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.
Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.
He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.
He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.
Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.
He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.
This wasn’t a dream, though.
They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.
He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.
Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.
Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.
“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.
“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”
Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”
This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.
In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.
A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.
Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.
That’s just who Steve is.
Eddie loves him for it.
“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”
Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.
He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.
“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”
“That sounds boring.”
Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.
It’s easy.
A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.
“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.
“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.
Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.
He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.
“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.
Steve relaxes and sighs.
“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”
“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”
“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”
Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”
“A kiss.”
Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.
“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”
Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.
“One kiss.”
“Only one?” Eddie pouts.
“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”
“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”
“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.
Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.
He gets to look now.
After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.
He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.
“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.
“Like you wanna eat me.”
“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”
Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.
“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.
Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.
When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.
“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”
Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.
Steve wordlessly points it out to him.
“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.
“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”
“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.
“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”
Wayne nods. “And the bait.”
“I thought we used plastic stuff.”
“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”
Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”
“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.
“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”
They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.
Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.
Or tomorrow.
“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.
Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.
“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.
“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”
Eddie nods and leaves the room.
He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.
He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.
But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.
Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Being on the boat is different as an adult.
The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.
This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.
Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.
“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”
Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.
Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”
Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.
It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.
They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.
Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.
He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.
Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.
Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.
When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”
Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.
Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.
“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.
The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.
“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”
Steve nods and turns back.
Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.
Eddie watches Wayne curiously.
Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.
Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”
“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.
Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.
“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.
“It won’t. Keep going.”
When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.
“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”
Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.
“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.
“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”
Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.
“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”
Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”
Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.
Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.
He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.
“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.
“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”
Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.
They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.
Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.
So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.
He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.
He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.
He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.
He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.
📼📼📼📼📼
Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.
He’s never been happier.
He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.
Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.
Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.
After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.
Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.
Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.
“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”
Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.
As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.
“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.
“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”
“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.
“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”
“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”
Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.
“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”
“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”
“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.
“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.
Steve shakes his head, watching closely.
“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”
Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.
“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”
Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.
“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”
Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.
“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”
Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.
“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”
Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.
“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”
Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.
“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”
Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.
All he really has is Wayne.
“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”
Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.
But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.
“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”
“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”
Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.
“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.
“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”
Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.
Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.
As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.
“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.
“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”
“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.
“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.
“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”
“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.
“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”
Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.
It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.
He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.
Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.
And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.
Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.
“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”
Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.
“Sounds good.”
Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.
“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.
“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”
Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.
They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.
Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.
He doesn’t care to hide it.
Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.
“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.
“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.
“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”
Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.
Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.
He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.
“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.
Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.
“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”
“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”
They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.
It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.
“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”
Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.
To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.
“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”
Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”
“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”
“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”
Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”
Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.
“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.
“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.
Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.
When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.
He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.
But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.
“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.
“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.
“Now.”
“It’s dark.”
“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.
“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.
“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.
Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.
“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.
“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”
Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.
Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.
“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.
Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.
When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.
“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”
“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”
Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.
Being here with Eddie is perfect.
Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.
“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.
“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.
“Just a little more.”
Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.
When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.
Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.
“Okay?” Steve asks.
Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”
Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.
“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”
Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.
“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”
Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.
“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”
Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.
“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”
Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.
“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”
Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.
“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”
Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.
“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”
Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.
But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.
“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”
Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”
Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”
Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.
Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.
“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”
Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.
“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.
“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”
“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”
Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.
“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.
“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”
Steve nods. That’s all he can do.
Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.
Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.
Eddie shivers in his arms.
“Cold?” Steve whispers.
Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”
So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.
When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.
They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.
Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.
The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.
“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.
“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”
Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.
“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.
Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.
“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.
“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.
Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.
Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.
“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.
Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.
“New record for me, too, baby.”
“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.
“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.
“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”
“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.
“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”
“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.
“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.
Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.
“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”
Steve smiles shyly back at him.
“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”
Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.
“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”
“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.
“I really do.”
🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸
Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.
Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.
He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.
Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.
The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.
He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.
His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.
Eddie is close enough now.
It’s definitely a heart.
“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”
“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”
“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”
“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.
“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”
“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”
“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”
“So do I.”
Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.
“Fine.”
As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.
“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.
“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”
Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”
“Touché.”
Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.
“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”
“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”
“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.
Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.
“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.
“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.
“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”
Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.
He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.
Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”
Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.
“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”
“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”
Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.
“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.
“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“
Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.
“Jesus, the mouth on you.”
“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”
“I’ll make the rest.”
Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.
He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.
He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.
This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.
🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣
five years later
Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.
When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.
“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.
“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”
Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”
“Oh no.” Steve groaned.
Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.
Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.
“I hate the outdoors.”
“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.
Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.
Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.
He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.
Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.
They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.
“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”
“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”
Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.
“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.
“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”
“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”
As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.
He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.
Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.
“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.
“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.
“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.
“Ha!” Steve yells.
Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.
86 notes · View notes
sparrowrye · 7 months
Text
Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 13
Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.
Previous Part
Part 12: didn't ask for it
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"How am I to blame for this?" Alastor demanded.
"You don't exactly have a relationship with the girl," Rosie responded. The two of them still stood in the library. "She's your soulmate. No one expected you to even have one."
"She's infuriating, that's what she is. And you know just as well how I feel about soulmates." He turned away.
Rosie wasn't having it. She put her hands on her hips with a sharp, "You could at least be nice to the poor thing. She looked terrified the first time you brought her to me. A lot has happened to that girl and now she's trying to learn magic while also dealing with your grumpy ass. No wonder it didn't work tonight."
"It didn't work because she is not mentally strong enough to handle it."
"I don't think you're giving her enough credit, my friend. She's come a long way. Not many people can unravel a curse like she is."
"She is slowing down my progress and is a risk to everything I've built."
"Well if ya put more effort into having a relationship with this girl, that might no longer be the case."
"I will do no such thing, Rosie," his voice grew heavy with static, "If it wasn't for this soulmate magic I'd have killed her already."
"Alastor," Rosie's voice softened, "she needs your guidance. If you train her to your level, you'd never have to worry about her again. She has a lot more magic stored away, I can feel it. And I know you can too." She straightened his bow tie.
"Last thing I need is for an out of control soulmate who I can't keep under wraps."
"Oh goodness Alastor," she put a hand to her head, "You're a real jerk sometimes, ya know that?"
"I'm aware." His voice turned chipper.
"Tell you what? We'll stop with the mind magic for a couple weeks to give you, and especially her, a break. But, in return, I want you to read a book on soulmate magic. And have tea with me to talk about it."
"Are you attempting to give me homework?" he asked.
"Of course not," she picked up her cloth bag, "I'm giving it to you."
****
I didn't leave my room for days.
I either slept, read, paced, or took a bath. I didn't bother going downstairs to eat, resulting in Niffty bringing plates of food up to me that I hardly touched. She was the only one who I permitted in my room. Any time Husker tried to walk in I immediately chased him out. I wanted nothing to do with anyone.
Not even a day after the incident I started having nightmares about it. No matter if I was going to sleep for the night or taking a short nap, the memory instantly came back. It left me drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe. So I stopped sleeping.
That created a whole different problem.
I filled my time with more reading or pacing. I held my Human appearance until I couldn't, burying the Demon side of me as far down as I could. I blocked all my senses off and kept everything out of my head. I wanted to be a Human with Slight magic again. I wanted none of this ridiculous magic nonsense. I wanted to go back to being a human trying to find her way in the hard world.
A knock came at the door. I permitted Niffty to come in but when I looked it wasn't her. I bristled at the sight of Husker.
"I'm just bringing you dinner," he said, walking in with a tray, "Niffty is at war with the bugs in the basement."
I backed myself into the corner of the room to keep distance between us. My Demon side had come out and my shadow grew in size around me.
"I also wanted to check on you. Make sure you were oka-"
"I'm fine now get out!" I snapped. He backed away to the door but didn't leave. "I said get out!"
"I'm worried," he admitted, "I'm worried that you're going to spiral and get lost in your head in this state."
"And who's fucking fault is that?" I yelled. "I couldn't even remember the incident until you all gave me the damn drug."
"I didn't know they were going to do that." He put his hands up in surrender.
"Please, you're just as bad as Alastor. Anything that happens you just go with it. You're nothing but a bystander."
His wings and ears dropped. I realized what I said a moment too late, covering my mouth with my clawed hand. It wasn't up to Husker how he played his part. Alastor had him on a leash with their deal.
"I'm sorry."
"Whatever," he said quietly, looking down at his paws, "I get it. I'm uh...I'll leave you alone. But...just be careful not to fall into the shadows. We might not get you back this time." He opened the door.
"Then leave me there." He didn't move. "I'm tired of this all. I'm tired of the training and training and training. I'm tired of being pushed to do anything and everything. I'm tired of being told to keep climbing the ladder I didn't even want to climb."
I fell quiet for a moment. Husker waited and watched.
"I was perfectly fine on my own, you know. I had survived ring fights for twenty-one years, escaped my old master, and hid away for five more years. Now all of a sudden I'm incapable of keeping myself safe?
"If anything, I'm safer than I ever was before. I'm a Demon. I've got Full magic and natural defenses now. Before, I had nothing more than myself and a hint of magic."
"I know Al has his own reasons for keeping you here and making you learn magic," he said, "but Rosie and I are doing it to help you. To give you a better chance for when you've reached Al's level and can go on your own."
"I'm not a child!" I took a daring step towards the door, wings extended. "And did you not hear what I just said? I survived for twenty-six years in a fighting ring with nothing more than Slight magic. I can now handle myself better than I ever thought possible. I'm done with this 'magic training'. I never asked for it. I never asked for any of this."
"But rather than having a better chance at surviving, you could train into someone impossible to kill. Word is bound to get out that you're Al's soulmate."
"Forget it. You're not listening." I turned my back to him. He tried to say more but nothing came out quite right. So, with ears down, he closed the door behind him.
Later that night, when the moon was out and as bright as the sun, I left. I quickly dressed and opened the window enough for me to slip out. I opened my wings and glided quietly down the cliff face. I flew as far as I could before my wings grew tired. I walked the rest of the way to the pier, forcing myself not to look over my shoulder. Fear had disappeared along with all my other senses.
Eventually, I made it to the pier. I stood at the poles and looked down the beach. Everything was quiet save for the crashing of the waves. I could do this. I could go back into hiding and keep myself safer than ever before.
"She's getting away!" someone yelled.
I spun in circles around the post but saw no red. Neither Alastor nor Husker were near. I jumped when feet clambered overhead. A girl was sprinting down the pier with three men chasing after her. I hurried up the stairs and followed after them.
The girl had a limp and I could tell the men were getting closer by the second. She clambered on the fence at the edge of the pier and jumped! The wind pulled her back right into one of the men's arms. He held her tight as one of them secured a magic strap to her head. She was from a fighting ring.
"Let her go." I didn't realize I had spoken until all three men turned to look at me. Not even five minutes out and I was already dealing with the ring fights again.
"The hell did you just say?" one of them asked.
"I said let her go." I took a few steps closer.
"And what if we don't? You want to be her replacement?"
"No. I want to be her savior." I casted a huge gust of wind against the one man, sending him straight into the fence and sprawling into the ocean. One man held onto the girl while the bigger man took a stance against me.
He casted a blaze at my face but I shoved it into the ocean. He did this several times as I took one step after the other towards him. I tried using wind to move him but that did very little.
I carried a wave over the fence and took his feet out from under him. He tried casting fire again but the water had dampened it. I used the remaining water and slid him across the deck. He slammed into the fence and fell into the ocean with his partner.
"Stay back!" The last man held a knife to the girl's throat. He had backed all the way into the corner. "Or I'll slice her throat."
I noticed the moon casting shadows on the deck. I looked back up at the man so he didn't suspect anything when the shadows started moving. They climbed up his leg and encased his head in darkness. I casted myself over to them and pulled his hand away from her neck.
I grabbed his throat and threw him up and over the fence, plunging down to the dark waters below. The shadows returned to their original spots. I then turned to the girl who was trying to unclip the headband.
"Let me help. Where did you come from?"
"A ring fight." The girl seemed to be in her teens. She had short hair clipped well above her shoulders.
"Well, you're not going back there again." I tossed the headband into the water.
"But I have to," she said.
"Why?"
"Because my friend is there. We made a promise to get help when the other one got out." She rubbed her hands over her arms in an effort to get warm. I put my arm around her as we walked back towards the town.
Many times I had seen the police try to take down a ring fight. There was always a guard force that kept them at bay while guests ran and masters grabbed their fighters. The magic-dampening drug was the easiest and quickest way to move us without a fight. The police never succeeded in saving us.
But that was because they used brute force. They didn't know how it worked on the inside. I did.
"Can you show me where it is?" I asked her, an idea suddenly springing to life in my head.
"I have to go to the police first—"
"I know. But if the police try to take it down now, they'll all scatter. I can get your friend out and all the others tonight."
"But...the police can send officers—"
"You're right." I stood in front of her with my hands on her shoulders. "You're right, they have the manpower. But sometimes that's not what is needed. They don't know how it works in there."
"Do you?"
I pushed my lips together. "Yes."
"You're...a master?" She stepped away from me.
"What? No. No! I'm...I was a ring fighter."
"Oh. Really? What's your name?"
"Python."
Her eyes widened. "Who was your master?" she asked slowly.
"Master Striker."
Her mouth dropped open. "You...you're...what are...you escaped?"
"A couple years ago, actually." I wasn't expecting her to know me. How many fighters knew my name? How many of them feared my name? Did some of my opponents dread hearing my name against theirs? I shook the horrible thought from my mind. "So now you know why I think it's best not to involve the police yet."
"But what are you going to do? You can't do anything against Full masters."
"I'm not. Everyone leaves before dawn. No one is there except for the guards and the fighters. Tell you what, if I don't succeed tonight, you can go to the police. Does that sound fair?"
She thought for a moment. "Okay."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's note:
It hurt so bad to write the scene where she yelled at Husker. But I promise I'll make up for it when I publish the next chapter. I'm so excited for it!
116 notes · View notes
ellewod · 30 days
Note
So sad we didn't get at least one sex scene between Aegon and Helaena 😔. We can have 3 between Alicent and Criston, even Daemon fucking his mom, but not these two? Imagine when after the staircase scene we'd have gotten a scene of him still thinking about her and how he doesn't know how to comfort her because they don't understand each other, so he does it the only way he knows how? By going to her room and both of them fucking the pain away? It would also have been a good opportunity to show Helaena having agency and showing other emotions and understanding him without words (her character has been extremely underutilised. It's like they dont know what to do with her). Would have also been an ideal moment to make Maelor.
YAS to everything you said. but trust me, they would never show aegon having consensual sex, especially not with his wife, since he is sexually depraved and disgusting like all the green characters, you know :)
and agreed, they definitely did not know what to do with helaena. she did not even get to properly mourn her son?! aw he died ya know but it’s whatevs i guess babies die all the time ya know…. as if he died of disease or hunger? which would’ve been awful enough, but no? he was beheaded in his crib while she was forced to witness it? insulting to both her character and jaehaerys tbh.
fans will have to bring justice to helaegon!failmarriage i guess :(
25 notes · View notes
thedeal-if · 2 years
Text
THE DEAL ACT 1: INFERNO - Updated June 18!
Tumblr media
DEMO - FAQ - FORUM - NAVIGATION
Next update ???
“when the shackles trapping destruction shatter, the pale rider shall scorch the earth. thus, all shall be plunged in darkness”
Tumblr media
Tag(s): Supernatural, Demons, Romance, YA, Surreal, LGBTQ+, Horror, Text-based, Dark, Mystery, Story Rich.
It has been four years since your parents died. Your younger sister and you have been left in shambles, struggling to pick up the pieces of what’s left of your family. But nothing ever goes right; you devote your life to taking care of Chrissy, and she devotes hers to resent you—and to something darker of which you are unaware.
One day, Chrissy goes missing, and the only way for you to get her back is to journey into hell. In order to do that, you are forced to make a deal.
What happens next is up to you.
Trigger Warning(s): Violence, Crude Humour, Strong Language, Optional sex scenes, Gore, Body Horror, Depression and depictions of other mental illnesses, Alcohol and drug consumption (optional in MC), etc.
Updated June 18 (Prologue + Chapter 1 part 1, +20k words)
Features and Characters bellow
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Descend into the land down below, 'Inferno', a reimagining of Hell with a more modern twist.
Attempt to rescue your sister from the clutches of Lucifer.
Uncover the secret behind your strangely alluring soul.
Discover the plan of the mysterious cloaked figure and the woman who one day appears in your dream.
Customize your MC: from their past to their present. MC's personality shapes the story. Each trait has its ups and downs, and they dictate how your character reacts to certain events. A more artistic MC will see the world differently, and their own inner world will be portrayed differently. Who they were, who they are, who they will be: it all has an impact on how they behave.
Be either Impulsive or Cautious, Flirty or Shy (active romance only), Charming or Stoic, Sarcastic or Genuine, Outgoing or Introverted, Courageous or Cowardly, Rude or Friendly, Cynicism or Idealism, Team worker or Solo.
Befriend, rival or butt heads with a cast of 8 different characters, each of them with their likes, dislikes, and ideals. Though romance is optional, you can expect Platonic friendships, Rivalries, Friends to lovers, Rivals to lovers, Shy romances, and Flirty romances + each RO has a special route that only unlocks if your character meets certain criteria. Additionally, there are three possible poly routes, a love triangle, and an additional route in which MC has shown interest in everyone.
Tumblr media
An in-depth description of the ROs
Chrissy Warner (she/her) • INTRO
your fifteen-year-old sister. Ever since your parents died, she’s become irate, a shut-in who refuses to talk to you—but insists on shutting you out. You don’t know her anymore.
Dante (he/him): THE FIEND • WRATH • INTRO
when you summoned a demon you never expected someone like Dante to appear before you. He’s… strange to say the least. Hot-headed and childish, Dante follows his every whim, living like he’s going to die tomorrow.
Tropes: idiots in love • muses • partners in crime
Lilith (she/they): THE SUCCUBUS • LUST • INTRO
a Succubus, Dante’s friend, and very relevant in the ranks of Inferno. Despite their monstrous nature, they have always been very kind to you. Lilith is nurturing and caring, and they have often said to find the concept of innocence fascinating.
Tropes: slow burn • pushing loved one away • mutual pining
Josh (he/him): THE BEST FRIEND • ENVY • INTRO
you met when you were children, and you’ve been best friends ever since. A very intelligent and perfectionist man, you have always known Josh to be immensely good-natured. That makes it all the more surprising when you discover the gigantic secret he’s always kept from you.
Tropes: childhood best friends to lovers • love triangle • opposites attract
Villanelle (she/her): THE WITCH • GLUTTONY • INTRO
the owner of the DuPont herbal shop and, apparently, a witch. You’ve known her for a couple years now. Villanelle has a bubbly and happy-go-lucky personality, always up to help around despite people usually finding her extremely strange.
Tropes: friends to lovers • girl next door • everyone knows but them
Victor (he/him): THE DEMON HUNTER • GREED • INTRO
the stoic demon Hunter, Nemesis—whom you know as Victor—joined your group reluctantly and is determined to fulfill his goal: finding his missing sister. Victor is dependable, strong, and calculating. His strong hatred towards anything non-human might be problematic, though.
Tropes: [censored] • love triangle • unrequited love (assumed)
Aliyah (she/her): THE GENIE • SLOTH • INTRO
the very bossy Genie who seems to know your sister, Aliyah has never been shy to hide her obvious hatred towards you and your species. She’s confident, ambitious, brutally honest, and incredibly powerful. You’re sure you can’t trust her.
Tropes: immortal • enemies to lovers • forced proximity
Nathan (he/him): THE ANGEL • PRIDE • INTRO
the Angel, Nathan takes nothing serious and seems to love to test everyone’s limits. Despite his divinity, you know Nathan is struggling to keep himself from becoming a Fallen Angel. This corruption has created a second personality in him, who goes by the name of Azriel.
Tropes: friends with benefits • double personality • forbidden love
Eden (she/he): THE DESCENDANT • DECEIT • INTRO
she is the descendant of the most powerful man who has ever lived: King Solomon. Eden’s closed-off, aloof, demeanor seems to be a result of nearly an entire life living in solitude. Given the power she holds, such a choice is more than understandable.
Tropes: (possible) soulmates • [censored] • living weapon
771 notes · View notes