#rick lipton
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vitaegratis · 1 year ago
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(in some case tentative) Flight of Icarus mental face claims: Al Munson, Ronnie Ecker, Paige Warner, Rick Lipton.
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tomhollandnet · 2 years ago
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anthonydrewett: HAPPY BURFDAY to both of these blokes. Xx.
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Reefer Rick, coming home from jail: Where the fuck did my boat go?
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queenimmadolla · 2 years ago
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the only acceptable fancast for Reefer Rick
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he’s like 26-27,
— high as hell all the time
─ in and out of prison cause he’s always in possession lmao
— I also feel like he just goes by the name Rick but it’s not his actually his name (he can’t be stupid enough to be a drug dealer who goes by his birth name in case he sells something bad to the wrong person, it’s like drug dealer 101) and it stuck plus it went it with Reefer. and he’s a pervy douchebag.
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BUT, he got to Eddie cause 1.) eddie needed decent income and didn’t give a fuck if it was “sketchy” 2.) he thinks Rick is a total dick but the guy’s got some good advice when it comes to life
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So, yeah. This is Reefer Rick.
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beachszn · 6 months ago
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band of brothers • behind the scenes
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wheneverfeasible · 6 months ago
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Description of “Reefer Rick” Lipton below break from Flight of Icarus if anyone is interested lol whether you consider it canon or otherwise
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who do y’all like picture reefer rick as?
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awaterfalls · 7 months ago
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heyyy!!
• SCOTT IN THE FIRST PIC????? SO CUTE!!!! A BABY!!!!
• Again the pacific cast bc why not
• Rick's face like "I knew it wasn't just one day"
Part 5/???
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greenfiend · 9 months ago
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pastlivesandpurplepuppets · 1 month ago
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(Aww...Malarkey, our sensitive little guy! ❤)
~ Larry Alexander
Bonus pic 'cause I just wanted pic of Rick as well
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munsontm · 2 years ago
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I've decided to make it canon that Eddie WAS in a casual relationship with Rick Lipton before he got carted off to jail. And Rick was a considerable few years older than Eddie, at least 5-6. Eddie didn't tell Wayne, nor did he tell his band babes, but they may well have been aware of it anyway since Eddie has never been very subtle. The thing between them ended as soon as Rick was taken away to avoid Eddie being associated with him and also potentially arrested. They've spoken a handful of times since then and concluded during their last conversation things could never have worked between them longterm...but maybe that wasn't true. it was just the situation that hindered things. they will never know.
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Also, using a young Tommy Lee for Rick's fc. Yup. Vibes
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acourtcfmuses · 1 year ago
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@edhellfire asked: well, i thought you might be a little angry. (Rick?)
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"Dude. I know I was in jail, but you ate all my food and ran up my bills." God, he knew there was a lot of things that would have been past their use by, but damn - his tinned beans and soups? "Don't get me wrong, happy you're ok, but you owe me beans. I know it was you because you're the only person who knew where my spare key was."
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cooliestghouliest · 1 year ago
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THE MIDDLE BEDROOM
PAIRING: established Billy/Reader relationship, bff!Eddie is a Peeping Tom
TAGS and C/W’s: this is basically just smut (which means 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), pining undertones, oral (f!receiving), Billy's filthy mouth, SPIT, Eddie's a pervert but Billy's kinda setting him up so really Eddie is just advantageous, m!masturbation, unprotected PiV
WORD COUNT: 3.4k+
A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. basically, i’m trying to revamp everything i’ve published in hopes that an inspiration bug crawls deep, deep inside me and just fucking explodes, leaving only creativity and motivation to replace all of my blood and oxygen. it’s almost 2024, who needs to bleed and breathe anyway??? please remember that likes are greatly appreciated, but comments and reblogs are what make the writer’s world go round. :-) <33
It happened at Rick Lipton's annual Halloween party. '86, baby.
There were many nameless faces wandering about the bungalow, all in varying states of sobriety. Eddie only recognized a handful of people, one of them being Billy Hargrove... and the other being you, Eddie's best friend, but also Hargrove's drop-dead, knock-the-fuck-out gorgeous girlfriend.
Eddie had overheard someone guess that you were dressed as a witch. Someone else guessed that you were dressed as Stevie Nicks. With a shrug, you'd answered, "Those are the same thing," like it was the most obvious certainty in the entire world.
You were in a sheer black off-the-shoulder maxi dress, the form-fitting fabric tight in all the right places. There was a long, gracious slit down the side that ran from hip to foot. When you moved in a certain way, Eddie could see that you were wearing black suede thigh-high boots, a little kitten heel clicking against the hardwood floors as you walked.
Right up to him.
"Hi, Eddie," you'd greeted with a smile, eyes wide and welcoming. You swirled the train of your dress a bit, swaying along to some Joni Mitchell song playing in the background. "Happy Halloween."
Eddie didn't get the chance to answer, though he was sure he'd have ended up stumbling over his words anyway, because you just looked so pretty tonight. He was only able to return the smile before Billy appeared beside you.
"Hey, man," Hargrove prompted, Eddie watching as the honey blonde rested lucky fingers on the small of your back. The other palm extended to clap Eddie on the shoulder a few times. "You bring it?"
"Yeah, it's just... uh..." Eddie dug his hand around in the front pockets of his jeans, then in the back pockets of his jeans, then eventually found what he was looking for in the pocket of his denim jacket, bypassing a broken button to reach for the little baggie in question.
As he was about to pull it out, Billy’s hand gripped his forearm, halting him. "Not here," Hargrove instructed. He stepped an inch closer to Eddie, voice lowering to just above a whisper. Eddie had to dip his head forward to try and hear the blonde over the music and commotion around them. "Come upstairs. Like fifteen minutes. Middle bedroom." At Eddie's confused expression (they were at a Halloween party thrown by Hawkins' most profitable drug dealer, for fuck's sake -- who the hell would care about a little coke?), Billy fashioned him a grin, stepping back. "Don't need everybody knowing my business and shit, ya know?"
Eddie guessed that was a decent enough explanation, so he shrugged the absurdity off. He'd always thought Billy was a little weird, anyway. And coming from Eddie Munson, the biggest fucking weirdo of all, that characterization spoke volumes.
After that, you and Billy disappeared. Eddie had followed the tail-end of your dress until you were lost in a sea of strangers, then decided to try and push the rest of the weed he had onto other partygoers, wanting to leave tonight with his current debt to Rick paid and his lunch box full of fresh goodies for the new month ahead.
It was exactly fifteen minutes later that Eddie began his ascent of the stairs to Rick's second floor. He weaved in and out of groping couples, stepped over sleeping Lettermen, and gave a tight-lipped smile to a group of girls that stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed right into him. He stepped to the side, giving them the right of way, before crossing the hallway to his destination: the middle bedroom.
The door was shut, so Eddie knocked. Waited a few seconds, then knocked again.
Still with no answer, he took a large step back, surveying the other doors around him to verify he hadn't gotten turned around and was in fact standing in front of the right room, which he was.
Eddie huffed a sigh. He glanced around the hallway again, checking to see if maybe Hargrove was just running late, but there was no blonde mullet in sight.
Figuring Billy must have been inside and was just... busy or something (actively ignoring him? suddenly gone deaf?), Eddie brought his hand to the knob to twist it and enter.
The room was mostly dark. Not exactly pitch black, thanks to a streetlight seen through the big bay window, but still dark enough that Eddie needed to blink rapidly several times to adjust his eyes to the new lighting.
His immediate thought was that Billy must have either forgotten to meet him up here or had ditched the party entirely and left the dealer packing with a now homeless dimebag of blow.
Off to the right, however, was a thick slab of pale-yellow light emanating from a partially closed door. It was the bathroom, which Eddie knew from sleeping in this very bedroom more than a handful of times since first meeting Rick Lipton a few years back.
And that’s when Eddie started to hear it.
Or, as he would soon come to find out, hear you.
He had at first mistaken the quick, soft breaths of air for sounds of pain or distress, which was why he'd begun inching towards the bathroom in the first place.
But now, standing in the shadow of the ajar door, he was able to peek inside. At the sight before him, Eddie felt his eyes widen, and a prickling warmth started to spread throughout his body.
Those were definitely not sounds of pain or distress.
Billy sat kneeled in front of where you were currently spread out on the bathroom counter. Your knees were hiked up towards your chest, your dress laying in a heap on the ground, and you were left only in a bright red bra. And those goddamn suede thigh-highs.
He should have walked away right then, he knew that. He was going to, really, but then you arched your back, your head falling lax behind you, and the fucking obscene moan you let out had Eddie biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he tasted blood.
How was he supposed to leave now?
He couldn't help himself.
You were just... you.
Thoughtful, generous, creative. You went out of your way to ensure no one ever felt judged or left out; you were known to drop everything without debate in order to help anyone who really needed it; you let him host Hellfire in your basement when the club needed a new location in a pinch, and even helped him plot twists in his campaigns.
Truly, Eddie had a very hard time seeing what you saw in that prick Billy Hargrove, but that was something to ponder at a later point. Because right now, Eddie was getting to see you in a position he'd only ever dreamed of seeing you in.
When would he ever get this chance again?
Eddie refused to think too deeply into this, deciding to pretend he didn't have a moral compass for a bit. It was probably bad. Likely even made him a pervert, but he'd been called much worse, so he figured he'd just add this one to the list now, too.
He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to face either one of you again, but his feet just weren't working when his brain tried to tell them to move, and now his cock was starting to fill out the confines of his jeans in a way that had him seeking the relief of the doorframe, his hips acting of their own accord, finding a slow, rocking rhythm.
Billy had his palms splayed out on either side of your inner thighs, holding your legs open. Eddie quickly grew irritated that he couldn't see exactly what the blonde's tongue was doing. He thought that if he couldn't be the one with his own face buried against you, he wanted to at least have an unobstructed, close-up view.
He wanted to see Hargrove's lips wet with your slick, wanted to watch them wrap around your aching clit and suck until you tried to push him away. If Eddie could, he'd hold your arms down while Billy devoured you, wanting you to feel so much pleasure it was borderline painful.
He was pulled out of his fantasy by the sound of Billy's voice, raspy and teasing. "Love when you give me this sloppy fucking cunt," he said, the words themselves demeaning but his tone singing nothing but praises. Billy lowered his head back down, giving you a few long, loud licks.
Eddie knew he himself could be theatrical, but Billy Hargrove was dramatic in his own ways, and it did certainly seem like the blonde loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Apparently, eating pussy and its associated noises fell under this umbrella of Hargrove Histrionics.
Billy pulled his head back to spit several times on your well-loved cunt. Eddie didn't dare to blink as the other man brought two fingers to spread your lips and spit again, this time with your hardened nub as target. Both him and Billy watched intently as the saliva dripped slowly down your slit, past your empty hole, and leaked off of you entirely to darken an already present wet spot on Hargrove's blue jeans.
And fuck, you loved it.
With each assault of Billy's spit, you let out faint little gasps (fucking cute, Eddie had thought), body jolting at the contact, your eyes fluttering open and shut as the moisture filled in every curve of your core.
"So fucking messy, aren't you?" Billy taunted, his free hand moving to palm at his clothed length. Eddie was relieved to see Hargrove finally begin to touch himself, honestly impressed at the self-control the blonde had to disregard his pleasure and focus solely on yours. "Makes it feel so good when I finally fuck this thick cock inside you," he continued, unzipping his jeans as he stood. "You think this pussy's ready to soak me?"
Eddie felt like his skin was boiling. He wished he could eliminate some layers. Or all layers, preferably.
You were staring earnestly up at your boyfriend, a desperate pout on your face as you nodded in vigor. "Please, Billy," you begged, and Eddie couldn't take it any longer. He needed to fist his cock raw, having had enough of this grinding against the wall bullshit.
At the same time Billy dropped his jeans, Eddie did the same, pulling himself out of his boxer briefs. He muffled a groan of relief by biting down on the knuckles of his free hand, his other wrapping around the girth of his dick and just squeezing. He didn’t want to give in before Billy had gotten inside you.
The blonde sure was taking his sweet fucking time though, only wetting his length by sliding himself repeatedly between your lips. You were whining, and Eddie could tell you were trying to angle your hips in such a way that it would trip Billy up and he would slip inside. Good girl, get that fucking cock, Eddie thought, impatient and eager to cum, but not wanting to do so without first catching a glimpse at what you looked like stuffed and fucked full.
"Hmm, I dunno," Billy provoked, tapping his cock against your cunt with loud slaps. "Feels really good just like this, baby. Maybe I'll use the outside to fuck myself instead, cum all over this pretty little pussy, make an even bigger mess. You want that?"
You and Eddie both shook your heads at the same time.
You gave a grumble of annoyance (more of like a testy whimper, really) and brought a hand up to slap playfully at Billy's chest. "Fuck me, Billy," you demanded, your voice throaty and yearning. You dropped the hand at his chest to circle his cock, wrapping delicate fingers around his own and helping to stroke. "Need it inside."
"Oh, you need it, greedy girl?" It appeared he was going to listen to you, much to yours and Eddie's respite, because he lined himself up against your hole with one hand, the other moving to wrap around the nape of your neck. "I didn't know that. I gotta give my girl what she needs then. Can't have anyone thinking I don't take care of you."
Finally -- finally -- Eddie watched as Billy took one thrust to bury his cock inside you completely, the blonde releasing a loud, lewd moan. Eddie gave his own throbbing, sweat-slick length the same treatment, fucking into his fist from tip to base until he felt his tightening balls press against his twitching fingers.
You looked better stretched open than Eddie could have ever imagined -- a natural flush glowed on your skin, your bottom lip tugged tight between your upper teeth, your brows furrowed deep.
Your eyes rolled back as Billy began to move, a satisfied moan escaping your lips at the pace he was setting. The sound, contented yet desperate, was music to Eddie's ears. He wanted to record it and hear it on loop -- as a wake-up call, an afternoon pick-me-up, a bedtime lullaby.
Your hands moved to rest on either side of the surface of the sink below you, supporting your weight as Billy rocked into you with long, languid thrusts. Eddie tried to match Hargrove's pace with the stroke of his hand, envisioning it was his own cock giving you exactly what you needed.
You must have felt fucking good to be buried deep inside of, because Billy, always with something to say, was awfully quiet now.
He watched the other man's face through the reflection in the mirror, saw as Billy's baby blues fervently took in the sight underneath him, knowing he himself would be donning the same expression if positions were switched. Eddie knew Hargrove was admiring your perfect tits bouncing with the force of each thrust, knew he was lost in the dissipated doe-eyes that stared back up at him like he hung the fucking moon, when in reality he was just feeding your cunt some very well-deserved cock.
When your mouth dropped open unprompted, your pink tongue sticking out as far as it could go, that was the beginning of the end for Eddie. Both men knew exactly what you were asking for. Hargrove smirked approvingly at the sight before him, and he slowed the speed of his hips for better accuracy. He gathered as much saliva in his mouth as he could before leaning over you, parting his lips and letting gravity do its job.
Once your mouth was filled, Billy brought a hand to your jaw, forcing it shut. "Don't swallow," he instructed, his thrusts no longer slow and unhurried, but now posthaste and unrelenting.
Eddie could feel the familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, alerting him that his release was maybe a minute away. He fleetingly realized that he was going to have to very quickly clean his upcoming mess and get the hell out of the room before he was caught, but his attention was reeled back in when he heard a series of deep, breathless grunts.
"Okay, shit... spit it out now, baby," Billy was muttering, speech rushed, his head dipped to stare unwaveringly at where your bodies connected. "Oh fuck, spit on my fucking cock."
Eddie watched as you leaned yourself forward, angling your head down to release the spit you'd been holding in from your mouth, just adding to the noisy wetness between your legs.
And that did it. The visual — someone as soft and sweet as you doing something so filthy — had Eddie's toes curling in on themselves in his gym shoes, his hand pulsating around his cock to mimic a clenching cunt as he fucked himself into it. His release spilled out over his fist, dampening the ground below him and the bathroom doorframe. He saw stars.
Billy had followed Eddie right off the brink, muttering praises and obscenities interchangeably as you both came down from your highs. "Listen so well, dirty fucking girl. Always make me cum so hard, fuck, this pussy's so fucking full of me right now."
The sound of the quiet giggles urged out of you by Billy's tickling kisses on your neck were what brought Eddie back to the present reality. He wasn't back at home watching the hottest fucking porno he'd ever seen -- no, he was actually standing in a dimly lit bedroom, covered in his own cum, having just spied on his best friend while she got railed by her boyfriend.
Shit.
Eddie's moral compass came back with a vengeance. He cringed as he rubbed his sticky fingers on the inside of his band tee to clean them, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of crusty white as he made his getaway. He found a towel in a laundry basket and wiped away any remnants of his release from the wall and floor, then tossed it back into the hamper.
Not even able to glance back into the bathroom, his skin now heated from shame and embarrassment rather than arousal, Eddie buttoned up his jeans and hurried out of the room, ready to try and forget that all of that just happened.
About ten minutes later, he was perched against his van about a block from Rick's, where he'd parked. He was smoking a cigarette, having finally began to cool off and calm down. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could convince himself this was all a really vivid hallucination, and maybe he'd be able to compartmentalize his moment of perversion that way.
He just needed to stay away from the two of you for a little while.
But then, because of course...
"Munson!"
Eddie quietly groaned, taking a deep drag off his cigarette to quell his already rapidly growing nerves from just the sound of the other man's voice alone. He turned to face Billy, plastering what he hoped was an easygoing grin on his face.
"Hey, man," Eddie greeted, his voice surprisingly steady.
Billy held his hands up in a 'What the fuck?' kind of way, brows furrowed. "Thought we had a plan," the blonde replied, stopping just a foot away from the tall metalhead. One side of Hargrove's mouth lifted. He looked predatory. Eddie fought back a hard swallow. "Did you even come upstairs?"
"What..." Eddie's brain went blank at the question. Or was it an accusation? It definitely sounded like one, but Billy didn't seem mad. The blonde was just staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.
"Y'know," Billy continued. "Because I told you to meet me in the middle bedroom? For the coke?" What had started as the slight of a smirk had turned into a full-blown grin on Hargrove's face. "You good, Munson? Lookin' a little spooked.”
To this, Eddie sobered his expression, shaking his head. "No, just like, busy night, that's all," Eddie answered lamely. Maybe Billy really didn't know. Maybe Eddie was just hyper-paranoid about having been caught that he was reading too deeply into this. After all, wouldn't Hargrove have been pissed to find out he'd been spying? Wouldn't he already have Eddie pinned against the van, spewing threats? "Lotsa deals. Kinda forgot about yours, my bad. Here, lemme get it..."
Eddie began digging around in his pockets, having forgotten again where the coke was. He blamed the alarms of anxiety going off in his brain (thoughts like fuck, he probably knows, which means she knows, and now she's gonna fucking hate me plaguing him).
But Billy said, "Don't worry about it, I'm good. Got my energy hit a little bit ago." The blonde then looked like he had remembered something, and began looking in his own pockets, "Shit, actually. Ya know what? I have something for you."
Eddie was sure the look of confusion on his face was readable. This whole night was turning out to be a fucking fever dream. He didn't think anything else could happen to make it any more surreal.
And then Billy was reaching his hand out to give Eddie something, that I-know-something-you-don't smirk present again, and Eddie took it without looking. He just wanted Billy to walk away so he could go crawl into the back of his van and smoke himself stupid to avoid any and all realizations and repercussions.
"See you ‘round," were Billy's parting words and Eddie just nodded dumbly, mute, and watched him go.
Once Hargrove was out of sight, Eddie opened his hand. At first, it just looked like an unassuming wad of fabric, maybe a sock or something, small compared to the size of his palm.
Eddie unraveled it, holding it out in front of him, and then very quickly tossed it inside his open passenger window, eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen what Billy Hargrove had just given him —
The matching pair of panties to your bright red bra.
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tomhollandnet · 2 years ago
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benjperkins: happybirthdaylads #radiocity #thecrowdedroom #birthdaytwins #2ofthebest
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penny00dreadful · 1 year ago
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Before He Cheats
AO3
“Munson Home for the Recently Deceased, you stab ‘em we slab ‘em. How may I direct your call?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a few seconds before a light chuckle crackled through the speaker.
“Is that really how you answer the phone?”
Eddie smiled to himself. “Got you to laugh didn’t it?”
“Suppose.”
“Plus, no one calls the landline anymore unless they’re trying to sell something. You trying to sell me something?”
“No. No, I uh… I’m looking for an Eddie Munson?”
“Only an Eddie Munson? Only one? What a terrible fate. Well you’re in luck, my good sir. This is he. What can I do you for?”
The voice on the end of the line gave a light laugh once again but went silent almost immediately after. 
Eddie stared at the wall in his apartment, waiting for something to happen. In the quiet he could hear the guy letting out little nervous breaths before one big inhale.
“I um. I’m sorry to have to tell you like this, I’d prefer to do it face to face but I don’t know where you live and you probably wouldn’t even want me at your house afterwards and I did find you on social media but it’s not something I wanted to do in DM’s, you deserve better than that-”
“Okay, hold on, slow down.” Eddie tried to ignore the panic starting to kick around in his heart. “Is someone dead? Is someone injured?”
“No! No, Jesus, I’m sorry. I told Robin that I’d be terrible at this but I couldn’t just let it go on without saying anything-”
“You haven’t really said anything. You’re just rambling.”
“Right. Sorry. Again, blame Robin. I’m around her too much. But… okay. Do you know Rick Lipton?”
Eddie felt the panic leave him, replaced only by irritation as he sighed through his nose. “What did he do now?”
“He… um. I’m sorry to ask this but are you his partner? Like, romantic partner?”
Eddie scowled. “And if I am?”
There was movement against the line, almost as if the other guy was nodding. 
“Shit.” He muttered before picking back up in volume again. “Listen, I didn’t know. He told me he was single and I only found out because Robin lives in the same building as you and she saw him with you and asked the neighbours and they said you’d been a thing for like two years and you have to believe me if I’d known I wouldn’t have touched him, I don’t fuck around with cheaters-”
“How long?”
Eddie had expected to feel betrayal or sadness, devastation or heartbreak and they were there. 
They were just lost under a tidal wave of anger and indignation. He was even surprised at himself that he didn’t feel more caught off guard. 
Rick had never cheated before (that Eddie was aware of) but he had always had a wandering eye and a few off-colour jokes about 'going to find someone more his speed’. 
They’d never really felt all that funny.
Maybe it was because their relationship had felt dead for the last few months. 
They barely talked, they just existed around each other. The sex had all but dried up as well and whenever they did have it, it was completely impersonal. Get in, get out, move back to separate parts of the apartment if either of them even bothered to stay over. 
More often than not one of them would make a quick exit back to their home.
Eddie had been thinking a breakup was on the horizon for a while. 
But that was no excuse to cheat. 
At least have the fucking decency to end the relationship first before going out and chasing tail. 
“Um, like four or five weeks." The guy on the phone muttered, clearly ashamed. "I’m so sorry Eddie, I swear to god if I knew I would never… I have- I have proof if you need it.”
“If it’s a sex tape I don’t think I want to see it.” Eddie was trying really hard to maintain his calm and not snap through the phone. 
If what the guy was saying was true, then he was an innocent party in this.
Didn’t make it hurt any fucking less though.
Didn’t make him any less pissed.
“If- no it’s not a sex tape.” The voice sounded scandalised. “Fucking hell, do people actually do that?”
“Yes.”
There was a pause, as though the guy was waiting for Eddie to continue but Eddie just let it hang in the air. He wasn’t ashamed. 
But he was definitely going to have to purge those files now.
“Okay well… It's just a photo. I posted it to my insta a week ago but he was really weird about it being up, which in hindsight makes a lot of sense, so I took it down.” He said, quiet and sad. “I can send it to you if you want.”
Eddie pursed his lips. 
“Please hold.”
He unceremoniously dropped the phone with a clatter, leaving it dangling from the cord, bouncing against the wall and probably blowing the guy’s ear out. 
Maybe in the morning Eddie would feel a little bad about that, but for now it just felt very satisfying. 
He rifled around in his bedsheets for his phone before making his way back to the landline. 
“Still there?”
“Yes. Ow, by the way.”
Eddie just shrugged, well aware the guy couldn’t see him but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood. 
“Send it on.”
Only a moment later his phone pinged with a notification and Eddie opened the photo.
Well. 
Shit. 
There was Rick, in amongst a crowd at some nightclub, plastered to the side of some pretty boy who looked like he had a regular workout routine. 
Ugh.
Eddie couldn’t handle gym bunnies, the amount they could bench or whatever was all they ever talked about. But this must be the guy on the other end of the phone. 
@King.Steve.Of.House.Hair
Rick had King Steve’s earlobe in between his teeth and from the angle of the selfie Eddie could see his hands were wandering.
It looked like some kind of Halloween night, if the teeny tiny little sailor outfit was anything to go by.
God damn.
But even so, Eddie still wanted to be sure that what he was seeing was… well. What he was seeing. 
“Steve, is it?”
“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry, I didn’t realise I hadn’t given you my name yet.” Steve let out a nervous laugh, like he was expecting Eddie to jump through the phone and strangle him.
Eddie was fit to strangle someone but Steve wasn’t in his crosshairs.
“Don’t worry about it. Tell me, what does Rick have tattooed on his ass?”
“Uh…” Steve paused. “He doesn’t have a tattoo on his ass? Not that I’ve seen anyway. But I can tell you he does have his taint pierced. For some fucking reason.”
Eddie gave a quiet laugh at that, despite the monumentally fucked up situation and the final cracking piece of his heart breaking away. Rick had that piercing by the time Eddie had met him. He insisted he’d gotten it because it was sexy. Eddie was pretty sure he’d just lost a bet.
Eddie was no stranger to intimate piercings himself. He had his frenum done a while back. 
That one he’d definitely done because it felt sexy.
He looked back down at his phone, idly flipping through Steve’s profile and all of his other photos. 
He probably shouldn’t be thinking about how hot Steve was, how it was juxtaposed with a soft cuteness that almost felt like it didn’t belong to someone with such broad shoulders and defined arms. 
He hated himself for thinking about Steve’s attractiveness. 
It felt wrong.
Even though he was pretty much single now.
Even if Rick didn’t know it yet. 
But fuck him. 
He’d find out.
One way or the other.
And Eddie was nothing if not a drama queen.
But he wouldn’t do anything tonight.
No tonight he would just… hurt.
And smoke.
A lot.
“Eddie?” Steve’s voice came through to him. “You okay?”
Eddie swallowed, finding it a little more difficult than he expected it to be and realised he’d just been staring down at his phone in silence. 
The screen had gone black.
“Yeah.” He answered, his voice thick. “I’m fine.”
Steve hummed. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
Eddie laughed. It was wet and sniffly and vulnerable and horrible. “What are you gonna do from over the phone far away… wherever you are?”
“I dunno. I could just… talk to you I guess? Help you plot Rick's murder?”
Eddie laughed again, a little brighter this time. "Yeah, that could be good. But if I'm plotting murder I want to be a little more comfortable." He unlocked his phone and hit the follow button on Steve’s account. “This conversation requires lounging, not standing by the landline.”
“Oh-”
“How do you feel about a video call?”
A notification popped up on his phone, letting him know Steve had followed him back.
“A video call is fine.”
“Great.” Eddie paused. He wasn’t even sure how to end this call with the guy his boyfriend of two years had been cheating on him with and who he’d just asked if he wanted to video call so Eddie could smoke his feelings away. 
He just didn’t want to feel alone right now. 
He could have called Chrissy or one of the boys to come hang out with him but that would require explaining everything over again and he really didn’t want to do that right now. 
Before he could think much more on it Eddie said a quick “Okay bye,” and hung up.
Steve knew the story and Steve had been wronged too and maybe they could just be mad and sad together. 
He unlocked his phone again as he walked back into his bedroom and hit the video call button, not even bothering to turn his light on, leaving himself and his room shrouded in darkness. He propped his phone up on his desk, angled towards the window where he sat on the sil and started to roll, using the streetlights streaming in the window to see.
Steve picked up only a moment later and Eddie got his first good look at the guy live in action and not through a photo online.
He was sitting at what looked like a kitchen table fully lit by the overhead lights, a pair of wire framed glasses perched on his nose and his hair messy and dishevelled, like he’d been stressfully running his hands through it, which he probably had been. 
Eddie didn’t know how stressed he would be if he had to make a call to someone to tell them their long term partner had been cheating.
He was leaning forward, elbows on the table in a cosy yellow sweater with a slight worry between his eyebrows. 
He looked so soft. 
Nothing at all like the nautical sea queen look he’d been giving in those photos. He looked comfortable and gentle and a little worried.
“Eddie?”
“Mm-hm?” He hummed, bringing the joint to his mouth and lighting it up before pushing open the window a little more and exhaling out into the dark rainfall outside.
“You okay?”
He shrugged. “I will be.”
“I’m not asking about whether you will be, I‘m asking about now.”
Eddie looked over and watched Steve as Steve watched him through the screen.
“Alright, then no. I’m not okay.” He took another drag. “I’m fucking pissed. I’m sad, I’m upset, I’m hurt, I’m angry, I’m disappointed and I don’t know if all of that is directed more at him for doing this to me or me for not expecting it.”
“How were you supposed to expect it?” Steve shook his head in disbelief. “No one should have to expect to be cheated on.”
“Dunno.” Eddie shrugged, looking back out the window. “Relationship was dying anyway.”
“Okay, and? That doesn’t make cheating okay.”
“Suppose not.”
“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. For my part in it.”
Eddie glanced back over, taking in the downward tilt of Steve’s mouth and his big sad eyes.
“S’not your fault. You were wronged too.”
“I guess, but…” Steve bit his lip and looked up from the screen, casting his eyes around his kitchen like something was going to pop out and answer whatever question was running through his head. 
Eddie waited. The guy had been very gracious so far and he seemed to genuinely feel bad for all the mess he’d been wrapped up in. 
“I…” Steve continued. “I know how this thing usually goes. You find out you’ve been cheated on and you still love your partner so you tend to focus all your anger towards the person they cheated with rather than the person who actually wronged you.” He looked down, fiddling with some kind of flash card on the table in front of him.
“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” Eddie stubbed his joint out, happy enough with his current buzz. He was sufficiently mellowed, he hadn’t cried yet though that would probably come once he was in bed, but his anger had simmered down to a level where he didn’t feel like putting his fist through a wall but still angry enough to plot.
“I am, I guess.”
Eddie nodded. “This happened to you before?” 
That was probably rude. His filter malfunctioned at the best of times but when he smoked it was all but gone.
“Yeah.” Steve stared down at the cards in his hands. “My mom had to put up with my dad’s infidelity a lot. And my ex-girlfriend cheated on me a while back.” Steve paused before taking a deep breath. “Rick was actually my first attempt to get back into the dating world so…”
“So we can both be sad and angry together.”
“Yeah.” Steve smiled and Eddie stood up, plucking his phone from his desk and settling it on his bedside table, switching his lamp on and throwing himself face down on his bed, probably barely visible to Steve.
“We can be sad and angry together.”
Eddie glanced up. Now that he was closer to his phone, he could better see exactly what Steve was fiddling with, he could read some of the text on the card.
“Stevie.” Eddie sat up, moving closer to the phone and unable to stop the smirk running over his face. Steve’s eyes snapped up towards him. “Did you write out flash cards for when you called me?”
Steve’s eyes widened before he unceremoniously swept all the cards off the table in front of him, his cheeks turning a terrific shade of red and he leaned his face on his hand, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 
“No.”
It was adorable. Incredibly dorky and adorable.
Eddie laughed, full on braying belly laughs, collapsing backwards onto his bed. When he peeked back up to look at his phone through his giggles, Steve’s face was somehow even redder. 
“Oh my god.” Eddie breathed. “That’s darling.”
“Shut up.”
“No, no. It’s really very sweet.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Steve rolled his eyes but was still smiling, still had a blush lighting up his cheeks.
Eddie settled himself back against his headboard. “Actually, listen, let me ask you something.”
“Okay?”
“Does Rick know? Does he know that you know? Or that you told me?”
“No.” Steve answered, finally relaxing his fake nonchalance into real relaxation, folding his hands on the table and propping his chin up on them. “I figured if anyone had the right to rip his balls off it would be you.”
Eddie nodded. 
That he could understand. 
“I get that, but there’ll be no ball ripping from where I stand. No, I want to hit him where it hurts.”
“Woulda hurt me plenty.”
“Oh, I’m sure. But the only thing Rick loves more than his own balls is his car.”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, he’s like, obsessed with that thing. It’s weird. It’s not even that nice of a car.”
“I’d love to say he has bad taste but considering he picked the both of us, I’m pretty sure his tastes are actually immaculate.”
“Just his decisions are bad.”
“Exactly.”
“Well.” Steve sighed. “I’d love to help any way I can. I hate that I was involved in this, in what he did to you.”
“To us, Stevie. To us.”
“Right, so what’s the plan then?”
“When are you due to see him next?”
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Eddie pulled his van into the parking lot of the bar. It was halfway across town and a place that he never frequented if he could help it. Rick liked it though, always had. Eddie just liked other places around town more.
But it could be cute, he supposed. A small little country and sports type place that had a rainbow flag behind the bar and a small number of regulars who, according to Steve, wouldn’t do anything unless you got between them and their drink. 
He knew that Steve was inside with Rick, playing up the flirty angle and acting tipsier than he actually was to put him at ease.
Steve had mentioned one of his signature moves involved pool, bending over the table and wiggling a little bit to keep the attention on him. Pulling out a little pout whenever he missed a shot or asking for help to line up his cue.
Eddie would be more upset by the fact that he was missing the sight of it if he didn't know he'd have the opportunity to see it himself at some point in the future.
They had talked for so long that first night, long enough that the sun was starting to come up by the time they'd both dragged themselves away from their phones to sleep.
They’d talked about their families, their friends, what they were doing in life right now as opposed to what they had hoped they would be doing when they were teenagers. They talked about their school selves and their dating lives and as the conversation wore on Eddie found himself thinking again and again about how long it had been since it had felt so easy to talk to someone like that.
It had been a very long time since Rick had put any effort into getting to know him as he grew through their two years together, like he expected Eddie to stay the same person as he was at the start of the relationship.
After that first night where they’d figured out their master plan, he and Steve had just… kept talking. Throughout the rest of the week up until tonight, they were in almost constant contact, only really taking a break to sleep and work.
Eddie felt connected to Steve and in some roundabout way he was thankful to Rick for bringing him into his life.
He’d even met Robin in passing one day, living two floors below him, holding the door open for him as he tried to wrestle with grocery bags. 
She was so weird. He kind of loved her the second she opened her mouth. Honest, but with the sharpest tongue he’d ever met on a person. 
She had knocked on his apartment door later that evening to tell him Steve was calling over to visit and asking if he wanted to come around to meet him. 
Steve had apparently delegated the asking to her because he was too nervous to do it himself.
Again, adorable.
Steve was somehow even sweeter and even saltier in person than he was over the phone and Eddie tried hard, he tried really hard not to look too much or let his fucking horomones run away with him but Jesus. H. Christ it was difficult. 
The sweetness of his soft sweaters and polos, his gentle smiles and understanding words matched with his salty mean girl attitude that would slip out every so often and the bitchiest of eye rolls that made Eddie’s heart jump.
Eddie was also trying to feel bad about what was happening but honestly, he was losing reasons to care that much.
He hadn’t texted or called Rick once in the last week and Rick himself had never reached out which all at once made Eddie realise he was the primary communicator in the relationship and it hadn’t been reciprocated in a long, long time. 
Adding onto that was the knowledge that Rick was still fucking cheating on him and was in regular contact with Steve left Eddie only half heartedly feeling bad.
He and Steve would go over the screenshots of the conversation together every night and every night Eddie found it harder and harder to hang up the phone.
He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same way. 
They kept just catching each other staring. Or smiling or, pulling back from touching too much and he was almost sure that as soon as Rick was out of the picture for the both of them, something was going to blossom.
Even now, with Steve inside, flirting up a storm with Eddie’s ex-boyfriend who didn’t know he was an ex yet, they would be ending the night together. 
Robin was waiting back at her apartment with an alibi ready if Eddie needed it though he suspected he wouldn’t.
Neither he nor Rick had a great track record with the police and it would be more trouble than it was worth to get them involved.
Speaking of, Eddie spotted Rick’s car, some souped up four wheel drive monstrosity of small dick syndrome sitting in the shadows and away from the cameras of the bar where Steve had convinced him to park with a suggestion of something happening in those shadows later on. 
He hopped out of his van and threw open the back doors, grabbing his bag of goodies before sidling around Rick’s car to wait.
When the chords of some Shania Twain number started to leak through the walls, the signal he’d been waiting for, the sound loud enough to drown out what Eddie would be doing, he dropped his bag to the floor.
Curling his keys into his fingers and with almost a skip in his step Eddie began to carve a stripe through the immaculate and expensive paint work. Working his way around to the drivers side, he lifted the key up before bringing it back down.
With a little bit of sickening glee, he hacked the word CHEATER into the side of the car, the side that would be immediately visible from the bar door and the side Rick would have to see every time he wanted to get in and get out of the driver's seat.
At least until he paid a bomb to get it fixed.
Eddie had connections in this town. Working as a mechanic here for years would do wonderful things to extend this pain. 
Rick knew fuck all about cars. 
Tucking his keys back into his pocket, he sidled back around to his duffel bag, unzipping it and pulling out his Stanley blade.
Unsheathing it, he gripped it tight in his hand and punched it down into the nearest tyre, listening with satisfaction as the thing slowly deflated before moving onto the other three.
A second Shania song had started up. 
He could hear Steve crooning out from inside, getting louder and Eddie knew he was running out of time. 
He pulled Steve’s baseball bat from the duffle and gave it a little twirl, the same one he’d seen Steve do when he’d first handed it off and he had tried so hard not to be attracted to it. 
He’d failed miserably. 
Maybe Eddie could deal with a gym bunny if that gym bunny was Steve.
With an almighty swing, he brought the bat down, shattering one of the headlights with an almighty crash that wasn’t quite drowned out by the karaoke inside.
Rearing back Eddie swung again, smashing the other headlight and while the music didn’t cut off, he could clearly hear Steve inside calling out for Rick to “Wait!”
Okay, only a few seconds left.
Pulling the bat back and letting the anger and betrayal and indignation flow through him, he brought the bat down hard into the windshield where it embedded itself, the spider cracks of the tempered glass making the thing practically opaque.
The bat was fucking stuck.
Eddie knew that if he was able to pull hard enough he would be able to release the whole windshield from the car but he didn’t even have the strength in him to budge the bat.
“What the fuck?!”
Eddie slowly released his hands from the bat and turned, looking at Rick standing in the doorway of the bar, his mouth hanging wide open in shock, unable to believe what he was seeing. Steve was standing just behind him, with one hand over Rick’s chest.
To anyone else it would look like a comforting gesture, maybe. A show of support. 
But Eddie could tell the hand was there to hold Rick back if he decided to lunge. 
Both Steve and Rick dragged their gaze over the flat tyres, the word carved into the side, the bat stuck in the windshield.
“Hey sweetheart.” Eddie called across the distance, feeling comfortable enough to turn his back to pick up his bag, trusting Steve to at least shout if Rick was about to tackle him.
“Eddie,” Rick breathed, still open-mouthed somehow. “What in the god damned hell has gotten into you?!”
“I wasn’t talking to you.” He slung the bag over his shoulder and held his hand out.
Steve patted Rick twice on the chest and stepped out from behind him. 
Rick watched him walk away looking even more bewildered than before.
With one hand Steve took Eddie’s and with the other he grabbed the bat, wiggling it a few times before pulling it free. 
They broke apart as they reached Eddie’s van, Steve climbing into the passenger seat and Eddie throwing his bag in the back before starting up the van from his position in the driver's seat.
He leaned over Steve to shout out of the window, “Have a nice life, asshole!”
As the van tore out of the lot, Steve stretched both hands out of the window, two middle fingers extended until Rick, still frozen on the spot, was out of sight.
When he pulled himself back inside, Eddie saw him glance his way, a huge grin on his face.
Eddie had a smile to match, whooping into the night as they sped down the road.
AO3
@geekymagicalpotato
Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for her magnificent beta work and to the STWG for their motivation.
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dragonmama76 · 1 year ago
Text
Beginnings Part 2
read Part One, and Interlude first. Part 3 is done!.
Eddie was the opposite of calm.  He was terrified well beyond rational thought and he had one intention.  Survive. By any means necessary.  When he jumped out of the boat and pressed the edge of the broken bottle against his attacker’s throat nothing could have stopped him.  Except.  “Steve, this is Steve!”  Steve.  Steve who he had wronged.  Steve who he had bullied.  Steve with the perfect life that maybe wasn’t so perfect.  And he stopped.  
************
Eddie’s cup runneth over.  His public display of dominance had been more than enough to establish a reputation that he was not to be fucked with.  He didn’t even need to torment Steve to keep the memory alive, but Eddie continued his menacing glances and subtle jabs nonetheless. Because he could.  Because it was fun.  It was that feeling you get when you’re five years old and you’ve just completed some kick ass move like jumping off the swing at it’s zenith and you shout to your parents, “Look at me!  Look at me!”  His own parents had never looked.  They had never been there to begin with.  But now.  Now everyone was looking at what he had done and it felt so fucking good.  He couldn’t be too obvious since the basketball team had rallied around Steve, keeping him out of bounds most of the time, but he still found sly little opportunities to flash his knife or murmur a not so subtle threat when Steve came near.  It was enough to keep his high feeling fresh.
By the time the school year was over, even local drug dealer Rick Lipton had heard of him.  When Eddie decided that manual labor didn’t fit his new image, he proposed they begin a business relationship and Rick was quick to agree.  He knew that Eddie could handle himself if there was trouble and having a dealer embedded in the high school made sense.  Eddie spent the next two years dealing at school and weekend parties and while he wasn’t exactly accepted, no one messed with him and he only rarely had to display his feral nature to the jocks that ran the school.   In the meantime, he convinced the theater teacher to sponsor an after school club for his gang of nerds.  Mr. Hughes didn’t know what Dungeons & Dragons was, exactly, but it felt dramatic and he was happy to oblige.  If only Eddie put as much energy into his academic responsibilities as he had done with his social life he would have been out of High School in a quick minute.  But he was too busy enjoying the life he created for himself to consider the consequences.
Senior year, Steve pulled up to the school in his BMW feeling pretty great for the first time in his high school career. He had an amazing girlfriend, basketball was starting soon, and best of all there would be no more run-ins with Munson.   It wasn’t that he was scared of him, exactly.  After that day in the cafeteria Freshman year Munson had backed off for the most part.  Sure he still glared at him and whispered threats and flashed his stupid knife, but for the most part Steve was able to avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist.  It helped that they never had any classes together.  And while the freak had managed to be at every house party Steve attended, he preferred alcohol over drugs anyway so they had zero interaction. And beyond that, Steve now knew there were much scarier things in the world than a high school kid with a knife.  No, he wasn’t afraid, it was just…a lot.  Munson was obviously still a live wire waiting to strike and Steve had to be vigilant.  He had put up walls and created a persona of his own to balance out the bully that still dogged him and it took a lot of effort to mask his more vulnerable, sensitive side.  Most of his energy went to creating the character of King Steve that everyone now expected and that he hated..  He had done things he regretted, that shit show with Jonathan Byers for example, and he had willingly lost friends in the process, good riddance to Tommy H. and Carol, but he was trying to scale back the arrogant jock attitude and be more himself, especially with Nancy.
His guard was so low that when he sauntered into his first class ready to take on the world Steve was completely blindsided when the freak, himself, pushed past him to grab a seat in the back.  Steve could feel the pinpricks of tears forming.  He couldn’t do this.  Not again.  Not when he thought he was finally free.  He bolted from the room and straight into the bathroom before anyone could really register he was gone.  Shit.  Shit shit shit.  He was pretty sure someone up there hated him these days.  He had fought an other-worldly creature no problem, but it was still Eddie Munson who had the power to make him run.  This year was officially going to suck.
Eddie watched Steve run from the classroom and grinned.  He still had it, baby.  Maybe his second senior year would actually be fun.
Steve’s senior year was anything but fun.   Steve graduated.  His parents didn’t come.  His ex-girlfriend didn’t come.  A bunch of middle school kids came and cheered for him and that was nice, but also kind of embarrassing.  This was apparently his life now.  The brightspot?  Eddie Munson’s name wasn’t called.  Not that Steve was listening for it.  Eddie Munson could go to hell as far as he was concerned.  But he couldn’t help but feel a little relieved not to have to share this day with him.
Eddie watched from under the bleachers as Steve Harrington received his diploma along with the rest of his class.  Whatever.  Fuck him and his perfect hair and his perfect life.
Eddie was definitely pissed to be doing Senior year for the third time, but there were still moments of joy like when he gathered new freshman sheepies.  His original group of freshmen had finally graduated without him, but he still had Jeff, Frank, and Gareth and now he was ready to induct a new crew.  They were a little wary, and if he didn’t know better he’d say they looked kind of shellshocked, sort of like some of Uncle Wayne’s friends who had been to ‘Nam.  With Eddie’s outlandish personality and dramatic welcome they opened up eventually.  He liked the curly hair kid, Dustin, the best.  God that kid never shut up, though which, depending on the topic, could be annoying.
Right now Eddie was extra annoyed because the topic he wouldn’t shut up about was Steve Fucking Harrington.  Was that guy going to haunt him for the rest of his life?  
“Eddie, you’d like Steve if you knew him.  I asked him and he was kind of weird about it, but he says he didn’t really get to know you in high school and I think that’s a shame because he was bullied really badly and I bet you could have helped him and protected him.”
“What are you talking about, kid?  King Steve was never bullied a day in his life.” Eddie scoffed.
“No, he was.” Lucas nodded sagely.  “He said that the only reason it didn’t totally destroy him was that he had the basketball team on his side.  That’s one of the reasons I’m doing basketball.  You got to have people on your side.  That’s what Steve says.”
“Steve says,” Eddie mimicked, “Jocks can’t be bullied, they ARE the bullies.”
“That’s not true.  I’m not a bully.”  Lucas muttered.
“Yeah, well you’re more nerd than jock.” 
“Steve’s a nerd too.” Dustin insisted, “He just doesn’t show it, but he watches Star Wars with me all the time and he has a huge collection of Spiderman comics stashed in his bedroom.  Even Robin calls him a dingus.  Do you know Robin?  I think they should date but she says they are platonic with a capital P.  I think that’s crap with a capital C. They’ll get their shit together eventually.”
“I….don’t know if I know Robin?”  Eddie’s head is starting to spin.  “So who bullied King Steve?”
“He won’t say, but it started freshman year.  He gave us a big talk before school started about being safe and staying in a group.  I guess the kid, like, followed him around and would push him and stuff.  And one time he even pulled a knife on him.  That’s crazy right?  He said he was afraid to go to school for all of freshman year.  It’s awful because Steve had, well he wouldn’t want me to say, but he doesn’t have great parents so home sucked and school sucked.  I wish you guys had been friends. And then maybe he could have been in Hellfire or something.  He’s great with a bat and I bet his character…”
Eddie couldn’t listen anymore. His brain was on overload.  Had he really done all that to Steve?  Actually caused him pain?  
Well.  Fuck.
“Roooobin,” Steve whined, “Are you even listening to me?”  They were behind the counter at Family Video rewinding tapes while they waited for even one customer to come in to relieve their boredom.
“I AM listening, Steve,” she reasoned, “But I think you’re letting your jockish prejudices get in the way of rational thought.  Hellfire is just a group of nerds who role play and I know Eddie can look all scary and intimidating, but he’s totally not a bad guy.  We were in band together last year and he’s honestly just a big goofball.  Yeah, he’s loud and okay, a drug dealer, but I know for sure that he doesn’t sell to underclassmen so you don’t have to worry about that.  The kids are fine with him.”
“You don’t know him like I do.”  Steve glowered, “And…well, I’m afraid that if he knows the kids are associated with me that he’ll, like, take it out on them.”
“Why?  What did you do to him?” Robin glared and Steve knew she thought there was some bullshit King Steve incident in their past and all of a sudden it was too much.  He couldn’t bring himself to tell her how weak he had been, but also this was ROBIN and he couldn’t stand the idea that she thought of him that way.
“NOTHING!” he burst out, “I did NOTHING to him EVER.” And suddenly he couldn’t breathe.  Tears pooled in his eyes and it felt like something was going to burst out of his chest, like that gross Sigourney Weaver film Robin had made him watch.  He sank to his knees and pressed his hands to his eyes.  
“Okay.  You’re okay, Steve.” Robin hunched over him.  She placed a firm hand on his chest, “I've got you.  Breathe with me.  In and out.  You’re safe.  I’m here and you’re safe.”
Steve managed some gasping breaths and could feel his heart rate coming down.  Right.  This was Robin, his soulmate, he could tell her and she would understand.  “It started the first day of freshman year…”
Eddie didn’t end Hellfire early, even though he felt nauseous and increasingly distracted.  He owed it to the group as their DM to see it through so he pushed his feelings aside and let the kids get through a tough battle before calling it a night.  “Okay, that’s it for now.  You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.  Y'all got rides lined up?”
“Yeah, we’re getting picked up,” muttered Mike, “He’s probably already out there waiting.”  “Alright then, chariots may wait no longer.  Scram!”  Eddie hurried everyone out the door and quickly cleaned up the papers and books sprawled on the table.  As he made his way out he could hear the kids chattering away about the most recent developments in the campaign and as he burst through the gym door he heard a sharp whistle.  “Can we please let’s go before your parents kill me for missing your curfew?  I’ve been out here forever waiting for you guys to be done.”  Eddie knew that voice.  He looked up straight into the eyes of Steve Harrington.  He was dressed in his regular polo and jeans, hair perfect as always, leaning confidently on the hood of his BMW, but as Eddie caught his eye he saw the boy flinch and round his shoulders.  Christ Almighty.  What had Eddie done?
Eddie didn’t even remember driving home.  He was at school in his van and then he was fully dressed in his bed.  Over and over his mind replayed the events of the last four years.  He wasn’t a stranger to reminiscing about his days as the Freak who humbled the King, but this time he tried to remember that Steve was a flesh and blood person, a kid, really, like Dustin or Mike or Lucas.  A kid with real feelings and problems who, maybe, didn’t deserve to get picked on for entertainment.  And wasn’t that the thing.  Eddie had never stopped to consider that what he was doing might have been just as bad, or even worse, than what had been done to him.  Maybe Harrington had deserved it?  By his junior year he certainly seemed like a real asshole.  But also, Eddie never really remembered seeing Steve initiate any of the prickish behaviors his sports ball friends liked to engage in.  Now that he thought about it, he remembered a few times where Steve hung back and helped pick up dropped books and papers or check that a kid was okay after having been tripped in the hall.  Eddie groaned.  This wasn’t the first time he’d messed up in his life, but it felt like the most important. 
Eddie didn’t get out of bed for three days.  His uncle tried to coax him out with favorite meals and rented movies, but Eddie couldn’t face him.  Uncle Wayne still thought Eddie was a good person and that was decidedly untrue.  On day three he decided that he needed a new plan.  He wasn’t even sure of the ultimate goal but he knew that step one would be making sure that Steve was okay.
“Robin,” Steve hissed.  “He’s out there again.”  Steve was staring out the front window of Family Video trying to look like he wasn’t staring out the window at the man casually leaning on a telephone pole across the street.  He knew it sounded crazy, but he was pretty sure that Eddie Munson was stalking him.  It was nothing he could prove because it was always in public but increasingly when he was out and about he would feel eyes on him and when he turned to look, Eddie would be there.  Yeah, alright, he was always doing something totally normal like buying groceries or having a smoke.  And sure, Eddie never approached him or glared at him the way he did when they were in school which, honestly felt weird.  And even weirder, a couple of times when Eddie noticed Steve noticing Eddie, he had smiled abashedly and fluttered his fingers in a little wave.  If Steve had to define it, he would have to say that Eddie was 'reverse bullying' him.  Was that even a thing?  Maybe he was just fattening him up with his pretty smiles and doe eyes like a lamb being fed before he was slaughtered.  It was disconcerting to say the least.
Robin gave Steve a sympathetic shrug.  She had been appropriately outraged when he had given her the details of his run-ins with Eddie but it was still hard for her to see him as anything other than the loud funny guy from band.  “Just ignore him.  He lives in this town just like us so you’re bound to see him now and again. And, so far at least, he’s been good to the kids.  Maybe try to let it go?  And speaking of band, did I tell you what Vickie did yesterday?....”  Steve turned away from the window to concentrate on Robin’s latest installment of the life of her crush.  Let it go.  Okay. He could try.
Eddie watched as Steve turned away.  He had learned a lot from watching him these past months.  Steve was kind to cashiers, patient when he was rung up incorrectly, and flirty in a dorky kind of way that never paid off.  He was always carting Eddie’s Hellfire kids places like the arcade or the diner or the mall two towns over and it seemed like he did it out of the goodness of his heart. He was a hard worker, staying late at work to clean thoroughly and lock up.  He was a good friend to Buckley, dancing with her and running around when the store was empty. Eddie could see why Dustin thought they were more than just friends. From the outside, Steve seemed to be just fine, but Eddie watched and he saw more.  When he thought no one was paying attention, Steve looked sad.  He flinched at loud noises.  And at night he went home to an empty house where, Eddie knew, he had to be lonely.  Eddie wasn’t so naive as to think all Steve’s problems stemmed from a stupid kid in high school who wouldn't leave him alone, but Eddie felt responsible for adding to his pain.  He felt lost, except for one thing. Every so often he would catch a glimpse of Steve with Robin or Dustin and his face would light up with the most painfully beautiful smile.  It was like looking into the face of the sun after a long rain and Eddie couldn’t catch his breath gazing at him.  “I see you Steve Harrington and I will do whatever it takes to keep you smiling. I goddamn swear it."
———————-
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quillandink22 · 8 months ago
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Rick Gomez (George Luz) interview with Ross Owen: Funny moments/anecdotes.
Boot Camp:
"Never any good sleep, rest or moments of clarity." "Don't think like a human being."
Rick would run with a cigarette in his mouth. (Feel like this is totally in character.)
He used to steal sausages from the kitchen to share with the guys during training.
Interviewer: "During the centipede push up, did you have Michael Cudlitz (Bull) feet on you?" Rick: "I don't think so, I had Cudlitz pretty much everywhere else, though."
Still refers to Michael as Bull.
Rick and Michael used to take turns impersonating Dale Dye. Dale couldn't figure out which of them was doing it. "Was like watching Dale dye suffer with schizophrenia."
Michael pranked his platoon by waking up early and shouting, "Those sons of bitches are 15 minutes late." The guys all woke up in a panic trying to get dressed thinking Dale dye was outside.
Neal McDonough (Buck) , Ron livingston (Nixon), James Madio (Perconte) , and Rick were referred to as the "Fab four."
The fab four broke in their jump boots by soaking them in a bath of water and then running 4 miles in them soaking wet. The run conveniently ended at a pub.
The Day 8th effect: Rick was on patrol with Donnie Wahlberg (lipton). When it came time to switch with Michael, they couldn't wake him, so Rick stayed on patrol all night.
Michael repaid him by bringing him coffee and cigarettes the next day.
Talking about George:
He said that George "carried the pain that everyone else felt through levity."
Also, does anyone know anything about George? "Commandeering a German BMW motorcycle, jumping it over a bridge and breaking his arm." (This should have been in the show.)
Things he stole from set:
M1 clips, knife case and several uniforms. Carried it all back to America in his carry on. (Say airport security was slightly concerned)
Reasons to listen to the interview:
Interview's George's actual kids.
Jimmy Madio calls in pretending to be a woman.
Micheal Cudlitz calls in to flirt with the female interviewer. (Part 4 of the interview for anyone who wants to hear him say "Sweetheart").
The full interview is on YouTube. Honestly, they need to write a book on boot camp. I'd be first in line to read it.
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