#tattoo artist Steve Harrington

[slashify]

We all love tattoo artist Eddie, but consider tattoo artist Steve.

He has an American Robin perched on a trumpet on his bicep for Robin. He gave her a brightly colored ice cream cone on her shoulder in different shades of pink. She rambled about cultural tattoos and the history of tattoos in America when she wasn’t bitching at him (‘Ow! For the love of all that is holy, Dingus!’ ‘Do you need a break?’) the whole time he was doing it.

He finds one of the kids (Max) attempting a stick n poke and gathers them all around for a lecture on safety and cleanliness. He promises the kids he’ll tattoo them for free when they’re old enough.

He and Will have art sessions where they’ll pick a subject and draw it traditionally and then Steve gives him pointers on how he would make the design better for tattooing. Will ends up apprenticing with Steve when he turns 18.

Steve still wears blue jeans and polos. His work is good enough that his customers don’t give a shit how he dresses.

He’s compassionate about coverups. He knows what it’s like to have changed so much that who you once were doesn’t fit anymore.

He’s very versatile, switching between outlines, black and grey shading, subtle highlights, and bold coloring with ease. He can do cartoon work as well as he can do realistic plants, or big cats, or lettering (he checks the spelling five or more times. He’s never messed up, but it’s one of his biggest fears). He has a whole list of referrals from people who like how he does scales. He’s lost count of how many fish, dragons, and snakes he’s done. He’s comfortable with a lot of styles, but he doesn’t do portraits. When Will starts at the shop he excels at portraits. Steve’s happy he’s found his niche.

Steve’s at a tattoo expo to network and check out new techniques when he finds himself stopping to watch an artist doing a tattoo of a demon. The artist has long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a grin like sunshine, and manages to make something grotesque and beautiful at the same time. Steve checks out the guy’s portfolio and sees a lot of fantasy stuff, dragons and wizards and a familiar looking set of dice, and he knows he has to go grab Will from the food court.

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

Steddie Flower Shop / Tattoo Parlor AU

another short update but I wanted to switch POVs and it made more sense to split the update in two. I hope y’all don’t mind. 

I Part One I Part Two I Part Three I Also on AO3!

***

Steve and Robin had settled into their routine at the new studio fairly quickly. They’d worked a lot of odd jobs together growing up so being in each other’s space in a work setting was nothing new. Sure, running a tattoo studio required a little more business acumen than working at an ice cream shop but the customer service smile and ease of interacting with near strangers came just as easily to the duo in either type of parlor.

It’d been a few weeks since Steve had started picking up bouquets from Eddie. In this time he had learned three things. First, Eddie only listened to heavy metal at volumes that could almost be heard across the busy street. Second, Eddie only had the shittiest of stick and poke tattoos. Third, Steve only had eyes for Eddie and was developing an incredibly embarrassing crush on the guy. Robin teased him relentlessly. Steve refused to show Robin his sketches of a tattoo series based solely on the bouquets he’d gotten from Eddie. She’d caught him staring at an arrangement wistfully and had tried to wrench the iPad out of his hand when she realized what he was sketching. If he drew little hearts around Eddie’s flowers that was nobody’s business but his own.

“First month drinks?” Robin asked as she returned from picking up lunch for her and Steve. They would probably close up early since today was a sketching and office admin day without any client appointments.

“Has it been a month already?” Steve mumbled through his first bites of sandwich.

“Stop talking with your mouth full, you absolute dingus. How I have survived this month with only you and your pining is anyone’s guess.”

“I’m not pining,” Steve argued.

“You are literally looking out the window to figure out if Eddie is back from deliveries yet,” Robin shot back.

“I am people watching and it’s not my fault that his shop is across the street,” Steve shrugged.

“If by people you mean Eddie and watching you mean stalking.”

“Leave me alone or I play ABBA on repeat for a week,” Steve threatened. It was mostly an empty threat because as much as Robin teased Steve for liking the band Steve knew Robin was as much of a dancing queen fan as he was.

“Fine, fine. I’ll lay off,” Robin relented. “Drinks tonight, though? You could ask Eddie and Chrissy to join?” Robin asked as the beat up De Lucas’ Flowers van puttered its way to a stop in front of the flower shop.

“If I ask will you be on your best behavior? Seriously, Buckley. You can’t be a dick about this in front of him.” 

“Cross my heart and swear to die,” Robin held out her pinky which Steve took and shook solemnly.

“The things I do for you, Robs.” Steve shook his head but started out the door to pick up this week’s flowers. 

“Munson!” Steve called over whatever loud music Eddie had playing through the speakers.

“Harrington! I’m almost done. Someone apparently did not appreciate the gesture of being sent flowers and threw them back at me so I have some fancy stems to add into your arrangement this week.” 

“Careful, Eddie. People will start to think you like me,” Steve teased. Over the weeks they’ve been getting to know each other, Eddie and Steve had settled into something resembling a friendship or at least not active antagonism. Steve still wasn’t sure if Eddie actually didn’t mind Steve stopping by once a week or if Chrissy had threatened Eddie into being nicer to him. They ran into each other every once in a while picking up coffee or lunch in the neighborhood but their interactions were pretty limited outside of the flower shop.

“Only you would twist me giving you tossed flowers into a romantic gesture, hun” Eddie said with a wink. Steve could admit their teasing erred on the side of flirting but Eddie seemed to be the type of guy that flirted with everything in his path. Steve had overheard Eddie coaxing his van into starting enough times to no longer be shocked when he threw out pet names as easily as breathing.

“Not what I said, man.” Steve rolled his eyes dramatically. Steve watched as Eddie held up different flowers and measured their heights against the arrangement. Steve watched until he was worried Eddie would catch him staring so he decided to strike up conversation again. “Oh, hey, so Robin and I were thinking about grabbing drinks after work since we made it a month if you and Chrissy want to join. No pressure or anything, just if you happen to be free we could hang out in a non-flower shop location. Only if you want though, totally chill either way.” Perfect, Harrington, really casual and normal way to ask someone to after work drinks, Steve chided himself internally.

“A whole month! Woah, bring out the confetti cannons,” Eddie joked.

“Jerk. Sometimes you gotta celebrate the little things,” Steve said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean it’s not like a huge deal or anything. We were just going to grab drinks around the corner.”

“You absolutely cannot go to Murray’s,” Eddie cautioned.

“What’s wrong with it? It seems fairly normal from the outside.”

“I dunno, man. Murray is just like super strange,” Eddie said.

“Pot, Kettle,” Steve snickered.

“No, dude, seriously he’s like weirdly intuitive. You can’t get a drink there without learning something you did not want to know about yourself,” Eddie added.

“Alright, then, you pick the place. Pick me and Robin up when you and Chrissy finish up here.” 

“Fine. This is done by the way,” Eddie said as held out this week’s offering to Steve. “Get out of my hair.”

“Eddie! This is way too nice.” 

“Happy one month, dude. I’ll come grab you when Chrissy and I wrap up.” Eddie ran his hands through his hair and Steve didn’t think about how soft it looked, not even one bit. Steve left the flower shop as Chrissy popped out of the back room to tell Eddie he had a customer on the phone.

***

Part 5 now out here!

Taglist: @a-little-unsteddie @maya-custodios-dionach @eboyawstenn @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @thehumblefigtree @throwbackthrowaway @micheledawn1975 @azreadytodie @goodolefashionedloverboi @steve-the-hairrington

I think I caught everyone but please please reach out if I missed someone! Seriously I cannot thank you enough for all the positive feedback and I hope y’all enjoy the boys starting to get closer! c:

[saquesha13]

!!Tattoo artist Eddie!!

Steve never imagined himself as a tattoo kind of guy. But back in ‘85 after the mall fire, he ended up getting a small matching tattoo with Robin. Just a simple little ice cream cone on his inner wrist - Robin’s idea really. Something about almost burning to death together in a fire really seemed fitting for matching permeant ink on their skin.

It opened Steve’s eyes, changed his perspective, widened his horizons if you will on the whole idea of a tattoo.

Even just a dumb ass ice cream cone that bystanders see on his wrist, that they probably assume means jack shit but in reality it means the whole world to Steve - is pretty fucking cool.

So, Steve hears about this really talented tattoo artist in Chicago and knew he wanted this guy to do his next piece.

The shop is smaller than Steve expected, smack dead in the center of the city and Steve arrived 30 minuets early to his appointment because he was pretty damn nervous.

This tattoo is not as… innocent as his matching ice cream cone with Robbie’s. It isn’t as meaningful either…

Well, okay, it still has meaning, but only to Steve. He isn’t the kind of guy to get a tattoo just because. Tattoos are expensive first of all, and he doesn’t want his entire body covered in ink. That just isn’t his style. But a peek of a tattoo here and there? Yeah, that’s not bad, that what El would call bitchin’.

“Steve? Eddie is ready for you.” The petite blonde at the front desk smiled, her warm bubbly aurora feeling so oddly displaced in a shop like this, so far from what Steve was expecting.

“Ah, okay, thanks uh…”

“Chrissy.” She brushed her bangs out of her eyes before pushing back the black beaded curtain leading to the back room.

“Thank you, Chrissy.” Steve hoped this girl couldn’t see just now nervous he was as he ducked between the beads. He was just starting to let his eyes roam around the gothic decor of the room when the hottest fucking man Steve has ever seen walks in, taking thick chunky rings off his pale fingers and putting them in the pocket of his skin tight black jeans.

Once his rings are safely put away, he tugs the thick dark curls off of his shoulders and tied it up on his head in a knot, some strands poke out framing his face.

“Steve, right?” The sexy man speaks, apparently. His deep voice sounded like honey and pure bliss to Steve’s hears. A smile stretches across his lips making the dimples - of fucking course he has dimples - poke out on his cheeks. “I’m Eddie.”

Steve apparently broke at the sight of this man, because seriously who the hell does this guy think he is coming in looking like THAT?! His voice cracked when he tried to speak making his cheeks turn rosey shade of pink and he had to clear his throat before properly speaking.

“U-Uh, yeah, me is Steve. I-I mean, I am Steve.” He would smack his own forehead with his hand if Eddie wasn’t busy holding it, giving him a nice firm handshake. Steve’s face was burning.

Scratch smacking face, Steve wishes he could just bash his head in on the brick decorative wall in the corner. Put him out of his misery. He’s doing a mighty fine job at humiliating himself already.

“This your first time?” Eddie smirked, his voice somehow dropping lower than it was before.

“Huh?” Steve blinked, clearly confused, no lights on in his brain as his eyes darted between Eddie’s huge brown eyes to the tattoo peaking out under the v-neck of his black long sleeve shirt. God he wished he could see what that tattoo actually was, maybe lick it.

“Your first time getting a tattoo.” Eddie clarified, the smirk never leaving his face as he finally let go of Steve’s sweaty palm.

“Oh, no actually. I’ve had - “ Steve cleared his throat again, trying his dammed hardest to chill the fuck down. “Had got another tattoo before this one.”

“So, you’re not a virgin then?” Eddie winked as he slid on his rubber gloves, covering up the black inked tattoos on his broad hands that Steve suddenly wished he looked at before they were gone from his sight. Then he realized what Eddie just said and his head snapped up to the playful look on Eddie’s face.

Shit. Is Eddie actually flirting with him? Is this how Eddie speaks to all of his clients? Or has Steve finally lost his marbles?

“Nope, defiantly not a virgin.” Steve watched Eddie’s movements closely as he finalized setting up his supplies, grabbing the stencil of Steve’s tattoo. “Not a virgin with tattoos either.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, something gleaming in his dark eyes that makes Steve’s levi’s suddenly feel a little too tight. The grin on Eddie’s face is down right sinful. “Well, Steve, as long as the sketch looks good to you and you are still good with the placement, we can get started.”

Steve leans over and looks down at Eddie’s sketch of what he had requested sitting in Eddie’s gloved hands. Just looking at the two words, at the way Eddie wrote the font knowing it was his work that will be forever on Steve’s body has Steve’s blush refusing to go away.

“Uh, cool. Okay. Yeah it looks good, really good.” Steve had to lean over Eddie’s shoulder to fully see the entire page, not that it was really necessary.

“Lay down on the bed, on your stomach.” Eddie gestured with his chin to the left, where the tattooing bed was. “Make sure you get those jeans off first,” Eddie huffed out a laugh as Steve was about to settle down on his belly, his face turning beat red in embarrassment feeling idiotic.

“You do want your ass tattooed still, right?” Eddie asked, his voice smug at the flustered look on Steve’s face.

“Well, yeah. Obviously. That is why I am here.” Steve scoffed, wondering why the hell he is blushing like a teenage girl in this sexy ass man’s presence. Usually Steve is the one making people blush, not the other way around.

“I don’t usually undress my clients… but I would for you.” Eddie nibbled on his bottom lip, making damn sure that Steve’s face stayed tomato red as Steve swore he saw Eddie look at him from head to toe.

He had to take a deep breath to get his damn body to cooperate downstairs before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging down his fly so he can scoot the denim and his grey briefs down over the curve of his ass leaving them just barley covering his junk in the front and staying on his legs.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything as he climbed on the bed on his stomach, not trusting his voice whatsoever as his eyes said more than enough, keeping them planted on Eddie’s.

“This good?” He rested his chin on his hands, his entire bare ass out in the open, wondering why the hell Jonathan Byers failed to mention how damn hot his favorite tattoo artist was.

Eddie for once seemed a little lost for words. He doesn’t stay in the room when his clients undress, it’s unprofessional. He never ever offers to take their clothes off for them either. But for some reason his feet stopped working the second Steve’s fingers went to unbutton his jeans.

“Absolutely perfect, pretty boy.” Eddie damn near purred, wondering how he lucked out, to be the one to tattoo this angels ass. Getting fucking payed to touch his ass. To tattoo the words Bite Me on his juicy round cheeks.

It isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo tattooing someone’s butt cheeks. He’s done almost every body part at this point in his tattooing career. But fuck, no client has ever affected him, not like this.

“Skins sensitive here.” Eddie licked his lips as he stepped close to the bed, wishing he wasn’t wearing gloves so he could really feel Steve as he ran his fingers over the exposed skin before putting the shaving cream along his ass, shaving the light colored peach fuzz right off his literal peach. “Need numbing cream, sweetheart?”

“No. Don’t need numbing cream. Wanna feel it.” Steve hummed, looking over his shoulder at Eddie. Steve’s red face has faded to pink, finally calming down a bit trying to sit still so he isn’t wiggling his ass in Eddie’s face - not that he thinks Eddie would really mind too much if he did.

Eddie muttered something under his breath, his hands stilling over his ass from where he was wiping the shaving cream away with surprisingly soft hands.

It’s funny, Steve came in set on only getting one tattoo. But as he laid here on the bed, the tattoo gun buzzing as the needles push against his ass, all he can think about is coming back, getting more ink on his body, all over his tan skin as an excuse to come back and see Eddie.

To come back and get Eddie’s hands on him.

But when his appointment was over - much sooner than Steve would have liked - turns out he didn’t need to come back here.

Because Eddie invited him to go home with him.

[starrystevie]

steve who got a lower back tattoo on a drunken dare in his late 20s and forgets it's there most of the time. steve who stretches one night at a party and his shirt rides up exposing the swirling lines that peek out from under his belt line. steve who doesn't think anything of it and forgets to pull his shirt back down as he leans forward on the couch while talking with the group, basking in the welcomed burn of a certain pair of eyes locked on him.

eddie who's sitting next to him, gripping the back of the couch cushion where his arm is slung around his long term crush like it's the only tether he has to planet earth because not only does steve have a tattoo, but it's right there. eddie who takes in a shuddering breath and can't pull his gaze away from the ink that spreads low over tanned skin that he longs to explore. eddie who digs his other hand into his knee to keep it from doing anything stupid like running his fingers over the tattoo or pulling steve up to go to the spare bedroom.

steve who shoots frozen-in-place eddie a knowing smirk after a few seconds as he leans over even further before standing up and holding out his hand in invitation anyway. eddie who finds out later in the night that he doesn't have to wonder what the tattoo feels like under his fingers for much longer.

[steddieasitgoes]

Thinking thoughts about Swimmer!Steve who has just made his Olympic debut and immediately NEEDS to get the rings tattooed on him like all the veteran swimmers have. Thankfully, there is a tattoo shop not far from the Olympic Village that just so happens to be owned by Tattoo Artist!Eddie.

Steve leaves the Olympics with several medals, a world record, and a boyfriend

[steddieas-shegoes]

It’s not that Steve didn’t want a tattoo.

He’d wanted one for years. Just something to piss off his parents the way they pissed him off constantly.

Asking when he’d find a girlfriend (he wouldn’t, he’s gay), when he’d find a better job (he liked his job as a guidance counselor), when he’d move out of the tiny apartment he shared with that girl who couldn’t give them grandchildren (Robin gagged at the mere thought of any of that).

But Robin promised she’d go with him when he made this appointment a month ago and she’d just cancelled at the last minute. Something about a work emergency.

She didn’t have a work emergency. She worked at a Starbucks.

He knew what she was doing. It’s what she always did.

“I just wanna get you out of your shell! People should see the Steve that I see!”

Robin did get a different version of Steve, one that didn’t feel like he had to hide his surprisingly bubbly personality. His students got a calm, kind counselor. But everyone else?

They’d be lucky to get a smile during a conversation.

He wasn’t, like, an asshole.

He just had asshole tendencies.

Robin called him her Oscar The Grouch.

He allowed it because deep down, he knew it was true.

And now he was even MORE grumpy because he had to get this tattoo alone. In a place he’d almost certainly be the outcast in his glasses and business casual attire. With people judging him for not already having tattoos and piercings at the age of 27.

Robin owed him.

When he walked into the shop, he was surprised to hear classic rock instead of heavy metal. The front counter was covered in pictures of bands Steve didn’t know, tattoos he would never get, and signs that had enough vulgar words to fill up the swear jar he kept in the apartment for shits and giggles.

Nervous was an understatement.

A head popped around the corner, bright smile lighting up the face of a man who looked like he belonged here.

“Be right there!”

Steve didn’t bother to say anything because as soon as he started to respond, the head was gone.

He frowned, but figured the guy might be with another client and he was pretty sure they had rules about touching things with their gloves on. At least, he hoped they did.

He stared down at the picture on his phone.

It was small, simple. Something he wouldn’t even have to cover up at work.

One of his students drew it for him last year when he’d missed some work because of the flu. He’d only missed two days, but because he so rarely missed, his regulars were pretty worried about him.

His regulars being three students who sat with him during their lunch period to avoid bullies.

It was a sun, with beautiful yellows and oranges combining into a near perfect circle, small lines randomly jutting out and fading into nothing.

It was beautiful art.

And he was getting it permanently etched onto his body.

He loved his students, what could he say?

The head popped back around the corner, interrupting his thoughts again.

“Sorry for the wait. I had a customer on the phone. How can I help ya?”

“Steve Harrington. Here for a 6:00 appointment?”

The guy beamed at him, nodding along.

“Perfect! You said you already knew what you wanted?”

Steve held up his phone to show this still nameless guy the picture.

“You want the colors like that?”

“If you can.”

“If I can, he says! Of course I can! This is really nice. Did you make this?”

Steve snorted, but he wasn’t that amused. This guy was like a ball of energy and Steve was already exhausted.

“No. One of my students did.”

“Oh, are you a teacher?”

“Guidance counselor.”

“That’s cool! So you, like, make sure the youths of today are on the right path? Keep them interested in the right things?”

Steve blinked at this man.

“I guess, yeah. So can we uh, get started…”

“Oh shit! I always forget to introduce myself to the newbies. Eddie.” He held out his hand towards Steve to shake. Steve stared down at it for a moment, knowing his face was doing that judgy thing Robin always warned him about, but not being able to stop it. “Not a handshake guy?”

Steve cleared his throat, finally reaching his hand up to shake Eddie’s.

The rings on Eddie’s fingers were cold against his own, his grip was strong but not the type of string that made Steve uncomfortable.

Eddie was smiling at him. He never stopped smiling, this guy.

It was kind of…cute. Steve would never admit it to anyone, but the way Eddie just seemed genuinely happy was really doing it for him.

That was annoying.

When he finally remember to let go, Eddie was already turning around to grab a piece of paper from the shelf behind him.

“I’m just gonna have you send that to this email,” he pointed to the contact info on the piece of paper he’d grabbed. “And I’ll get it printed on transfer paper so we can get started.”

Steve nodded and sent the picture as requested.

He ignored the shaking of his hands. It wasn’t a big deal. It’s just a tattoo. Most adults have them. Robin had four. Eddie here seemed to have hundreds.

Eddie must have noticed his visible anxiety. He felt Eddie’s hand on his arm, squeezing gently.

“First tattoo?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Nah. I’ve just done a lot of first tattoos.” Eddie pulled up the picture on his own phone while he spoke. “I promise it’ll be easier than you’re thinking.”

“I’m not worried about the pain.”

Eddie glanced up at him quickly, then back down at the phone in his hand.

“It’s just permanent, ya know?”

Eddie let out a laugh and held up both of his arms, fully covered in tattoos.

“I know. That’s what’s great. Nothing in life is permanent, but these are. Even when you’re long gone, these will still be on your body.”

Steve hadn’t thought about it like that.

Permanence was something he’d always struggled with. It’s why he was so standoffish according to the two therapists he’d tried talking to. His parents had never given him an idea of what someone staying around was like, his friendships all ended when he realized he wanted to be a better person than they were capable of being, and his only serious relationship ended when he was ready for marriage and she wasn’t.

He’d been through a lot of personal growth since then, most of it thanks to Robin and some experiences at the gay clubs she took him to, and now he felt better about who he was.

He just didn’t think anyone or anything would stick around.

Robin was proving she might, but only time would tell. Plenty of time for Steve to fuck it up.

“You can still back out, man. I won’t charge you the cancellation fee or anything.”

Oh, how nice. Eddie thought he was a wimp and wasn’t even gonna follow his own policy to let him back out.

That’s shameful. He was ashamed.

“Not backing out.”

He folded his arms in front of his chest, trying to tone down the glare he could feel on his own face.

Eddie threw his hands up as he waited for the printer to finish.

“Alright. Just letting you have an out.”

Eddie looked over the few copies he’d printed, all slightly different sizes, and then lined them up on the counter facing Steve.

“What size were you thinking? Where’s this going?”

Steve pointed to the middle one, barely an inch wide.

“I was thinking my wrist?”

Eddie smiled at him.

“Sounds good, sunshine.”

Oh. That was not good.

That little thing his stomach just did?

Nope. Not good at all.

Eddie walked around the counter and gestured for Steve to follow him around the corner.

Steve found himself in awe of the room he was walking into.

He’d never seen such variety in anything. Some of it resembled the front counter, but there was also a Bob Marley poster, a rainbow flag, a whole wall of funny bumper stickers, and graffiti along the ceiling.

It was certainly a lot for the eyes to take in.

Steve kind of loved it.

He even let out a smile.

He quickly hid it away again when he heard Eddie hit his hand against the chair.

“Got it all clean already for ya. Just take a seat and get comfy.” Eddie reached over grab some gloves from a shelf before he sat in front of Steve. “Gonna put this on you first. Make sure the placement is good. Then I’ll shave that area and get all my stuff ready to go. The tattoo itself probably won’t take more than an hour, and most of that will be shading these beautiful colors. Need anything before we get started? Water? Bathroom? Snack?”

Steve’s head was spinning.

Eddie’s energy was relentless, and he had a smile on his face the entire time.

Steve couldn’t help smiling back at him.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Eddie nodded and started humming along to the song playing over the speakers.

He went through everything quickly, but still took his time explaining everything. Steve was kind of grateful he didn’t have to sit in silence; His brain wasn’t his friend when there was silence.

“Alright, sunshine. If you’re good, I’m good.”

Steve felt his face heat up, blush spreading from his cheeks to his neck.

“I’m good.”

And then he started.

It was sharp, the needles carving ink into his skin causing a new sensation up his entire arm. But it was also…good?

He’d expected it to be painful, maybe even go numb. He hadn’t expected the pain to feel like this.

He lost focus. Everything felt distant and blurry, but in a sleepy way, not in a pass out way. Steve felt himself smiling slightly, but didn’t have the energy to stop it.

He was watching Eddie work, but wasn’t really seeing anything beyond the way his fingers splayed his skin tight and the tattoo gun left ink behind.

His eyes closed at some point, but he wasn’t asleep, the faint buzz of the tattoo gun keeping him present enough to stay awake.

“Hey, sunshine. Doing alright?”

“Hm?”

He tried to focus in on Eddie’s face. Eddie was very close. He was holding his wrist.

Steve was still here.

“Need a break?”

“No. I’m good.”

Eddie chuckled. “I’d say so.”

He continued, and Steve let his mind wander again. It was nice to drift. He’d never felt this relaxed before, not even during the massage Robin got him for his birthday last year.

“Alright, sunshine. You’re done.”

Steve looked down at the tattoo now covering his wrist.

It was beautiful, even better than the picture.

He started to cry.

If he wasn’t so far gone, he’d probably be embarrassed or angry about it, but surely other people had cried after a tattoo before. Maybe Eddie would just ignore it.

“Oh, sweetheart. Do you not like it?”

“No. I love it.” Steve took a shaky breath, then another. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

Eddie was rubbing his back and smiling sadly down at him.

“I’m glad you love it. I just have to wrap it up and go over some care instructions, okay?”

“Okay.”

Steve was never this vulnerable, not even with Robin. He was pretty sure she’d only actually seen him cry once when a student moved away.

His whole thing was that he didn’t show emotions. His job required it to an extent, though he was always caring to his students, giving them smiles when they came in to make them feel welcome.

But here he was smiling and crying to a stranger over a tattoo.

“Sunshine?”

“Yeah?”

“Got you some water. I need you to look at me while I go over the instructions okay?”

“Okay.”

He felt himself coming back down to earth as he looked at Eddie, a soft smile making Steve focus in on his mouth.

“That’s good. Keep this wrapped for four hours at least and longer if you’ll be outside. When you take it off, make sure you wash it with antibacterial soap gently and then use moisturizing lotion, unscented is best. If you need some, I can give you some. Make sure to keep it moisturized over the next week. It’ll peel a little, that’s normal, but if you see anything that’s a lot of color falling out or something, come see me and I can fix it. No long exposure to direct sunlight for at least 4 weeks, and use sunscreen on it if you think you will be.” He took a breath and smirked. “Got it?”

“Um.”

He handed over a paper with a laugh.

“It’s all right here. I just needed you to come back down from space. Drink your water and relax for a minute. I’ll go get the card reader.”

Steve did as he was told, enjoying the way the ice cold water helped him focus back in on his surroundings.

With the focus came the grumpiness. He was crashing from his adrenaline high, and his first instinct was to pout.

He didn’t think he was visibly doing so until he heard Eddie snort from a few feet away.

“Welcome back. Sorry to burst your bubble. If I didn’t have another client in 20 minutes, I’d probably have let you stay there for a bit. Seems like you needed it.”

“I. What do you mean? I was just zoned out.”

Eddie froze where he was typing something into his phone.

“Have you never…? Oh. Jesus Christ. Okay. Well. I don’t.” He looked genuinely concerned about what to do. “Okay. I don’t feel comfortable letting you be alone yet. Do you have someone you live with or who can hang out for a bit?”

“My roommate had a work emergency or she’d be here.”

Steve’s arms were crossed again, but the pull of the wrap around his wrist reminded him of the dull ache he was still experiencing. It made him shiver, but he couldn’t explain why.

“Okay. Can you stick around for a bit? I’ve got an office with a couch in the back.”

“Are you gonna tell me why?”

“Ever heard of sub space?”

“Like…the kinky thing?”

Eddie facepalmed.

“Yeah. Like the kinky thing.”

“I mean, I’ve heard of it. Why?”

“You just spent the last hour in it.”

Steve was usually pretty good at keeping a pretty stoic face, but his jaw dropped.

“No I didn’t.”

“Sunshine, you were gone. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone that deep from a tattoo before.”

“If this is just a way to get me alone in your office or something…”

“Steve. I know you don’t know me, but I would never do that. If I wanted to get you alone, I’d just ask you.”

“I’m sure I’d say no.”

“Exactly. So you’ll stay so I can keep an eye on you?”

Steve shrugged. He didn’t have anything else to do and Robin wouldn’t be home for hours.

“I guess.”

Eddie’s eyes were practically glittering.

“Good. Go lay down, sunshine. I’ll bring you more water in a minute.”

So despite Steve having no idea what just happened, and barely any idea who Eddie even was beyond a talented tattoo artist, he made his way to the office and curled up on the couch.

Pout firmly in place because he was still Steve, after all.

Chapter 2 /  Chapter 3

[hbyrde36]

Chapter 1: Under My Skin

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art (coming soon!) by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 5937 | Chapters: 1/2 | AO3 Link

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that. 

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten his girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. 

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever. 

And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.

Eddie had just started wiping down the front desk counter, which doubled as a display case for the various accessories and body jewelry they carried trying to kill some time between his last appointment and cover-up-guy, when Chrissy came walking out of her studio.

It was one of the biggest perks, in his opinion, of owning their own shop. Not only did each of them finally have their own work spaces—no more having to listen to other client conversations or fighting over a single bluetooth speaker—but being their own bosses also meant they could decorate and customize their own studios to their heart’s content. 

The main area of the shop was a bit of a catch-all, much like his and Chrissy’s shared apartment. It featured neutral walls lined with a mishmash of all the things they loved, sprinkled in and amongst odd antiques, knick-knacks, and various pieces of unique artwork. There was everything from vintage vinyl record jackets tacked to the wall, to faux taxidermy mountings of creatures that had never existed in real life. 

Entering Chrissy’s studio was a little like stepping inside a Lisa Frank notebook cover. All vibrant rainbow colors and aggressive animal print. Eddie had painted the walls himself, color matching the exact shade of fuchsia as the adjustable chair he’d custom ordered just for her. He was no interior designer so she’d taken it from there, and though the finished product was a little too bright for his tastes, even he had to admit it was still pretty fucking metal. 

Eddie’s space was the polar opposite, featuring dark stained wood furniture and a style of decor that could be best described as a slightly more grown up version of a teenage boy's bedroom. Band and movie posters lined three of the walls, but instead of being held up with thumbtacks, or scotch tape, they were neatly laid in matching frames with thick black edging. The remaining wall held a gallery of photos. Him and Wayne from their last fishing trip, one from when he and Chrissy had received the keys to the parlor unlocking its doors on the first day that it was theirs, and an old snap of him and his high school bandmates standing in front of their homemade banner, among many others.

It wasn’t until Chrissy came up to lean on the counter with her jacket zipped-up and her purse slung over her shoulder that he realized something was up.

“Don’t forget to lock up when you're done.” She said, tapping her nails on the glass. “Oh! And can you stop and pick up some oat milk on your way home? We’re out.” 

“Wait, where are you going? Didn’t you have a client booked tonight too? I thought we were in this together, Cunningham!”

“Not anymore.” She said cheerfully, leaning across the counter to rest her elbows on the glass, leaving an ink smudge on the exact spot he had just finished cleaning. He swatted at her with the damp rag and she jerked back with a giggling-gasp.

“Mine had to cancel.”

Eddie groaned. “I hate when clients do that.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t bother me. It’s like a free night off I wasn’t expecting.”

“Not exactly free, since canceling means not paying in full.” He grumbled.

“Oh lighten up! It’s not like we’re that behind on bills or anything.”

“Tell that to the electric company.” He said, mostly to tease her, though he couldn't help glancing up at the excessively large and kitschy skull chandelier he’d found on Amazon that definitely didn’t use high efficiency light bulbs, but he had sworn at the time was worth it for The Aesthetic™.

“Why are you always so grumpy?” Chrissy asked, jutting her lip out in a dramatic reenactment of him pouting. 

Not that he was one to pout. 

“I’m not!”

“Look at your face, you're grumpy right now!”

“That's because y- you’re…” He cut himself off with a sigh. 

He couldn't begrudge her the time off, he’d be hightailing it out of there just the same if it had been him. 

“Just get out of here.” He said, conceding defeat.

She beamed. “Okay! See you later!” She said, all but sprinting to the front doors. “Don’t forget about the milk!”

“Wait, why can’t you–” He started to ask, but she was on the other side of the door before he could get the words out.

“Oh forget it.” He mumbled, stashing the glass cleaner away where it belonged. 

About fifteen minutes later the bell above the door chimed, signaling the arrival of what Eddie assumed to be his last customer of the day. 

Except, it couldn't be.

It couldn’t possibly be because the Adonis that had just entered his humble tattoo parlor was, quite frankly, bonkers hot. There was no way, absolutely no way someone had this guy—this guy—so obsessed with them that he went and got their name tattooed on his perfect body and then just… let him go. 

It was unthinkable.

“Hi, you must be Eddie. I recognized you from your Instagram.” Pretty-boy said with a shy smile.

“Steve?” Eddie asked, blinking hard, completely unable to mask the tone of disbelief.

The other man nodded.

Shit, okay.

So this was him—Steeeeeeve Harrington. This was the guy. 

Maybe there was something wrong with him? There had to be a catch, a series of very red flags or something because all Eddie could think about at that moment was, if he ever got a chance with Steve? He’d never let him go. 

Get it together, Munson!

The bright side, of a sort, was that Steve smacked of straight guy energy, so it was unlikely Eddie would even be in the running for a chance anyway. Better to just put it out of his mind.

Though, he supposed he could still… look. It's not like looking ever hurt anyone. Not that he made a habit out of ogling the clientele. Of course, none of his other customers had ever come in wearing vintage Levi’s that fit their ass like a glove, not to mention the way they fit around his–

“Eddie?”

Fuck. 

Had Steve been talking this whole time while he’d been off daydreaming about what those sinfully tight jeans might look like on his bedroom floor?

“Yeah.” A soft chuckle fell from Eddie’s lips as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “S- sorry, man. Spaced out for a second there I guess.” 

What the fuck was wrong with him today?!

“It’s okay. I was just asking if the plan was still the same? In your last email you suggested we should do this over two appointments.”

Work question… yes, good. Focus on the job! 

“Right. With what we talked about I'd like to concentrate on just the outline today, maybe a little shading, and then in six weeks or so once that’s healed have you come back for the color. If you’re still alright with that?”

Eddie could do the whole thing in one shot if Steve really wanted to sit that long, but with something like this he didn't want to feel rushed. He’d done a few concept sketches after emailing back and forth with Steve about what he was looking for, and honestly what they’d come up with wasn’t really his usual style. He could do it, he was more than capable, but he had to wonder why Steve had picked him, out of all the tattoo artists in the city. He’d seen Eddie’s Instagram, so he knew the kind of work he usually churned out. Hell, Chrissy would have been the more obvious choice for this.

Of course, now that he’d gotten an eye-full of Steve in person he was glad he hadn’t tried to pawn him off on her. He was also really hoping Steve would agree to the split sessions, it would give them an excuse to see each other again.

“Whatever you think is best. I’m putting myself in your expert hands.” Steve said, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks.

That was… interesting. 

Maybe Eddie had been a little bit hasty in his initial straight assessment?

Steve’s deposit had been paid, and they’d already gone over pricing through email so there wasn't much to discuss as far as that was concerned, After signing some paperwork and getting the other man’s ID scanned into the system there was nothing left to do but walk Steve back to his studio and get this show on the road.

“You can go ahead and take your shirt off, get comfortable. I’ll show you the stencil I drew up and if it looks good we can put it on and get started.” Eddie said, gesturing to his client chair.

He leaned over his desk while Steve got situated, taking a second to gather his thoughts, as well as add a small finishing touch to the transfer sketch before turning back to his client. The sight made his throat go dry. 

It shouldn’t have been as hot as it was. 

At Eddie's direction, in preparation, Steve had shaved his chest. More specifically, Steve had shaved half of his chest. The side Eddie would be working on, that sported the existing tattoo, was bare—smooth as a baby's bottom. The other side was… 

It was…

Jesus Christ.

It should have looked ridiculous actually, and it was a little funny, but honestly all Eddie could think when he stared at the untrimmed side of Steve's upper body, resplendent with the most glorious chest hair, was that it was a travesty, a crime even, that he’d never get to see the whole thing grown out in its full glory. 

The lack of a shirt also highlighted the fact that Steve was incredibly toned, much more so than he had initially appeared even through his slim fit henley. 

Eddie shook his head, praying it had suddenly become an etch-a-sketch and he could clear out his thoughts by sheer force. 

He truly didn’t know what had gotten into him. It was hardly the first time he’d worked on someone he found attractive, but usually he didn’t notice it quite this much. When you pierce and tattoo for a living you get used to seeing a lot of bare skin, including occasionally, areas typically reserved for romantic partners. Professional hazzard, but it’d never been a problem for him before. He was an artist, this was his craft, and bare skin was just another kind of canvas.

He blamed it on his current dry spell, self-imposed as it was. 

It was easy enough to go out on a Saturday and find a guy or girl to bring home for the night, but he was so tired of one night stands and meaningless hookups in bar bathrooms. Where was the substance? He wanted companionship. He wanted a partner. He wanted to fall in love. 

Eddie cleared his throat and crossed the room to hand Steve the stencil, busying himself with raising up his stool to the proper height and pulling on a pair of thick black neoprene gloves while the other man looked it over.  

“It’s great.” Steve said. 

“Good.” Eddie quietly let out the breath he’d been holding. “Alright I'm gonna put this on and have you take a look at the placement, make sure you like it, then we can get started.”

Eddie squeezed out a dime sized amount of the stencil gel and rubbed it into Steve’s chest, laying the transfer paper down in just the right way so that the final design would sufficiently cover what was underneath, assuming he had scaled it right. 

It was perfect. After a quick check in the mirror, Steve agreed. 

While they waited for it to dry Eddie double checked his set up to make sure he had everything he would need for the session.

“Ready to get started?”

Steve took a deep breath and blew it out slow. “Yeah. I am.”

His reply felt heavy, like maybe he was talking about more than just the tattoo. Had they known each other at all Eddie might have asked about it, but they were basically strangers, and it wasn’t his job to pry. 

With steady hands he set the needle to Steve's skin and got to work. 

They weren’t at it for very long before Steve started to squirm. 

Eddie ignored it at first, he could tell the guy was trying hard to keep himself still, and he wasn’t really moving enough to actually disturb the work. Sometimes it took a bit for clients to sink into the feeling, to let the pain fade to the background enough that they could relax a little bit or at least be able to keep their body from trying to react to the odd sensation. But then he noticed the light sheen of sweat spreading over Steve's upper body, and would have sworn he could somehow feel the other man’s pulse quickening beneath the hand he had pressed so closely to his heart, even over the vibration of the tattoo machine.

He should probably stop and do a check-in, suggest a breather or some water. It wouldn't be the first time a seemingly tough muscle-bound guy had struggled to sit for him. 

He opened his mouth to say something about it, lifting the needle as he took a quick glance up at Steve’s face, but what he saw had the words dying on his tongue. Steve was staring back at him, face flushed, breath coming quick and shallow, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. 

That… did not look like a face that was in pain—or rather—it didn’t seem like the pain was unpleasant. 

Fuck.

Eddie flicked his gaze quickly back down to his hands, the needle, fighting the urge to look lower. 

He shouldn’t. 

It wasn’t right.

The professional thing to do would be to ignore the reaction completely. 

But Eddie was a weak, weak man.

He looked. 

Just a quick peek, less than a half-second that his eyes wandered south, and immediately he regretted it. 

Oh fuck, fuck, fuuuck.

Suspicion confirmed. Steve was hard. He was also huge if the unmistakable outline was any indication. Eddie bit his tongue, fighting back the groan that was trying to fight its way out of his throat. 

Those jeans should be fucking illegal. The only thing worse would’ve been a pair of gray sweatpants. Now he was the one sweating.

“Sorry.” Steve said, voice strained.

Eddie stilled, lifting the machine away from Steve's chest again before looking back up to meet his eyes. 

“For?”

Steve raised an eyebrow, challenging him to continue to pretend he hadn’t noticed. 

“It’s fine, really. It… happens. Everyone reacts differently to the pain.”

Steve let out a high pitched and breathy huff of laughter. “It wasn’t like this last time.” He muttered under his breath.

Eddie tried hard not to read into that, not to think about what the difference might be.

“Do you need to take a break?” 

“No,” Steve swallowed hard. Eddie watched, momentarily mesmerized by the bob of his adams apple. “But, uh, can we talk or something? To distract me?”

He sounded so vulnerable, and a little embarrassed. It was enough to snap Eddie out of his daze. The last thing he wanted was for the person in his chair to feel uncomfortable. Talking he could do, it was one of his best things. 

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” Eddie asked casually, getting right back into his line work.

“You.” Steve answered quickly, pausing to clear his throat. “Um, I mean, did you always want to be a tattoo artist?”

Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, pretty much. I used to spend all my time, including the time I should have been using to study or do my homework, drawing, sketching, painting, you name it, and it just kinda developed from there. I gave myself my first stick-and-poke when I was about 15. My uncle was pissed. Not about the tattoo exactly, but he was worried I wasn't being safe enough about it—sanitary and stuff. Of course, he wasn’t wrong. So, Wayne took me out the next day and we got a book about it, and he bought me all the right materials. Even let me practice on him when I graduated to a tattoo machine.”

“He sounds like a really great guy.” Steve said.

“Yeah, he is.” Eddie could feel the wistful smile spreading across his own face. “Not just anyone could step in and raise someone else’s kid like that. Just wish I got to see him more. I go back to Indiana to visit him a few times a year, but it’s not the same.”

“I don’t see my family very much either, but we’re not close.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. My parents, they’re–” Steve trailed off as if looking for the right words. “Well, let's just say they're not as supportive of my—life choices, as your uncle was for you.”

“Oh?”

“I, uh, came out to them a while ago… as bisexual? They didn’t take it very well. Said I was just going through some kind of phase or crisis or something. Sorry, this is probably, like, way too much information to share with someone I just met.”

“No. it’s—Okay, maybe to a normal person it might be but I've never been what anyone would describe as normal. And… I get it.”

Eddie didn’t really have to say it. The outside of the shop sported every kind of pride flag you could think of. There were pictures right behind him on the wall of him and Chrissy at their first ever pride parade right here in the city. Not to mention his social media profiles, where he had a bi  flag right next to his age and pronouns in his bio. Steve knew, was the point, and Eddie was glad he’d felt safe enough in his shop—with him, to talk about it.

“Wayne was really good about that too.” Eddie said softly. “I’m sorry your parents weren’t.”

A comfortable silence settled between them after that and Eddie left it unbroken, better to let Steve decide which direction their conversation went from here—if he wanted to continue it. He seemed more relaxed already and his… predicament had mercifully gone down as they spoke. 

“When did you—how did you… know?“ Steve asked after a while.

“Junior High.” Eddie answered quickly, smiling to himself as he indulged in a little nostalgia. “Kinda the opposite of the usual story, I guess. I thought I was gay. I had such a crush on this boy a grade above me.  Nobody that would have given me the time of day mind you, I was a band geek and a huge nerd, but he was very nice to look at. Then he changed schools. I was heartbroken of course, which is my excuse for why I let this girl drag me under the bleachers during gym class. One second we were just sitting there talking and the next she was in my lap with her tongue down my throat.” 

“And?”

Eddie shrugged. “And I didn’t hate it. I reacted exactly the way a young boy reacts when a pretty girl is kissing them and grinding in their lap. Honestly, it blew my mind a little bit—had to reevaluate my whole world view.”

Steve hummed in understanding.

“It’s still mostly men for me but–” Eddie sighed wistfully, “Women.”

“Women,” Steve agreed reverently, letting out a soft laugh. “It was a bit more recent for me. A friend took me to a gay bar—dragged me there actually.” He started to shake his head, stopping instantly when he seemed to realize he might be moving too much.

Good boy.

Eddie smirked. “I bet you were popular.”

“You could say that. I’ve never had so many people offer to buy me a drink in my life.” As Steve went on he began to rub his hand along the chair's armrest, mindlessly drawing patterns into its surface with his long fingers.

“It’s funny, at 25 I didn’t think I had anything new to discover about myself, at least nothing big, but after that rather eye-opening evening I had to, like you said, reevaluate some things about myself. It wasn’t a huge shock I guess. Like, I had found guys attractive before—friends, celebrities, whatever, I just thought everyone felt that way.”

“Ah, the bisexual’s fallacy. Sure I think about other dudes sometimes, but only the normal amount.” Eddie said.

“How was I supposed to know it wasn’t!”

Eddie stopped tattooing as they held each other's gaze, both managing to keep a straight face for only a second before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. 

Figuring it was as good a time as any to take a short break, Eddie stripped his gloves off and slid across the room on his stool to a small mini-fridge he kept tucked under his desk, stocked with water and juice—something he always kept on hand in case a client got lightheaded.

As they sipped their drinks and both took an opportunity to stretch, Eddie decided it was finally time to put his foot in his mouth.

“So, how are you enjoying things on this side of the field? Someone as pretty as you, I'm sure you get asked out a lot.”

“No, uh, I don't know. I- I haven't really been out on any dates with guys.” Steve stuttered out nervously. “Kissed a few, but that’s all.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eddie said. He meant it too. Not only was Steve something special to look at, but he seemed like a nice enough guy. He deserved to be taken out and shown a good time. Maybe he was shy.

Steve laid back in the chair, puffing his chest out as he got back into position while Eddie slipped a new pair of gloves on. 

“Why, you offering to show me the ropes?” Steve asked, pointedly raising an eyebrow.

Eddie’s mouth went dry. 

Okay, not that shy then. Surely it was just fun friendly flirting though, right?

“Don’t tempt me.” Eddie teased back. Two could play this game.

“Why not?”

“First rule of the trade, or at least the Munson doctrine, no dating the clients.”

“Oh, that’s too bad.” Steve said, and without even looking up Eddie could hear the smile in his voice, a hint of–challenge accepted–in his tone.

The next hour flew by as they continued to chat, both remarking on the differences between small town life and city life, as well as lamenting how expensive it was, and how neither of them thought they’d still be living with roommates in their mid-to-late-20's.

For a while Eddie waxed poetic about Chrissy, who of course filled the roles of bestie, roommate, and business partner, which tickled Steve to no end. 

He told the other man how they’d met, apprenticing at the same tattoo parlor at around the same time. and wound up bonding for life almost immediately. They were total opposites on the surface but deep down they were remarkably similar. Eddie didn’t go into too much detail, as it wasn’t his story to tell, but alluded to the fact that he and Chrissy had the shared experience of being born to shitty parents, only to be raised by another family member. A grandmother in Chrissy’s case.

It meant that they understood each other more than most, and yeah, being around one another 24/7 also meant they got on each other’s nerves a lot, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

At some point Steve’s cell phone began to ring from where it was shoved in his front pocket. He apologized profusely for forgetting to switch it on silent before they’d gotten started, but Eddie assured him it wasn’t a big deal. 

Or—it wouldn't have been, except either it was some kind of emergency, or someone who was intent on reaching Steve immediately, and continued trying to call three more times. 

“We can take a break if you need to get that.” Eddie offered.

Truth be told he could use a little breather himself. All this time of being essentially face down in Steve’s incredible chest was getting to him a little bit, not to mention the way his forearm lightly brushed along Steve's stomach whenever he braced himself across the man’s body. The feel of their bare skin touching was almost too much, and more than once Eddie felt himself breaking out in goosebumps. 

“Yeah, I think we’d better. It’s gotta be my little brother and knowing him he won’t stop calling until I answer.”

Eddie busied himself removing his gloves and taking a long drink from his water bottle while he flipped through a few drawings on his side table, trying to look like he wasn’t hearing every word of Steve's side of the conversation. 

“Hey buddy, I'm a little busy right now. What’s going on?” 

Steve paused, listening attentively to the voice on the other end of the call. 

“Dustin, he’s not abandoning you. Just because he wants–”

Sighing as he was abruptly interrupted, Steve somehow made the huff of breath sound both annoyed and fond.

“Well, did he actually say he didn’t want to play D&D with you anymore?” 

Eddie’s head snapped up of its own volition. Did the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen in real life just say D&D?

“That’s what I thought.” Steve said with a satisfied tone. “It's gonna be fine. I’ll come see you tomorrow, okay? Tell your mom I said hi.”

“Sorry about that.” Steve said, addressing Eddie this time, rolling his eyes as he ended the call. “Teenagers.”

“Pretty cool little brother if he plays Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned. “Not you too! He and all his little friends are obsessed with it.”

“I used to play all the time with a group back in high school. We still try and get together for a one-shot at the holidays when we’re all back home visiting.” Eddie paused, concentrating for a second on wiggling his fingers into yet another set of gloves. There wasn’t really all that much left to do, another 20 minutes or so and he’d be done with the outline. “Was he alright, your brother?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine.” Steve replied as he sat back, getting into position. “We, uh, technically we’re not actually related—I'm an only child. But I used to babysit Dustin when he was younger and when he grew up I just sorta stuck around. It’s only him and his mom at home and I guess I thought… I dunno, like, maybe I could help? I drove him to his first school dance, taught him how to do his hair, shave, that kinda stuff.”

“That's… that’s really sweet, man. I’m sure he appreciates having you around.”

With every new thing he learned about Steve, Eddie felt like he was in deeper and deeper trouble. He’d been having a tough enough time keeping it together with simply lusting over a hot body, but now Steve was turning out to be this sweetheart of a guy and, client or not, Eddie thought he might just be worth breaking all the rules for. 

“He’s worried his friend group is falling apart because one of the guys is going out for the basketball team. He’s afraid if Lucas gets in good with the jocks he won’t want to play with them anymore.”

“As a former outcast and enemy to jocks everywhere, I can understand his concern.” 

“Are you saying we wouldn't have been friends in high school then?”

“Steve, Stevie, please. Please don’t tell me…” Eddie trailed off, stopping what he was doing and gasping for dramatic effect–hand over his heart. “Oh god, you were captain of the sportsball team weren’t you?” 

Steve giggled, his beautiful eyes sparkling with it. “Basketball, to be exact. I was the co-captain of the swim team too.”

“I knew it would never work between us.” Eddie tutted, shaking his head as he got back to tattooing. “Are you reformed, at least?”

“Once a jock, always a jock, I'm afraid. I’m a personal trainer now.”

It explained a lot, and the perks—pun absolutely intended—of Steve's day job were undeniable, but as hot as the mental image of him pumping iron was, the idea of Steve palling around with toxic gym bros all day was almost enough to have Eddie second guessing everything.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t like gym bros any more than the next guy.” Steve said conspiratorially. “My clients are mainly older women looking to maintain their strength and mobility as they age.”

Aaaaand Eddie stood corrected. “Lucky ladies.”

Jesus Christ, could this guy get any more perfect?

Steve shifted in his seat, starting to get antsy after keeeping still for so long. 

“Just a few more minutes, almost done.” Eddie murmured, tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on a spot near the curve of Steve’s collarbone.

“Do you do a lot of these? Cover-ups I mean?” Steve asked. “My roommate is the one who actually suggested it. For some reason I just never thought about it as an option.”

“I don’t know if i’d say a lot, but a fair few, yeah.”

“You, um. You can ask about it… If you want.”

Eddie glanced up in surprise. He would never have brought it up without being prompted, it just didn’t feel right, but he couldn’t deny he was curious, and if Steve was okay with it then–

“Okay, I'll bite. Who’s Nancy?”

“My fiance’. Well, ex-fiance’ now. We broke things off a little over a year ago.”

“That’s rough, I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay. Honestly, It’s… I should have probably seen it coming? We were high school sweethearts—got together before we really knew who we were on our own. But I was dumb and in love. I got the tattoo and proposed. I was so happy that day, but looking back it was so obvious that she’d only said yes out of pity or guilt, not because she really wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.”

The part of Eddie that believed in true love—and all that cheesy shit—was sad that a couple who had been together for so long, who had essentially grown up together, hadn’t been able to make it work. Selfishly though, a small piece of him was happy to learn that they’d been broken up for quite some time, lessening the chance that, if he did somehow gather the courage to ask Steve out when the tattoo was done, he wouldn’t be on the rebound.

“It was tough. I felt like a failure for a long time, like I was having to start my whole life over from scratch when I'd thought for so long that she was it for me, but it's actually been… good. We weren’t right for eachother, I can see that now. As much as it hurt, I'm grateful she had the courage to break things off when she did.”

“I’m glad you’ve been able to come to peace with it.”

“Getting this tattoo feels like the final step into letting that life go, y’know?”

Eddie nodded. Steve’s demeanor before they got started made so much sense now.

“Is there some significance to the design?” He asked, making his final line and setting the machine down. He wiped at the excess ink on Steve's skin, raising his head just in time to see the way the other man’s eyes lit up.

“Yeah, Robin. She–she’s everything to me. Like a best friend, but more somehow. I don’t think I really knew what unconditional love was before her. She’s like, another piece of my soul or something. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Eddie froze. 

The tattoo design was a bird—a robin.

A robin.

For, Robin.

How could he have been so stupid! 

Of course, Steve was getting one girl’s name covered up with something to represent the new one. 

Jesus Christ, they were both idiots.

Eddie for getting his hopes up, and Steve for making the same mistake—twice. At least this time it was a symbol and not a name, so if he and the latest potential Mrs. Harrington didn’t work out, at least he wouldn't have to worry about covering it up.

“Everything alright?” Steve asked.

The question spurred Eddie back into action. He spread the foam soap over Steve’s chest continuing to clean the finished tattoo while his heart crawled up into his throat. 

“Yup. All good.” Eddie forced the words out.

That's what Steve must have meant about not going on dates, he already had someone at home. Why hadn’t he just said that before though? And why had he flirted with him? 

Maybe he’d felt funny at first about admitting to being with a woman after all the talk about being bisexual. Not that Eddie would have judged, but he knew a lot of people did—bi erasure was so real. He understood that, but it didn’t make it hurt any less that Steve had, inadvertently or not, lead him on. 

Eddie gently patted the newly cleaned skin dry with a paper towel and carefully applied a square of Saniderm over the area, smoothing it out as he gave Steve his usual spiel, albeit a little robotically, about how to care for the tattoo over the coming days and weeks.

He quickly turned his back when he was done, telling Steve he could get dressed, and feeling stupid as all hell for being this upset about a guy he barely knew. He’d felt something though, potential—a spark. It was more than he’d felt for anyone in a long time.

Steve got quiet, looking a little confused with the sudden 180° Eddie’s mood had pulled. He felt a little bad about that as he brought the guy back out to the counter, but it wasn’t as though he’d suddenly become unprofessional. He was just… no longer being overly friendly.

After confirming the date for his second session, Steve paid his balance and Eddie walked him to the door.  

“Have a good night, Steve. Call the shop if you have any concerns or questions about aftercare.”

Steve bit his lip. “Oh, I… okay. See you in six weeks then.”

Eddie forced a smile, waiting until Steve was out of sight around the corner to lock up, and slunk back to his studio to disinfect it so he could finally go home and sulk.

Chapter 2

All my thanks to @penny00dreadful for all of your wonderful beta work, and cheerleading, and support, and just generally being THE BEST 💜

[pumpkinspiceeddie]

It’s finally Summer Exchange time bbs!@steddieonmywaywardson I hope I did your prompts justice :)

Part 1/2 🖤 part 2 here

Corroded Coffin Tattoo gets a new client that shakes up their summer.

Read on ao3 • Rated E • eventual steddie, platonic stobin, Corroded Coffin bros, Chrissy/Argyle mentioned, modern era, no UD, everyone ends up in Cali, slow burn (for me), inadvisable tattooing procedures, smut in part 2

Many thanks to the invaluable @fuctacles for fact checking and betaing my overzealous imagination and @lawrencebshoggoth for always hyping me up and dealing with my annoying self 🖤

Eddie looked down at his iPad calendar with a sigh. Three mainstream boring designs back to back. They paid the rent but he wished he could get to a point where he was tattooing what he actually wanted.

But then there was a consultation with a new client. Steve Harrington had met Argyle at a pool party and had apparently got drunk enough to show off his ‘wicked scars.’ Argyle immediately suggested Eddie to tattoo over them.

Getting the first message from a random Instagram asking about his availability and experience in covering scars had shocked him until the person explained. Scrolling through the stranger’s posts had been even more confusing. In most of his pictures he was either wrapped around a very cute — but obviously very gay — girl, or she was tagged as the photographer of the picture. Her page was much of the same, better edited pictures of them from the same day.

They’d gone back and forth with ideas (and banter) for almost a week in his Instagram DMs before Steve made the appointment. Had actually called the shop (no one did that) and asked about Eddie’s schedule. Argyle looked at him like he had three heads when he asked him to transfer the call to his office.

On the phone, Steve had been a bit more professional but somehow warm and friendly even talking about mundane things like his work schedule and Eddie found himself not wanting to hang up. Steve had asked specifically about one of Eddie’s favorite pieces, an eerie take on a harpy with disintegrating wings and an eagle skull for a face. Before he knew it, Eddie was pacing and waving his arms excitedly asking about what he had liked about it and what they could incorporate into Steve’s vision. Jeff had propped himself in his doorway with a knowing look until he got up and shut the door.

As he was cleaning up his station after the girl with the birds over her collarbone finally left, he froze in his tracks when a familiar face walked through the front door, sunlight catching all the highlights in his hair and turning his eyes more green than brown. His Instagram had not done him justice.

He quickly tried to pull his attention back to gathering up paper towels and rewrapping his gear. Get a hold of yourself, Munson. It’s just a normal consult. With a fucking beautiful male model-looking asshole (he wasn’t an asshole though) who he’d soon be getting to put his own work on and touch-

“Eddie! Steve is here,” Argyle thankfully turned his back to their lobby to smirk at him. All the guys had been teasing him this week after Eddie drunkenly gushed about him and the tattoo he’d soon get to do on him.

“Thanks, Argyle,” he huffed. “Give me a second.”

He quickly went to the bathroom to wash his hands and stare at himself in the mirror. “Be cool, dork. It’s a consult. Try to be fucking normal,” he hissed at his reflection. With a sigh, he went back out to face the music.

Suddenly he was in his tiny office in the back of the shop, overwhelmed by the delicious cologne or whatever it was that made Steve Harrington smell so fucking good.

Eddie poked at his iPad for a long moment like he’d never seen it before, feeling the weight of Steve’s eyes on him but refusing to look up. With a low frustrated noise, Eddie finally found the file he needed and almost threw the tablet into Steve’s lap.

“Uh. So th-this is what I’ve been messing around with. You know, since we talked. But we can change anything you don’t like! Whatever you want-“ he forced himself to stop talking as he finally allowed himself to look at Steve’s face.

“Wow, Eddie. This is, like, a lot different than I thought it would be.”

He felt his shoulders sag. Of course it sucked. No one liked his creepy creatures enough to have them on their bodies forever. He should just-

“Hey, no, that’s not what I meant.” Steve put his hand on his arm and Eddie looked up at him. “It’s awesome. Even better than I imagined. Can you tell me about it?”

Steve looked at him like no one else ever had when he’d shown them his work, actually interested and excited in way that made Eddie’s already fast heart stutter against his ribs.

“I-it’s, you know, you said you wanted a mermaid sea creature type thing. No tentacles,” he chuckled. Steve had been very adamant about that in their conversation, only giving Eddie that strict stipulation. That and no nudity, since he taught swimming lessons to kids and didn’t want to be paranoid about covering it.

Steve huffed a laugh but shuddered. Eddie let himself relax further.

“It’s essentially a creepy mermaid,” he said, reaching over to zoom into the drawing. “At first I was thinking sirens, you know, luring boats to their death, but they’re actually half birds and not underwater. This way we can play around with the tail or hair or bubbles or waves or whatever to cover anything we need to.”

Steve stared unblinkingly at his drawing with wide eyes. “It’s perfect. I love how dark and ominous it is. That’s really what I like about your art, Eds. It has so much raw emotion in it. She looks otherworldly and so sad.”

Eddie sucked in a breath at both the nickname and the compliment. No one had ever grasped the intricacies of his art, usually shrugging it off as horror or fantasy.

“Y-yeah,” he cleared his throat. “Thanks. Really. That’s- yeah,” he shook his head in disbelief. Steve fucking Harrington.

Far too soon, his watch buzzed, reminding him of his next appointment in thirty minutes. How had they’d been talking for half an hour already?

“Oh, well, I- um,” Eddie stuttered. He had never felt like this around any other clients, any other person really. “Can you, uh, show me where this is going?” He tried to smile normally.

“Yeah!” Steve grinned and stood, reaching for his belt.

Eddie jumped up too, the iPad on his lap dropping to the floor. Kneeling down to reach it, Eddie found himself looking up and making eye contact with Steve as he unzipped his jeans. “Wait, uh! Jeez man, I can like, step out, or-“

But Steve shrugged with a small laugh, toeing his shoes off so he could slide his pants down his long legs. “You’re going to see it all anyways, right? I’m not shy. Most of the tristate area has seen me in a Speedo, dude.”

Eddie winced, just now remembering why he wanted an underwater tattoo, his stories from his time as the captain of his college swimming team. Don’t picture it right now, freak.

He forced himself to stand while averting his eyes, somehow kneeling at this Greek god’s feet as he took his pants off hadn't already melted his brain but it was close.

The picture Steve had sent of his scars was just skin, and Eddie hadn’t known where it was. Should probably have asked, in hindsight. As Steve pulled the bottom of his tight boxer briefs up to show the back of his thigh, Eddie was glad Steve was turned away from him as his eyes trailed down the muscular thighs to the incredible calves. Somehow even his socked feet were attractive.

“Uh huh. Okay, um. How about you sit on the bed- on the couch! I have to- I’m gunna, you know, grab something.”

He ran out of his office and almost knocked over Gareth at the printer.

“Woah dude, are you okay?”

Eddie nodded as he scrubbed his hands over his face. “If I pass out, don’t let Steve do CPR, okay?”

There was a snickering laugh from behind him and he groaned.

“You don’t do CPR if the person is still breathing, buddy,” Steve supplied helpfully from his office doorway, still in just his boxers. Eddie wanted to dissolve into the floor.

Gareth handed him a bottle of water with a smirk and Eddie snatched a roll of tracing paper from beside the printer. “Thanks so much, Gare,” he grumbled.

“Don’t mention it.”

Steve thankfully didn’t bring up his awkwardness as he traced the back of his thigh on the paper, trying to get the overall shape and size they’d be going for.

“Oh, would it be possible to do like, something up higher?”

Eddie swallowed. “Up… higher?”

Steve did look back this time, making Eddie quickly try to settle his eyes somewhere innocent as Steve pulled the leg of his boxer briefs even higher, onto the perfectly pert cheek where there was another line of scarring.

“To cover this?”

“Sure.” He looked up into Steve’s big round eyes and got lost for a second. He would’ve agreed to anything in that moment, truthfully. Eddie would’ve tattooed his entire body if given the chance. “Um, hold it up there for another minute?” He directed as he grabbed the roll of tracing paper and tore off a longer strip.

Somehow he sunk into some professionalism he didn’t know he possessed as he used the sharpie to outline this very attractive man’s very expansive ass cheek and thigh.

He did leave the room afterwards to go back to the bathroom, throwing his long hair up into a messy knot to get it off his sweaty neck and splashed water on his face.

Exchanging pleasantries and telling Steve (with his pants on) that he’d send over some examples in the next week or so, he got through his hour unscathed.

At the bar with the boys that night, Gareth dramatically recreated his embarrassing moment outside his office. Eddie took the ribbing, downing his drink with a cringe as Drew shoved his shoulder.

“Just think, soon you’ll be tattooing the hottie’s ass for hours,” he laughed.

For some reason (a very good reason), he hadn’t allowed that part to solidify in his mind, and suddenly he had the image of Steve sprawled out under him as he tried to keep his hand steady to not fuck up his tattoo because he was staring at his ass.

“I’m fucked,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands and trying to ignore the ruckus the others made at his misfortune.

Eddie had never been this nervous or had such detailed discussions with a client about their tattoo before. Steve seemed genuinely interested in any and all lore associated with the tattoo and his work in general, shockingly even asking about some that were way back in Eddie’s instagram.

Before he knew it, Steve was sitting in the lobby again and Eddie tried to ignore everyone as he finished up a Roman Numeral date and sent his client to go look in the mirror.

Then it was Steve’s turn and his big eyes were staring into his.

His stencil was all prepared; Eddie had kept it safe in a special spot in his work station and had found himself staring at it between appointments.

“Hey Eds, ready to rock and roll?”

Eddie couldn’t help the wide grin that split his face as Steve approached him, Argyle helpfully sending him back to his station.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he mumbled, turning to start gathering his supplies.

In one of their (many) conversations in the time since the consultation, Eddie had advised Steve to come to this appointment in loose fitting shorts so they could just roll or pin up what they needed to get out of the way.

The short basketball shorts were not exactly what he had expected, but Eddie tore his eyes away from the way they hugged his ass and went to grab the stencil from its Important Spot.

His heart beating out of his chest while he meticulously shaved Steve’s butt cheek and thigh should’ve clued him in to how much this appointment was going to test him.

The voice of reason in his head (which annoyingly sounded like Uncle Wayne) was adamant that he be professional. Keep your head down and get to work.

That was easier said than done, however.

At first, Steve joked around with him, sprawled across his padded table with his arms pillowed under his chin. They both kept waiting for the next crazy song Argyle would put on, as he tended to jump from unheard of indie to hippie chique to instrumental video game soundtracks.

He’d explained this would most likely hurt worse than his previous tattoos, tattooing over scar tissue was a bitch. Steve had waved him off.

“Fuuuuck,” Steve whined the first time he traced the needle over the scarring on his upper thigh.

“Not too late to back out,” Eddie chuckled, knowing it would have the opposite effect.

“No way man,” he’d huffed before quickly rearranging himself on the table, gripping the corner harshly. “Keep going.”

Steve was definitely not the first attractive person he’d had on his tattoo bench, but for some reason all of his little noises and gasps and curses were sinking directly into his soul.

“Ready for a break?” Eddie asked when he’d almost finished with the outline. He hoped Steve would let them both take a breather. He desperately needed a cigarette and maybe a quick wank in the bathroom.

“I’m good. I think it’s- ah- it’s definitely getting easier,” Steve lied.

“The shading and color is going to be worse,” Eddie warned. “And we haven’t really, um, migrated north.”

Steve hissed, digging his fists into his eyes adorably. “Oh shit, you’re right. That’s going to suck, isn’t it?”

Eddie nodded solemnly, forgetting Steve wouldn’t be able to see. “Sure is, Stevie.” Not sure where the nickname had come from, he quickly forged ahead. “You don’t need to, I mean, how many people are really seeing it?”

Steve laughed sharply, Eddie pulling the tattoo gun away quickly. “Sorry. You don’t think I’m getting any, huh?”

Eddie felt his cheeks redden. “Th-that’s not what I meant! I’m sure you’re, like, you know, getting lots!”

Steve laughed harder and louder, a bit hysterically. “Oh, now you think I’m a slut?”

Eddie looked around for help but everyone was pointedly not looking at them.

“Oh my god, your face, Eds,” Steve gasped out, up on his elbow now to laugh at him. “I’m messing with you.” He continued laughing, but slowing down now. “Ahh, you are right though. A lot less people are seeing the goods lately. I’m not parading around in speedos anymore, at least.”

Eddie’s brain helpfully shut down at that thought so he didn’t keep putting his foot in his mouth.

“Are we at the break time?” Steve asked when he realized they were both just staring at each other.

“Yeah? Yeah! We can- whatever you want! Let me just-uh,“ he made himself stop making a fool of himself as he wiped a paper towel across the ink.

Eddie helpfully pointed Steve to the restroom first and he slunk to his office.

Jeff poked his head in, a wide grin on his face. “Having fun, Tedster?”

“Shuddup,” he grumbled, aggressively opening drawers in his desk, shoving things around.

“Did you leave your dignity in your desk somewhere?” Jeff teased.

Eddie groaned, then held up a battered pack of cigarettes triumphantly.

“Jeez, that bad, huh? You haven’t had nicotine since-“

Eddie held up a hand. “Nuh uh. Give me this, please, just, lay off. I’m-“

“A mess. I’ve never seen you like this with a client, man. All stammery and heart eyes. ‘Whatever you want, Stevie.’ What was that?”

Eddie shushed him loudly. The place was not huge. “Alright, alright. I don’t know what’s happening, okay? But I gotta get through it so if I can just self medicate in peace, please?”

The first pull of smoke into his lungs was amazing, leaning against the front wall of the shop, sunshine beating down on him. He felt like maybe he could survive this.

Until Steve was again laid out on his table, a cocky little smile on his face. Eddie tried to ignore it and the insane urge to ask him if he’d heard what Jeff had been saying, instead meticulously setting up his tray with ink pots and everything he needed.

“Ready, hot shot?” Came out of his mouth, snarky.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve sassed back, making Eddie laugh and breaking this bubble of uncertainty.

Steve had come back from their break without complaint, so it appeared he hadn’t had an issue with anything he heard or anything Eddie had done.

“Oh my god,” Steve gasped as the first swipe of color went on. “You weren’t kidding.”

It was then that Eddie realized he hadn’t done anything to settle his other problem. When he went back to the tray for more ink, he tried to surreptitiously readjust his pants and twisted away from Steve’s line of sight.

Steve’s noises were almost constant high needy noises now. In addition, Eddie was forced to settle his hand basically on Steve’s ass to complete the waves and bubbles above the mermaid. He decided to just keep going, no reason to switch spots to have to go back. Eventually he’d be tattooing and having to run his hand over and over the pert cheek. Don’t think about that.

“C-can we stop?” Steve panted.

Eddie froze.

“Sure. You okay?” He instantly searched his face. Had he been so in the zone that he hadn’t realized Steve was really struggling? Could he have been that deep in his own head that he hadn’t checked in with his client? “I’m so sorry- we-“

Steve sucked in several deep breaths, repositioning now that Eddie had stopped tattooing. Shifting onto his side to face him. “I’m okay. Just- a lot, uh, happening.”

Eddie quickly stood to grab Steve a bottle of water, pulling off his black rubber gloves on his way.

“No worries, we can chill, take a break, cut it short. Whatever we need to do,” Eddie rattled off quickly as he passed him the bottle.

Steve gulped half of the water then shook his head. “I think I just need a minute. Got kinda intense, I dunno.” He shook his head, hunching up his shoulders, looking small and overwhelmed in a way that made Eddie want to reach out for him. Keep him safe.

“Hey. No big. I warned you this would be a lot. I’m really sorry for not checking in.” He dropped down onto his stool, and he watched as Steve sort of curled into himself more. But there wasn’t much he could hide in his little shorts. “Oh. Um. That’s normal, too. Bodies are weird.” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but he could feel his cheeks warm.

Steve groaned and covered his face. “Oh my god,” he breathed.

They sat in silence for a long moment. Then Eddie had an idea.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

Steve seemed even more anxious when he returned to his station, almost shaking as he bit into a cuticle and ran his other hand through his hair.

“You’re okay. Do you trust me?” The heavy question hung in the air between them. “I mean-“

“Yes.”

Eddie’s heart stopped then ratcheted even faster against his ribs. He grinned down at this gorgeous man on his table.

“Put these on. They should fit.”

His black sweatpants were a bit short on Steve, his ass and thighs taking up more room than his own. But it would work, and they hid more than his thin shorts.

Now that he was decent, Eddie gestured for Steve to follow him.

“Argyle, we’re taking a break. Gunna go see Chris.”

“You got it. Tell her I said hey,” Argyle called from his corner, not raising his eyes from the guy he was piercing.

Outside, Eddie watched Steve become more and more relaxed as they walked to the end of the block.

“Chris?” He finally asked, cocking his head adorably. Like a puppy.

Eddie grinned. “You’ll see.”

Inside the brightly colored ice cream shop, Steve almost ran excitedly to the front counter just as Chrissy came from the back, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Cunningham? You’re Chris?”

“Oh my god!” She shrieked. “Harrington? What are you doing here?”

Eddie looked between them, shocked. Chrissy had come around the counter to launch herself into Steve’s arms, hugging him tight and squealing as he spun her around.

This wasn’t how Eddie had expected this to go. “Uhh?”

Chrissy thankfully caught his deer in headlights expression and let go, laughing. “Eddie! Where’d you dig this one up from?”

“He found me! Sorta. Argyle found him,” he snorted. “I’m doing a piece for him.”

Chrissy beamed at him, nodding. “Ahh, that explains it. C’mon you two, sit down. What can I tempt you with, Steve?”

While Steve downed a milkshake and Eddie massacred a banana split, Eddie learned that Steve and Chrissy had gone to school together back in Indiana. Somehow both of them had bounced around before ending up in California. Steve explained he’d always wanted to live near the ocean.

Chrissy asked about the tattoo he was getting, and Eddie watched enraptured as Steve took the question, excitedly detailing the dark mermaid.

“It’s to cover up some scarring on my leg,” he explained.

“Ohhh yeah, from your-“

Steve suddenly leaned over the table to cover Chrissy’s mouth. Eddie burst out laughing, unsure what was happening, but watched Chrissy and Steve have a silent conversation through raised eyebrows.

“Ewww!” Steve pulled his hand back and wiped it on his (Eddie’s) pant leg. “She licked me!”

“Not surprised. Chris is a hardass.” He shot her a wide grin as she glared at him and flipped him off. “She plays dirty.”

“Eddie doesn’t know about your accident?”

“Chrissy, I’m begging you,” Steve wailed dramatically.

Smirking, she took a small sip from her own milkshake, eying the both of them.

“I have no idea what’s going on,” Eddie chuckled. “But we need to get going if we’re trying to wrap up the rest of your tattoo today.”

Steve agreed and they both hugged Chrissy, Steve grabbing her number to make plans for lunch another day.

Shaking his head to himself, Eddie chuckled as they walked back down the road, “That was unexpected.”

“You aren’t kidding. What a small world, huh?”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Just so you know, her and Argyle have been in like an on again, off again thing for a while. But-“

Steve shuddered. “Nah man, she’s like my little sister. That’s not a problem.”

Eddie held the tattoo shop door open for Steve who smirked at him.

Feeling bad that he hadn’t thought of it before, he sent Steve to his station and went to grab the black canvas partition to put in front of them, separating them from the rest of the shop. Hopefully it helped Steve relax and not feel as anxious.

“Better?” Eddie asked.

Steve nodded a few times, then slid out of his (Eddie’s) sweatpants. Eddie turned his back to get his stuff organized again while Steve got himself situated on the table.

“C-can you… uh, pull your shorts up?” Eddie winced at his stuttering question. Again he was struck with the realization that he was never this unprofessional and simpering with any other client.

But Steve reached a hand back to uncover his leg and butt to him, pretty much tucking the extra fabric between his cheeks. Eddie swallowed.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Steve sassed in response.

Eddie snorted. At least he was feeling better.

He got back in the zone, shading and coloring in but making sure he kept checking in this time.

“Good?” He huffed as he wiped the paper towel across the scarred area on his butt.

“So good,” Steve groaned and Eddie barked a laugh.

“Need a break?”

“No, just get the worst bits over with, will you?”

Eddie chuckled and went over the scar again with the tattoo gun, seeing Steve clench his fist in his periphery.

He tried his best to quickly go over the scarred skin, to limit the amount of pain he was putting Steve through.

Until he gasped and Eddie pulled back, instantly stopping and tracking across his face.

“Sorry. I’m okay. I dunno. Maybe more nerve endings there or something,” he rambled, wide eyed and looking pale.

“Almost done, I promise. You need your water?”

Steve nodded shakily and Eddie handed the now surely lukewarm bottle over, watching as Steve downed it, his Adam’s apple bobbing attractively.

Eddie stood to go grab a cold water for both of them and impulsively picked up some wrapped cookies they kept around for everyone. Definitely not to bide his time while Steve got himself together, and definitely not because it was crumbling Eddie’s already dwindling self control. Absolutely not. He was a goddamn professional.

Steve was propped on his side again, but he didn’t look as nervous or shaken as last time.

“Oooh, a milkshake and then a cookie? You know something about my sweet tooth, Eds?”

The nickname caught him off guard, as did the shit eating grin and the new twinkle in his eye.

Eddie giggled, coughed, then managed a lower laugh. “Ah, I can’t say that I do, but it helps to keep your sugar up. Or just something to keep your mind off the pain.”

Steve groaned goodnaturedly, getting himself back into position on the table, propping himself on an elbow to munch on the cookie.

Eddie focused on shading around and over the scars first, making sympathetic noises at Steve’s whines and gasps. This may be the most trying session of his career. Could he put ‘good under pressure, ex: attractive client whimpering’ on his resume?

He powered through the rest of the shading, making sure he kept an eye on Steve but trying his best to tune out his (sexy) noises and didn’t really pay any attention to what was coming out of his mouth.

“Fucking hell, Eddie,” Steve panted as he tried to gently wipe off all the mess and clean him up. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from commenting or moaning along with him.

Eddie insisted he wear his sweatpants home.

After everyone had cleaned up from their last client, Eddie suddenly looked up and had everyone’s eyes on him.

“Uhh?”

“Dude. What was that?” Drew was closest.

Gareth chimed in with a smirk, “That was Steve,” dragging his name out like they were in middle school.

Eddie groaned. He could feel his cheeks heating up and he did not want to be ridiculed any further.

“Oh, Bredward, it was disgusting.” Jeff came over and threw himself dramatically across Eddie’s chair. “You two were over here giggling at each other like kindergarteners. And I’ve never heard you gushing over a client like that.”

Eddie opened his mouth to argue but the rest of the guys decided to pipe up to give examples.

“Doing such a good job, almost done, I promise.”

“A bit more. You can do it. C’mon.”

“I’ve got you, Stevie.”

“That’s it, deep breaths for me.”

“I didn’t!”

“You did!” Gareth nodded and Eddie grimaced.

“He took him on a date down to Chrissy’s halfway through!” Argyle supplied.

The rest of the guys stopped and turned to Eddie, who just made a face and nodded shortly in silent confirmation of this ridiculousness. There was an uproar of gasps and groans, making Eddie drop down onto his stool, groaning himself and throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling while they continued.

Jeff seemed to sober first. “What the fuck, man?”

“I don’t know. I- um, got a little carried away. I guess.”

“You guess,” Gareth huffed. “I felt like I was listening to a 900 number next to me. You know these cubicle walls aren’t soundproof, right? I had to tell my client you guys were dating because she was concerned.”

“What?”

“Bro, he was over here sounding like a pornstar and you were just as bad. I couldn’t tell her the truth!”

Eddie covered his face finally. He knew it had been too much, but hearing it from his friends made it all seem worse. Had Steve been uncomfortable with him? He hadn’t said anything. Eddie probably royally fucked this up for himself.

“Shit.”

@steddiesummerexchange

[hotluncheddie]

omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈

as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??

yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!

not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol

thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)

but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more

and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.

-

Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.

So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.

But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.

Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.

but Eddie had him.

Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.

But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.

Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.

Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.

And then Steve made it worse.

So so so much worse.

Because Steve went and got a tattoo.

Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.

He’s a die hard romantic.

And now Eddie is going to die, hard.

Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.

Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."

He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.

Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.

'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.

Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.

Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.

Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.

‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.

Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’

‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.

Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.

And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'

'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.

Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.

'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.

Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.

…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.

But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.

[mugloversonly]

When I Grow Up

This is for the Steddie Holiday Drabble Popup Event. @steddieholidaydrabbles

Rating: G; WC:726

Steve double checked his pockets while he waited for Eddie and Amelia. It was a big day for the new family. Amelia was graduating kindergarten and she needed to be spectacular. She wanted them all to wear matching outfits, and she wanted to wear her hair the same way her papa did. So, naturally Eddie was a blubbering mess all week.

His disposable cameras were secured and he called up to the two divas. “Time to go or we’ll be late!”

“Coming!” Eddie yelled back wetly. Steve grabbed an extra pack of travel tissues and shoved them in his pocket. He loved his cry baby husband. Speak of the devil, he glanced over his shoulder to watch him come down the steps, and had to suppress a giggle. Eddie was carrying Amelia down with him and both of them were wearing the same thing as Steve: a black button down with dark gray jeans and a pink bow tie. She’d developed a love of dark colors recently, but she still loved her pink. But what got Steve the most, was the hair.

The two of them were sporting matching double dutch braids with plastic roses weaved in. There was an absurd amount of glitter in both their hair and a crazy amount of hair clips. It was obvious that they worked as a team, with Eddie doing the braids and Amelia the accessories. “Dad! You need glitter too!” Amelia shouted. He sighed and knelt down for her to sprinkle his hair with the glitter. “Now we all match!” She jumped out of Eddie’s arms and ran through the garage door and into the car. Steve and Eddie shared a kiss before they followed her.

~~~

They were sitting with the other parents of the kindergartners as they sang their end of year song. They even did a bit of sign language to go along with it. Next was the section where all the kids said what they wanted to be when they grew up.

There were Astronauts, fire fighters, singers, and one very ambitious kid who wanted to be a mermaid scientist. Whether that was studying mermaids or inventing them, Eddie couldn’t tell. But finally it was Amelia’s turn. Eddie took a deep breath, trying his best to stay dry eyed. Steve already handed him a bundle of tissues but he was determined not to use them. That all went out the window the second his little girl spoke.

“Amelia Munson, what do you want to be when you grow up?” Her teacher asked. She smiled and looked at her dads.

“I want to grow up to be a tattoo artist like my papa.” She said. Eddie’s hands flew to his mouth as he gasped. He looked at Steve out of the corner of his eye and saw him pulling out some more tissues before handing them over without a word. He grabbed them gratefully and dabbed at his eyes.

Steve smiled fondly and wrapped his arm around Eddie as he blubbered. The parents around them awed and a few of their parent friends glanced at the pair. Funnily enough, even though Eddie looked like a scary dog, all the parents knew he was a big cry baby when it came to Amelia.

Thinking back to her first day, Eddie remembered how he had cried harder than any of the moms that were there with their kids as the class made their way inside. Steve had to practically drag him away and he made him park across the street for over an hour until they left, “just in case she gets too sad and wants to come home, Steve.” Eddie explained.

If Amelia was sick, he was the one to come pick her up. Not because Steve didn’t care, but it was a lot easier for Eddie to drop everything since he owned the studio he tattooed in. A high school guidance counselor couldn’t exactly drop everything at a moment’s notice.

He knew they had a special bond, the two had a similar background and early childhood. But he never expected their bond to be so special she’d want to grow up to be just like him. The thought filled his heart to bursting.

He looked at Steve and whispered “we really need to get her a cat.” Steve rolled his eyes fondly.

“The puppy wasn’t enough?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56184907

[panickedpenguin]

A harringrove soulmate mark au where Billy goes into a tattoo shop to get the mark on his shoulder covered. He wants a grayscale skull smoking a cigarette. Tattoo artist Steve says sure, lemme see the mark. Billy takes off his jacket to reveal a sleeveless shirt, built shoulders and pink swirl of a mark. It could be a flower or strawberry ice cream or maybe a woman's vulva. Steve knows this because he's thought about it a thousand times, looking at his own mark on his own shoulder.

Steve sees the mark and begins to break down, biting his lip and clutching his arm and trying desperately in that moment to keep it in, he is a professional! But no, Steve can't help it, can't stop it, and absolutely explodes with a roar of laughter! He laughs and laughs and cackles and snickers into his hands until he can compose himself once more, only to look Billy in the eye and start all over again.

Billy scowled at the reaction. Frowned until he huffed and turned around to leave. Steve called wait wait wait, wait!

Billy only fully turns around when he realizes Steve is taking off his button down, revealing tattoos across his chest and arms and something winding down his hip and into his pants. Steve turns sideways and lifts his arm a bit, indicating where to look, and once Billy sees he really can't look anywhere else. For right there, on Steve's shoulder, opposite arm to Billy's own, is his matching mark.

The match to Billy's mark is on this guy's shoulder, circled in a bright sun, spiraling out in a gorgeous mandala effect to highlight the pink mark itself. Billy stared and stared until he looks up to meet Steve's eyes. Billy is roiling in emotion all at once, overrun with fear and finding himself shifting minutely into a defensive stance.

But Steve is just smiling. Smiling and smiling and saying I'll give you the tattoo for free if you have dinner with me.

[steddieunderdogfics]

ink you up by genesisofrhythm

@ruthofrhythm

Rating: Explicit

7,375 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Minor Robin Buckley/Chrissy Cunningham, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives, Chrissy Cunningham Lives, Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson, Semi-Public Sex, Workplace Sex, Getting Together, Making Out, Hand Jobs, Anal Sex, Tattoos

Summary:

“You’re doing okay?” Eddie asked. He was steadily moving the tattoo gun, but Steve knew if he said the word, he’d stop right away. Steve nodded minutely. “Mm hm, I’m fine. All good.” Too good, in fact. Steve was becoming aware of a different sensation now. Steve felt… well, he frankly felt a little turned on. The pain was melding in his brain, mixing with the adrenaline coursing through his body, and creating a very concerning reaction. He thought tattoos were supposed to hurt. What the fuck was this? Or: Turns out the only thing Steve likes more than getting tattooed, is his tattoo artist, Eddie. And he really likes getting tattooed.

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Tattoo Artist AU.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[strangersatellites]

Eddie’s zoned out as he prattles off care instructions and wraps up the man’s (very strong) bicep, careful to tug it tight enough as to not hurt him. 

He’s distracted. Has been for the better part of the past hour. 

Steve’s been the ideal client. Perfect, he might even say. 

Hardly nervous at all as he climbed into the chair and made himself comfortable. No flinching at the needle, and he’s been as easy-going as anything. 

His eyes were heavy lidded and fluttery as the needle pressed into his skin, a soft smile gracing his face as he watched his spitfire little girl flip through Eddie’s books for a design she liked. 

“You find anything you like, baby?” He asked.

Eddie took a pause to peek up at the little redhead across the room. Her hair in two little braids, eyebrows furrowed, and tongue poked out in concentration.

“No, I wanted a dinosaur but these are all flowers and stuff,” She pouted.

Eddie huffed a quiet laugh. 

“Tell you what kiddo,” He stole a glance at Steve, blissed out in the chair. “Since your dad has been such a good sport and you’ve been so good, I’ll draw you up a dinosaur when we’re finished okay?”

Max’s eyes lit up and she giggled behind her hands and nodded.

Now that Steve’s tattoo is done, a pumpkin on the inside of his bicep, he sits up and calls her over.

“Come see, pumpkin.”

And Eddie hadn’t asked, but now, as he watches her bounce across the room and gasp at her dad’s tattoo he feels his face split into a smile.

“Daddy it's me!”

Steve laughs and it's so so lovely. He drops a kiss to the top of her head before he stands. 

“It is you, bug.”

Eddie peels off his gloves and puts his hands on his hips.

“Alright miss lady. Let’s draw you a dinosaur. What kind are you thinking? Stegosaurus, pterodactyl?”

She jumps up with her arms bent to her body and roars. 

“I’m a T-Rex!”

Eddie laughs and gets settled at his table. 

“Alright firecracker, let’s draw you a T-Rex.”

*****

After he’s sketched the outline, a little cartoon dinosaur, he runs it through on his temporary tattoo sheet and sets to “prepping” his station.

He sprays down the chair and tugs on more gloves.

He sits on his stool and pats the chair. 

“Come on up Red.”

She squeals and runs over and Steve hoists her up onto the chair.

In the meantime, Eddie rolls over to his mini-fridge in the corner and grabs the cold rag he’s had in the freezer.

He can hear Steve whisper as he tucks a loose hair behind her ear. 

“You excited, huh? My brave girl.” 

And Eddie’s heart melts. 

He rolls back over and puts on his serious face. 

“Okay Max. You’re gonna feel a sting but you’re a tough girl, aren’t ya?”

She furrows her brows and nods. She rolls up her own sleeve. 

“I’m strong!”

He can’t help but smile. 

“You sure are. Look at those muscles!”

He peels off the plastic covering the ink. 

“Where do you want to put it?” He asks.

She pats her upper arm.

“Here. Just like daddy!”

Eddie grins again and Steve is biting back a smile from his spot behind the chair. Eddie sends him a wink and watches the flush bloom across his cheeks.

“You ready, Red?”

Her focus face is back and she nods resolutely.

Eddie lines up the sheet and sticks it to her arm. She turns her head back towards Steve.

“Daddy? Will you hold my hand?”

As if Eddie’s heart wasn’t already a puddle on the floor.

“Here we go, sweetheart,” Eddie says as he presses the cold rag to her skin.

He hisses through his teeth and grimaces like he’s in pain. He holds back a laugh as she puffs out her cheeks and visibly squeezes her dad’s hand.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” Steve tells her. 

She lets out a sharp little breath as Eddie shifts and presses the rag back against her skin. 

She looks up towards him and giggles. 

“It’s not that bad. I’m tough like daddy.”

He flops the rag back down on his tray and goes to peel the paper away from her skin.

“Yes you are!” He says as he smiles down at her cute little dinosaur, “Do you like it?”

She looks down at it and squeals. 

“Look daddy! Look!”

Steve hoists her up onto his hip and swings her around, giggles filling the space and Eddie’s heart. 

“I love it, pumpkin! You’re the coolest little girl in the whole world!”

He puts her down and she runs around the chair to where Eddie is peeling off his second set of gloves and bumps right up next to him. He furrows his eyebrows and goes to ask what’s wrong when he’s interrupted.

“Look dad! Just like Eddie!”

And now that he looks at it he sees it. Max’s dinosaur is in the same place as her dad’s tattoo. But it’s in the same place as Eddie’s dragon too.

[fuctacles]

I kept forgetting but here are the drawings from Falling into the Deep End by @stevesjockstrap

Tattoo close up:

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 3

of  this post /  Chapter 2 / read it all on ao3 Here

Steve was warm.

He was also naked in a bath that belonged to Eddie.

It was a nice bath, much larger than the one he and Robin rarely used, and full of bubbles that smelled like peppermint.

Eddie told him it would help keep him awake, but also help him stay relaxed.

He was right.

He was also currently making Steve a grilled cheese (his favorite) and letting him listen to music through his phone speaker (his relaxing playlist that he used for his paperwork hours at home). He’d made sure the bath was hot, but not scalding the way Steve usually had it. He didn’t leave the room until Steve was laying in the bath, head resting against the towel Eddie set up along the edge, eyes closed to keep his senses dulled. According to Eddie, that was really important.

He’d lit a few candles and kept them on the side of the sink, then shut off the light before leaving to make Steve’s sandwich.

Steve was still completely unable to speak.

That was more than a little unnerving.

He knew what he needed and wanted to say, but nothing came out.

But he trusted Eddie for some reason. He’d unpack that later.

Maybe.

Probably not.

For a guidance counselor, he wasn’t that great at giving himself guidance. Or counseling.

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

Hey! Progress! He made a noise!

“Got your sandwich,” Eddie held up the plate and smiled at Steve, who had opened his eyes, but hadn’t bothered to lift his head from where it rested against the back of the tub. He was too comfy. “You wanna dry your hands so you can eat?”

He wanted to eat, but he certainly didn’t want to move. His hands were so warm in the water. If he took them out of the bath they’d be cold and probably pruned, which was not attractive.

Not that it mattered if he was attractive, but he didn’t want Eddie to have anything else to add to the list he’d titled ‘Why Steve Harrington Is Not A Catch.’

“Sunshine, you have to eat something.”

Steve sighed. He blinked at Eddie in hopes that he would understand what he was trying to say.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to the tub and lifted the sandwich up to Steve’s mouth.

That wasn’t what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t really argue since he was still apparently nonverbal.

Eddie had briefly explained that that happened a lot during subspace, and sometimes it happened during a drop.

Steve took a bite of the sandwich and groaned.

It was good.

Or maybe he was just really hungry.

Either way, he leaned in to take another bite before he’d even finished chewing the first. He didn’t even care if it was disgusting or rude, he just needed to eat.

“Good boy. But don’t eat too fast, sunshine. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“Mhm.”

Steve relaxed again, letting Eddie hold the sandwich up to his mouth to take a bite every minute or so.

It was nice. Too nice.

Steve had never been taken care of like this. Even when he was with Nancy, she would usually leave him alone when he was sick or tired, not wanting to expend the energy it takes to get him through an illness or exhaustion.

He was a little needy sometimes. He covered it up well after Nancy, not wanting anyone, not even Robin, to know he sometimes needed someone to care for him.

He hadn’t even noticed he drifted off again until Eddie was running his fingers through his barely wet hair.

“C’mon sunshine. Water’s getting too cold. Gotta get you in bed.”

And then he was in what he assumed was Eddie’s bed in what he assumed were Eddie’s clothes in what he assumed was big trouble.

He let himself feel safe.

He hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

– – – – – – – – – –

When he woke up, he was alone.

He was used to being alone.

In fact, a part of his brain told himself he would have been more worried if he wasn’t alone.

But he wasn’t in his bed, which meant at some point very recently he wasn’t alone.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

This was Eddie’s bed. Eddie, the tattoo artist he barely knew, who helped him through whatever the fuck he went through yesterday.

He turned onto his side and nearly fell out of bed when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Eddie was asleep, body curled up facing Steve, but keeping some distance between them. His breathing was slow and quiet, and his body looked relaxed despite the uncomfortable looking position he was in.

Steve watched as Eddie slept, thinking through the events of the night before.

Eddie had known what to do, what he needed, and how to make sure he got it even when he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t taken advantage of him, even though it would have been easy to do with Steve so out of it.

Eddie let out a snore and Steve couldn’t help the endeared smile that crossed his face.

Nope, you stop that right the fuck now, Steven Harrington.

He was about to slap himself in the face to prevent himself from actually having feelings when Eddie’s eyes shot open.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Eddie smiled, and Steve was definitely in trouble.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can get dressed.”

Steve started to sit up, but Eddie reached his hand out to stop him.

“No rush. Seriously, take your time. I don’t have to be at the shop until 12 today.”

Which reminded Steve that it was Sunday, he had nowhere to be, and he was currently very cozy. Maybe he could stay for a little while. Just until he was more awake.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time. You’ve done enough I think.”

“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve felt himself make a face at the name and Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I dunno. Just used to you saying Stevie or Sunshine.”

Eddie smirked at him and Steve felt his stomach drop. Where it dropped to, he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he would ever find it again with the way he felt completely hollowed out.

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Stevie. That was pretty intense last night.”

His tone was serious, but he kept a soft smile on his face, probably to make sure Steve didn’t run away without talking about some of it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about everything. I really wouldn’t have even gotten a tattoo if I thought that would happen.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t control it. How would you have known it would happen?” Eddie raised one brow as if to dare Steve to argue. “Exactly. You didn’t know. I’m glad I was around to help. Hate to think what could’ve happened if it was someone else.”

And, yeah, Steve was worried about that now too. Eddie seemed to know a lot about this, so Steve took this opportunity to ask some questions. He certainly couldn’t ask Robin.

It was a long conversation, and Eddie never talked to him like he was stupid. He was patient and kind, and was honest if he didn’t know the answer to something. He occasionally reached out to brush some of Steve’s hair out of his face or squeeze his hand if he seemed like he couldn’t figure out how to phrase something, bringing him back to the present and keeping his thoughts in order.

They went over how he could prepare for it next time, but Steve said he probably wouldn’t be getting another tattoo anytime soon.

Eddie said he would prefer that he come to him if he did or at least have someone who could help him through it if he went somewhere else.

“So, before the drop…” Steve stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Well, he did, but he didn’t know if actually wanted to say it out loud.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, an encouraging smile pointed at Steve in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Before the drop. I really felt…good. Like I was untouchable and nothing bad could happen. Is that always like that? The subspace thing?”

“I’ve never experienced subspace. I mean, I’ve tried a couple times when I first started messing around with people, but it just didn’t happen for me. But I’ve been with plenty of subs when they’re floating and they describe it like that, yeah. Like you can feel everything and nothing at once, but everything is good. It’s a high you can’t even get from drugs. Which is why the crash from it can be so fucking awful.”

It still didn’t make sense how Steve got to this point, how he had ever reached that high from needles pressing into his skin and Eddie being nice to him, and how he’d fallen so far so fast.

But what Eddie said was exactly how he’d felt the night before. He wasn’t really able to put it into words like Eddie had.

“So will I always drop if I end up there again?”

“Not if you’re with the right person and you can figure out limits and what causes it for you. Everyone is different. For you, it seems like pain might do it, but you would have to be in the right mindset to get there no matter what.”

“I wasn’t really in any type of mindset last night.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like it. But it’s hard to really know when you weren’t expecting it.”

Steve bit his lip. How could he have not known? How did he make it to 27 years old not having a clue?

“Hey.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. “You didn’t know. It’s normal for a lot of people to never know. If you weren’t into the scene before, how would you know? But now you do. And now you just have to be careful in the future. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Steve was gonna die right here in Eddie’s bed. Who the fuck just says shit like that? His heart skipped a beat like in those stupid romance books Nancy used to read.

How dumb.

“Is pouting your natural state?”

Steve pouted harder, bottom lip pushing out as far as he possibly could just to be ridiculous.

It was worth being and feeling ridiculous to hear Eddie’s laugh.

“Listen, I know I just threw a lot at you and you may have more questions. You’ve got my number on that tattoo care sheet, so make sure you call me or text me if you have any questions, okay? And if you want another tattoo and don’t feel comfortable going somewhere else, I’m happy to do it all over again, hopefully without the drop this time.”

“What if I wanted to float again? Without the tattoo.”

Steve should shut his mouth. He really should shut his fucking mouth.

Eddie searched his face, much like he did the night before. What the hell was he looking for?

He glanced behind Steve for a moment and then back at him.

“I’ve gotta get up and get ready. But we have to have a really big talk before I can agree to that.” Steve felt his own face fall, but Eddie quickly continued. “Not because I don’t want to, sunshine. I think you’re at the part of the post-high feeling where you wanna reach it again right away. That can be really bad for you and for me, okay? But I’m done at 7 tonight. You busy?”

Steve was never busy on the weekends unless Robin was dragging him to a club and he’d be damned if he tried to go to a club instead of being with Eddie.

Which is another thing he probably should start unpacking very soon.

“No. I have work at 7:30 in the morning though.”

“Ah, right. Guidance counselor.” Eddie smirked. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight except talking. You could also…bring stuff to spend the night here if you want.”

Eddie seemed incredibly nervous to even suggest it, and maybe if it was anyone else, Steve would’ve laughed and ran out the door, never to look back at the batshit insane person trying to have him spend the night within 24 hours of knowing him.

But Steve thought about how well he slept in Eddie’s bed with Eddie last night, and he thought about how his bed was pretty lonely, and how maybe waking up here again would make him feel better about having to exist on Monday.

“Yeah. I could do that.”

Eddie’s answering smile was nothing short of blinding.

“Great! Okay. Let’s head on back to the shop so you can get your car. Is Robin home?”

“Probably. She’s probably waiting to see my name on the news with the headline “Dead Body of Idiot Man Trying To Get First Tattoo Found” and a picture of me from the yearbook.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

It was nice.

Usually, Steve got annoyed when people laughed so loudly, but Eddie’s was nice.

Eddie was nice.

“So. 7?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

— — — — — — — — — —

Eddie didn’t let Steve stray far while they got ready to leave.

Steve would never admit how much he loved it.

During the drive back to the shop, Eddie played music Steve had never heard, and probably never would have if not for him. He didn’t exactly like it, but he didn’t mind it, especially when he watched Eddie sing along with a passion Steve hadn’t really ever felt.

They didn’t need to talk and Steve didn’t feel pressured to try.

He hadn’t felt so comfortable around someone since he first met Robin, and he was holding onto the panic he knew was coming when he was alone.

He was still feeling tired. His emotions had been on a hell of a journey over the last 18 hours, and Eddie had already warned him he probably would be feeling the effects of it all for another day or so.

But Eddie also explained that without the drop, it’s worth it.

He wanted to know what that felt like.

And he wanted to know what it felt like with Eddie.

So when they arrived at the shop and said goodbye, Eddie hugged him tightly, holding him against his chest. Steve wasn’t much shorter than him, but he managed to fold himself into him without being uncomfortable, resting his face against his collarbone and breathing in the scent he was already addicted to.

They separated, but neither seemed ready or willing to.

Did Eddie feel this pull the way Steve did? Was Steve just attaching himself to someone who helped him through his most vulnerable time?

As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to find Eddie staring after him, keeping eyes on him as he walked to his car. He was frowning.

Maybe he did feel as much as Steve. 

Chapter 4

TAG LIST:  @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine

[hbyrde36]

Beginning April 3rd!

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang and featuring art by @glitterfang

Not for the first time, Eddie was really regretting his decision to book a client on a Friday night, and a new client at that. 

It wasn’t as if he had anything better to do, exactly. There were no dates on his calendar, and going out to random bars and clubs on the weekends to look for quick hookups had begun losing its appeal lately.

But it’d been a long week, and he’d much rather have been getting ready to plop down on the couch with Chrissy to split a bottle of red wine while they watched Drag Race, than preparing to do a cover up for some idiot who’d gotten their girlfriend’s name tattooed on his body, only to fall victim to—The Curse. 

Ask any tattoo artist and they’d be the first to tell you, there was no surer way to guarantee a breakup than to ink your significant other’s name on your body forever.

  And yeah, it probably wasn’t fair to judge the guy before they’d even met, but there were only two kinds of people who tended to make that particular mistake—dumbasses, and hopeless romantics. He just kind of assumed his client fell into the former camp, rather than the latter.