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Eddie: What's the craziest thing you've ever done to be with your crush?
Steve: Tell them that I don't know how to roll a joint so they'll do it for me and I can spend a few extra minutes with them
Eddie: Craziest thing I've ever done is throw myself in lover's lake to save- wait, why are you having me roll joints for you when you could ask your crush?
After getting out of the hospital, Eddie and Steve somehow fell into a whirlwind romance and now they have an apartment together! Eddie is still riding the high of it all one day when he has someone from his new job over and they say “Are you sure Steve lives here?”
“Huh?”
“It’s just, this apartment is extremely you but I’m not seeing anything that says ‘Steve.’ Granted I don’t know the guy too well, but…”
Eddie looks around. Sees a lot of metal and fantasy shit, a lot of dark colors. He knows if he went into the bedroom he would find Steve’s colorful wardrobe and the kitchen is stocked with dishes and utensils that Steve picked out himself but that’s it. Theres not a single sports thing to be found and not a single poster or tape related to anything other than metal.
He’s not sure what to make of it. Brings it up to Steve later, asks why there’s nothing that Steve likes around the apartment. And Steve says something devastating.
He says it all nonchalant, too. Big smile on his face, eyes crinkled, something amused in his expression. He's got a hand extended to Eddie, to bring him to bed so they can just sleep and everything will be fine.
But then Eddie has this defiant, fight this, furrow between his brows. "No, it absolutely does matter. What happened to all your baseball cards? And the...the little model cars? You had so many of those in your old bedroom!"
Steve just shrugs. "Got rid of 'em, I guess."
"...Why?"
"Like I said, Eds, it doesn't matter," Steve repeats, exasperated. He shuffles down under the covers—thick and black and all Eddie. "Come to bed, I'm sleepy."
Every single time Eddie goes to the store, he picks up a pack of Topps and makes Steve open them up at the kitchen table. And when Steve gets excited, but tries to immediately smother himself, Eddie leans in and asks what's special. Then, it's the model cars from the toy store. The Lego sets from the Mall of America when they take a trip through Minnesota. Hall & Oates tapes from the record store, Tom Cruise on VHS, Beatles records that Steve reminisces on from when he was little and danced with his mom. Gym equipment that Steve was afraid would, "Take up too much space."
And he says that a lot, too. Steve always mentions, "Are you sure I should bring this into the apartment? This might take up too much space." He says it about anything he's interested in, no matter what. Eddie always has to drag him through the store, force him to buy the thing, take him back home, and create space for Steve.
Soon, their apartment is warmer, fuller. It's all mismatched and wild colored, but Eddie doesn't mind. Because Steve matters to him. And this is their space.
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Eddie drops onto Steve's lap.
Eddie *drunk*: You want to know who my secret crush is?
Steve: You're drunk; I'm not sure you want to tell me your secret...
Eddie: Harrington.
Steve: What?
Eddie: I have a crush on Steve, but don't tell him...
Prompt Day 17: Answering Machine | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: G | CW: None | POV: omniscent | Pairing(s): implied steddie | Tags: told entirely through answering machine messages, corroded coffin love to gossip, steve and eddie meet at the fateful halloween party au
November 1st, 1984 – 09:48
“Um. Shit. Wasn’t expecting the machine. Hey Harrington. It’s Ed–Munson. Um. Hopefully your parents don’t listen to this, but I think you said they were away right? Um, anyway, I just wanted to, I dunno, make sure you’re okay? Break-ups suck. If you ever need someone to hang out with again–nevermind, of course you don’t need any loser friends. Anyway, yeah, hope you’re okay, don’t, uh, don’t feel like you have to call me back or anything. See ya.”
November 1st, 1984 – 17:09
“Eddieeeeee, it’s Jeff, pick up dude. Pick up. Pick up–okay fine. Where’d you disappear to last night? We still on for band practice tomorrow night? Call me back.”
November 6th, 1984 – 21:21
“Hey Eddie. It’s, uh, Steve. Harrington. Sorry it’s taken me so long to return your call, I’ve… I’ve had a few things going on. Thanks though, thanks for hanging out with me on Halloween and, like, taking care of me or whatever. I just… thanks again man. See you at school.”
November 7th, 1984 – 15:55
“Harrington, holy shit dude, I really hope I’m not getting your machine because you’ve collapsed in a heap at home with, like, your brain melting out your ears or something? You looked like shit at school today, and I mean that with, like, concern, not as an insult. Um. Yeah. Just–if you need any, like, pain relief or something, I’ve got you covered, just say the word. It’s, uh, Eddie–Munson, Eddie Munson. Okay. Bye.”
November 7th, 1984 – 15:57
“Hey dude, it’s Gareth, why is your line still engaged? I’ve tried you like three times. Did you see Harrington’s face today? Holyyyyyy sheeeeet, he looked like he’s been through a meat grinder. Call me back.”
November 7th, 1984 – 15:59
“Edward. Yo. It’s Freak. You see the Kings’ shiner today? Heard it was Billy Hargrove. Bro is an animal.”
November 7th, 1984 – 16:15
“Hey, it’s Jeff. You picking me up at six? I got you Red Vines.”
November 8th, 1984 – 11:36
“Hi Eddie, it’s Steve. I’m hoping getting your machine means you’re back at school. You shouldn’t miss any more class. But, uh, thanks for driving me home. I’m going to take tomorrow off too. Let me know when you’re free so I can buy you a six-pack as a thanks.”
June 17th, 1985 – 19:43
“Edward, it’s Freak. I’ve got two words for you; Scoops Ahoy.”
June 18th, 1985 – 10:06
“Hey, it’s Jeff. I was at Starcourt today getting a lamp and checking out the yoga chicks, as one does – did you know Steve Harrington is working at Scoops Ahoy? Oh Eddie boy, oh how the mighty have fallen. Hey, weren’t you two kinda hanging out there for a bit last year?”
June 22nd, 1985 – 18:53
“Eddieeee, where are you man? It’s Gareth, I’ve got the best news! I’ve got us a gig at The Hideout! It’s for July 3rd. The manager I spoke to says if it goes well it could turn into a regular spot. We need to strategise – call me back!”
June 30th, 1985 – 20:14
“Hey Eddie, it’s Steve. I checked my roster at work, and I can definitely make it to your first show! Gonna try and convince Buckley to come, because she’s cool and nerdy like you guys, and you’re all cool with each other, so cred points for me with your friends. Should I bring anything? Should I wear a Corroded Coffin shirt? I will, you know, zero shame. Call me when you get home, I wanna hear how rehearsal went.”
July 2nd, 1985 – 17:03
“Yooooo, Edward. It’s Freak. I got that amp from my cousin, it’s much better than that one with the dodgy cable. Swing by after dinner and we can load it in the van? Buzz me back when you get this.”
July 2nd, 1985 – 22:53
“Hey Steve-o, it’s Eddie. I thought you’d be home by now, but I’m guessing you have been overrun by the army of evil children demanding the SS Butterscotch. It is, after all, an ocean of flavour. Anyway, we’re going on at nine tomorrow night. I’m… I’m really glad you’re coming. I’ll tell you a secret, Stevie, just between you, me, and your answering machine. I’m nervous. Promise you’ll tell me your grandma rocks harder than me or something to keep my head on straight, yeah? I hope work wasn’t too shitty, see you tomorrow night.”
July 3rd, 1985 – 23:27
“Hey Stevie, it’s Eddie. I didn’t see you at the show tonight, and the crowd was like twenty drunks, so I reckon I would have spotted you. You okay? Call me.”
July 4th, 1985 – 13:04
“Howdy Ed, it’s Jeff. I heard from Gareth – The Hideout manager liked our set! He’s open to giving us a regular spot. How good, yeah?! Also, we’re having a barbecue later – mom said to come over, and bring Wayne. Okay, bye.”
July 4th, 1985 – 21:18
“Hey Steve. Is everything okay? Call me back.”
July 5th, 1985 – 22:20
“Steve-o, you’re starting to worry me. Is this the shit you ‘can’t talk about’? Call me back, please.”
July 6th, 1985 – 23:45
“Harrington. It’s Eddie. I’m pretty sure I’ve filled your answering machine after this message. At this point, I’d really just love word you’re alive, but I can take a hint. I thought you wanted–that you–um. Anyway. See you round.”
March 25th, 1986 – 16:56
“Um, hi. This is Jeff Best. Steve, if you get this…have you seen Eddie? He always says you guys don’t talk anymore, but I don’t know who else to call. Jason Carver has lost his mind, and–and I’m worried. I– Jesus, I don’t know why I bothered calling you, actually. You didn’t show up for him before, why would you now?”
April 3rd, 1986 – 14:31
“Hi Mr Munson, it’s Steve. Get back here when you get this – he’s awake.”
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One thing Steve liked about his barista job was the free drinks and if anyone asked that's what he'd tell them...but another thing he liked was that there was a Waffle House right next door. You might think it was for the food but it was actually for one specific worker; Eddie.
Steve had met Eddie early on in his job. The man came in right at opening, uniform on and long, curly locks tied into a bun with chunks of hair falling loose. Steve was immediately attracted to him and quickly went to the register to take his order, his coworker Robin sideyeing his pace. After he had put in the ridiculously caffeinated drink he wanted to make small talk.
"You about to start your shift?"
"No actually, just getting off," the man had replied.
"Oh! So you work the graveyard shift?" The man nodded as Steve handed him his drink mourning how fast it came out, signalling the end of their chat.
Steve eyed the drink, "When are you planning on sleeping?" The other man laughed and he thought it was an amazing sound, especially at 5 in the morning.
"Not sure," he said with a shrug. "Well, thanks. Have a good shift," he said, smiling and walking out.
After that he started coming back often, always right when Steve got in and the store opened, always at the end of his own shift. Steve learned his name was Eddie and overtime their chats got longer. Either because Robin would do him a solid and take her sweet time making his drink or because Eddie would stand around and chat for a while, drink in hand.
At some point, Eddie's hours got switched around and he started working around the same time as Steve which meant it was harder for him to come in and get a drink. Which led Steve to...finding ways to see him anyway.
Sometimes they would mess up drinks and instead of just throwing those away Steve started walking over to the Waffle House and offering them to the workers. And if he briefly chatted with Eddie that was totally normal!
But that turned into Steve maybe kinda purposely messing up drinks to go over more often. It was becoming obvious, to say the least. It was an ongoing joke with all of Steve's coworkers and he didn't want to imagine if it was one at Waffle House too.
Finally, one day Steve was walking into Eddie's job once again with a 'mess up' drink in hand that was suspiciously close to Eddie's own order.
"Hey, Eds! I have a drink for you."
"Oh, you do, huh?" Eddie asked. He had this tone lately that was either heavy flirting or mocking of Steve's obvious interest. He hoped it was the former.
"Yeah, someone ordered a drink really close to yours and I guess I found myself making yours by mistake. Muscle memory or whatever," he said, handing it to the other man who had a smug smile.
"You know, my coworkers-" he pointed towards his friends, Gareth and Jeff. "think these mess up drinks aren't really mess up drinks."
"Oh?" The jig was up, they were finally going to address the elephant in the room.
"Yeah, they seem to think you're just looking for an excuse to talk to me." Steve was silent, a little embarassingly unsure of what to say as Eddie and his coworkers looked on expectantly.
"But to be fair, I couldn't judge you if you were because I only got coffee after my graveyard shifts to see you." Oh. Steve hadn't even considered that possibility.
"You did?"
"Well, not the first time but every time after? Yeah. Why would I need that much caffeine after staying up all night? It's actually why I had to switch shifts. I was barely getting any sleep." Steve chuckled in disbelief. "So I wouldn't judge you if you were, say, making these drinks just to get to talk to me. In fact, it'd make me really happy," Eddie said, pulling a strand of hair in front of his face, covering a cheesy grin.
"Yeah?" Steve asked, a bit of cockiness seeping into his tone. "Well, that's good because I actually did just make this drink for you. No one is ordering anything close to this monstrosity." Eddie let out a loud, surprised laugh.
"So maybe we should try and talk when neither of us are working? Say, tomorrow night?"
"Yeah, yeah that sounds great. I think if I damaged out any more 'mess up' drinks my boss might fire me...or sue me at this point."
Eddie laughed, "Well we wouldn't want that you're one of the best parts of this job."
Steve smiled wide, "I know exactly what you mean."
Fin!
based off my last job that was a coffee shop next to a waffle house. we did get people coming off night shift buying coffee (we called one batman) and we did give them mess up drinks. i however didn't have a gay romance with any waffle house worker, tragically.
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Steve has been thinking about getting a tattoo. Since they started dating a few years back, his boyfriend has practically covered his own body in ink. On the couch, when they're cuddled up, he loves tracing Eddie's tattoos, asking about each one, and hearing why they're special to him. He wants something like that, a place on his body to immortalize the most important thing in his life.
"I've been thinking, maybe I should get a tattoo," he says as nonchalantly as possible, as his fingers follow the sweep of each bat.
Below him, Eddie bolts upright, his head almost colliding with Steve's chin. A look of deep concern has overtaken his face as he asks tentatively, "where?"
"Where? What do you mean where? I'd just go to your guy."
"No, where on your body do you want a tattoo?"
"I was thinking..." Steve trailed off. In reality, he hasn't thought it through that far. He doesn't really even have a design in mind, let alone a placement, so he offered his own forearm to Eddie. "Here maybe."
"Oh no, no no no," Eddie insists with a shake of his head, "not there. You can't cover up your best freckles."
"Okay, fine. What about here?" Steve asks, pulling up his shirt to expose his torso, his hand vaguely gesturing to his chest awash in hair.
"Absolutely not! It's not worth the risk."
"The risk? You said tattoos are perfectly safe."
"Yeah, they are. But shaving your chest isn't. What if some of the hair doesn't grow back?" Eddie explains as he runs his fingers through the dark thicket. " That's not a risk I'm willing to let you take, Stevie."
A deep laugh erupts from Steve as he hikes up one leg of his sweatpants. "What about here then?" he inquires, gesturing to his upper thigh, though he knows the answer before Eddie even speaks.
"But my favorite mole is on that thigh, you wouldn't take one of my favorite moles from me, would you?" Eddie's eyes are puppy dog big, as he tilts his head to one side. "And before you even suggest it, my second and third favorite moles are on your other thigh."
They search the rest of his body together, finding a problem with each and every spot, until Eddie announces with great exasperation, "face it, sweetheart, you're already a work of art."
A groan escapes Steve's lips at the cheesy compliment yet he can't help but lean over to kiss his boyfriend, his hands wrapping their way around the creatures creeping up Eddie's neck, until Eddie's lips break from his long enough to say, "unless you want to get a lower back tattoo. I've always thought Michelangelo's David would look even hotter with a tramp stamp. Maybe 'Property of Eddie Munson'?"
"Oh, fuck off!" Steve grumbles as he pushes his boyfriend down onto the couch.
"Don't like that one? We can workshop it," Eddie manages to get out before Steve's lips silence them both.
