#fundamental differing

You snort as you toss the Newsweek paper on your kitchen table for Eddie to see. The picture, of course, was staged by you and Eddie: Him in Ozzy-esque sunglasses, hair tied back, in regular clothing wrapped around you, an iced coffee in his free hand. You’re in jeans and Corroded Coffin t-shirt, snuggled into Eddie’s embrace as you sip on your own drink, a toothy smile on your face. You’d called Ralphie, a paparazzo in Boston that you’d grown close to, to break the story. He was more than happy to do it, knowing these photos would likely pay his rent for the foreseeable future.

“Think they’ll buy it?” Eddie muses, sipping his coffee.

“What’s to buy? It’s true. Maybe a bit exaggerated, but that’s just Hollywood.” You shrug, flipping the pancake on the griddle. “Chocolate chips?”

Eddie nods, rising from his seat to wrap his arms around your waist. “I need this tour to be over. I prefer waking up in a stationary bed.”

“Mmm,” You make a sound of agreement, resting your head on his as comfortably as you can without leaving the stove. “Only a couple more weeks and we’re home free.”

“Where is home, exactly?”

You don’t miss a beat. “Wherever, as long as it’s with you.”

He snorts. “Such a sap.”

“Huh, wonder who made me this way.” You giggle, poking his cheek. “You think we can put this whole thing to bed now?” You study the magazine article, rolling your eyes at their word choice: scruffy, angsty, disheveled. 

“Maybe, but there’s something else I wanna put to bed instead.” He waggles his eyebrows at you. Pretending not to squirm at his flirting, you rise from your seat at the table, clearing his empty plate and your own. 

“Though I am absolutely picking up what you’re putting down, I have shit to do today.”

He pouts, batting his big, brown eyes at you. “What could possibly be more important?”

–

“This fuckin’ sucks.” Eddie kicks the gravel from the sidewalk outside the mechanic. “I didn’t even know you still had a car.”

You shrug. “I like to keep my life outside of being a rockstar pretty normal. Unfortunately that includes taking my dad’s car in for routine maintenance.”

“I coulda taken a look for him, yknow?”

“Psh, right. Ask the rockstar to change the oil in my dad’s camaro.” “My life is not too glamorous to do my favorite person a favor.” There’s no humor in his tone, he genuinely wouldn’t mind getting his hands dirty for you. 

“While I appreciate that, my dad would never let anyone besides Theo and himself touch that thing. You know how many times I begged him to let me take it out?”

Eddie snorts. “I remember. And the one time he finally let you, it came back with the tiniest scratch and he’d grounded you for a month.”

“Theo was the one to fix it, and the one to talk him out of a harsher punishment.”

“And despite already being eighteen, you didn’t go out at all that entire month.”

You frown, because he’s right. “God, I’m such a fake punk!”

“Yeah. Total poser.” He shoves your shoulder playfully.

“Well, she’s all set, kid.” Theo strolls up to where you and Eddie are talking, wiping his hands on a stained rag.

“Thanks, Theo.” You fork a handful of cash in his direction. 

“No biggie. Anything for the biggest Boston rockstah I know. And I know a few, ya know, Steven Tyla…” He definitely doesn’t know Steven Tyler, but you’d seen him at a couple parties. 

“Yeah, for sure.” 

“Before ya go, though. Would yas mind signin’ somethin’ for my kids? They’a huge fans. Daughta can’t get enough o’ya.”

“‘Course, sir!” Eddie beams at the recognition, and your heart skips. He really is still living a dream. You nod in agreement, and Theo pulls out a receipt book that he hands you, along with the pen behind his ear. You sign the top corner, 

Thanks for listening, hope to see ya at the gig! and scribble your signature before passing it to Eddie. You peek over his shoulder and watch him scribble,

Keep rock n roll alive! and his big, blocky EDDIE. “How old are your kids?” Eddie looks up, meeting Theo’s eyes. 

“Eighteen and twenty.”

“Do they wanna come see us? We have a show here in about a month.” 

“Seriously?” Theo’s eyes light up, and you can't help but be awed by Eddie’s gesture. 

“You can too, if you want! I dunno if you listen to that type of music, but…”

“You can't tell my kids, but I'm actually a really big fan of both you guys’ stuff.” He lights up as he says it, and it makes you teary. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to this part, the effect you can have on other, real people. 

“Your secret’s safe with us, man.” Eddie offers out his hand, which Theo shakes enthusiastically. “We’ll see ya!”

—

Eddie’s POV

“That was a really nice thing to offer.” You nudge him, approaching the door to your parents’ house. 

Eddie shrugs off his vest and lays it over the arm of your couch. “Least I could do. We should probably let Steve know to add three to the guest list. You get his kids’ names?”

“Shit. No, but I can ask my dad.”

He nods, still standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room. “Well, uh. What else did you need to do today?” He can’t see what else needs to be done. You’d gone grocery shopping yesterday, and your parents’ place is pretty set for the week. He remembers trailing behind you: dressed in sinfully short shorts and white tank top while he managed to sweat in the freezer section, even if only in a tank top himself.

 The house is clean— with the help of your parents, but mostly because you’ve been anxiously cleaning since this morning. He had tried to help, but ultimately had to excuse himself when you bent over the kitchen counter to wipe it down. 

He wants to touch you. It’s driving him fucking crazy, he hasn’t been able to. He’s starting to feel like maybe you’re avoiding him, though you’ve given no indication that you’re not interested in having sex with him again. His brain is just telling him that. He hopes. 

Even right now, in a sundress and sneakers, he wishes he could bring himself to take you to the alley behind the mechanic’s. But neither of you have made a move. Eddie’s not even sure he’s entitled to. Everything has been on your terms, and he hasn’t had a problem with it. He owes you that, right?

You glance at your watch and shrug. “Dad’s doing an overnight, and my mom’s away on some business trip as of this morning.” 

“Are you implying what I think you are?” He focuses on the wall behind you to keep his pants from tightening.

“Horror movie marathon? Like old times?” If it weren’t for the hope in your voice, he’d accuse you of being cruel.

So he meets your eyes again and stretches his smile as wide as it’ll go. “Of course, sweetheart.”

—

You’re trying to kill him. You must be trying to fucking kill him.

“Whipped cream?” You offer out the can with a mouthful, a bit of cream landing on his cheek. Fighting the urge to use your outstretched arm to pull you into him, Eddie opens his mouth without breaking eye contact. Two can play this fuckin’ game, he thinks. Unfortunately the giggle that slips through your lips makes his knees wobble. 

“So, I have plenty of movies to choose from. Never brought ‘em when I moved out, guess they kept them all safe for me.” You glide over to the crates of tapes next to your television, neatly organized with their titles facing outward. “You in the mood for something really scary first, or something more along the lines of a horror-comedy?”

He’s in the mood for you, truthfully. The short cotton shorts and camisole you’re wearing aren’t helping that, either. “Ed?”

“Hm? Oh, uh, either one’s fine.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, and through his flushing cheeks he manages to smile back. Through gritted teeth, albeit. 

“You’re being weird.”

“Am not. What about Possession?” An attempt to dodge the subject. 

You seem to let the subject slide, plucking the tape from its case. “Possession it is.” 

The TV yawns to life, and you place the tape into the player, making sure it's been rewound before pressing play. 

“You gonna sit with me, or are you gonna keep being weird?” He rolls his eyes, collapsing on the opposite side of where you are. “Got it.” 

Half of the movie is spent like that, Eddie resisting the nagging voice in the back of his head, begging him to tug you by your ankle onto his lap. You seem blissfully unaware of his internal crisis, munching on microwave popcorn as the TV illuminates the frightened expression on your pretty face. You retreat under the blanket when the scene before you gets to be too much, and for some reason it springs Eddie into action. He crawls from his side of the couch slowly, doing his best not to spook you, and curls his body into your blanket covered form.

“Hello?”

“Hi.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Protecting you from the scary movie.”

“My knight in shining armor.” Your body shakes with laughter, and he joins you. When you stop, you start flailing under the blanket, causing Eddie to release you so you can shove the cloth off your head. You inhale the fresh air deeply before once again descending into a fit of giggles.

“I think we’re safe now.” Eddie looks around dramatically, curly flying on either side of his face. 

“Thanks for rescuing me.” You crane your neck up to reach his cheek, placing a tender kiss against his hot skin. “However shall I repay such a noble act?”

Eddie groans under the heat of your breath against his cheek. “You’re killin’ me, doll.”

“Oh?”

“Gonna make me bust in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager.”

–

Your POV

His words propel you into action, quickly moving to straddle his lap, clad only in a pair of gray sweatpants. You can feel his length underneath you, twitching when you make the gentlest of contact. “And here I thought you didn’t wanna fuck me.” 

“What?” Eddie halts the beginning of your movement, grasping your hips to keep you in place. “What god awful crime could I have committed in the last week to make you think such a terrible thing?” He looks at you with a pout, his eyes dark with want, or maybe hurt. 

“It’s what you didn’t do, actually. I was walkin’ around the house in my underwear, Ed! And don’t even get me started on the shorts I wore to the grocery store.”

“You don’t have to remind me.” His breath is labored, like he’s just run a marathon. You grind your hips forward experimentally, and he whimpers in response. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Jus’ wasn’t sure it was the ri- fuck– right time, y’know?” Your grinding has become more consistent, still slow as the clothed tip of his cock prods teasingly against your throbbing clit.

“Mmm, such a gentleman all of a sudden?” You tease, making sure each word is barely audible, said so closely that each of your breaths tickles the fine hairs of his ear canal. “Where’s the spoiled rockstar that takes whatever he wants, whenever he wants, hm?” You’re being mean, but Eddie squirming and panting underneath you spurs you on. “You just gonna let me tease you like that while you mope because you can't touch me? Because it would be, what? Wrong? You’ve never cared about that shit before.”

“Didn’t wanna ruin anything, didn’t want you gettin’ the idea that I–” He stops short.

“Finish your sentence.” It’s a command. You don’t usually take the dominant role over Eddie in these situations, but you don’t hate the way it’s making you feel.

“Didn’t want you thinkin’ I oh- only wanted sex..” His voice is raspy with want, with need, for you, and you’ve never been good at denying him of it.

“But you do, right? You want sex?”

“I want your trust first.” His eyes bore into you as he says it. 

“Eddie,” You sigh, breaking character to caress his sweaty, flushed face. “You have my trust.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I would’ve kicked you out by now if you didn’t.” Eddie throws his head back to laugh, but it comes out strangled when you grind down on his lap again. “So, now that that’s out of the way…” Before you can finish the thought, Eddie lurches forward, one hand to the back of your neck as the other wraps around your waist, bringing your body closer to his as your lips meet. Your tongue slips sweetly into his waiting mouth, coaxing a groan from his throat that you feel between your legs. 

The movie playing behind you is long forgotten, now white noise as Eddie slips the strap of your tank top down your arm, calloused fingers gliding over your soft skin. Despite your earlier candidness, he’s being slow. Gentle. Almost cautious. In a way, it feels like revenge for the way you’d been teasing him, and you can’t help but relish the way it works you up. 

Eddie finally breaks your kiss, giving you time to breathe while he sloppily mouths your throat, eagerly adding teeth when you roll your hips forward again. His hands have a mind of their own, tugging at the fabric of your tank top until it's bunched at your waist, exposing your chest to the warmth of Eddie’s hot, panting breaths. At this point you’re practically riding his lap, begging for friction as he takes his time with you, like he’s memorizing every inch. 

“Ed, please,” Your voice is strained, broken and shameless.

“What do you need, baby?” He coos, sending you into a tizzy. 

“Need you to touch me.”

“I am touchin’ you, sweetheart.” He runs his finger down your arm with a feather light touch, barely registering over the way your entire body is vibrating. 

“You know what I mean.” You’re pouting, getting desperate. “Thought you wanted to.”

“Hey,” His eyes darken as he stills the rocking of your hips with firm hands. “I want to. But what’s the rush, huh? We’ve got so much time now. All night, even.” His voice holds an air of mischief, and you’re putty in his hands. 

“You gonna tease me like this all night? You don’t have the willpower.” You wriggle in his grasp for emphasis, and he muffles his groan with gritted teeth. You cross your arms over your bare chest, huffing smugly. “At least take your shirt off?”

–

Eddie’s POV

He can’t resist the way you ask, pleading with him to give you something. Eagerly he complies, yanking his shirt over his head and tossing it lacklusterly aside somewhere in your living room. “Get that later.” He laughs breathily, and you lunge at him. Before he can adjust to your weight, your teeth have sunken into his neck, contrasting with the plush of your lips placing wet kisses along the column of his throat. Your tongue soothes over the sore marks your teeth have left indented in his skin, branding him as yours. He finds himself excited for the next time he’ll go out in public, wearing the hickies you’ve given him like designer accessories. 

“You wanna go upstairs?” You mumble the question between placing chaste kisses on his shoulder. 

“I dunno, I’m kinda set on the idea of you riding me on the couch.” 

“Eddie, this is my parents’ house.”

“I’ll buy them a new couch.” Before you can argue, he pulls you forward by the neck, his lips slotting into your like puzzle pieces. You seem to give in, letting him win the argument. He can get a couch here by tomorrow if he has to.

–

Your POV

You readjust, sliding the tank top and your shorts quickly from your body, tossing them over the arm of the sofa before claiming your former position, this time with less layers between your throbbing clit and the tip of his leaking cock. 

Before you can work him up too much more, Eddie’s hands are sliding down your form, stopping to lightly twist and pinch at your nipples, chuckling at the way you whine and mewl for him. Replacing one hand with his mouth, Eddie then slips his free fingers to the waistband of your panties, snapping them once and causing you to jump before dipping lower to gather your slick before rubbing agonizing circles on your clit. 

“Jesus, angel, you’re fuckin’ soaked.” His pupils are blown as you’re sure your own are, looking at you with a lovely mixture of lust and love. 

“What can I say, you do it f’me.” You aren’t trying to be sexy, it’s the truth. Eddie doesn’t have to do much to turn you on.

“Feeling’s mutual, doll. Gettin’ me all hot ‘n bothered.” His breath is labored as he speaks, and you can feel his heart racing as you press yourself further into his chest. “Need to be inside you, love. Don’t think I can take much more teasing.” You can’t resist his desperation. You move quickly, letting him shove his sweatpants, now with a damp spot staining the crotch, and his boxers to the ground. His cock springs free from the confines and slaps against his stomach, precum dampening the coarse hair of his happy trail. You lick your lips absentmindedly, and before you can drop to your knees in front of him, Eddie grabs your wrist, pulling you back into his lap. 

“Wait, Ed I’m still– oh, f-fuck.” Eddie drags the tip of his dick against the damp cloth of your panties, causing a sensation that ripples through your core. 

“You gonna say somethin’?” He’s taken control, stroking himself against your hole, fabric doing nothing to cease the waves of pleasure crashing through you. “Use your words, baby.” He’s chiding, condescending as you can only whine in response, the heat between your legs seemingly cutting off the communication between your brain and your tongue. “Tell me what you want, can’t read your mind.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby, please.” The words fall out without decorum, desperate and high pitched like you’re being tortured. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Such a good job.” Relief floods your senses when he pulls your panties to the side, sliding himself easily into your drenched hole. You both moan at the feeling, your walls clenching around his thick cock, his grip a vice on either side of you, not yet ready to let you move. You can only shake your head, too cock drunk to form a coherent sentence. Usually, he’d scold you for not speaking, make it harder for you to get off, but you can tell he’s just as desperate to fuck you, possibly even more than you are. “Need you to move.” He tries to keep his voice even, but you can hear it’s close to breaking, begging. You obey, rocking your hips, rolling forward, each movement accompanied by his own, the head of his dick pressing against the sweet spot inside you each time.

“Feels so good, darlin’, takin’ me s- so well.” He knows you value his praise, regardless of how difficult it is to give it between labored breaths. 

“Missed you, Ed.” You sigh the words, brain too fuzzy to muster up the strength to properly speak to him. 

“I missed you, baby.” Eddie’s head falls into the crook of your neck, kissing the marks he’d previously left on your throat while you continue to ride him. “Not gonna last much longer. Need you to cum for me. Please, I need you to cum.” His fingers find your clit without struggle, like he’s memorized the map of your body. He makes tight, quick circles on your clit as he continues thrusting inside of you, and your walls clench more tightly around him as you feel your orgasm climbing. Finally, as Eddie has pulled your face into his, crashing your lips together as his hand and hips stay moving, you fall apart on top of him, legs shaking on either side of his lap as he watches you ride it out, mesmerized by the look of you; sweaty, panting, bouncing on top of him. You’re still shuddering when Eddie lets go, head buried in your neck as his thrusts lose rhythm and grow eager, no longer worried about getting you off. His noises are guttural, coming from the deep recesses of his body. He spills his load inside you, his cum painting your walls as he mutters sweet nothings: “Fuck, shit, you’re perfect, missed this pussy so much, like it’s made for me, ‘s all mine, mine, mine…”

When he’s emptied himself, body heaving with each breath, Eddie lifts you off of his lap, both of you wincing as he slowly pulls out. “Shit!” You fall into a fit of giggles as your bare butt falls onto the couch next to him, suddenly shy about being naked in front of him. He joins you, cackling as you wipe the sweat from your brow with an exaggerated “Phew!” 

“Why weren’t we doin’ that all week?” He says through laughter, and you shrug. 

“Probably because other people live here?”

–

July 1991

Eddie’s POV

It’s been a whole year since he’d seen you, but there you were. Right in front of him, dancing with a small redhead covered in tattoos, a plastic cup in one hand, the other in the air. He already knows he won’t go over, won’t approach you, or even try to violate your field of vision. But he can’t bring himself to look away from you, the way your shirt clings to your body perfectly, the way your skirt lands right below the curve of your ass, your exposed legs going on for miles. He drinks you in from afar, without caring how creepy it feels, seeing you without your knowledge, It’s day eighty nine, but Eddie turns to the bartender and orders a drink.

–

Present Day

Your POV

It just doesn’t make sense. If Steve had known about Eddie’s problem like he claims, then why on earth had he let him drink himself stupid? Your brain tries to rationalize your best friend’s choice, but you come up with nothing. There is no good reason for what Steve did. Didn’t he pride himself on taking care of his friends?

You sit up as the bus starts moving, preparing to confront Steve before quickly remembering he’s on the other bus. Instead, you find Robin reading a beaten copy of On The Road in the breakfast nook, and drop down beside her, sighing.

She glances up but doesn’t speak, eyebrow cocked as you pout for her full attention. She dog ears her page, making a show of sitting up straight, like a proper catholic girl in class.

“I’m having a dilemma.” You state, refusing to let your voice crack. “I need an outside perspective.” Really, you need someone to tell you what you want to hear, but you can’t say that.

“I’m all ears, babe.”

“This whole thing with Eddie,” You ignore her not so subtle eye roll. “Something’s just not right. Steve knew, y’know, about Eddie’s drinking. He told me himself he’d been aware, even before I was.”

“Okay…”

“But Eddie had been drinking, when tour started. A lot. And Steve definitely knew, because he’d been the one to carry him to bed most of the time.”

“What exactly is your dilemma in this scenario?”

“Why was he watching his friend backslide? Why didn’t he do a fucking thing to help him?” You can’t keep your voice from weavering, and you choke on your breath. “I don’t get how he could claim to care for Eddie, to love him, and let him do that to himself. Not after-” You stop, not knowing what Robin should and shouldn’t know.

“After what?”

“After everything, I guess.”

“Listen to me, honey. Eddie is a grown man, so’s Steve. Sure, we’re all buddy buddy, but when it comes down to it, we can’t always play heroes.”

“What, so we’re supposed to be okay watching Eddie slowly kill himself?”

Robin pinches between her eyes, deep in thought. “No, of course not. But at some point, talking to a wall is gonna get old. But, hey! Eddie hasn’t had a drink in weeks, right? So why the worry now?”

You shake your head. “I guess I’m just nervous. We have a month off, and I don’t know where i’m gonna go. I could go to my place in Boston, or go back to Seattle. I just-”

“You’re worried about Eddie.” For once you’re grateful for how easily she can read you.

“I am.”

“You want my advice? Play it by ear. No one said that you have to stay away from him now that business hours are over. You can afford to reconnect with him, in the real world.” She makes a point, but what exactly is the real world? The world you know is barely real, and the one you’d known before it felt even less so. Sometimes you wish you’d died in the Upside Down, at least then you wouldn’t have known such a profound kind of pain.

–

Eddie’s POV

“Tomorrow night, we play our last show of the first leg of the Freak Show Tour,” Eddie announces to his bandmates crowded around the small breakfast table of the tour bus. “We will rock this house like we have rocked no other, a grand finale they will wish they televised!” The response is various whoops and cheers from his friends, and a small smile from Steve as he stands aside with his arms crossed. “Let’s make sure the state of… uh…” Eddie places a hand to his mouth, stage whispering to Steve, “Where are we?”

“Delaware.”

“Let’s make sure the state of Delaware can’t prepare for what we’re about to give ‘em!” Eddie hollers, and his friends join in as the bus pulls around the back of the hotel parking lot.

–

He swipes his key card as he catches you unlocking the door next to him. “Hey neighbor.” He winks, feeling awfully bold after a long trip without seeing you.

“Hey, Eds.” You send him a smile that makes his heart skip, and he curses himself for being so easily bent out of shape. You and him are friends. Friends with a long, frustrating history, but friends nonetheless. “You ready for the mid tour finale?” He asks, awkwardly shifting to lean against the doorframe.

He catches as your face falls the slightest bit. “Yeah, I guess so. It’s gonna be weird, I think.”

“How so?”

You shrug. “I dunno. We’ve been on the road for like a month now. It almost feels normal. I won’t know what to do with myself when I’m back at home.”

He must be mistaken, but your words sound almost like an invitation, a cracked door. “Where’s home for you?” He asks, ignoring how tacky it must sound.

–

Your POV

It takes a lot to bite your tongue before you blurt, “You,” but you manage.”I uh, I think I’m going back to Boston. Might as well, it’s where we start back up again.” It will be August then, and you’ll have heard for sure whether you’re playing one of the biggest music festivals of the year. You still haven’t told Eddie, and at this point you aren’t sure what you’d say. “What about you? Where are you headed?”

Eddie sucks his top lip between his teeth in thought. “Maybe LA, or I’ll hold myself to my promise to visit Wayne. Depends.”

“On what?” It sounds like a challenge.

“On if I want to face my guilt or keep running from it. Or something equally dramatic.”

You snort, pretty eyes rolling back into your head. “Please.”

“What?”

“Don’t be shitty. Let yourself feel guilty, god knows you deserve to. Visit Wayne, at least for a while.”

“Why does it matter to you what I do?” He doesn’t mean for the words to come out as harshly as they do.

“Believe it or not, Ed, you still matter to me. Very much. And if you let yourself be miserable, we’ll all have to put up with your bullshit when we come back. Do us all the favor. Go home.” You swipe your card again, entering your room before Eddie can respond.

–

It shouldn’t matter. You and Eddie aren’t what you used to be, no matter how hard you delude yourself into thinking you can get back there. That possibility feels long gone, completely unreachable at your current status. You have to settle.

You walk over to the big window in your room, drawing back the heavy shades to reveal the setting sun and city of Dover below. You lay back on the bed, the fluffy pillows soothing you quickly to sleep.

–

A knock on your door rattles you awake. The digital clock on your nightstand reads 11:30 PM, and you groan as you roll onto your feet. Another round of heavy knocking makes you scurry faster to the door.

“What?!” You demand, flinging the door back to reveal a disheveled Steve clad in a wrinkled tank top and linen pajama pants. “Oh good, you’re awake.” Steve shoves past you and into the room without an invite, causing you to spin on your heel to face him.

“Well, I am now! What the hell is going on?”

“I can’t find him.”

“Who?”

“Eddie!”

Good fucking god. “He’s not in his room?”

Steve looks at you like you’ve asked the dumbest question in the world. You suppose you have. “No. He went out. Didn’t seem like he was okay.” Steve holds his face in his hands. “I’ve called all the bars in the area, no one’s said they’ve seen him. He could be on the street somewhere, he could-”

“Okay, enough!” Of course he’s worried, but you’re fed up with Steve’s inability to be consistent. “Where was this attitude a month ago? When he was drinking himself silly before every show, when he would beg for whiskey the mornings after? You let him relapse, and now you’re worried?” You don’t realize you’re yelling until someone next door bangs on the wall, demanding you shut up.

“What are you talking about?” Steve sniffs, lifting his head to look at you.

“Steve, you’d known this whole time that Eddie has a problem. You’ve been letting him indulge in it, doing almost nothing. Now you’re surprised he’s gone out without telling you? Seriously?”

“There is only so much I can do to stop him, Y/n, you have to know that. I had to watch him vomit all over himself while I waited for the paramedics, I had to watch him detox in that hospital bed. Then I had to watch him relapse. Not just last month, but last year. He fell off the wagon after eighty nine days, Y/n, eighty nine. You wanna know why?” He waits for you to answer, but you’re not sure you want to. “Because he saw you at a gig. In New York, last July. He called me that night, told me everything. Told me he was sorry, that he was a waste of my time, all that shit. Made me promise to never try to save him again.” Steve’s in tears when he finishes, and you feel your own start to fall. “I have kept my mouth shut because I promised, but I worry about him every day. Well, until lately. He’s been so much happier, and there’s no use even arguing why that must be. But he’s not your responsibility either, I know that. It’s not fair of me to be putting any expectations on you. I just thought you might know where he is.”

You drop onto the mattress beside Steve, resting your head on his shaking shoulder. “I think I might know where he is. We can’t go there, though.”

“Why not?”

“It’s supposed to be anonymous.” You hope to every god that you’re right.

–

Eddie’s POV

“I haven’t been to a meeting in about a year,” Eddie starts, addressing the small group in front of him, sitting in a circle of folding chairs in the basement of a church. “But today is the two year anniversary of the worst day of my life. I guess it’s getting to me lately.”

“What happened two years ago?” The woman running the meeting encourages Eddie. She’s an older woman, with sandy blonde hair and a wrinkled, kind face.

“I ruined the best thing I could have ever asked for. I lost the love of my life, walked out on them for the last time after months of doing whatever I felt like with their feelings…

–

July 1990

“We can’t do this anymore.” You’re talking to the ceiling, arms resting on top of your chest, you don’t look at him. He’s next to you, stuck to the bed with sweat, breathing in your scent that begins to suffocate him. He knew this day was coming. You’d been seeing each other for about a month now, after half a year of not speaking.You’d fallen victim to his drunken pleas, as well as what Eddie suspects is your own self hatred.

“What are you talking about?” He plays dumb, hoping you’ll chicken out of leaving him for a second time.

“This,” You motion to the room around you. “I can’t see you anymore. It’s too much.”

“Too much?” Eddie sits up, and wills the room to stop spinning.

“Every time you come over, you’re wasted. You’re miserable most of the time, and the times you aren’t you’re hopped up on blow. It’s like you’ve added me to your list of fucking bad habits. I don’t want to be that for you anymore.” Your tone is ice cold, not a hint of sadness or anger in your voice at all. It chills Eddie to his core.

“Fine.” Eddie huffs, shoving himself out of bed. “Makes perfect sense, you telling me all this after I fuck your brains out. Made sure to get what you wanted first, right?”

“Eddie, come on,” You go to move, but Eddie tucks the blanket back over you.

“No, really, it’s fine. Ten minutes ago you were telling me how much you missed me, how good it felt. Now you’re cutting me off? Just like that?” Eddie shoves his legs clumsily into his jeans, cursing under his breath when his toe gets caught in a hole. “We talked about this. This was supposed to be purely physical, remember? You agreed to that.”

“I did, I know. But I agreed before I could understand that you’re… well, different.”

“Different how?” He snaps. You hesitate, picking anxiously at your fingernails. “Y/n?”

“You’re mean, Eddie. You’re cold. You don’t care how you make me feel, or rather, how you don’t make me feel when you sleep over. I’ve had to fake it. Beyond that, I can’t even make conversation with you. I feel used. It’s lonely.”

He sees red. Eddie gathers up his jacket, and his still half full beer bottle from the nightstand. “Fuck you,” He spits, tossing things aside as he searches for his keys. “Y’know what, yeah. We’re done.” He gulps the rest of the drink down before slamming the bottle into the bin.

“We can’t be done if we weren’t anything to begin with.” Your words bite, despite them originally being his own from when he’d come up with such a stupid agreement. “And we won’t have to break up, because this isn’t a thing.” He’d seduced you after a show one night, high out of his mind. He’d never expected you to agree to it.

“Perfect,” He snaps, daring himself to look at you. Your eyes are wet, but you’re stoic. You don’t tremble, you don’t heave or scream or shudder. “I don’t ever want to see your face again.” He doesn’t mean that, and he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. But he can’t take them back now. “We don’t know each other.”

“I don’t think we ever did.” Your final words ring loudly in his ears as he slams the door behind him.

–

The group waits patiently for Eddie to finish, and he wipes a tear he hadn’t noticed from his cheek.

“You say you see this person frequently now?” The woman asks, and Eddie nods.

“We’re on tour together. Tomorrow’s our last show ‘til next month. Needed a meeting a little extra tonight, I guess.” It’s past midnight, this group being one that meets in the late hours to cater to night shift workers.

“Well, we thank you for sharing with us tonight, Eddie.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” The group responds as if on cue. The meeting is dismissed shortly after, and Eddie makes his way to the table for complementary stale coffee and doughnuts.

“You’re really brave for coming here.” The voice is small, taking Eddie a second to register. He turns around to face a girl who can’t be older than seventeen. “I’m Macy. Addict.”

“Hi, Macy.” Eddie greets her like he’s reciting a script. “I dunno about brave. That’s probably the last thing I feel right now.”

“Well, think of it like this. You could have gone to a bar, or a club to try and score. You came here instead. That’s brave.”

He shrugs. “I guess you’re right.”

“And they still love you, y’know. That doesn’t just go away.”

“How would someone your age know so much about something like that?”

Macy shrugs. “I follow the tabloids. I know who you are. I won’t say anything, obviously. But I’ve been watching you, with them. I’ve seen the photos, and the music doesn’t leave much to the imagination.”

“You can’t believe everything you read.” He’s not sure whether to take her word, she seems so genuine.

“Maybe not, but I believe this.”

Eddie gives her a sad smile before saying goodbye. She waves him off with a warm smile.

Once outside, he lights a cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs as he closes his tired eyes. The exhaustion has washed over him, and he’s ready to be dragged under when he hears footsteps approaching.

—

Your POV

He opens his eyes and meets them with yours, heavy from lack of sleep. “Hi.” You wave shyly, like you’ve never met him.

“How’d you find me here?” He flicks ash onto the concrete.

“Saw the flier in the lobby when we came in. Checked it again and saw one less tab on the bottom. Minor detective work.” You smile, despite the exhaustion written on your face. His cheeks warm.

“You alone?”

You nod. “Took a world of convincing Steve not to come with me. I think I’ve sedated him, though.”

“Shit, he that worried?”

You shrug. “You know how he gets. He’ll be glad to know you’re okay, though.”

“What, did you think I’d gone on a run too?”

“No, actually. It was my idea to check here. Relieved as shit that I’m right.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You stretch your hand out to hold as the doors swing open, a herd of people filing out. A small girl with a sweet face sends Eddie a smile, and winks at you before getting into a cab, and you turn to find him blushing.

“Friend of yours?”

He chuckles. “Guess you could say that.” He entwines his fingers with yours without waiting for an invitation. All too familiar touches, worlds away from where you’d stood only a month ago. “So,” He starts, swinging his arm and yours as you start back toward the hotel, “were you worried about me?” His tone is teasing, tinged with what can only be described as hope.

You can feel your cheeks warm and you suck your bottom lip between your teeth. “Guess you could say that.” You squeeze his hand. “But that’s nothing new. I’m always worried about you.”

—

July 1990

Your POV

“It’s over,” You’re sobbing into the receiver, barely able to hear Steve’s sigh on the other end. Relief? Disappointment? You can’t tell, your senses are blunted only by the thought of him.

“Are you okay? Wait, stupid question,” Steve stumbles on the other line, unsure of how to comfort you. “Can I do anything?”

You shake your head before you remember he can’t see you. “No, no. I’ll be alright. I ended it. I had to. He’s not the same person I fell in love with. I know that now.”

“Maybe, but there’s a lot you don’t know.”

“Do I want to know?”

Steve waits a beat before answering, the static of the line filling your head. “No, I don’t think you do.”

You talk for an hour before you feel your eyelids grow heavy, and say your goodbyes before hanging up. You are once again in silence. Alone. In a fit of rage— or of heartbreak, you’re not sure, you fall to your knees and let go. You haven’t cried like this in months, the kind of cry that leaves you hoarse and tired, but tonight, in the dark of your bedroom, you cry for the person you used to know.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Thank you, Denver! Goodnight!” The crowd erupts into cheers, pleas for a second encore, and Eddie’s sure he can see women in the front row tearing their bras off to throw onstage. The house speakers blast Talking Heads Burning Down The House as kids make their way to the exit. Eddie slides through the crowd of techs and stagehands backstage, making his way to the green room to collapse on the weathered couch.

“That was fucking incredible!” Jeff exclaims, clapping his calloused hands together. “Best show so far, I think.”

“Psh, that was nothin’, wait ‘til you see what Boston can do.” You’re sitting in the rickety recliner, a cigarette between your fingers, still dressed in your stage clothes. Your skin shines with sweat and glitter, cheeks rosy from exertion. You’re most stunning like this, Eddie thinks.

“Yeah? You willing to bet on that?” He jokes.

“Oh, more than willing!” You chuckle, stubbing out your smoke in the ashtray next to you. “But tonight, I turn in early.” You make a point to stand up, stretching your arms above your head. Eddie’s eyes fall to your midsection, exposed to him while you sort out your limbs. You’d think he’d never seen skin, the way he feels his skin burn at the sight of your stomach.

“Aw, it’s our last night together!” Sylvie whines, shoving you playfully. “One drink?”

Eddie waits with bated breath, and swears your eyes dart to his before you answer.

“Fine. One drink.”

—

Eddie doesn’t follow you to the bar, he knows better. Tonight has already been difficult, knowing he has nowhere to go after tonight, nowhere he wants to go, anyway. He digs through his duffel bag until he finds his long ignored copy of Tighten Up. He wants more of you, somehow. He’s still desperate to know how you’d felt, those horrible years apart.

He skips to the title track, tucking his hair behind his ears before equipping the headphones. The song greets him with the static of an amp, followed by the clicking of drumsticks. When it kicks in, the song is full, clearly a whole band effort. Robin’s bass cuts through with a funky riff, layered underneath dirty guitars and heavy drums. He’s sure the song can’t get better until your voice slices through the music

Dared myself to stand back up, / After all these wasted tears, / Felt my heart sew itself together, / After all that wear ‘n’ tear. / I let you turn your back on me, / I watched you walk away, / And ‘til now I let myself believe / I was supposed to die that way. / But now I’ve tightened up my heart, / I’ve locked away the pain, / and I don’t have much left to give, / without asking for the same.

You tell a story of a broken soul, fighting its way through the dark on its own. The music swells as you belt the chorus, and Eddie can almost feel his fingers hurt during your guitar solo. Robin’s backing vocals fill out your lead, and the buzz of the snare drum carries out the bridge.

When the song fades, Eddie takes his headphones off, needing to digest what he’s just heard. This one might just be his favorite on the album, at least so far. It feels like the pinnacle, the turning point of the story told by the tracks. He’s heard it live, sure, but something about hearing the way it’s produced gives him more of an idea of what you’d been feeling in the moment.

He has an overwhelming urge to see you. He launches himself out of bed, gathering himself as best he can for being so frazzled. He’s in sweatpants, a tattered t-shirt draped loosely over his form, hair pulled into a low ponytail to keep from tangling. He goes to turn the knob, but stops when he hears voices in the hall.

“I can’t believe it.” You’re wasted, words slurring together between hiccups and giggles. Eddie can picture you, rosy cheeked and stumbling, clawing for his arm to support your swaying weight, and his heart lurches as if to grab you through the door. “We’re playing fucking Lollapalooooooza!” You howl the word, and he hears Steve shush you as Robin cackles.

“Hey, hey!” Steve stage whispers, trying to silence you. “Don’t go gloating about it.”

“Why not?” He can almost hear your pout, and he chuckles to himself.

“I don’t wanna deal with you pissing Eddie off.”

“Y’know, Stevie, he’s gonna find out one way or another. Might as well come from me. Besides, he’s different. He’s happier, I think. I dunno. I hope he’s happy, he deserves to be happy.” Eddie’s heart swells as he listens to your tangent, but you’re not done yet. “I wish I could make him happy again. I feel like, whatever I do, I make it worse.” Your voice is cracking, whether from overuse or from trying not to cry, Eddie can’t tell. Now he has to see you. He goes to turn the knob again, but there’s a knock on his door at the very same moment.

Eddie opens the door almost as soon as you’re finished knocking, wafting your scent of lavender and vanilla into his nostrils.

“Hi,” You exhale the word, and Eddie can’t help when his lips twitch upward before he lets his grin free. “Needed to see you.”

“What a coincidence.” He tries not to let his excitement show, standing aside to let you in. “What’s goin’ on?”

“I have to tell you something. Well, I don’t have to. But I want to. You were the only person I wanted to tell, actually. I hope you’re not mad, though. I don’t know what I’d do if you were.”

“Hey, whoa, slow down,” Eddie rushes to where you sit on the edge of his bed, spiraling as the liquor tightens its hold on you. “Why would I get upset?”

You shrug lamely. “I dunno. Just, need you to be happy for me right now. Please be happy for me.” It’s a hoarse whisper, a plea meant for his ears only.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He doesn’t know where to put his hands, so he settles for resting one clammy palm on your leg. “You can tell me anything you want.” He knows what’s coming. You’re playing the biggest festival in the States. Something he’s dreamed about since the festival came to be. Of course it hurts, but Eddie can push that aside to be happy for you. He knows better.

You don’t continue, though. Instead, you scoot further into his side, nuzzling into his shoulder like a needy cat. Despite his aching heart, Eddie wraps his arm around you, letting you further into his hold. Your breathing slows back to normal, and Eddie has no desire to move from this spot. Tomorrow, you go back to Boston, and Eddie fucks off somewhere to wait out the month until he gets to see you again. He can indulge for one more night.

“I do have stuff to tell you,” You say finally, “but not right now. Right now, I sleep.” You hum, and he scoffs. Surely you won’t remember this tomorrow, so he decides not to push you. Eddie slides out from where you rest, laying you back into the mattress. He slips off your shoes and jeans, careful not to tug at anything else. He then tucks the blanket up to your chin, and starts to make a place for himself on the floor when your hand shoots out, snatching his wrist.

“Please, sleep here.” You pat the bed next to you, and he melts at the gesture. Your eyes are almost completely closed, hair wild from dancing, sweating, whatever you’d been doing tonight.

“You’re drunk, sweets. You’ll be upset in the morning.” He doesn’t want to deny you, especially in your softened, sleepy state.

“No!” You shake your head vigorously, wincing at the movement. “No, I won’t. Please, Eddie,” and he’s a goner. Of course he surrenders, and tucks himself into the warm bed next to you. You snuggle into him like it’s instinct, making a home on his chest as he lay stiffly with an arm around you, waiting for you to get comfortable.

You let out a sigh, your breathing slowing, arms wrapped around him with surprising strength. Eddie’s mind starts to wander back to the song, how someone is capable of two such wonderful emotional extremes.

Your mumbling tickles his neck, pulling him from his head. He doesn’t quite catch the words.

“What was that?” He coos, enjoying your touches, your breath on his skin. He could live here.

“I said, ‘I love you, Eddie.’” The words come out strung together, but to Eddie they puncture with each syllable. “G’night.” And before he can respond, you’re snoring.

Eddie, once ready to retire for the evening, is now completely wired, feeling you drift into dreamland next to him, as if you haven’t just upended everything.

—

chapter xxii

—

Your POV

You shouldn’t. To say yes to him would be stupid, damaging, confusing, and stupid. But god, you want to say yes. Though you’ve barely had a drop to drink, your brain is fuzzy, clouded with intoxication, drunk off Eddie’s kiss. His hand is frozen on the elastic waistband of his borrowed boxers, not moving an inch in either direction as he waits for your response.

“Eddie,” You sigh, stalling.

“We don’t have to. I get it. We shouldn’t.”

“It’s gonna hurt us both,”

“Destroy all the progress we’ve made.”

You wince. The more you say about it, the less you can excuse just how stupid it would be. “I don’t think we should. I want to, believe me. But there’s so much to unpack, so much I need to think about. I can’t have you swaying my bias.” You try to make a joke, to get that sad scowl off of Eddie’s lips. He looks up at you, head still level with your naked chest.

“I totally understand.” He nods, shifting to lay back on his side, and you frown at the sudden loss of his warmth.

“Do you want me to go?” You’re suddenly shy. Rejecting a man, Eddie or otherwise, always feels like a trap.

“Only if you want.” There’s no anger, no hurt in his voice, he’s perfectly neutral. His big, pretty eyes scan over your body slowly, but they’re not hungry. It’s as if he’s trying to commit your form to memory, like he knows he won’t be seeing it again.

“I don’t want.”

Eddie snickers, the ice cracking. “Okay. But if you’re stayin’,”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll put a shirt on.” You swing your arm over the edge of the bed, blindly feeling until you grab the fabric in your fist. You feel Eddie’s eyes still on you as you pull his shirt back over your head, wishing you’d been willing to risk it all.

-

Eddie’s POV

“I’m sorry.” He blurts it as you’re tucking yourself further under the covers. “That wasn’t fair. I shouldn’t have even thought to do that.” He tries to read your expression in the dim lamp light, but it’s like you’re speaking a foreign language. “I just, y’know, miss you. I got carried away. I just dumped this huge thing on you then tried to fuck you!” You startle at his exclamation. “God what a manipulative, shitty-“

“Eddie?” You interrupt, and he snaps his mouth shut. “Shut up.” He nods feverishly, miming zipping his lips. “I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions, good or bad. I wanted to, I want to, just as much as you do. Regardless of what you could have said to me, I would have wanted to.” You caress his cheek, and he revels in your touch, no matter how small. “Just give me a little time.”

He perks up at that. Time? As in, the future? As in, there’s a chance? “Time.”

You nod, scooting your body even closer to his, tangling your legs with his, wrapping yourself around him like a possessed vine. In the crook of his neck, you rest your head, and Eddie closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling. He’ll wait for you, as long as he needs to. With each exhale of yours into his neck, he feels himself drift further into sleep, just as your breathing evens out, your weight a comfort on top of him.

—

He wakes up, and you’re gone. Where you’d once lay now hosts a folded piece of torn notebook paper, Eddie’s name scrawled in your handwriting on the front. It’s a short note, but Eddie reads it over and over as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

Eds,

Thank you for last night, every second of it. I miss you too, desperately, but we need time. I hope you’re willing to wait for us.

I left early before Mama Steve could see us, would’ve said goodbye but you looked so peaceful, so I'll settle for seeing you later. Thanks for letting me find you.

Love,

Y/n

Eddie feels his cheeks burn with each reread. Love. Love love love. LOVE!!!!!! He’s giddy, feeling like a fuckin’ teenager being asked to be your Valentine, or some shit. It puts an unreasonable amount of pep in his step for being so early in the morning. For once, he’s not hungover, not craving a drop. He wants to see you, though, more than anything. “Chill out, Munson. Steel yourself.” Eddie collects his belongings, stuffing them into his duffle before throwing the door open to meet everyone for breakfast.

—

He spots you, looking past the rest of the crew to where you’re sitting with Robin, talking animatedly as she shoves bacon into her mouth. Robin looks entranced, and Eddie can only assume you’re catching her up on last night’s events, and his cheeks burn at the thought.

You spot him approaching, regarding him with a shy wave as he yanks a chair up next to you. “Good morning,” he greets you, then Robin, attempting to keep his voice from shaking with nerves. Something about seeing you now, after what almost happened, has Eddie sweating with nerves.

“Good morning!” Robin chirps, far too perky for this hour. “We were just talking about, um,” She can’t come up with a lie fast enough, and darts her eyes to you for help.

You only roll your own. “Real subtle, Rob.”

“You know I’m awful under pressure!”

“You could’ve just kept it at ‘good morning’!” You turn to face Eddie, your face still soft from sleep, tired from the nights on the road. “Sorry,” you say meekly, “I needed to talk to someone. Unfortunately my best friend has no qualms about her blabbermouth!”

Robin scoffs in mock offense. “This is so not my fault, you-“

“If I may,” Eddie interrupts, “It doesn’t bother me at all. I would tell everyone I knew, if I could.”

This causes Robin to turn on him. “So, why don’t you?”

“Uh, well, it’s complicated,” Eddie starts, scratching his head anxiously. “I don’t exactly know what it is we’re doing, it’s nothing I can explain at this point in time really, there’s a lot that-“

“Boo!” Robin interrupts, throwing Eddie a thumbs down gesture. “We all know you two are in love, isn’t that all that matters?!”

“Whoa!” Eddie exclaims at the same time you shriek, “Robin!” causing her to startle.

“What? I’m just calling it like I see it.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” You shove yourself from the table, abandoning your half eaten pancakes. “I’m gonna go help load the buses. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast. Eddie,” He looks up to where you’re standing, immediately losing himself in your pretty eyes. “I’ll uh, see you later.” And before he can respond you’re hustling out of the hotel.

Eddie turns back to Robin, eyes narrowing at her. “What the hell was that?”

“What?!” She questions through a mouth stuffed with waffle.

“Why would you say that? As if I haven’t scared her enough already, you had to drop the L word on them?!”

Robin swallows thickly before responding, “Hey. I have no clue what else you’ve told them, they don’t tell me everything believe it or not. All I know is that you almost hooked up last night, but didn’t. They didn’t tell me why not, and I asked! But it’s pretty fuckin clear you both wanted to, so of course I’m dying to know why.”

“I’m sure you’ll learn soon enough.”

“They said it was up to you to tell me.” Robin crossed her arms over her chest.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not something I need everyone to know. I promise you’re not missing out on anything.”

Robin only groans, and shoves another buttery bite into her mouth.

—

Your POV

Steve is double checking his list when you approach him in front of the buses. “Mornin’ sunshine,” You greet him, wrapping your arms around the middle of his stiff torso. “How ya doin’?”

Steve wraps one arm around your shoulders, the other still holding his clipboard. “I’m alright, we’re almost ready to go. You weren’t in your room this morning, you okay?”

You sigh, letting him from your grasp. “I’m good, yeah. There’s some stuff I wanna talk to you about, though.”

“Yeah?” Steve drops his clipboard to his side, turning to face you. “I’m all ears.”

“I uh, well. Eddie and I talked,” you pause, heeding his reaction, but Steve only nods for you to go on. “He told me everything. About New Years, about the meetings,” you watch as Steve catches on to what you’re saying. “He’s getting better, or he says he is. He didn’t drink last night, hasn’t used in weeks. He told me you saved his life.”

Steve gives you a shy smile. “He said that?”

You nod, feeling your own smile widen. “He’s surprised you aren’t bragging to anyone who’ll listen. It’s a huge thing, saving the life of a rockstar.”

Steve shoves you playfully. “Hey, who do you think I am? Like I’m gonna go around parading the fact that my best friend tried to kill himself. I’m not a monster.”

You laugh at his defense. “No, of course not! I just. I guess I still have questions.” Steve gives you a questioning look. “I didn’t see him at his worst, but you did. You watched him fall apart when it should have been me.” You shake your head sadly, unable to look at your friend.

“Y/n, I need you to get a grip.” His tone startles you, and you snap your head up to look at him.

“Excuse me?”

“This isn’t your pity party! You just learned something so serious, so important about the guy you’re clearly in love with, and your first instinct is to wish you’d been the one calling the ambulance?!” The anger in his tone stings your cheeks with embarrassment. He’s right. “I get it, I know that time wasn’t easy for you, either. But you had no way of knowing. You stopped calling him, stopped talking about him altogether.”

“Are you saying this is my fault?!” You’re angry now, too. “Eddie is a grown up, he makes his own decisions, don’t you dare try insinuating it’s my fault he was using.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes screwed shut in concentration. “No. No, that’s not what I’m saying. Of course it’s not your fault, but Eddie’s an impulsive guy, with little to no critical thinking skills. He’s not gonna think every little thing through.”

You sigh, defeated. “I just don’t know what to do from here.”

Steve rests a hand on your shoulder, like a dad about to drop a birds and bees talk on his teenager. “Whatever you want.”

“What?”

He shrugs. “You know everything now, right? What’s left?”

“A lot, actually.”

“Like?”

“Like, how do I make sure this doesn’t happen again? How do I trust him? How do I trust myself?”

“Okay, slow down. No one has those answers. You know that, right? You’re never gonna know what you’re capable of until you try. You gotta put the work in.”

You look at your friend quizzically. “Where’d you get all this relationship wisdom? Last I checked, you’re still a bachelor!”

He blushes at the mention. “I may or may not be seeing someone”

“Steve!” You shove him, and he stumbles. “How dare you keep this secret from me?!”

“Sorry! I wanted to tell you but, you’ve been preoccupied!”

It’s not a dig, but you pout at him. “I have been, huh. I’m sorry, I haven’t been that great of a friend lately.

“Hey I get it, I wouldn’t be either if I had the hots for Eddie.”

“What do you mean if?”

It’s Steve’s turn to shove you, sparking a brief wrestling match that ends with him in a headlock.

Steve throws his arm around you again. “You know. You really do drive me nuts. But I put up with it because I love you.”

“I love you too, Stevie.”

“So, what’s the plan now?”

God, what a loaded question. “Guess we’ll find out!” Steve groans, and you cackle before hugging him a third time.

—

You have a few days off in Philadelphia, and you’re ecstatic. There are tattoo shops, record stores, and endless options for good food in the city, and you’re excited to explore it all. The only problem, though, is the person you want to explore with.

“Eddie, over here!” “Right here, Eddie!” “How’s tour treating you?” “Partying hard?” The paps swarm him and his band, seemingly ignoring your presence right behind them. “Great work on the new album, Eddie.” “What was the inspiration behind Sweetheart?!” The questions are shallow, excuses to keep snapping pictures of the front man as he shields his eyes.

“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it. You gotta go, though. My manager’s gonna be pissed.” He laughs nervously, and you fight the urge to catch up to him. “Hope you’ll come see us on Friday.” He adds half heartedly, and eventually they stop following, letting him, as well as the rest of you, to enter the hotel without further disturbance.

Steve makes a bee line for the front desk, leaving you and your bandmates to wait with Corroded Coffin in the lobby. You stand next to Eddie, not too closely to draw attention, but close enough to feel the tension in his shoulders. “Hi.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but Eddie hears you.

“Hey.”

“You alright?”

He shrugs. “Just stressed.”

“You wanna go out when we get settled? There’s some stuff I wanna check out.”

He nods, a wordless agreement, and you nod back. Steve comes back with the room assignments, and you have one to yourself for the weekend. For now, at least. You have a lingering feeling you won’t get much time alone.

—

Eddie’s POV

He waits outside the hotel, a cigarette hanging in his mouth as he watches the nightlife around him. Kids on their way to bars, to clubs, giggling and shouting without a care in the world. Some teens crossing the street do a double take as they pass him, and he hears them talking. “Guys seriously, that was him! That’s Eddie.” He chuckles to himself, still finding himself shocked that people know who he is.

“Hey, you ready?” You step out of the hotel door, onto the sidewalk next to him. You’re in street clothes, a pair of high waisted jeans and a tucked in Bikini Kill shirt, your hair tied up on your head.

Eddie nods, and takes up stride next to you as you lead the way down the street. At first, neither of you speak, letting the silence weigh on top of you as you find your footing. It’s not long though before Eddie can’t take it.

“Where are we going?”

You shrug, like it wasn’t your idea to go out. “There’s a secret show here tonight. It’s way low key, but Robin heard through the grapevine from a very reputable source.” Your words make him nervous. Something about a night out with you makes his skin vibrate. You lead him down another side street, and outside a dive bar, a line is forming, mostly of people around the same age as you and Eddie, mostly wearing what looked to Eddie like his wardrobe in high school. He tries to read a few of the shirts, but nothing is visible enough to give away who this band might be.

You get up to the front of the line, and the bouncer doesn’t even bother asking for an ID. “Wow, Y/n L/n and Eddie Munson. Wasn’t sure if you’d show!” Despite the bouncer’s size, his voice is gentle, kind. He gives you and Eddie a wave as he unclips the red rope, the only obstacle between the street and the store.

“Who are we seeing?” Eddie half yells so you can hear him over the music, following closely behind as you slither your way to the stage.

“You’ll see!” You tease. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about this!” You reach the stage, where guitars and a drum kit are waiting to be played. “Figured you’d be the one telling me about it, actually.” You head to the bar and order yourself a drink, not bothering to ask Eddie if he wants anything.

“You wanna give me a hint?”

You shake your head, straw wiggling in the glass as you sip. “It’s better as a surprise.” You wink at him, and he follows your lead to the stage as the lights dim.

Before anyone sets foot on stage, Eddie’s heart jolts. He recognizes the drum kit somehow, and he feels the knot in his throat tighten. No fucking way. The overhead speakers buzz before a recorded voice announces, Hole In The Wall Club would like to thank its sponsors for putting tonight’s event on. Please remember there is no flash photography inside the venue, no smoking, and absolutely no crowd surfing. Then a loud, electrifying applause rattles the room as Metallica set foot on what is probably the smallest stage they’ve been on in years.

“No fucking way.” Eddie says more to himself, but you look up at him, beaming. “No goddamn fucking way!”

“Surprise!” You giggle, and Eddie has to fight the urge to kiss you right there. You’re right, he should have known about this, but he’d been so distracted by the person in front of him he could barely retain anything else.

They open with For Whom The Bell Tolls, and Eddie launches himself into the mosh pit, limbs vibrating with excitement. You’re close behind, drink splashing as you jump around with him.

—

so so very sorry for how much time has passed since the last chapter. i won’t promise to update regularly but i definitely haven’t forgotten!

Present day

Your POV

Your issue of SPIN comes out today, and your heart is slamming in your chest in line to check out. In your hands is a copy of the magazine, a picture of Corroded Coffin plastered across the cover. Eddie’s eyes seem to glare even from the glossy paper, his arms crossed over his bare chest while the rest of his bandmates stand behind him, looking equally stoic. In the top corner of the page reads, Femme Punk Takeover: An Interview with Death Dance Approximately. You read the words over and over, refusing to spoil the spread for yourself until you’re alone and safe to scream with your friends about it.

Once you exit the store, magazine clutched in your hand, you speed walk back to the hotel you’re staying in. Today is your off day, but tomorrow you play a show on the one and only Las Vegas Strip. Your plans include celebrating the magazine spread by drinking yourselves silly.

Back in your hotel room, you kick your shoes off and fling yourself onto the bed. Robin’s out shopping with Steve, and Sylvie and Lilith are getting lunch, so you have the afternoon to yourself. Instead of diving right into your own spread, you curiously turn the pages until you find the Corroded Coffin interview. It spans four full pages, including photographs and quotes in bold, big lettering. You swear to yourself you’ll only skim, but that promise is quickly broken when you read the first sentence.

Kings of Rock, Corroded Coffin, sit uncomfortably in their folding director-esque chairs, as if sitting for an interview is the least punk thing they could be doing. Their frontman fidgets with his gleaming silver rings, his lips pressed together in concentration or annoyance.

Jessie Stevens: So, on your new album Freak Show, there’s a song titled Sweetheart. It’s far different from the rest of the tracks, a calming break before the climax of Severed Thumb and Wiped Clean. What influenced this mood change?

Eddie Munson: Sweetheart is about someone that was once very close to me. It’s about love and loss, and a whole shit ton of heartbreak, and the one person that never made me feel like, the freak, y’know?

J: Do you still talk to this person?

The frontman’s face falls a little, like he’s reminded of something upsetting.

E: It’s… complicated.

You roll your eyes. It’s not complicated, the answer is a firm no. You and Eddie don’t talk, not more than you’re forced to. You continue scanning the article, until you find something else that catches your eye.

J: You’re currently touring with Death Dance Approximately, who are quickly moving up in the world of rock. What advice would you give them as seasoned rockstars?

Munson pauses, looking at his bandmates with a question in his eyes.

E: I guess I’d tell them never to let go of themselves. I lost myself for a while, honestly I’m still pretty lost. The industry is brutal, it takes so much of your soul away from you, and if I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be not to let go of who I was. I miss that person.

You read Eddie’s answer, over and over, your eyes stinging. You miss who Eddie was, before signing, before giving in to fame and attention the way he has. Desperately, you want to believe that sweet boy is still in there somewhere. You think he is, after the events of last night, but you’re not sure how to yank him out of the steel shell he’s built around himself.

Further down, one more thing catches your attention.

J: Do you wish you’d done anything differently? Whether it be in your career, or in your life outside of it?

E: I wish I fought harder for my people. I lost someone I loved so much. I let them walk out of my life without any objection. I wish so badly that I could’ve made them stay, but… It was too late. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it.

Munson’s bandmates look to each other knowingly, clearly aware that the mysterious person he speaks of is the reason for his sour mood.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It’s barely a whisper, despite no one being in the room with you. All he had to do was ask, and you’d tell him everything. Why you left, what would’ve made you stay, but he’d rather tell the whole world he fucked up than just apologize to you.

—

Eddie’s POV

His copy of SPIN lay open in his lap as he reads the Death Dance interview. His bandmates are god knows where, enjoying their day off while Eddie mopes in his hotel room.

J: How do you guys feel about touring with one of the biggest names in rock?

Eddie rolls his eyes at the question, knowing you probably hated hearing his band brought up in your interview.

Y: I mean, we knew them growing up. It’s really cool to see them all again, and we’re honored to tour with them.

Eddie’s surprised you’d even mention knowing him at this point, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

J: You know Corroded Coffin?

Y: Yeah! I moved to Hawkins my senior year, where I met Robin, and they were all seniors. We played DnD together, made music together. We lost touch after high school, but the world is so small.

J: Is that what Indiana is about?

Y: In some respects, yeah. Indiana was a huge change from where I grew up in Boston, a much smaller, more conservative place for sure.

Eddie puts the magazine down, and reaches for his CD player. He skips to track 5, and closes his eyes as the guitars wail in his ears. He only knows parts of the song, from hearing it live when he can stomach watching your set, but somehow it feels like listening for the first time.

I’m from a city where no one knows each other / where we walk down streets avoiding eyes and shoving by / and when I moved to Indiana, I began to understand why / I wasn’t meant for smaller towns, where everyone knows my name, / but you had been there, my saving grace, / and now I miss the comfort. / I miss the sounds of singing birds, and the crackle of a fire. / I moved back to the city, and though it’s pretty, / it’s no longer what I know. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there / In the warmth of your eyes and the smell of your hair / I let myself believe I could make my life here / and when I lost you, I lost everything. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there. Indiana wasn’t home, and I lost my home there.

He plays the song four times before he can bring himself to breathe right again. Eddie can hear your heart breaking through your voice, the way it cracks on the chorus, the way you belt the final verse. All at once, he understands why you left, why you felt you had no choice. He was drowning in the pressure of being famous, leaving you behind to watch him from the shadows.

—

Your POV

You finally throw the magazine down, and rush to shower and get ready to go out. Tonight is your night off, a night to relax and not think about the boy across the hall. It’s easier said than done, though, as your mind keeps wandering to that final paragraph. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it. All he had to do was ask. You’d tell him everything; why you left, what could have gotten you to stay. But he’s been so cold, so distant with you, and you can’t really blame him. It’s just as difficult for you to be on tour with him, but you’re still trying to be mature about it.

Your spiral is disturbed by a knock on your door. You clip your earrings in and rush to answer it, smoothing your shirt to make sure you’re presentable. You open the door to Robin and Steve, their arms linked together like best friends on the playground. Both of them are dressed up, Steve in a button down and black slacks, Robin in sequined overalls that scream Vegas! They greet you with gleaming smiles, and you move aside to let them in.

“I’m almost ready! Any idea where we’re going?” You ask them both before pulling your lipstick out of your bag.

“We’re taking the strip by storm! It’s a group outing, everyone’s coming!” Robin claps her hands together

“Everyone?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking at her in the mirror.

She bites her lip and glances at Steve, who only shrugs. “Yeah, Gareth and Jeff overheard us planning, and we figured some bonding was in order. But don’t worry! We can separate when we get there.”

You smack your lips together and shrug. “It’s not me you have to worry about.” You turn to face them, extending your arms to present your glammed up self. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re gonna rip Eddie’s soul out of his bod— Ow!” Steve rubs where Robin has elbowed his arm. “You look beautiful.” He recovers, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let’s get goin’ then!” Robin heaves herself off the bed, and you hold the door for her and Steve, following them out the door.

—

The casinos are the most insane thing you’ve ever experienced. The bright lights almost blind you, and the sounds of slot machines are so loud you can’t hear yourself think. It’s no wonder no one wins these things, it’s impossible to concentrate.

“C’mon!” Sylvie grabs hold of your wrist, leading you and your bandmates to the blackjack table. You glance behind you, sending a help me look to Steve, who shrugs in defeat as he follows Eddie and Jeff to the bar.

“Robin, I don’t know how to play!” You object, but she’s already sitting in a free stool by the dealer.

“No worries, babe, this is all on me. I just want you all to watch me win!” She’s buzzed, having gulped her champagne down in the car on the way here. You giggle at her confidence, knowing damn well she also has no idea how to gamble.

“Whatever you do, don’t bet our royalties.” Lilith nudges her, hiccuping on her own bubbly.

“Yeah, yeah. Hit me!” She slaps the table, and the dealer smirks like he knows he’s about to watch Robin lose all of her disposable income.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Whiskey, neat.” He orders his drink, flopping down on an empty stool. Steve sits next to him, while Jeff orders drinks for himself and Gareth. “Come hang out, man!” Jeff calls when he receives his drinks, already walking to the table his bandmates sit at with yours. Eddie nods a response, nursing his drink.

“You gotta at least try to enjoy yourself tonight.” Steve says, taking a sip of what looks like fruit punch.

“I am enjoying myself, Steven” Eddie holds up his whiskey, as if to prove the point. Steve glares at him, and Eddie takes a swig. “What?”

“You’re moping! You’re a famous rockstar on a cross country tour, and you’re moping. Had I known you were gonna be a drama queen this whole time I would’ve brought a goddamn book to read.”

Eddie groans, taking another sip. “I know, I know. I’m miserable.”

“You need to talk to them.” Steve says bluntly, not looking at Eddie.

“Why would I do that?”

“I know you want to.”

“I do not!”

Steve snorts, and Eddie presses his lips together in annoyance. “You read that interview, right?” Eddie nods. “So you know they talk about you now. You’re on their mind. You listen to the song they mentioned?” He nods again. “So you still care about what they have to say. What’s stopping you? Why are you so fucking scared?”

Eddie turns in his chair, back to where your band sits at the table, anxiously watching as Robin plays another round. Your face is pink, caused by the alcohol or the warmth of the building. Your shirt hugs your frame tightly, accentuating your features. You lift a glass of champagne to your lips, pinky extended, leaving a smear of red lipstick on the rim of the glass. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as your friends cheer Robin on. You have a happy glow to you, and it takes everything inside of Eddie to rip his eyes away. “What’s stopping me is the fact that they deserve better.” Eddie grumbles, gulping the rest of his liquor down and calling the bartender over. “I don’t want to ruin this for them. I’m already here, and that can’t be easy. I want them to enjoy this experience, I don’t want to intrude on it.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna drink yourself to death every time we have an outing? You think that isn’t causing them any distress? Your liver is gonna deteriorate soon, man. May wanna figure out a different strategy.”

“Will you get off my ass about drinking, Harrington? It’s rich, coming from the kid that shotgunned like sixty beers a week his freshman year of high school.”

Steve chuckles, and Eddie can’t hide the grin creeping onto his face. “Fair enough. But that was high school. I didn’t have a billion fans relying on me not to die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Nah, just the six hundred Hawkins High students. Big whoop!” Eddie emphasizes his point with a show of jazz hands. “Either way. If I’m gonna talk to them, I’m gonna be drunk when I do it.” Eddie gulps down his second drink in one go, feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to kick in.

“Whatever, dude. You wanna go play some cards?” Steve offers his hand, and Eddie takes it begrudgingly, yanking himself away from the bar and into the mass of the crowded casino. He’s forced to squeeze by you, apologizing under his breath as he brushes against your back, sidestepping between the tables. You don’t seem to notice. He takes his place next to Gareth, and Steve stands firmly between him and you, a bridge neither of you dare to cross. Eddie feels your eyes on him, and it takes everything inside of him not to look back. Instead, he’s dealt into the next hand, planning only to play one round as a distraction from your presence. The waiter drops off another round of drinks, and Eddie slaps his palm on the table. “Deal me in.”

—

“Okay, that’s enough!” Steve yanks on an objecting Eddie’s arm, hauling him away from the table. He’s already lost a good chunk of change, both at the table and to the expensive drinks he’s been gulping down. Despite his objections, Steve manages to drag Eddie out of the casino unscathed.

“Here,” Steve sticks a cigarette between Eddie’s lips and lights it for him. “Sober up a little.”

Eddie plucks the lit stick from his mouth and exhales, the cool night air bathing his warm face.

“Where,” Eddie’s eyes are glassy, his vision blurring as he takes in his surroundings.

“We’re outside the casino. Waiting for the car.” Steve lights a cigarette for himself, inhaling as Eddie does the same.

“Where’s Y/n?” He realizes suddenly that he hasn’t seen you in hours.

“Back at the hotel. They left a while ago, but you didn’t want to get up. Sometime around your fourth hand, when you accused the dealer of cheating.” Eddie looks down at his feet, seeing four of them, and hums in response. “They told me to make sure I get you home safe.”

He looks back up to his friend, cautiously optimistic. “They said that?”

Steve nods, a smirk on his face. “Told me they’d kick my ass if anything happened to you. So I’m keeping my promise.” The car pulls up, and Steve opens the door for Eddie. “C’mon, in ya go.”

Eddie lets his eyes slip closed as the car starts moving, promising himself he won’t throw up on Steve. He thinks of all the ways he could possibly tell you he’s sorry, how he could start to mend the wounds he’s caused you. He’s going to, he decides, as soon as he can manage to walk on his own.

—

Your POV

There’s a banging on your hotel room as you’re clawing your way out of your clothes. You pull your big t-shirt on, pause Breaking The Girl, and rush to answer it. You’re expecting room service with some wine, or Steve with tomorrow’s game plan. “Coming!” You call, finally opening the door, only to be greeted by Eddie’s wobbly figure. “Oh. Hi.” You look at his nose as you speak, afraid of what would happen if your eyes were to meet his. His face is flushed from the drinking, his eyes glazed over and his hair frizzy.

“Hi. Bad time?” He looks you up and down, causing your cheeks to warm despite your blood running cold. You realize now that the shirt you’re wearing is one that once belonged to him. “I’ll, uh, go. I can um… I’ll come back later.” His speech is slurring, and you can smell the alcohol as he speaks.

“No!” You say, too quickly. “It’s okay, I’m just getting ready for bed. You wanna come in?”

Eddie hesitates, but you step aside to let him enter. He stumbles forward, placing himself gingerly in the chair across from the bed, where you sit across from him, acutely aware of your current pantsless state. “I read the interview.” Eddie starts, looking at the floor. You cross one leg over the other, waiting for him to continue. “And I’ve been listening to the album. Your album, I mean. It’s great, by the way, really fucking great.” He won’t look at you, instead focused on fiddling with his rings. You don’t respond, unsure where he’s going. “I came to say I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen. This was the furthest thing from what you were expecting. “For what?”

Eddie slides further into the chair. “Everything. I’ve been such an asshole since the tour started. Especially to you. I wanna say I didn’t mean it, but I did. I wanted to hurt you. Flirting with all those girls, playing that fuckin’ song in front of you. I meant all of it.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You doubt Eddie will even remember this conversation tomorrow, so you refuse to let his words convince you of anything. You don’t answer, just blink at him as he continues searching for the words to explain himself.

“I was trying to ignore it, I guess. How I felt about seeing you again. I was hiding it, and probably really poorly. I can't imagine it’s been easy for you, either, but you seem so happy. And it’s made me realize how horrible I’ve been.” He looks up from the floor then, his eyes searching yours for an answer. His face is flushed, his hair disheveled, and his lips are set in the pout that always got your heart stalling.

You clear your throat quickly, knowing it will crack under the pressure otherwise. “Eddie, it’s not your fault. You didn’t force this tour to happen. It’s an unfortunate coincidence.” He winces at your words, and you rush to correct yourself. “I mean, we didn’t know we’d see each other like this. We weren’t prepared. The way you’ve been acting, though hurtful, is completely understandable.” You want to cry. You want to throw Eddie out of your hotel room so you can sob into your pillow. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“Why’d you leave?” He asks after a long moment of silence. “What happened to us?”

You know he’s drunk, and you shouldn’t be indulging him, but you’ve wanted to say so much to him since breaking it off, and you’re still a bit tipsy. “I was losing you. To groupies, to the label, to whatever you had become, and I didn’t think it was fair to fight it. This is all you’ve ever wanted, all we ever talked about when we were together. And you got it! The only thing you ever wanted. And I am beyond proud of you, Eddie. Who was I to pull you away from it? I couldn’t hold you back from this, but I couldn’t live in the background either. I couldn’t make you choose between me and your dream, so I chose for you.” Your voice falters as you explain, eyes threatening to spill the tears they harbor. “You deserve everything you ever want, Ed. I truly believe that.” You don’t tell him you still wish he wanted you.

Eddie is less than graceful in his response. “I would’ve chosen you. Over and over again, Y/n. I wish I hadn’t made you feel like you were my backup, my plan B. I lost sight of us, I know that now.” You sigh, your heart breaking as he speaks. Years ago, it’s all you wanted to hear. But it’s too little, too late now. “It got to my head, having you and getting signed. I felt like I could have it all. It got overwhelming, and I didn’t realize what I was doing to you. You were right to leave, and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out. I blamed you for my misery when I caused all of it myself.”

You get up from the bed, and approach Eddie, kneeling beside the chair so he’s forced to look at you. “I appreciate the apology, Ed. I know you mean it. But I needed to leave for my own sake, too. I couldn’t keep competing with you, with all of the attention you were getting. I needed to focus on my own dreams, and I couldn’t convince you to root for me the way I had for you. Now that I’m here, I’m glad it happened this way. I wouldn’t have gotten here any other way.” You rest your hand on his knee, and you feel a drop fall from his cheek onto your finger. “You’ll always be special to me. I need you to know that.”

Eddie nods, sniffling. You stand up and offer him your hand. He takes it hesitantly, and you feel the familiarity of his calloused fingers entwined with yours. You can’t bring yourself to let go as he gets to his feet, missing the way his skin feels on yours. “Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” You lead him out of your room and down the hall. “You got your key?”

Eddie clumsily pats his many pockets before finding his key card in his vest. He swipes it, and you pull him into the messy room, the bed unmade, empty beer bottles lining the nightstand and entertainment center. Eddie collapses onto the bed, and you get to work yanking his shoes off the way you used to after a long night out. He’s still in his jeans, but you don’t make a move to take them off. He’s not yours to take care of anymore, and if he wakes up uncomfortable, it’s not your problem. “Okay. Goodnight, Eddie.” You’re about to leave when you hear him whisper something. “What was that?” You don’t want to believe what you think you heard, but he says it again, clearer this time. “I’d still choose you.” You press your lips together, stifling your sobs as you close the door behind you. You can’t bring yourself to believe him.

—

chapter viii

Present Day

Your POV

You wake up to an empty bed, the space Eddie once occupied now cold as your eyes open, reorienting yourself. Outside the tiny window, the sun is rising over the Washington horizon, and you feel a wave of peace wash over you. After tonight, you have a whole week off to do whatever you want, in a city that’s become a kind of home to you since leaving Eddie.

Seattle is special, a place you never mind being in, even with its constant rain and uptight citizens. It’s the place grunge was born, and a place you’ve always thrived. Playing here is a dream come true, and you can only beg the universe for it to go well.

The tour buses pull into a rest stop off the highway, and you shove the comforter off your sweaty body. You’d slept fully clothed, something you hadn’t done in a number of years. With the added layers, plus Eddie’s extra body heat, your hair sticks to the sides of your face.

Sliding open the door, Steve greets you with a sleepy smile. “Morning! Sleep alright?”

“As well as I could, all things considered.” You try to hide your embarrassment. You’d slept better next to Eddie than you’ve slept in your own bed, but that’s not something Steve needs to know.

“Well, you’re free now. Go grab some food, we’re almost at the hotel.”

You nod and shuffle through the bus, weaving through the guys of Corroded Coffin, who stand in the hall chatting and chewing on what look to be soggy French fries. You notice Eddie’s voice lower as you approach him and Gareth in the breakfast booth.

“Aw, leaving already?” Gareth teases as Eddie avoids your eyes next to him.

“Haha, yeah. I can tell when I’ve overstayed my welcome.” Eddie’s eyes flick to your face, and you challenge him with yours. You want him to tell you you’re still welcome, you’re always welcome, but he doesn’t say a word, so you turn and exit the bus.

-

Eddie’s POV

The door clicks shut behind you, and Eddie turns back to his bandmate. “Anyway, as I was saying, I have never jumped out of bed so quickly in my life. I woke up and they were like, pressed into me.”

“Were you hard?” Gareth chokes out a laugh at Eddie’s flustering.

“I’m only a man. Of course I was! I debated rolling onto the floor and just never getting back up.” Eddie grins as he speaks, remembering the panic as he bolted upright in bed, dick stiff against his sweatpants as you snored soundly next to him.

“You think they know?”

Eddie shrugs. “God, I fucking hope not.”

Gareth cackles and Eddie shoved him playfully. Truthfully, it was the best sleep he’s gotten in awhile, and he’s forced to admit it’s because of you. Everything about your presence stresses him out, but sleeping next to you has been something he’s mourned for the last two years.

“You guys all set to get moving soon? Ed, go get some food, I haven’t seen you eat in days.” Steve’s standing over the little table, hands on his hips like he’s a soccer mom disappointed in her poorly performing child.

“Yes sir,” Eddie mockingly salutes his friend, who responds with a dramatic roll of his eyes. Eddie slides out of the booth and off the bus, the humid air hitting him in the face as he walks into the rest stop.

You stand with Robin and your other bandmates, in line for greasy burgers as you wipe the sleep from your eyes. You’re still in your sweats and a shredded t-shirt. You lean your head on Robin’s shoulder, seemingly fighting sleep from taking over again. Eddie gets in line behind you, careful to keep his distance.

“Hey, sleepyhead!” Robin turns to greet him, her eyes wide and sparkly.

“Mornin’, Bob.” Eddie grumbles, voice raspy from lack of much use yet today.

“Sleep okay?” He hears the teasing in her tone, but chooses to ignore it.

“Well enough,” He looks at you, and you’re studying the tiles on the floor like a museum exhibit. “I’m ready for a week off, though. Might fly out to Indiana early, go see everyone.” Eddie hasn’t been back since he moved out, shortly after graduation. “You guys got any plans?”

Robin shrugs. “I’ll probably go back home in a few days.”

You nod. “I dunno, I live out here now but it would be cool to see everyone. I’d need to get a hotel, or maybe,” you look at Robin, “my ever so lovely best friend can house me?”

“You know you’re always welcome, my mom adores you.” You beam at her, and Eddie fights the urge to stare, your bright smile now a rarity he likes to cherish when you’re not paying attention.

You and Robin order your food, bidding Eddie adieu for now. He gives you a small smile, but you don’t return it.

-

The buses pull into the hotel parking lot, the rain coming down hard now. He grabs his duffel from under the bus, using it to shield his hair from the weather. Steve is talking to the concierge, looking far more stressed than usual.

“What’s up?” Eddie leans an arm on the hotel desk, and tries to ignore the way the young girl at the desk ogles him.

“They don’t have enough rooms.” Steve rubs his face in frustration.

“Okay, no problem, we can all share.” Eddie’s trying to be optimistic, much to the confusion of his best friend.

“Well, I mean, we definitely could. I’m not sure how that would work, honestly. They have enough doubles for most of us, but-“

The hotel clerk interrupts. “I mean, if you and Y/n take the single, you’d all be set!” She’s practically squealing.

“Ah, so you know who we are, then?” Eddie jokes, causing the girl to blush.

“Of course I know who you are! And Y/n, and both of your bands. I’m a huge fan!” She rambles on, and Eddie feels a pang in his chest. There’s no way you’re gonna let this fly.

Steve sends Eddie a questioning glance, and he shrugs in response. “You’ll have to talk to them. I’m adaptable, I’ll manage.”

As if on cue, you’ve appeared on Steve’s other side. “Why’re you all stressed, Mama bear?” you tease, poking at Steve’s bicep playfully. “Did this lovely lady reject your advances?”

Steve groans. “No! I’m not being creepy, we’re trying to sort out the room situation. They have five. Four doubles, one queen.” He doesn’t continue, awaiting a reaction.

You blink at him. “Okay, that’s enough for everyone, no?”

“It is, if-“

“If Eddie and I take the queen? Because everyone else here is completely platonic with a capital P?” There’s not a hint of irritation in your voice, much to Eddie’s surprise. It’s then that your eyes land on him. “Is that okay with you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Eddie says dumbly, barely hearing you over the banging in his chest. “That’s fine. What’s another night?” He winces as it comes out, realizing how it sounds.

You nod curtly, tight lipped before you look back to Steve. “Book ‘em, big boy. No need to be dramatic.” You give him a pat on the shoulder. As an afterthought, and meeting eyes with the enthusiastic concierge, you approach Eddie again. “I’ll see you tonight, then? If you decide to come back in the first place.” Before he realizes what happens, you’re on your tiptoes. In his ear, you whisper, “I’m gonna kiss you on the cheek now. Because it’s gonna make this girl lose her mind. Okay?”

Blood is pounding in Eddie’s head as he nods. Your lips barely graze his cheek, warm and soft against his scratchy stubble. He closes his eyes, but before he can focus, it’s over, and his cheek is cold again.

“Bye guys! Bye,” You squint at the clerk’s name tag, “Hannah. Nice to meet you, thanks for your help.” You turn, and shuffle back to the elevators, probably to relay the news to your friends. Eddie can feel Hannah’s eyes burning into his skull, but he refuses to acknowledge her again, worrying his eyes will betray him. He’s never been a great liar.

Steve looks at his stunned friend, the smallest of smirks on his face. “You alright over there?” Eddie doesn’t answer, so Steve grabs him by the wrist, waving goodbye to Hannah, who’s still hypnotized by the whole interaction. Once out of earshot, he tries again. “Yoo-hoo, earth to Eddie?” He waves a hand in front of Eddie’s blank stare, snapping him out of his trance.

“What? Yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m great! I’m totally, one hundred percent fine.” He clamps his mouth shut, stifling the panic that will probably return to him later.

“They haven’t done that yet, huh?” Steve teases, no longer hiding his smirk. “You gonna be able to handle this whole fake dating thing?”

“I’m handling it fine, thank you.” Eddie snaps, and Steve raises his hands in defense. He’s not handling it well in the slightest, really.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say. I’ll drop it. But you gotta work on your poker face if you wanna be believable. Even if I had no idea, I’d be pretty skeptical right now.”

“Whatever, dude.” Eddie brushes him off as the elevator dings, and they both step inside without another word.

-

Your POV

“I need a fucking drink!” You flop, face first into Robin’s bed as you groan. Buried in the mattress, you feel safe enough to let it out. Because you can’t do this anymore, and you’re starting to push your luck. “I’mstillinlovewithhim.” Your confession is muffled by the fabric, and the only clue that Robin understands you is her reaction.

“Yeah, no shit!” Don’t think I didn’t see what you pulled down there!”

“What I pulled?” You push yourself back to your feet, jolted by the irritation in her voice.

“Kissing him like that, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.” Robin bats her eyelashes, singing a recap of the events in the lobby.

“I’m supposed to do that, Robin. I’m being paid to, actually! I was told to.” You inject as much venom into your words as possible, and Robin bites her tongue to stop from spitting back.

“Okay. You’re right, you’re right! Just,”

“Just. What.” It’s a challenge. You’ve absolutely had it with the peanut gallery. Between her and Steve, you’ve gotten a verbal retelling of every single time you and Eddie are together.

Robin has never been the type to back down from a challenge, though. “There were no cameras, Y/n. Just a starstruck fan you probably caused the heart failure of. You didn’t have to,” She flails, gesturing to your body, your face, you, “be so all over him.”

You stop short, breath caught in your throat. “Are you defending him?” Of course not. No, she wouldn’t.

“He was my friend too, Y/n. And I cut him off for you.”

Her words sting. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Not in so many words! But I saw how you treated Steve when you caught him and Eddie having a drink. You didn’t talk to him for a month.”

You don’t have a response. She looks at you, eyes wide with what you can finally recognize is anger. “You left Eddie because you thought he changed, right? Have you realized yet that maybe you changed?”

You gnaw your bottom lip until you draw blood, heart quickening as you feel a sob blooming in your chest. Before you can stop them, you feel the tears running down your cheeks.

Robin is quick to notice, and flops onto the mattress. She pats the bed next to her, and you take your seat. “What would be so bad about trying again?” There is no more accusation in her voice, she’s past fighting with you.

You sigh, resting your head in your hands. “I don’t want to admit I was wrong.” Robin is silent, so you look back up to her. She’s stifling a laugh. “What?!”

“Sorry, just hearing you say that threw me off. I know how much you value your pride, but if there’s anyone to let your guard down for, it’s gotta be Eddie. It’s always been him.”

“He just got so different when he started getting famous. I don’t know what happened in the last two years to make him revert like this, but-“

“Seeing you again probably had something to do with it.”

You keep your eyes glued on hers, searching for the punchline. “Please. If it was because of me, he wouldn’t have changed like that in the first place.”

“Okay, maybe not just because of you, but think about it! He got signed, what, only months after graduating? Moreover,” you giggle at her suddenly expansive vocabulary, “He was probably still reeling from, I dunno, almost dying? We all were. He just never got the chance to grieve, let alone get a good night’s sleep! Seeing you after all of that, when he’s been without steady ground to stand on for two years, has to be a slap in the face.”

You blink at her, debating on arguing further. You settle on a question. “Have you been talking to him?”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Lately, yeah. In passing. But it’s always been for your benefit. Before that, I’d only heard snippets from Steve, and I kept most of them to myself.”

You flop down onto the pillow, letting Robin’s words continue to wash over you. You’ve admitted to yourself that you miss him, that you want Eddie back, but the hard part still awaits you. How the fuck are you supposed to tell him?

-

Eddie’s POV

“I don’t know how much longer I can handle this, man.” Eddie sits on the end of Gareth’s bed, grabbing the stray drumstick from the bedside table and twirling it anxiously through his fingers. Gareth lay against the headboard, visibly fighting to keep his eyes open.

“What, you finally gonna tell ‘em how you feel?”

Eddie shakes his already throbbing head. “I gotta break it off.”

Gareth’s eyes are wide, suddenly alert. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I know they don’t wanna do this. I don’t either. It’s a fucking sham anyway, I thought we were against that shit.” Eddie pushes himself back to his feet, pacing the length of the hotel room.

“Dude, I know you just came here to vent or whatever, but can I give you some advice?” Eddie looks to Gareth finally, and his expression is pleading.

Eddie could use the help, too. “Please.”

“Throw it out there. Worst case scenario, they don’t want ya back, you grieve a little, get laid a little, and move on. But you can’t keep doing this tiptoe bullshit. It’s exhausting to watch.”

Despite himself, Eddie chuckles. “You make a good argument.”

“What stopped you, this time? You used to have no shame.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest.

It’s an easy answer. Eddie has thrown fits over this question, wondering what changed about his internal wiring to cause such a glitch in his ability to use his words with you. “Because now, I know what it’s like without them. And if I fuck up, if I say something I can’t take back, then I’m living in that reality. The one with no them. No Y/n.” His face is getting warmer with embarrassment as he blubbers, but Gareth doesn’t even crack a smile.

Instead, he rises from his spot on the bed, opening his arms to Eddie. Eddie takes the offer, quickly wrapping his arms around his friend. “Thanks, man.” His words are muffled by Gareth’s vest.

He pats Eddie on the back warmly. “Anytime, bro.”

The two release each other, awkwardly laughing at their circumstances. “So, what’re you gonna do?” Gareth’s question is barely audible.

“Whatever I have to.”

“Okay, man. But maybe take a nap before we have to leave for the gig. you look wiped.”

-

Your POV

You’re in search of your third, fourth, and fifth drinks of the night. You’d only asked for two on your rider, one for before your set and one after, but you’d downed them both within minutes of arriving at the venue.

The house is slowly filling with people as you make your way to the bar, speakers wailing along to Seattle’s finest. Currently, Call Me a Dog floats through the room, and you let Chris Cornell sing your feelings for you, not caring that you probably look insane, swaying dreamily along to the music by yourself, hair half done, empty bottle in your white knuckle grip.

The bartender approaches you, and you order another drink as you feel a presence looking over your shoulder. You have a 50/50 shot of guessing who it is in this low lighting, but you don’t wanna risk being wrong, so you shift to look behind you.

“Hi, Steve.” You can feel his disappointed glare as the bar man returns with your cocktail. You make a scene of hiding the glass with your body as you pull it closer to you.

“You still have an hour before you go on, and you’re already wasted.” He doesn’t phrase it like a question, but you nod anyway. “What’s goin’ on?”

It’s tiring, repeating yourself. You almost wish you hadn’t told Robin to keep it quiet. “I’m gonna tell Eddie I still have feelings for him.” It’s a confession, finally saying the words out loud. Steve’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t object. He sits beside you at the bar, hunching forward to hear you better. “I’m so sick of pretending I don’t feel anything for him. I don’t know how he feels about me, and I think this is the only way to find out.”

“Or, I mean, you could just take my word for it. Or Robin’s, or anyone else’s.” He snickers as you shove him. “I’m kidding! I think it’s a good idea, finally put these dramatics to rest.”

“I just don’t know how to do it, it’s like I forget every word in the English language when I’m around him.”

“Trust me when I tell you it won’t matter. Whatever you say, he’s gonna fall apart. He’s already in the palm of your hand, dude.” Steve wraps his arm around you, squeezing you tightly. You rest your head on your shoulder, sipping your vodka cran and letting the alcohol give you courage.

-

Eddie’s POV

He watches as you rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around you. It stops him in his tracks, seeing you huddled like that with one of his best friends. It’s like he’s hit in the chest, knocking the wind out of him. He knows he has to end it, for real, for good. You don’t feel the same way about him, it’s clearer to Eddie now more than ever.

He’s about to walk over to you, but he’s caught by a figure in his peripheral vision. He meets the eyes of a small girl with spiked hair and clanging metal on her jeans. He waves to her shyly, unsure if she’ll have the courage to approach him.

She gains it from the acknowledgment, though, and shuffles up to him timidly. “Hi, oh my god. I’m so sorry for being weird, I wasn’t sure you wanted to talk to anyone. It’s so nice to meet you!” She extends a manicured hand and Eddie shakes it. “I’m Izzy. Would you mind signing this?” She holds out a record, Corroded Coffin’s first album, Depravity of Doomed Souls. The cover depicts a man facing away from the camera, looking out into a horizon of burning red sky, clouds thick and dark hanging over him. Below him are the skeletal hands of a crowd, clawing at where the man stands on the top of a platform. Eddie holds it for a second, chuckling to himself.

“Man, this thing is ancient. We wrote this four years ago.” He scribbles in the top right corner, To Izzy, stay metal! -EM similarly to how he’d once signed his friends’ yearbooks.

“It got me through my senior year. Especially Martyrdom and Other Mistakes. It made me feel seen!” The sentiment makes Eddie smile. He never gets sick of hearing how his music has impacted his fans. It does suck, though, to relate the that particular track.

“Man, of all songs, huh?”

Izzy shrugs. “Satanic Panic was huge at the time, and I was, well,” she gestures to her outfit, a collaboration of leather, studs, chains, and spikes.

Eddie nods. “But look at us now, huh! Rockin’ out, just like we were in high school.”

He hands the record back to her, and she smiles at the autograph. “Hey,” she adds, as Eddie searches the bar for you, but you’re gone, probably setting up for your set. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Ah, fuck it. He’ll see you later, anyway. “Sure.”

-

He’s three beers deep when your set ends. Izzy’s been talking his ear off. “And Y/n is so fuckin’ cool, man. You got one of the sickest songwriters and group of performers on your tour. Do you know if they’re single?”

The question snaps his attention back to her. “What?”

“Y/n. Are they single?” Does she not know? Has she never picked up a magazine?

“Uh,” What is he supposed to say? Technically, you are. And he doesn’t want to get in the way of a possible romantic interest. However, to the public, you’re not. You’re dating him. Izzy’s cool, sure, but she’s still the public. He can’t tell her it’s a sham, that’s above his pay grade.

Izzy speaks again. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude on anything.”

“No! No, it’s okay,” Eddie rushes out, stumbling for an answer.

But Izzy studies him, and sees something on his face that makes her say, “Oh, I get it.”

He doesn’t. “Get what?”

“You like Y/n, you must! How could you not?!” How the fuck is he so easily read that a stranger can do it?!

He scoffs out a nervous laugh. “Is it that obvious?”

Izzy smirks like she’s discovered a secret. “Well, you guys would make a terribly attractive couple. Consider me rooting for you.”

“You got any advice?”

Izzy laughs. “Not for you specifically, considering your, uh, status. But, in general, I’ve found it better not to lie. Don’t spare your feelings, or theirs. Tell ‘em everything. Because one day, you might be dead.”

Eddie sits with her words, and knows deep down that she’s right. Lying to you isn’t going to make anything easier. He has to know, for sure, that you don’t feel the same way about him. Eddie’s about to respond when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns to make eye contact with Steve’s arms, crossed over his chest. “You're needed on stage.”

“Yessir,” Eddie bows to Steve, who rolls his eyes before walking back towards the stage. He turns to Izzy. “Thank you for the drinks, Izzy. And for the enlightening conversation.”

She snickers. “Knock ‘em dead, Eddie!” She claps her hands together, cheering him on.

-

Your POV

“Well?” You’ve been pacing the hall backstage while Steve went to find Eddie. “Who is she?”

Steve shrugs. “Didn’t bother to even introduce me. But she had a Corroded Coffin record, must be a fan.”

“Or a groupie.” You mumble. You’re about to keep arguing when Eddie rushes past you, gulping the final sip of his beer.

“Hey, Y/n,” Eddie stops short when he sees you, his face red and hair disheveled. “Can we talk later?”

You’re already thinking of the worst case scenario. He’s gonna tell you he wants nothing to do with you, even for the press. He and Izzy hit it off and you’re getting left in the dust. You fight the thought, though. Regardless of what it is, you’re gonna tell him what you have to. “Sure, yeah.”

He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear “Great, cool. Uh, meet me outside, like an hour after the set.” You nod, lips pressed together.

The house music fades, the final lines of I Want The Moon fading as the lights dim, and the crowd goes wild. You watch as Eddie walks onstage, holding himself well despite the amount of alcohol he’s likely consumed. His smile is bright as the spotlight hits him, and Gareth clicks his sticks together.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS UP, SEATTLE?!” Eddie shrieks into the mic, and Corroded Coffin takes off into their set, deafening you with the first chord.

-

You’re by the stage door when the final notes of Corroded Coffin’s set play, muffled by the brick of the building. You stub out your second cigarette, still anxious for what awaits you. You don’t have the first clue as to what Eddie wants to say to you. He could be ready to break this whole thing off, and then what? What will telling him do then? Should you tell him first? But then, will his feelings be influenced? The last thing you wanna do is try to convince him.

Your thoughts are interrupted when the stage door swings open. Eddie peeks out quickly, making sure there are no stray fans or paparazzi hiding in the bushes. “Hey, you.” He greets, stepping into the floodlights. He pulls out a cigarette and pats his pockets. When he comes up empty, he groans. “You gotta light?” You nod, flicking your lighter up to his cigarette. He inhales with his eyes still glued to yours, but you watch the flame intently. “Thanks.”

You reach for another stick for yourself, and light it quickly. “What did you, uh, wanna talk about?”

“Right to it, huh? No ‘Great show, Ed!’ Well, love, your set was fantastic too.” He’s being playful, clearly still buzzed.

“My apologies, your highness. You’ve set the record of most panties dropped in one place.” It’s a low joke, but you’re desperate to keep talking around the reason you’re both really out here.

“Oh yeah? Were yours included?” Oh, fuck off.

You shrug. “That’s for me to know.” Eddie laughs heartily, and you almost melt on the spot. You used to be so good at making him laugh, and it’s so hard to remember the last time you managed to. “Anyway,” you interrupt his cackling, “please, the anticipation is killing me.” You gesture for him to speak.

Eddie’s smile falters slightly, clearly affected by your palpable anxiety. “Right, yeah. Izzy’s a fan, by the way.”

“Ooh, Izzy. She was awfully snuggled up to you tonight.”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I could say the same thing about you and Steve.”

“How many times do I have to assure you our relationship is Platonic with a Capital P?!”

“Things change, Y/n! For all I know you two could be bumpin’ uglies once a week.”

Your jaw snaps shut before you can hurl an insult at him. Instead, you quiet your voice. “Can you just tell me what you needed to tell me? I didn’t come out here to fight about who’s fucking whom.”

Eddie sighs. “Fine. But for the record, Izzy asked me to sign her album. Then, she bought me a drink and told me how pretty you were. That’s it..” You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Eddie frowns. “I’m serious, she asked me if you were single!”

“Has she not read the articles? I’m supposedly dating you.” It hurts not to mean it, but joking around with Eddie feels vaguely comforting.

Eddie shrugs. “She never mentioned seeing that. But she did call me out in a way.” He’s quiet, so you nod for him to go on. “She clocked me looking at you. Guess I’m pretty transparent when I’m drunk.” His smile is shy suddenly, and before you can answer him, he speaks again. “Listen, I uh, I don’t want to do this fake dating thing. I thought about it, and I think it’s stupid.” You bite your lip to keep from arguing, or interrupting despite the insatiable urge to shriek. Eddie continues, not noticing your struggle, his brow furrowed in determination. “Cash grab or not, it’s fucking with my head. It’s already too much to see you every day. and doing all of this,” he gestures between you and himself, “on top of that, is exhausting.”

You wait for more, but nothing comes. You search his expression for a hint, a cause for why he doesn’t want to be around you anymore. You can’t find anything. “Oh. Okay. I’m really sorry if I did something that-“

Eddie shakes his head, cutting you off. “No, not at all. It’s nothing like that. I just,” he stops, chewing his bottom lip in thought. “I don’t want just some of it.”

That wakes you up. “What?”

“Y’know, the flashy stuff and nothing else? Holding your hand, a kiss or two for the fans, but then we run away from each other when we’re alone. It’s not…” He searches for the right word, “enough for me.” Enough? As in, he wants more from you? You don’t answer, struggling to understand where he’s going with this.

“I mean, I can talk to Steve. Maybe he can talk to the execs, get the word out that we ‘broke up’ or whatever.” You’re trying so hard not to cry as you speak. You got your answer, he doesn’t want it anymore.

“Or,” Eddie takes a step closer to you, and you lose your nerve. You feel a single hot tear slide down your cheek as Eddie searches your face for your answer. Seemingly without thinking, Eddie reaches up and wipes it away with his thumb. “You could tell me how you feel.”

It’s now or never. “I’m thinking,” you start, voice shaky. “I think you’re right. It’s not enough. We need to get married.”

Eddie startles. “Sorry?”

You laugh despite yourself. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t have a ring.”

He rolls his eyes at your weak attempt at humor. “Can you not joke about this for like five seconds, please?” Eddie pleads, and you soften as you look at him. His eyes are wide, still locked on yours. “I need to know I’m not crazy.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “You and I both know you are, in fact, crazy. But fine, I’ll try to appease you.” It’s your turn to step closer, and now you’re only two inches apart. “In all seriousness, I can’t do it either. I don’t want to hold your hand because people are watching. I wanna hold your hand because I can, because I want to. I wanna kiss your stupid face in front of everyone and no one, I wanna sleep next to you by choice and not for convenience. I’m so tired, Eddie. I’ve been so tired trying not to feel this way, but I can’t make it stop.” You talk to his chest, too afraid to look at him. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you, the real you, until this tour. I hadn’t seen that version of you, that smiles and laughs and fucks around with his friends, in so many years. It’s like you came back to life.”

“You know why, right?” Eddie keeps his voice low, as if trying not to break the moment. His hand reaches for yours, and he plays with your fingers as he speaks. “You know what finally brought me back to life?”

You shake your head, refusing to meet his eyes. But Eddie, ever the tactile gentleman, cups your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. “C’mon. I’ll give you one guess.”

You don’t answer, lost in the big brown eyes you haven’t really looked into since leaving him. Everything you two have gone through since meeting hits you like a ton of bricks. From surviving high school, to the Upside Down, to getting signed, to breaking up. Through it all, he was going through it right next to you. You shake your head, refusing to believe what he’s saying.

“You.” Eddie halts your speeding train of thought with one word. “Watching you perform, listening to your music, reading your interviews. Even just knowing you’re right outside, in the other bus. I meant it when I said I’d give it all up for you, Y/n. But, if I can be so brutally honest, I think I’d love having both, way more.” He’s so close, you can feel his breath on your face. You don’t pull away, despite your brain screaming at you to run away. “Now that I know how to behave.”

After a beat, you speak. “You can, y’know.”

“Can what?” He raises an eyebrow, cheeks red.

“Have both. You know I’d never ask you to choose.”

“Even though you know I’d choose you?”

You shake your head. “Stupid choices, Eddie, you keep making them.”

“I’m about to make another one, I think.”

“Oh? And what choice would that be?”

“To kiss you.”

You swear your heart stops. You can’t breathe, and your hands are sweating. “What if I’m about to make that stupid choice too?”

Eddie smiles widely, and so do you. Before either of you can ruin it with more babbling, Eddie rests a hand on your cheek. You crane your neck to reach him, letting the noise in your brain be silenced as his lips touch yours. You squeeze your eyes shut, as if he’ll disappear the moment you open them. Your hands find their way into his hair, and his free arm wraps around your waist. The kiss is slow, gentle. His lips are slightly chapped, dry from the beer, and he tastes like cigarettes and him. He feels the same, like the past two years didn’t happen, like his lips never left yours. You grow eager, suddenly, pulling his face as close as you can manage, fingers twisting in his hair to keep him on you. You feel the wet warmth of your tears, falling freely from your closed eyes, but still you refuse to let him go.

-

Eddie’s POV

He’s dizzy with your kiss, desperate for it. He’s afraid once it ends, you’ll disappear through his fingers like sand. He must be dreaming, it’s the only way any of this makes sense. Your hands are tangled in his hair like they were made to be, your lips soft against his own chapped ones. He feels a tear spring from his eye, and hopes with everything you can’t tell he’s crying. He shifts himself, wrapping both arms around your waist to bring you even closer. When you deepen the kiss, licking a stripe across his bottom lip, he moans without thinking. You smile against his lips, still interlocked with him as your tongue wrestles with his. His eyes stay screwed shut, even though he wants to look at you more than anything. He wants to know what happens next, where you go from here. You’re both drunk, sure, but this is more than an alcohol induced decision.

You’re the first to pull away. “I don’t know what this means.” There’s no urgency, no panic in your voice. It is simply a statement.

Eddie blinks quickly, vision blurry. “Don’t overthink it. Not right now. We can talk about it later, I just need you to keep kissing me.” He’s past the point of patience, needing to feel your skin on his again.

Luckily, you seem to be on the same page. You lunge forward, connecting your lips to his again. At this point he’s borderline desperate, kneading the flesh of your hips with the pads of his fingers, keeping you in his grasp as if to ground himself to this plane.

-

“Eddie?” You try to call him back to you, but your voice is lost as soon as it leaves your lips. With no word of a response, or even a tell that he’s heard you, this skinwalker posing as Eddie takes another step forward, still not looking at you, but rather through you, focusing beyond where you stand in front of him, hypnotized by some invisible force. Something else is controlling him. “Eddie, I know you’re in there. Can you hear me?”

Before you can react, its hands are around your neck, squeezing hard as it lifts you into the air. You kick at Fake Eddie, swinging your limbs to break his grip on your throat. Behind you, you hear the creature again, louder and deeper now, saying “Finish it, Eddie.”

You try again, using your last breaths to get through to Eddie, the real Eddie, trapped somewhere underneath this monster using him as a puppet. “Eddie,” you gasp, choking on your words, “Please, Eddie. Let go!”

He does not lower you back down, does not come to, realizing what he’s done. This monster snaps your neck, and discards you on the ground.

—

Eddie’s POV

He stirs first, much to Eddie’s own surprise. Next to him, you’re mumbling in your sleep, your expression tense. He catches “Please, Eddie,” but not said with any of the satisfaction he would have liked.

“Hey,” He whispers, shaking you gently. “Y/n, wake up.” A tear streams down your face, your eyes still screwed shut. Eddie feels the sting in his throat when you shake your head, mumbling repeated pleas of mercy until you’re choking, coughing and sputtering, and Eddie goes into panic mode. Eddie rolls you onto your back and straddles you, knowing if you wake up now you’re prone to swinging your limbs at him. He places a hand on either cheek, something he’d discovered you’d found comforting in the past.

Your breathing eventually slows, evening out as your heart rate calms. Your eyes flutter open, and as they adjust to the light, Eddie gives you a soft smile, his hands still on your cheeks.

“Eddie?”

“Good morning, sunshine. Rough night?” He isn’t moving from on top of you, and you don’t protest when he leans in to kiss your forehead. As his lips connect to your skin, someone’s knocking on your door. Before either of you can answer, Steve throws it open.

“Whoa!” He holds his hands up in front of his face, as if to shield his eyes from something far more inappropriate than the scene before him.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie swings himself off of you, flipping his body back onto the bed beside you, crossing his arms. “Y’know, knocking is supposed to be a call and response thing. Like, you knock, and someone says ‘Come in!’ or ‘Not right now!’”

“Sorry, man, I have Managerial Privilege. The knock was a polite warning.”

They bicker, Steve quickly turning to face away from you and Eddie, unable to meet either of your eyes. “God, that was fuckin’ fast!”

“What?” you throw the duvet off your body, and your warmth leaves Eddie’s side as you stand up. “What happened fast?”

“Nothing, just, well, I guess I didn’t expect to see you guys in here, uh, under the covers…” He trails off, gesturing vaguely to where Eddie lay, sprawled out in his parents’ bed, no shirt. It's a compromising position. You’re in Eddie’s shirt and your underwear, a much too familiar sight for Eddie’s very sore eyes.

“Oh. Oh! God, Steve,” You groan, rolling your eyes. “We didn’t…” you pause, trying to remember last night. You turn to him, your eyes filled with fear. “Did we?”

Eddie shakes his head vigorously, blushing at your suggestion. “No, not at all. Nothing like that.”

Relief floods over your features. “Oh, good. Great, thank god!” Your laugh is anxious, and Eddie feels his heart hammer in his chest.

“Oh. Well, good. We’ve got a lot of work to do, cleaning this place up before we go back to Nancy’s. So, rise and shine!” Steve says an awkward goodbye to the two of you, closing the door behind him.

—

Your POV

You turn back to face Eddie, wishing immediately that you hadn’t. His hands are clasped behind his head, looking at you with an unashamed lust in his eyes, a look you’d recognize regardless of the situation. “Quit staring, Munson.”

“Why? ‘Fraid I’ll seduce ya?”

You roll your eyes. “Something like that.” You don’t miss the blush on his cheeks when you answer him. “Get off your ass, we’re the clean-up crew.”

Eddie rolls out of bed, making a show of stretching his arms out wide as he yawns. You find yourself scanning your eyes down his torso. “Would you stop?!”

“Stop what?” He pouts innocently.

“You know what!” You gesture to his body, then to his arms still stretched into the air.

“No,” Eddie drops his arms and takes a step closer to you. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Another step towards you, closing the gap between your bodies. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m doing?” Another step and you’re pressed against the wall, unable to back away any further. You can feel his breath on your face, his eyes boring hungrily into your own. But his eyes aren’t the scary, black holes they were in your nightmare. They’re still the same soft, warm brown, but they’re sparkling with mischief. “Tell me, darlin’, ‘cause I haven’t got a clue what you mean.”

“Stop being so fucking,” you gesture again, hopelessly vague in your request. “Stop being so hot.” You grumble, avoiding watching his face shift from teasing to elated.

“Sorry, can you say that again? Maybe a little louder? I don’t think I heard that right!”

“Oh, you heard me. Now quit it, before I file a complaint!” You cross your arms over your chest, sure he’d be able to see your heart beating out of it like in the cartoons.

He chuckles, enjoying watching you squirm underneath him. “Alright, but just because you asked so sweetly!” Eddie backs away from you, hands raised in surrender. You take the opportunity to charge him, shoving him onto his back, flat on the mattress. It’s your turn to straddle him, pinning him to the bed as you lean over him, an arm on either side of his head. “Shit, Y/n, you’re sending me some mixed signals here!” He laughs nervously, unsure what to do with his hands.

You smirk. “Feels horrible, doesn’t it?” You lean into him, your nose inches from your face. “Thank you.” You whisper, and climb off of his lap, freeing him from your confines. “And I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asks, sitting up.

“I woke you.”

“Nah, I was up already. Hard to sleep here, I guess.”

“Yeah, you’re tellin’ me. Haven’t had a nightmare that bad since high school.” You shiver, remembering Eddie’s empty eyes, his pale hands locked around your throat, draining the life from you slowly.

“What were you dreaming about? If you don’t mind my asking. You don’t have to tell me, though.” He pats the mattress next to him, and you take the invitation, sitting with a huff.

“No, it’s okay. It was strange. You had these scary, black eyes. They were empty, like you were soulless. Something was telling you to do it, what you were doing to me,”

He cuts you off, “What was I doing?” You look at him, into his pretty face, etched with nerves.

“You were choking me. You were trying to kill me. You did kill me, actually. I woke up right when my neck snapped.” You stare forward as you remember the dream, a chill running through your blood when he’d grabbed you.

“Christ, Y/n,” He doesn’t continue. He’s averting your eyes as you try to meet his.

“Hey. This isn’t your fault, Eddie. It’s being back here, in Hawkins. Sleeping next to you didn’t cause this, you know that. You’ve seen this before.”

“It’s still scary when it happens.”

You nod. “It is. But you can’t be sulking about it, beating yourself up. There’s no one I’d rather wake up from a nightmare next to.” You lean your head on his shoulder, and he rests his head on top of yours. You stay like that for a bit, just enjoying being near him, until Steve is banging on the door again.

—

Eddie’s POV

“I dunno, man. It wasn’t like the other times, they weren’t waking up.” Eddie shoves another beer can into the overstuffed garbage bag, meanwhile Steve is scrubbing a couch cushion stained with wine.

“They did eventually, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie trails off, kicking a solo cup to the side.

“Look, Ed. It’s not your fault. You need to understand that.”

“But the nightmare was about me, Steve. Not like in high school, when we all had something to blame for this. You’re telling me it’s a coincidence they’re having nightmares again? It’s because I’m here, whether they wanna admit it or not.”

Steve shrugs. “I disagree. However, I’ve learned not to fight you on your delusions. You’ll figure it out on your own, and I can rub it in your face when the time comes.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Eddie shoves Steve, maybe a little too hard, and he shoves right back. Eddie’s ready to pounce again when you and Robin come strutting into the living room. Though you look beautiful, with your hair still messy from sleep, your clothes hanging loosely onto your body, you look exhausted. Your eyelids flutter every few seconds, and you’re stifling yawns as Robin pulls Steve away from Eddie. It aches, for Eddie to see you so tired, especially during what is supposed to be your vacation.

You catch him staring, and you send him as much of a smile as you can muster, but Eddie can’t bring himself to return it. “Backyard is free of any and all paraphernalia.” You turn to Steve, reporting like a loyal boy scout. “Anything else we can help with?” Robin turns to you with a forced smile, unwilling to continue suffering through her hangover.

Steve catches her, rolling his eyes. “ No, thank you. Go back to Nancy’s, clean yourselves up. I, uh, have a surprise.”

Eddie’s eyes widen at the admission. “Oh?”

Steve winces, scratching the back of his head, suddenly shy. “Don’t worry about it now, I’ll be there in a few hours.

Eddie’s chest tightens, and without meaning to he whips his head to look at you. Luckily, you don’t notice his less than subtle reaction, your neck is craned toward the ceiling, your eyes squeezed shut. “Steven, I swear to fucking god,”

“It’s not bad! It’s not finalized yet, I’m obviously not confirming anything until I get your input.”

You groan, and Eddie can’t help but giggle at the all too familiar sound. He’s used to being on the receiving end of that sound, in vastly different situations. Your head snaps back to him, eyes daggering into his own. “What’s so fucking funny?”

His heart hammers. There is no right answer here, and he knows it. “Uh, hm,” he clears his throat, “How you know what he’s gonna say before he even asks.” He shrugs.

You squint at him, waiting for him to break, you know that’s not what he was laughing at. In front of Steve, though, he refuses. Instead he throws you a smirk, daring you to continue. You huff, turning back to look at Steve, a rare victory for Eddie. “Steve,” You turn your attention back to your friend, who’s looking from you to Eddie, confused. “What the hell did you do?”

“Nothing!” He defends, hands raised. “Nothing bad, I’ll tell you later. Go take a nap or something, I’ll be over in a bit. You too, big guy.” Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder, making him stumble into you. You catch him, shoving him away from you, too harshly in Eddie’s opinion.

-

Your POV

“What could he possibly have done?” You’re stressed, ranting to Robin and Eddie as you shove your way into Nancy’s house. She’s already made breakfast, and it waits on the table as you stumble over the threshold.

“Morning! Hope you guys are hungry.” She gestures to the buffet of breakfast food, steaming on their individual platters. You pull a chair out, plopping down and plucking pieces of everything onto your plate. Eddie and Robin follow suit, as the rest of your bandmates join the feast.

“What do you think he did?” You inquire, mouth full of pancake.

“Who? What happened?” Sylvie is barely awake, their hair wild and eyes sleepy.

“Steve claims he has a surprise,” Robin fills them in, waving her fork. “Personally, I hope it’s a shopping spree, been dying for some new show outfits.”

You roll your eyes, and turn to the man next to you. Eddie’s staring at the wall,

his once steaming eggs and bacon growing cold. He doesn’t return your glance, though you’re sure he can sense you staring at him. “Eddie?”

He jumps, fork clattering against his plate, jolting the rest of the group’s attention to him.

“Hm, what?” He looks from you, to Robin, to Nancy, to the rest of the table, all trying not to stare at him.

“Do you have any theories? About what Steve could’ve done?”

“Oh,” Eddie shakes his head, as if willing himself to be normal. “Who knows? Probably booked us a show or something. We all know the suits don’t really believe in vacation.” He chuckles, picking at his food before getting up abruptly. “I gotta, uh,” Eddie points vaguely toward the door, pushing himself from the table. He clears his full plate, then stomps out into the front yard.

“What the hell was that?” Nancy asks, her neck craning to look out the window facing the garden.

“Fuck if I know,” You shrug. Eddie’s been weird all morning, and you’ve got a curious itch. Before you can follow him out, though, you watch as Steve approaches him in the front yard, lighting a cigarette as Eddie chiefs his own. You squint, trying to read their lips, maybe Eddie does know something. But why wouldn’t he tell you?

-

Eddie’s POV

“As in Hideout owner Dan?” Eddie takes another long drag from his cigarette, bouncing his leg nervously.

Steve nods frantically, “He said he wants you to do a show there, both of you,” Steve jerks his head toward the house. “But I can tell him no, just say the word.”

“No, I mean, don’t say no,” Eddie rubs his hand down his face, trying to wipe away his fatigue. “Ask Y/n first, before I ask the guys.”

“Why don’t you ask them?” Steve means to tease, but Eddie grumbles his response. “What was that?”

“I don’t wanna talk to them right now!” Eddie exclaims, suddenly irritated. “And it’s your job as their manager to do it, anyway.”

“What’s got your panties in a bunch?” Steve scoffs, throwing his cigarette on the sidewalk, squishing it with his toe before turning to Eddie.

Eddie huffs. “Sorry, nothing. Just,” He heaved out a breath of smoke, blowing it away from where Steve stands. “I’m just on edge being here, I guess. But I wanna do it, of course I wanna play the Hideout again, it’s been years.”

Steve places a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder, forcing him to look at his face. “I know. It’s hard for all of us, but it’s something we had to do. Our friends are still here, we’re still alive. This fuckin’ town can’t hurt us anymore, y’know?”

He nods, stubbing out his own cigarette on the concrete wall behind him. “Yeah. That’s true.”

“Alright, I’ll go let Y/n know, hopefully they’re down for it.”

-

Your POV

“I called it! Didn’t I call it?” You nudge Robin and she nods, her eyes still sleepy. “Steve, you’re so predictable. Of course we’ll do it! I haven’t played the Hideout since that open mic years ago. It’ll be so cool to have people here for us. How do we get the word out?”

“Well, there’s the rub. I was told ‘guerilla marketing’” He throws up air quotes, “is super effective in this type of situation. Fliers, word of mouth.”

“Do we have time for that?”

“Show’s on Friday,”

“This Friday?!” Sylvie squeaks. “That’s in three days!”

“I mean, you guys are huge. Coffin’s huge. You can do this in three days! That’s nothin’!” Steve shoots you an anxious smile. “Right?”

You shrug. “We got what, six kids in college right now? With friends in the area, I hope? I think we could pull it off.” You look to your bandmates, wearing various expressions of anxiety. “We can make some calls, too, I’m sure.”

“Sick, let’s get moving! We can go print some fliers, just need someone to make up a raw version of the poster.”

“I can do that.” Eddie strolls through the doorway, hands on his hips. “Been dying for a reason to draw again. That okay?” He looks at you, waiting for your approval. You nod. “Cool. I’ll plan out a few different ideas by tonight.”

-

The agreed upon flier is drawn by Eddie, depicting a guitar on fire, with the headline IT’S A SECRET! Find Us at The Hideout, use the code word DANCING COFFIN with Friday’s date. They go up around Hawkins telephone poles, in Family Video, the arcade, even Enzo’s let you hang one in their doorway.

Friday comes more quickly than any of you are ready for, and you spend the whole day picking outfits and putting together a setlist.

“I think you and Eddie should play that song.” Lilith comments, twirling her drumstick. “Like a one night only treat!”

You blow a raspberry, pulling out a pair of platform sandals to pair with the flowy skirt you’ve chosen for tonight. “We haven’t even practiced it recently, there’s no way.”

Lilith shrugs. “Two talented musicians, I feel like you could pull it off.”

“Even if we could, who says I want to?” You turn to face your friends, sitting on the guest bed. “All of this is because of him, as much as I hate admitting it. He’s the reason. Getting on that stage with him will just add to it.”

“You have too much pride, Y/n. And such a weird complex with Eddie, it’s such old news!” Robin exclaims, standing suddenly. “You got here because of your talent. Sure, he might’ve been the inspiration, might have given you a hand in the very beginning, but you’re here because of you, because of us! Rude of you to discredit your band like that.”

-

Eddie’s POV

“All of this is because of him. He’s the reason…” Eddie walks away before he hears the rest, resisting the urge to put his fist through the wall. I knew it. He thinks, sulking back downstairs. The nightmares, they’re his fault. He’d desperately hoped he’d been wrong, but that’s impossible.

“Hey, you get ‘em?” Steve asks, phone resting between his ear and shoulder. “Car will be here soon.”

“You got us a car? You know we could like, walk, right?”

“Not in that outfit.” Steve eyes his friend, clad in denim and chains with heavy boots despite the heat. “What’s your problem, anyway?”

“Nothin, man. Don’t worry about it.”

Steve shrugs. “Guys! Car’s on its way! Leaving in ten!” He opens the front door, motioning for Eddie to step outside.

-

The car, that is pretty much a limo, much to Eddie’s distaste, pulls around the back of The Hideout. Show goers cloaked in black outfits smoke cigarettes outside as the muted rhythm of Shadow of the Season hums through the building. You try to send him a smile as you exit the car, but he can’t bring himself to return it, instead shoving by waiting fans and into the club without a word.

He heads straight for the bar, ignoring old classmates and the wannabe groupies as he flags down the bartender. “Whiskey, neat. Please.” He has about five minutes of peace before Steve comes looking for him, and he plans to be obliterated by then.

—

chapter XVI

“I told you, all I know is that they have a tour scheduled for us.” Steve looks at his planner as he leads you, Robin, Sylvie, and Lilith into the cozy board room. The four of you had harassed him all morning, begging to know what the meeting was for. “I have no idea who we’re going with, or when, and it’s starting to piss me off.” You’d hired Steve as your manager the second you were able to pay him. Selfishly, you’d missed having him around, and he was good at the job. He took care of you all, and loved you just as much.

“But why wouldn’t they tell you who we’re touring with? That doesn’t make sense. It makes me nervous.” You bite at one painted fingernail, an anxious habit you’ve been trying to break. You enter the meeting room early, the speakers playing Territorial Pissings at an insanely high volume. You huff as you plop yourself into an office chair, bouncing your leg as your band mates surround you.

“Welcome, Death Dance Approximately!” The double glass doors open, making way for label head Bruce Pavitt, a bald man in a flannel shirt and ripped jeans. He’s always been very hands on with his bands, making sure they have whatever they need before any performance. Part of you suspects it’s to keep his own reputation, but you appreciate it regardless. “I’m sure Steve’s told you why you’re all here today. We have set up your first ever cross country tour! You’ll be supporting Corroded Coffin on their Freak Show album tour. You’re not necessarily openers, but because they’re so big, you’ll be the second band on the bill …” Bruce’s words are lost on you after that, your vision blurring as every sound in the room becomes a jumble of noises and voices. Your mouth is dry, and you can’t breathe. Is this why you weren’t told? They knew of your history with Corroded Coffin, or worse, with Eddie? You haven’t seen him in years, and the thought of touring together makes your stomach flip.

“How long has this been planned?” You interrupt finally, attempting to keep your voice level. You feel everyone’s eyes on you, and chance a look at Steve, whose face has fallen with pity for you, and to Robin, who’s chewing her bottom lip feverishly as Lilith grips her hand. Sylvie drops their head in their hands, a sigh escaping their lips.

“We finalized with CC last week.” Bruce answers flatly, attempting to gauge your reaction to the news.

You nod curtly, and heave yourself out of your seat. The second you’re out of the office, you have a cigarette between your lips, and you’re struggling to light it with shaky hands. It isn’t long before Steve is beside you, offering his own lighter to the end of your cigarette.

“What the fuck?!” You look up at your best friend, and all he can do is shake his head. “Did you know about this? Tell me the truth.” Your voice is panicked, paranoid. Why wouldn’t they tell you sooner?

“No, I had no idea. I promise. I don’t think Eddie knows either.” You roll your eyes at his words. You don’t like remembering Steve and Eddie still talk, but it comforts you knowing he’ll be blindsided too.

“When do we leave?”

“Two weeks.”

“Two weeks?!”

“The Freak Show tour tickets have been on sale for months. They didn’t invite us on officially until today, but it’s been a plan for awhile. But I didn’t know. Eddie never mentioned waiting for another band. I don’t get it.” Steve is defeated, knowing how pissed off this news has made you, how stressed out you’ll be for the next three months. “I’m so sorry, Y/n, if I had known-“

“You would’ve told me, yeah yeah, I know. But you didn’t know, so you couldn’t tell me. There’s no use beating yourself up over it. This will be good for us. CC is huge, and to be invited to tour with them is gonna launch us to another level. If I survive it.”

Steve wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a comforting hug which you return, sobbing freely into his chest. What the fuck are you gonna do?

-

Los Angeles

Eddie’s POV

Eddie kicks his feet up on the table of the Elektra Records meeting room, lighting his second cigarette in twenty minutes. He’s barely listening to the suits talk, discussing the details of the Freak Show tour. But something catches his attention when his manager mentions “that femme grunge band.”

“Death Dance?” Eddie looks up, the cig dangling from his lips. Jeff and Gareth send each other a look of worry that Eddie clocks, and he looks back to the executive at the head of the table.

The bald man nods. “They just signed on as your featured band. They’ll go on before you, after the openers. That okay with you, Mr. Munson?”

Eddie runs a hand through his curls, staring at the table like it’s the most fascinating piece of furniture in the world. Eddie’s not a drama queen. But he’s so close to losing his shit right now, trying to let the news sink in.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine. Sounds good.” He inhales again, trying to soothe the anxiety that’s gathering in his chest. It’s been years since he’s seen you. He can’t imagine what this context will do to him. He drank himself silly when he saw you on MTV for the first time, your music video for Pretty Boy in regular rotation, causing him to fall into a months long depression he only clawed himself out of recently.

He picks at the skin around his fingers, peeling the calluses formed over years of performing. He can feel the nervous sweat on his brow, the chills on his arms. The conversation dies then, the room visibly more tense as people shuffle out, leaving their frontman to deal with the anvil that’s been dropped on his chest.

-

It’s nighttime when Eddie finally gets home. His house in LA isn’t special, a two story home with a big yard and a basement studio, but nothing extravagant. He practically punches the phone as he dials, not able to calm his nerves all day. The buzzing in his head has gotten louder, more persistent.

“Hello?” Steve picks up on the third ring, sounding exhausted.

“Hey, man.”

“Eddie, shit, man. I meant to call you. You hear already?”

“Oh, I heard. You know about this?” He accuses, bitter venom leaking from his tone.

“Why does everyone think I knew about this? Of course not, dude. I would have warned you. Both of you!”

Eddie sighs. “How’re they doing? How is—“

“Y/n? They’re freaked, Eddie.”

“You think I'm not? You think I’m super jazzed about this?”

Steve groans, and Eddie can practically hear him rubbing his face in frustration. “No, obviously not.”

“There’s nothing we can do about it now. Tour starts in two weeks. It’s not like we have any say over the labels.”

“You’ll be alright. It’s been, what? three years?”

“Two.”

“I thought you broke up in ‘89?”

Eddie bites his lip. “Yeah, officially. We stopped seeing each other in 90, though.” It was the worst six months of the relationship, sleeping together without any of the love, any of the passion you once harbored for each other. It broke Eddie’s heart more than he ever had thought possible. He’s still recovering from the final time you left him.

“Regardless,” Steve’s voice snaps him back to the present, “You’ll be alright. I got you. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“I can’t believe, after all we’ve been through, you still feel comfortable saying those words. It’s like you want to get your shit rocked.” Eddie chuckles, and Steve laughs with him. “Thanks, man. Really. And check on Y/n for me, yeah? I still worry about them.”

“Of course. They’ll never admit it, but I know you’re on their mind too. Goodnight, dude. See you soon.”

“See ya, Harrington.”

-

Your POV

“Who was that?” You plop down on Steve’s couch, a joint between your lips. Robin makes grabby hands at you, and you pass the toke to her before reaching for the chips in Sylvie’s lap.

“Uh, Eddie, actually. He got told today, too.” Steve takes his spot next to you as Robin passes him the joint. “How’re you doing?”

You read the earnestness in Steve’s eyes, and you can’t bring yourself to lie. “I’m scared. Our album releases the first day of tour, I never would have thought he’d be around for it. What’s he gonna think? When he sees that cover, if he listens to it? I’m screwed!”

Steve shakes his head. “I don’t believe that. Eddie’s never had a bad thing to say about you, all this time. Sure he’s hurt, you both are, but there’s no chance you’ll make him mad. I don’t think it’s possible.”

You roll your eyes. It’s almost a challenge. Maybe you want to piss him off, at least then you’ll know he’s hurting. Corroded Coffin has plenty of angry songs, but none of them sound like they’re about you. Maybe you’re clueless, though, missing what’s right in front of you.

“Hey,” Robin chimes in, scooting closer to you on the floor. “You have us, okay? You’re not going into this alone. We love you, we’ll make sure you’re okay the whole time.” Sylvie nods at her words, and Lilith reaches for your hand. You entwine your fingers with hers.

“I love you guys.” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it draws your friends into you, surrounding you in a group hug.

-

chapter II

You cackle at his guess. “Not even close, man. You were a fucking rockstar. Got up on stage at The Garden, and everyone was there for you. Kicked some fucking ass, might I add.” You leave the part where you jumped on stage out, not wanting to give Eddie any ideas for future Corroded Coffin shows.

“Can I tell you something?” He plops back down next to you, shaking the bed. “Remember the party? When you told me the band could be something, and I told you that was never really the plan?” You nod, and he sighs, “Well. I was lying. It’s been the only thing I’ve wanted to do since I was a kid. What you said meant a lot to me, and I wanted to believe you, but we’d just met, and I wasn’t sure if you were being serious or if you wanted to get in my pants.” He grins, and you know he’s joking.

“It was both, obviously!” You backhand him, and he fakes being hurt. “But mostly the former, I really meant it. I do mean it! You’re talented, you’ve got a great group of friends.”. You open your arms, and he scoops you into his, wrapping his legs around your waist like a koala. He mumbles something into your neck, sounding embarrassed. “What was that?”

He removes his head from your shoulder. With his legs still curled around you, he grasps you by the shoulders, as if to steady your already unmoving frame. He looks deeply into your eyes, and though he looks exhausted, he is absolutely stunning. You fight everything in you to jump him there, forget about a night out with friends, and just ravage the boy in your arms all night instead.

“I love you.”

You swear your heart stops. In fact, you are definitely dead. You died, flew into some deluded version of Catholic Heaven where you get everything you want, no consequence. Eddie tries to read your expression, and you hope to god he can because you sure don’t know what the fuck to feel. “You don’t have to say it back, in fact, don’t. Not yet. But I mean it.”

“I-“ Eddie cuts you off with a kiss, and you let him. You close the tiny gap between his chest and yours, and kiss him to convey all the feelings your words aren’t capable of.

“Now, put on something sexy, we’re going out tonight.” Eddie rolls off of you, snatching his towel from his chair on the way out of the room.

Holy shit.

-

Your POV

“Is anyone here to pick us up?” You ask, linking your arm with Steve’s as you exit into the terminal. The airport is bustling with families on their way to Disneyworld and Martha’s Vineyard for their summer vacations, meanwhile you’re about to spend a week in one of the most traumatizing towns of your young adulthood.

“Yeah, Nance and Jonathan are- and speak of the devil!”

Nancy and Jonathan approach from the other side of your gate, and you take off running. Nance catches you in her embrace, squeezing you tightly as you fall into her arms. “Hi, baby!” You squeal, keeping your old friend close.

“Hi, honey! It’s so nice to see you!” When she lets you go, you move to hug Jonathan as Robin and Steve say their hellos. Eddie and the guys are further back, sending waves to them. Nancy doesn’t accept that, though, and throws herself into Eddie. “Hey, Ed.” She mumbles into his shoulder.

-

Eddie’s POV

“Hey, Nance. Long time.”

“Too long!” She separates herself from him and backhands his chest. “Visit more!”

Eddie scoffs. “Hey, you’re in Boston now, don’t give me that shit!”

“Sure, but I come home every summer. I know you’re big and famous, but this is still your home!”

“How is the big guy?” He’s talking about Dustin, eyes betraying a glimpse of who Eddie used to be.

“He’s good. He misses you. We didn’t tell him, or any of them actually, that you were coming.” Nancy’s shy, suddenly.

“Because we weren’t sure if you actually were.” Jonathan explains, and Eddie nods, pressing his lips together. It makes sense, he’s made plenty of empty promises to visit already, only finally pulling himself together because of you.

“But you did! You came! Both of you came, which is even crazier. But it’s great! We’re having a party tonight, Steve’s hosting, we can all drive over together.” Nancy blurts, her mind moving faster than her mouth can.

“A party?” You ask, voice raising an octave higher than it usually sits. You sound nervous.

“Well, what us casual folk consider a party. You guys will probably see it as a pathetic attempt at one.”

“Oh, please!” Steve interjects, “My parties are never pathetic. I was the king!”

Eddie groans dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, man. We know, you peaked in high school.”

“I did not.” Steve crosses his arms, and your laugh draws Eddie’s attention back to you.

“I for one would love a Hawkins style party.” You add finally, a real smile spread across your face. “It’ll be nice to see everyone.”

Nancy nods, taking your carry on from your grasp. “Great! Let’s get you settled.”

“Did you book us a hotel? Eddie asks, surprised. That’s above any level of friendship he’s had with these two specifically.

They both laugh. “A hotel? You’re staying with us!” Oh, fuck.

—

Your POV

“So, my parents happen to be away for the week you’re all here,” Nancy starts, unlocking the door to her childhood home, a building that housed many a party, many a D&D game. “so we have it to ourselves! The couches up here and downstairs, the guest room, and obviously Robin and Y/n will be sleeping with me, to catch me up on the Hollywood Gossip.” Nancy winks at you, and you smile. You’ve missed her, missed Hawkins, despite everything.

“When are the kids getting here?” You ask. You mean Max, specifically. You owe her some money. Eddie and the guys make their way downstairs before Nancy answers,

“They’re at Dustin’s, they’ll be over later today. Something about needing to catch up on the news?”

You bring your palm to your face. “Shit. I was gonna tell you over drinks, lots and lots of drinks, but uh, there’s a rumor flying around that Eddie and I are, y’know,” You trail off, fidgeting like an embarrassed child.

Nancy brings her manicured hand to her open mouth, quick to hide her pity. (It doesn’t work.) “Oh, god. Are you? Sorry, that was rude. How are you handling it?”

You laugh, unfazed by her curiosity. “I don’t really know what we are right now,”

“So you’re something?” She smirks.

You roll your eyes. “We’ll always be something.”

She shrugs, a truce. “What are you gonna tell them? Tell Dustin? You know how he gets.”

You shake your head. “That’s Eddie’s problem.”

Nancy chirps a laugh, placing your suitcase at the end of her bed, and Robin’s backpack beside it. “Fair enough. But didn’t Max bet you the break up wouldn’t last?”

You snort, “Yeah, I owe the kid fifty bucks.”

“If I’d known we were putting money on it, I’d be freaking rich!” Robin teases, and you try to smother your grin. She’s right, she’d been betting on you and Eddie reconciling for the past two years.

“Sorry, Bob. Ya snooze, ya lose!”

“Speaking of snoozing, I need a nap before this party. Pretty sure I broke my neck on the plane.”

-

Nancy rouses you and Robin from your slumbers gently, shaking your shoulders while whispering that “It’s time to get up, rockstars!” The time on her old alarm clock blinks 4:15PM, both you and Robin had slept the day away. You take your time getting up, stretching your limbs slowly as your eyes adjust to the sunlight, streaming through the blinds. Your stomach growls loudly, and Nancy chuckles. “Pizza’s on the way! We’ll eat before we go to Steve’s. For now, though, go get dressed. Remember your bathing suits!” She’s in Mom mode, taking care of you and Robin while running around like a crazy person.

You dig through your suitcase, coming up empty handed. “I don’t have a bathing suit.”

Robin rolls her eyes. “Yes you do!” She takes your suitcase from you, pulling out the skimpy bikini from beneath your piles of clothing. It’s black with cherries on it, and teeny tiny. You bite your lip in embarrassment. It’s a cute bikini, but it’s super inappropriate to be wearing around the kids.

Robin seems to read your mind, though. “They’re all adults now, y/n. You don’t need to walk around in a mumu. Plus,” she wiggles her eyebrows teasingly, “we both know who’ll love this number.”

You groan, snatching the fabric from her grip. “Fine! But you have to wear your yellow one. I’m not gonna be the only one walking around almost-naked.”

She giggles, agreeing. “Doesn’t bother me!” She finds her suit in her backpack and leaves the room to let you change.

-

Eddie’s POV

“So, why are we staying here if we’re having the party at your place?” Eddie asks before biting into his pizza.

“Because Nancy insisted on staying here, but she can’t host a party to save her life. Plus, I have a pool.”

“Your parents have a pool. You live in a tiny apartment in Seattle with two other people.”

Steve shoves Eddie’s shoulder. “Man, shut up. At least I have friends to live with.” Eddie’s face falls, and Steve notices immediately. “I’m sorry. That was too far.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright, you’re not exactly wrong.” He’s glad he’s not home right now, it gets lonely there. The thought of seeing all of his friends again, though, is still overwhelming him. He has no idea what he’ll say to Dustin, or worse, what Dustin will say to him.

Before Eddie can panic further, though, you and Robin enter the kitchen. You’re in shorts and a tight black t-shirt, the strings of your bikini visible underneath. Your short hair is clipped to keep it out of your face, the vibrant color having faded since the beginning of the tour. You send a small smile his way, melting Eddie’s insecurities, even temporarily. He can’t seem to peel his eyes from you as you walk over to the counter, helping yourself to a slice of pizza. He has to fight the urge to walk over to you, wrap his arms around your waist, rest his head on your shoulder. It practically pains him, when you’re out of his reach.

“Eds?” You snap him out of his trance, waving a hand in front of him.

“What?” He shakes his head, as if to rid the image from his brain. “Sorry.”

You grin shyly, and Eddie could melt at the sight. “I asked if you’re ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m all set.”

Your smile widens, and you hold your hand out for him. He takes it, expecting you to drag him out to the car, but you pull him hooking, hooking your arm around his. “Okay, then. Shall we?”

He can feel the eyes of the room on the pair of you, his cheeks warming. You don’t seem to notice, only looking up at him, your eyes shiny and warm.

-

Mere hours later, Steve’s parents’ house is full and loud, music bumping through the surround sound speakers. Eddie’s in the kitchen nursing a beer when Dustin enters. He’s grown taller and more muscular since the last time Eddie’s seen him, and the beginnings of a beard pepper his face, making him look more like a man than the last time he’d seem the boy. Susie’s on his arm, smiling kindly when she meets Eddie’s eyes. “You wanna drink, Dusty?” She asks sweetly, and Dustin nods. She exits the kitchen, leaving the boys alone.

“What’s up, Dusty?” Eddie tries to joke, extending his hand for Dustin to shake. He swats it away, instead pulling Eddie into a much needed hug.

“Hey, Eddie.” His greeting is muffled by Eddie’s shoulder, and Eddie returns the hug without shame, wrapping his arms around Dustin’s shoulders. The two stay like that, long lost brothers seeing each other for the first time in years.

“Missed you, man.” Eddie finally says when Dustin breaks the hug, holding Eddie at arm’s length. “You're lookin’ great.”

“I’ve been hittin’ the gym a little, check this out,” Dustin flexes a bicep, the beginnings of muscle protruding from his arm. Eddie chuckles, nodding an approval.

When the small talk dies, neither speaks at first, unsure of where to take the conversation besides the elephant in the room. “How’s tour treating you?” Dustin finally asks, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Susie returns with two sodas, handing one to Dustin and sipping the other.

Eddie shrugs, taking another sip of his beer. “It’s been alright, pretty standard stuff.”

Dustin chuckles, and the sound is deeper than Eddie’s used to. “Standard, huh? Touring with the ex love of your life?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Right to the point, huh?”

“Obviously, man! I haven’t seen you in years, and the one time you come back, it’s with all this new information I’m not aware of! You know I hate being out of the loop!”

“I know, and I owe you a lot of information. Trust me, I wanna tell you everything,” Before Eddie can continue, you’re stumbling into the kitchen, giggling drunkenly with Robin as you wobble to the coolers in the corner.

“Hi, boys! Oh my god, it can’t be. Is that Dustin freaking Henderson?!” You gasp dramatically, pulling a big smile from Dustin as he approaches you. You swing your arms around his neck, having to get on tiptoes now to reach him. He wraps his arms around you, and you sway as you hug him tightly.

“Hey, Y/n.” He greets warmly, then releases you to hug Robin with the same welcoming arms. “Hi, Bob.”

“Hey, buddy.” Robin hums, rubbing Dustin’s back as she hugs him closely.

“Sorry to interrupt, I know you guys have a lot of catching up to do. But we’re about to play chicken, and I need a partner.” You look from Dustin to where Eddie is, leaning against the counter, opening his fourth beer of the night.

“What, me?”

You roll your eyes. “Obviously, silly. C’mon! It’ll be fun.” You’re wasted, eyes glazed over and posture loose. It’s impossible to say no to you.

“I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay!” You sing, hooking your arm through Robins again. The two of you exit the kitchen, into the back yard. Eddie can’t look away as you peel your shirt over your head, revealing a tiny black bikini top.

“You haven’t changed a bit, Munson.” Dustin taunts as Eddie pulls his stare from your silhouette.

“What are you talking about?”

“Seriously? You can’t tell me that is how friends look at each other,” He mimicks Eddie, staring open mouthed at the wall, eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s pathetic!”

“This is why I haven’t come back here, Henderson.” Eddie teases, backhanding the kid’s stomach. “Can’t deal with your know-it-all bullshit.”

Dustin snorts a laugh. “Hey, man, I'm just callin’ it like I see it.”

-

Your POV

You dip your toes into the cool water while you wait, letting the feeling contrast with the alcohol induced warmth of your body. You feel a presence sit next to you, another pair of feet meeting yours under the water.

“Hey, kiddo.” You greet her, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“What’s up, big shot?” Max leans her head on yours, her way of hugging you without committing to it. She looks the same, despite being a little taller, and maybe her hair’s gotten a little longer.

“Oh, y’know. Same old.”

She snorts. “Word on the street is you owe me some money.”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get that to you this week. Nice to see you, too.”

“Hey! It is nice to see you! I haven’t in a while, I’m sorry.” Max wraps her arms around your shoulders. “I missed you, y’know.”

“I missed you too, Maxie. How are things?”

“They’re alright. I don’t live here anymore, that’s a big plus.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nods. “Moved out after college, got a place in the city with Lucas. I’ll show you some time this week maybe?”

You nod. “For sure.”

“But enough about my endeavors, how are you? Y’know, with all this shit going on?”

You shake your head. “I dunno, dude. Weird, I guess. Everything’s weird.”

“I take it you and Eddie aren’t officially back together, then?”

“Not exactly. But not, not together. Does that make sense?”

“Not at all. Good to see you two haven’t changed too much.”

You giggle, nudging her shoulder with yours. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, c’mon! You two used to dance around the idea of dating before you started. You think we didn’t notice? I was fifteen, not stupid! It took you so much time to admit you liked each other, then even more time to figure out you needed to break up. Now here we are again, watching Eddie and Y/n tiptoe around their feelings for each other.”

You sigh, the alcohol not letting you fully grasp what she’s saying. “I hate when you’re right.”

She grins smugly. “I know, and I’m sorry. It happens a lot.”

Before you can respond, Eddie throws the screen door open. “Who’s ready to play some chicken?” He’s very drunk, but not in the sad and angry way you’re used to seeing him lately.

Max gives you another grin, and you roll your eyes before getting to your feet. “You’re in for it now, team Scoops.” You point across the pool, where Robin and Steve stand in their bathing suits discussing strategy. Eddie shoves his pants to the ground, revealing a too small pair of swim trunks you're sure have belonged to him since freshman year. He tugs his shirt over his head, discarding it with his pants in the grass. You do your best not to stare at the tattoos scattered on his torso, littering his arms. You refuse to look further than his chest, not risking even a glance at his waist, his hips. Instead of gawking like you want to, you pay close attention to undoing the button of your cutoff shorts, shimmying out of them and tossing them onto the chair beside you.You’re completely exposed, standing only in the tiniest bikini you own because it was the only one you could find before leaving.

As much as you don’t want to draw his attention, the feeling of Eddie’s eyes on your body surges your confidence. Without looking back, you get into the pool, taking each step slowly to adjust to the temperature. It’s fairly warm, and you say a quick thank you prayer. You definitely cannot be walking around with pointy nips right now. Eddie wades in behind you, splashing you in his wake, steps clumsy. Once he’s settled, he turns to face you, squatting so the water reaches his chest.

“You ready, sweetheart?” You try not to seem fazed by his slip. He stopped calling you that after you broke up, and the only times he has since then, he’s apologized for it. Now, though, with his guard down and his judgment obscured, he smirks at you like he knows what he’s just done. You pretend you don’t get it.

“Sure thing, Munson.” No pretty boy, not even this drunk. He’s not yours, not now.

If he notices, he doesn’t let it show, keeping the same expression as he motions you forward. You’ve done this hundreds of times, over the course of the few summers you had in Hawkins. You and Eddie used to drive over on Fridays and stay the weekend with Rob, Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan, babysitting the kids and enjoying your time as immature adults while you still could. It feels the same, even after all those years have passed, you’re still in the same small town, with the same group of friends, playing the same stupid games. You climb onto his shoulders, and try not to react when his hands grasp tightly on each thigh, locked on either side of his head.

“Alright, listen up!” Dustin has gathered the rest of your friends beside the pool, while scattered guests you barely remember from your semester in high school crowd around to spectate. “This is Drown The Chicken. The first person to fall off of their partner loses. There will be three rounds, each one five minutes. A shot of liquor will be taken by the loser after each round. If both opponents fail to knock the other off of their partner, a tiebreaker will take place. Today, the tie breaker will be…” He pauses for dramatic effect, and Mike takes the opportunity to slap his legs in a drumroll. “A shotgun race!” The whole backyard cheers, and you groan. The worst thing about these kids being in college, is that they’re too young to realize drinking is not the only thing adults do. It is one of the most fun, though.

“Both members of each team will shotgun a malt beverage of their choosing. First one to finish wins the tiebreaker for their team, and therefore the round! At the end, the losers will have to drink a shot of the winners’ choosing!” The four of you nod in understanding. Regardless, you know you’ll have to drink at some point. “On your mark, get set, GO!” Will clicks his timer, and the party guests start cheering, egging you on. You hear shouts of, “I’ve got ten on Munson and L/n!” and “Kick his ass!” and Robin reaches for you suddenly, catching you off guard. The music is cranked through the speakers, giving the match a soundtrack of Pixies’ Here Comes Your Man. Steve wades toward you, Robin clutching a handful of his precious hair to keep her balance. You take advantage of his winces of “Ouch, Rob, not the hair!” and shove, sending Robin almost entirely backwards. Steve catches her at the last second, wobbling as he tries to keep her out of the water.

“Lucky shot!” Robin shouts, stretching her arms out toward you. You lean back, and Eddie catches you, gripping your thighs tightly on his shoulders. He moves with you, saving your equilibrium, and you stretch towards Robin. The two of you tangle your arms, while the boys below you swat at each other, hurling meaningless insults and taunts. Finally, you gain the advantage, shoving Robin’s shoulder with enough force to send her backwards, slipping quickly from Steve’s grasp. She splashes into the water, submerged up to her neck. “Shit.”

“That’s one for team Hellfire!” Dustin claps his hands loudly as he hands your opponents each a shot, and you giggle as Robin struggles to climb back onto Steve’s back, their skin now slippery with pool water.

“Nice moves.” Eddie cranes his neck, and you meet his eyes. His face is soft with intoxication, his guard lowered. Yours is higher than ever, though, and you look away before he can reel you in any further.

“Round two!” You repeat the motions, this time while Smells Like Teen Spirit blares from the radio, and your former classmates yelling and cheering for their preferred team. Robin catches you by surprise, kicking one of your knees enough to throw you off balance, then shoving you to the side. You topple off of Eddie’s shoulders, into the cool water. You stay there for a second, keeping your eyes closed to avoid looking at Eddie’s surely disappointed expression.

But when you dare to peek through one eye, the other still tightly shut, he’s smiling at you. Not his usual toothy grin, the one he gives to his friends. His smile is soft, lips pressed together as if to stop them from quivering with a rogue giggle.

He’s drunk, you remind yourself. You have to remember he’s drunk.

“What now, Munson?!” Steve sends a splash at Eddie, and he scoffs in mock disgust.

“Boys, please, you’ll have plenty of time to play mermaids after Eddie and I kick your ass.” Eddie giggles as you climb his back, repositioning yourself on top of him. It’s more difficult, now that both of you are soaked from the neck down. Dustin hands you both a shot, Eddie’s whiskey and yours vodka, and you both down them easily.

“Final round, people! This round wins it all! See Max to confirm your bets. Are the teams ready?” The four of you give variations of a confirmation, and Dustin shouts, once again, “On your mark… get set… GO!” You square your body to hold better balance, as Eddie and Steve approach each other slowly. Eddie’s hands grip your thighs tightly, and you hope he can’t feel the heat growing between your legs. Not now.

You continue to dodge and dance around each other, narrowly missing one another as you swing your limbs, stretching and reaching for Robin as Eddie tries to sneak around Steve’s guard. After five long minutes, Dustin startles you with the newly found volume in his voice. “TIME’S UP! WE HAVE A TIE!” You can hear the conflicting emotions of the crowd, probably correlating to their own predictions. “Y’all know what that means!” The four of you sulk as you leave the water, defeated by the dreaded tie breaker.

Lucas passes you each a can and a miscellaneous tool to puncture it with. You’ve barely grown to like beer, even after months of being surrounded by it, but it’s the only thing available that you’re physically able to shotgun. You’ve chosen a Red Stripe, in honor of your teammate.

“The rules of the tiebreaker are as follows: You will puncture your can when I say go, and you will chug for thirty seconds before opening the top. The first person to finish their beverage wins the tiebreaker for their team. Got it?” Eddie groans a confirmation, while you and Robin nod and Steve taps each side of his face lightly to psych himself out. Dustin counts you off again, and you each stab your cans, quickly rushing the liquid into your mouth. Will counts from 30 out loud as he watches the timer, and the crowd is eerily quiet, focused on the race in front of them.

“30! Crack ‘em open!” You do as you’re told, quickly snapping the tab of the can to relieve the pressure. You can tell you’re slowing down, grossed out by the bread flavored piss water sliding down your throat. Luckily, though, Eddie is devouring his own, his head tilted to make sure he’s getting all of it. The feeling between your legs has returned, and you quickly shoot your gaze to Robin, who’s also struggling to finish her beer. In reality, this is a race between Steve and Eddie, winner takes all. All in this case is bragging rights, and probably a horrible hangover.

Eddie is the first to finish, lifting the can above his head in celebration. Thank god, too, because you definitely shouldn’t consume another shot.

“We have a winner!” Dustin runs between you and Eddie, hoisting each of your wrists to the air as the backyard guests cheer and boo and yell. You chance another look in Eddie’s direction, admiring his whoops of victory as he high fives his bandmates.

_

Eddie’s POV

It’s 3AM as the party starts to die, and people he’d never spoken to in high school approach him to say their goodbyes. Eddie is pulled into hugs, handshakes, and conversations with his former bullies, and girls that never looked at him twice. Though his eighteen year old self would be relishing in this sudden change, he’s tired. He knows it’s not real, that none of these people even care about his art. They care that he’s famous, and that they know someone famous. But the only person in this room that knows him is behind him, falling asleep on the basement sofa.

“Hey, Y/n?” Eddie is finally able to approach you, after breaking away from another pointless conversation. “You wanna get going?”

Your eyes slide to his face, glassy and warm with inebriation. “Aw, you’re leaving?” You pout, staring up at him, and he could melt. You’d been talking about going home not five minutes ago, but it’s clear your brain has stalled.

“Only if you wanna. We can stay as long as you want.”

“I can come with you?”

He can't help but laugh, you’re so cute like this, so soft. “Of course you can.”

“I thought you were sick of me.” Your face slips slightly, lips twitching into a frown.

“What?” Eddie shifts so his whole body faces you. “I could never be sick of you.”

You shrug, clearly not understanding the gravity of his words. “I dunno, we’ve been in close quarters since tour started, I don’t mind giving you space if you need it.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to feel his own drunken insecurity surface. “Are you sick of me?” It’s barely a whisper, but you hear him.

Your eyes widen quickly, shocked at his words. “No! Eddie, of course not.”

“Okay, good.” He flashes you what he knows is an unconvincing smile. “You wanna go home?”

You shake your head. “Can we go for a walk?”

-

Predictably, you end up back at Hawkins High, the parking lot pitch black in the buzz of a summer night. Even looking at it, Eddie feels the chill of his memories washing over him. This is where he was stuck for six years, where Steve had shoved him into a locker their freshman year, where Jason Carver had made his final senior year miserable. It is the building that harbors Eddie’s darkest thoughts, where the seed of his shame had sprouted from. Where he had to deal with Chrissy’s death, and being framed for it.

But it was also where he met you. Where he’d introduced you to some of his closest friends, where he sat with you at lunch every day, dancing around each other until after midterms. As much as Eddie still hates to admit it, and as horrendously tacky as it sounds, high school is where he’d fallen in love.

Eddie lets his eyes wander in the darkness, knowing you won’t catch him in your hazy state. Your arms hang limply by your sides as you stare up at the school building, seeming to admire it. He wonders how being here must make you feel, as someone that left as soon as they could. It hadn’t been easy for you either, restarting your entire social life in your senior year.

“Do you ever miss it?” Your words catch him off guard, your voice almost inaudible even in the quiet.

“Hell no,” He scoffs, and feels you shift beside him. “I spent way too much extra time here to even think of missing it.”

“Okay, maybe not the actual, physical place. But, don't you miss how easy it was?”

“You’re joking, right? We fought an underground of Hell Monsters, Y/n, that wasn’t what I’d call easy.”

You groan, and he chuckles at your drunken frustration. “Christ, okay, I mean how small our world was, before all that hell monster shit. We didn’t have to worry about people outside of Hawkins, outside of the little bubble of our friends.”

“And you miss that?” He’s genuinely curious. You had always been looking to move, spread out beyond the small town your parents dragged you to. He never expected you to miss it.

You shrug. “Sometimes, yeah. Despite everything that happened, I was happy here. I had a home.”

Eddie’s vision blurs with the implication of your words. Of course, you’d had a physical home, but you'd also had him. And Steve, Robin, Nance, the kids. You’d never had a solid friend group in Boston.

“I miss parts of it,” He finally confesses, turning his head to fully look at you again. “Some more than others.”

You look for him, finding his eyes easily in the dark, and he adjusts quickly to see you better.

“You think things will ever be that easy again?” There’s a hint of optimism in your voice, and it begs him to join it, just for a second.

“I really, really hope so.”

-

Your POV

Somehow, you and Eddie find your way back to Steve’s, tiptoeing clumsily through the front door to a mass of passed out Hawkins alum. Steve is sprawled on the couch, while Dustin and Mike are on the floor beside him. In the basement, Will and El are cleaning the empty bottles and red solo cups from the absolutely destroyed basement, bobbing and weaving around members of Corroded Coffin and DDA, and they inform you Lucas and Max have gone back to Nancy’s already. Upstairs, the rest of your friends are in respective bedrooms, sleeping to prepare for their unavoidable hangovers.

“There’s one room left.” Eddie leads the way to Steve’s parents’ bedroom, the only one left untouched by party guests.

You peel the heavy comforter back, shimmying off your shorts, so tired and so absolutely plastered at this point, you don’t realize he’s watching as you untie your bikini top, letting it fall to the floor.

“Whoa! Um,” Eddie spins himself to face the window, losing his balance as he does. Even though he can’t see you, he still smacks his hands over his eyes. “I, uh, I’m gonna go find a spot on the floor.” He begins to sidestep towards the door, still refusing to look at you without a top on.

“Eddie,” You know the alcohol is making you flirty, and you’ll probably regret this tomorrow, but fuck it. You’re on vacation. You tug on Eddie’s shoulder, turning him to face you. He keeps his eyes glued to your face, barely blinking, definitely not letting them wander. “Stay here.”

He clears his throat, wincing. “Y/n,” Your pout cuts him off. “What’s that face for?”

“It’s weird, hearing my name out of your mouth. It was always sweetheart. Or baby, or pretty, or love. Now I’m just Y/n.” Your words slur together, exhaustion taking hold. You let your fingers dance up his bare arm, his shirt still somewhere in Steve’s yard. Still not daring to move his eyes from your face, he has an answer almost immediately.

“You’re not just Y/n, you’re Y/n! The Y/n, actually, a songwriting, vocalizing, rockstar badass. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

“Well then, the Y/n wants the Eddie Munson in bed with them.” It’s a bold choice of words, but you don’t care. You need him right now, even through the thick fog of the liquor.

“I want to, you have no idea how badly i want to, Y/n, I promise you that,”

“Then why won’t you?”

“Because I shouldn’t. I can’t.” He’s blunt. There is no arguing, he’s made up his mind.

And still, you prod him with inquiries. “Is it because we’re drunk? Because I trust you. I know you wouldn’t hurt me, Ed.”

He sighs, his hand finally moving to caress your burning cheek. “It’s because we’re drunk, but not because I'm scared of hurting you. I can’t let our first time together in two years be something you’ll regret tomorrow, but I also can’t chance either of us forgetting it.” He says it quietly, like he’s had the volume on himself turned down. You’ve heard him anyway, but it takes you a second to digest what he’s said.

“Okay,” You accept his answer, and before he can turn to leave you add, “Can you just sleep next to me?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, searching your expression. He must find an answer, because he nods. “Okay, sweetheart. But I gotta have you put a shirt on. For my own sake.”

You giggle, the satisfaction of hearing your nickname making you malleable to his words, nodding in agreement. Eddie exits the bedroom, and returns a bit later with a piece of fabric in his hand. His shirt. Of course it’s his shirt, what was he gonna do, give you Steve’s to sleep in?

You’re surrounded by his smell, his warmth, instantaneously. You crawl into the king sized bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. You hear Eddie’s pants drop to the floor, before he climbs into bed, hoisting the covers to slide underneath them. You scoot back, and he knows now to wrap his arm around your waist, without the weird hesitation and awkward shuffling before you give up for the sake of comfort. Eddie rests his face behind your neck, the warm exhale of breath tickling your skin.

“Goodnight, baby.” He mumbles into the fabric of your-slash-his shirt, and your body vibrates with glee.

“Goodnight, baby.”

-