#present tense... present day present time ...

-- Empty beer cans, half-full beer cans and spicy tamarind vodka mixes sat on the living room table alongside almost-empty bags of chips, cookies and sweets. The playlist was summoning music no one had selected, drawing from algorithms that were doing a shit job but no one was alert enough to notice. Luck rambled at Juno about his classmate’s cat and she struggled to keep her eyes open.

“My love” said Hunter tenderly, approaching Juno, “let me get you to bed.”

Juno mumbled an incoherent reply and Hunter carried her towards their shared bedroom. Initially, Juno and Luck lived in the apartment by themselves, with some economic help from by their parents while they studied university. It was small but they both had their own bedrooms, and it was more than enough. And after Hunter moved in, they had enough money to eat more than instant soup near the end of the month.

Alone with the music and the dim orange lights of the living room, Luck started drifting to sleep until Hunter came back out of the bedroom by himself, closing the door behind him.

“She really can’t handle alcohol, can she?” Hunter chuckled.

“How are you holding up, Hunter?” Luck asked, words heavily slurred.

“Correction: you’re both lightweights.”

Luck placed one of his hands on his knee, the one that wasn’t holding an empty glass that used to hold a vodka-based sweet drink. He used it to propel himself up but the room suddenly swirled and he suddenly he felt the cold tile of the floor on his shoulder.

“I don’t think I can drink another one” he slurred.

“You don’t say” replied Hunter. He approached Luck and helped him get up, almost carrying him like he had his sister. “I’ll take you to bed as well.”

Luck noticed he still held the empty glass on his hand and made a note to leave it on his nightstand once he was close enough. Hunter closed the door behind them and when they were near the bed, Luck tried to untangle himself from him but his limbs were too chaotic and both of them fell on the mattress together, laughing.

Luck stretched to reach the nightstand but his view was upside down and he felt as if he was playing a videogame that had switched all the buttons, both the up-down and left-right ones. Somehow, after what felt like an eternity, he got the glass standing surely on the safe wooden surface. He felt Hunter’s hand slither under his t-shirt on his sides.

“Hunter?” he asked, confused.

“I’ll get you into your pijamas, dummy.”

“I’ll just sleep like this. Too much work.”

“Shush.”

Hunter’s hands moved over his skin, finding his nipples.

“Hunter?” Luck’s voice was concerned. “What are you doing?”

He tried to get a hold of Hunter’s wrists but when his hands got to where they were, they were gone and he was holding only air. He flailed until he found an arm and grabbed it with both of his hands. It still moved freely so he tried to hug it, to resist to its movement. He was successfull for all of five seconds until Hunter released himself and turned Luck so the later was laying down belly-down.

“No more” Luck started gasping and whining. “Please!”

Hunter covered Luck’s mouth with one of his hands, pressing it with force.

“If you scream” Hunter warned. “I will break that fucking glass on your head. So keep your voice down and we won’t have problems.”

While Luck was stunned into silence, Hunter pulled down Luck’s trousers and then his own. He lined up Luck’s back with his chest. He groped him as he grinded his semi-hard cock against Luck’s bare ass. Luck’s drunken thoughts raced and crashed into each other as Hunter’s fingers entered his mouth and dug around until they came out coated in saliva. Then they started opening Luck’s tight asshole.

“Juno has never let me fuck her ass” Hunter whispered, spreading Luck with his fingers. “But I can’t resist yours when it’s right here in front of my cock.

Deciding it was enough, Hunter probed Luck’s asshole with his cock. He pushed slowly, lodging himself inside. Luck started whimpering loudly, so his sister’s boyfriend pressed his hand onto his mouth. Luck’s hole wasn’t lubed enough and it was too tight, but Hunter stubbornly pushed forward until it gave. Even with his hand acting as a silencer, Luck’s pain was obvious in the noises he made, getting louder by the second, so Hunter opted to put the younger guy in a chokehold.

“Maybe it’s time for you to go to sleep as well, stupid.”

Luck’s vision darkened. His whole body tensed even more every time he tried to gasp but couldn’t. Eventually, even the searing pain of getting his ass stretched open by Hunter’s cock wasn’t enough to keep him conscious.

“Tish tosh,” she says, planting her feet properly on the training mat and eyeing him with an increased wariness. She knows Lotor likes to strike unexpectedly. “I also happen to like the way training robots crumple to bits beneath a staff. It relieves the stress I feel after a large conference with intergalactic leaders.”

A tick of silence stretches between them.

And then in a blur, Lotor races toward her, slashing down.

She blocks with the staff and swings, and he ducks smoothly before stepping back, flipping the sword in his hand.

He paces the mat, the overhead lights capturing the glow of his eyes like a predator in the dark wilderness. “Poor Princess Allura,” he teases. “All the power in the universe, and yet you fear the peace we have wrought together, instead longing for means of violence. Are you certain you are not of Galran blood somewhere in that long ancestry of yours?”

Alura’s voice strains as she circles him as well, resetting her staff. “I can’t think of a single species that doesn’t enjoy a rough tumble now and again, in a safe, non-war environment. Why, the humans even have something called, um—” Her concentration breaks as she pauses, snapping her fingers. “Um, wrestling. And something called rugby. And then they have a very large, worldwide competition for their various violent sports, called the Olympics.”

Lotor pauses.

His slit pupils widen in curiosity of other cultures. “Olympics? Is that similar to a Kral Zera?”

“Somewhat,” she nods, “but instead of choosing a world leader by, um, killing everyone, these tournaments are for medals that they wear around their necks and then bite in front of cameras. And no one dies generally.”

He lunges again, and in a blur, wrenches the staff away from her hands and presses her up against a wall.

Allura squeaks, eyes wide.

His nose is inches from her own, his breath a hot puff against her face. “How very curious.”  

Her breath stalls as her cheeks heat hard enough to radiate to him. “Um, y-yes.”

Lotor’s wide mouth splits as he whispers against her mouth, “Fortunately for you, princess, I’ve no intent to fight you truly, or you would already be dead with your silly staff. And if it were these Olympics, you would have no medal to bite.”

Face flushed, her eyes narrow to slits, and before Lotor can avoid it, she hooks her ankle against his and unbalances him. Surprised claws protract from his hands, gripping into her practice armor and his eyes widen.

And the two royals fall in a pile of limbs upon the mat, with Allura sprawled on top of a stunned Lotor, his sword clattering to the mat beside them.  

“Oh, no,” she says with a triumphant giggle, hands planted over his chest plate. Her curly flyaways are an angelic halo around her face. “You lowered your weapon but did not fully secure me, so I still win.”

Lotor grumps beneath her, his lavender cheeks flushing as he grips her forearms.

And despite Galra leadership watching the courts and murmuring with gossip in the far distance, Lotor softens. His rough, calloused thumbs stroke a pink marking along her bare forearm. “Best two out of three, then? I promise to secure you fully next time and cause another scandal for it.”

———

Valentine's Day. A day of love, of cheesy cards, and the worst day of the year for Steve Harrington.

Every year in the past he told himself it'd be different, he'd have the perfect Valentine's Day; but of course that never happened. The last good one he can remember was so long ago, he was about nine or so, and a boy (girl? Person? It was so long ago and Steve's memory was so bad nowadays that he wasn't sure) had rushed up to him and shoved a heart shaped card into his chest before running away. The card was clearly homemade, obnoxious hearts everywhere, covered in glue. It was made with love though, love that not many people had ever shown him since. Now it sat tucked in the back of Steve's closet, along with his sexuality.

This year, he was giving up. He was going to treat it like any other day, to the best of his abilities. Which was difficult, considering everyone else around him seemed to have a valentine. Robin was busy with Nancy, so hanging out with either of them was out. The kids all had their various valentines– Steve tends not to get into their love lives, the complex web that it is. Argyle and Jonathan were getting high together, which Steve reckoned was their version of a date. There was Eddie, but with a face like his and a wit like that, he was most likely snuggling up to someone too. It was strange, Steve hated picturing Eddie with someone more than he did picturing the others. The idea of Eddie wrapping an arm around a girl's shoulder, offering them his jacket, glancing at their lips, sent a dark, hostile feeling creeping through Steve's chest. He tried to ignore the thought.

So, Steve just decided that once his shift was over, he'd go home and get as wasted as possible. His plans were thwarted however, when the very metalhead he was just thinking of came trotting into Family Video, his chains and rings clinking as he walked, announcing his arrival.

"Ah, Munson, here to grab a rom-com for your valentine?" Steve commented dully. It came out a little saltier than he'd intended.

Eddie pulled a face. "Someone's grumpy. Valentine's Day not your thing, King Stevie? I thought it would be considering you're an absolutely brilliant charmer." He waved his hands around dramatically, Steve just rolled his eyes.

"It's not my fault Valentine's is always the worst day of the year for me." He grumbled back. "Now, the rom-coms are in the section with all the dumb hearts and confetti and…" Steve waved his hands around vaguely. "Shit."

"Actually, my dear Stevie, I'm also without a valentine. So, I was wondering if you'd like to–"

Steve cut him off, that sour creeping feeling vanishing. "Get wasted out of our minds? Hell yes. My place or yours?"

Eddie looked a bit taken aback, almost like he was going to say something rather different. "Mine?"

"Sounds great." Steve smiled, his eyes brighter now. "I'll see you after my shift."

"Need me to pick you up, big boy?" Eddie smirked. Steve rolled his eyes again, but he couldn't help but feel a certain type of hotness under his collar due to the nickname.

"I'll be fine, thanks. See you in a bit." Steve grinned.

The metalhead gave him finger guns and imitated a southern accent. "Whatever you say, pardner." And he trotted out the store as if on a horse, leaving Steve giggling and smiling.

———

The rest of the day went better, thankfully. Sure there were lovey dovey couples coming in to get their movies that they'd inevitably neglect just so they could make goo goo eyes at each other, but Steve had Eddie and booze to look forward to, and that thought kept him light and airy all throughout the day. He watched as the clock ticked to 5 and he rushed out the door, flipping the open sign to closed, before jumping into his beamer and racing off to the trailer, unable to stop smiling.

At that point he wasn't sure why he was so happy, really. It was just two guys hanging out and getting drunk on Valentine's Day. That was normal.

"Normal friend stuff." He mumbled to himself as he parked. He felt a sudden pang in his stomach of… surely not– butterflies. No, not butterflies, you can't get butterflies for someone you're just friends with. He was just nervous. But why would he be nervous? He sighed and shook his head. He was being an idiot; so much of an idiot in fact that he hadn't noticed Eddie tapping on the window.

"You gonna sit out here all evening, Stevie boy?" He said with a lopsided grin. Steve rolled his eyes and got out. He did that alot with Eddie; not in a dismissive way, of course. He just felt he had to, or else he'd let something else out, something he wouldn't be able to explain away.

And he definitely came close to a reaction like that when Eddie presented a heart shaped box. "For you." His tone was more subdued, his smile suddenly less confident. Steve took them with some hesitation, wondering if it was some sort of joke.

"They're chocolates." Eddie broke the silence that Steve didn't even realise had begun. "There's a dumb card inside too, here." He took the box back, their hands brushing for a moment Steve wished lasted forever. Carefully, he opened it, and in it sat a heart shaped card, almost exactly like the one Steve had received so many years ago. It had the same type of obnoxious hearts glued on, but placed with more articulation this time. He took the card, holding it as if it were a valuable antique. Without even needing to open it to see the chicken-scratch handwriting of "To Steve", he could feel the love put in it. He hoped Eddie might've signed his name this time, so he'd remember who brightened up his Valentine's.

Eddie was looking at him intensely, studying his expression, trying to read his emotions. "It's stupid, I'm sorry." He mumbled, taking Steve's silence as a bad sign.

"Thank you." Steve practically whispered, his eyes meeting Eddie's. They stayed like that, for a moment, their brown eyes locked together for what seemed like an eternity. Steve wasn't sure if Eddie could tell how much the gift meant, but in his heart he hoped he could. In Eddie's eyes though, he could see so much hurt, so much hope. The gift meant a lot to him too, it was to test the waters, to see if perhaps, Steve might like him in a way different to friendship.

Steve felt like Eddie could see so much of him at that moment, those big brown eyes pierced his soul like a pin in a balloon. It was like he could see everything about him, and Steve felt bare and open. It unsettled him somewhat, while also giving him a feeling of belonging. Eddie understood, he got what Steve had been through. He just wasn't ready to share that part of himself with Eddie yet, and so, Steve broke the moment, looking away at the floor.

"We should head inside, it's freezing." He mumbled, slowly walking into the trailer, clutching the card to his chest. Eddie lagged behind briefly before catching him up, and then, he put his jacket around Steve's shoulders. This was all… new. This affection. He wasn't sure what to make of it, really. It stirred feelings in him, feelings he tried so hard to bury so long ago. He didn't say anything, just kept on walking.

"Wanna watch a movie or something then?" Eddie smiled, his confidence returning. This was becoming more and more like a date as it went on, Steve noted. He tried to ignore it. Just two guys watching a movie on Valentine's Day.

"Totally normal and platonic." Steve mumbled.

Eddie frowned confusedly. "What was that?"

"Nothing, uh, nothing." Steve shook his head. "We can watch a movie if you want, yeah."

Eddie smiled again, and how Steve wished he could make Eddie smile like that more. "Great, what do you want, The Wicker Man, The Dead Zone–"

Steve grimaced. Despite having seen ungodly horrors in his real life, he still couldn't handle horror movies.

Eddie rolled his eyes and smiled. "Fine, what do you suggest then?"

"That Star Wars one? You know, it's called, uh… Back to the Future?"

And so began their night of idiocy, dumbassery and intoxication.

———

A couple hours later, and Steve was so drunk he could barely move. Eddie, who handled his booze better, was very entertained by Steve's drunken antics.

"And so, Eds, I told her, d'you know who pauses Fast Times at fifty–" He paused to hiccup. "Fifty three minutes 'n' five seconds? People who like boobies, y'know? Boobies!" Steve flourished with his hands, waving them about so dramatically that he nearly rolled off the couch.

Eddie giggled; while yes, he could handle his alcohol, he was still drunk. "I don't like boobies."

"What? Dude, c'mon, they're boobies, you can just…" Steve made grabbing motions with his hands. "Squish squish."

Eddie sighed. "No it's not that I don't like boobies altogether, it's just… I only like 'em on men."

There was silence for a moment, as it sunk in for both of them that Eddie had just outed himself.

"Men boobies." Steve giggled.

Eddie nodded and smiled. "Men boobies."

———

More time passed, and soon they were fresh out of alcohol and were sobering up slowly. They were sitting in a comfortable silence, when Eddie asked the question.

"Do you like men?"

Steve didn't respond. The effects of the alcohol and his head starting to throb didn't put him in the best state to answer. He wanted to say yes, because that was the honest answer, but all his life he'd been told that he didn't. Yes he knew the people telling him that were wrong on basically every other account but when you're told something enough times, you start to believe it, no matter who's saying it.

Eddie was looking at him. "Steve?"

"I don't know." Steve sighed and brushed a hand through his hair.

"Well…" Eddie sounded hesitant. "We could find out?"

Steve looked at him, only to see him getting closer, looking at his lips, leaning in and…

———

That's all Steve can remember. The next thing he knew he was at Lovers Lake at quarter to four in the morning, gazing into the water, raindrops pattering down on him, he'd be shivering if it weren't for Eddie's jacket.

He ran away, and now he's sitting all alone, drunk, on Valentine's Day. He had a chance, Eddie was going to kiss him, be his valentine, love him; but he's thrown that away, and for what?

I'm a coward. He thinks to himself. A dumb little coward who can't even kiss a boy.

He wanted to. Wants to. But for some reason, in that moment he'd just ran, ran away from his friend, no, his crush. He's sure it's a crush now. What else could it be?

Then, behind him, he hears the unmistakable sound of a beaten up old van and metal music. Eddie.

He doesn't turn around, he can't face Eddie, not like this, not when he has so much shame to deal with. He could swim away, avoid the confrontation. No that's dumb. He thinks. Then, before he can think of another plan, Eddie's sitting beside him.

"Hey." Eddie whispers. "I am so, so sorry. I thought…" He sighs. "I guess I misread the signals, I thought for some dumb reason you might like me back but I–" Steves stops him talking by placing a hand on his.

"You didn't misread anything, Eds, I just panicked and ran like I always do. Feelings are just… They're confusing. I'm confused. All I know is I really, really like you." He turns to look at Eddie, to gauge his reaction, their eyes lock.

There's silence. All they can hear is the rain slowly getting more intense as they stare into each other's eyes.

Eddie drops his gaze for a second before bringing it back. "I like you too."