Steve knows the kids are obsessed with the newest up and coming metal band, Corroded Coffin, even though their music is actually terrible. But when Robin of all people begs Steve take them to the band's next gig, he relents.
Everything starts to make a lot more sense when they walk up to the stage and there's an honest to god Siren behind the microphone, a guitar slung low on his hips with magic wafting off him in waves over the crowd.
The singer clocks him immediately and quickly schools the flash of surprise in his eyes into something more flirtatious.
Steve smiles, the cat that caught the canary. He was right. Their music really does suck, and he can't wait until tomorrow when he can rub it in his tiny human friends' faces.
Tonight, however, he's going to ruffle a pretty boy's feathers.
~~~
Eddie knows his music's horse shit, tailor made for humans- sue him, they needed the money. So he's always a little surprised when another creature finds their way to his concerts. It happens on occasion, and of course they're always welcomed. He's seen all sorts on their tour.
But something as beautifully unholy as a Nephilim?
The man with the auburn hair and hazel eyes surrounded by a gaggle of children glows with a golden aura so soft and warm Eddie's almost left speechless. Almost.
He's caught staring, but he can't take his eyes away. So Eddie does what Sirens do best. He preens, puffs his sleek black feathers just enough for only the man in the crowd to see and sings. A move typically saved for encores, the crowd goes wild with energy and pushes their way towards the stage.
The Nephi laughs, full-bodied with mirth at the antics. A beacon of golden light bursts from him, control of his halo slipping just the slightest.
It's unearthly, it's sinful, and Eddie falls to his knees in worship. The men and women caught in the halo turn to him, smiling and leaning in and touching what is Eddie's--
But the Angel relaxes, the halo draws back, and the peoples' hands fall away even though their eyes linger.
None of that matters when the Angel blows him a kiss. Eddie knows, deep in the hollows of his bones, that when he finds him after the show, he'll stretch his Angel's wings and show him just how bright his halo can glow.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Steve’s been running a hand through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of the stove for almost ten minutes. She’s told him over and over to be confident, that he’s got nothing to lose and everything to gain. But he’s still nervous. And to be fair, she can’t hold it against him. It took her ages to ask Nancy out.
“I don’t know, Robs,” Steve sighs, “are you absolutely sure?”
“Yes, Dingus, he likes you. Eddie never pulls the tips of my hair or holds my hand or leans on my shoulder. Because people only do that if they’re interested in someone. Right?” Her cheeks twitch under the strain of her reassuring smile.
“Yeah…?” He shines with guarded hope.
Robin can’t help but ask, for what has to be the millionth time, “have you at least told him you’re bisexual?”
Steve’s eyes dim again and it’s all the answer she needs. Honestly, he’s doing a hell of a lot better than she expected. He’s told a few people so far– as practice, Rob, with the easy people– including her and Nancy, Dustin, Max and Lucas. It might have been practice to start, but now he’s just stalling the inevitable. And they both know it.
“Let’s go back out there,” Robin encourages. She throws her arm over his broad shoulders, highlighted by the plain indigo t-shirt that’s on the right side of too small. They’d picked it out together: something dark and tight for Eddie, yet something still classically Steve.
He nods as she hauls him back towards the living room, two cold six packs in their hands. The group’s Saturday movie night tradition at Steve’s had been going well so far. After a few joints, Argyle suggested a drinking game, hence the beers. Eddie, Steve, and Robin were quick to jump on the bandwagon, leaving Nancy and Jonathan as sober cabs for Robin and Argyle, who’d just rented a new apartment in town.
Eddie, very pointedly, hadn’t committed to how his night would end. Robin snorted when his eyes darted to Steve to gauge his reaction as they coordinated cars, even though her poor best friend was completely oblivious to Eddie’s blush.
Steve’d been in the middle of ordering pizza when he’d overheard their planning and almost dropped the phone, bulldozing their conversation to shout, “Teddy, why don’t you just spend the night, since your van is back at your– oh, hi yeah can we get one large–” and Eddie sagged in relief.
Robin loves them, but my god are they actual idiots. Even Nancy couldn’t help but giggle at their antics, Eddie smacking her lightly on the arm in protest of her teasing. The two have become increasingly close since Eddie’s two month stint in the hospital recovering from demon bat rabies. Not rabies, Robin! Just a normal infection.
It was a shock at first, to find Eddie and Nancy spending time together away from everyone else. They just didn’t seem to fit together, from the outside looking in. But much like Steve and Robin, all you had to do was look past the surface.
Which means if Robin can successfully set up Steve and Eddie, they’ll create the perfect little quad. Sometimes she gets caught up imagining their double dates, if onlookers would be surprised to find Robin on Steve’s arm and Nancy on Eddie’s, and not the other way around.
They’d be able to go on actual dates in public. She could hold Nancy’s hand under the table and lean her head on Steve’s shoulder. He’d give her a light kiss on the forehead while playing footsie with Eddie. Then Robin would go home with Nancy and fall asleep wrapped up in each other like a dream.
It’s the perfect plan. Or at least, it would be if the boys could just take their heads out of their asses.
So as the six of them lazed around all day, Robin and Nancy made sure Steve and Eddie were always next to each other; although, they really didn’t have to try that hard. The boys reflexively sought each other out, eyes catching from across the room, or shoulders brushing sitting side by side.
They were the only two who shared a joint, even though Argyle had plenty to pass around. Steve whined about his low tolerance, how he didn’t need a full one, only for Eddie to fall over himself– literally, with how fast he turned to face him, almost smacking Steve in the head– to offer his own to share.
So when they walk back into the room and something feels just slightly off, Robin briefly wonders if her own smoke was stronger than normal, even though she’d only felt a slight buzz. That maybe, hopefully, this is some awful hallucination and the joints were laced with acid.
Argyle’s sitting on the sofa next to Jonathan right where they’d left him, now lazed over the arm and lightly snoring with his feet curled up underneath him like a giant cat. Eddie’s still sitting on the floor next to Jon’s legs, an open space to his right where Steve had been sitting only minutes ago. Except there’s something different with Nancy.
Nancy had been sitting in the chair across from Argyle earlier, complaining about Robin’s bony ass digging into her leg but refusing to let her up. Now she’s standing by the opening of the hallway, almost like she was waiting for them to come back. She's biting her lip, eyes wide, ringing her hands in front of her like she doesn’t know what to do with them.
Robin moves towards her, anxious to know what’s got her so upset. She notices Nancy’s eyes flitting between Steve and the boys, so Robin follows her gaze.
Jon’s bent forward, leaning down over Eddie like they're sharing a secret. His hand cradles Eddie’s cheek, and Robin can see the moment Eddie fits himself between Jon’s legs. Eddie cranes his neck as he turns to face him. It’s uncoordinated roaming hands and sloppy lips, too much tongue– and the sounds. Wet, slurping and sucking she’ll never be able to unhear, obnoxiously loud and seared into her brain.
They're kissing.
Robin’s going to throw up. She’s died, this must be hell. No wonder why Nance looks so freaked out. None of them knew about Jonathan. Sure, they all wondered if he and Argyle had something going on, but no one pried, and the two had never said anything. Objectively, Robin knows this wouldn’t bother Nancy. She and Jonathan dated almost three years ago, they’ve both moved on and are good friends at this point. So why would she–
Jonathan opens his eyes to find them watching. They crinkle around a smile as he looks behind her and tugs on Eddie’s curls. Without breaking eye contact, he shoves his tongue deep into Eddie’s mouth, who then moans in response. Robin’s not sure if Eddie knows they’re in the room, but Jonathan sure as hell does.
It takes her too long to put it together, to realize Jonathan’s not looking at her or Nancy. There’s a small whimper behind her where his gaze is locked and he smiles again, triumphant.
Robin rounds on Steve, who’s frozen to the spot. All the blood’s drained from his face, leaving him pale and sickly looking like he could pass out any second. He isn’t blinking. He’s staring and staring and staring, completely enraptured by the scene unfolding before them.
She bodily moves herself in front of him, thankful more than she’s ever been that he’s a little short for a boy and she’s a little tall for a girl. He won’t look at her, he can’t see her standing right in front of him, his eyes a million miles away. She grabs both of his hands and digs her nails into the meat of his palms.
His eyes finally snap to hers, and she almost wishes they hadn’t. Steve’s hands practically vibrate within her own, matching the wobbling of his lip and the shimmering on his lash line.
“Robs,” Steve croaks, the rest of his thought lodged in his throat.
There’s nothing she can do as she watches Steve’s heart shatter in real time, cracked down the center like it was struck with a bolt of lightning.
“Steve,” Eddie calls out in concern, “are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Robin turns around to face him, keeping her place in front of Steve like a shield. She catches the downcast of Jonathan’s eyes as his hand threads through the ends of Eddie’s hair, lips still loose and open waiting for the next kiss. But now Eddie’s pushing himself up from the floor, brows drawn tight together, fixated on Steve like he’s the only boy in the room.
Except she’s seen him look at Steve that way a thousand times in the months since they barely survived hell together. Eddie looked at Steve with stars in his eyes, like he was the man of his dreams. How he would grow wider and taller and louder if Steve kept laughing until he’d snort. A sound Eddie fucking loved. She’d watch Eddie take care of Steve during migraines, scrape his fingernails down his scalp until Steve fell asleep, head cradled in Eddie’s lap.
Robin loved watching Eddie watch Steve because, for the first time, it felt like someone finally saw in him what she’s always seen. She’s wanted nothing more for Steve than to have someone in his life who loves and takes care of him as much as she does. And Robin was so, so fucking sure that that person was Eddie Munson.
How things have gone horribly wrong.
Steve catches Eddie’s movement and bolts back toward the kitchen, faster than she’s ever seen him move on the court. Nancy moves to follow him but Robin slips her hand into hers. Beautiful, sweet, smart, wonderful Nancy Wheeler understands Robin quick as a flash, shoring up next to her to help block the hallway.
Eddie stands on tiptoes in front of them, stretching his neck to catch a glimpse of what Robin hopes is a closed door.
“What happened?” Eddie’s genuinely concerned, and Robin has to shove down the warm, fuzzy feeling she normally gets when Eddie asks about Steve in favor of the overwhelming urge to murder everyone in this room. Except for Nancy, and maybe Argyle, who’s started slowly waking up from the commotion.
Robin obnoxiously shifts to the side to block Eddie’s path. “Don’t worry about it, Munson. He’s fine, just a little sick from the shitty weed.” The weed isn’t shitty– it’s Argyle’s. It’s the first excuse her brain concocted. But it doesn’t really matter.
Her tone is barbed, meant to dig the hurt in deep and hook it inside his skin. She’s never considered herself a mean person. Apparently all someone has to do is hurt her best friend. Eddie flinches away, nose flared and eyes crinkled, ready to argue back until Nancy interrupts them both.
“If Steve isn’t feeling well,” her voice chimes with a practiced false sincerity, “maybe we should all head home and let him rest.” God Robin fucking loves this woman. Always quick on her feet, fast on the uptake.
Robin’s gaze is unyielding in the face of an angry Eddie Munson. They both know, under normal circumstances, Robin would back down by now. Every second he’s forced to soak in her wrath, she catches him shrinking further in on himself. There’s uncertainty growing in the uptick of his brows, the crease of his forehead. He’s tugging at the hem of his sleeveless Queen t-shirt.
Her lip pulls up into a fierce scowl in recognition. Robin tugs at the front of the shirt hard enough to stretch it out. She’s not too worried about ruining it anymore than it already is. There’s white paint stains on the shoulders from when Steve begged her to help give his bedroom walls a base coat. Little holes dotted along the hemline from Steve’s poorly-ashed joint a few months ago.
The shirt is old, faded, well-loved, and Steve’s. It’s all the reasons why Eddie asked to keep it, and why Steve didn’t hesitate to give it up, wanting Eddie to always have a little piece of him.
Robin’s white-knuckled grip stretches the shirt enough that the sound of ripping causes Eddie to try and escape. When she lets go, a few of the holes in the hemline have torn together. He stumbles backwards, smoothing out the new stretch marks on what’s left of the printed lettering.
Robin revels in the moment he truly recognizes what he's wearing. His face now completely devoid of the Freak’s bravado and misplaced anger. What’s left is a montage of emotions like confusion, frustration, and panic, running him over like a bulldozer and Robin gets to watch each hit smash him deeper into the dirt.
“Yeah, Nancy might be right,” Jonathan sighs, sounding faux-tired and yet all too pleased to call it early. He slaps his knees as he stands and gives Argyle’s shoulder enough of a shake to get the guy up and moving.
They gather their things, Nancy wandering over to help push them along, while Eddie and Robin stand as stone pillars facing each other. She’d plant herself here the rest of her life if it meant keeping her soulmate safe.
“Robin,” Eddie practically whimpers, “please–”
“Hey, uh, Teddy?” Jonathan chirps up happily from across the room. Eddie’s eyes slip closed in pain when Robin mockingly mouths the nickname back at him– one she thought was special, just for Steve. “I’ve still got a few more pre-rolls, want to head back to my place?”
Eddie’s eyes fly open. A sardonic smile splits her face as he chokes on his own spit in response. “Guess this means you won’t be staying. Right, Teddy?”
Eddie flinches when Jon slings a heavy arm over his shoulders, which morphs into a possessive claim when he drops his arm to wrap around Eddie’s waist, going so far as to slip the tip of his finger into the top of Eddie’s skin-tight jeans.
Robin notices Argyle’s hair dip forward to hide his face. It’s only now she realizes he’s missed everything that’s happened. Sure enough, she barely catches the shock in his eyes before he turns away.
This is such a fucking nightmare. If she breaks Jonathan’s head open with the nail bat upstairs, she wonders if she’ll be able to see the part of his brain that’ll tell her what the hell he was thinking when he decided to kiss Eddie.
Moving to extricate himself from Jonathan’s hold, Eddie awkwardly chuckles. “Actually, Johnny-boy, I think I might just head home instead.”
“Oh,” Jonathan frowns, in a way that Robin absolutely hates. “How are you going to get home? Didn’t Steve pick you up earlier?”
Eddie– eyes still locked on Robin– very obviously flounders for an excuse and Robin’s enjoying watching him grasp at straws. “I’ll just walk home. Little bit of fresh air never killed anyone, right?”
“No, dude,” Jonathan croons, “I can give you a ride. I’m more than happy to go a little out of my way if it’s for you. Maybe we can smoke at your place instead?”
Jonathan’s free hand reaches up towards Eddie’s hair again, like a little boy pulling his crushes pigtails for attention. But Eddie practically throws himself at the opposite wall, putting as much space between them as he can without actually running down the front door.
“I’m dropping off Argyle, anyway,” Nancy jumps in to save the day, her hand gently patting Argyle’s shoulder, “and you two live the same direction. So why don’t I drive Eddie home instead?”
“Please,” Eddie begs, staring at Robin as he melts with relief into the wall. “That’s great, yes. Thanks Nance.”
Jonathan seems to have shrugged off the entire exchange as he moves towards the door to slip his shoes on. Nancy and Argyle are already ready to go, waiting on Eddie, who’s slowly backing his way toward them and still looking at her. This might be the first staring contest Robin’s ever won in her whole life.
Once he’s finally got his shit together, Eddie looks her up and down, confusion scrunched between his eyes. “Aren’t you coming with? You said you and Nancy were–”
“I think I’ll be staying here, thanks,” Robin states flatly.
Eddie chews on his lip, but nods and heads out the door, Jonathan still hot on his heels. Her and Nancy exchange a quick I love you, good luck, keep me updated goodbye before she shuts the door behind her.
Every fantasy Robin imagined about a future filled with her favorite people fell apart in the span of five minutes. She can’t help but wonder if they had just gone back to the party sooner. If Steve had confessed to Eddie yesterday. If Eddie hadn’t gotten so high or maybe even if Jonathan had an ounce of common sense, this could’ve been avoided.
Robin could be lying in bed with Nancy tonight, wrapped around each other, comfortable and warm. She could fall asleep proud that Steve had finally worked up the courage to confess how he felt. She could’ve woken up tomorrow imagining her two favorite dinguses were in a similar tangled mess of limbs, and she could smile knowing they finally found each other.
But now, silence presses against the walls of this empty house, pushing at the ceiling and cracking the foundation. It sits heavy on her chest. Her head’s filled with static and she thinks she finally understands the juxtaposition of a loud silence. But a weak sob cuts the air like a jagged shard of glass. Turning towards the kitchen, she shores up everything she has left in her to help her soulmate pick up the shattered pieces of his broken heart.
Eddie’s propped up against the door in the backseat, warm breath fogging the window, eyes open but completely sightless. Nancy wonders what’s going through his head, if he’s figured out why Steve’s upset and Robin’s angry enough to pick a fight.
She doesn’t think he knows that Steve’s bisexual. Clearly Robin’s constant meddling hasn’t spurred his confessions. At the very least, Eddie has to be confused about how abruptly Steve reacted. Nancy could see the helpless anguish in Eddie’s face as he watched tears shimmer in Steve’s eyes.
The sight of a heartbroken Steve Harrington is awful to bear. It isn’t something she’d wish on anyone, let alone someone as amazing as Eddie. Now it’s just another shitty thing she and Eddie have in common, like surviving the apocalypse or having curly hair.
She shifts her eyes sideways and finds Argyle slightly more relaxed than Eddie but still unusually quiet. It could be the high, she supposes. But she’s seen him smoke almost twice as much as he had tonight and be completely fine. She doesn’t even know him that well and the silence is still unsettling.
They’re about five minutes into the drive when Argyle’s eyes flash to the rearview mirror. “So, Eddie, I didn’t know you and Johnny were a thing.”
“We aren’t,” Eddie startles, almost like in his brooding he forgot where he was. Nancy catches him shifting in his seat. He’s clearly uncomfortable, biting his lip as his eyes skirt back and forth between his lap and Argyle’s in the mirror.
“Sure looked like you two were pretty into each other,” Argyle says. His tone is an honest attempt at light and carefree. It lacks the signature Argyle vibrancy.
Eddie catches her looking in the rearview mirror, faster than Nancy can avert her gaze. He huffs, nostrils flared, though his eyes are wide with anxiety. “It’s not like that,” he tries to argue back.
Argyle scoffs. “Seemed like Johnny thought it was.”
“Well it wasn’t.”
The boys almost simultaneously cross their arms and slump back into their seats. It’s quiet until they pull up to Argyle’s new apartment. Once out of the car, he leans back inside. Big brown eyes downcast, his hair hangs loose around his face, shielding him from view of the backseat. Nancy can practically see his heart on his sleeve when he looks at her.
“Nance, let me know how he’s doing?” The question is vague enough that he could mean any of them, but Argyle’s heart is four sizes bigger than anyone she’s met. Of course he’d care about Steve even now that he’s got his own problems.
She smiles, small and sad but hopefully reassuring. “It’s a deal.” He taps the roof of the car, moving to close the door before she surprises herself by calling out to him again. “But if you need anything, you know, maybe someone to talk to–” she hesitates, scrambling for the right words. “It’s just– I know Jonathan better than anyone, other than you, obviously. So if you want to talk, you can always call me.”
Now more than ever Nancy cringes at how socially out-of-place she always feels. It sounds like she’s placing some sort of weird claim on Jonathan, implying that he’s still somehow, inarguably hers after all this time. Even after Robin.
She quickly gathers her wits to explain herself, wishing she could just shove her tiny foot in her mouth when he cuts through her anxiety with a smile. It matches hers from only moments ago: small, sad, but hopeful. “Sounds like a deal, Big Wheels.”
Nancy chuckles at the new nickname, pulling a more genuine smile out of the both of them. She watches as steps inside before pulling out of the lot and back onto the road toward the trailer park.
Argyle’s absence somehow only makes the tension worse. Eddie stays sitting in the back, slumped forward enough that Nancy worries he’s not actually buckled in. His head is in his hands, face hidden away.
Her and Eddie have grown close since the final battle with Vecna, just barely making it to the hospital in time to stop him from bleeding out. Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin had sat by his bedside in shifts almost every day for two weeks until he finally woke up. She’d driven him to his appointments, helped him with errands, and made an easy, detailed schedule for his medications.
They’d sat around watching shitty TV reruns. She’d smoked her first joint with him, just two of them sprawled out on the couch talking about all the shit they’d been through. Except every single time, no matter how their conversations started, they always ended with Robin and Steve.
What started as delicate conversations turned into late night confessions. Eddie was the first person she turned to when she started questioning herself. Nancy knows she was the only person he’d told about his crush on Steve. He’d made her promise not to tell anyone– especially Robin, obviously– and she’d agreed to take it to the grave. She’s fairly sure Robin made a similar promise to Steve. Though, that didn’t stop them from constantly encouraging the boys to just talk to each other.
After what happened today, it’s painfully obvious that Steve likes Eddie just as much as Eddie likes him. Robin’s reaction to everything almost outright confirms it without Steve even having to say anything. At least, it’s obvious to most people.
“I don’t see what the big deal is– why anyone even cares.” Eddie’s words are barely discernible, mumbling into his own hands pressed against his face. He runs his hands roughly through his hair as he leans back against the seat, looking at Nancy through the mirror with wild, angry eyes.
“I maybe get why you would be upset,” Eddie continues his rant, gesturing at her. His voice begins to rise with frustration, his movements a bit erratic– ‘worked up’ as how Wayne puts it. “You’re with Robin now, and I know you don’t feel that way about Jonathan anymore. But… It just doesn’t make sense.”
He’s pulling at his curls, and she wants to wrap her hands in his to get him to stop. “Robin’s never been mad at anyone before, and she looked like she was trying not to hit me. She wouldn’t even let me talk to Steve, which is bullshit considering I spend just as much time with him as she does, spend just as many nights there as her. I deserve to know why he’s upset!”
She stays quiet, knowing she’ll get her moment when he runs out of fuel. He always does eventually, it’s just a matter of patience– something she’s grown a lot better at between being best friends with Eddie and dating Robin.
He slumps down into the seat, strings cut. Eddie fails to stop a stray tear from breaking loose as he tips his head back. She sighs as they finally pull up to the trailer, throwing the car in park before she fully turns around to face him. When he refuses to meet her gaze, Nancy sighs again, loud and obnoxious to get his attention.
She puts a steadying hand on his knee and heaves herself over the center counsel, pushing herself clumsily into the back seat. Eddie yelps in surprise when her knee hits something soft, but they eventually sort themselves out. They turn to face each other, legs tangled up in the middle.
“Nance,” Eddie sighs, his quiet voice tinged with sadness, “why do I feel so shitty about a stupid kiss?”
She reaches across the seats to grab his hand, gently running her thumb across the top of his knuckles. “Do you like Jonathan?”
“Of course I do. What’s not to like?” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself it’s true, eyes scrunched and brow furrowed. She shoots him a scrutinizing glare, and he rolls his eyes in response. “Jesus Christ, Nancy, just say whatever you want to say. You look like you’re trying to kill me with your brain.”
“No, El kills people with her brain. I shoot guns.”
He chuckles nervously, trying to pull his hand away, but she grips it tighter.
She sighs and asks him again, with pointed emphasis. “Do you like like him, though?”
“Do I like like him?” Eddie mimics her, his teasing laugh strained with sarcasm. “Never thought I’d see the day where Nancy Wheeler– my actual fucking best friend, despite the odds– holds my hand and asks if I like like her ex.”
“Which ex?” Nancy shoots back, quick as a whip.
“... What?”
“Jonathan or Steve?”
“What–” Eddie tries to pull away again, and this time she lets him– “I thought we were talking about Jon?”
Nancy hums in thought. “Are we? Is this about your feelings for Jonathan?”
Before Nancy can stop him, he scoffs and throws himself out of the car. She scrambles across the seat and follows him out. His legs may be longer, but even after almost a full recovery, she’s still faster on her feet. Nancy catches him by the wrist just as he jams his key into the front door.
“Eddie, stop acting like a child and talk to me,” Nancy says. “Don’t storm off and pretend like we both don’t know why you’re upset.”
“It was just a kiss!” He rounds on her with red fury in his cheeks, tears clinging to his lashline. “It was just a stupid, fun kiss. I shouldn’t have to feel this way because someone kissed me at a party and I kissed them back. I don’t see why it’s a big deal, it’s not like it matters.”
“Seems like it mattered to Steve.” It’s about as close as she can hint without getting into trouble with Robin. Nancy knows Steve’s still playing his cards close to his chest, but she also knows sometimes it’s best to just go all in.
Air rushes out of Eddie’s lungs, breath punched out of him as Nancy hits her proverbial target. Although she does wish she could actually punch him sometimes. Which is why it almost feels like a small triumph when she watches the poorly-obscured implication settle over him.
Another tear breaks from its hold. He uses the back of his sleeve to wipe his face and drag it across his sniffling nose. Absolutely disgusting, but she doesn’t say anything, even though she desperately wants to offer him a tissue from her car.
“He was just upset because of the–”
“‘The shitty weed?’” Nancy finishes for him, quoting Robin’s awful excuse from earlier. “Do you mean Argyle’s personal stash?” It’s the best marijuana Nancy’s ever smoked, although that only includes Eddie’s wrinkled joints he re-discovers in random pockets and bags.
When Eddie opens his mouth, she’s already one step ahead of his ridiculous arguments. “And don’t you dare say he was upset because he’s homophobic.”
She hears the click of his teeth for how hard his jaw snaps closed. Nancy slips her hand down from his wrist and slides her fingers between his. This time when she squeezes, he squeezes back.
“He’s straight, Nance. You should know that better than anyone.” He sniffles and– to her horror– doesn’t let go of her hand when he uses the same arm to wipe his face again. God, men are animals. At least she’s never had to watch Robin pick her nose, even though the way she flosses is pretty graphic.
She sighs, throwing her arms around him in a hug, if not to get away from his snotty hands. “Seemed pretty upset for a straight best friend.” Nancy kisses him on the cheek before pulling away, making her way back down the stairs toward her car. “But you’re right, I would know better than anyone how Steve could feel right now.”
Driving home, she hopes her message landed, that maybe she’s helped and not overstepped. Especially when it comes to Steve. She can’t bear to see him heartbroken again, up close and personal in a way she selfishly distanced herself from last time.
But she thinks, unlike the last time, Steve has a chance to be truly happy with someone who loves him more than anything in the world. The chance to be with someone who wants to take care of him, and be doted on in return. She’s finally found that in Robin, and she damn well knows Eddie’s the one for Steve. So if it means she toed the line on saying too much, then it’ll all be worth it if it’s the nudge Eddie needs to find his courage.
~~~
I always upload to Tumblr first but follow on ao3 if you prefer
Part 3
Tag List: (lmk if you'd like to be added/removed!)
No one's really surprised to see famous rockstar Eddie Munson show up to the 2024 Paris Olympics. His close friendship with three-time medalist gymnast Chrissy Cunningham had the press working over time when the pair were first spotted six years ago leaving a fundraising event.
However, no one can seem to figure out why- in Chrissy's down time- the metal head is frequently spotted at the men's swimming events. Everyone knows Munson's queer, but he's not the type to show up just to oggle some poor, unsuspecting athletes (he is, but the press don't need to know he's a bit of a freak).
Prime time news coverage chock it up to Eddie supporting the best of the USA's Olympians, including Steve Harrington, who just broke the world record for men's fastest 100m freestyle. They'd pointed out it wasn't odd he was there, since he also made appearances at other events with up and coming stars, such as Lucas Sinclair for men's basketball and Nancy Wheeler for women's skeet shooting. When asked about it, he'd laughed it off, saying swimming was Chrissy's favorite sport to watch and he promised he'd fill her in on what she missed.
That didn't stop fans online from obsessing over small details, including Eddie's repeat appearances at the swimming events, where he only showed once for anything else that wasn't Chrissy's competitions. There was no way he could keep Chrissy filled in on what she missed when he only showed up to meets Harrington competed in, not all men's swimming events.
Fan edits of Eddie Munson clapping a little too hard, screaming a little too loud, and overall just a little bit more excited for Harrington's podium than Chrissy's gold medal spread across the internet like wildfire. One blurry shot caught Harrington briefly look in his direction when he won his silver, but it was hard to be certain.
Tucked into bed after another long day of interviews, Eddie pulls up a few of the best fan edits Jeff and Gareth sent him earlier. It's become a bit of a habit over the past few weeks to watch his favorite ones before he goes to sleep. He feels the bed dip next to him, a warm hand slide over his chest and a leg push between his own.
"Aww babe," Steve coos, "did we get new ones today?"
Eddie leans down, dropping little kisses on his husband's forehead. "Apparently Jeff says these ones are even more convincing than last week's."
Steve hums a content little sigh before nuzzling into the crook of Eddie's neck. They've been riskier about public appearances this time around compared to Tokyo, but they've agreed to publicly come out after this year's games are over. So, why not have a little fun with it?
They release a fan edit of their own later that year posted on the official Corroded Coffin profile. It's a reaction video of them watching all of their favorite tiktoks and fanart and Tumblr posts. They laugh, point out inaccuracies, answer fan questions, and post a few pictures of their own, including the two of them standing under an arch of flowers exchanging rings.
prompt: one || wc: 111 || rating: T || cws: nudity, excessive fluff
~~~
"One.” Poke.
“Two.” Poke.
“Threeee--”
“Eddie, babe, you can't count them all,” Steve sighs, lying naked on his stomach. Eddie's soft now, pressed alongside him, fingertips roaming his back.
“You have no idea what I'm capable of, sweetheart.” Obnoxiously waggling his eyebrows, a wicked grin paints his face.
“You tried last night and failed,” Steve chuckles.
“Maybe you're right.” Eddie bites his shoulder, and Steve yelps. “But this time, I've got a marker.”
Head lost to the clouds, Steve's eyelids feel heavy with love.
“Four. Five. Six.”
Poke. Poke. Poke.
It feels wet, smells sharp.
“Wait,” Steve gasps, flailing for Eddie's hands while his boyfriend laughs maniacally, “you've got a what?”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
prompt: dress || wc: 350 || rating: G || tags: excessive fluff and general adorableness
~~~
“Put this on,” Steve says, tossing the black button up at him. He’s been digging through Eddie’s closet for almost ten minutes while Eddie’s struggled to get his favorite black jeans on. It’s the first time he’s worn real clothes since leaving the hospital almost three months ago.
“I don’t want to wear this, Steve.”
“Harrington,” Steve bitches back.
“Ok Harrington,” Eddie says, playful sarcasm dripping into his tone, “why am I wearing this? It’s pretty stuffy for dinner and a movie on the couch.”
“It’s a date, Munson. Dress to impress.” Eddie can’t help but chuckle at the sound of his last name. Steve smiles at him. He throws a red tie around Eddie’s neck before tying a perfect knot. “Are you sure you’re ok getting to the door on your own? Everything’s already set up and he’s gonna be here in five minutes. I could grab your cane and–”
“Yes, I can open the door for my date, I don’t need you to do it.” It’s a joke, but when he looks up, Steve’s face is unsure, lips tilted downward with sad eyes.
“And you’re sure you like the guy?” It’s insecure, vulnerable, and genuine.
“Of course I do,” Eddie smiles. “Yo– he’s perfect.”
Five minutes later, Eddie carefully makes his way through the trailer to open the front door. Standing on the other side is the prettiest boy he’s ever seen, holding a bouquet of daisies and wearing the yellow tie Eddie picked out earlier.
“Hi, Eddie,” the boy’s blushing, nervous with anticipation, until a cocksure smile lights his face. “You look really nice tonight. Love the shirt, good choice.”
Eddie’s cheeks burn as he laughs, raking his eyes over the man he’s been in love with for almost three months. “I was told guys like when I get all gussied up.”
Steve hums, stepping up the stairs to wrap his hands around the back of Eddie’s neck. “That guy sounds pretty smart. Should I be worried about him?”
“No, sweetheart,” Eddie smiles wide, pecking him on the cheek. “you’re the only man I ever wanna date.”
Was going to post this for the steddie microfic June prompt, but decided it's probably not Steddie-centric. Still sticking to the reqs though, just for fun!
Everyone knows Steve’s house is free reign for hangouts, yet the Party’s collectively designated Sundays as alone time for the new couple. So it’s a bit of a surprise that someone’s knocking.
The fact someone’s knocking at all is weird.
“Hey sweetheart,” Eddie shouts from the living room, “can you grab that? I think someone’s here.”
Steve opens the door to find Dustin and Max looking slightly shy, if he had to put his finger on it. Odd, especially for them. They’re holding gift bags filled with colorful tissue paper, Max’s blue and Dustin’s red.
Before Steve can invite them in, they surge past him towards the living room. So not too far off from normal, he thinks.
He trails after them and finds Eddie right where he left him– sitting on the floor, surrounded by DnD books and a notebook perched in his lap.
“Babe, what are the sheepies doing here? It’s Sunday,” Eddie asks. He’s smiling up at them, despite the interruption.
Of course they’re happy to see the kids– always are, always will be– but only these two could get away with showing up on Eddie and Steve day.
“We brought you something,” Max says, thrusting the gift into Steve’s arms. Dustin drops his onto Eddie’s lap, scattering his loose notes.
Curious, Steve looks to catch Eddie’s expression to find him already tearing into the gift. Steve sets his on the coffee table and digs out the colorful paper.
Inside he finds a plain, white coffee mug, except it’s been hand-painted with colorful paint pens. On it he finds a basketball, baseball, and a crudely drawn version of his beloved beemer. But on the front, the word “Dingus” is written in Max’s bubble font underneath a bloody version of his nail bat.
His eyes sting with warmth, and he looks up at Max, whose cheeks are flushed red. Steve finds Eddie holding a similar mug covered in what he assumes are DnD monsters, along with some dice, and his precious Warlock on the front with “Metalhead” underneath.
“What is this,” Steve asks, choking on the lump lodged in his throat.
“It’s all stuff you like,” Max replies, pointing at the mug, choosing the easy answer instead of the real one.
”No– why?” Steve feels like he can’t breathe, his eyes almost full, and his heart racing.
“It’s Father’s Day,” Dustin says, sniffling and wringing his hat in his hands “and me and Max, you know, we don’t–”
“You guys taught us how to play basketball, so we could practice with Lucas,” Max interrupts. “And how to play guitar. And all of the Upside-Down stuff. You’re always here.”
Steve wraps Max up in his arms, dragging her to the ground next to Dustin similarly draped over Eddie. It’s not the six little nuggets Steve asked for.
But these kids– their kids– are so much more than he ever could’ve hoped for.
~~~
To everyone out there who doesn't have a father, your father is absolute shit, or you mom was both parents -- I hope you have as good a Sunday as possible.
Eddie rides big, rumbling, twin engine Harleys with the Hellfire gang. They wear leather, eat at seedy bars, and spend their evenings listening to live bands.
Steve rides sleek, fast, Ducati rockets with The Kings. They wear stylish racing jackets that match their bikes, eat at bars on the waterfront, and spend their nights dancing at clubs.
Hellfire and The Kings have run into each other a few times. Other than the stray glare or sneer, they tend to stay out of each other's way. The groups keep to their own territories.
That all changes when Tommy, second for The Kings, catches Eddie and Steve in a heap of tangled limbs, sweat slick and panting into each other's mouths in a cramped bar bathroom. A betrayal not just to the gang, but to him. Being a second's supposed to mean something.
Later, Eddie's posted up in the corner booth of The Tavern, anxiously checking his phone. It's almost one in the morning, and he never heard from Steve when he rushed out after Tommy.
It's three am when he decides he can't wait anymore.
He's only ever been to Loch nightclub after closing, when Steve sneaks him in through the back as Tommy walks out the front. It was always a rush, hearing him shout his goodbye while Eddie already had his hands wrapped around Steve's cock.
Eddie sneaks through that same back door, alone, to find Steve beaten and bloodied on the bar floor. Unmoving, ripped clothing, broken glass scattered around him like a halo and a broken beer bottle rolled a few feet away.
There's condensation when he holds the glass up to his sweetheart's mouth.
Tucked underneath Steve's bruised forehead is a blood smeared note. Tommy's handwriting declaring The King is Dead. Burn in Hellfire.
It's only then Eddie notices the sting of heavy smoke in his eyes and throat. He spots a chain and padlock on the front door, and can only hope the back's still open. The building cracks as flames lick the walls.
So many times before, Eddie's wrapped his baby up in his arms. But not like this, never like this. A dead weight, soot stained and tear streaked.
Alive. Barely.
Three weeks later, it's the first war in almost fifty years. Steve climbs onto his new, matte black Ducati with pin stripe flames on the back fender, outfitted in Eddie's old worn leather jacket already littered with patches. However, one new patch across the back catches everyone's eye.
King of Hell.
Atop his new chariot, they ride to war, with Steve at his side where he's always belonged.
