Regardless of how many times Eddie has made a complete ass of himself, he’s never let himself be perceived as soft.
It was easier when he lived with his uncle — the boys would come over for game night, or to rehearse for their next gig, and they wouldn’t ask him uneasy questions.
Even after he came out about his relationship.
For them, he assumed, it was out of sight and out of mind. Eddie still had loads of free time to dedicate to his friends, so there wasn’t really much to address.
The first incident happened on the three month anniversary of when he got together with his partners, which of course happened to fall on a night he had a session of D&D to attend. His request to push the game back until the next day was denied profusely until he shrugged and through gritted teeth said, painfully, that he would just have to miss the game if they wanted to carry on with it so badly.
So the game got pushed back. And when Eddie showed up that next day, he was greeted with an intervention rather than snacks and beer.
Ever since then, after the handful of ignored calls and cancelled band practices that followed, he’s mostly been able to skirt by with his friends without issue.
Then he had to go and move in with his boyfriends like some lovesick loser, as Gareth had put it when he first found out.
Eddie’s enjoyed the freedom of having a newer, slightly larger living space. He likes not having to go home and sleep alone, or sneak into someone else’s bed just to have to sneak back out before dawn.
It makes him feel soft, which makes him feel pathetic.
Which is why his skin is crawling at the thought of hosting in the new place for the first time.
He makes sure the fridge is stocked with beer, that there’s an array of snacks to choose from on the counter, and he has a selection of rentals from Family Video lying on the coffee table.
None of that stops the air from going tense and heavy when his friends show up.
They’ve abstained from asking questions about his relationship thus far, but the temptation must grow impossible to ignore when they step into the house and see evidence that it’s real. That Eddie moved all of his shit into another place and he’s serious about it.
That it’s clearly not just hooking up or whatever like he’s been saying for forever.
It’s for real and there’s the faint beat of water against tile from somewhere at the back of the house, the only noise aside from the stagnant tension in the air.
Eddie bounces his leg restlessly, tapping the neck of his beer bottle with his index finger as he stares down at the untouched tapes on the coffee table. Anxiously waiting for the inevitable.
“Where’re your guitars?” Gareth asks, and then clears his throat. “Thought you’d have ‘em hanging up in here.”
“They’re in the bedroom.”
Gareth nods. He’s slouching on the sofa, arm draped over the back of it as he looks around.
“Who picked out the fugly carpet and matching curtains?”
Eddie purses his lips when Grant and Jeff both snicker.
“Steve, uh, likes flannel.”
“Are those your posters?” Grant asks.
“Those are Billy’s, actually.” Eddie glances over at the wall behind the tv, featuring everything from Dolly Parton to Jimi Hendrix, and he spreads a little smile. “Well, the ABBA poster is Steve’s, but we keep telling him it’s not a permanent addition.”
“Where are your posters at?” Grant asks.
Eddie looks at him, perched next to Gareth on the couch, and nods his head toward the back of the house.
“Do you have anything of yours out here? Or is it all in the room?” Jeff asks.
The question sounds accusatory. Eddie almost winces at the word bedroom, like referring to it as the room reinforces the fact that he shares a bed.
He would give almost anything for that little bit of information to not be processed. Hell, he’d give anything for this conversation to be over and done with.
It would save him the embarrassment.
“I mean, most of my shit was out of my room at Wayne’s, so it doesn’t really fit with the rest of the—“
“Why don’t you have the guitars out here? Seems kind of impractical to have them in your bedroom,” Gareth interrupts. “Not enough room to jam.”
Eddie swipes his thumb in a circle around the rim of his beer.
“Not really enough wall space.”
Jeff blows a raspberry and chuckles. The mismatched armchair that he’s sitting in almost looks like it’s about to swallow him whole.
“There’s a fucking decorative skateboard rack on the wall, but you couldn’t put your guitars up?”
“Oh, those aren’t decorative, Billy skates. He’s actually pretty g—“
“Did they at least let you help pick out furniture or anything?”
“Yeah, this stuff doesn’t really seem like it’s your style,” Grant adds.
Quickly, the three of them are attaching their inputs and observations together like train cars, one after the other, and Eddie’s vision goes hazy as he tunes them out.
Thinly-veiled insults here, passive aggression there.
Vaguely, in the background, the water stops running. How Eddie can still pick that up, he has no idea, but he can feel his ears quirk when the blow dryer starts whirring. Then his head is turning when he hears footsteps.
The chatter stops immediately when a figure emerges from the bedroom.
Steve pads out with a towel around his waist, hair wet and slicked back, and makes a direct line for the kitchen counter. Ignores the eyes that are lingering on him as he pulls a drawer open and unearths a pack of smokes and a lighter.
When he shakes a cigarette out and hastily lights it, pulling the smoke into his lungs, his eyes flick up to meet several gazes. All but Eddie turn their heads away.
Steve huffs amusedly. Drops everything back into the drawer and shuts it, crossing the small distance into the living room.
Eddie laments the fact that the blow dryer is still audibly running — Billy and Steve obviously showered together, and it makes Eddie want to go lie down in the street. Even more so when Steve comes to stand beside the recliner and Eddie’s eyes linger on the droplets of water dripping down his chest.
“Thought you were havin’ movie night,” Steve says, cigarette pinched between his lips.
He combs his fingers loosely into Eddie’s hair, and the other brunet exhales a stiff sigh as he tilts his head back to rest against the top of the recliner.
“We are,” Eddie says. “Giving a metaphorical, verbal tour of the house.”
Steve hums. Blows smoke through his nose and smiles, and Eddie swears he can feel the warmth of it on his skin.
“Well, be careful if you take a literal tour. I don’t think I’ll be able to wrangle Bill back into clothes tonight.”
He plucks the cigarette from his mouth with his free hand and leans down to press a kiss to Eddie’s forehead before he pulls away. It spurs a surge of unwelcome butterflies in the pit of Eddie’s stomach.
Then Steve takes his leave, retreating back into the bedroom. Eddie’s gaze lingers on the cracked door, listening for the muffled sounds of arguing when Billy sees that his stash has been robbed. A little smile quirks at the corners of Eddie’s lips.
He almost forgets for a moment that he’s not at home with just his partners.
“What was that about?” Gareth asks.
Eddie returns his gaze to the sofa and quirks a brow.
“The way he came in here.”
A beat of silence passes. Eddie shrugs.
“I mean, we’re all guys, I didn’t think it was weird that he came out in a towel,” he says.
“No, the way he came in here to check on you. Right out of the shower, like he was jealous and couldn’t even bother to dry off first.”
Now, Eddie sputters out a laugh, but he sobers and clears his throat when all three of his friends fix him with nothing but serious expressions.
“Are you serious?” he asks.
“Seemed like he was trying to signal that he didn’t want us here, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Jeff adds. “Like, asking if it was movie night when he already knows? He was basically saying that if we don’t start a movie right away, we might as well leave.”
“Textbook manipulation,” Grant says.
Eddie can’t help that he laughs.
“Holy shit, is there a gas leak in here or something? What the fuck are you guys talking about?”
The three of them all exchange glances, and suddenly, he’s at that bullshit intervention again.
“First,” Gareth begins. Glances over his shoulder to ensure that no one else is listening before he turns back to Eddie, lowering his voice. “They don’t let you put any of your stuff up, and now they can’t even let you be alone with your friends for half an hour before one of them interrupts? How do you not see what they’re up to?”
“Yeah, Eddie, you need to remember your roots. We always hated people like them,” Grant says.
“Preps,” Jeff says. “And once a prep, always a prep. They’ll choose each other over the freak every time.”
While Eddie is stared at expectantly, he simply breathes. In and out. In and out. Listens to his blood running in the shells of his ears, like the distant sound of the ocean.
Thinks about how this is so much worse than it was last time, and he swears he can see himself in the third person, sitting in the recliner.
Each second that passes is two seconds lost.
“Did you guys, like, rehearse this before you came over?” he muses, though there’s no humor in his voice. “I mean, what the fuck are you even saying to me right now? That because the shit from my high school bedroom isn’t plastered all over the walls, and Steve gave me a kiss, that I’m in some kind of toxic environment? Do none of you realize how insane that sounds?”
“Dude, you’ve been calling whatever this is a fling and shit for the past like six months!”
Eddie shakes his head and tsks, sitting up and moving to the edge of his seat. About to say fuck it and kick them all out the front door.
“You just seem like you’re rushing in, and we don’t want you to get hurt,” Jeff says.
“Yeah,” Grant adds. “We’re telling you this because we care, man.”
Almost as if it’s by the flick of a switch, Eddie zaps back into his body, and he grits his teeth. Shoots up out of his seat and furrows his brows, veins fixing to pop if he so much as breathes too deep.
“Ever think that maybe I’ve been taking it seriously the whole time? Maybe I just didn’t talk about it in front of you guys because I didn’t want to get made fun of?” Eddie confesses. “I really… I really like my boys. I love them. I love waking up and getting to have morning cuddles with Billy while Steve makes pancakes, and I love the way our place is decorated. Maybe it says something about you guys that my fucking safe haven is with the preps, when you’re supposed to be my people.”
Eddie heaves a sigh once he’s done and sweeps a hand over his face, suddenly so drained that he isn’t sure how many counts he stares at the carpet for. Limbs shaking, heart thundering like he just ran ten miles.
When he looks up, all he sees are ghost-white faces staring back up at him. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spies figures in the doorway of the bedroom.
He looks over, immediately flushing red.
Steve stands there in an ugly pair of plaid pajama pants, and Billy is behind him, shrouded in a white robe with the letter E embroidered on the collar.
Earlier, Eddie might’ve blown a fuse over the small detail, worried about how it implies that they share clothes, or worse, that they have three matching bathrobes with their initials on them. Right now, he couldn’t give less of a shit.
Not when both of them are looking at him with glassy eyes.
He stares, dumbfounded by what he just said for a long, long moment. Unsure if he’s sleeping on the couch tonight or if he’s getting the ride of his life once it’s lights out.
“Did you just say that you love us?” Steve rasps.
His chin trembles, and from behind him, Billy chuckles as he sets a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Steve clears his throat and nods.
“I love you too,” he manages.
The tension relaxes out of Eddie’s shoulders, and he smiles as he sets his half-empty beer down on the coffee table.
“It’s okay, baby, you don’t have to pretend to be all stoic about it,” he says with a chuckle. “C’mere.”
Steve immediately crosses the room and moves into a hug when Eddie opens his arms around him, moisture overflowing his red-rimmed eyes. Steve is warm, and he smells fresh. Like clean laundry and sandalwood. Eddie holds him tighter and tucks his face into the bend where his shoulder meets his neck.
For a moment, it’s just the two of them. Eddie kisses his skin, and with every press, he hopes Steve hears the silent I’m sorry I waited so long that accompanies it.
Then Eddie rests his chin on his partner’s shoulder and sighs. Shifts his gaze to where Billy meanders into the room and stops behind the sofa, leaning his elbows against the back of it.
Suddenly, Eddie remembers that they aren’t alone, and the tension in the rest of the room is almost tangible outside of the little bubble he’s in.
Gareth, seated right in front of where Billy leans, is frozen in his seat. Doesn’t move, even when the blond reaches an arm down to touch the label of his vest and examine the closest pin.
Because even in the poofy white robe, with his curls fresh and fluffy, Billy breathes intimidation.
“I know about everything,” he says softly. Flicks playfully at the pin before he pulls his hand away, folding his arms and resting his chin atop them. Conversational. “If you keep it up, Corroded Coffin will be disbanded, and you’ll lose your dungeon master. Stevie advocates for Edd to hang out with you guys constantly, but I don’t fucking like you, and I don’t want you in my house if you’re gonna spew nothin’ but nonsense.”
Gareth, eyes wide, looks to Eddie. A silent plea for help, or for backup of any kind.
Eddie simply raises his eyebrows, hands smoothing over Steve’s back.
“If you don’t want me in your house… then why am I here?” Gareth asks.
“Because I ignored my gut even though I smelled bullshit, hoping to be proven wrong. Back talk me again and I’ll beat your skinny ass.” Billy chews his lip, mulling something over in silence for a moment. “Movie night’s cancelled.”
Steve sniffles and leans away from Eddie, his eyes mostly dry as he turns and fixes the blond with a tired look.
When Billy simply holds up a finger, Steve rolls his eyes.
“And go ahead and give me twenty push-ups.”
“What?” Grant asks, looking to Eddie. “He’s joking, right?”
Eddie shrugs. Laces his arms around Steve’s waist from behind and leans into him, nosing fondly at his freshly-dried hair.
“I don’t personally know him to be funny.”
“Drop and give me twenty or I drop you off in the middle of the woods naked, how ‘bout that?” he lilts. There’s a brief second of anticipation before Gareth decidedly slides out of his seat, and the others do the same. Billy hums in approval as they all get on all fours and assume the position. “No girl pushups, either, knees off the ground. And I’m gonna need an out-loud count.”
Gareth lowers his chest to the ground, arms already beginning to shake as he manages a strangled, “One…”
Jeff and Grant echo him. Billy pushes himself up away from the sofa and rounds the side of it, coming to stand beside the couple.
“I love you too, by the way,” Billy murmurs. Reaches up to brush his knuckles lightly against Eddie’s cheek before he leans in to meet him in a quick kiss. “Missed you in the shower.”
“It’s too cramped for all three of us in there.”
Billy tilts into another kiss, his thumb tracing the cut of Eddie’s jaw all the while.
“I’m glad you like the way our place is decorated,” Steve says. “Dustin and Rob gave me so much shit when they came to help set stuff up.”
“I like the curtains and the rug… reminds me of sneaking into your old room,” Eddie says.
“That fucking wallpaper used to give me headaches, I’d only fuck in there if it was dark,” Billy snickers.
The three of them share a laugh. Then, Billy glances down at the floor and purses his lips when there’s silence.
“They made it to four,” Steve whispers.
“Just four? Pity.” Billy claps his hands together a few times. “Up, ladies, let’s go.”
The three boys on the floor push themselves up, faces flushed red. Gareth brings a hand up to his chest and rubs near his shoulder, walking warily toward the front door when Billy steps over to it and grabs the handle.
“Are you… are you really gonna take us to the woods naked?” he wonders.
Billy makes a face, like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard, and pulls the door open.
“No, man, just go home. Get naked there if you want, I don’t care.”
At the words, Gareth and the others look confused, but they file outside anyway. Then Billy shuts the door behind them and locks the deadbolt before he sighs.
“You’re so mean,” Steve murmurs.
“I like assertive better,” Billy says. Closes in behind Eddie and sandwiches him between his partners, hands moving around their waists and pulling them back against him. “Plus, I wasn’t really gonna kick any of their asses. Unless you wanted me to.”
The last part is murmured softly into Eddie’s ear, and he gets goosebumps.
“Got the job done,” Eddie sighs. “I feel like I just came out for the first time again.”
“Give it a couple weeks, they’ll wanna come back again when they’ve had time to think about the stuff you said,” Steve reassures.
“Maybe if we put Billy down for a nap before they come over.”
“Hey, I’m so nice until you upset one of my boys. Then I turn into Queen Bitch, and I go for the throat,” Billy huffs. Sets his chin in the crook of Eddie’s neck and pouts. “Also, fuck you, I’m funny.”
The brunet hums at that and tilts their heads together.
“And I’m not a prep. If anything, it’d be me and you against him.”
Steve scoffs, and Eddie snickers.
“Hey, it’s us against the world, alright? Me and my lovers,” Eddie lilts.
He pinches softly at Steve’s sides, causing the other brunet to squirm away and pry himself free. Steve shakes his head amusedly and sits down on the sofa, grabbing one of the movies from the little stack and examining it.
Eddie leans further against Billy and smiles when big arms encase him.
“‘M sorry your movie night was a bust,” Billy murmurs.
“We can still watch something if you want,” Steve offers.
Big brown eyes gaze up at him, and Eddie chews his lip. Doesn’t push down the butterflies that start to swirl around in his tummy.
“Take your pic, princess.”
