Scarlet - Over 21- she/her - pansexual with a few kinks here and there - artsy poet- metalhead and hopeless romantic- LOTR, Vampire Films, Stranger Things- Eddie Munson Is Alive believer- Minors DNI! 18+ only or you shall be turned over to Sauron to be taken to Mordor!
(Small update for ‘26 - this account isn’t very active. I remain undecided what I will do with it but I do enjoy everyone’s Eddie fiction so may keep it to read by… time will tell… )
Some basics for you about Scarlet ( to hopefully save some time though a lot is above)
My name is Scarlet or Scar to some for short. I am over 21- a Leo- pronouns are she/her (and sometimes the Royal “We” if I feel a little bratty). Simply put, I am just a pansexual metalhead woman with a few kinks, a few tats here and there, and a piercing or 3, that will sometimes carry a D20 for luck and always embraces my beautifully weird self and doesn’t mind flying her nerdy freak flag proudly. It’s what makes me me after all. Oh and I also communicate at times with music- it speaks sometimes when mere words fail. …and yes ADHD is also a factor so sometimes I babble a bit, working on correcting that, personally I think it helps me with my artistic endeavors, the ADHD not the talking a lot.
IMPORTANT! Absolutely NO MINORS ALLOWED! 18+ ONLY - I will block little shits or send them to Mordor depending on the mood I am in. I am not a babysitter- my last name is NOT Harrington.
If you send an ANON ask with no age attached to it I probably won’t answer you just so you know.
Oh and if you follow me and have zero posts and info? Yah- consider yourself blocked. Save us both time, k? Thanks. (Stupid fucking bots)
This was predominantly a ST/EM RP blog so while I may reblog posts and follow some people cuz I like their writing and yah there are quite a few and they are fucking awesome, I will at times post various things in that sort of RP vein…. I am open to RP depending… So, If there is an Eddie RP person out there looking for your perfect princess, here I am! 😉
In reality, quite honestly, I don’t debate about all the “ship” BS- I absolutely adore Eddie Munson in ALL his glory. There is a reason he struck a chord with so many, and why his fan base is a devoted one. I am here to have fun, relax and celebrate the fanfics, imagines and art that has been done for my favorite show since 2016 and my very favorite character from said show that seemingly was always in the background, but we never got to meet til May 2022. Just watch ST seasons 1-3 and you will see his younger self floating by in the background. I swear it’s him… the curls, dark eyes and denim give him away… I am hoping he makes an appearance in S5 cuz no, I don’t believe he is really dead.
I or my admin will add more or revamp this as I go. The Admin who lends a hand is in her late 20’s and if she ever posts anything it will be in // at the front and simply will be referred to as “CrimsonAdmin”. I don’t have time to continuously block bots, she lends a hand… she may answer questions too, but questions to her please use the // -ok?
And feel free to ask questions- but make sure you aren’t afraid of the answers! Ha ha! And again, if you ask ANON with no age, I probably won’t answer as this really is an adults only space, k?
Lastly, Please Remember….
This is Munson’s world- seriously, it is- we simply live in it…. (He’ll get humble about it, on his behalf I won’t tho… “it’s just the facts “ as Erica would say..)
Now then, Thanks for reading all this drivel babble stuff that is kinda important… now please- Carry on…
This is a story about family, pain, grief, love, and home. It’s a story about music. It’s a story about Eddie Munson, and you, and all the ways things can go wrong and right. A sometimes-fun and sometimes-heartbreaking record store AU.
This chapter 8724 words
This is a story about pain.
It was excruciating. All the different types of pain rolled into one unbearable experience. The agony of being completely in love with Eddie.
It hurt your ego that you were a walking cliché. A girl with a crush on the cool guy who owned a record store across the road. It hurt to know all the things you’d called love before - weren’t. It hurt to see him every day, to feel the warmth in his hugs, hear the sound of his voice telling a stupid story that would have you absolutely enamoured. Everything hurt.
What was obvious to Robin within seconds of Eddie meeting you became obvious to everyone else almost as quickly. And, it wasn’t as though you didn’t notice the things they did. How he suddenly bought coffee every day you were working. How everyone else got the full Munson attitude, but you did not. Your music taste was never criticised. He’d hold you a little longer than anyone else when everyone hugged goodbye. The softness in his gaze. Yeah, you had the evidence in front of you.
It didn’t compute. Like speaking a language with perfect pronunciation, but not understanding a word.
If Eddie liked you in the way everyone said he did, then why were the days and weeks going by so fast without a date proposal or admission of love? The closest you’d gotten to anything other than friendship was the time Jonathan’s car got a flat tire on the way home from picking Nancy, Robin, and you up from a night out. Eddie came to help, and you responded with a drunken embrace and almost passed out in his arms. He’d have let you; he would have held you all night if Nancy didn’t politely put you in the backseat.
For Eddie’s part, he knew he was being stubborn. There was a voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Wayne. It affirmed to him that how he felt wasn’t like all the times before. It could be different. It would be different. The terror though, was paralysing.
It was an aching sort of freeze that took over him. Emotional frostbite. Eddie felt like he had used up all his reliability on Raconteur. He looked after the staff and the business and the growing community surrounding the store. Would he even have time left to be a good boyfriend? Could he protect your gentleness from the harsh reality of the world? It hurt when he let himself fantasise about it. It hurt when he tried to suppress it all. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt.
…
“You don’t seem excited,” Eddie observed. He was sitting on an upside-down milk crate out the front of Coffee Clash, smoking a cigarette.
Taking your sweet time cleaning the espresso machine and closing up, you could feel Eddie watching your every move.
This was all routine. Eddie often wandered over to ‘help’ you close in the mid-afternoon sunlight. He often tuned in the radio on the shelf above you to something better, whined about Informer by Snow being popular and what that meant for society as a whole, then took a seat. Often considered it the best part of his day.
“Steve’s parties are kind of legendary,” he offered.
At the end of every April, Steve threw himself a birthday party. This would be your first party with the entire Raconteur/Coffee Clash family; you’d been to after work beers and a few gigs, but nothing as anticipated as Steve’s party. You went to the cinema with Robin a lot, and to museum exhibitions with Nancy. Movie marathons with them both, tucked up on the couch. But nothing like a Steve Harrington Birthday Party.
You looked over at him. “Legendary? Like… What happens at them specifically?”
Eddie frowned. “Specifically? Normal… party stuff, I guess? What do you mean?”
“Like, what are some of the… activities? Like, is there gonna be a keg… Should I eat before or is there gonna be food… Or like… anything else?”
Eddie put his smoke out in the paper coffee cup you’d given him upon arrival, then stood up, leaning across the small counter.
“If you tell me what information you’re fishing for, specifically, I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know,”
“I’m not- I just want to be prepared.”
Eddie didn’t believe you. He shook his head. “Right…” He looked you up and down, making your stomach flip in response. “Something’s wrong.”
You could see Eddie trying to guess. You could see him trying to find a solution to an unknown problem. “Do you know who’s going?” you asked, continuing your fishing expedition.
“Uh, just like, a hundred people… plus the… usual suspects,”
“Okay, so like, Rob and Steve, and you, and Nancy,”
“Yep. And Jon. Max and Will have been bitching non-stop about it,”
“Why can’t they come?” you asked. Max, Raconteur’s resident skater girl, was quick to befriend Joyce’s youngest son, Will. The teens stuck together.
“Because Nancy’s making some fancy cocktails or something… And Argyle’s making some brownies, so… Not exactly kid-friendly,” Eddie grinned, briefly remembering himself as a teenager, almost setting fire to the stove when trying to make THC-infused butter.
There it was. Argyle, the friendly neighbourhood baked goods and weed dealer. Initially, it was just the baked goods. He was the supplier of the croissants, danishes, and bagels Joyce ordered for Coffee Clash. Once he got to know everyone on the street, he looped them in on his side hustle.
You nodded at Eddie and started to cash up the register.
Eddie frowned. “No more questions?”
“Like I said. Wasn’t fishing.”
He tried to figure out what was important in the information he’d shared. Whatever it was, it wasn’t obvious to him.
Eddie pulled the shutters down when you’d run out of things to clean and count, and waited for you to lock the shop up. “Are you okay?” he asked, sincerity oozing from his tone.
You nodded, smiled, and broke his heart a little. He nodded back and pulled you into a hug.
“If something’s… up… or whatever, you can tell me,”
“I know. I’m fine. Promise.”
When you stepped back from him, Eddie was staring.
“Stop looking at me like that,” you pouted, turning to leave.
“Stop being so pretty!” he yelled after you. “Get home safe!”
All night, you tossed and turned. Eventually, when it felt more like the next day than the night, you got up and killed time by listening to a stack of records you still hadn’t gotten around to. Vinyl on loan to you from Raconteur, care of both Robin and Eddie.
Using those loans as a thinly veiled excuse to see Eddie, the next day you returned them to Jonathan at the counter and went through to the office, ignoring Jonathan’s muttering about it being a record store, not a record library.
“Hey… You didn’t have work today, did you?” Eddie asked, looking up from the paperwork piled in front of him. “Not that I, you know, I was just… Nance was there today. So…”
Normally, Eddie’s flustered rambling would put you into a state of equal fluster. The anxiety was gnawing at you though, stopping any emotion with a slight hint of whimsy within. He saw that on your face.
“What’s going on? Come in.” Eddie ushered you into the room, closing the door and sitting with you on the couch he’d spent too much time sleeping on before he moved into his own place.
Eddie had been forced to move out of the apartment he’d shared with the daytime college student, nighttime bartender at the end of 1991; the guy claimed that the best debut album of that year was Music for the People by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch. Meshuggah, Kyuss, Hole, Mr. Bungle, and Pearl Jam all released their first records, and the guy sincerely believed Good Vibrations was better track than Black.
He could afford to get a place alone, which felt like an insane luxury. The only thing he missed about Little Italy was the old man at the bus stop. It didn’t matter what day it was, nor the weather, there was always the same man sitting at the stop outside Eddie’s building. He was always there at 8 am sharp, always holding an apple and cutting chunks off with a dull knife.
Eddie started to drive his van to work less just so he could sit next to the man. Sometimes they tried to hold a conversation, but Eddie did not speak Italian, and the man seemed content in being misunderstood. He didn’t care if Eddie didn’t understand. Their shared language was the slice or two of apple he’d offer Eddie each time he sat down.
“It’s stupid,”
“Most things are,” Eddie said.
It made you smile, if only a little bit. “I kind of… lied… about something. And it’s… snowballed… a bit… And this party… It’s gonna be pretty obvious that, you know, I lied…” Your sentence trailed off into mumbled oblivion.
Eddie wondered what you could have lied about. Had you lied to him? Maybe he was about to be put out of his heartsick misery and have you tumble down from the pedestal you were on.
“Um, okay… Just avoid the Never Have I Ever games?”
A look of sheer panic flashed across your face. “Wait… Does that- You guys play that?”
“No! No, sorry!” Eddie grabbed your hands. “Of course not. We’re, like, adults… So, no. Nope.” You still looked like you were going to throw up. “Do you secretly hate Steve?”
“What? No. Nobody secretly hates Steve,”
“You’re right. Most people are pretty open about it,” Eddie smirked. “Uhhh, is it like, a Gremlins thing?”
“I can’t get wet? Is there going to be a pool?”
“Yeah, the house has a pool. But I was thinking more of the midnight rule. Like, does something happen if you’re out past midnight… Never mind. I think you’re just going to have to tell me.”
Eddie waited for you to speak again. You couldn’t force it out yet. Instead, you listened to the music playing in the room. “Are you listening to The Cranberries?”
The person fallin' here is me.
A different way to be.
“Uh… So? Don’t try to change the subject! Trying to distract me from the huge secret you came here to confess,” Eddie said.
“Is your huge secret that you love women-fronted political Irish rock bands?”
“I own a record store. I have to know my product!” he argued, his voice sounding very shrill for someone meant to be comfortable in their convictions.
After stifling a giggle, you promised to keep his secret.
“And I’ll keep yours. If you tell me,” Eddie promised back. He wasn’t going to let you drop it. He was unsure if he was motivated by a want to help you, a want to know everything about you, or a want to know things other people didn’t. Likely, a combination of all three.
“It’s embarrassing,” you said with a sigh.
“I would wager that it is not more embarrassing than the fact that Will has never once answered a Who Sung the Original correctly.”
If a cover was heard, you could be sure Eddie would start dishing out pop quizzes to whoever was around. Didn’t know I Will Always Love You was a Dolly Parton song? Foolish. Thought Tainted Love was a Soft Cell classic? Get absolutely fucked.
You had never been on the receiving end of Eddie’s insufferable Who Sung the Original game. Which was too bad, because of course, you had been studying. You’d be Eddie’s honour student.
“Eddie, he’s just a kid. Give him a break,”
“Nope. What about when Steve said, ‘Oh, this Morrissey guy sounds like The Smiths.’ That was embarrassing,”
“To be fair, I wish I didn’t know anything about Morrissey either,” you said.
Eddie smiled, but reigned it in quickly. “Point is… Whatever it is, it’s alright. We can fix it. Just lay it on me.”
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
“So… When I started at the coffee shop, I obviously spent a lot of time with Nancy. Then I met Jonathan and he’s like… painfully cool. And I know he kind of works on that, but also he’s just… cool. And then I met Robin and Steve. And they’re all so, I don’t know. Cool.”
Eddie nodded along, though deeply confused. He loved each member of your cool list with all his heart, but he did not consider them to be cool. Robin and Jonathan… maybe… sometimes.
“And then I met Argyle-”
Eddie agreed on that one.
“-and… I don’t know. I think I was so quiet at the start because I was in awe of them and this little family you all have. And I think they mistook that quietness for being like them, being cool, and I’m not. Like, at all. And so when we started to hang out and stuff, I just let them believe stuff about me. And then I might have… lied… about stuff… so they’d think I’m cool… And now I’m freaking out.”
Eddie had to clench his jaw to stop himself from smiling. You were so stressed but you were so goddamn endearing.
“So… What did you tell them?” And did you tell it to me too?
You could feel the heat in your cheeks. “They may or may not think that I have definitely smoked weed before. Multiple times.”
He couldn’t catch it in time. Eddie’s face nearly split in half with a huge shit-eating grin.
“Eddie!” you squealed, standing up.
He followed you, grabbing you before you could move and holding you in a hug. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay! It’s just… a little funny,”
“No, it’s fucking not. It’s embarrassing! And stupid! I don’t know why I said it!”
“Look, we’ve all said dumb shit. But honestly, none of them are gonna care. They’ll think it’s… I don’t know… cute… and they’ll be so up their own asses that you thought they were cool enough you needed to do it.”
You pushed away from Eddie and flopped back down on the couch. “I don’t want to be cute. I don’t want to be…”
“Babychino?” The look on your face told Eddie he was spot on. “I’ve had worse nicknames. A lot worse,” he said, sitting back down with you.
“I know… But if I tell them the truth now, it will be a thing. It will turn into a joke and won’t ever go away.”
Eddie knew you weren’t wrong. They’d never let you live it down. He would, but you’d not told the lie to him. And you were still sitting like a queen on that pedestal.
“I can’t fake it either. I’ll either cough my lungs up smoking a joint for the first time or lose my shit on an edible… I think I’m just gonna say that like, I quit or something. They’ll believe that, right? I can say it messes with my head, so I’ll stick to… like… Nancy’s cocktails or whatever…”
Eddie was aggressively playing with the ring on his left thumb, spinning it around and around. You could see the tension in his jaw, see him holding in whatever reaction he was having.
“Don’t laugh at me,” but your voice came out smaller and sadder than you intended.
“No, hey, look.” Eddie moved fast, shuffling closer to you and putting his hands on your shoulders. “I’m not laughing at you… Anymore… I swear… Have you… abstained on purpose?” He let you go but it still looked like he was going to laugh.
“No,”
“So, you just haven’t walked into the right room at the right party?”
“Um… I guess?”
“Alright, well, there’s a super simple solution that doesn’t involve, you know, more lying.”
He was looking at you with such intensity that it was like he was testing you. Could you guess? Would you make this suggestion too? All you could do was shake your head and shrug.
He watched you for a few more beats, then smiled, the intensity dissipating. “Practice makes perfect, sweetheart,” was all he said before standing.
“What?”
You followed Eddie through the store to where he asked Jonathan if he wanted to finish his shift early. “It’s dead anyway. I’ll pay you through to the end.”
Jonathan looked confused but quickly collected his backpack and camera, leaving without questioning the free money. Eddie locked the store’s door and pulled down the blinds.
“I don’t think it’s this urgent,” you said, trailing behind Eddie again.
“Life rarely gifts us solutions to our problems,”
“Why are you talking like that?”
“We must not offend dear Life by squandering such opportunities,”
“Seriously… Are you, like, quoting a film?”
Without answering, Eddie started pulling things from his desk drawer. You sat on the couch and watched him set up.
“You’re so organised,” you mused. It was a surprisingly streamlined process. Select. Grind. Pack. Ready.
“Like I said, practice makes perfect… You want me to talk you through this?” He looked up briefly, enough to see you nod. His dark eyes were calm. This was nothing. You would be fine.
The happy-sad sound of Linger spun from the record as Eddie joined you. “So, the good news is every smoker has their preferences, and if anyone asks, yours is absolutely not a bong. Unless you’ve already told them…”
“No, I’ve been vague,”
“‘Kay, cool. So, a blunt is all well and good. Maybe a better starting point, but we’re on a bit of a time crunch, and Robin and Nancy both prefer a pipe, so,”
“I kinda love that Nancy smokes. When Robin first told me, I didn’t believe her,”
“Yeah. She’s way less strait-laced than everyone expects. Me included… Alright, so, I’ll do it for you the first time. Mouth goes here. I’ll cover this hole, light up, smoke builds in this part, then as I let go, you inhale. Make sense?”
“Yep… Are you gonna, um, do it too?”
“Uhh… Do you want me to?” he asked. You nodded. “Then yes. Alright, here we go.”
It burnt and you coughed and no drink helped. You tried again. Eddie was patient, gentle, and tried not to laugh at you too much.
You weren’t sure you were feeling it until suddenly Eddie was putting Everyone Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? back in its sleeve and swapping to a cassette. He looked tiny. You slowly raised a hand to try to measure him against it.
“Eddie… You’re… small…”
He snorted and sat on the floor in front of you, looking up from under the canopy of his lashes. “Am I?”
“Ahhh-huhh…”
All your limbs felt heavy. Eyelids heavy. Not asleep. Not awake. Warm. Itchy without the itch. Fizzy. Sparkly. Bubbly. No. Not bubbly. Static. Soft static. Noise. Music. Singing.
I feel unhappy, I feel so sad.
I've lost the best friend that I ever had.
She was my woman, I loved her so.
But it's too late now, I've let her go.
I'm going through changes.
I'm going through changes.
“Eddie?”
No, not Eddie… But… No, Ozzy. No, definitely Eddie. Eddie singing.
We shared the years, we shared each day.
In love, together, we found the way.
But soon, the world had its evil way.
My heart was blinded, love went astray.
I'm going through changes.
I'm going through changes.
Giggling, you opened your eyes and found that Eddie had starfished out and was singing to the ceiling. He looked over at you when he felt you watching.
“How ya feelin’?”
“Good,”
“Not spinning out?”
“Wha’s that feel like?”
“Bad. Panic,”
“Nope,” you confirmed.
“Cool…” He kept singing. “I’m going through changes.”
Side A flipped to Side B, and when that ended, the room fell into a comfortable silence. Slowly but surely, you felt control slip back into your body, and your stomach gurgled with hunger.
“Can we get food?” you asked.
Eddie laughed, agreed, and stood up, collecting his jacket and bag. “Couple more practice sessions in, and they’ll be none the wiser,” he told you on your way out of Raconteur.
As he helped you up into the front seat of his van, Eddie paused, “Can I ask just one thing?”
“Mmm-hmm,”
“Have you ever lied to me? Like, like this?”
He watched your smile morph into something confused. “No. I’d never lie to you.”
…
“Jurassic Park?”
“Rob’s already seen it,”
“The Dark Half,”
“Eddie will kill us if we see it without him,”
“Okay, well every other film breaks either your ‘no sad animals’ or ‘no guy holding a gun’ rules,” Nancy reported, looking over the screening times in the newspaper. There were not a lot of May releases that suited all three of you. “Except for maybe Dave…”
“Let me see… No, I don’t like the look of him either,” you told her. “Can’t we just rent a tape?”
“No, because that’s code for renting Dracula for the twentieth time this year,”
“But you could get Far and Away…”
You were awaiting Nancy’s reply when Eddie’s van pulled up outside Raconteur. From the coffee shop, you both watched him pull a box onto his lap, then get out, moving awkwardly and with all the grace of a baby giraffe.
“Hello, ladies,”
“Gross,” you immediately replied.
“How’d it go?” Nancy asked.
“Good! Yeah, good. Think the dates will work,” Eddie replied. He was a smarter businessman than people gave him credit for; he never counted his chickens before they hatched. Whatever meeting he had just driven all the way across town for, he’d not call it a success until it had all played out.
Nancy nodded, turning to serve a customer.
“When you finish, sweetheart.” Babychino was a good nickname, but you were everyone’s Babychino. You were only his sweetheart. “Come see me? I got something for you,” Eddie yelled across the street as he went into his store.
An hour of ignoring Nancy’s wink-wink nudge-nudges later, you clocked out and walked through the doors of Raconteur. The bells chimed and Max looked up from the counter.
“Ohhhhh, okay. Yeah,” she greeted, if that could be considered one.
“Um. Hi?”
“I wondered why he was in such a good mood,”
“The meeting with the city permit police or whatever went well,” you argued, brushing off her implication.
“Riiiiight,”
“I’m going to ignore you now,”
“Okayyyyyyyyy.”
Eddie wasn’t in his office when you peeked your head in. Instead, you found him in the break room, sitting at the table. He was eating a chocolate muffin the size of a human heart.
“Wow,” you laughed, pulling up the chair next to his.
“You were right,”
“What about? Also, don’t talk with your mouth full,”
“Sorry,” he replied, making sure to open his mouth on the e-sound. He chewed and swallowed, reaching for his glass of water. “About that bakery with the raccoon logo,”
“Bake Bakery?!”
“Yeah. Dumbest name, but holy shit. This is the best thing I have ever eaten,”
“You went?”
“Yeah, it’s near the city council offices. Thought I’d kill two birds. And this-” He reached across the table and pulled a brown paper bag across to you. “-is for you,”
“No! It’s not!” Ripping the bag apart, the telltale green of the croissant pastry confirmed your hopeful suspicions. “Oh my god!” you squealed.
Pandan was not an easy flavour to find in 1993 Chicago. The only place you knew that used it was Bake Bakery, a small bakery tucked away in a part of the city you hardly went to. They appeared often on the city’s best bakeries list, but on the few times you’d been there, they’d been sold out of your long-lusted-for pandan croissant.
“Figured you could take it home and have- orrrrrr shove it into your face right now,” Eddie laughed.
You’d ripped the croissant in half, green goo exploding out of it and dripping onto the paper bag. Eddie couldn’t finish his sentence before you’d already started on it.
It didn’t matter what you looked like, your eyes were closed and you were entirely blissed out.
“This is… oh my god…”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Eddie parroted at you.
All you could do was grin. “You have to try this,”
“Uh, no thanks,”
“Eddie,”
“As you can see, I am more of a chocolate muffin man,”
“No, you have to,” and you ripped a bite-sized piece of pastry off and swiped it through the filling. You held it out to Eddie to take, not factoring in that it was Eddie Munson you were with, not a normal human.
One of Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and he ducked his head down so his mouth was at your hand. He looked up at you, then ate the piece you’d offered, his lips brushing against your fingers.
While your brain tried to process, Eddie was a step ahead.
“Right again. That’s ahhhhhmazing.” He opened his mouth and you obeyed, feeding him another piece. “Pandan, huh?” Eddie took your hand, held it to his lips, and looked you dead in the eyes. Then, he licked the pastry crumbs and gooey filling from your fingertips. All you could do was watch.
When he dropped your hand, you didn’t know what to do. Your thoughts were hot static, so you turned to the rest of the croissant and ate it.
Eddie seemed relaxed next to you as he finished his chocolate muffin.
Neither of you said anything. Not until you’d crumpled the paper bag up and nodded to yourself, mentally ticking off an item of your food bucket list.
“You got some here,” Eddie said, his voice quieter than usual. You looked to him and froze, his hand reaching out, fingers grazing the side of your face and thumb rubbing a drop of green from the corner of your mouth. Eddie sucked the filling from his thumb, not breaking eye contact.
It was only then that you realised how far away the music sounded. You were used to the loud shop floor or the carefully curated selection in Eddie’s office. The break room was a respite from noise. Your mind was unable to identify whatever Max had playing, all the energy fizzing up like Eddie was dropping Mentos into your Coca-Cola brain matter.
Eddie’s eyes were as dark as you’d ever seen them, only a touch of gold reflecting the dull ceiling light. Slowly but with confidence, he took one of your hands in his, fingers threading together.
He leaned in closer to you. You could feel the warmth of his breath, leaning in.
Everything was still and sticky and suffocating, and you’d never felt more alive.
Then,
“OH SHIT! SORRY! FUCK. SORRY!” Max yelped, leaving the doorway fast.
You sprang apart so fast it could have given you whiplash. Eddie covered his face with his hands, shook his head, then gritted his teeth.
“I’m-” he went to say as you said,
“I’ve-”
You both stopped, then started again, talking over each other.
“I’ve got to go!” you finally yelled.
Eddie stopped, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “Are we… are you okay?”
“Yep. Yes. I’ve just gotta catch the bus. Don’t want to miss it. Um. Thank you for the croissant… and I’ll… see you around,”
“Wait. Can we-”
But you were gone.
The next time you saw Eddie, you pretended that nothing had happened. Max hadn’t sold you out to the others. And, suffering his own internal anxiety monster, Eddie followed your lead.
You had been so close to getting what you wanted. What you’d rhapsodised and daydreamed about since meeting Eddie. Yet, given the thing you desired, you’d freaked out.
Maybe it was the fear of what came after. What if the anticipation was the good part? What if it all fell apart somehow?
It was by no means easier to pretend nothing had happened, that you hadn’t felt a monumental shift in emotion and intention. Of course, it was torture. But nobody has a higher threshold for pain than a small town freak and a girl with a vivid imagination.
…
“Do you have a funeral song?”
“Jeez, little morbid.”
You shrugged. “I bet you do. And I bet it’s something ridiculous,”
“Me? Ridiculous?!” Eddie whispered dramatically. “I’ve never said or done anything ridiculous in my life,”
“Oh, sure. Yeah,”
“Alright. Guess then. If you’ve got me all figured out.”
The waiting area of the DMV felt like limbo, even with Eddie as company. The aircon was having a hard time battling the July heat, and an old radio crackled from the corner. When it played songs, it seemed to get quieter, but the advertisements were loud. Not exempt was the one just played, a funeral home, the cheapest in Chicago.
“Another One Bites the Dust… or Stayin’ Alive,”
“Yeah, ‘cause I’m a real Bee Gees kind of guy,”
“Highway to Hell then,”
“Nope. It’s actually Roll Me Up & Smoke Me When I Die,”
“Really?”
“No. Come on, sweetheart,”
“So, you honestly don’t have one?”
“I do, but you’re way off,”
“Not gonna go out on a bit?”
“Nah. Been the joke enough in my life. Might try to, you know, die with some dignity.”
When you looked over at Eddie, he was purposefully looking away. Though you saw his vulnerable side more than most, it still sometimes caught you off guard.
“The Killing Moon by Echo & the Bunnymen,” you told him. “That’s mine.”
Eddie nodded slowly. “That’s a good pick. Suits you,”
“Thanks.”
Eddie glanced around at the other people waiting to renew their license or complain about something the city probably didn’t care about. He hated places like that, but he knew the feeling was mutual; he’d offered to come with you. Ever since the Bake Bakery incident, Eddie had been offering to do a lot for you.
“Mine is The Wind Cries Mary. I stole it from Wayne. Figured he won’t mind, since he’ll be gone before me… I mean, hopefully… I mean, not like, hopefully-”
“I get it. I get what you mean. And, it’s also a good choice. If Hendrix is ever the wrong choice, I don’t want to know context.”
Someone else’s number got called, and you watched her stand and walk to one of the counters. Her empty seat was immediately taken by someone leaning against a wall. Too many people in line, not enough chairs. Behind you, someone coughed and apologised. A fly crawled along the dirty beige wall.
You looked up at the clock, wondering if it was broken or if you checked it only seconds earlier.
Besides the uneasy feeling that always came over you in a liminal space like the DMV, you felt additionally unsettled there. Unsettled in places like it. Places so mundane. Places that held a mirror up to society. Slow, sad, institutionalised society.
“Eddie, do me a favour?”
“Mmm,”
“Let me die first. I don’t want to go to your funeral.”
Eddie knocked his shoulder against yours. “DMV really does bum you out, huh?”
“Eddie,”
“Yeah, I’m not making that promise. Munson men tend to die young. And I don’t particularly love the idea of burying you either,”
“Guess neither of us can die then,”
“Guess not,” Eddie agreed, smirking.
He tried not to watch you too closely. Like how he tried not to catastrophise about the near-kiss. Tried to keep convincing himself he wasn’t capable of being boyfriend material. Tried to stop from asking to keep your old driver’s license.
…
It was a warm September day when you found Eddie and Jonathan out the back of Raconteur, hiding in the shade of the building. They were sitting in plastic deck chairs looking out on the staff car park shared by a few businesses on the street.
“Shhhh,” Jonathan warned when you approached. “Don’t scare her.”
When you were close enough, you could see a ginger cat by the dumpsters. Their feline gaze was set firmly on Eddie. The cat meowed.
Eddie had one of his acoustic guitars in his lap, and he played an echo of the cat’s call. You couldn’t tell if it was the same note, but it definitely sounded similar.
Another prolonged meow.
Another echoing guitar note.
Eddie and Jonathan were holding in laughter.
The cat looked at you then, almost as if for explanation. “I don’t know,” you told them.
“She likes it,” Jonathan claimed.
“You know she’s probably a boy though. 80% of ginger cats are,”
“I think she’s a girl,” Eddie said, copying the cat’s sound again.
“She does look unimpressed and bored… which is very girly of her,” you agreed.
From the record store’s back door, Will yelled, “Jonathan, Mom wants to know if you and Nancy are coming for dinner on Sunday!”
The ginger cat skittered away as Jonathan groaned and got up. You watched him go inside, then took his seat next to Eddie.
“How long have you been feeding the cat?” you asked, looking at him.
Eddie tried, but he couldn’t keep his face set naturally. A smile twitched on his lips. “Since she was a kitten. How’d you know I’m feeding her?”
“Because that is a well-fed cat,” you answered, spying the ginger as she emerged from under the dumpster. “And she was talking to you just then,”
“She likes the guitar game,”
“She plays the guitar game to get the food. She’s playing you,”
“Yeah… But I let her,” Eddie grinned.
“Metalhead with a heart of gold,”
“That’s my schtick.”
After a few minutes of quiet companionship, you noticed the boom box sitting by the back door. “Is that playing a CD?” you asked, scandalised.
“Robin and Steve have been pitching hard,”
“They’re probably right, you know,”
“Oh, I know. Robin has-” Eddie paused, sighed for dramatic effect, “shown me the data. CDs have outsold tapes and vinyls for a couple years now,”
“But you’re not into it?”
Eddie shrugged.
You looked back over at the boom box. CDs were a lot easier to use day-to-day compared to vinyl. No flipping the record. No dust on the needle. And, the sound was a hell of a lot clearer than cassette. Trends come and go, you thought.
I used to be a little boy.
So old in my shoes.
And what I choose is my choice.
What's a boy supposed to do?
Siamese Dream was still on high rotation for you, months after its release. Eddie had said that though lyrically and vocally Billy Corgan had a lot going for him, overall, their sound was “a bit thin.” And yet, unmistakably, the fuzzy guitars played.
“Wait, are you listening to The Smashing Pumpkins? You told me this album was, and I quote, mediocre.”
Eddie looked over at the boom box, then to you. “Guess you were right.” Eddie rarely admitted when he was wrong, so you took the win.
“Does that mean you’ll-”
“No,”
“But if I was right about them, then-”
“Barking up the wrong tree.”
You pouted. The mission to convince Eddie of My Bloody Valentine’s worth would have to wait.
Disarm finished and Soma began.
Nothing left to say.
And all I've left to do,
Is run away,
From you.
“I used to feed the feral cats that lived out the back of our trailer. There was this baby raccoon that showed up one day. It was like the cats just accepted him as one of them. He would eat, like, three times the amount they did though,”
“What’d your uncle say about that?”
“About feeding strays? He couldn’t say shit. He fed me,”
“Eddie,”
“I know, I know… See, this is why I don’t like depressing records like this. Makes me feel weird,” he said, standing up and literally shaking his arms out, like it could rid him of the introspection inspired by The Smashing Pumpkins.
You laughed. “I’m just saying, from everything you’ve told me about your uncle, I don’t think he sees raising you like feeding a feral raccoon,”
“You’re right. I’m a lot more like the cats,”
“Eddie!”
He grinned, then held a hand out to you. “Come on. There’s another Stephen King movie playing over at that shitty cinema on the corner.”
Eddie pulled you up, and you followed him into Raconteur.
“I hate it there. The guy in the ticket booth is creepy,”
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he replied, voice dipping into one of his fantastical characters.
Nobody stopped the CD from spinning, and the album played out in full before Will brought the boombox in when he closed.
I’ll hear your song.
If you want me to.
I’ll sing along.
And it’s a chance I’ll have to take.
And it’s a chance I’ll have to break.
I’m in love with you.
I’m in love with you.
I’m in love with you, oh.
I’m in love with you, so in love.
…
In the second week of October, you were still listening to Nirvana’s In Utero on repeat. It had been released on September 21st, but it occupied a space in your head and heart that nothing else came close to. Bad Religion, Iggy Pop, Fight, and Paradise Lost had all put out new stuff too, but they barely registered on your radar. The only brief interlude was a few spins of The Cure’s live record Show.
When Eddie leaned on the counter of Coffee Clash and told you he had something he thought you’d like, you were sceptical.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said. “It’s better than Nirvana,”
“Excuse you?!”
“Now, I love sticking it to the man as much as the next guy, but the lyrics? There’s a lot to be desired. And, the mixing on In Utero is shit-”
“Eddie!” Nancy interrupted from where she was steaming milk and pouring it expertly into takeaway cups. “Starting a fight with her about Kurt may not be the best way to get her to agree to hear you out. Also, Steve was here the other day begging us to go and listen to this new band he found. Said it was going to change our lives, and it turned out to be a stupid joke,”
“Was it Anal Cunt?” Eddie guessed.
“Who names their band that!”
“I kind of like it,” you offered with a shrug.
Eddie grinned. He’d taken the tray of coffees from Nancy and started to walk away. “Of course you do. Seriously though. I’ll see you on your break, yeah?”
You just shrugged again.
“You’re killing me!” Eddie yelled, more than halfway across the street.
He disappeared inside Raconteur, and you waited until the fuzzy feeling completely dissolved from your body before you turned to face Nancy. When you did, she was giving you one of her signature looks.
“Shut up,”
“I didn’t say anything,”
“Your face says a lot, Wheeler.”
Eddie was in his office when you went over. Robin was working out front with Max. “Helllooooo Babychinooooo. I’m starting the reservation list for Bikini Kill. Meant to be here near the end of the month. I’ll put you on the list?”
“Yeah. Thanks,”
“No problemo. Also, if it makes you feel any better, Steve’s done the Anal Cunt thing to a bunch more people since you guys,”
“He’s got to get a new hobby,”
“You’re telling me.”
No matter how many times you’d gone behind the counter of the record store and walked down the hallway, your heart always started to race. When you stood at the threshold of Eddie’s office, rapping your knuckles against the doorframe, your mouth always went dry.
Eddie looked up and smiled. He motioned for you to come as he jumped up and pulled fresh vinyl from a sleeve, flipping it onto his player. You wheeled his office chair over, knowing the drill. First plays should always be heard on a good record player and through good headphones.
“This definitely isn’t my type of music, but Robin played it yesterday and…” And what? And I thought of you. And I am constantly compiling lists of songs that remind me of you. Songs I pretend we dance to. Songs I pretend I’ve written for you. Songs I’d learn the chords to. “Uh, yeah. I don’t know. Thought you’d like it.”
Goosebumps rose along your arms as Eddie crashed down into the old office couch. The crackling sound came through the headphones. Eddie always watched you intently, but it got worse when he put a record on for you.
I wanna hold the hand inside you.
I wanna take the breath that’s true.
Immediately, you were spellbound. Eddie could see it too. Your eyes welled up and your lips parted. Your breath got caught somewhere in the back of your throat.
I look to you and I see nothing.
I look to you to see the truth.
It was just simple rock and roll. A girl and some guitar. Tamborine and drums. Eddie was right; it wasn’t what he listened to at all. He didn’t appear immune to its effects though.
You live your life, you go in shadows.
You’ll come apart and you’ll go blind.
Some kind of night into your darkness,
Colors your eyes with what’s not there.
You could feel his eyes on you. You desperately wanted to be seen by him, but you didn’t let yourself think about how music was Eddie’s native tongue. He saw you in the songs he shared, and he wanted your confirmation that what he saw was true.
Fade into you.
Strange you never knew.
Fade into you.
I think it’s strange you never knew.
There was a guitar break and you shut your eyes and pictured Raconteur closed for the night. You’d be sitting on the counter, legs crossed, watching Eddie pull his acoustic guitar out. He’d strum the notes learnt by ear.
A stranger’s light comes on slowly.
A stranger’s heart without a home.
You put your hands into your head,
And then its smiles cover your heart.
Sometimes it made him feel like a god. Giving someone the gift of music. Standing at the gate of experiences like that. Eddie had to reel himself in. Put his feet back on the ground.
Fade into you.
Strange you never knew.
Fade into you.
I think it’s strange you never knew.
I think it’s strange you never knew…
Neither of you made eye contact. It would hurt too much, and everything already hurt enough.
…
“Who brings kids to a bar on a Friday night?!” Steve yelled over the music. He’d just had his game of pool ruined by two children wearing heavy-duty earmuffs.
“Probably family of one of the bands,” Eddie guessed.
The kids had no hesitation in approaching the table and flicking the coloured balls across the green top. At first, Robin and Steve tried to play around them, smiling politely but looking for adult supervision.
You and Nancy had watched it all unfold, giggling at Steve’s increasing annoyance. It was only when they rejoined the group that the kids’ parents appeared, starting a family pool session.
“Are you kidding me?! Did they plan that?”
“I don’t think it was a coordinated attack, Steve,” Robin said, patting him on the back.
Despite it being your birthday, you had lost the argument about what would be done for it. Your vote was: nothing. It wasn’t a big deal. Just another day. On the opposing team were Robin, Steve, and Nancy. Eddie and Jonathan were Switzerland. As a consolation prize for losing, you got to choose where you spent the night – as long as it was out of the house.
A bar a few blocks over from Coffee Clash and Raconteur let up-and-coming bands take the stage most Friday nights. Although the small stage was in the next room over, it was still loud. And only chain smokers braved the cold outside, their socks getting wet from snow melting through their cheap boots and trainers.
You’d been there enough that it felt comfortable. You knew which toilet didn’t flush properly, which bartender was generous with the spirits, and which pinball machine ate coins up and never played fair.
“So, a toast to Babychino,” Jonathan said, raising his glass.
“Wait, I have a speech-”
“Shut the fuck up, Rob,” you quickly stopped her.
Robin laughed. “I wouldn’t do that to you, don’t worry,”
“But we should say something… It’s your first birthday with us!” Nancy argued.
“Yeah, and you didn’t even let us get you presents,” Robin added.
“This is enough, okay?”
“What’s the point of a cool birthday if you don’t even take advantage of it?” Jonathan asked.
“Wow. Are you still jealous about that?” Robin quipped.
“I’m not jealous. I’m just saying,”
“He’s right. As if you don’t throw a Halloween party every year,” Steve mused, clearly picturing an alternative reality in his mind.
“Yeah, well, sharing is caring. Don’t want to monopolise Halloween from the kids… and goths.”
Eddie snorted in amusement.
“And what about you?” Robin pointed at him.
“What about me what?” he asked.
“Surprised you didn’t get on the train for Celebration Station,”
“Ah, well, you see, I’m more into the whole free will and choice thing.”
Everyone booed Eddie. Steve threw a couple of bar nuts at him.
“So smug,” Nancy said, shaking her head.
“Self-righteous asshole,” Robin laughed.
Eddie put his hands up in surrender, the satisfied look on his face not moving an inch.
“I’ll go first,” Nancy started, turning to you. “My favourite thing about you-”
“Oh, no, seriously, we don’t have to do this,”
“-is… how you have really rounded out the little family. Since you started at Clash, it’s been, I don’t know. Different. Complete.”
Your nose started to tingle, the threat of tears was imminent, but Jonathan cleared his throat and saved you from Nancy’s earnestness. “Mine is how you out-smoked Steve at his own birthday,” he said.
“She didn’t!” Steve immediately yelled.
“She did,” Eddie confirmed.
“Okay, but only because she was doing training for it like it was the freakin’ Olympics,” Steve replied.
“Don’t worry, Steve. You’re still the greatest party host in all of Chicago,” Robin assured him with a pat on the back. “My favourite thing about Babychino is…” Robin realigned the conversation, “that you know lots about food. I’ve had more good food in this city this year than the other five combined. And even more selfishly, I appreciate how distracted Eddie gets when you’re around, because he’s not even noticed that I gave myself a raise,”
“That’s what you think,” Eddie said under his breath.
“My turn! My favourite thing about you is that you don’t make people feel bad when they make mistakes… Like, the kids, I mean,”
“So, this isn’t about the Morrissey – The Smiths thing?” Jonathan teased.
“Yeah, alright, and that!” Steve conceded, his voice a little higher than usual. “What I’m saying is, you’re not an asshole like everyone else here,”
“Hey!” Nancy frowned.
“Oh! I have another one!” Robin said suddenly.
“Please, I am begging at this point. I love you all. But we’re done,”
“No, Eddie hasn’t had his turn yet,” Nancy said, taking a long sip of her drink through a pink straw, eyelashes fluttering innocently.
Everyone went quiet. Your pulse started to race.
Eddie cocked his head to the side, gave Nancy a too-casual, lazy smile. “My favourite thing,” he began, swivelling on his stool to face you, “about you is…” He leaned close, his lips brushing your ear. He cupped his hand up to hide the action. “You’re really good at going along with it,”
“Eddie!” you squealed and pushed him away. “You promised you would never bring that up,”
“How could I not?” he asked, eyes bright with mischief.
“What if they had heard you?”
“I’m good at whispering,”
“Never again!” you faked a warning.
For the second time that night, Eddie held his hands up in surrender.
“You’re fucking with us… Right…” Steve accused, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
“Of course they are,” Robin shrugged.
Drinks were poured. The bar grew more crowded. Musicians plugged leads into amps and tightened wing nuts on cymbals.
The third band to play was smart. They’d peppered in originals between covers of the exact type of songs that get drunk young people up and singing. Steve and Jonathan had their arms around each other, loudly screaming the words.
At least I have her love,
The city she loves me.
Lonely as I am,
Together we cry.
Robin was twirling Nancy around like a ballerina, and you’d found a cool spot under a vent. The room was hot with dancing bodies and alcohol-infused blood.
I don’t ever wanna feel,
Like I did that day.
Take me to place I love,
Take me all the way.
You turned to look at Eddie, but he was gone from the last place you’d seen him. Immediately, automatically, you walked off to find him. Carving a path through the bar’s crowd, he wasn’t ordering drinks or playing pool. He wasn’t at the Pac-Man arcade machine trying to beat Robin’s high score.
Harry’s voice was your first clue. “Seriously, man. I think it would be a killer addition to your catalogues,”
“My catalogues,” Eddie repeated. You were confused about how Harry never noticed the cynicism in his voice.
“Music like, like Joy Division, but more punk,”
“Real gap in the market, huh?”
“Exactly!”
You approached slowly, Eddie’s eyes flicking to you. The relief was visible as he motioned for you to enter the conversation.
“You remember Harry,” Eddie said.
“Right. With the band. You playing later?” you asked.
“Nah. We’re trying to be more selective about the gigs we play,”
“Great strategy,” Eddie mumbled.
“Okay, well, I need to grab Eddie for a second. Sorry.” Before Harry could protest, you took Eddie’s hand and led him through the bar and out the front door.
There were more people outside than you’d expected, occupying tables and warming themselves with beer and cigarettes.
“Thanks for the save,”
“Is his band really that bad?”
Eddie shrugged. “Don’t know. Haven’t listened to the several demos he’s dropped at the store… Something about him is just… I don’t know,”
“He’s very confident,”
“One word for it.”
You laughed.
Eddie watched you for a second, then ordered, “Come here.” He opened his jacket and pulled you into him. He hugged you while you wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes.
“It’s kind of sweet though. You must feel flattered,”
“About what?” Eddie was confused.
“You’ve got a bit of a reputation as a cool music guy around here.”
Eddie laughed. “Cool music guy?”
You nodded into him.
“Alright, well, at the risk of losing that prestigious status, I’ve broken the no birthday present rule with the most cliché present of all time,”
The gift was wrapped but the size and weight were a dead giveaway. “Surely this can’t be! One of Eddie Munson’s very rare handmade mix tapes.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me regret it,”
“I could probably sell this to Harry for like, twenty bucks,”
“Twenty?!” Eddie squawked. “Nah. It’s gotta be worth at least fifty,”
“Maybe. Depends on how niche it is,”
“You know me. Niche is my middle name,”
“It is? Because I thought it was-” Before you could say it, Eddie had his index finger raised and pressed to your lips, forcing the secret to stay just that. You held in a laugh.
“You swore.”
Saying nothing, you nodded.
“Alright. Come on. I’m freezing my balls off out here. Let’s get back to your not-party.” He turned to head back inside, pausing when you didn’t follow. “You good?”
“You didn’t tell me,”
“Tell you what?”
“Your favourite thing about me.” It was a risky thing to say. To ask of him. You regretted it immediately, terrified of his answer. Whatever he said, you would no doubt fixate on. Obsess over. A trait or behaviour or whatever that could never be completely normal again.
Eddie looked caught off guard, then, a little pained. “Sweetheart, don’t do this to me,” he said softly. “You know I love everything about you.”
On cue, Steve and Robin came tumbling from the bar’s door. “Quick! They’re playing Come as You Are! It’s horrific!”
End note A cat meowing and a guitarist copying the sounds was not an original idea; click here. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented on, and reblogged the first chapter. This one gives you something to really sink your teeth into. Hope you loved it! xo Rhi
Steddie where Steve's dad hears about his son's weird codependent friendship with Al Munson's boy and thinks the two of them have been fooling around in secret. The man gets pissed.
He drives back home and demands Steve break things off with the Munson kid.
Steve gets pissed.
"I'm not gonna break things off, I love him!!" Steve yells before he stomps out through the door and drives away without looking back.
A few minutes later he's at the Munson's. Steve doesn't even bother with knocking, Wayne's more than used to his presence by now, so he just opens the door and go straight to Eddie's room.
"My dad thinks we are dating and demanded that I break things off with you, but I refused and told him I loved you. Do you wanna date me just to piss him off?"
Eddie, who had been stuffing his face with chips as he read some comics in his bed, shrugs. "Do I get to touch your tits?"
"They are not tits!"
"Do I get to touch them anyway?"
"I guess that's reasonable dating behavior, so yes."
"Okay." Eddie puts down the comic book and wipes his hands on his pants. "Now take off your shirt and come here."
ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 :: Coarse language, drug and alcohol consumption, flirtatious behavior, stalking, toxic bravado, unfaithful, trust issues, sub con, sexual content.
Alt/IndieArtist!SteveHarrington
Rockstar!EddieMunson
⚠️Minors DNI⚠️
“I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year."
William Shakespeare
The two artist heard of the other, although they performed in different music scenes, as fate would have it, a music festival would have their paths cross.
Eddie could tell you the exact moment he first laid sight on Steve Harrington, by one way or another he caught the singer lost in the moment during his performance. The guys hips swayed side to side in a liquid flowing motion. There was a certain treachery in his actions.
Harrington’s own fingers woven through his sun-kissed gold locks, a touch that was half-pleasure, half-punishment. To then slowly have them descend caressing himself seductively while he sang. The melody of his voice left him ensnared, it echoed in his ears long after he was gone.
This man struck an untapped chord within Eddie, creating a dare he call it, feeling so potent it consumed his very being. He will not deny it wasn’t initially - sexual, the thought of being intimate with this freckled Adonis, he’d be a liar to say the young males looks weren’t alluring (aside from the hypnotic dance and voice).
As for Harrington, youthful, beautiful, charming, it was music that held his full attention, aspirations of making it big in the industry. Slowly but surely he began to grow a following, then as luck would see it, he blew up, seemingly over night. Given a contract and thrown right into touring, the ascent to popularity was accompanied by a flood of benefits.
Harrington well adept at understanding the complexities of the industry, this prior to - right before he hit the stage or after his performance he took advantage of hook ups, partook in drugs and alcohol consumption, well - drugs and alcohol were taken during each set. Steve availed himself of every opportunity for pleasure, giving free rein to his appetite without restrain.
So when the invite arrived to “meet” backstage with Corroded Coffin’s frontman Eddie Munson, of course he accepted. Munson wasn’t in his radar for various reasons, first off, he was older by 9 years which Steve hadn’t ever been into the whole older men fetish, another; the wild long hair and leather didn’t exactly have his cock at full attention (is what he convinced himself) but he figured he could benefit from this interaction. After all, Eddie and Corroded Coffin were revered in the industry.
To Harrington’s bemuse, the rockstar made no attempts at “getting better acquainted” backstage. They merely hung out, drank, talked music and aspiration’s, snorted the purest coke Steve’s nasal passage has ever had. There was definitely some heavy flirting by both parties that lead no where.
It would be Steve that took the plunge, before he left, a chaste kiss ( not for lack of trying to shove his tongue down the rockstars throat). Annoyed it lead to nothing further, or was he not his type? No, he invited him over! What was Eddie’s game here? No worries, Harrington found himself a nice little number on his way back to his tour bus. The night wasn’t a complete waste, yet the taste of Eddie Munson would linger.
Their next encounter would be a photoshoot, the legends along with up and coming - new generation. The chemistry was there, both gravitated to the other. Once done the two hit the after party together, Harrington would make certain they pick up right where they left off. Both men are comfortable around one other, have this natural flow - which was why Steve’s left dumbfounded by Munson’s nonchalant way of not having it go past light teasing touches, fingers brushing against the other and yet again another chaste kiss. Steve told himself, the next time they met, he was going to fuck the rockstar, now on principle.
Their third encounter was months later at the Grammys after party, Harrington won new artist of the year while Corroded Coffin took home song of the year along with best rock album.
That evening, after a variety of celebratory drinks, drugs to ease their nerves, heavy petting, flirting, touching, a determined Steve found himself in bed with Eddie, who against his better judgment finally succumbed to his impulses, and with some help from Steve’s advances, finally had sex. Don’t get him wrong, it was amazing, beyond what he could’ve imagined, having Steve in such an intimate form, the symphony of sounds he made. After the night they shared Eddie awoke later that morning, alone. There would be no text or calls to follow, they wouldn’t cross paths for a while.
Eddie was no saint, known for having his fair share of casual liaisons, three ways, orgy parties, exclusive sex club memberships, he’d done it all. Frankly - he grew tired of that aspect in his life, in the end, he was left feeling - hallow. So he closed the door on casual flings, deciding his next intimate connection would require emotional investment.
And although he “initially” was sexually infatuated by Harrington that all changed, grew into something - deeper than just sexual, he enjoyed their time together, their talks, his company, it all meant something (more) to Ed.
To start his morning alone with not so much as a note - yeah, Ed took it hard. Last night although he wasn’t ready to take it all the way with Harrington, he did so - assuming Steve was in the same head space of taking whatever they were to the next level. By no means was he blaming Steve for anything, Eddie’s a grown ass man, and his actions were of his own volition, right.
To a pleasant astonishment Steve would eventually make contact, each time he was in town and looking for a good time (fucked into sub space). They’d hangout, Eddie vowing he wouldn’t be making the same mistake, only to end up in bed or shower, back seat of a car, an alley, a theater or wherever they ended up every single time, entangled in one another. After which, that hallow feeling grew just a bit more, slowly consuming him.
On one such night, fed up with this overtaking sentiment, not to mention disgust in himself for betraying his beliefs, Eddie would finally work up the courage to ask.
“Steve, what - are we? I mean, well yeah - what am I, to you?”
Harrington offered a puzzled look, fastening his pants. Mid way putting his shirt on he offers the truth, vague - cold.
“We hook up on occasions when ever I’m in town, you’re - a good time Ed.”
“I guess what I’m trying to figure out is - do you see it ever being more than just casual? Perhaps, exclusive?”
Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Steve was in no mood for this conversation. He’d been hooking up with Eddie assuming they had an unspoken understanding, considering he’s the rockstar. He wouldn’t call it casual, definitely not exclusive. Whatever it was, worked. But now, well now he knew that wasn’t the case, at least not for Munson.
“ I assumed we had an unspoken agreement, that this was just casual fun , I mean. I see other people when I’m in other cities. Don’t you?”
Eddie remains silent, reigning in his emotions. He’s right, they’d never spoken about exclusivity. He was all too willing to give himself to this man without question. To now dump this on his lap without remotely ever having prior talks about - exclusivity.
“Ima head on out.”
“This - this is it, isn’t it. Once you leave, you’re - I’m not seeing you again. Am I.” More a statement than a question, and Eddie’s world shattered at the impact of his own knowledge.
“I’m not ready for what you’re asking Eddie nor am I ready to have that kind of conversation. I - don’t want anything serious, not with anyone. So, to answer your question, yes. You won’t be seeing me after tonight, I think- that’s for the best.”
“ I appreciate your honesty, I screwed up by not speaking up sooner - I guess.”
“Wouldn’t have changed the outcome Ed, even if you had.”
“I’m sorry Steve - for ruining…this.”
Steve refused to look back, call it pride? Indifference? He opened the front door, halting his movement, turning only half way - Ed caught a glimpse of the man he grew to love.
“This” was never anything Ed, can’t ruin - nothing.”
With that finale, Steve Harrington walked out focused on his future while leaving Eddie where he belonged, in his past.
They wouldn’t cross paths for 5 years.
Harrington’s career flourished, continuing to release hit after hit, successful duets with countless remixes. For the past 5 years Harrington gradually turning himself into “the” hot commodity. Fame suited the 27 year old well.
Eddie on the other hand opted for hiatus, prior the band discussed having aspirations of starting families and settling down. It was a sad day in music when they announced CC was on hiatus, indefinite.
Munson not having the heart to wholly cut off playing or writing music continued, though remaining out of the limelight. Wrote songs for other musicians even dabbled with producing. Found he had a niche for it, always able at seeking out and assisting new talent.
Branching out, his next adventure would be movie scores. Having one stipulation, requiring to be there for the more climactic scenes - to get a feel of the characters and scenes, being a visual person over watching it on screen, on such an occasion he meets bonafide A lister Sebastian Carvajal. Eddie found him to be the typical arrogant and pretentious actor, while Carvajal wasn’t keen on “The Rock Star” either.
Eddie would go on to create scores for a few other of Carvajal’s projects, it was only natural they set their differences aside for the better. With time and increased understanding, their initial animosity dissipated entirely, in fact - they had more in common.
Their “strictly calls” switched to “let’s try zoom” that turned to “meet for coffee” that escalated to “let’s grab lunch”, that developed to “have you had dinner” that transitioned to dates. Both men made their intentions crystal clear, Sebastian recently divorced after being separated for 2 years from his then spouse. Now a single father, the actor wasn’t looking to even date, but as fate would have it, other plans were set in motion.
Eddie whose had a string of failed relationships, lasting only a few weeks to months after being a doting, romantic and patient partner, everything his counterparts weren’t expecting nor thrilled to see from the rockstar. It always ended the same, they wanted the infamous rockstar, and the life that came with it. Not this - romantic version, putting Ed off attempting to date all together, that was until this too good to be true man that - is sunshine in human form.
They agree to keep “them” under wraps for obvious reasons, it’s not until they’ve been dating exclusively for over a year - they make their relationship public. It would become their undoing, Eddie spoke of returning back to what he loved doing - playing music. He reached out to the other band members, all agreeing, it was time for Corroded Coffin to make their resurgence.
First, an announcment, CC’s been in the studio working on new material, it’s unexpected. The fan’s go bat shit crazy, and the band did not disappoint. Their single “Pale Moonlight” shoots to number 1, stays there for a month. Starting off slow, adding a few tour dates along with a festival to start, one that would have an old familiar face.
Inevitably Sebastian and Eddie call it a quits, nothing to do with them being in the spotlight. In the end, it was due to both being unable to say they loved the other, though they remain close. Much so, they keep in touch, seeking the other for guidance.
Once informed of CCs addition to the lineup for reasons beyond his comprehension it made Steve feel angsty, the thought of Eddie Munson, the only person to take him seriously, didn’t stick around for the benefits of being alongside Steve Harrington. Who knew that Steve was a piece of shit and still some how thought the sun shined out his ass.
This man that against Harrington’s better judgement infiltrated his thoughts, the soul reason for his arousals, all his advances of moving past him, all fails. Forced to seek someone/anyone to bury this - undeserving emotion that has Harrington worshipping his name (internally), every time he was inside another, plagued by visions of only Eddie. This man - he so carelessly pushed away with such tasteless words and even worse indifference years ago.
Steve has never brought up nor will he exploit his time with Eddie, evenings spent being catered, explored and fucked into sub - space he has not once been since then, since him. God dammit does he loath this man.
After much debate, thoughts of pulling out of the festival, he wised up, couldn’t do that to the fans. No longer the newcomer he was those past years, he would work the same festival along side Corroded Coffin like a professional, shit for all he knew he wouldn’t have time to see Eddie, plus they were set to play on different nights with CC playing opening night Friday and Steve playing Saturday.
“They’re what?!”
“Closing out all 3 nights! Isn’t that insane! The fans are in for a fucking show!”
“I - yeah, that’s..gonna blow their minds.”
It’s Tuesday; all artist arrived for sound and set checks, interviews, promo shoots, set ups. Harrington’s so busy there’s no time to give a second thought to the fact that he heard Corroded Coffin had arrived, like he said- he’s going to be busy doing his own shit. No big whoop when the rockstar walks past him, being lead to his own interview area, Steve warily watched the man out of the corner of his eye. Too busy to look anywhere else with taking pictures, signing autographs, he chanced a glance at making eye contact - a moment that would never be, Munson gave no indication he had noticed him. Yeah, fuck you Eddie.
Steve’s drained, loves what he does so he won’t bitch and complain. He’s lucky, blessed with a thriving career. For now, he wants nothing more than a cold shower, maybe some b..
“Steve?”
The sound of his name spoken through treacherous lips, brought a surprising wave of thrills and chills. Shaking off these thoughts, rein in your shit Harrington, he turned with a smile, he would fake it good.
“Hey - Hi Ed! How have… ..you look great! I mean, well you do, what’s it been? Years yeah? Heard you’ve done great things in the film industry, that’s amazing! I - you, how’s it feel to be back? You ready?”
God he sounds stupid, mortified, he fights the urge to turn around and run, seek some hole to crawl in, Eddie must think he’s such a fucking idiot! Except, he offers a genuine kind smile, followed by a laugh. His hand behind his head, giving his wild curls a tug.
“You said a mouthful there! It feels great to be back home ya know, we missed this. I - missed this. But enough of me, heard you’ve been killing it! I listened to the new album, it’s - you’ve grown in sound and lyrics. It’s vastly different from your previous albums. More - dark under tones of regret - if that’s safe to presume. It’s a whole other side of you.”
Harrington’s left tongue-tied, screams at himself to say some thing, anything you dumbass! Jesus, he paid a compliment to your growth in music! This man, he - always got you, better than you got yourself, than anyone else. Steve’s silence has Eddie recalibrating his next words.
“Well, it was - good seeing you..”
Eddie’s already walked past him when the first thing that popped into his head came tumbling out of his mouth.
“How’s your relationship with … the Oscar winner?”
“Sebastian, that’s his name.”
Eddie spat, turning around, not malicious yet - affirming, left a bitter taste in Steve’s palate when he forced himself to back track an apology.
“Of course - Sebastián, I apologize. Meant, no disrespect.”
“Apology not necessary, didn’t assume you did Harrington. We’re - doing good, yeah.”
“That’s great! I’m - happy for him…you! I mean, you two!” Steve responds in a falsetto range, failing at masking his true feelings. Their final moments are awkward silence, Eddie’s first to walk away.
The following day drags, Munson doesn’t see Steve once. Thank god for that, it’s been 5 years! Remaining in the same spot like no time passed, longing for someone, something that was - unattainable, an illusion, all the reason he should let this flame fizzle out, finally settle down and fully commit to Sebastian.
Eddie wouldn’t do that, Seb deserved more, better than “a settling love”. He respected him far more than to offer a partial love when his heart was so completely already given to another.
Unbeknownst to many, Eddie’s a romantic. Believed in love at first sight and fate, when you know - you know. That was Steve, mindful he’s a fool to put it all on the line for someone he’d just met all those years ago, who’s younger, just starting out in the business. Alas, his heart’s longing surpassed logic.
Now Friday, the festival was off to a tremendous start with CC performing for the first time in 5 years. How would they top opening night? Steve watched from the side stage, ensuring he wasn’t visible to anyone, least of all Eddie. Observes in awe while the older male welcomed everyone, thanking them for making it out. He’s so poetic with his words, always making it about the fans.
They closed out Friday playing their new hit “Pale Moonlight”, the lyrics had Harrington in a chokehold. Some how - found himself at Eddie’s tour bus that night, he would’ve knocked except - visible to only him was Eddie, between his legs was some…guy with a mouthful of The Rocklord.
Steve knew he was wrong to watch Ed, who had his eyes closed, head tilted back. Lips slightly parted, moistening them, looking - ethereal, likely nearing his climax. Hands up over his head, flashing toned abdomen, delicious alabaster skin. It’s too much, Harrington left pissed off when he had no reason to be, he wasn’t his, after all, he’s the one that rejected Ed.
At the time, Steve felt he’d done the right thing for himself and Eddie. Their age gap, his experience, Harrington wasn’t - willing to not indulge, Eddie deserved better, more. Someone that would - leave on the light for him.
He pushed along his set that Saturday, after he would be leaving. Ensuring to not cross Eddie’s path, not until Steve was rid of all things Munson.
“You guys have been amazing as always! Thank you for your unwavering support in what we do! For coming out to watch us do what we love. To perform, give it our all, for you guys! I - leave you with this new song, unreleased. It’s, special to me.”
The tune is mellow, his voice - soothing yet undertone of pain. Steve pours all of himself into the performance, has the fan’s tearing up by his haunting lyrics.
“I'll try for all of my life
Just to find someone who leaves on the light for me
Leaves on the light for me
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh”
Eddie’s no where to be found all day, and.. Steve will - eventually come to terms with that, waving goodbye as he exited the stage.
Making a beeline for the bus - needing to add as much distance as possible from the festival, leaving it all behind, their encounter, shared moments, his regret, all of it. He’s lived 5 years with this - regret, without Eddie. After tonight, this ship has sailed.
In his deep wallow he hadn’t noticed he had a guest, not until they make their presence known.
“Leaving so soon?”
He’s stopped in his tracks, there inside his bus stood Eddie, hands tucked in his pockets, appearing small and - nervous. Steve isn’t in the mood, he’s … pissed, feels stupid! He is stupid! So fucking stupid! He - he’s hurting.
“No point in sticking around.”
“Right, just thought you’d stay till after it ended?”
“Don’t you have to get ready to go on? Shouldn’t be wasting your time here!”
“I thought - maybe we could hangout aft..”
“Hangout? Sure you got time? Thought perhaps all your nights were already penciled in.”
“What’s - that mean?”
“Just thought with the rocklord now back, you’d reserve your time to - play catch up.”
“Telepathy isn’t a talent of mine, so why don’t you just come out with it.”
“It’s really none of my business what you do or choose to do after your shows man, ju…”
Eddie chuckled, head dips down then quickly back up with a disbelieving undertone, piecing it together, his - reaction had cut Steve’s final word.
“You saw me - last night.”
“Like I said, none of my business.”
“That’s why you’re - worked up? Cuz it’s none of your business!”
“Screw you!”
“Steve -”
“I’m done talking, get out!”
“Nah, I’m not letting you off that easy this time! I’ll leave, but not until you tell me why you came to see me last night.”
“I said - get out!” Steve’s fuming - pushed past Eddie who reached out taking his arm, pulling him back with unforeseen force, their chest collide, it’s instant, Steve feels the gravitational pull. Immediately lifting an arm, causing a wedge between the two.
“Tell me!” in a plea, Eddie’s demeanor now shifted. He was - desperate to know why! Why Steve stopped by last night.
“Let go of me Eddie!”
“Steve - please, for once. Be honest with me and with yourself.”
Eddie’s choice in words struck a chord, all of this - was due to Steve never being honest with either of them. He had no right to be upset at Eddie or his extracurriculars, he has to make one correction, he wasn’t mad, rather - jealous.
And as Steve contemplates all this in his head, Eddie’s fighting to hold it together, reminding himself why he was there. Releasing his hold over Steve’s arm he reached up to cup his face, he’s so gentle about it, doesn’t want to spook him, but now that he’s in his grasp, Eddie’s unsure he’ll be capable of letting go.
Steve melts from the proximity, senses drowning in Eddie’s scent. Tired of the front, the lies, running away like a coward. It’s exhausting pretending to not care, to not feel, to not want this man. So, for once, he tries out the truth. When he speaks, it’s the first time Eddie witnesses the raw emotions of Steve Harrington, the guy that seemed indifferent, wasn’t so.
“I lied, I’ve ..been lying to you this whole time, that’s why I came last night, to tell you that. You.. asked me once, long ago, if I ever saw us as more. I wasn’t telling the truth. I - did, but I wasn’t ready. I knew …it wouldn’t work out, at the time the better choice was to walk away before..”
“Before - .” A breathy Eddie parrots.
“You came to realize your error and resented me when everything went wrong. My choice to run away like a coward was bearable, and look, you ended up with someone better suited for you.” Steve’s confession of his emotions offered a form of catharsis. He would continue.
“I - convinced myself I was doing right by you, when in reality I took the easy way out. I - didn’t, even try. I made you think that our time together meant nothing, and maybe, maybe in the long run, it all worked out for the best.”
“Damn you Steve Harrington..” Eddie paused, bringing Steve closer. His eyes locking to his, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over flushed skin.
“Do you have the slightest idea how - infuriating this is! To find out that..”
“I’m - sorry. That’s why I came to your bus last night, to - finally be honest with you and myself, but then I saw you and …as it was, I had my doubts, I wasn’t going to be the reason for ruining someone’s relationship! But you don’t seem the least bit worried abo..”
“I’m not seeing anyone, when you asked about Sebastian, I said what I said because, it seemed the easiest route to take at the time. And last night was..”
“None of my business Eddie, told you.”
“Do - you still feel the same way you did 5 years ago?”
“Five years of my life have been consumed by a solitary ache for an unrealized future, with…you.”
Eddie beamed, clearing his throat, with a light tilt of his head.
“You weren’t exactly alone from what - I saw.”
This would be Eddie’s way of leveling down the heavy, but also an opening for Harrington. Because in those 5 years he fucked anything that moved, gave the appearance of living his best life, thus far. Steve gets it, he’s delighted to shed light on what Ed implied without really saying “you’re full of shit”.
“I fucked my way through bodies, yet never found solace in any of them. After which it would - all end the same, me - alone in bed, consumed with self loathing for my stupidity. You - were always in my thoughts, found myself checking your accounts when it was - unbearable. It was stupid really, because I had my chance, made my decision, now I’d live with the consequences.”
Eddie’s phone rang and rang consistently through out Steve’s confession, not once did he pick it up or give any indication that he would. Steve knew better, knew Eddie needed to go. His fan’s have waited 5 years for this, for them.
“You should go.”
“I know - but my gut is telling me if I leave now, I might lose another 5 years or more of - not having you in my life. If, I’m being honest ..I just - can’t fucking do it! I - refuse to!”
25 minutes later …
The band made their grand entrance, the crowd in a frenzy. Eddie walks out last waving animatedly at the sea of people, it’s written all over his face, as much as he attempted to hide it. Having to clear his throat a few times while strapping his sweetheart over his shoulder, a hand grips the mic. He’s not one to let the fans down, he loves them, their like extended family.
“First off, I’d like to thank you all for waiting. I - was..”
Eddie froze, yearning desperately to be somewhere else. But both agreed, the show must go on.
25 minutes ago …
“Will - you stay, be here after - we finish our set?”
Steve bit the inside of his cheek, shook his head side to side .
“No.”
“Can we - continue this conversation after the festival, I’ll come to you! Where ever that may be!”
“I don’t think so Eddie.”
“Oh - ”
“We can continue this after you close out night two of the festival.”
Which brings us back to Eddie on stage, unable to think of anything but worshiping Steve, making up for lost time.
“I’m sorry, I just - I gotta do this life altering moment first, then we’re rocking the shit outta this place!”
Eddie ran off stage where he last saw Steve, who was utterly confused when he saw a jungle of wild curls head his way, only stopping when he’s in his space.
“I’m in love with you, have been for over 5 years now! I refuse to waste another minute depriving myself of telling you this, I love you. Steve.”
Harrington waste no time latching his lips to Eddie’s, the kiss is fueled with longing. Ed wraps his arms around Steve’s waist, lifting him off his feet, their embrace never breaking. This feels right, Steve encased in Eddie’s arms, his warmth, his essence engulfing his being, Eddie was the solace Steve never found - not until a wild rockstar invited him backstage.
“Say you’re mine, that I walk away with the knowledge that you’re finally mine Stevie.”
“I’ve always been yours Ed, no more running. And if I do, I’ll be running to you. I love you Eddie.”
“I’d like an encore of that song later.”
Steve let’s go as Eddie set him down, gives one last peck.
“Go get em..”
Eddie returns all smiles, so much so he can’t stop gushing. Corroded Coffin start their set, fans and other performers notice how the rockstars eyes wander to a certain part of the stage.
They close out night 2 with a bang, Eddie gets an acoustic rendition of Steve’s song written for him. The two finish their conversation that night, end it tangled up in bed. They don’t have sex, both agree to take it slow and enjoy what they hadn’t their first time.
The following day, the last of the festival Steve was spotted walking around wearing a cropped tee that eagle eyed fans knew was Eddie’s. While Munson performed in a freshly cut Steve Harrington tour shirt.
CC’s fan’s sang along to Harrington’s lyrics when Ed came out (during an intermission) to do an impromptu rendition of Steve’s first single. It was beautifully done, and once he was finished he once more looked over towards that same part of the stage he had the night before. Mouthing very clearly “I love you sweetheart.”
Hi! If you’re still taking Stranger Things requests, what you think of Eddie liking someone who is a quiet nerd, like a bookworm? Honestly, I don’t think it would be quite a headcanon that Eddie is a bookworm (the man quotes Lord of the Rings). But I haven’t found any fics that really delves into that.
Sorry this took so long! Hope this is what you were looking for xx
~~
Eddie was rushing through the halls, ignoring the glares he received from the people he passed. He had gotten detention, yet again, and was now late to Hellfire.
“Get out of the way, Freak.” A jock in a letterman jacket sneered, pushing at his shoulder aggressively, making him stumble over his own feet.
A stunted breath left him as he bumped into the firm frame of whoever was unfortunate enough to get caught in the crosshairs of his bullying. He reached out instinctively, his hands grabbing onto the pair of shoulders in front of him, steadying the both of them so they didn’t fall to the floor.
“Whoa, sorry.” Eddie rushed out in reflex, hoping to minimize the damage before it ended in a punch to the face.
“It’s ok, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
The soft, apologetic voice that greeted him was unexpected. He looked at the girl who stood in front of him and, suddenly realizing he still had his hands on her shoulders, raised his hands abruptly.
“Wasn’t your fault.” He spoke slightly bashfully.
He was struck suddenly by how beautiful she was and he wondered briefly why he’d never seen her before. He certainly didn’t pay much attention to anyone besides his club, definitely not to those who didn’t slam him into lockers and curse him out.
She knelt to grab her book that had fallen to the floor in the chaos of their abrupt meeting.
Eddie’s eyes widened slightly as he saw the cover of the book she held, the same book that lay on his nightstand, the pages worn as he continually returned to his favorite parts.
“You- you’re reading The Silmarillion?”
“Uh, yeah.” She answered slowly, a crease forming in between her brows, suddenly worried at the turn in conversation, fearing nothing but ridicule would follow.
“That’s one of my favorite books.” Eddie grinned. “Let me know how you like it.”
She smiled, one of relief and nodded, the gesture shy yet endeared.
Eddie continued on his way, this time no longer running through the halls like a madman. Hellfire was no longer the only thing on his mind. He looked over his shoulder, getting one last look at the mystery girl who had her nose buried in her book once more, and smiled.
He looked like an idiot, smiling in a dreamy daze as he sauntered into the drama room where the rest of the Hellfire Club was impatiently waiting for him.
“What the hell took you so long?” Gareth asked in annoyance at how nonchalant their leader breezed in, as if he had all the time in the world to start their campaign.
“I just met someone.” Eddie spoke with a grin. “I bumped into her and she didn’t curse me out or look at me like I was the devil.”
“That’s a miracle.” Dustin snorted, his tone not even enough to dampen Eddie’s high like state.
“Who was she?”
Eddie’s smile faltered, realizing crashing over him that he hadn’t even asked her name. “Shit, I don’t know.”
The club collectively rolled their eyes.
“Fuck, I don’t know how to find her. I’ve never seen her in any of my classes.”
“You don’t even go to your classes.” Gareth reminded him, earning a glare from the dungeon master.
Eddie slumped into his chair, the campaign now the last thing on his mind.
By the next day at school, he was a man on a mission, scouring the halls, looking for that girl with her nose buried in a book, a kind smile, and dazzling eyes.
A week had passed until he saw her again.
He was close to pulling his hair out, trying to decipher whatever the fuck Shakespeare was trying to say. He was actually trying to graduate this year and decided to spend his spare period in the library working on his English essay rather than smoking a joint behind the bleachers.
He didn’t know what divine punishment it was that getting that damn diploma hinged on his ability to write about the themes of Romeo and Juliet.
He sighed, slamming his pencil down, closing the book with an annoyed groan. He leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms out, as though he’d been weary from writing for hours and not the ten minutes he’d actually been working.
In his current effort to distract himself from Shakespeare - happy to never return to the man’s work for the rest of his life - he let his eyes wander around the library.
His eyes instinctively hurried past a group of cheerleaders. He didn’t need any more rumors circulating about him being a satanic creep who preyed on cheerleaders to use in ritual sacrifices.
His entire body suddenly perked up, his posture straightening as his gaze fell on the mystery girl he’d ran into weeks ago and had given up hope of ever finding. He was beginning to wonder if he had hallucinated the entire thing.
But there she stood, completely real.
Despite the stack of books she held, her eyes still curiously roamed the shelves, looking for her next adventure.
Eddie smiled at the sight and before he could comprehend the consequences, he called out to her, his greeting heard among the entire library, making not only her head turn, but the heads of everyone else in the room.
He shrunk in his seat slightly, ignoring the glares sent his way.
She looked around, wondering who it was he was trying to call out to, but when she saw no one else in her vicinity, she sent him a questioning look, to which he nodded, motioning her over.
“Uhh, hi.” She spoke slightly awkwardly as she took a seat across from him.
“Hey,” He grinned. Now that she was sitting in front of him, close enough that he could discern the color swirling in her eyes, he suddenly realized he had no idea what to say to her.
He panicked internally, his brain screaming at him to say something, anything.
“Did you need something?” She asked and he cursed himself in his head for his idiocy.
“No, not really. Just wanted to say hi.”
She laughed, the sound alleviated the berating he was giving himself.
“Why?”
“Well, you didn’t crucify me after I bumped into you, which is practically saintly if you ask me.” Eddie recounted their first meeting, making her smile. His expression turned more serious as he straightened in his seat. “I… I appreciated that you didn’t, you know, call me a freak or spit in my face.”
Her face twisted in concern. “Do people actually spit at you?”
“No, not yet at least.”
Her lips curled, poised for a smile, yet she couldn’t quite tell if he was joking or not.
“So, how’d you like the Silmarillion?”
This time, a genuine smile grew, the sight lighting a feeling in Eddie he didn’t think he’d ever felt. No one in this hell hole had even smiled at him like that.
“I’m glad I gave it a chance. I don’t usually read fantasy, but I think Tolkien was able to convert me.”
“Yeah, he’ll do that. You should check out the Lord of the Rings series. I’ve read them twice now, they’re legendary.”
“Yeah, I will.” She smiled, slightly in disbelief that she was having a conversation about Tolkien books with Eddie Munson, local freak, no less. No one at school gave a shit about her hobbies, or the latest book she’d read. Even her small group of friends had to cut her off when she started to go on rants about the plot holes in her latest reads.
She’d never had anyone care, let alone give her recommendations.
“Looks like you’ve picked enough books to keep you busy for the next year.” Eddie pointed to the stack of books next to her.
“This will probably last me two weeks.”
Eddie huffed in laughter. Somehow he didn’t doubt it.
He leaned forward in his seat, his curious eyes taking her in. “How come I’ve never seen you around before?”
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture born out of a lifelong shyness that never really went away.
“I’m in AP classes.” She said quietly, wincing to herself as soon as the words left her mouth. “Sorry, there’s really no way to say that without sounding arrogant.”
Eddie barked out a laugh, making her eyes widen at the loud sound and look around cautiously to the other students in the library who glared at them for the disturbance. But Eddie didn’t seem to care, or notice for that matter.
“I think you did a pretty good job, Sweetheart. Didn’t make me wanna cry about my failing grades at least.”
She felt heat bloom in her face at the unexpected pet name. She shifted in her seat, suddenly very aware of the grin on Eddie’s face and the small space in between them.
Her eyes fell on the book in front of him, giving her an out to what she would imagine to be a pathetic attempt at flirting on her end.
“How are you liking Romeo and Juliet?” She asked, startling Eddie slightly at the abrupt turn in conversation.
“Hating it.” He answered bluntly, making her laugh once again, the sound warming his cynical heart.
“I had to read that last year. It’s pretty bleak.”
“I thought this was supposed to be the most romantic thing to ever happen to literature. That’s how O’Donnell sold it to us and I gotta say, the more I decipher it, the more I think the woman’s a crook.”
“Yeah, the whole unforbidden love thing is pretty antiquated. And killing yourself because you don’t get to be with them, it’s just all very dramatic.”
“Holy shit, that’s how it ends?” Eddie asked in disbelief, flicking through the book to the end, though he knew it was a lost cause. He couldn’t understand the damn thing anyways.
“Just write about the contrasting themes of family loyalty and free will. O’Donnell will eat that crap up.” She offered, remembering the praise she’d gained last year for the same paper.
Eddie looked at her as if she had just offered him a million dollars. He was, once again, taken aback by her kindness. Harsh indifference or flat out assault were what he usually received from his classmates.
No one, besides his fellow degenerates and beloved nerds in Hellfire, had ever cared enough or seen beyond the metalhead appearance to even talk to him, let alone help him.
“Thank you.” He spoke genuinely, the soft tone of her voice surprising her.
She smiled. “Anytime.”
As the bell rang, she stood from the table, gathering her stack of books.
“I’ll see you around.” She smiled and he could only nod, left in a stunned state of silence, his gaze trailing her as she left.
He slumped in his seat, a small smile lingering.
A thought suddenly appeared, shattering the haze of happiness she’d cloaked him in. He didn’t ask for her name. Again.
“Fuck!” He cried aloud in frustration, earning him a well-deserved spot in detention.
At lunch, his spoiled mood was evident to say the least.
“Dude, stop moping, it’s just a girl.”
“She’s not just a girl, Gareth.” Eddie countered, stealing the bag of pretzels Mike was eating to throw one at Gareth’s head. “She’s… nice. More than nice, she’s cool, she gave a shit. You know how rare that is? Now I’ll never find her.”
“You found her once, you can do it again. This school isn’t that big.” Dustin said, rolling his eyes at Eddie’s dramatics.
It took another three days for Eddie to see her again. He spotted her familiar head of hair across the hall and he abruptly stopped in his tracks, a beaming grin beginning to grow. He waved to her, trying to catch her attention, but she was distracted by the book she was reading, her attention laid solely in the pages before her.
A cheerleader walked by, slapping the book out of her hands, laughing devilishly in triumph at her lazy attempt at bullying those she saw beneath her social standing.
Eddie’s smile was wiped off his face in an instant, his brows furrowing in anger as he watched her kneel to pick up her book only to get pushed down by the same cheerleader who laughed even harder at her misery.
People around him either did nothing, minding their own business in fear of becoming the next target, or they laughed along, feeling nothing but pride to knock down another pitiful nerd.
He grit his teeth, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach as he watched her pick up her book, her head down in shame as she slunk down the halls, like she wanted to make herself smaller, unnoticeable.
It boiled his blood.
The anger simmered within him for the rest of the day. She didn’t deserve it, not her, not the only person who had shown him any kindness in this cursed place. He wished he could’ve been there quicker.
He’d take any vitriol or bullying those assholes threw at him to shield her.
By the last period, having stewed in his anger for hours, he needed a break. Raising his hand to ask if he could use the washroom, he took his out and headed to the front doors, breathing a sigh of relief in the open air.
He made his way to his usual hiding spot behind the bleachers as he dug through his pocket for the spare joint he kept hidden.
He stopped in his tracks, quickly taking the joint out of his mouth on instinct as he noticed a figure sitting in his hiding spot. He relaxed instantly, his lips curling into a smile when he noticed it was her.
She sat cross-legged in the grass, a book in her lap, her head down, completely engrossed.
“What’s this one about?” He asked suddenly, startling her out of her daze.
“Jesus christ, how long have you been there?” She asked breathlessly, placing a hand over her racing heart.
“Not long. Cute shorts.” He pointed to the gym outfit she wore, making her smile bashfully. “What would the college scouts say if they saw you skipping gym?”
“It would save them from watching me attempt to play basketball, which is a kinder feat.”
Eddie laughed and took a seat next to her on the ground, pulling the joint back to his lips.
“You want some?” He asked after blowing out a cloud of smoke.
“No, I’m good.”
“Ever tried it?”
“No, it’d probably make me freak out and this is the last place I’d wanna be if that happened.”
“I’d protect you.” Eddie told her, smiling bashfully at his sudden boldness.
She smiled, feeling that heat crawl back inside her, the one that made her head spin and her heart race. It seemed to be a common occurrence around him.
Eddie’s smile soon faltered, his expression growing tight. “I saw what happened today.”
Her breath hitched, a dull sadness overtaking the kindness that usually lit up her eyes. She knew what she was, a nerd, a bookworm, that those labels put a target on her back for every popular kid to kick her around as they pleased.
It never hurt any less with each time.
“I’m used to it.” She answered quietly, keeping her gaze cast down to the ground.
“That’s worse.” Eddie countered.
“I’m fine.” She shrugged, desperate for the conversation to change.
Eddie sighed heavily, watching her carefully, at how she seemed to retreat into herself.
“I can walk you to class.” He offered suddenly.
“What?”
“They can’t mess with you if I’m there.”
“Why? Cause they’ll bully you instead?”
He laughed and nodded. “Exactly.”
“That sounds… ridiculous.”
“Yeah, but It’d make me feel better.”
“It would?” She asked in disbelief.
“Definitely.”
This time she couldn’t look anywhere but at Eddie, as if trapped under a spell in his gaze. The sincerity, the protectiveness that lay buried beneath his kindness, made her heart stutter.
“Ok.”
Eddie grinned and leaned in closer, nudging his shoulder against hers.
“Besides, I owe you. You totally saved my ass with that Romeo and Juliet paper.”
She smiled. “I’m glad I could help.”
Warmth spread through him, soothing every ounce of anger and resentment that had been built up for years of being the bullied outcast. She saw past it all, she didn’t shy away from him, she didn’t treat him differently because of the clothes he worse or the games he played with his friends.
He briefly thought about inviting her to a campaign. He could only imagine the fables she could write with him. Eddie bit at his lip, nerves beginning to bubble to the surface, but he could no longer deny the words at the tip of his tongue.
“Would you wanna go out with me?” He asked suddenly, his eyes widening at his own bluntness.
She looked taken aback for a moment, eyeing him carefully, as if trying to catch his bluff. Her expression softened, her ease with him reminding her of his intentions, reminding her of the safety he promised her.
She knew he was genuine.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Relief washed over him in an instant. He bit his lip in an attempt to quell the grin that wanted to grow, one that seemed to be constant in her presence.
“I’m Eddie, by the way.”
She laughed loudly, placing a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. It hadn’t ever occurred to her that they hadn’t even introduced themselves after all this time.
She gave her name, which Eddie repeated quietly, the name ringing in his head on a loop.
Walking thru Hawkins back to the van (different one, the old one finally gave up) and ran into Jonathan who took this and sent it over as a present. Maybe we should use it on Christmas cards? What do ya think Eddie? Maybe?
Day 002: Ice Skating | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Canon Divergence, Pre-S4, (Re)Meet Cute
He's beautiful.
That's the first thought that Steve has.
The second?
He's not sure that the ice on Lover's Lake is thick enough for ice skating. Not yet. Steve came out to check and see, but he wasn't confident he was gonna be able to get on the ice today. However, this guy beat him to the punch.
At least Steve thinks it's a guy, from the body movements alone, skating out on the (hopefully) frozen lake. He really needs glasses. He squints, watching their hair fly as they're spinning, spinning, spinning before taking off across the ice like they aren't dizzy at all.
It's not professional skating, not by a long shot, but it still looks good. Especially for Hawkins, Indiana. It's not like they're at Lake Placid or Sarajevo. Nobody from here makes it that far from what Steve can tell.
Steve can skate, too. Not figure skate, but he has his old hockey skates draped over his shoulder this morning. Hockey gave way to swimming and basketball, but he still enjoys the feeling of the cold air on his face at a rink. And a frozen lake? Even better. He could get out there. There's plenty of room for two. But he sort of feels content just watching. He sits on a fallen log, and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to thaw his stiff fingers.
And he watches. Taking in the somewhat manic movements. They aren't fluid. And they definitely aren't delicate in the slightest, but they are absolutely eye-catching. Steve sees the ice shavings fly as he comes to a stop, and then takes off again, before jumping high above the ice. Landing with force, hands flying out. Strong. Like he's commanding an audience he isn't aware he even has.
It's fascinating.
Steve hears it before he sees it.
The sound of a cracking ice as the guy lands with a thud on one blade. All his weight in that one spot. Steve's heart races, leaping into his throat.
The guy knows, has to, the way he stills unnaturally. Stopping all movement, except for the slow motion of spreading his arms and legs. His second foot grazes the ice, coming down to take some of the weight off his planted foot. Steve watches him extend his body, arms and legs, both out.
Steve doesn't want to startle him. He's pretty sure this guy thinks he's all alone out here this early. And it looks like he might get out of this just fine.
But the ice whines again, cracking a little further.
He's going in. Steve can feel it, hear it. He's going to go in, under, and Steve's stuck on the shore. He dumps his skates at his feet, and stands.
"Hey!" Steve yells, trying to keep his voice as calm and low as possible, but still be heard.
He sees the guy's head snap towards him, towards the unexpected sound of another voice, and Steve waves his arms.
"Over here. Go slow."
The guy nods, and then: the ice breaks.
His spread eagle position keeps him from going straight down, and Steve watches as he catches himself on the ledge of the still frozen ice. It holds, and he keeps his head above the freezing water. He doesn't panic. He just holds himself there, breathing, trying to get himself under control. Trying to allow the shock of the freezing water to subside.
Good, that's good.
When he seems to settle, Steve paces, giving directions.
"Kick your feet out behind you!" Steve yells, and the guy's doing just that. He definitely knows the same things Steve knows about how to get out of this kind of situation. He doesn't need Steve's help, most likely. But it's not like Steve can turn his back. He's in this now, too. He's gotta make sure he gets out. Safe and sound.
The cracking is happening behind him, webbing out towards the middle of the lake. The ice at the shore is certainly thicker, and if he can just crawl out of that hole, can get on thicker ice again, then he can start easing himself to safety. Steve thinks it'll be okay. They can't panic. Either of them.
He's moving closer, testing the ice with his elbow, and it looks solid. Steve's sure of it. The guy gets on his hands and knees and crawls, and Steve paces anxiously on the shore. Like he's coaching at a pool's edge. He wants to go right out there and get him. That's the lifeguard in him, probably, but he knows better than to add any additional weight to the already compromised ice.
Eventually, he's close enough that Steve recognizes him: Eddie Munson.
Well, that's surprising.
"Fuck," Eddie says, hands reaching upwards, and Steve grabs a hold of both of them. Pulling him to his shaky feet. His hands are red, so red, and absolutely freezing. He wasn't in the water long, but it might not be a bad idea to get him checked out at the hospital.
"You okay?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. He's soaked, and Steve leads him towards his car, watching him carefully toddle on his skates across the uneven ground. Steve grabs a blanket from the trunk, and wraps it around Eddie's waist. Pushing him down into the passenger seat.
Kneeling at his feet, and carefully unlacing the heavy, waterlogged skates.
Eddie's teeth are chattering as Steve climbs into the driver's seat, cranking on the heat. Full blast.
"Hospital?" Steve asks, yanking the car into reverse, looking over his shoulder as he backs away from the lake.
"Hot shower," Eddie counters, and Steve nods.
"How'd you learn to skate?"
That's the biggest question Steve's had all day. Especially when he realized it was Eddie Munson. He couldn't have even pictured Eddie on roller skates.
"My mom," Eddie says quietly.
"You're good."
And he is.
"I know, Harrington," Eddie answers, "Just don't tell anyone or I'll kill you."
And Steve laughs. Okay. Sure.
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