Steve runs a small bakery and has quiet mornings he preps all the goods for the day. In his sacred and quiet times (like 3am without a soul around as he's measuring ingredients and rolling dough) he listens to an audiobook of a fantasy series Dustin had recommended to him.
And he's enthralled by it and a little more than obsessed with the narrator’s voice. The series has a revenge plot, mythical creatures, romance and some very spicy scenes. The narrator uses the perfect tones and tricks to keep him in the story. The personality the man packs into it- well Steve couldn’t imagine reading them on his own, not when he can have this instead. (This being a slight infatuation with the voice of some faceless man folding him into some fantasy realm).
Simultaneously his first customer of the day is always this long haired tattooed man. Who gruffly points to a pastry and barely says a word, and when he has it’s with a sleep filled disused voice. His rings glint in the light and his big doe eyes have Steve leaned into his space as he hands over his pastry of the morning.
Usually it’s still just Steve in the store when the first few customers trickle in, covered in flour and fillings, still wearing his goofy frilly apron Robin insisted on buying him.
Steve is in too deep to ask the man his name at this point in their interactions just mentally refers to him as tattoos and doesn’t think too hard on it.
He has his audiobook still playing on a winter morning when tattoos comes in. Faint snow starting to fall making it look magical outside as Steve is lost in the words being read to him.
The door chimes,
Tattoos points to a flaky pastry with cheddar and raspberry when he squints at Steve, his sleep gravelly voice roughly asks, “You like fantasy?”
Steve’s cheeks heat up as he turns off the audiobook, “Sorry, lost in another world. Yeah? I mean- yes, kinda my first foray into it. I was never a big reader but the way this one is told I look forward to my mornings to listen to more.”
The man gave him a breath taking smile at his response, dimples and endearing crowsfeet lighting up his features,
“Don’t let me keep you from it then.” He paid and made his way out of the shop.
One day it happens to be Dustin in the shop begging for freebies after a night out at the late night bars, hangover creeping in and wheedling Steve to make him a breakfast sandwich even though ‘those aren’t on the menu Dustin’.
When tattoos walks in at his usual time, thrown off by someone else being in the shop too. Their interactions had grown since he’d asked about what Steve was listening to.
Dustin almost swallows his tongue and chokes out his words, “Y-you’re Eddie Munson.” He whispers out in astonishment.
Tattoos looks caught out.
The name doesn’t click for Steve right away as he pushes a breakfast sandwich over to Dustin (sue him, he’s a sucker).
It isn’t until his favorite patron leaves, flustered and also with a breakfast sandwich Steve had made for himself but wrapped up for tattoos that Dustin screeches about how Steve has been serving pastries to his favorite fantasy author for months and Steve never told him.
It crashes into place then.
Steve’s customer crush and his audiobook narrator are one in the same.
Pt.2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 *complete as of 2/3/24❤️*
Eddie let his mind wander, his eyes were closed and his face was angled up toward the late summer sunshine. Humidity had broken a few short weeks ago and the tips of some of the trees were just starting to change to their autumnal hues. There was a crispness to the mornings that warmed through the late afternoon.
It was his favorite time of year.
He was embarrassed over his second go at senior year, but out here, in the forest clearing, at his picnic table he could get lost in this pocket of sunshine. Let his eyes stay blissfully shut as he soaked in the warmth as his mind rolled into a lovely day dream.
One where he wasn’t himself for awhile.
Or maybe just a different version of himself.
He heard someone’s presence, “Oh, sorry Munson.”
Eddie cracked his eyes open to look upon the intruder.
Steve Harrington stood drenched in the afternoon sunshine, ethereal and dreamlike in his own way, something softer about the jock from years prior.
Steve rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous gesture.
“Looking to buy?” Eddie prompted.
Steve paused, “I don’t think I’ve got enough cash on me, and I was just looking for some place quiet before basketball practice.”
Eddie gave himself a beat to really take in the other boy. He looked exhausted. Even a little haunted?
Eddie leaned back and basked in the warm glow of the sun as the wind swept through gently, “I can be quiet.”
Steve snorted in disbelief, “I’ll hold you to it.” He said as he settled on the bench opposite of Eddie.
Eddie couldn’t help himself, “You can hold me to anything, big boy.”
Steve shot him an unimpressed look.
Eddie mimed zipping his lips and closed his eyes again. Steve Harrington wasn’t much of a threat without his usual entourage. He looked bone-weary.
Moments passed into more time. The stillness weirdly companionable. Eddie’s mind wandered to a place where Steve knew of Corroded Coffin, maybe would cheer in a crowd for him, a rolling crowd leaving Steve’s body flushed. Cheeks pink and smile just for Eddie.
His brain sending him mixed signals as Steve snored lightly, head rested on his hands atop the picnic table. An oddly sacred thing to take in.
Eddie drank it in, this close he could see the purple of Steve’s under eyes as his eyelashes kissed his cheekbones.
The metal head pulled out a rolled joint from the breast pocket of his battle vest and slipped it under Steve’s hands.
plot bunny hopping around mercilessly in my silly little head:
eddie's a leatherworker who has gained an insane amount of traction for his craftsmanship through his goofy social media posts: some a 'day in the life', some of him showing off custom floggers, restraints, and collars, some of him modeling his wearable pieces (suspenders, jackets, vests).
he has fun with it, he's always been a bit of a ham, and loves working with his hands as well as educating about safe, consensual, and careful use of some of his more risque products.
he's been in the scene for a long time and some of the comments on his videos where he's showing off the buttery leather of a new flogger can get thirsty.
he takes it in stride, has a laugh, and smiles even bigger when his sales spike due to certain videos.
cue a new commission for custom restraints that starts an email correspondence with steve, a construction foreman who is fielding questions and overseeing building sites daily,
who shares he wants a more comfortable restraint for the few times a month he heads into the city to have someone make the decisions for him while he subs at a kink club to shut his mind off for a blissful evening.
and sparks an ongoing epistolary friendship about D/s relationships, about preferences and daydreams, about themselves; the safety of the screen making it somehow easier to share.
steve sending eddie a picture one of the club doms took of him using the new custom restraints eddie lovingly crafted--
eventually more customs filled between their correspondence.
more sharing between the two of them, eddie still not having fully seen steve aside from the arsty and mainly faceless photos sent his way of his leatherwork in use by steve.
eddie plans a kink safety and sales event in steve's city, steve goes radio silence, leaving eddie wondering if he overstepped, or misread their interactions and countless emails-
will steve be brave enough to show up and meet eddie in person?
plot bunny au for potential meet cute sporty/yogi!steve rockstar!eddie✨️:
What about…
Former MLB pitcher Steve- his life had been a pipeline of tee ball, little league, traveling teams leading him on the path to high school captain of the baseball team with a full ride to college and scouted for the major leagues. The kind of things some people only dreamed of-
Except his elbow was a wreck by the time he was creeping into his mid twenties.
The stray ball that slammed into said elbow had been his final straw of putting his body through repetitive abuse for a game he no longer loved in the same way; wasn’t sure the last time he truly felt that rush of passion for the American past time.
Three years later and Steve shifts gears:
He was laying in savasana, corpse pose, slowing his breathing from a restorative practice as his two chihuahuas pitter-pattered around him with one making her way onto his chest and laying her full bodyweight onto him as he continued his cycle of breaths.
“From here you can choose to stay in savasana for as long as you’d like, it seems buttercup is ready for attention, so I’ll start wiggling movement gently in my hands and feet. Slowly I’ll remove this sweet girl from my chest and roll to whichever side and incrementally push myself into a seated position.”
He did just that his hair in appealing disarray, in his dark green joggers and a Blondie tee shirt he had stolen from Robin eons ago.
“Now sit up tall, thanks for joining me in this practice today, and thank yourself for making time to do so- hands at heart center, one last cleansing breath in and out-“
He breathed in deep through his nose filling his lungs and stomach and cycled the air out of his mouth in an exaggerated exhale,
“Namaste.” Steve said as Buttercup and Teeny wagged their tails and trampled tiny paws into his lap and wrestled over one another to try and kiss his face.
The calm energy met with his loving critters had him let out a giggle before turning off the camera.
Yoga with Steve had become one of the most viewed at home yoga YouTube channels. Steve had never intended for it to be successful. It had started as something for him to connect with a community during his own journey of finding comfort in his body after so many years of punishing body conditioning.
It really blew up when he started incorporating his animal foster stories on his channel helping numerous four (or on occasion three) legged friends in the Chicagoland area get adopted into loving homes.
It turned out there was life after baseball.
Cue Rock star Eddie…
Eddie never dreamed that Corroded Coffin would be selling out mega venues and headlining festivals. He was close to thirty and years of giving his all on stage (and off) was catching up. He ached, he fatigued, fuck he'd given up drugs and alcohol three years ago (aside from weed) and still things wanted to catch up to him.
He felt like the tin fucking man.
Jesus H. Christ-
All of his bitching had his agent suggesting all kinds of body work and exercise- and Eddie barely had time to do things he wanted let alone something like having to exercise the chore of it had him wanting to rebel against it.
But he realized how good it felt pre-show to shake out his body and lean into some easy stretches. Liam, who only really put on the Freak persona onstage had caught the change in Eddie’s routine,
“Here, I sent you a link, that one’s only like twenty minutes but it’s a nice beginner flow.”
Eddie furrowed his eyebrows and opened the text from his friend and band mate, Yoga with Steve popped up,
“You know I don’t…like do yoga. Very granola, hell I can barely touch my toes.”
Liam leveled him with a calm gaze, “Yeah, the point is to work on yourself, small goals, Ed. Maybe by winter you’ll be able to touch your toes.” He shrugged and wandered off.
Eddie forgot about the link.
Until a few days later his calves were tight and his entire body felt on the verge of a charley horse, they had been three nights on and today was a rest day. He pulled himself out of bed and opened the link.
And-
Holy shit—
Liam didn’t mention the guy was hot.
All perfectly messy hair and pronounced cupids bow.
Eddie did the entire twenty minute beginner video. It was the right level of challenging and relaxing, the smooth-voiced banter and light joking made it better, somehow more accessible for a self proclaimed non yoga person like Eddie.
He laid on his back and laughed at the name of corpse pose as his body felt less like a cramp and lighter than it had in awhile, also his mind felt less buzzing.
He watched the array of videos, learned about Steve being an ex pro baseball player and an animal advocate.
What he learned the most was the way Steve’s lightly toned stomach looked when he did any poses that sent his arms above his head and his often cropped tops to expose an unfair expanse of temptingly mole dotted skin.
Eddie’s own back popped satisfyingly as he followed along with a new upload he grinned as he watched the man’s just as beloved to his channel chihuahuas do their own expert versions of downward dog.
Steve ended the session as he always did with savasana and sitting back up for the last cleansing breath.
“Today I’ve got a four pup litter up for adoption and as many Chicagoans are talking about Riot Fest I decided to get inspired by it for their names!”
He popped back on screen with four black and white spotted wriggling and awe-inducing puppies:
“Now my friend helped me for the who’s who of Corroded Coffin one of the headliners playing the fest to get them the right names for the right personalities, here’s Gareth the sweet one, Jeff the strong silent type, Liam or Freak the surprisingly tame one, and Eddie-“
The last puppy was letting out a tiny awooo noise before squirming in Steve’s arms and licking his face,
“Eddie the wild card! He’s a little comedian, anyways folks let’s get these babies adopted!”
Eddie sat and replayed the end of the video.
Yoga with Steve was in Chicago.
Eddie would soon be in Chicago.
He took to his twitter; he couldn’t not help get his namesake adopted!
And if this gave him the perfect opportunity to meet Steve, that was just icing on the cake.
i just think it'd be cuuute, but i have no real brain capacity to do it, steve as a chihuahua owner my beloved.
title from Stevie Nicks & Tom Petty, Stop Draggin' My Heart Around
March Prompt: @steddiemicrofic
E | 453 | Ride | 80s, no upside down, rockstar!eddie bartender!steve, not super graphic toes the line on M/E for rating.
The crop top rode up higher as Steve procured a bottle from the top shelf. Not a lot of people came into this kind of club requesting the good stuff. Especially on karaoke night, most folks wanted to get drunk on minimum wage.
“Okay, big spender,” Steve said as he turned to face the admittedly hot guy at the bar.
Aforementioned hot guy regaining his own composure after clearly being caught checking out Steve. Voilà, Steve thought to himself, Robin's homemade tailoring working again to help Steve pay his rent. That’s why he held onto the bartending job. Nothing beat fast cash.
Steve placed the expensive bottle of whiskey down in front of the patron and cocked his hip a bit more saucily with a smirk playing at his lips. The guy was doe-eyed and heavily tattooed, his eyes now catching Steve’s after being ripped away from taking in the ample sliver of toned flesh on display.
His features softened, “You like Fleetwood?” nodding to Steve’s top.
Steve grinned, Fleetwood Mac was a band he and Robs always agreed on.
“Yeah, a witch like Nicks, what’s not to like?”
The man had dimples when he smiled, “Couldn’t agree more, on the rocks please, sweetheart.”
Steve prepared the drink over ice and scoffed at the sweetheart, he wanted to hate it but coming from this guy it made his insides squirm in a delicious I wanna ride your cock way.
The man’s eyebrows went up innocently, “What you don’t like sweetheart?”
He slid the man his drink. He glanced down at Steve’s lips, the attention intoxicating on it’s own, “I prefer Steve.”
“Steve I think you might be the sweetest thing I’ve seen in awhile.”
He stood, blushing over the stupid line.
“Eddie!” The name broke the moment as a petite blonde wrapped arms around Eddie, “I was looking for you, Gareth already signed up, and I’m pretty sure threw your name in too.”
Eddie groaned and winked at Steve as he trailed his friend now dragging him closer to the karaoke stage.
Steve sent a cheeky finger wave his way. The names Gareth and Eddie rolling around in his mind in a familiar way.
Regulars kicked off the night with Madonna and Prince, a horrendous Whitney Houston had the crowd cheering and howling with laughter.
When the guys got up for a duet of Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around, it hit him, Dustin would lose his shit he loved Corroded Coffin.
“A little Stevie for my sweet Stevie.”
Eddie ended up with a lapful of Steve, t-shirt held between his teeth as Eddie toyed with his nipples and tried not to come too fast.
Steve ended up getting the ride he’d envisioned earlier.
1.2k | G | modern au, falling in love, pure freakin fluff because it felt needed today.
Washed up rock star Eddie looking to reignite meaning into his life decides to buy a run down farm on one hundred acres of land back in Indiana. He finds it some level of hilarious when he finds acreage for sale in Wayne County, calling his Uncle Wayne when the deal is done.
“Hell, kid, not sure what yer getting up to with all this,” Wayne admonished fondly.
“Midlife crisis, I guess.” Eddie answered back a little too honest and raw.
The next few months are a whirlwind. Corroded Coffin had been on indefinite hiatus for over two years when he made the purchase. Jeff was producing music out in New York, Gareth found his way back to the Midwest and was working in Chicago playing percussion in the goddamn Orchestra, and Freak had stayed in L.A. as a bit of an underground influencer and some nameless DJ in the resurging rave scene.
And Eddie,
He was knee deep in mud and debris as he tried his best to build a chicken coop. The old farmhouse had a decent face lift of it's own that Eddie felt comfortable in, his big splurge was a luxury bathroom with a large tub. The rest of the home was more restored to its original roots than anything else. His phone ringing with a FaceTime from his Uncle, Eddie debated answering and gave in before the call ended.
Wayne took him in and started laughing, “D’ya even know how to use those tools, boy? Maybe hire someone to give ya a hand. Old man like me wouldn’t be too useful but I know someone.”
Eddie insisted he wanted to do this himself.
“What if he’s more of a guide for this? Helps ya through it, someone who knows his way around a toolbox…and a…jeez kid, you getting chickens?”
Eddie groaned to himself and gives in. There’s something equal parts patronizing and comforting when Wayne calls him kid. Eddie was thirty-eight with three Grammy nominees and one win under his belt and clueless.
Two days later had a big forest green pick-up truck coming onto his property, the guy hopping out had sunglasses obscuring his face, but his body was solid and toned in a way that made Eddie ache to be physical. He cleared his throat as he approached.
The guy shoved the sunglasses atop his head, moving the tousled bronze hair off his face and revealing clear amber eyes, a strong jaw, and moles dotted on his skin almost artfully placed. Eddie had never seen cargo pants look sexy on anyone, but this right here? On this man—pornographic.
He nodded in Eddie’s direction, “Nice plot of land you’ve got here.”
His smile laid back and easy as his eyes landed on Eddie.
Eddie wasn’t going to survive this.
Because in the next few weeks Steve was there all the time. In his fitted white tee shirts that got dirtier as the day wore on and his stupid cargo pants, and his teasing insults always starting with ‘hey rockstar…’
One day Steve showed up with a trailer attached to his truck, “Hey man, I’ve got a question for you and I don’t mean to put you in a bad spot, you can say no.”
Eddie had never really seen Steve frazzled and today that’s what he was, hair a mess in no artful way and dark circles smudged under his usually bright eyes.
“What can I say no to?” Eddie joked back as he twisted his hair up into a messy bun.
Steve’s eyes tracked the movement, something Eddie had been catching onto, the way Steve sometimes looked at him.
Steve cleared his throat and gathered his thoughts, “So I do a lot of odd jobs on the farms out here, and uh, unfortunately a few months ago old man Hagan passed and his son was supposed to be taking care of the property…and well I stopped by yesterday, and he’s just… gone. Left the place for I don’t know how long and well, Betty just deserves so much better, she was all alone out there, he must’ve sold the horses but poor Betty—”
Eddie cut him off, “And who’s Betty?”
Steve tugged at hand through his hair, “Oh, yes, um right, let me get her…”
Steve opened the door of the trailer as a slightly underfed donkey trotted out. Her muzzle whiskery as she snorted at them she approached, directly to Eddie with a sweet whinnying noise.
“He just left her?” Eddie asked, already feeling like a sucker, she was adorable.
Steve nodded.
Eddie’s purpose aligned without him knowing.
Betty was the first rescue on what became Hellfire Sanctuary, a ranch dedicated to rehoming abandoned farm animals or giving them a forever place to spend their days. Eddie knew what it was like to be given up, luckily he had Wayne in those years, but he still knew the feeling. The Jennie’s big brown eyes and long lashes tugged at his heartstrings.
Through the build outs and all the property fencing Steve was there.
Navigating a half functioning farm come winter months and Steve was there.
The sign being placed above the opening gate Steve was there.
On Eddie’s worst and best days Steve was there.
The chickens clucked happily in their coop as Eddie tossed the feed in, he used to just be going to bed at five in the morning…and now he was feeding animals and humming tunes to himself as he made the morning rounds.
The sun was starting to peek over his property, a golden glow making the dew clinging to grass seem to sparkle like the most precious jewels, he heard the familiar engine of Steve’s truck as it pulled up the path and parked.
Bingo bounded out of his vehicle and over to Eddie, the Blue Heeler’s whole behind wriggled with excitement as he approached, Steve’s smile seemed even more stunning than the sunrise.
Eddie set down the food pail as he gave Bingo some love.
Steve looked over the property, “Perfect morning, what a slice of heaven, huh?”
Eddie stood back up next to Steve, “Yeah, didn’t know this was what I was missing.”
“Is that right, rockstar?” Steve breathed out.
“I almost have everything a guy could want.”
“Almost?” Steve whispered between them as the animals fed and stirred, birds chirping, and the sound of the close by river moving lazily.
Eddie’s guts felt twisted on the precipice of the moment, his pinky knocked against Steve’s. His heart jackrabbiting beneath his ribcage as Steve hooked his pinky against Eddie’s.
“If you want it, it’s yours.” Steve moved his hand to hold Eddie’s properly.
Such an innocent gesture and Eddie had never been so winded in his life.
“I’m yours.” Steve breathed out into the summer morning, sun climbing up, and a property that was because of them.
Eddie turned and looked at Steve, his eyes tracking over the features of Steve’s face. He leaned in and kissed him. Months accumulated into over a year of fixing this place together, of finding it's purpose. Late nights and early mornings, learning how to care for the land and the animals he had taken in.
I was working on a couple wips this weekend but then yesterday this little idea took hold, just a sweet little au!meetcute to kickstart your monday 🥰🧡:
title: The Bangles, Manic Monday
wc 988 | G | single parent!steve, garbage man!eddie
Monday had never been Steve’s favorite day of the week. He suspected that was true for most people. That was all before though.
Before Ty turned two.
Before Steve’s divorce.
Before becoming a single parent.
Before he moved back to Hawkins.
Because now Monday was the day they anticipated, Tyler was creeping up on three quickly and his main interests were trucks, their dog Twigs, his auntie Robin; and did Steve mention trucks? The bigger the better, and ones with a purpose? Whoa buddy, don’t get him started.
Ty was enamored by the garbage truck, and Monday’s were garbage collection day. When he turned two Robin had found a few decent trucks to gift Ty, or at the time twucks (which would never not be cute to Steve), the kid played with the fire truck, the construction truck, but the loud noise and fun mechanism of the garbage truck struck his little toddler fancy and had stayed steadfast in his admiration.
Sunday evenings Ty ‘helped’ gather their bountiful offerings for the week and bring the bins to the end of the driveway with Steve. Moving back to Hawkins had been something he didn’t know would help settle him so much, he was a longshot from the nicer neighborhood he had grown up in but he’d been able to rent a small ranch close to the town center, it was walking distance to the library and a few local parks. Everything he really needed for the chapter of life he was in.
He and Ty were becoming familiar faces. Waving at neighbors and making small talk at the grocery. It was nice, even keeled, Steve was trying his best to set some foundations for his little family.
This particular Monday morning didn’t start off any different. Ty was up and (im)patiently awaiting the loud rumble from outside to alert him that the garbage truck was on their block, coming to their house, Steve couldn’t help but indulge him. Who knew if by this time next year Ty no longer garnered this excitement for such a mundane weekly happening.
The spring morning still held a chill but Steve didn’t mind holding onto his warm coffee mug as he and Ty made their way to the end of the driveway, ready to greet Martin to kick start their week—
But today, it wasn’t Martin.
This man was much younger. He wore the same uniform and workman’s gloves, but he had long wavy hair underneath his Waste Management baseball hat. He hopped out of the truck to rearrange their bins as Ty went hurdling towards him.
Steve close behind in his cozy slippers, still wearing his gold wire framed glasses as he reached out with the hand not holding his coffee mug to grab onto his kid.
The man froze looking at them, wide-eyed and playful expression, “Whoa! Is this Ty’s house?! Marty let me know there’s a very important truck inspector on this route.”
He had a rich voice and a hint of tattoos peeking out from anywhere skin was visible. He crouched down to Tyler’s level after pulling off his gloves to reach out and shake Steve’s son’s little grubby hand, “I’m Ty! I love your truck! Where’s Martin?”
The garbage man glanced up at Steve as he held back his laughter, the effort making dimples start to take form in his cheeks. Steve felt speechless at this non-Martin Monday revelation. The man was good looking, and being kind to his kid.
Shit, the combination felt deadly.
“I’m Eddie, I’ll be filling in for Marty for a couple’a weeks on his route, that okay with you, boss?”
Ty giggled and shook Eddie’s hand enthusiastically before letting go, “Yeah,” He looked back to Steve, “That’s okay, right daddy?”
The man, Eddie, looked up at Steve too, still crouched on Ty’s level. A smirk danced over his features, “This okay, daddy?” The man asked impishly.
Steve almost choked on his saliva. He caught himself and cleared his throat, “Any friend of Martin’s is a friend of ours.”
Ty cheered happily as Eddie stood back up to his full height, a bit taller than Steve as he tugged his gloves back on, “Well, you boys ready to see her in action?”
“Her?” Ty piped up.
“Yeah, my lovely lady.” Eddie held his hands up as if presenting a gold trophy and not just the garbage truck.
“Does she have a name?” Ty asked.
Eddie tilted his head inquisitively, “Hmm, you know what, you should help me name her.”
“ROBIN!” Ty exclaimed.
Eddie pretended to be blown back by the force of his words.
Steve barked out a laugh, “Ah, yes, Auntie Robs will love having a garbage truck with her namesake.”
“Robin it is, now wanna watch me put her to work, big boy?” Eddie said, locking eyes with Steve with a hint of flirtation.
Was that flirtation? Steve was so far out of the game he wasn’t totally sure. It felt like it.
“Yes! The front load dumpster!” Ty cheered.
Steve sipped his coffee and kept his gaze steady with the other man.
Eddie broke the eye contact and looked back to Ty, “And the boss knows the right names for the truck parts, Marty wasn’t joking around!”
Eddie tipped his hat to Ty and shot a wink at Steve causing a slow heat to creep up to his cheeks before making his way back to the truck, “Prepare to be awed!”
Ty clapped as he watched their trash empty out into the large bin compartment and Eddie give a big wave before heading to the next house.
Steve finally ushered the small boy back inside all while thinking about deep brown eyes and flirty glances. His coffee must not have kicked in yet, because he felt a little insane, even moreso he hoped to get a glimpse of Eddie next week.
He supposed he had another reason to anticipate Monday’s now.
working on something else but went to an antique mall today and...well...
980 words | T language | au meetcute pre steddie & buckingham
The old jukebox flips to another song as Eddie winds through the aisles trying to catch a glimpse of a bouncy ponytail. Chrissy had dragged him along to a few different antique malls and he was nearing his capacity.
He was hungry.
He needed caffeine.
He needed a nap.
His attention was captured by someone coming up next to him, “Looking for anything specific?”
Eddie turned to a woman about his height. Choppy light brown bob, freckles, and an eclectic style grabbed his eye, “Yeah, a strawberry blonde about yea high-“ He held his hand to indicate Chrissy’s height, “Flitting around on a mission for lighting fixtures.”
The woman grinned back to him, “I think I can point you in the right direction, I’m Robin, not here to steer you wrong. I work here.”
“Eddie,” He introduced himself, “Unwilling participant in this endless madness for the perfect lamp.”
She hummed in acknowledgment as she gestured for him to follow, which he did like a lost duckling. He recounted the places they’d already been to during the day.
“Don’t bother with Martin’s Market unless you want to be price gouged anyway.” She tossed in as they rounded a corner.
“Really? Are there rivalries in the antique business?” Eddie’s interest was piqued.
Robin snorted, “Honestly? It’s a small community, shit can be brutal, cut throat even.”
She pointed to an entire section of furniture and some of the most beautiful glass light fixtures Eddie had seen all day on this quest. He then saw his petite friend wave at him with an intensity he wasn’t expecting, “Eddie! Where’d you go?! I finally found it!” her voice triumphant as Eddie headed closer, Robin trailing behind.
“The colors tie in the room with the fireplace perfectly.” She said with a note of awe in her voice, “Right? Maybe we can switch out the rug in the honeymoon suite?”
Eddie nodded and cleared his throat, “Chris this is Robin, she works here.”
Chrissy then realized they weren’t alone her lips made a circular shape as she let out a small huff of the word, “oh.”
Eddie saw the blush rise under Robin’s freckles.
Of fucking course Chrissy would fall in love in an antique store.
“Here’s tickets for your finds just place the numbers on what you’d like and come up front for me, or my colleague to get you all set.” She said what was probably her usual spiel a little breathlessly before turning tail and heading to the front.
Eddie raised his eyebrows at Chrissy who was still watching Robin’s retreating form. He poked her in the arm,
“Hey, no need to get handsy.” She reprimanded.
“sure, sure, just wanting to bring you back to reality Chris. The reality that you’re opening a bed and breakfast in two weeks and you’re still decorating.” Eddie contributed.
Chrissy folded her arms and pinned him with a look, “I can be both productive-“ she pointed to the lamp, “and realize I just saw the most attractive woman in this small mountain town.”
Eddie put his hands up, accepting defeat. He let Chrissy win more often than not. It’s how he found himself here about to help open the bed and breakfast with his best friend. The kitchen was his domain and he was all stocked up, ordered, and ready to go.
“We ready, I think this is the most progress we’re making today.” He shook his hair out, the place was stuffy and Eddie was getting crabby.
“Okay you overgrown poodle, head up front let me just glance at the rugs.” Chrissy shooed him off.
Eddie froze once he came back up front. There was a man using a magnifying glass to look at something small in the palm of his hand, a ring. Or maybe a coin?
Eddie couldn’t bring himself to move with the onslaught of swooping copper hair and wire rimmed glasses. Even from this distance Eddie could just tell the man had nice hands.
Chrissy snuck up on him and grabbed his waist causing Eddie to jump and bite off a noisy yelp. The man’s head snapped up as Chrissy whispered, “Edward, see something you like?”
He glared at Chrissy as the man cleared his throat, “Anything I can help you with?”
Chrissy gave Eddie a smug look, “Oh, Eddie was just enjoying some of the one of a kind pieces in the shop. Robin was actually helping me earlier.”
The man’s clear whiskey eyes met his, “Oh? Is that right? Let me go get Robs for ya.”
He went through a backroom door that allowed Eddie to take in the perfect curve of the man’s ass. Chrissy poked him in the ribs, hard.
There was muffled arguing coming from behind the door-
‘Steve, shut up, she’s stunning the fuck am I supposed to do. Be like sorry I’m a mess and even though you’re with your husband wanna go on a date?’
‘Hope it’s not her husband. I’d let him-‘
An audible crash rang out followed by more complaining.
“I think I like antiquing.” Eddie said sheepishly the two exchanging an owl eyed look while they tried not to eavesdrop.
Chrissy gave him a toothy smile as both employees came back out from the back room.
Eddie let out a small cough before walking forward, “Hey handsome.” He placed his ringed fingers on the countertop and pointed to his left ring finger, “Not married.”
He pointed to himself and Chrissy, “We’re new in town, opening a B and B.”
Robin stammered out, “How much did-“ She scrubbed a hand down her face, “Could you hear?”
The other man’s cheeks reddened.
Eddie let his eyes rake over him, “All of it.”
The man, Steve’s, eyes went impossibly wide, “All of it?”
Chrissy stepped forward and smiled softly at Robin, “I do, wanna go on a date, if you’re still askin’.”
Maybe this sleepy town wouldn’t be so dead after all.
