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summary: christmas. pep rallies. facing feelings. but he doesn't remember... right?
warnings: slow burn, 18+ mdni, reader's parents are terrible, reader and eddie celebrate christmas, braless!reader, everyone say hello to a familiar face!!, reader is jealous and irritable, nervous ticks, confessions, discussions of oral sex, discussions of virginity, reader is a virgin but has done other stuff, cliffhanger, saving some warnings due to possible spoilers so tread lightly <3
a/n: hey lovers, long time no see <333 sorry this took so long! next chapter is mapped out and half written so hopefully not a crazy a gap between them. please like and reblog! show your fic writers some love <3
Christmas came quicker than you would have liked.
You work on Christmas Eve with your Mom, taking the longer shift so she could “go home and wrap presents”.
If there was one thing you knew about your Mother, it is that she did not buy you a single thing worth having. She was a terrible gift giver and used that to her advantage.
You wake up late on Christmas morning, rubbing the tired out of your eyes. Your Mom and Dad sat on the couch, watching A Christmas Story, which happened to be the only movie they played on cable television on Christmas since it came out in ‘83.
Your Mom hands you an envelope with a huge smile plastered across her face.
“Merry Christmas, baby girl.”
You open it up and see that it is a bumper sticker. Your arms drop in annoyance, which does not wipe that stupid smile off her face. “Mom! Really?”
“Look at it!”
You flip the sticker and see that it’s an Indiana State University sticker. She smiles even brighter when your face does not change from the irked expression you are displaying.
Your Dad chuckles, swatting at your leg. You flinch at the sick smile plastered on his face, “For your new car, when you get one.”
You look between them, wanting nothing more than to flip the coffee table and hide away in your room. They are obviously trying to insinuate something, and they are getting off on you being pissed about it. Indiana State was the last college you wanted to attend, even though you applied there. It was simply the backup to the backup plan. And you have told them that countless times.
They did not think you were good enough for anything more. They wanted to keep you here, helpless.
As you slam the envelope and sticker down on the counter to make yourself a cup of orange juice, you hear a knock at your front door. You assume it’s just one of your Dad’s stupid friends, coming to bear more beer or cigarettes, all in the name of the holiday spirit. But when your Mom opens the door, she shifts away with confusion.
“Mr. Munson, what do we owe the pleasure?”
Eddie’s voice comes from behind the door, “Looking for your daughter, is she awake yet?”
You push off the counter, coming to the front door. You wedge yourself between him and your Mom as she peers at him, conflicted. You look up at Eddie, a chill coming from the outside December air. Your Mom slowly backs away, letting you hold onto the edge of the door as Eddie leans forward, his arms behind his back.
You had not talked to him much since Christmas break started. He invited you over to smoke, but you declined, not wanting to have loose lips around him any time soon. You could tell by the way he behaved around you lately that he knew something had happened the night of the Corroded Coffin show. You did not entertain his questions, opting to try to avoid breaking your own heart.
Because at the end of the day, it was a drunken confession that probably was not meant to come out. You wanted to save yourself the embarrassment of asking him if it was actually true, only for it not to be.
You still had the pressing feeling it was true, but you could not risk any more humiliation this year, maybe in the New Year when you got accepted to Northwestern and had an out. You could escape the awkwardness by moving a couple of states away.
“Merry Christmas, sunshine,” He practically whispers, his brown locks significantly messier than usual.
“Merry Christmas,” You reply, trying to close the door a bit more behind you so your parents could not eavesdrop. “What’s up?”
He moves his hands forward, a small, badly-wrapped box in the middle of his right palm. “I got you a present.”
It makes you shut the door behind you completely, standing in the freezing cold with Eddie all wrapped up in his leather jacket while you are still in your pajama shirt. The frigid rush of air goes up your shirt as you reach out to grab the gestured gift.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” You gripe, trying to act bothered that he thought of you. When in actuality, the familiar rush of butterflies settles in your stomach. He looks excited as you slowly pull at the paper. When you open the small white box he so kindly wrapped for you, your mouth slowly drops.
It’s a gold necklace with a circular red gemstone hanging from the chain. You pick it up, holding it up to the gray overcast sky, admiring it with awe. “Eddie…”
He is beaming when you finally look at him, like he just achieved his greatest feat.
“I got it from the antique store where I buy my rings,” He explains, holding out his hands so you can get a close look at them. You know those rings better than you know your own jewelry collection. “You like it?”
You quirk a smile, your heart racing, your mouth getting dry.
“I love it,” Your eyes bore into his as he steps down onto one of your front stoop steps. You hand him the box again, putting the necklace between two fingers. “Hold this. I’m gonna put it on.”
He grabs the wrapping paper and box, his soft smile reflecting his excitement that you are thrilled to put on the gift he picked out for you. “Model it for me. I’m sure it’s going to look great.”
You fiddle with the clasp when you get it around your neck, finally locking it around your throat. The stone rests perfectly on your chest, right where you can look down and see it. You glance back up at Eddie, and his face is now virtually unreadable.
It is almost close to the face he made when he told you that you did not have to like him back in the car.
He cannot pull his eyes away from the stone, lying perfectly on your braless chest.
Oh.
You fold your arms over your upper half, acting like you are freezing. But it’s mainly to shield your hardened peaks poking through your shirt.
“Well, thank you, Eddie. I-uh…” You look away, shifting your eyes down the street before nodding awkwardly, “Merry Christmas, and I’ll see you later?”
He steps down one more step, a hint of a smirk on his face, “Uh, yeah. See you later. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
-
When you come back to school, you come to the realization that Winter Break made people forget about you. When you walk the halls, everyone seems uninterested. It is a huge sigh of relief as you get to your locker, and not one person has said anything to you.
Monday goes by without a hitch, your peers being split between being thrilled to see their friends again or dreading the day they were born due to being back in school.
Tuesday would be where you get back into your groove of normalcy. You think.
Eddie parted ways with you as soon as he got to school, telling you that he had to go get an amp from Gareth’s car. You did not bother sticking around in the cold, instead choosing the warmth of Hawkins High’s stuffy hallways.
There was an announcement over the intercom that every student had to go to the pep rally being held in the big gym. You gather your notebook for first period with an annoyed huff and head in that direction.
As you muddled through the crowd, you felt an aggressive push to your shoulder. Your stomach tenses at the thought that you may have assumed people’s disinterest in you a bit too quickly. Instead, you look back and see a girl in her band uniform, stumbling into just about everyone. She has a large plastic briefcase pressed against her chest. You recognized her as a girl from one of your classes last year, but you could not pin down her name in your brain.
“I-I’m sorry, did I hit you?” Her shaky voice told you all you needed to know. She seemed nervous and a bit discombobulated.
“Yeah,” you quip, stopping as everyone in front of you halted to converge into the double doors that led into the gym.
She lets out an exaggerated huff, her hot breath fanning the back of your neck. “Of course I forget this shit is happening. Who has a pep rally right after winter break? So stupid.”
You manage a laugh, finding her ramblings quite relieving. It was also just a relief that she was not one of Kacey’s minions.
“And here I am, hitting random upperclassmen with my French horn. Jesus.”
You turn to her, quirking up one of your eyebrows, “French horn?”
She lifts the case, smacking a guy next to her in the arm. You cannot help but giggle as you watch the boy’s face crinkle in annoyance as he smacks away from the ungraceful band nerd.
“First girl at Hawkins High to play it,” She remarks, a smile creeping across her freckled face. You practically trade spots with the short guy she hit, offering your ear to her long-winded explanation. “My dad wanted me to get into the arts, but I am horrible at drawing. And we all came to that conclusion when I was only five. So he went to the pawn shop on Main Street and bought me the cheapest instrument they had.”
You do not know why the weird ones always gravitate to you, but you were actually growing quite fond of people occupying more of the conversation. You were completely okay with just listening, even though this girl was practically a stranger. She tried to run you down, and suddenly, you two are talking like you had been friends since childhood.
She looks to you, her mouth curled into a half smile. “I’m Robin, by the way. I’m pretty sure we had Art together last year.”
That’s right. She sat at Kacey’s table.
“I remember you,” you say before repeating your name for her, fearful she probably forgot your name like you forgot hers. Kacey used to say how she was over the top and a bit strange, but you thought her style was kind of cool. You remember staring at a pair of navy blue Converse she doodled all over while tuning out a lesson on the color wheel.
As she rambles on, she gestures for you to enter the gym before her. You turn to her, giving her your undivided attention because you feel like you have to. She was practically forcing you into a conversation that you did not mind sticking around for.
“Well, I have to go get yelled at by the band director, but it was nice chatting with you! Maybe I’ll see you around and bother you more with French horn facts,” As she finishes her sentence, you can smell that familiar cologne mixed with cigarettes waft from behind you. It’s like you had a magnet in your back pocket that he was attracted to. She looks over your shoulder, offering him a smile. “Hey, Eddie.”
You feel his chest press into your back as you stand off to the side of the bleachers occupied by underclassmen. “How’s it going, Buckley?”
She stumbles over her own feet as she turns away, all the while gesturing to her horn. “Bad. But it’ll be fine, I’m sure. Did you bring the Sour Patch Kids you owe me?”
Eddie’s laugh rumbles in his chest, and you can feel it on your shoulder blade. He’s painfully close to you, consuming all of your personal space. “Sure did, but you’ll have to wait for third period. They are in my locker.”
You haven’t even looked up at him, silently contemplating their conversation as Robin cackles as she walks away. “Cool! Later, dumbass!”
Once she’s out of sight, you feel Eddie’s fingers trace the back of your hand. Your mouth goes dry the moment he grabs your wrist and ushers you around to a set of stairs.
“You making friends with the band kids now, sunshine?”
You finally look back at him, squinting like you are trying to get him in focus. “She hit me with her horn.”
After about ten paces forward, he releases his grip on you and gestures for you to go up the bleachers. “She’s a klutz, so that tracks. Nice girl, though.”
You feel a pang of jealousy. Nice girl?
Robin was a nerd, for sure. But she was cool enough, and anyone with eyes could see that she was pretty. And they are sharing candy with one another in class? Why had Eddie never mentioned her before? Was he hiding his friendship with her because it was more than friendship?
Your brain is spinning. You almost trip up the stairs, too distracted in your own spiral to realize that Eddie’s hand is on your lower back, guiding you up. Your brain is working overtime trying to rationalize everything. Eddie is allowed to have friends. He’s allowed to talk to other girls. He’s allowed to have a life outside of you.
But his hand is touching your back.
Your mouth tastes sour, and you know your expression is probably reflecting your internal struggle.
The rest of Hellfire are already sitting at the very top, furthest away from the cheerleaders and jocks, which you are thankful for because you can feel some eyes tracking you and Eddie as you walk up the bleachers.
You finally get to the end of the bench of nerds, with Jeff welcoming you to take a seat in the far corner next to Gareth and Grant.
Eddie is like a shadow, immediately crowding your confined space on the bench. His belt chain rests on your thigh as he adjusts himself. He and Jeff mutter something about the crowd of people below you, but you choose to lock your eyes on the podium in the middle of the gymnasium.
You start to fiddle with your necklace. It became a new habit to curve the tension that built up in your chest sometimes.
You are not even paying attention to the way Eddie is looking over at you while acting like he’s listening to Jeff ramble on and on about the campaign.
Eddie’s shoulder rubs against yours, intentional this time. “You okay?”
You stop twirling your chain between your fingers. “What?”
“You seem tense,” Eddie remarks, his eyes tracing your apprehensive expression down to your necklace. A smile cracks across his face when he notices you messing with his gift.
You shake your head, feigning confusion. You know Eddie is probably the best at seeing through your lies. It was becoming his curse. You were also just not good at hiding your emotions on your face. You wore your feelings on a huge lit-up billboard on your forehead.
“Just sitting here,” You place your hand on your thigh, now toying with the silver chain that still lies across your lap. Eddie looks down, that smile only growing as you mess with his random accessory. You twirl it between your fingers, trying to use it as a distraction from the bitter taste in your mouth.
It may not mean anything. He can have friends. Guys can have friends who are girls.
He was your friend. It was possible.
But these feelings you had, God, they were not just friendly. And each day that went by, the pit in your stomach only expanded, taking up more and more space. The moment he said something to you, his voice a bit higher in pitch when he spoke to you specifically, you felt the pit get deeper. The invested eyes he gave you when you talked about something completely random, those deep, dark brown doe eyes, only widened the pit.
He was virtually consuming you from the inside out.
Those nuclear feelings you had were going to eviscerate you eventually. You thought expressing them out loud to him would have helped, but it seems that entire conversation is long forgotten and only made things a thousand times worse.
He broke you out of your trance, grabbing the chain away from you and poking your thigh, “I meant to ask you this morning, but do you mind if we make a stop after school today?”
You peer up at him, realizing he has only gotten closer since the last time you glanced at him. It seems like more kids are squishing together in this section, pushing you closer to Gareth and even closer to Eddie. He leans in to whisper in your ear, “Gotta work something out with a guy I buy from.”
His breath fans against your pulse point, and you feel a rush of heat flood between your legs. Keep it together, woman.
“Drugs?” You sigh, trying to keep your voice low. His mouth twists into a smile, still close to your jaw, and you swear you see fuzziness in your vision. Being this close to him was sending your senses into overload.
His thigh is flush with yours. You gape at the crack of your blue jeans and his black ripped jeans practically fusing together. Before he can respond, the principal approaches the podium and sets up his notes.
He gets even closer, if that’s even possible without touching your ear with his lips, “You can stay in the car, I just need to get there before my guy leaves for a couple of days.”
You grit your teeth, not loving the idea of being a part of Eddie’s illegal activities. You didn’t work today, so it was not like it was interfering with your schedule. So what would be your excuse for inconveniencing him?
You just nod, pursing your lips like you are not paying much attention to the conversation anymore.
The principal welcomes everyone to the pep rally with a roaring voice. Everyone pretends to be interested, except for you. You are far more fascinated with the way Eddie’s nose brushes against the curve of your ear. You side-eye him, trying to gauge if he’s still paying attention to you. You catch him staring at your side profile, his eyes looking heavier than usual.
You do not dare look back over at him. You act like you do not see him and glance over at Gareth. His eyes are locked forward, his arms crossed as if he’s disassociating from the entire situation. You try to match his energy, wedging your hands between your thighs as the band starts playing its normal pep music. When there’s a break in between music and speeches, you notice something different.
Eddie has a new ring.
You cannot look away. His left ring finger is adorned with something different. The skull ring that was usually there was replaced with a more polished-looking ring. The overhead lights graze the gem in the middle, igniting its color.
It matches your necklace.
You practically stop breathing.
It had to be a coincidence. There was no way he intentionally got you a necklace to match the ring he wore on his left ring finger.
His fingers twitch. You look over at him, seeing his dark brown eyes boring into yours. It’s almost as if he read your mind, his expression so knowing of what’s rattling around in your brain. You feel a head rush almost immediately as your cheeks heat up from embarrassment.
He doesn’t say anything, just slightly smirks at the shift in your demeanor.
-
So much for returning to normalcy starting on Tuesday.
You took a test in math and then had to face the horror of the Hawkins High cafeteria. Where you would sit next to Eddie. Where you would have to act like you weren’t still thinking about his ring. About how he called Robin a nice girl.
You were not doing well.
Your skin prickled with goosebumps the moment you sat down next to Gareth. Eddie had not shown up yet, probably grabbing his lunch before he did his usual dramatic display of slamming his tray down and complaining about whatever was on the menu.
Gareth’s voice brings you out of the reverie: “Eddie bought you that necklace.”
He says it like it’s a statement, not a question. You shoot him an unimpressed look, trying not to snap too quickly. After the conversation at The Hideout, you realized Gareth’s eagle eye was always watching you two. It’s like he’s taking personal bets as to when one of you would cave. Little did he know, it had already happened. And only one of you remembers.
“How do you know?” You press, propping your chin up with a bend of your elbow. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of being right, but by the way he rolled his eyes at your response, he knew.
“You two are so painfully readable, even the most oblivious in Hellfire sees through you and Eddie.” He gestures towards Jeff, his eyes shooting up from his disgusting-looking cheese pizza. You frown, not liking the shrug that Jeff gives you.
“For fuck’s sake,” You put your face in your hands, wanting a sinkhole to open up below the chair and swallow you. The rest of your words fail you because Eddie’s slamming his lunch down on the table, pulling you away from the absolute humiliation you feel. Now you just feel a trickle of nerves shoot down your legs and arms.
“This pizza looks like cardboard,” Eddie grumbles, his hands fidgeting as he sits down. The ring catches the light immediately, like it’s teasing you. You sit back in your chair, looking at him with your brows knitted together.
“It does look nasty.”
Eddie’s eyes soften at your words. As he tilts his head back to glance at you, a smile spreads across his perfectly pouted lips. “It got me thinkin’ that I wanted to check out that new restaurant on the outskirts of town. It’s a pizza place. New York style.”
He’s only really talking to you, not paying attention to the rest of the guys discussing something completely separate. They have completely disregarded that previous conversation, Gareth putting a pin in it the moment Eddie plopped into his plastic chair.
“Some customers told me over the weekend it was really good,” You recount, trying to push past the frustration you feel now that you know you constantly have eyes on you. Knowing that people are putting together the puzzle pieces of your feelings towards Eddie bothers you because, truthfully, if what you think is happening is not really happening, you’ll die of embarrassment. You would have to leave for college extra early.
Eddie takes a bite of the shitty pizza before throwing it down on his tray in disgust. “We should go there after Rick’s this afternoon.”
You feel your muscles lock up at his offer. “What?”
“You heard me,” He looks at you, a hint of confusion in his voice, “Unless you don’t like pizza.”
“I like pizza.”
Gareth shoots you a look with his hands clasped in front of his mouth. Not daring to say a thing. Not wanting to spoon-feed you the realization you are slowly coming to, Eddie’s eyes stay locked on your expressionless face.
The lines around his mouth spread as his lips curled. “It’s a date, then.”
-
Being in the car with him even feels different now.
After school, you two walked out into the frigid winter afternoon, not saying a word. Now, being confined to the warmth of his possibly oil-leaking van, you feel a sweat starting to form on your brow.
You hated being silent with him; it always made it feel like there was something wrong. Eddie was never one to be quiet, and you were always giving him some smart ass retort.
Luckily, it never lasts long.
“I went to the Hideout last night,” Eddie explains, turning down Main Street. Before taking off, he admitted the drive was longer than 20 minutes, so you two had a lot of alone time in the car.
“Oh, cool,” You mumble, still looking ahead at the busy small businesses. You had no clue where this conversation was going.
He clears his throat, “Yeah, saw those nice ladies again and they asked me where my girlfriend was.”
Eddie was good at grabbing your attention and even better at making your heart go still in your chest.
You glance at him, a small pout lining your lips, “Oh?”
His dopey smile sends a tingle down your spine.
“Yeah, I told them she was busy working.”
You did work last night, albeit a short shift. Why would he tell the ladies who wanted him all to themselves that you were actually his girlfriend?
You bite the inside of your bottom lip, pondering his words for a moment. “Eddie, they are going to think we are together, like for real.”
Reprimanding him was a stupid move. His response is so painfully quick.
“So what if they do?”
You don’t have a response. So what if they do think that about you two? What would they do? Tell your dad, since they know him? Announce it in the school’s newspaper?
You had nothing to lose. Neither did Eddie.
He looks away from the road as you respond, “I don’t know.”
“What they don’t know won’t hurt them, sweets.” He slows to a complete stop, looking all ways at the four-way intersection. You smirk when you realize his perfect halt is only because there’s a cop parked outside the pharmacy nearby. Only being good when people are watching. “Plus, if telling two old ladies that you are my girlfriend means they get off my back and don’t feed me a bunch of disgusting shots again, I’m going to have to take advantage of that.”
There it is. He’s using you to get away from the women he seemed excited to party with because they fed him gross alcohol.
He doesn’t like you.
You cross your arms over your chest, scowling at him in an almost teasing manner. You cannot give yourself away.
“So you’re using me as a ploy to get a bunch of cougars off your back?”
He giggles, shaking his head as he turns down the highway that leads out of town. “Is that so wrong?”
Yes. It’s wrong because I actually like you, asshole. You want to say.
“I mean, whatever, it’s just weird.” You try to sound nonchalant, but you even hear the spike in your tone.
“Why?”
His foot hits the gas, the tires almost squealing at the impact. The speed limit may only be 45, but to Eddie, that actually meant 70.
The response you give him is a bit jaded and blunt. You did not mean for it to come out like it does, but the lilt of your voice and upturned nose reflected a certain edge. “Because don’t you want the attention?”
His smile drifts a bit. His eyes scan the road before peeking down at you, “Not from them, sweetheart.”
The pit in your stomach. Permeating as his words hang in the air.
“Oh, I see.”
His voice clears as he speeds up, the trees to your right passing by in a blur. “Yeah, I don’t think my calling in life is to fuck a bunch of old women.”
You were not expecting that response. “Jesus Christ, Eddie.”
He chuckles dryly, almost like he wants to get more out of you. “What?”
You had not thought about Eddie fucking anyone. Well… anyone but you. That has entered your mind more times than you care to admit. And the couple of times you saw a peak of his stomach when he raised his arms, you felt a warmth spread in your tummy that extended down to your pussy. Or spotting the hint of his thighs through the rips in his jeans. You thought about his body quite often. Not always in an objectifying way, but… You did wonder about his hands a lot.
You curl your fingers in to stab the palm of your hand, still tucked under your armpits. You are failing to recenter yourself. “You talking about… fucking people.”
“Yeah, it’s not something that comes up often with us.”
Silence, except for the sound of the hot air pushing through the vents. You dig your nails further into your palm.
“Yeah, it’s not.”
He slows the car down, jerking you forward slightly as he practically goes on two wheels turning down another back road, “You get all weird talking about it.”
You shoot him a conflicted look. “I do not.”
You do. Admittedly, you had never talked to any boy about sex except for the one you almost went all the way with in 10th grade. That did not pan out for a very good reason, and you are all the more thankful for it.
Sex was something you thought about. You enjoyed reading about in books. It was always overly romantic, though. You could not help but imagine it was a dramatization.
It was not something you were in a rush to do in your real life. Maybe it was because of the crop of boys you had to pick from and how much they grossed you out. Maybe it was because none of them really gave you room to be a person before they jumped into wanting to get their dick wet. Either way, you had never fantasized about actively having sex with a guy you knew until a couple of months ago.
The night you first smoked with Eddie.
When he looked at your lips with a slight flicker of his eyes, you could have mounted his lap in that very moment. Without hindsight, you would have never connected the dots. But that pressing feeling between your legs would not let up until you did something about it before you went to bed that night.
“We don’t have to talk-”
You cut him off like you infamously do, “No, let’s because it seems like you think I’m some sort of prude or something.”
He sputters out a reply, using his hands to stop your words, “I never said that.”
“Well, you are acting like I can’t talk about having sex without being all weird.” You wave your hands outward, pulling away from your chest. You try to smile, but your stern guise is glued to your face.
Eddie huffs, “Fine, have you ever done it?”
The car slows down, and so does your brain. You do not question whether you are going to tell him the truth, simply because virginity does not matter to you. But you do not want him to think you were hopeless and innocent.
Why would he care?
“N-no. I haven’t,” You stutter, “Not… all the way.”
He stops at a stop sign. “So halfway?”
You groan, putting your hands on your face, dragging them over your eyes and nose. You keep your hands over your mouth, talking through your fingers, “I’ve sucked a dick before.”
You want to shake the memory out of your mind the moment you say it. It made you feel gross. Not the action, but the person you did it with. It makes your skin crawl picturing him standing over you.
“Really?”
He sounds shocked, which offends you a bit. He really thinks you are a prude.
You never brought up intimacy like that. What could the guy mock up besides that basic assumption?
“Yes, Eddie!” You slam your hands back on your thighs. His eyes follow them there, not pulling away from the stop sign. He is just watching you completely spiral in the bucket seat next to him, “God, have you?”
He lets out a sigh out of his nose, “Sucked a dick?”
His teasing isn’t helping the situation. You slap his arm to reel him in just as he lets off the brake and inches forward.
“No. Had sex.”
While you say the words, you feel a phlegm crawl its way up your throat. You want to know, but at the same time, you knew that it would become a sore spot knowing he had been intimate with someone else.
He clears his throat, voice wavering a bit, “Yeah. A couple of times.”
A bullet straight to the rib cage. Your instant reaction is just a small “oh”, but your mind spins with a million follow-up questions. While it stung to think about Eddie’s hands somewhere on someone else's body, his lips occupying someone else’s mouth, you could stop yourself from wanting to know more.
“With who?”
You watch as his fingers flex and constrict over the steering wheel. He sucks his cheek in like he does not want to say. You notice the subtle way he bounces his head back and forth, like he’s twirling the information in his head.
“Some girl I met at a rock festival two summers ago. We spent the weekend together and camped in her tent. Happened twice in that stuffy ass tent.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
He relaxes his hand on the wheel, “No. She got a boyfriend and stopped calling.”
It makes your skin itch for some reason. The idea that he was still calling her after they had a whirlwind weekend together, only for her to cut him off for someone else.
He must have really liked her.
You can tell your face is reflecting your unwarranted irritation, because Eddie starts to grin like an idiot. He pokes your leg, “You jealous or something?”
He’s poking the bear.
Because, of course, you were jealous. But how could you say that without sounding like a desperate idiot?
He turns down a dirt road, and it’s only then that you remember the reason you two had been confined in the car for so long together. He had business to take care of.
You decide to flip the conversation back to him. Make him feel like he’s grappling to get a hold of something.
“Why do you ask? Do you want me to be jealous?”
He wiggles his nose, leaning forward a bit as he dodges some potholes, “It would make this conversation more interesting.”
One pothole sends you and him bouncing in your seats. Your hand instantly flies out to the middle console and the door handle, steadying yourself.
“Is it not interesting enough?”
He jerks the wheel to the left, sending you hurdling towards him. He laughs as your hand braces his leg. “Course it’s interesting, sunshine. I love learning about your sexual encounters and how you are jealous that I’m more experienced than you.”
Before you even realize what you are saying, it’s spilling out. “That’s not why I’m jealous.”
He slams on the brakes. At first, you assume it’s because the road is finally opening up with a giant pothole and it’s going to devour the van. But it's not because of that, unfortunately.
He throws the van in park, almost aggressively, with a flick of his wrist. About 100 feet away, you can see a house tucked away behind some brush. Your probable destination.
He shifts in his seat so he’s completely facing you, his eyebrows lifted in an inquisitive fashion. In that moment, you knew you were completely fucked. You did not censor yourself when it mattered most.
“It wasn’t a dream, was it?” He insists, pushing his hand up on the center console that your hand is still locked onto, “That night you drove me home.”
He did remember.
Even with the heat blasting from the vents, a static chill runs down your back.
“It wasn’t a dream,” You practically whisper, your leg starting to bounce with nerves.
He slams his hand on the console, gritting his teeth. “Damn it! I knew it!”
You didn’t expect him to react this way. He tucks his bottom lip under his top teeth before pulling his lips between his pointer finger and thumb in contemplation. You do not dare say a word, fearful he may be mad. Why would he be? That you did not know.
“So what you’re telling me is,” He huffs, tapping his fingers furiously on the leather of the steering wheel. His eyes soften before tilting his head back to you, “I could’ve… kissed you already?”
Your breathing is labored as your hand twitches towards his.
You are so stupid.
“If you wanted to.”
He leans forward, his hand moving from the console with one swift movement. He grabs the nape of your neck, pulling you forward into his space. You are panting as his lips hover above yours for a brief moment. Your air is pushed away by his exhalations before his face is taut with yours. Noses pressed into each other’s cheeks. His lips taking the lead, moving against your completely motionless mouth.
You have kissed someone before. But the fervor Eddie harnesses with his mouth is remarkable. The moment his hand shifts on your neck, you relax into it, finally pressing forward into him. Your hands move to his thigh and shoulder as you balance yourself, as the heated exchange intensifies. He tastes like the mint gum he’s always chewing when a cigarette isn’t placed between his lips. There’s a hint of sweetness from the apple juice he had at lunch, which makes you smile a bit.
His touch is electric across your skin, dragging along your neck and shoulders. The goosebumps he leaves in his wake are enough to have you practically vibrating. You dig your hands into the collar of his jacket, wanting to pull him into you further, but instead, he stills his movements and pulls away slowly.
Those big brown eyes have never looked more sappy in all the time you’ve known him.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” He murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, “Didn’t think I’d do it in my middle man’s driveway.”
You cannot help but the long, drawn-out sigh that almost resembles a laugh that slips out of your mouth.
“You’ve never been conventional, Eds.”
He clicks his tongue, his hand slowly pulling back from your neck. “You got that right.”
You are both ripped from your blissful state by the sound of rumbling tires behind the van. You both turn in unison to look out the back windows, seeing a familiar colored car dodging the same potholes you two just did.
As the car gets closer and the dust settles from all the kick up, the face you spot in the front passenger seat makes your body go as stiff as a board.
The Ambulon Lives Zine is now officially free to download!
Enjoy 60 pages of art, fic and more, all exploring universes where Ambulon didn't die on Luna 1... and if that's not enough for you, there's also an exclusive Q&A with James Roberts about Ambulon, his fans, and what could have been!
(We've also got a mini 18+ supplement with four more bonus pieces, free to view here... 👀)
01.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is MIA
[Instagram: The Away From Home Festival posts via story, changes the profile pic and updates the bio, Soccer Aid posts another video of L, Twitter: Afhf changes the header and profile pic]
02.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is MIA
[Daily Mail publishes pap pics of H in London (probably taken on June 1st)]
03.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[LTHQ posts a link to their socials, it leads to a sign up for a Louis discord server that is coming soon]
04.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is MIA
05.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[Chloe Burcham posts a pic of H brushing his teeth with Gemma in Italy (May 2025, exact date unknown), L follows Rockstar Games on Instagram]
06.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is MIA
[A pic of H with fans in London recently is posted, L likes Niall’s post on Instagram]
07.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is MIA
[H is also seen at the LIDO Festival in London the same evening]
08.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is MIA
[Daily Mail and Metro UK publish Articles about H at LIDO]
09.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
10.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[A TV Magazine Interview with L is published, Soccer Aids posts another reel of L playing the kids TV emoji game]
11.06.2025 Pap pics of Harry in London / Louis is MIA
[Daily Mail Article of H in London (posted 12.06)]
12.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is at the Soccer Aid training day 1 in Hertfordshire, UK
[Pap pics of H in London with James Cordon are published, LTHQ via IG Story, L's interview with talkSPORT (airs as a livestream on the same day),
13.06.2025 Harry is in Lisbon, Portugal / Louis is in Hertfordshire
[find a daily recap here]
14.06.2025 Harry is in Lisbon / Louis is in Hertfordshire
[find a daily recap here]
15.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is at the Soccer Aid event in Manchester
[find a Soccer Aid recap here, find a daily recap here]
16.06.2025 Harry is in Rome / Louis is MIA
[More pap pics of H in London (from 12.06) this time with Tommy are published, L follows Carlos Tevez on IG, ITV posts a Soccer Aid match recap on YT, more Articles about L and Sam Thompson]
17.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[Mcdomlinson Social Media Interactions, L follows Zara McDermott's brand RISE, Tobi Brown and Joe Hart on IG]
18.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[L follows Leonardo Bonucci on IG]
19.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[L IG follows (Robbie Keane and Roman Kemp), The Soccer Aid sponsored ad for Marvel is posted with L being featured there briefly, The Wingrove Family posts a video on YT featuring L meeting a young football fan (both clips are recorded on 15.06)]
20.06.2025 Harry is in Rome / Louis is MIA
21.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
22.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
23.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[L follows Rolling Stones UK on Instagram and likes a IG reel from a self-tanning brand Endless Luxe, L's signed Soccer Aid dressing room card is up for auction]
24.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[L follows Paddy McGuinness on IG and unlikes the self tanning reel]
25.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is in Glastonbury
26.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is in Glastonbury
[L with Zara at Glastonbury]
27.06.2025 Both Harry and Louis are in Glastonbury
28.06.2025 Harry is in Glastonbury / Louis is in Glastonbury
29.06.2025 Harry is in London / Louis is in Glastonbury
[find a complete Glastonbury Recap here, L likes a larry reel on IG and unlikes it a while later, he also wears a hopelessly romantic shirt, The Sun publishes an exclusive about H kissing a "mystery woman" last night, H follows Gracie Abrams on IG]
30.06.2025 Harry is MIA / Louis is MIA
[The Sun publishes an Article about the identity of the "mystery woman"]
