Years after running away from your kingdom, escaping your regal duties and joining a pirate crew, you find yourself back under the hand of a royal realm. Forcefully entwined amongst a palace’s workers, you struggle to hide your true identity.
An identity that once had the entire seven seas searching for you. An identity that grew up accustomed to stately etiquette and its rules. An identity that once belonged to the heir of a throne.
Word Count: 3.3k
Series Masterlist
Chapter 18
A/N: This chapter has very little plot. I partly wrote it for my own self indulgence, but to also allow Mae some fun, because why not.
Eddie works as a kitchen boy in the castle and has just failed the test to be a knight again. He keeps failing on purpose because someone needs to keep an eye on the kids. Captain of the guard Hopper knows this and wants to pass Eddie because he trained Eddie himself damnit he's a damn good fighter but Eddie always makes sure he fails the final test.
Prince Steve sneaks out of the castle that night to go drink and be normal, he sees Eddie there getting into a fight and realizes how good Eddie is. So he sits across from Eddie and asks "performance issues?" Eddie will forever deny spit taking his beer all over the crown prince. Eddie says he has his reasons and he'll show Steve what they are. He then takes Steve back to the castle and hands him over to Hopper saying Steve is pretty but not worth going to jail again pretty.
Steve is persistent though and keeps spending time with Eddie at work and meeting the kids and learning to love them and be happy. Steve's parents find out about their little romance and ban Eddie from becoming a knight since he's not a noble by birth. Steve and the kids scheme to enter Eddie in the joust as Steve and if he wins he's allowed to ask any favor of the king and queen.
Of course Eddie wins but Steve's parents refuse the favor. Enter Steve fucking Harrington, "I couldn't make you a knight, but how about a prince?" And proposes.
War is over. The Prince has returned home - but after a decade on the battlefield, he's more soldier than royalty. In need of social skills, chivalry, and a princess bride, Steve is given an advisor who is tasked with rehabilitating the soldier prince and reintroducing him to high society. It's your job to make a lover out of a fighter, and teach him to be the King he was always destined to become.
It's Prince Steve's birthday. You owe him a birthday present, or two.
Content Warning: Prince!Steve x Royal Advisor! Reader, mature themes, royal au, forbidden love, smut (penetrative sex, no protection, cream pie), fluff, angst.
Series Masterlist
"Bunches of peonies on either side of the entrance doors, and then throughout the rest of the hall," You tell the maids firmly. "And remember - nothing but pink, purple, and white."
They immediately get to work while you supervise, paying attention to every last detail. A few of the knights were kind enough to offer their help, though decorating isn't exactly their strong point.
"Be careful with those garlands, Gregory," You say sternly. "They're delicate things."
He turns to you with a knowing smirk. "Don't be so tightly wound, my lady," He says teasingly. "The Prince won't care about the floral details."
"I will," You state. "This is his first official debut since the war, so it needs to be perfect.
Raising a brow, Gregory moves closer to you. "The Prince's birthday feast seems to be a subject of great concern for you," He comments smugly. "One might think your concern for him borders on inappropriate."
"Stop your idiocy, Gregory," You spit with a glare. "It is my job to ensure the Prince's public image remains intact, and that includes making sure events like today go perfectly. There is nothing inappropriate about it."
"Very well," He sighs, tilting his head and lowering his voice as he rests his free hand on your waist. "But, if you need someone to distract you from your obvious feelings for the Prince, I'd be happy to step up. It's not like he will bother to notice the effort you put into this; God knows he'll only be attending for the wine."
Infuriated, you snatch the garland from his hand and step backwards. "Shut your mouth, you foolish man," You hiss. "Your service here is no longer needed. You may leave."
Gregory rolls his eyes before storming out of the hall, leaving you to fester in your rage. You do your best to clear your mind and focus on decorating, but you can't shake the irritation.
Perhaps it's knowing that your feelings for Prince Steve are inappropriate that is bringing you annoyance. You're angry at yourself for being so weak as to have fallen into the trap of lust, but you tell yourself you can get through it.
You must get through it.
By the time the party commences, you've forgotten all about Gregory's comments and have convinced yourself you're only highly strung because you want to impress Queen Sarah.
But then, Steve makes his entrance, and your stomach flips, and you realize that you're in too deep.
"And here, ladies and gentleman, is your darling Prince!" Queen Sarah announces with joy as Steve makes his way down the grand staircase, looking breathtakingly gorgeous. His dark blue, velvet suit is tailored to perfection, and the gold chain around his neck makes him look like a piece of art.
He greets his mother at the bottom of the stairs with a kiss on her cheek, while the guests cheer. You stand near the back with a glass of rum, trying to tell yourself it's simply lust you're feeling for him and nothing deeper.
Steve is attractive, masculine, strong, funny, and sexy - those are qualities you could find in another man. You are not attracted to Steve himself, but his traits, and his traits are not specific to him. Are they?
"Where is it?"
The voice pulls you from your thoughts and you gasp when you see none other than Steve himself standing in front of you with an expectant look on his face. A few of the guests are watching you, too, but most are distracted by the food spread.
"Where is what, my Prince?" You ask in a slight panic, terrified that you've missed out an important detail when planning the feast.
Giving you a sly smile, Steve leans forward. "My birthday present," He clarifies simply, as though it's obvious.
"Oh," Is all you can say in response. Truthfully, you were planning on giving it to him in private, and that decision still stands. "I would much prefer to gift it to you in the early hours of the morning, once the guests have left."
He narrows his eyes and leans down to you. "Today is my birthday, my lady, not tomorrow," Steve reminds you, before holding his arm out. "Come. Let us find somewhere private."
Flustered by his suggestion, you let out a breathy laugh. "Queen Sarah would-"
"- be far too busy conducting the feast to notice our temporary disappearance," He assures you, before taking your hand and leading you out of the hall.
You don't protest while he takes you up a floor and to the balcony overlooking the gardens. Once there, he leans against the stone wall with a raised brow and a knowing smirk.
"And what if I say I have not opted to gift you anything?" You ask him.
His smirk only widens and a chuckle leaves his mouth. "If there is anyone who would bother with gifting a Prince, it would be you, my lady," He hypothesizes.
Giving in, you nod. "You know me well," You say while reaching to the string belt on your dress. You untie the black, velvet sack hanging from it and hand it to him, feeling a sudden wave of nervousness take over. What if he hates it? What if he's disappointed, or worse, offended?
You watch on with timid caution as he opens up the sack and takes out its content. His eyes widen when he sees it, and he stares at you in disbelief. "You replicated it?" He questions, utterly taken aback by the golden cuff that sits between his fingers.
"It is not a replica, my sweeting," You reveal with a small smile. "I restored it to it's original state, with a bit of added beauty."
The cuff itself was one he wore all his life around his left wrist. During the war, it cracked in multiple places until it finally split into two.
"Sir James brought it back with him when he was discharged after losing his arm," You tell him. "One of the handmaids found it on his person and brought it to me. I couldn't bare to throw it away, knowing how many generations it had been passed down through, and so I kept the pieces in a safe space and forgot all about it. But a few weeks ago, I happened upon it, and couldn't help but want to fix it for you."
His lips part in shock. "You did this yourself?" He asks, looking at the bracelet from every angle.
You smile bashfully. "Well, I did my best. I'm in no position to buy gold, but I had some silver jewellery that I no longer had any use or want for, so I melted it down and used it to bond the cuff back together," You explain. "I know it isn't the same, but I hoped it would be of some sentiment to you."
"You're right. It isn't the same," He says, looking up from the gold bracelet with silver veins to meet your eyes. "It's better."
Shaking your head, you laugh softly. "There is no need to flatter me, my sweeting," You assure him.
"I am being truthful," Steve insists. "This is better than the original, because not only does it hold the history of my family, it now holds a bit of you, too."
Your cheeks heat up and you look down, trying to calm down your racing heart. His sweetness does nothing to deflate your growing feelings for him, but you can't find the energy to push them down.
"How did you do this?" He asks you. "I had no idea you were a blacksmith."
"My father was," You say with a fond smile. "He taught me when I was a little girl - admittedly, though, I'm out of practice, as displayed by the scars."
Immediately, concern floods his features and he puts the cuff on before taking your hands in his and bringing them closer to his face. Scanning the small burns, his brows furrow together and his cheeks flush pink. "You should not have put yourself at risk for me," He says sternly. "You could have been seriously injured."
"Do not fret, my sweeting," You coo. "I did nothing dangerous. Scars are a natural byproduct of smithing, and it was entirely worth it. You are entirely worth it."
His eyes light up and he moves closer to you, hands still clutching yours. "And you are entirely angelic," He mumbles, before placing multiple soft kisses to your hands and fingers. The action sends flutters to your stomach, and you forget that anything outside of him exists.
"My Prince," You whisper. "We must return to the feast. They will be wondering where you are."
"I do not care about them," He utters lowly, releasing your hands to place his on your waist, pulling your hips into his. "I wish for another gift from you, my lady."
"And what might that be?" You ask, hypnotized by the dark look in his eyes.
He leans closer still, until his nose brushes against yours. Tingles spark across your skin and you shiver at his proximity. "A kiss from an angel," He answers lowly, and it's as though the world around you comes to a stop.
You should stop him. Move back, and tell him that he shouldn't. That he can't. But when you feel his rum-scented breath on your skin, and see the way he's looking down at you as though he's never before seeing anything as beautiful or captivating, you realize you're too weak. You're not strong enough to deny your attraction any longer, and so you let his lips meet yours in a kiss and you kiss him back, and you kiss him with nothing but deep, raw desire.
His hands tighten on your waist, gripping your body and pushing you against the low wall of the balcony. Groans escape his mouth and find home in yours, as does his tongue.
"Steven," You whimper as his hand travels down to your crotch, rubbing your heat through your skirts. "We really should not be doing this."
"Shh, angel," He hushes you, slowly lifting up your dress. "It's my birthday, and I'm your Prince. Are you not to give me what I want?"
Once your underwear is exposed to him, he slips his fingers underneath it, making you gasp. There are things you should say, things you should do to stop him, but you can't. His fingers brushing across your throbbing cunt rid your mind of any logic or coherent thought, and all you care about is the pleasure he's giving you.
"Fuck," Steve groans as his fingers dip into your honey-soaked entrance. "Tell me you need me inside you, angel. Beg me to fill you with my cock."
"Oh, Steve," You moan as he sinks his fingers deeper into you, fucking you with them over and over. "I need you, my Prince. Need you inside me."
He licks your neck upwards until he reaches your ear, before wrapping his mouth around your earlobe and humming in delight. "And who am I to deny my darling subject of what she wants?" He mumbles teasingly while fumbling with his trousers.
Under the moonlit sky, you forget who you are, but that no longer matters. Steve stands above you, and he wants you so badly that you can feel the lust emanating from him - or perhaps that's your own lust, meeting his in the middle. His golden hair is darkened by the night, and the fact that you can hardly see each other is perhaps what makes it easier for the transgression to take place. Under no light, with no witnesses, you and Steve can act on your wildest, most inappropriate desires, with no consequence - at least, no immediate consequence.
Whimpers and whines leave your mouth, though they are muted for fear that you'll be heard. Steve notices that you're holding back, which in turn makes him growl with frustration.
As you feel his thick cock sink into you, you fall completely under his spell. Tomorrow doesn't matter and nor does the sunlight it will bring. Your bodies are so close together that there remains no space for shame or regret. Steve rests his forehead against yours while he ruts into you, desperately fucking you against the balcony wall. "You feel so good, angel," He groans, wrapping one hand around the back of your neck.
"Do not hold back on me," He orders you gravely, fucking you harder. "Show me how I make you feel. Let them hear it. I want to hear it."
Your lips part and out pours a melodic moan that sounds like his name, making his lips pull up into a smirk. Your reward is a kiss, one he gives you with passion and heat. His tongue strokes yours, a soft contrast to the way his cock is pounding into you. Steve moves his face down to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin, likely leaving behind bruises. You wrap your arms around his torso, needing to feel his big body as close to yours as possible, delighted by the hardness of his muscles. In his grasp, you feel safe and all-consumed, and more like a woman than ever. You're wanted, lusted after, and enjoyed by him. You feel magical.
"You send me into insanity," He moans, thrusting faster. "I've dreamt of this every night since we met. Fantasized about having you wrapped around me, just like this. Filling you with my seed."
His words sober you, and your eyes shoot open. "Steve," You whisper sharply. "You cannot spill your seed inside me."
"Don't worry, angel," He mutters into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "You have nothing to fear when you're with me. You trust me, don't you?" Lifting his head back up, he meets your eyes.
Unable to disagree with him, you timidly nod. "Yes, my Prince," You reply truthfully. "I trust you."
"That's my girl," He mumbles, fucking into you faster. "My angel. All mine."
He reattaches his lips to yours, kissing you with desperation, as though silently begging you to remain his forever. As though, with his kiss, he anoints you as his one. As though he feels something deeper than just lust for you. Pulling away from the kiss, he meets your eyes. He slows down his thrusts, wanting to make it last longer. Not wanting for the living dream to end just yet. And you don't blame him, for you don't want it to end, either.
"I'm close," He tells you lowly, pounding into you. "Are you?"
"Yes, my sweeting," You whimper, holding his warm cheeks in your hands as you feel your climax building up in your core. "Yes."
"Oh, God," Steve groans, his eyelids fluttering. The two of you moan in unison, burning passion blooming between you. Before long, you feel the familiar burst of intoxicating pleasure. His name leaves your mouth, no care for his proper title or even your nickname for him. He moans your name, too, and you can swear it's the prettiest sound in the world.
After a few moments of heavy breathing and cooling down, Steve gently pulls out of you before helping you smooth down your dress. The two of you stare at each other in silence, small smiles on your face. You expected yourself to be filled with regret and shame once the act was over, but it felt too right to be tainted by negative thoughts.
He takes a step backwards and holds his hand out to you. "We should return," Steve suggests. "Before Mother sends out a search party."
"Wait," You call out suddenly, tugging on his hand. "Did... did you notice the decorations, my Prince? In the hall?" You feel immature for asking such a thing, but Gregory's comments earlier made you doubt how much Steve cares about you, and whether your friendship is reciprocated.
A smile blossoms on Steve's face and he pulls you closer into him. "I did, my lady," He answers softly. "You somehow found a way to reflect your beauty with nothing but flowers and silk. Though, that must have been easy for someone as beautiful as you. I imagine you could simply brush past a patch of grass, and the reeds would grow into roses."
Your heart flutters and a nervous laugh escapes your mouth. "Do not tease me," You whisper, unable to believe that he truly holds that opinion of you.
His nose rubs against yours and he brings up his hand to cup your cheek. "I could never lie to you, my angel. You are more intoxicating than any rum, so trust in my words, for they leave my mouth without any control or thought," He claims lowly. "Your presence alone inebriates me. I am weak, defenseless. You've made a mouse out of a soldier."
"Nonsense," You retort. "You are to be King of Sovena in a few short weeks."
"Of Sovena, yes," He agrees. "But with you? All of my mightiness and strength diminishes. King is but a title, and there are no titles between us. Simply a flower and her admirer."
You grin widely, taken aback by how special he can make you feel. "We really must get back to the feast, my sweeting," You remind him.
"Must we?" He asks with a slight whine. "Can we not stay out here, where I can watch the moonlight dance in your eyes until she's replaced by the sun?"
"Enough of your poetry," You scold him lightly, pushing him back. "I was to teach you of love, not of this neverending romance."
"But love makes one mad, and romance is a symptom of madness; my father told me that," Steve says. "This is what you wanted, isn't it? For me to love?"
Silence joins the two of you, preventing either of you from saying a word. You stand and wonder whether he's saying what you want him to be saying, but what you know he can never say. His love is not for you - it was predestined to be for someone else; someone royal. No. His love is not for you.
"It is your birthday, Your Highness," You say firmly once you find your voice. "You are to dine and drink and dance with the guests who have gathered to celebrate you. Making them wait any longer would be rude."
A sigh leaves his mouth and he nods, slowly widening the gap between you. "You are right, my lady," Steve admits with a nod. "Come. Let us get drunk."
i no longer have a taglist, follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifs for updates.
"What troubles you, my Prince?" Billy asked walking over to the naked brunette by the window. "Am I not what you desire this evening?"
"It is not that," he sighed and turned as they embraced, damp skin pressing against one another yet again. "I am to be wed sooner than I thought."
"I'm sure the King would find you the most stunning bride," he pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "And I shall always be here for when you need me."
"But I need you always," the Prince replied moving to hold the whores face in his hands. "Not a day passes that I do not wish to be here. Here in your arms. The thought of others being with you...it drives me to madness."
"My Prince," he sighed and leant into his touch.
"Leave with me."
Billy let out a soft laugh.
"I mean it," Steve kissed the shocked man before him. "They will never let me marry a man, moreso a city whore but if we left. Ran so far the crown had no power over what we do. We could be happy."
"That is a bad decision," he did not pull away but his gaze shifted. "You are the only heir. If you were to disappear the whole continent would be searching for you."
"I cannot live without you and if I did not try to escape this...this burden bestowed to me by blood I shall spend my life in misery and regret," Steve pressed his forehead to Billy's. "I love you."
He felt the breath of his lungs exhale, a moment of silence falling over them before Billy lifted his head to kiss Steve's temple.
"And I love you. I would follow you to the end of the world."
Pairing: Prince!Steve Harrington x Dark Knight!Eddie Munson
Pov: Narrative
Warnings: Fighting, bleeding, falling in love, opposites attract, angst, fluff, kissing, making out, inner dialogue, drinking
Summary: A battle between good and bad isn't always so clear. Especially when the lines are blurred by love.
A/n- firefly graphics for dividers; a Steddie series.
WC- 2.2k
Main Master List // Stranger Things Master List // The Adults Master List
Yes Steve Harrington was a prince, who had everything he wanted at his finger tips. Guards that protected him from everything and everyone. A whole mess of servants who tended to his every need. But thoses guards, and servants could never protect him from the way his father and mother treated him.
The King was not known for his kind words, but his strong hand. The Queen was known for her beauty, but along with that beauty came a blank, stare that made you feel like death was coming for you. Steve the only born child of this realm to have any hold to the crown was currently waltzing around the library he had never found himself drawn towards the poltics and fighting that happened in the war room.
Hearing his father louds screams, and shouts for more men, and less of well everything else that came along with ripping your people from their homes, and families to fight in war that you created all on your own. Regardless Steve let his eye wander on the plenty of bookshelves. The spine of all the books. Dusty, and old. He wonders for a moment if he will become just like these books. Decaying by the second as the world around him spurts up with new healthier roots.
He wonders for a moment if he will become like his father. His hard coarse, angry, father King Charile. He wonders if he’ll ever grow to be something better and kinder. Then his thoughts move as he notices that for the first time he’s alone in the library. No servants, nor guards watching him. For the first time in such a long time Steve is alone. Oddly enough though Steve is always alone. His father was not nice to Steve when he was a child, grinding into him that he will one day take the throne. Things that needed to stay that same. He needed to learn so much, know so much just for his father years later when Steve showed signs of not being interested in politics, and war to take that away from him.
Still Steve was a knight not a wonderful one, but a good one at least. His mother on the other hand was never sure of her son. Always wanting something more from her son. The abuse that was never seen by servants or gaurds in the castle. Steve was a broken, hurt little boy at his heart. At his warm, center Steve wanted nothing more then to be something that his parents loved just as much as they loved the popularity, money, and galm that came with being at the helm of their kingdom.
Steve had been plotting, planning. Not to murder his mother and father, but to run away. Run away for the summer and take with him only a few things. Tell no one of which he was running off to and let his heart guide him wherever it took him. At this point the library was flooded with afternoon light. The large window gave him perfect access for grabbing his hidden things and running off. That’s what he did. Would he write and letter and leave it for his parents to find. Most likely even if he did write a letter they would never find it. Not really caring about what, or where their only son was. So that choice was already made for him.
On his travels Steve meets a beautiful girl. Who goes by Rob for short of course her real name is Robin, a lovely red head with a spit-fire attitude. She turns into a great friend, one who’s almost always got his back. His travels become less lonely especially when Robin starts to tag along. He’s only made it so far from his home, before Robin told him that she wanted to take him to a tavern. “I’ve never been to a tavern Robin!” He worries she might look at him like he some crazy person. He has yet to tell her that he is of Royal standing, or that he is totally not being searched for right now.
“Oh shut it, Steve. Don’t worry we can sit together and we can talk more about where you’ve been staying before you came into my life.” Steve begrudgingly went alongside Robin. She had never dressed like the other women at court had, or how any other women dressed. No long dresses, instead Robin opted for trousers and tunics. It fit her better somehow, but may that’s because Steve never seen her in anything else. They walked into the tavern during midday. The tavern wenches gave no notices to how out of place both Steve and Robin looked. Though nobody really cared what, or how they long they would be there for. That opted for a booth in the back of the tarven.
–
The black haired prince was sneaking away. Not that was unusual for him to do. Most days he snuck away to find lesser polticloical things, in search of something better and much more laid back. He was prince to the people of his kingdom, but he wanted to be more. Be more, mean more then just that. So almost everyday, on the dot he would venture out of his bedroom window and travel down to the town below the dark castle.
His Mother had passed on many years ago, and with that came an uproar for Eddie the black haired prince who was loved by all to become the new king. That’s not what the war council, nor Eddie’s Uncle wanted. His uncle had watched how the war concoul and the job itself had taken every last bit of life, love, and joy out of his sister the Queen. So the people of Correoded were left with an older King whom was really only there for show. Eddie’s uncle knew that sometimes the wild heart that was once in his sister was also in his nephew. He knew that there were times when he was gone for days, disappearing without a trace. Eddie was much like a wild horse. Free of heart, and always wanting for an adventure.
Eddie and Steve were the definition of ying/yang, the dark side of the moon, and the light. They’d never met, and yet there were in such a way a contrast of each other. Sure Steve may have a dark horror story in his mind, but his outward personality was that of bubbly, hot summer day. Steve was if you wanted to assign a color to these two men. Yellow. Steve was the brighest color on the planet, the vibrant sun was no match for the way Steve would smile and lighten anyones day except for his own. Eddie was the prince of darkness, he was supposed to be hallow, harden by time serving on the knights guard. Inside Eddie’s mind were, the most playful, magical things. Colors of all kinds brusted into his mind. Like before If Eddie was assigned a color you were supposed to see nothing but black, yet Eddie was probably just has much yellow as Steve was.
For Eddie adventure this time. He ventured far from his kingdom. Far from the lands he knew and into a new part of the green planes and budding flowers. He wasn’t one for showing it in his kingdom, but if the water wasn’t to deep, or cold he would slip his shoes off and dip his feet in. Let his feet run through the blades of grass. He was a nature loving boy at heart. Dresses in dark hues of black, grey, and blue. You’d be able to spot him almost immediately in the light green, blues, red, pinks of the field as he flocked around like a child.
How Eddie had managed to get himself into the busy tavern he’ll never know. Maybe it was the menacing way his darken eyes gave almost any person who dared look his way. Maybe it had nothing to do with that, maybe it had to do with that he in this town was like every normal person. Just that. A normal citizen of a normal passing town. Not one from a kingdom, or money, or politics, or anything else that would drown the common folk of this town. Eddie surveyed the space around him. People of different dialects, and styles sat in the tavern. Unbenosmet to him, he had caught the eye of a young man sitting in the booth not to far away from him.
At every jingle of the door opening, Steve averted his eyes, from the deeply unsatisfiting story that Robin was talking about. Each time it was nobody. Not his mother nor father in a hectic search for him, nor was it a guard in search for their prince. It was patron after parton waltzing in with a half-cocked smile. Most already drunk, and as the night went on the hope. The last beading hope was gone. Steve no longer looked as the door jingle with a new patron coming in. Until the dark night sky fell, and he wasn;t able to help himself. The door jingled and in walked the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen. A tall dark haired person. He stared the entire way, watching as they took their booth almost directly in front of his own.
The only thing in the way was the bartop, drinks, tavern wenches, and patron clouded his judgement of the mystris person who had just walked in. “You listening to anything I’m saying Steve?” Robin asks her hand hitting his shoulder hard. A sting, and a bruise to follow. “Yeah I was… I was listening to you Rob.” Steve mutters almost to himself. As if he’d believe that lie he just spat from his lips. Where ever Steve’s thoughts were leading them it wasn’t as half as bad as the dirty thoughts that were swarming, floating and ready to sting Eddie at any thought. “Steve?” Robin asks, she follows his eye sight, and for the first time during this en eventful night a smirk, then a smile grows on her face.
She’ll play match maker tonight with the mystery man and her new best friend. Fuck the girl that’s been eyeing for the past few hours, Robin is sure that her new found, reckless plan will have the two lade falling into each others arms in no time. “I need a new drink, thinking you could get that Steve.” Robin whines, she knows that Steve hates it. He grabs both the pitchers and get out from the booth, Eddie is sure ot be watching him. Like Robin is psyphics… or something Eddie is up, and on his heels in a matter of seconds. Watching as ungrateful, and rather disgusting men don’t even bother to move out of his way.
“Excuse?” “Do you mind I just?” “Sir, can I just get by…” “You heard the man, move the fuck outta his way.” The voice echos in Steve’s head, and his feet stay planted on the floor. “You gonna move or what boy.” It’s a grumpy, heavier, darker voice and it makes Steve shudder to his core. A rough, but gently hand is one that grabs Steve’s shoulder and drags him past the unbearing load of traffic in the way. “Hey thanks for that you really didn’t hav…” Steve words die in his thoart. The man from over the tavern. The dark haired, mystic man was standing right in front of his.
Touching Him.
Holding Him.
Saving Him.
“I’m Eddie” He’s holding his hand out like he wasn’t just touching Steve. Making all of his thought go haywire. “How about we get you another rounds of ales. For you and your friend other there.” The way that he say ‘friend’ it even makes Steve jealous. Word comes tumbling out before the chance to catch them arises. “OH… Oh no you’ve got that wrong… Fuck… Shit… I’m… My name is Steve, and that is just… JUST my friend Robin.” Eddie stares at him in utter disbelief. The ales comes back. Bubbles floating to the top, and this time when Steve makes his way toward the booth. The path is clear, and the feeling that there’s watching his back. Makes his knee weak, and heavy.
“So nice of you to bring someone new around.” Robin mutters to a thoughtless Steve, Eddie slides in next to Steve. Steve is automatically engulfed in the smells of leather, darkness, and most of all lust. A lustful, dirty smell that’s making him grow tight. The sighs of utter contentment overflow through him. Whatever is about to happen, Steve seems to fine right there. Resting his shoulder on this unknown, yet sexy man shoulders. “Just how much has this lord had to drink tonight?” Robin laughs, “Not enough, but he might be a little on the light side.” Steve snuggles into Eddie’s side even more. At this point Eddie is grinning, a shit face grin of happiness. That not only did he grab his bags, but always had already paid for a room.
“Take the boy with you, my lord. He’ll be in better hands than mine.” Eddie notices, as the young woman wobbles off grabbing a wench by her hips and pulling her out and into darkness.
