"Yes? Hello, officer? There's a man in my apartment."
Eddie stirs awake, his surroundings coming back to him in hazy waves.
"What?" he slurs out, blinking to clear his vision.
"Oh, I was just telling the officer that I've found a man sleeping on my couch," Stephanie says with a troubled expression, hovering over him.
Over the couch that he fell asleep on.
He sits up so suddenly he loses his balance and falls back against the cushion.
"I'm so sorry, please don't call the cops—!"
Stephanie immediately shakes her hands, which are free of a phone.
"I was joking, I was joking!" she reassures him quickly. "I'm sorry." She smiles apologetically, taking a seat next to him. "I guess that wasn't the best way to wake up someone."
"No," Eddie chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Especially not an ex-drug dealer," he huffs dryly.
Steph cocks her head with a surprised "huh" and only then does Eddie realize what he has just blurted out.
"Ah, shit. Am I ruining my good neighbor status?" he winces.
"Not at all," Steph shakes her head, and gently pats his knee. He zeroes his focus on her hand when she decides to rest it there on his jean-clad leg.
"I know my nice neighbor Eddie, not the drug dealer one," she smiles reassuringly. "What made you turn around? If you don't mind me asking," she squeezes his knee and retrieves her hand to lean back more comfortably on the couch. One of her cats, Garfield, jumps on her lap for a greeting, and Eddie realizes she's still wearing her jacket. He looks at the clock on the wall and realizes it's almost midnight.
"Sorry, I'm holding you back, you're clearly tired," she backtracks quickly, watching his eyes dart around. But Eddie shakes his head.
"Nah, I just took an invigorating nap." She laughs at that and he can't help but smile as well. "I'd assume you're tired after traveling."
"I took an invigorating nap on the bus," she smiles, petting her cat. Arwen finally decides she's not above greeting her human and jumps in next to her as well, occupying Stephanie's other hand.
Eddie reminds himself not to get jealous of felines.
"I managed to graduate," he says and when Steph looks at him in confusion, he adds: "I dealt in high school to save money for my band, thought that was my only route. But then I did graduate, on my third try, and the art teacher pulled some strings, asked around, and told me I could go study music. The guys forced me to go for it," he smiles at the memory. "My band, I mean. They said at least one of us should know some theory," he chuckles.
"That's very nice of them," Stephanie comments.
"Yeah. The bastards followed me after high school too." He grins.
"And I still haven't heard your music," she sighs wistfully.
"I'll bring a tape next time," he promises.
"You better."
They sit in silence for a while, only the cat's purring filling the night ambiance.
"Want some tea?"
"I guess I should go."
They speak over each other, eyes wide when they meet awkwardly. They chuckle, and Eddie can feel his cheeks warm up.
"Or I can get us a beer? Since you're not an old lady," she offers, spotting the empty bottle on the table. "Unless you really need to go."
"Beer sounds good. Considering there are no old ladies here," he smiles charmingly, daring her to protest.
Steph doesn't say anything, only rolls her eyes and gently nudges Garfield from her lap onto the couch cushions. She scratches Eddie's head when she passes, thankfully missing the way it causes his whole body to shiver.
"Won't your uncle be worried where you are?" she asks from the kitchen, giving Eddie the space he needs to collect himself.
"I told him I'd wait for you," he answers, scratching Garfield and trying to forget how good it felt when done to him. "Also, I don't have a curfew anymore. Never had, in fact. Not with Wayne."
"Lucky you." She steps back into the room, handing him a chilled bottle. "How long have you been living with him?"
"Since high school," he answers before taking a swig. "Spent a short time in a halfway house before that. My parents couldn't handle me anymore, but they managed to reach my uncle and he took me in."
"The hell do you mean 'couldn't handle you'?" Steph asks with a frown.
Eddie chuckles at her immediate offense.
"They got into legal trouble, and couldn't afford the house anymore, I think my dad spent some time in prison too. Tax fraud and shit, never cared enough to dig into it and Wayne doesn't like talking about them either. He's a better parent they'd ever be anyway."
"Yeah," Steph softens. "I'd love to have had someone like him back in the day." Then, she deflates with a sigh. "Though even the nicest people can turn out to be bigots. Not Wayne, of course!" she rushes to add. "He knows about Robin and he's really cool about it."
Eddie sees his opening and feels comfortable enough to use it finally.
"He better be, since his nephew is bisexual," he says with a little huff.
"He is?" Steph picks up curiously.
"Yeah," Eddie scratches his cheek, suddenly sheepish. "Turned out I wasn't watching Indiana Jones for the plot."
"I think that sweaty chest is plot enough," she says and they both laugh.
"Have you dated a guy, then?" Stephanie asks next.
"Only one for real," Eddie admits. "But it's not like I've dated many girls either, though it is easier."
"A young bachelor like you?" Stephanie raises her eyebrows in surprise. "You should be swarming with marriage proposals, the way your uncle describes you."
Eddie groans, throwing his head back against the cushions.
"What nonsense is he telling about me?"
"Only that he has a talented, smart boy in Indy, who's always helpful and protective of his friends and family. Also, he has really frizzy hair."
"Excuse me?"
Eddie picks up his head to look at Stephanie. She's suddenly closer than before, rubbing a lock of his hair between her fingers.
"When was the last time you had your hair done?"
"Uh." He looks between her hand and her face like he'll find the answer there. "Never? Probably? At least not that I remember."
Stephanie's mouth purses with displeasure.
"I can fix them for you. For taking care of my cats."
Eddie wants her hands in his hair so badly, but he raises his beer like a dumbass.
"But I already got a beer," he points out.
She shakes her head.
"I share beers with friends for less. I'd usually buzz Wayne too, and you'd be doing me a favor because I can't focus with your split ends right in my face."
She's really playing it up, pout and all, and unfortunately, it's working on him.
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen | seventeen | eighteen | nineteen | twenty | twenty one
extras: | 🐈 | 🐾 | 🐈 | Ao3
Eddie was lowkey disgusted by how his uncle would talk about one of his neighbors. No, he doesn't think it's bad for old people to fall in love or have crushes. But it's weird to know these things about his own uncle.
And it's also sad to watch, because it's been months of Stephanie this, Stephanie that, and nothing came of it, so he felt safe to assume the infatuation was one-sided. So when he tells his uncle he can't go feed her cats that week, he figures it's for the best. And not only because of Wayne's twisted ankle. To his surprise though, he doesn't seem fazed; he just waves his hand and says:
"Yeah, yeah, I know. No climbing the stairs with this thing." He pokes the cast with his crutch. "I've already volunteered you anyway."
Eddie raises his eyebrows because he surely misheard that.
"You did what now?"
"Told Stephanie I'll send you to feed her cats," Wayne says, confirming his fears.
"Why?! She has so many other neighbors!" Eddie points out, gesturing vigorously around the room, implying but meaning the flats surrounding them.
Wayne clicks his tongue at him.
"Would you let in just any of your neighbors into your home? She already trusts me, and I'm vouching for you."
Eddie gapes at him, hating that he's making a valid point. Damned be his old man and his reasonable thinking. He crosses his arms because while it makes sense, it doesn't mean Eddie can't be angry about it.
"When?"
"She's visiting her friend this weekend so she asked for Saturday evening and Sunday morning. And stay with them for a while if possible, so they don't go crazy. Ah, and the plant in the kitchen needs watering."
"Great," Eddie grits through his teeth. He's so delighted at the prospect of spending time with some old lady's cats. The whole place probably stinks of cat piss and he'll definitely kill the plant as soon as he touches it. (It was his only superpower, which is not what he aimed for when his five-year-old had been praying, thanks for nothing, Jesus.) He just hopes he won't have to meet her. Hearing some old hag complain about his clothes, hair, and general adolescence was the last thing he wanted on his weekend off. But, alas...
"She asked you to come over tomorrow so she can show you where everything is."
Eddie groans.
It's a Friday afternoon, he's at his uncle's taking a break from college and work. He should be sharing a beer with the old man, complaining about the coursework, the professors, and other students, not picking him up from the hospital, and running errands while his foot is in a cast. And certainly not meeting up with old stinky spinsters.
To add insult to injury, Miss Stephanie, (which, by the way, is such a typical old hag name) lives two floors higher and the elevator is perpetually broken. Not too high, but high enough for Eddie's anemic lungs to start collapsing.
He stops around the corner to steady his breath, because regardless of his overall attitude, he didn't want to worsen the first impression. He already refused to 'dress like a decent man' and didn't want to wheeze into the lady's face on top of it.
Once his lungs are functioning properly again, he walks into the hallway, looking for number 54 as Wayne instructed. He knocks on the door, hoping he didn't mess it up and is at the right place. What if it was 45?
It must have been because he was told Stephanie Harrington lives alone.
"Uh, sorry, I must have—"
"Are you Eddie?" The woman who opened the door takes him in. At her feet, a tabby cat peers curiously at the new human.
"Uh, yeah? I'm looking for Miss Stephanie?" he offers awkwardly. Maybe that's the friend? Or a sister?
But the woman extends her hand and smiles brightly.
"That would be me, but please call me Steph. I wish I could drill that into Wayne's thick skull." She rolls her eyes fondly.
Her big, gorgeous eyes, framed by thick lashes. She's not an old hag, she could be in her forties at best. She's tall and curvy and her hair looks straight out of a shampoo commercial. She's gorgeous. Eddie shakes her hand in a daze.
"Hi," he croaks as he's ushered inside.
"Come in, come in! I've heard so much about you, it's great to finally see you in person. I must say," she turns around and gives him a quick once-over. "Wayne's stories didn't do you justice."
Did she just check him out?
Eddie clears his throat, suddenly dry like his elbows during winter.
"Uh, same to you."
"Yeah?" She puts her hands on her hips, raising an eyebrow. "What does he say about me?"
"Good things only," Eddie assures her.
"So you're saying I'm a bitch." She squints at him.
"No!" His eyes widen. "What?!"
"Well, if he's saying only good things about me, and you say they don't describe me right..."
Eddie gets the point she's making and quickly shakes his head.
"No, he just made you sound like a crazy old cat lady, and you're..." He waves his hand uselessly. "Not that."
She sighs softly, shoulders sagging a little. It would be easy to miss but Eddie's senses are heightened after his fuck up.
"I kinda am, though," she says with a shrug.
Eddie feels the need to reassure her somehow.
"Well, you're not eighty and your place doesn't smell like cat litter, I think you're fine."
She barks a laugh, it's low and surprised and Eddie's cheeks are red because he's just digging further into the hole he's in, isn't he?
"Good to know the bar is so low."
Eddie groans, tired of doing damage control that's not controlling anything.
"I'm gonna shut up now."
"Please don't." Steph smiles wide and teasingly. "You're a funny one. Just like your uncle told me."
Eddie scoffs. He's going to have a word or two with the old man once he's back.
"Great, this is exactly the impression I was hoping to make."
At his words, the woman eyes him up and down again, and he can feel his cheeks heating up.
"Yeah? Not as the local punk satanist?" she teases, making Eddie bristle.
"Metalhead," he corrects instinctively and immediately winces.
"Ah, my bad. I'm not good at the subcultures thing." She smiles apologetically but it doesn't read well with how clearly amused she is. "Anyway, here's the plant I want you to water tomorrow evening. Just like, half a glass."
Right. Plants. Cats. He came here on a mission.
"Come on, I'll show you my cats."
There's only three of them and they come rushing from all corners of the flat at the rustle of a catnip bag. Eddie never saw high cats so he's glad to have this opportunity now. Stephanie points to the tabby he saw earlier.
"This is Dart, she's not actually mine, but my friend couldn't keep her at the dorms. This is Garfield," she points to the orange cat, making Eddie huff a laugh. She grins. "Yeah, don't tell anyone, but he's my favorite," she whispers, to which Eddie mimics zipping his mouth shut.
Lastly, she points to the black cat rolling on the carpet.
"And this is Arwen."
Eddie frowns.
"Like, The Lord of the Rings Arwen?"
"Yeah," Steph sighs. "Dustin named her. He's the friend I've mentioned. Dart is short for D'Artagnan and I've fought teeth and nail for Garfield not to be called Pippin."
"Pippin is a great name, though," Eddie points out.
"Maybe," she huffs, crossing her arms. "But I wanted one for myself, okay? Not everything has to be about Dustin."
"Is Dustin like, your brother or something?"
"Kinda?" She frowns. "We're not actually related but I babysat him, and then we became friends. He just stuck around, somehow." The words sound angry but her face betrays the fondness she has for her friends.
"That's nice," he offers. "I'm an only child, never met any cousins, and only ever had friends my age."
"Well, good for you. Maybe if I had friends my age I wouldn't be living alone with a bunch of cats."
Eddie frowns.
"Hey, now..."
She cuts him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"I'll show you where the food is."
Eddie's in a daze when he comes back downstairs, only realizing his visit ended when he's standing in his uncle's living room. He's been gone for only half an hour but it feels longer.
"How did it go?" his uncle asks, pulling him out of his reverie.
Edie turns to him and blinks, fighting the cotton around his brain.
"Fine?" he offers. "She's not as old as I expected," he admits bluntly. His uncle snorts.
"What, just because she lives alone with her cats you assumed she's on her deathbed?"
Eddie winces. It's exactly what he did.
"Well, the people in her life weren't kind to her, so now she relies on her pets. Nothing wrong with that." Wayne shrugs.
"What do you mean?" Eddie frowns, curious. Concerned. He goes to the kitchen, not wanting to seem too eager to get an answer, and grabs a beer for himself and his uncle. He opens the junk drawer to find an opener and hears his uncle answer from the adjacent living room space.
"She doesn't say much about it and I never asked, but she's always alone on the holidays. Her friends visit a few days before or after."
Eddie walks back in and hands his uncle the opened bottle.
"Thanks, son."
He nods and settles heavily in an armchair. Focusing his gaze on the label peeling off of his beer, he hums thoughtfully.
"No family?"
"Seems so." Wayne nods solemnly. "I think it was a conflict of lifestyle choices, but I'll be honest, I'm basing it off of rumors and my own assumptions." He scratches his cheek, frowning at the wall. "It's not my place to pry, though I offered to hear her out if she ever felt like needing an ear." He sighs. "I'm just trying to be a good neighbor. Invited her for dinner over Thanksgiving, when you couldn't come. I was surprised she's into basketball," he muses.
Eddie was seeking answers and now was even more confused.
"You invited Miss Stephanie. For a dinner?" He raised his eyebrows.
"Yes. She was alone, I was alone, figured I could at least ask. I'm still surprised she agreed. She declined all my other offers."
"Wow." A teasing smile creeps on his lips against his will. "You've been inviting a lot of women since I moved out?"
"Listen," Wayne takes on his stern voice and it takes all of Eddie's willpower not to cackle. He can see his uncle's mustache twitch. "Stephanie is a lovely lady, but she's way too young for an old man like me. And this old man is too old for romance anyway. Besides—" he cuts himself off like he realized he was saying too much. Which, of course, piques Eddie's curiosity.
"Besides?"
Wayne shrugs.
"I don't think I'd ever be ready for someone like her."
That deal with the devil/fae post where they want the summoner's first born in exchange, and the summoner goes "ok when do we start" BUT STEDDIE WITH STEVIE
She hasn't given up on that 6 nuggets dream but it's became quadruple hard now that she's transitioning, both because of dating and the technical stuff. So she figures, I'll ask a magical being for the right plumbing and it'll all be smooth(er) sailing from there.
Eddie the Banished is the demon, and he's like "of course sweetheart, but I get dibs on the first off spring".
And Stevie gets all red and stuttery at first but she is desperate and she figures, the sooner the better, and since he's already here and offering, she asks "Would you want to do all six?"
Eddie doesn't think more about Steph until there's a knock on the door on Saturday morning. He sighs, knowing it's his duty to open since his uncle would take forever on his crutch. And because he's a good nephew and wouldn't make him do that, of course.
He doesn't bother with the peephole, his sleepy brain basically forgetting of its existence. It's only when he opens the door and finds Steph with a duffel bag on the other side, that he realizes he went to open the door in nothing but his old Iron Man pajama bottoms.
"Good morning!" Steph greets him with a bright smile that falters a bit when her gaze drops to his tattooed chest. Eddie couldn't imagine a sight of zombie and spider tattoos giving him any credit in her pretty, middle-aged eyes. She quickly looks back up to meet his gaze. "Did I wake you up?" she asks, looking apologetic.
Eddie shakes his head, hoping it would send his hair over his shoulders, and cover him up a bit.
"I did!" Wayne pipes up from the kitchen. He sounds way too happy about running into a cupboard on his way out of the bathroom.
"Good morning, Mr. Wayne!" she calls out, making Eddie roll his eyes.
"You can just come in, no need to yell through the whole place."
"Right, sorry," she steps inside tentatively, her hand clutching the strap of her bag. She's wearing a colorful windbreaker and her hair is tied up, showing off the soft line of her jaw and the beauty marks on her neck. She heads to the kitchen, seemingly already knowing her way around, and Eddie closes the door behind her. He quickly runs off to his bedroom (/guest room, now that he's on campus most of the time) and grabs a t-shirt to cover his nipples, tattoos, and overall unattractiveness.
"Visiting Robin for the weekend?" He catches his uncle's question when he steps back in.
It rubs him the wrong way, not knowing who Robin is. Is he Steph's boyfriend? Maybe they're doing long-distance? He returns to the ancient coffee maker he had abandoned to open the door.
"Yeah. I haven't seen Rob since last month. Our days off finally aligned."
"Can't you stay there longer? I'm sure Eddie wouldn't mind taking care of your cats for a day or two more."
"Hey!" Eddie whips around to glare at his uncle. The coffee maker splutters behind him. "Don't just offer my services like that," he scoffs. Then, he turns to Steph. "I wouldn't, though."
She chuckles and he grins, simply happy to make her smile.
"Try dealing with them alone first, and then we'll talk. But, you really wouldn't mind? If I stayed a day longer?"
He shakes his head.
"Not at all." He still has Wayne's words fresh in his mind. That people weren't kind to her, that she doesn't have many friends to rely on. "I'm assuming Robin is someone important to you?" he half-asks, leaning against the counter all casually.
Just the thought of Robin makes Steph glow.
"She's my best friend. We met at our first job serving ice cream."
Eddie's a bit embarrassed at the relief of knowing Robin is a girl. Still, a best friend is higher in ranks than your friendly neighbour's nephew.
"What's it been? Twenty years?" Wayne asks. Steph nods, making him whistle. "I couldn't stand any of my coworkers for longer than a shift."
"Maybe you're bad at making friends," Eddie butts in. "I've known Gareth since high school and we're still going strong."
"You guys are band buddies, that's different," Wayne scoffs.
"You play in a band?" Steph picks up, her eyes shining with interest that Eddie squirms under.
"Yeah, we play metal though. Probably not your stuff."
She shakes her head.
"Any music can be good when you put your heart into it. My friends listen to all kinds of weird stuff, I've heard everything from classical to experimental techno." She rolls her eyes. "I'd love to hear your music if you have anything recorded. Or you could give me a heads up if you're playing somewhere."
All Eddie can do is stare at her, dumbfounded.
"Uh-huh."
Wayne, bless his sometimes useful soul, saves his ass by changing the subject.
"Coffee?" he asks the stunning woman at their table. She's just sitting there, in the Munson abode at their kitchen table while they're still in pajamas like it's normal. Eddie wants it to be normal. Wants to sit in her lap and listen to her laugh.
She looks at her watch. It's white, she must be cleaning it often.
"I only have fifteen more minutes before I really have to go."
"Half a coffee then," Eddie decides for her, grabbing the mugs. She chuckles.
"Fine." She rolls her eyes.
Each of them gets their coffee, and Eddie notes Steph takes her with just a splash of milk. Before he can ask anything, to push their small morning gathering further into a friendly small talk, she reaches into her pocket to fish out her house key.
"I came over to drop the keys," she says, pushing them towards Eddie. "And if you have something to write on, I'll give you Robin's house number in case of emergencies."
"Sure, yeah." He nods, standing up immediately to look for the notepad they plan the grocery list in. In his haste, he catches Wayne's amused stare. He sends him a frown, but the man is already looking away, which only further agitates him.
<< ok fine i give up i lost track of the cat emojis. this is part 8 | 9 >>
Eddie wakes up late the next day but isn't surprised to find his uncle sitting at the kitchen table with a coffee and a crossword puzzle in front of him. Tormenting his nephew has been his favorite pastime now that he is stuck at home, so of course he would wait for him to emerge from his room.
"Didn't catch you coming back last night. Must have left Stephanie's awfully late, huh?" he asks nonchalantly, tapping his pen against the paper without looking up.
"Mhm," Eddie hums, reaching for his favorite mug.
"Did Miss Stephanie arrive late?"
"She did." He tries to focus on making coffee, and not on his uncle's prying questions.
"Did she hold you back?" the man presses, unrelenting.
"We talked for a bit," Eddie eventually admits.
"How long?"
He fills up his mug with a frown before turning towards his uncle.
"What is this? A crime interrogation?" he raises his eyebrow with annoyance.
"I don't know." Wayne shrugs, finally looking up from his crossword to study his face. "Has a crime been committed?"
"I'm not banging your neighbor," Eddie hisses at his father figure with disdain. "Stop asking about it!"
His uncle sighs but seems to accept his defeat, at least for now.
"All I ask is that you keep an open mind. I don't think she'd be against the idea," he gives his last two cents before hiding behind the newspaper like a coward. "I know you're not," he adds under his breath.
Eddie barely catches it, but it makes his skin crawl with heat. He's beyond denying it at this point but he won't admit it either. If Stephanie ever makes a move, he won't say no, but he doesn't want to presume anything. Or worse, make her uncomfortable.
"I'm going to my room," he declares, carrying his coffee away.
A couple of days later, Eddie is standing in front of a hair salon, staring at the handwritten note on the door.
We close at 4 PM today, sorry for the inconvenience!
The opening times above declare that on weekdays, the shop should be open an hour longer, and Eddie worries that he misunderstood Stephanie's words. She told him to come in around 4 PM and she'll give him a haircut. But through the glass door, he can see her swiping the floor while talking to another hairdresser, a tiny woman who's cleaning up her station. It looks like they're closing up.
Then Stephanie looks up and spots him standing there like a dumbass, and she smiles, motioning him inside. So he pushes the door, moving the tiny bell above as he walks in.
"Hi," he says, nodding to the unfamiliar woman. "Am I too late? Or too early?"
Stephanie shakes her head, quickly putting the broom away.
"You're perfectly on time," she assures him. "You can leave your jacket there and pick whichever chair you like. Do you want something to drink? Tea, coffee, water?" she asks, already halfway to what he assumes is the backroom.
"Coffee would be great," he says a little stunned, shaking his heavy leather jacket off his arms. He feels extremely out of place in a space usually frequented by gossiping ladies. In the waiting area, there's a stack of fashion magazines on top a tiny round table, and two huge colorful armchairs. He throws his things on one of them before sauntering to the station that's furthest away from the street, wary of the peering eyes.
There are some in the salon with him, though.
"So you're Steph's special guest, huh?" the other co-worker asks conversationally.
"Uh, I'm just her neighbor," he corrects, not sure what the woman has been told.
She hums, giving her station a thorough wipe.
"She wouldn't close early for just any neighbor," she counters. "Give yourself some credit." She smiles at him through the mirror and disappears into the backroom before he can react or even process her words.
"Sorry for the wait!" Stephanie joins him soon after. "I hope Joyce didn't grill you much," she says, putting a mug of coffee in front of him.
"Well," Eddie wraps his hand around the hot ceramic. "She just called me your special guest." He wants to pry much more than that, but he knows the other woman, Joyce, can be within hearing distance.
"You kind of are." Stephanie tilts her head thoughtfully, before turning his chair around, so they can only look at each other through the mirror. "All my friends get special treatment."
"Of course," Eddie nods, torn between being happy and devastated by being called a friend.
"Unless you don't want to be friends with an old lady," she pouts.
What he wants is to suck on that bottom lip.
"You're not old!"
He startles when his voice is echoed, but it's just Joyce emerging from the back. She moves the jacket and bag she's holding to free one of her hands and smacks Stephanie on the shoulder.
"Listen to the boy if you're not gonna listen to me," she says heatedly. "If you're old then I should be dead. Now come here."
With an exasperated sigh, Stephanie leans down so Joyce can press a kiss on her cheek.
"I'm leaving, you kids don't do anything unsanitary, okay?"
"Joyce!"
She moves like a hurricane of energy and despite her teasing, Eddie can't help but smile. Joyce seems like the kind of person who treats everyone like her kids.
"What are you doing?" Stephanie asks suspiciously when Joyce hesitates by the door.
"I'm just gonna..." she trails off before starting to pull down the blinds on both the door and the windows. "So nobody bothers you two," she explains with a charming smile. "Okay, bye!" the bell finally chimes as she heads out. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
"See you!"
Eddie barely lifts his hand for a wave before there's just the two of them.
Stephanie breathes out and walks up to the door to lock it. The fact that they are now alone and hidden in a public space makes him hot under the collar. She could do to him anything she wanted right now.
Like cutting his split ends and conditioning his hair, of course.
"So." A radio buzzes to life, though it gets immediately turned to a lower volume. "As the one forced to sit there and endure my treatment, you get to pick the station," Stephanie smiles at him and he instructs her to his and Wayne's favorite frequency. The soft that starts playing is very quiet, and with the closed-off space he's found himself in, he feels like he's tripping.
"Do you have anything in mind?"
So many things but nothing appropriate to say out loud.
"Didn't you have a plan for me?" he raises an eyebrow at her reflection while she's thoughtfully tugging on his hair.
"Yes, but mostly haircare. And I don't know what's popular in the metalhead hair fashion right now."
He chuckles at that.
"Just keeping them long and adding some tease now and then. Nothing as extreme as punk's liberty spikes," he assures.
"Gotcha. But if you think of anything, let me know."
"You got it," he smiles.
i feel weird tagging only one person here but: @wheneverfeasible
Posting early so you have something to think about on Thanksgiving. I'll be taking a break from posting my wips in December to focus on all the events. Speaking of, check out @genderthings @stmonstercalendar and @stevieweek
"They're so—" Eddie's sentence is broken with a yelp when Stephanie slaps his hands.
"Fluffy?" Steph offers, going back to closing up her salon. "Soft? Healthy? They won't be if you keep touching them."
He huffs, slotting his hands under his armpits so he wouldn't be tempted to reach up.
"If you want, I can get you some of that conditioner to take home. You could charm all the city girls with your nice hair." She turns to him with a smile, looking over her work once again. She pulls a strand of his hair back in place and Eddie imagines his band making it big, touring with a private hairdresser fussing over him before every concert. They'd take all the cats on the tour bus too.
"The city girls like my unkempt poor artist looks, thank you very much," he jokes. "The boys may appreciate it, though."
"For the boys, then." She smiles. "Did you walk here?"
He shakes his head.
"Nah, I'm too lazy for that. You?"
"I try to walk to work as long as the weather lets me," she says. "Need to keep the old bones in shape." She pats her plush thighs distractingly, but it's not enough for Eddie to miss her words.
He rolls his eyes.
"Your bones aren't old. I was gonna offer you a ride, but maybe you deserve to walk since you're so young and energetic," he sends her a wry look.
"Ah, but I always wanted a ride in a big old kidnapper van!" She bats her eyelashes at him, her playful pout in full swing. Eddie is so, so weak.
"Don't call it a kidnapper van." He scrunches his nose. "It's a stoner slash garage band van," he corrects her.
"Ah, mea culpa. Lead me to your stoner van, then?"
"You call yourself old and yet you act so insufferable," he shakes his head with a smile and offers her his elbow.
"Gotta keep something about me young," she jokes back and then yelps when Eddie pinches her in the side as she grabs his arm.
"I think there's plenty young about you," he says, giving her a pointed up and down.
"Yeah, bet you say it to all the old ladies," she snarks back. "When you help them cross the street or carry their—ah!"
"Oh my gods, Stephanie!" Eddie cuts her off, pressing her against the side of his van. "If you think you're old then call me a geriatrophiliac, because you're so hot I can't think about anyone else."
Steph's eyes are wide and her cheeks are flushed and he wants to kiss her so badly. He backs away, though, because he's a gentleman (sometimes) and wants to give her some space. Besides, he probably just crossed some lines he shouldn't have.
She breathes out once he steps back, and chuckles.
"You're just saying that," she deflects, making something in Eddie boil. "You're out there in college and I'm stuck here with my small hair salon."
"Oh, you mean you're a successful hot businesswoman with her own salon and plans to branch it out?" He raises an eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips.
"Plans," she points out.
"Very plausible plans," he adds.
Stephanie shrugs.
"Just, get in the car before I lose my patience." He shakes his head. But then seeing her hesitance he deflates, losing his bravado instantly. "Unless you're not comfortable with that? I promise I'll drive you straight home."
"Why would I be uncomfortable?" she asks, her voice a little small like she knows exactly why but doesn't want to put it out there. Albeit reluctantly, Eddie will do it for her.
"Because I said I'm into you and now I'm inviting you inside my shady not-kidnapper van," he reminds her.
"Yeah, but you're just saying that to make me feel better." Steph shakes her head softly, smiling her small, self-deprecating smile. "Which I do appreciate, but..." she trails off with a shrug.
Eddie is fed up with her. As beautiful as she is, her head is a maze she's clearly getting lost in and someone needs to pull her out of it.
"Can I kiss you?" he butts in, realizing she's losing steam.
"What?" Her eyebrows jump in surprise.
"Oh, you heard me." He takes a step closer, crowding her in. Maybe space is the opposite of what she needs. "Can I kiss you?" he repeats. "On the mouth. Tongue and all, if you don't mind."
He watches in real time as her cheeks turn red and her gaze drops down to his lips.
"Here?" she breathes out.
"Yes, here. So everyone knows how lucky I am."
She looks up into his eyes, searching for any deceit but she won't find any. Her lips press together and come back shinier, wetter, and Eddie's own tingle in anticipation.
"Are you sure?"
Eddie's done with her. And done for her. He knows she won't admit what she wants, won't ask for it even when laid down on a silver platter in front of her. So he changes his question.
"Just say 'no'." He leans just a tiny bit closer.
She doesn't. Her eyes zero on his lips and her chest expands with her deep breaths. Eddie leans in more, and she twitches like she wants to reach back but won't.
He closes the distance.
Stephanie smells of hairspray and coffee. She's soft and perfect and he's afraid she'll flee if he touches her, but to ground them both, he reaches with his arms to cup her elbows, a safe place to hold her and not spook her. He moves his lips gently, slowly, but then he feels a tug on his jacket, which she grabs to hold on to him, and presses just a little bit closer.
Eddie feels the exhale from her nose on his cheek as she relaxes against the van, giving him the illusion of towering over her, despite them being almost the same height. He slowly drags his hands up to caress her neck, angling her jaw gently how he wants it. When he finally sucks on her pouty bottom lip as he's been dreaming of, she exhales into him, tentative yet asking. She jolts at the touch of his tongue but parts her lips further anyway.
She feels like heaven and Eddie is almost ashamed by the sound he makes after tasting her properly, but her hand slides to his waist and he doesn't care about making a fool of himself in front of her and anyone else for that matter.
If she wanted to, he'd deck himself in full jester attire just to make her smile, to take the load of worry off her chest. Oh, how he wants to take things off her chest. It's been a while since a simple kiss made him feel so giddy, so exhilarated, and he hopes she feels it too.
He's excited for what's to come, not just in bed, though he hopes, yearns for that too, but making her happy and whole, seeing herself how he sees her.
The sharp sound of a whistle pulls them apart.
"Get a room, kids!" someone laughs jovially as a car slowly passes by, but by the time their heads snap towards it, it's gone behind the corner.
"Well," Eddie chuckles softly. "Still feeling old?" he asks Steph with a smile that quickly falters when he can't read her expression. A million things he could have done wrong fleet through his head and he takes half a step back, but her hand is still holding on to his jacket.
She's still relaxed against the van, so he forces his brain to quiet and waits. Her head tips back, exposing her neck and the faintest hint of an Adam's apple, invisible otherwise. He's ridiculously happy to be able to see it and hopes he'll be able to suck on it too.
"I feel..." she finally says, and Eddie latches to every sound leaving her lips. "Something, for sure."
Nothing else comes so he trails his palm down her arm to gently squeeze at her wrist.
"Good something?" he asks hopefully.
Their eyes meet again, giving him some relief, though the prolonged silence is fighting against it. He still waits and gives her time to think. She doesn't shake off his hand so he rubs his thumb against her pulse point.
Until it twists in his grasp, and he's ready to let go but she grabs at his fingers to squeeze back.
"I think so," she finally decides, giving him a small, tentative smile.
my ko-fi bc i'm in deeper shit than i thought
the boys: @wheneverfeasible @steddieinthesun @hattsy-likes-pretty-stuff @bumblebeecuttlefishes @phantomcat94
if i didn't respond to your comment it's bc desktop tumblr didn't let me, I still love and appreciate y'all
Maybe tomorrow he'd bring his book here, and keep the cats company while he reads. Would they like it if he read it out loud?
Oh lord, the crazy cat lady energy must be rubbing off on him already.
The cats certainly are. He looks down at his black attire now speckled with cat hair, and sighs. He should have asked Steph where the lint roller was before she left. With great effort, he stands up from the comfy couch, vowing to himself to only do a cursory search with no unnecessary peeking.
The entrance seems like an obvious start since people like to de-hair themselves before leaving the house. The dresser next to the door is cluttered with typical things - sunglasses, hand lotion, chapstick, some loose change, and jewelry. No roller in sight. So he goes to the kitchen instead, because kitchen is where everything goes. The cats are watching him curiously from their chosen perches around the house.
"Stop it. This is all your fault."
He finally finds what he's looking for on a windowsill next to a dead fly. He starts cleaning his clothes there, next to the fridge, and its colorful display catches his attention.
There's an Ewok magnet that looks handmade, holding up a birthday card, and a few holiday photos, capturing smiling people in swimming costumes. Some of them look older, like the photo of a kid in a wizard robe, or a pair of bloodied-up teenagers in sailor costumes, which must be a very obscure reference because Eddie hasn't seen it at any costume party before.
The caption under the photo reads BFF but someone added a circle of smaller F's all around the photo, turning them into a frame. Which, if Eddie's connecting the dots correctly, would imply that it's Robin and Steph. The quality isn't the best, but at first glance, he's assumed it must be a family member, maybe a brother, but he remembers her saying she's an only child.
He tracks the other photos, but most of them are new, of the Steph he already knows. There might be more around the apartment, though.
But he's already rolled his shirt and he'll be back tomorrow morning anyway, so he quickly works on his pants' legs, gives the cats a wave, and leaves.
While walking back, he's apparently so lost in his thoughts, he gets startled by his own uncle.
"The cats still alive?"
"Do you want?! Me?! To die?!" Eddie screeches, eyes wide and a hand on his heart, the other holding him upright against the wall. "Why the fuck are you sitting there in the dark?!"
Wayne looks pointedly at the lamp next to him, then to his nephew. Aside from his reading nook in the corner though, the living room has no other light sources right now, but Eddie just throws his hands in defeat, deciding not to argue. Especially not when his uncle finally folded and was reading Blade Runner.
"Must have been thinking some guilty thoughts, huh?"
"Excuse me?" Eddie takes a step back from his course towards the kitchen. His uncle was flipping a page in his book, clearly not reading but not looking up from it either.
"To get scared like that. Did you do something bad, son?" He finally looks up, and Eddie doesn't like it. He looks exactly like his friends just before teasing him about something. "Saw something you shouldn't have?"
Eddie folds his arms and sticks his nose up, hoping the evening darkness hides his warming cheeks.
"I don't know what kind of panty raiding you do up there, but I'm not a pervert."
"Panty riding, huh?" Wayne raises his eyebrows in interest. "That what you boys do in college these days?"
"Do you want a sandwich? Some tea maybe?" Eddie has already turned his back to him and is switching the light on in the kitchen. "And the cats are fine, thanks for asking!"
"Yes and yes. Thank you!"
Eddie prepares them sandwiches and teas and grabs his own book so they can read in silence waiting for the evening news. It's nice to have this, a break from busy and loud college life, just sharing silence and love for books with his uncle.
That is, of course, until Wayne looks at his watch and puts the book down to exchange it for a remote. Eddie likes to keep his nose in the book until the news become too distracting or he catches something interesting being reported on. His uncle has other plans for him this time.
"You know it's alright to like her, right?"
Eddie lowers his book, slightly incredulous that Wayne is still talking about it. He looks at him with wide eyes.
"You really want me to fuck your neighbor, huh?"
Finally, his uncle gets a taste of his own medicine, almost choking on the tea that he unfortunately decided to sip on at that moment. Eddie: one, Wayne: zero.
But later, the score evened out again, as all Eddie could think of while trying to sleep were the pictures on the fridge, and plowing his uncle's neighbor into her mattress until she screamed.
The next morning, with not enough sleep under his belt, Eddie skips two sets at a time, because he totally absolutely royally forgot about the fucking plant.
He fumbles with the keys, can hear the inquisitive meows on the other side of the door, and once he's in he takes a beeline to the kitchen, ignoring the little creatures following him like they have been starving on the streets and he was a fresh batch of tuna factory waste.
The plant looks normal, the same as it did 24 hours ago, and he waters it as per instructions while trying not to even brush its leaves because he truly believes his touch might kill it. His track record with plants indicates so. Only then does he turn to the meowing bunch at his feet.
"Hello, little demons. Time to feast."
The cats are fed, their mouths making unpleasant wet noises against the equally wet food, and Eddie has a moment to take a curious walk around the place, in search of more photos.
He finds a wedding photo, with Steph in a pink dress and stunning make up dancing with a man with curly hair. There's one from a barbecue, where Steph is being hugged by a tall man with a mustache. She's wearing jean shorts and a sweater in this one, and somehow, looks a bit off. It looks older than the wedding one.
But a true treasure chest is the huge frame he finds above a small bookcase.
It's a collage titled 'The fucking journey' that seems to be a collection of Polaroids from a multitude of workplaces, with the same two people present. Year after year, one job after another, until they got where they are today.
It starts with a 1983 and the sailor costumes he's already seen. They are less bruised and more tired in this one. Knowing where to start, Eddie's eyes track from one photo to another, observing Stephanie's features, her wardrobe, and her hair change until she becomes the woman she is today.
There was no boy in that photo on the fridge. It's always been her. Growing into herself.
Is this what his uncle was talking about? Well, not talking, but being annoyingly vague about it, like he wasn't sure what he was talking about himself.
Fear not, Uncle Wayne. Eddie's going to pick up every pamphlet and every zine he can put his hands on, to educate them both about who their neighbor is, how to navigate the topic and respect her the way she deserves.
It's pure torture, sitting in a salon chair. Eddie briefly wonders how women can endure all this treatment and how many of them experience their first homoerotic thoughts under a hairdresser's touch.
The only time anyone is this hands-on with him is during sex, and even then it wildly depends on the partner. His body can't comprehend that it's not a bedroom setting, despite the intimacy of drawn curtains and soft music, and that it is not the time to pop a boner.
Thankfully, Stephanie swiftly distracts him with questions about his interests, which always works on his nerdy brain. The fact that she's no longer massaging shampoo into his scalp also helps.
"I'm going to cut about this much, okay?" she asks after a moment of brushing and D&D talk, holding up the ends of his hair so he can see.
"Sure. There's so much of it you can cut more," he jokes but Stephanie cocks her head, pursing her mouth.
Gods he wishes she'd stop making her lips look so kissable.
"Don't you want to grow them out even more? I think it would look good."
She could also stop praising his hair and overall look.
"You think I could pull off ass-long elvish hair?" he smiles at her mirror reflection.
"Hm..." She looks at him completely seriously, plays with the hair around his face, and traces the line of his cheeks with the tips of her nails. Whatever vision of him Steph is conjuring in her mind, she seems to like it. "I think yes. Absolutely," she decides, but Eddie doesn't remember what he has just asked.
"Only the ends, then?" she asks, backing away so he can release the breath he's been holding.
"Yeah. Just the ends." He tries to nod, but she swiftly taps her comb on the top of his head.
"Don't move your head unless I say so," she scolds him with a played-up frown.
"Yes ma'am," he's quick to agree. It's her kingdom and all that. Also, she's maneuvering sharp objects around his head.
"Good boy," Stephanie smiles again and one of these sharp object might as well have just pierced his heart.
He knows he won't leave this ordeal unscathed.
"Could you dye just a streak of my hair? Some weird color, like red?"
Eddie can see her little smile in the mirror. It's a knowing smirk like she was anticipating that question, and this hint of condescension makes her look hot as Hell.
"If you want red-red and not ginger-red, then I'd have to order the dye," she says, thoughtfully combing through his hair. Stephanie works fast, though, so he's pretty sure she should be done soon. There's another snip of her scissors before she straightens up to look at him properly.
"As you can imagine, there aren't many adventurous metalheads in Hawkins to work on."
"I'll let you know that during longer breaks there are at least four."
Stephanie laughs.
"Your bandmates, right? But are they all as willing to experiment with their hair?" She raises her eyebrow, and she's suddenly up in his face. The counter behind her creaks under her weight and Eddie wonders how nice it would be to feel it on his lap.
"Well... Gareth's been growing it out," he offers.
"If he has anything in mind, let me know," she smiles. "I should probably look more into what's new and hip among kids anyway."
"If you weren't holding scissors, I'd pinch you," Eddie scoffs. "New and hip among kids," he repeats under his breath.
Stephanie rolls her eyes.
"There's a big difference in hairstyles between Hawkins and Indianapolis though, you can't deny that." She straightens up again to wet her comb in the sink. "Close your eyes."
He does as he's told.
"Would you want to be—" his breath catches embarrassingly when her damp fingers touch his chin to angle his head where she wants it. "—a hairdresser in a city like that?" he asks.
She hums in affirmation as she combs through his fringe. A stray droplet falls on his nose and she swipes it away with her finger. Eddie wants to lick it clean.
"I've been saving for a second salon, actually. The prices in the city are crazy though."
"Really?" Eddie raises his eyebrows since it's all he can do right now, considering there's a snip of scissors way too close to his eye. He thinks about having Stephanie up in Indianapolis with him. In the same city, that is, close enough to drop for a friendly visit. He could show her all his favorite places, too.
She hums.
"Do you cut your fringe yourself?" she asks suddenly.
Eddie sighs.
"Does it show?"
"Not really," she chuckles. "You did a good job, honestly. It's slightly choppy, but it suits you, so I'm just gonna even it out and leave it like that."
"Oh. Thank you."
She hums again, snipping some hair by his left temple.
"If I didn't like working with hair, staying here would be torture," she picks up their previous topic. "I got this place shortly before Robin had to move, and I felt stuck in Hawkins without her. But I'm making good money here so I figured I could save enough for a place over there." She combs his fringe again, snips once, and then he can hear a clank when she puts her tools away.
"How much more do you need?" Eddie asks and then jumps when she touches his face again, dusting stray hair from his cheeks.
"A bit," she says, but it sounds like more than that. "I was going to sell this place to add to it, but then Robin was talking about opening a chain, so now I'm training Joyce to take over here. Don't tell her though." She bops his nose suddenly, making him squeak. "It's kind of a surprise and I need time to figure it out. You can open your eyes."
Eddie blinks his eyes open and smiles as soon as he can see Stephanie again. But she moves aside, to reveal the mirror behind her.
"I know it's not much, but is that okay?"
There's indeed not much of a difference, other than his hair being an inch or two shorter and his fringe laying a bit better against his skin.
"Yes, I'm never cutting it by myself," he says, lightly brushing the hair framing his face with his fingers.
"I can totally do it for you whenever you visit," she agrees easily. "Now, do you want some color in your hair anyway? Because I could bleach that streak you want dyed later, but we would have to deal with the roots when you come back."
Eddie hums thoughtfully.
"How light can you go? Can you give me like, a white Bride of Frankenstein streak?"
Stephanie snorts at that.
"I'm afraid not." She purses her lips, gently rubbing a lock of his damp hair between her fingers. "At least not with what I have on hand. Your hair isn't that thick but it's dark enough to be a challenge for bleaching. I may be good, but I'm not good enough to promise it wouldn't burn to a crisp." She smiles apologetically.
"I'll wait for the red dye, then." Eddie shrugs. "No problem."
"Okay. I'll grab the conditioner then, and we should be done soon." Stephanie pats his shoulder and he briefly considers asking her for something outlandish just to keep her working with his hair.
