Prompt Day 22: “Clap on, clap off, The Clapper!” | Word Count: 997 | Rating: M | CW: push and shove, language | POV: Steve | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: i’m borrowing Band Manager!Steve but making it enemies to lovers, Famous Corroded Coffin, Eddie calls it Selling Out, Steve calls it Paying Our Damn Bills
“Absolutely f–”
“Language!”
“–ucking not. Absolutely not, Harrington. I don’t care what they offered.”
“What did they offer?” Gareth asks, curiously.
“Traitor,” Eddie hisses.
“A lot,” Steve says, arms folded, the world’s bitchiest expression trained directly on Eddie – the lone dissenter. “Like enough to have us on the road for a year, easy. Enough to replace your kit–” Gareth’s drumkit has seen better days, and those better days were like two decades ago, “–enough to replace all your instruments if you wanted.”
Eddie is returning Steve’s stare with equal intensity, and Steve hates that his gut heats every time Eddie narrows those big brown eyes at him. Steve might be bitchy, but Eddie’s brand of mean is bratty; the gorgeous rockstar who can get anything he wants, who can always get his way, hamstrung by the band manager who tries to keep the four of them on earth.
They’re kind of friends? In that they’d die for each other – almost did – and Eddie had decked that skeezy club manager who’d been so horrible to Steve that one time, and Steve had gone nuclear on that chick Eddie had briefly dated who had not only been using him for the advancement her quote-unquote acting career – and Steve uses the term acting very sarcastically, because she was shit – but also fucking another guy on the side. Eddie is protective, and possessive, and Steve is jealous, but if you’d asked them they’d say they fucking hate each other.
Maybe it’s fairer to say they just know exactly how to push each other's buttons and rile the other up after all these years, but the mortal enemies angle is good for media attention. It lets Eddie say bitchy things – “Our manager you know, he’s a penny-pinching asshole, you’ll have to ask him directly why we haven’t done Oceania yet,” – in the press, without grievously offending anyone important in the industry.
Jeff sing-songs, “Clap on, clap off, The Clapper!” and Eddie hisses at him too, but is ignored. “That’s easy. We should do it.”
“It’s selling out,” Eddie says loudly. No one listens.
“Can we sing it rock ‘n’ roll style, not jingly?” Frank asks, like Eddie isn’t even there.
“Of course,” Steve says congenially. He loves when the boys take his side over Eddie’s. He knows they’re sick of the both them, of their bickering and their tension. Jeff has said more than once, you know there’s a thin line between love and hate right, and Frank, who’s far less subtle, has outright told Steve to just, “Fuck Eddie, or get fucked by him, it doesn’t matter, but maybe it’ll calm you both down.”
“They want you to do the ad in your style,” Steve adds, ignoring Eddie’s louder, “Absolutely not!”
“Ed, come on,” Jeff says, ever the voice of reason. “Think of the money.”
Corroded Coffin are on the rise, and fast, but money like that would make the next year so much more stress-free. It’s easily enough to take their time recording their next album, to tour, or even to take a break from touring if they’re exhausted, without having to worry about cashflow.
“It’s selling out!” Eddie repeats, shouting, and he’s such a fucking idiot, Steve can’t take it.
“Munson, hallway, now,” he snaps, not waiting to see if Eddie follows him.
He does, arms already crossed, his expression thunderous. “I’m not letting my band join the ranks of corporate sellouts, making soulless garbage, Steve, we’ve been over this before, about the integrity of the–”
Steve shoves him, and that shuts him up quick. Eddie blinks, those life-ruining eyes all wide and shocked and Steve loves that look on him, can easily imagine it as his view from above while Eddie’s on his knees and– focus Harrington. They’ve never come to physical blows before.
Eddie’s lush mouth presses into a thin line; he uncrosses his arms and shoves Steve right back.
“Have I steered you wrong yet?” Steve says, with another shove. “Have I done anything that’s not in the best interests of this band?” Shove. “I know it’s your baby,” shove, “I know–”
Eddie shoves back again, his fingers curling in Steve’s shirt and holding on. “You just have to push me don’t you, you just have to push–”
Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s talking about the physical pushing at all, and Steve’s half-hard already because this is years of tension, years since he’d been shoved against a boathouse wall and has thought about that physical dominance ever since – at first thinking he hated it, hated the way it made him feel weaker, but then thinking about the way Eddie’s grip on his collar had yanked at the last second so Steve wouldn’t hit the back of his head on the wall…
“Just trying to get you to admit you actually want it,” Steve hisses, and he’s not talking about the band or the lifestyle or the fucking clapper ad either.
“Oh fuck you, Harrington, you already know,” Eddie snarls, and then he’s shoving Steve against the wall again and his mouth is on Steve’s – hot and hard, despite the softness of his lips, demanding and taking and not fucking asking anymore. Steve answers in kind, fisting his hands in Eddie’s hair and tugging, because they’ve been asking each other for too long – dancing around their feelings, both asking the other through inaction to make the first move, arguing like it’s fucking foreplay. Steve laughs into Eddie’s mouth, and gets kissed harder for it – maybe it was foreplay.
“I’ll do your fucking ad,” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips, “if I get something in return.”
“You already know you can have anything you want. Everything you want,” Steve snaps. Eddie’s thigh slides between his own and he bites out a moan.
Eddie’s grin says he knows Steve isn’t talking about just payment for doing the ad. Steve doesn’t give a fuck anymore. Eddie’s mouth is worth his pride.
Prompt Day 25: smoking section | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: smoking | POV: Eddie | Pairing(s): Steddie | Tags: Famous Corroded Coffin, AU - no Upside Down, sharing a cigarette (the sluttiest thing two people can do)
“You’re him, right? The music guy?”
Eddie looks up from his examination of his fingernails. There’s a guy standing in the entrance of the smokers’ section, wearing a polo shirt that denotes him as venue barstaff. He’s got a glorious swoop of hair, that Eddie, as something of a hair guy himself, can appreciate. He also looks exhausted – understandable, given Corroded Coffin had packed the house out tonight. Poor guy was probably run off his feet.
“The music guy?” Eddie echoes, around his cigarette. He doesn’t do groupies, so if this is that then he’ll be pretending to be anyone other than who he is.
“Yeah,” the guy says, though a note of doubt does creep into his tone. Perhaps not. “You know, with the guitar or whatever.”
He mimes playing the guitar, which – dorky. Cute. It’s both. Eddie likes both, so to speak, he plays for both teams. He runs his eyes over the guy again, noting he’s very good-looking. “That’s me,” he says, chuckling. He digs in his pocket for his pack, and holds it out. “Want one?”
The guy takes one, and Eddie lights it for him. He mirrors Eddie, leaning against the wall with about a foot between them. Eddie watches him in his peripheral vision; he takes a few leisurely drags, tipping his head back against the wall and closing his eyes.
“Did you enjoy the show?” Eddie asks, after a while. He’s curious, but not hopeful – Mr Handsome looks very straight-laced, very pop-rock, very church on Sundays.
“I could see this much of you from the bar,” the guy says, framing his face between his two hands from his eyebrows to the top of his head.
“And yet you still came looking, huh?” Eddie can’t help himself, can’t help dipping his toe in the waters to test them – he’s a born flirt.
Gorgeous shoots him a bitchy sideways look that sets Eddie’s heart aflutter, especially when the corner of his mouth twitches ever-so-slightly. “I don’t know that the sound is for me,” he says, with distaste, the way one would say a daily colonoscopy is not for them.
Eddie might be in love.
“Ed! Come on dude, we gotta go!” Jeff calls from the doorway. Eddie lifts himself away from the wall, ashing his cigarette and tossing Handsome a charming grin and a waggle of his fingers.
“See you tomorrow night,” he croons, following Jeff out.
***
“It could grow on me,” Mr Handsome says, appearing and taking his spot against the wall in the smokers’ section near Eddie.
“What could? Mould? Probably need to get that checked, big boy.”
Oh that look of bitchy contempt. Eddie’s going to write a love song about it.
“I mean, if you want to compare your music to mould,” he says, lifting a brow. He sticks out his hand and opens and closes it in a give me gesture. Eddie’s already handing over a cigarette.
“Either way, you came back,” Eddie says, running his tongue along his bottom lip. Mr Handsome’s gaze follows the motion for a flicker of a heartbeat before it darts away.
“I work here. I have to come back.”
“No, I think it’s me, I think you’re obsessed with me and you’re Corroded Coffin’s biggest fan,” Eddie teases. Their shoulders brush, leather against polo. Behind Mr Beautiful’s head, Gareth appears, gesturing for Eddie to hurry up.
“There’s that famous rockstar ego, huh?” Handsome says.
“Guilty. I’ll see you tomorrow night,” Eddie calls over his shoulder as he leaves. “Third and final show.”
“I wouldn’t count on it!”
***
Gorgeous is already waiting for him the next night.
“Steve.” When Eddie lifts a questioning brow, Gorgeous points at himself. “I’m Steve.”
He doesn’t offer Eddie a pack of cigarettes – he offers Eddie his own lit one. Eddie takes it, their fingertips brushing. Steve watches Eddie bring the cigarette to his lips, his eyes trained on Eddie’s mouth, on the way they indirectly kiss by touching the same spot. Eddie feels it so acutely, more than he has in a long time – the loneliness of the road and the lifestyle that he’s been ignoring, the deep longing for his person. It’s a strange thing, to miss someone you haven’t even met yet.
But Eddie’s had the beautiful bartender – Steve – on his mind for two days now.
And Eddie… well Eddie’s never exactly played it safe.
“You know the French have a saying,” he begins, conversationally, “‘qui allume encule,’ which roughly says, ‘light their cigarette, fuck them in the ass.’” He holds the cigarette out for Steve to take back.
He’s gone very still though, and Eddie tenses, suddenly aware that Steve is clearly athletic stock; probably well and truly capable of kicking Eddie’s ass. Maybe he read this wrong, maybe Steve wasn’t looking at him like that, maybe he’s been alone so long he can’t read signs anymore–
“You just threatening me with a good time, or you gonna follow through?” Steve asks, low and husky.
Eddie blinks, because he didn’t realise they were standing so close – they’re facing each other, their shoulders against the wall, a scant six inches between their chests. Eddie can smell his delicious cologne, and see the green in his hazel eyes. Steve tilts his head, rocking a little closer. They’re alone in this smokers’ section, the venue already closed up for the night.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Eddie says regretfully. His hand finds Steve’s hip, and slips around to his lower back.
Steve shrugs. “I don’t like this job much. My best friend has always wanted to design band merch.” Both his hands rest on Eddie’s chest.
“Did you just hire yourself to my crew?” Their noses brush.
“Someone has to come keep your ego in check.” Steve’s mouth ghosts against the corner of Eddie’s lips.
“I promise you none of this is deflating my ego,” Eddie says, and before Steve can answer, he captures his open mouth in a kiss.
Steve taking billy on a date and pulling out all the stops. He brings billy flowers and billy is so stunned he can’t say anything bad about it because no one’s gotten him flowers before and he didn’t even know it was something he wanted. Steve holds the door open for Billy while getting in his car and Billy does make a joke about that but Steve doesn’t take the bait and just gives him a cheesy grin. He pays for Billys movie ticket and has them sit in the back row of this horror movie. And Billy loves horror movies, so does Steve but Billy finds himself wishing he was scared so he could get closer to Steve. Steve ends up grabbing Billys hand and entwining their fingers anyway which makes it hard for Billy to grab popcorn but he doesn’t even care. They go to the diner for burgers and milkshakes after and Billy can’t stop the grin when Steve opens the car door for him again. The date feels so easy and natural that Billy doesn’t really get why all the other dates he’s been on feel so forced. The diner is so casual and nice and Steve knows exactly what Billy wants and gets them fries to share between them and their hands keep brushing against each others when they reach at the same time. Steve keeps grinning at him, asking him questions in a low voice and catches Billy’s ankle with his own underneath the table. Steve pays for the food, giving Billy a wink and then they’re back in Steves car. Billy doesn’t want this date to end and Steve pulls over before they get back to Billys place and gives him a kiss. Billy doesn’t even kiss back it was so quick and it felt so good, so right. Steve laughs at Billys stunned expression and then leans in again and this time Billy kisses back. Eventually they continue to Billys place and Billy really doesnt want to go inside, doesn’t want this date to be over. He doesn’t turn around until he’s at the door and he finds Steve still parked out front, waving like a dork and Billy gives him a shy wave. Steve holds up a hand and makes the universal phone signal and Billy blushes and turns around immediately to go inside. Steve does call him the next morning, says he has a great time and wants to know if Billy wants to go out again.
what if shane started doing yoga to increase his flexibility because after his first time with ilya his hip flexors hurt more than anything else. but he loooooved getting folded in half like that so much (and the look that ilya always gets when they’re pressed that much closer to each other) that he decided he just needed to get better at being bendy and yoga seemed like a good way to do that. so he asked both the goalie AND the physical therapist for the metros on ways to improve flexibility, especially in his hips, but then he had to come up with a reason why he was asking on the spot bc he obviously couldn’t just tell them it was so he could be better at bottoming for his arch fucking rival and it’s not like he was going to change positions on the ice and start playing goalie, so he panicked and made up something about bad hips running in his dad’s family and he didn’t want to have to get a hip replaced in his late 30s so he was trying to get ahead of it.
so the pt gives him some specific stretches to do (some of which will also improve his already impressive back arch) but also recommends he take up yoga, and shane rolls his eyes about it later in his car (because doing it in front of the pt would be rude) but then he figures “what the hell, can’t hurt to try” and finds that he actually really likes it. it makes his brain calm down a bit, it’s not totally quiet up there but it feels more like a manageable trickle of thoughts instead of the uncontrollable tsunami that his brain usually feels like. it’s nice, he can focus on the stretch of his muscles and the way that the constant vice-like pressure in his chest loosens a bit. plus, if it will make his hookups with ilya even better, it’s gotta be worth it.
of course, ilya has no idea that shane took up yoga essentially for him, and shane’s never going to tell him because he knows ilya will tease him about it for the rest of their lives. but every time that ilya pushes his knees up to his chest when they’re getting down and dirty he gets a little spark of satisfaction and accomplishment in his chest knowing that he did this for them, he put in the work to make these moments even better. he’ll put up with ilya’s chirps about how boring he is when he does his yoga because he knows it’s so worth it.
Shane also needs to interact with other gay men just to understand how truly lucky he is. He needs to hear someone go off about going on Grindr to find a top for the night and then finding out that all of the guys who have the 'Hung' tag on their profile are packing like five and a half inches at MOST and then Shane has to be like "Oh that. Yeah that sounds rough." Meanwhile he lost his anal virginity to a knockout with model looks who works out for a living and started their relationship by jerking his enormous hog at him in a communal shower which has always been one of Shane's top five fantasies. And he's literally never had to be on The Apps because he's the bottom of all time actually and the DomTop with the enormous dick imprinted on him like a fucking duckling the first time Shane came untouched under him which was, I cannot stress this enough, when he LOST HIS VIRGINITY.
Like shut the fuck up Shane Hollander how does it feel to be the chosen one. He has to confront all of this because he needs to know that he has, once again, won at life in every meaningful way. And then he can sit there like :] while that sad bottom over there bemoans the Grindr biome.
College AU Russian studies major Shane Hollander forgets to tell the fuckbuddy he met through his speaking tutor Svetlana Vetrova that he is fluent in Russian and that he understands phrases like "you're so fucking perfect" and "you have ruined me" and "you look like a sexy librarian you perfect slut"
The longest ongoing argument between Shane and Ilya is who made the first move. Their friends and teammates have learned to never ask that question or they'll argue about it for hours.
"So, how did you two meet?" That was fine, safe territory.
They both answered the same way, "a parking lot in Saskatchewan when we were 17."
But, the question, "so who made the first move?" Unsafe territory, turn back now.
"You introduced yourself to me!"
"That wasn't making a move! You organized a whole photoshoot."
"You shook my hand, twice! You looked me up and down!"
"I did not!"
"You had a crush on me."
"You had a crush on me!"
"You called me a hot player to watch."
"I did not and you know that, Rozanov."
"My English wasn't good."
"You - okay, draft night?"
"What about it? Oh, when you kept staring at my cock?"
"No! When you kept touching my hand and had your legs all spread in front of me!"
"You were staring at me."
"You winked at me."
"You took water bottle."
"Because you told me to!"
"Well, you were blushing on photoshoot."
"You called me pretty, twice!"
"You were laughing!"
"So were you!"
"Because you kept looking at me like - like that!"
"You told me you organized the shoot!"
"You agreed to it! You wanted to see me again."
"You starting jerking off at me in the shower!"
"Only because you were checking out my ass!"
"I was not!"
"Yes, you were! I would not do that if you were not checking me out!"
"You asked for my room number!"
"You waited for me to come out of the shower - I gave you time to leave!"
"I was drying my hair."
"You were waiting for me."
"I was not, I just wanted to talk!"
"Talk! You wanted to talk to hot Russian you invited to your room at night?"
For most of his career, Shane has had a strict schedule of a 6 am run. The weather doesn't always allow for it, in which case he uses the home gym, but he really prefers starting his day with running outside.
The only exception was whenever he or Ilya slept over. Their time together was so limited that Shane sacrificed his strict 10 pm bedtime and 6 am run for evenings spent in Ilya's arms and lazy mornings in bed together.
So the first time Ilya really becomes aware of this habit is after Shane moves to Ottawa. He wakes up, careful not to disturb Ilya, and sneaks out of their bedroom and when Anya wakes up to the sound of him moving around the house, and starts whining at the door, what is he supposed to do other than take her with him on his run?
When Ilya eventually gets up, Shane is back home, freshly showered and sitting on one of their barstools, enjoying his morning smoothie. Ilya appears, bleary eyed eyed and half-asleep, in a robe and wordlessly places a kiss on the crown of his head before gathering Anya's leash and whistling for her to come so they can walk around the garden and she can take care of her business. Shane tells him that's not necessary, they went for a run this morning and Ilya reacts as though this is high treason. He accuses Shane of robbing him of quality time with his daughter and leaving him out of family bonding. It's mostly done in jest but Shane can see that there's a grain of something there.
Which is how Shane reluctantly agrees to move his runs to 7 am and they become a family activity.
crucially shane knows very well the telltale signs of ilya entering two pump chump mode (the slight rise of the pitch of his voice, the shaky grip on his hips, that one specific tone of groan) and it activates brat behaviour like a sleeper agent and while shane doesn’t typically talk much shit in bed, the moment he knows ilya is in it, he cannot stop talking ooh yeah baby want you to ruin that hole, want to feel you for days, no one fucks me like you do, you were made to make me cum baby
the way rr/tierney introduce ilya is so funny to me because when you first see him you're just like jeez this guy is such an asshole why is he like this. and then seconds later it's just like um it's because he has a 1) dead mom 2) who killed herself 3) an abusive dad 4) with alzheimers 5) a brother 6) who verbally abuses him on the phone 7) when ilya refuses to wire him 50 bands all at once 8) all while he spends new years eve all alone in the grossest motel you've ever seen 9) and he's bisexual.
and you're just like. well shit. that will do it i guess.
New headcanon that even though Shane is a millionaire, his parents still technically pay his phone bill because it's cheaper on the family plan and it's a pain to change phone plans and deal with phone companies and the plan they're on has good coverage in Canada and the US without roaming charges so it's just more convenient to stay on his parents' plan.
They insist he doesn't need to pay them back, it's only like $40/month, and it's only a drop in the bucket compared to the money Shane's spent on them so Shane lets it go. When Ilya gets settled in Canada, the Hollanders find out he's paying like $200/month for some fuck-ass phone plan he picked out at 18, so he gets added to the Hollander family phone plan too.
Shane and Ilya just sitting on the couch, touching toes, Shane's clearly thinking about something so Ilya annoys it out of him, even though Shane is reluctant cause its gonna come out embarrassingly soft.
"I'm just thinking about when we met. There should have been some sort of sign."
"There was, you pointed out the no smoking sign, was first thing you said."
Shane smiles, "sure but it just seems crazy to me that I met you and no one told me that I'd just met the most important person I'll ever know."
Ilya felt like he'd just been sideswiped by his husband. It was so like Shane to just be thinking the most romantic thing Ilya's ever heard while Ilya's playing candy crush.
"I thought that I'd found the thing that would make me happiest in the world already, and I did, because hockey led me to meeting you. It's just crazy is all"
And well. Ilya can't not fuck him after hearing that.
If there's one thing the Centaurs were not prepared for when Hollander joined their team, it's just how much of an asshole he is. Like, pretty early on Shane's first season with the Cens, Dillon misses a pass from him in practice and Shane immediately goes "did you leave your contacts at home?" in a perfectly bland, inoffensive tone and Dillon, genuinely confused, says, "I don't wear glasses..." and Shane immediately retorts with "well, you clearly need them so I'd schedule an eye test" and then just skates away with the puck while the rest of the Centaurs are left gaping behind him except for Ilya who is folded over with laughter
I need somewhere to talk about AUs that are never going to be fics honestly because today I'm thinking about Princess Diaries Shane, where Shane's been raised by David his whole life because of pressures from the crown, until Yuna shows up, tells him that he's now an heir to the throne because his uncle died, making Yuna the queen. Shane needs to trained to be next in line because she can't have any more children.
And Ilya is the son of a diplomat and they absolutely cannot fall in love but boy do theyy. I'm imagining like Heated Rivalry, Princess Diaries 1 & 2, and RWRB all in one
stormborns
pixelskylines
origamiaround
turnnoffyourmind
baratheonpilled
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
amandla
gracieabrams
