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lovemesomeeddiemunson · 1 year ago

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The Proposal - Part 2

Summary: When Steve Harrington is threatened with deportation, he blackmails his long suffering assistant, Eddie Munson, into marrying him. Steddie! The Proposal Au, Modern Au, Part 2 of 7. 4252 Words

Series Warnings: Blackmail. Food mentions. Mentions of unhealthy relationship with food. Cursing. Self harm (by means of tattooing.) Homophobia. Death of a parent. Abandonment by parents. Shitty parents. Homophobic parents. Parents with entitlement. Classism. Eventual sexual situations (no actual smut!) Brief allusion to a panic attack. Minor spoilers for Flight of Icarus.

Authors Note: It should be noted that this is a fully completed fic, I've just broken it up for ease of posting. I can be motivated to post faster, if readers find themselves engaged.

Also, credit and praise to @steddiecameraroll-graphics for the D20 crown header used from here on out - fyi, I’m obsessed.

Additional thanks and love to @be-my-wonderland for her help with the Italian translations.

When Eddie and Steve arrive at the immigration office, Steve immediately bullies his way past the line and to the front counter.

Charming the disgruntled with carefully placed Italian, he offers more than one apologetic “Mi scusi,” the words flowing from his lips with a smile that makes several people swoon...

Eddie may or not be among them.

Once Steve’s secured his standing in line with his ill-gotten means, he then directs that same charm to the employee working the counter as he tells her, “I need you to file this fiancé visa for me, please.”

After taking and looking over his file, the older woman addresses him, with an inquisitive, “Mr. Harrington?”

“Yes.” Steve nods.

She gestures for him and Eddie both to follow her, pushing her glasses up her nose as she instructs. “Please come with me.”

As they leave the front counter, she leads them into an office where Eddie sits down as they wait by themselves. Steve’s still standing, lurking over by the door, glued to his phone, typing like there’s no tomorrow.

Business as usual, his fiancé is. A thought that unsettles Eddie even more deeply as he whispers “I have a bad feeling.”

His words precede a slight commotion outside, where both men can hear bantering coming closer to where they wait.

The woman who had brought them in earlier appears to be conversing with an absolute mountain of a man, who can be heard insisting, “Flo we’ve discussed this…mornings are for coffee and contemplation…coffee and contemplation!”

Yanking open his office door to deal with his uninvited guests, Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin. With a donut and a coffee in hand, the immigration officer crosses the room as he greets them with a flat tone.

Introduces, “Hello. I’m Jim Hopper.” As he moves to sit behind the desk, setting his pastry and coffee down and scratching at the scruff of his beard. “And you must be Steve and Eddie. Sorry about the wait.”

He lets out a small chuckle, before letting the file he holds fall onto his desk with no care at all, dismisses, “It’s a crazy day today. You know.”

“Oh, of course, of course. We understand.” Steve has lowered his phone, but still cradles it in his hands as he spouts nonsense. “And I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.”

Steve smiles at him, and Hopper smiles back. Both of them are as fake as the plastic chair that Eddie’s sweating into.

“Okay.” Hopper gets right to it then, looking over the file briefly. “So,” He flips it shut with a noisy snap. “I just have one question for you.”

Uh-oh.

Eddie decidedly does not like the sound of that, trying to keep his expression neutral. Unsure if he’s succeeding.

“Are you both committing fraud to avoid his deportation so he can keep his job as a music producer?” Hopper asks sternly, looking pointedly at Eddie.

“Where did— Where did you hear that?” Eddie finds himself asking instead of answering, while Steve makes a sound that sounds scandalized at the suggestion.

Oscar worthy. Truly.

“We had a phone tip this afternoon from a man named…” Hopper starts, looking down at his notes as Steve dramatically sighs, interrupting Hopper with a sympathetic smile.

“Would it be a William Hargrove?” He asks him.

Hopper looks back up at them, “Billy Hargrove.” He finishes.

Steve shakes his head sadly. “Oh, Billy. Poor Billy. I’m so sorry.” Steve frowned, “Billy is nothing but a disgruntled former employee, and I apologize…But we know you’re incredibly busy with a long line of people to tend to. If you’ll just give us our next step, we will be out of your hair and on our way.”

“Mr. Harrington, please.” Hopper gestures for him to take a seat. Steve does so warily.

“Let me explain to you the process that’s about to unfold.” Hopper leans on his desk as the men both nod.

“Step one will be a scheduled interview. I’ll put you each in a room, and I’ll ask you every little question that a real couple would know about each other.” He explains. As if that’s the easy part. “Step two, I dig deeper. I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, I interview your co-workers.” He’s almost glaring at them now.

“If your answers don’t match up at every point,” He points at Steve, “You will be deported indefinitely.” He turns to Eddie, “And you, young man, will have committed a felony punishable by a fine of $250,000. And a stay of five years in a federal prison.” He finishes.

Eddie glances out the window of the office then, catching the sight of a handcuffed woman who protests loudly as she is escorted out of the building. Good God.

Eddie can’t go to jail. He might look scary, but he’s not fit for prison.

“So, Eddie.” Hopper continues, the other man’s eyes snapping towards him as Eddie inclines his head.

“You wanna… you want to talk to me?” Hopper smiles, even winks at him, knowingly.

Eddie’s mind moves a mile a minute - he calculates, recalculates, and then he shakes his head in answer.

“No?” Hopper confirms.

Another head shake. “Well, not no…” Eddie clears his throat, “The truth is…”

Steve’s eyes widen as he looks at Eddie.

This is it. No turning back now. Eddie clears his throat, “Mr. Hopper, the truth is… Steve and I…” He turns to Steve, meeting his eyes, “…are just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love… but we did.”

Steve smiles at him in relief, nodding, before looking back at Hopper through his lashes.

Eddie goes on. “We couldn’t tell anyone we work with, because of the record deal.”

Steve’s expression flickers with surprise as the immigration officer probes, “Record deal?”

Eddie nods, “Yeah.”

“Your…?” Steve asks, staring him down.

Eddie beams at him. “We…We both felt that it would be deeply inappropriate, if I were to be offered a record deal while still holding the title of Steve’s executive assistant…”

Steve huffs, masking it with a cough.

“But with the wedding,” Eddie emphasizes the word for Steve’s benefit. A mild threat. “Coming up - well, I’m not going to be Steve’s assistant anymore. Right sweetheart?” He looks at his boss.

Steve is smiling, but there’s nothing behind his eyes. He’s trapped him.

Good.

“Yes.” Steve grits out.

Hopper clicks his pen. Seemingly satisfied. “So…Have the two of you told your parents about your secret love?”

“Oh…” Steve laughed, “Impossible. My parents and I haven’t spoken in six years. Not since they found out I was bisexual and kicked me out of the house.”

Eddie can’t help but glance at him. The way he says it so casually, the laugh that comes with it, how easy it was to say for him. Like it didn’t hurt…but Eddie knows better.

He finds himself taking Steve’s hand. Squeezing it. He thinks it’s the first time he’s ever intentionally touched Steve. It’s exhilarating. Especially when Steve looks down at the touch all soft, as if in awe.

“No brothers or sisters either.” Steve nods, like it’s nothing, like it’s not a big deal that he has no family to speak of. Hopper clocks it, hums softly. Asks Eddie, “And what about your family?”

“Mom passed. Dad is M.I.A.” He too tries to be casual. He can’t tell if he does it spectacularly or not, because Steve offers no condolence squeeze of his own, though he hasn’t dropped his hand. “I have an uncle though who may as well be my father...Despite accusing me for a very long time of wanting Steve, he doesn’t know that we uh, got together.”

Steve doesn’t like the look that Hopper gets when Eddie reveals that a man who may as well be his father wouldn’t be privy to such big news, and quickly interjects, “We’re actually going to tell him this weekend.”

Eddie whips his head at Steve at that. He can’t be serious.

“It’s his 65th birthday, and we wanted to be there.” Steve explains. “We thought it’d be a nice surprise…and uh, as Eddie mentioned, he did suspect at least Eddie’s feelings for…quite a while.” Steve chuckles.

Eddie wonders if Steve knows that his words ring with a word of truth, nonetheless perturbed at the implication, even as he watches his boss lie with so much ease.

Hopper smirks, “And where is this surprise gonna take place?”

“Eddie’s uncle’s home.” Steve gives Eddie a subtle glance, asking for assistance.

“Where is that located again?” Hopper presses on.

“Um…” Steve scoffs with a laugh. charmingly unprepared as he fixates on Eddie with a little quip of, “Why am I doing all the talking? It’s your uncle. Why don’t you tell him where he lives? Jump in.”

Eddie grins sadistically, doing as he’s asked with glee. “Hawkins.”

“Hawkins.” Steve confirms, looking back at Hopper.

“Indiana.” Eddie finishes with a smile.

“Indiana.” Steve repeats, and abruptly turns to him in surprise. Eddie is already looking back at him, giving his boss the sweetest smile he can muster.

“Hawkins, Indiana. Real small-town America.” Eddie’s smile widens, sweetens.

“You’re gonna go to Indiana this weekend?” Hopper repeats, his doubts obvious.

Steve nods, voice pained. “Yes.”

“Yeah.” Eddie adds.

“We are going to Indiana. That’s where my little… that’s where my Eddie is from.” Steve is clearly thrown, and Eddie almost laughs in delight.

Hopper sighs, “Okay. Fine. I see how this is gonna go. I will see you both…in two weeks.” He rips a piece of notepad to scribble on it, “At 11am, for your scheduled interview, and your answers better match up.”

Hopper stands then, prompting both of them to do the same. They realize they are still holding hands, and drop them quickly.

Steve’s already on his phone saying hello to someone as Eddie takes the piece of paper from Hopper with their scribbled appointment.

“Thank you.” He says, pocketing it as the officer teases him, “I’m looking forward to this one.”

“We’re looking forward to this one.” Eddie replies as Steve greets the caller with an excited tone, waving a dismissive goodbye to Hopper and fleeing the room.

“It’s gonna be fun! I’ll be checking up on you.” Hopper calls after them.

By the time they’ve spilled out onto the street, and escaped the scrutiny of the feds, Steve is off the phone call, barking orders.

“Okay, so, what’s gonna happen is we will go over there. We will pretend that we have been dating, tell your uncle that we’re engaged.” Steve continues to look at his screen, as if it’s all so simple. Making plans. “Use the miles for the tickets. First class, but make sure you use the miles. If we don’t get the miles, we’re not doing it. Oh! And confirm the vegan meal, okay? Because last time they gave it to an actual vegan, and they forced me to eat this gross salad thing, which was…”

Trailing off, Steve looks up from his phone, blinking when he sees Eddie not taking him as seriously as he should be. “Hey, why aren’t you taking notes?”

“I’m sorry, were you not in that room?” Eddie points his thumb at the building.

“What? What?” Steve asks, looking genuinely confused as to what he’s worried about.

Eddie blinks. Waits. It clicks a moment later.

“Oh! The thing you said about a record deal?” Steve nods with a smirk, “Genius! He completely fell for it!”

“I was serious.” Eddie clenches his jaw, “I’m looking at a $250,000 fine and five years in jail. That changes things.”

Steve makes a face, “A record deal? No way.”

“Then I quit, and you’re screwed. Goodbye Stevie, it really has been a little slice of heaven.” Eddie starts to walk away.

“Eddie!” Steve calls back, chasing after him and oh boy does Eddie like that feeling. “Eddie! Eddie! Fine! Fine.” The other man halts, and turns back to face Steve.

“I’ll give you a record deal. Fine.” Steve nods, agreeing to his terms even if it kills him. “If you go through with this weekend, the interview, and the wedding, I will give you a record deal. Happy?”

“Not in two years. Right away.” Eddie counters back, Steve rolls his eyes with a sharp breath.

“Fine.” He huffs.

“And you’ll give me complete creative control.” He adds.

Steve pauses, looking baffled and conflicted, “Eddie…”

“Complete creative control, or I walk.” Eddie continues, “Also, we’ll tell my uncle about our engagement when I want and how I want. If I have to add lying to the man who saved my life in addition to this fucking shit show, then I want to do it on my own terms.” He feels really fucking good right now. Powerful even. So he demands, “Now, ask me nicely.”

Steve stares at him, “Ask you nicely what?”

Eddie smirks, “Ask me nicely to marry you, Steve.”

“What?” He wrinkles his nose and Eddie shows his teeth. “You heard me. On your knees.”

“Here?” Steve’s voice breaks and Eddie snickers, crossing his arms. Waits.

“Fine.” His boss finally grits out, kneeling down and holding out his hand expectantly for Eddie’s. Eddie is pleased, giving it over with a little wiggle of his fingers.

He’s kneeling like a beggar and not someone proposing, with both of his legs tucked under him, scowling so pretty that Eddie can’t stand it as Steve snarks, “Does this work for you?”

“Oh, yeah. I like this.” Eddie nods in reply, smug, thinking to himself that Steve never needs to know exactly how much.

Steve is glaring daggers as he asks him flatly, “Will you marry me?”

Eddie offers a small shake of his head in answer. “No.” He’s firm. “Say it nicely. Say it like you mean it.”

Steve breathes deeply, trying again, slowly drawing out his name as he asks, “Eddie,”

“Yes, Steve?” Eddie smiles down at him.

“Eddie, my darling Eddie.” Eddie has to ignore the way his voice lowers, pleading and yet commanding in a way that would have their roles reversed - Eddie on his knees - in a second. His answering tone he just manages to keep indifferent. “I’m listening.”

“Would you, please, pretty please, with cherries on top, marry me?” Steve pouts, and his lips are so lush that Eddie might actually die.

Instead of doing that, or something equally embarrassing, Eddie purses his own lips, looking up, pretending that he’s thinking it over when really he’s trying to expel the mental image of Steve Harrington, evil incarnate, down on his knees for him.

He caves then. “Okay. I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I’ll do it. Check your email for the travel arrangements.”

Eddie turns to walk away, and then he pauses, turning back around.

“You know, that reminds me.” He grins wickedly. “You’ve never seen me outside of my work attire before.”

Steve looks wary, slowly rising from the ground and dusting himself off. “No, I have not.”

Eddie cackles. “Oh, Stevie, this is going to be so much fun. I’ll see you at the airport - I’ll be the one in black.”

Eddie is wearing black, to be fair.

Painted on his nails without fear for the first time in six years.

While previously he had always taken it off with remover before heading into the office on a Monday morning - or heading to do Steve’s errands on the weekend…Now he didn’t bother to conceal it.

Why would he? When he and Steve were so “happily engaged.”

So, yes. His nails are black. His jeans are black, ripped, a metal chain hanging from them with his old Hellfire Club shirt tucked in. Atop it he wears his black leather jacket, and his denim vest covered in hand-sewed patches. All of his rings adorn his fingers as he bounces on his white-Reebok clad feet.

Eyes peeled for Steve’s arrival, he’s positively giddy when the car he’d ordered approaches the curb.

Waving it down, he greeted Steve’s chauffeur through the passenger window before going and opening Steve’s door himself.

Once he does so, he makes a big show of kissing Steve’s hand as he pulls him from the town car, his boss’s jaw going slack at the sight of him as he exits it and rises to his full height, taking in Eddie’s appearance.

For a second.

And then he composes himself, snatching his hand so he can rip the sunglasses off of his face and tuck them frantically into the collar of his dress shirt.

“You can’t be serious.” He says.

Eddie stands his ground, taking a step back with a smile and extending the handle to the small suitcase he had with him on the curb with a click. “As the plague, baby.”

Steve looks like he’s questioning his life choices - until Eddie turns to head to the terminal. “You’ll want to grab your things and hurry along, dear. We still have to check in.”

Surprised, Steve grabs his bags - way too many for a weekend trip but not if you weren’t expecting to have to carry them yourself - and scrambles after Eddie.

He’s clearly pissed when he catches up, his hands full as he reminds Eddie pointedly. “I am still your boss.”

And, okay, yeah. So Eddie may have been pushing his luck lately. He was dependent on Steve to some degree in this arrangement as well, and it would definitely be worth it for the two of them to sit and hash out how their being fiancés would change their dynamic.

Soon. For now, Eddie grabs the bags. “I am nothing if not a good employee to my future husband.” He defends.

Steve forges on, unamused. They get through the check-in, and then they have some time to kill as Eddie settles his nerves with a rum and coke, courtesy of the private bar in the first class lounge.

Before he can even move to pay for it, Steve slides his Black card over. Feeling generous it seems.

Eddie looks at him doubtfully, arms crossed as he leans over the bar. Steve isn’t smiling, just shrugs and explains only for him to hear. “My man wouldn’t have to pay for things.”

Surprised, Eddie takes his drink, rings clinking against the glass, unsure of what to say before Steve is leaving his orbit, wrapped up in his phone once again.

Eddie nurses the liquor until it’s time for them to board, finding their plush first class seats and settling into them, taking in all the amenities with barely contained awe.

Steve watches Eddie shed his denim vest and his leather jacket, getting comfortable and revealing the tattoos along his forearms, and he feels his mouth go dry. He swallows as he stares at his phone screen, unseeing.

Once he has to stow it, their phones set to airplane mode, Eddie commands Steve’s attention, pulling out a booklet.

“So, these are the questions that INS is gonna ask us.” Eddie says in explanation, “The good news is, I know everything about you, but the bad news is that you have two weeks to learn all this about me. So, you should…probably study.”

Steve takes the booklet, skimming over it on his own, flipping through its pages, “You know the answers to all of these questions about me?” He presses.

“Scary, isn’t it?” Eddie grins.

“A little bit.” Steve replies, looking through them for a stumbling block before he quizzes his fake fiance. “What am I allergic to?”

“Latex.” Eddie declares, no doubt at all in his voice, “And displays of emotion in the workplace.”

“Haha. That’s so funny.” Steve rolls his eyes. A little miffed that he got it right.

“Uhm… Here’s a good one.” Steve folds the booklet, “Do I have any scars?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure you have a tattoo.” Eddie adds.

“Oh, you’re pretty sure?” Steve shoots back with a huff of laughter.

“I’m pretty sure. Two years ago, your dermatologist called and asked about a Q-switched laser. I, of course, googled what that is and found out that they do, in fact, remove tattoos. But you canceled your appointment.” He says smugly. Steve is baffled, and he presses on. “So what is it? A tramp stamp?”

Steve doesn’t deny it, redirecting sharply. “You know, it’s exciting for me to experience you like this.”

“Thank you.” Eddie replies. Focused. His eyes are locked on Steve’s and holy fuck, Steve doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how long his lashes are. “You’re going to have to tell me where it is though.”

Steve turns his head to avoid eye contact, “No. I’m not.”

“They’re gonna ask.” Eddie answers. “Come on. I’ll tell you all about mine - the ones you can see, the ones you can’t-” Eddie teases.

“We’re done with this question. We’re done with this conversation. Onto another question. Let me see, let me see.” Steve mumbles to block him out, making him sigh in defeat and sink down into his expensive seat.

“Oh, here’s one. Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine?” Steve inquires, turning his nose up. “That’s easy, mine.” He answers without even looking back at him.

Eddie is sufficiently distracted at that, tone clipped as he antagonizes him, “And why wouldn’t we stay at mine?”

“Because I live in a penthouse on Central Park West.” Steve looks at him with pursed lips before turning back to the booklet again, “And you probably live in some squalid little studio apartment with a record player to impress your dates.”

Eddie’s tone is biting, a mocking smile on his lips. “You don’t have to sound so jealous about it, sweetheart.”

Steve stares at him unblinkingly. Asks, “What color is my toothbrush?”

“Blue.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

Steve scowls - flipping through the book, pausing as he reads a question that makes him flush. He drops the book between them like it burned him. “Okay, that’s enough of that.” Steve says.

It makes Eddie curious so he grabs the booklet and starts looking for the offending question. Prodding and teasing him. “Oooooh what was it? Which question got you flustered?”

“Eddie.” Steve protests, his tone lacking his usual dictativeness.

“Was it sexual?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Is the US government just itching to know how we perform the horizontal tango?”

Steve glares. “If you’re not going to take this seriously-“

“I just assumed it would be like anything else with us.” Eddie cuts in. Steve waits for him to elaborate, and he lets out a huge breath, “We do it however the hell you tell me to.”

Steve gawks at him, miffed. “That’s…you’re being unfair.” He settles on.

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Steve.” He soothes. And then thinks, fuck it. Lays his cards on the table.

“So, this is just me thinking off the top of my head - because I definitely haven’t spent a lot of time on this. Haven’t given any prior thought to - to how you might be. How we might be together.”

Eddie clears his throat as Steve gapes at him. Words spilling out. “No sir. Never ran your errands or emptied out your inbox and wondered, if after you’ve bossed me around all day, if you wouldn’t want to hole up in your office after everyone’s gone home and let me do the bossing around...Giving me the reigns to do whatever I want to you, just so you don’t have to be the man in charge. So you wouldn’t have to think and plan for a little while. Nooooo…I definitely didn’t spend way too long entertaining that thought, only to realize that it just doesn’t sit right. Because as much as I might like to imagine it - you - good and fucked, finally fucking satisfied, you’re way too mouthy and way too content bossing everyone around to give up all of your control when you go home, when you get taken to bed. So, it would have to be something more like what I said. Where you tell me what it is you want. What it is you need. And I, your ever humble servant, would be all too eager to comply.”

Steve’s voice is measured as he replies, “You haven’t thought about it, huh?”

Eddie steals Steve’s move as he rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. We just…we spent a lot of time together.” He lies. Clears his throat. “So, do I have it right?”

Steve looks out the window - because of fucking course he has the window seat. He replies mockingly, “Yes, Eddie, once again, you have another one right.” And then, because he’s trying to kill him, Steve adds. “I keep control. I keep control and I tell my partners what it is I need. Even if what I need is to get railed like a cheap slut at the end of a long day.”

Jesus H. Christ.

It’s impossible to be smug. “I live to please.” Eddie responds, willing away the stirring in his pants at the thought.

Steve just sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “So…that’s, uh, one question answered about you, I guess.”

Before Eddie can put his foot in his mouth - the flight attendant appears at their side, clearing her throat as she smiles and offers them snacks.

The two men let her interruption end the conversation, Eddie popping his headphones in for the rest of the flight. Letting Metallica pour over his more loud thoughts until he gets his footing.

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