Eddie explains the whole battle vest process and history to Steve one night when they’re hanging out, Robin passed out somewhere in the house because it’s nearly three in the morning and they should ALL be asleep, but it’s always worth the exhaustion the next day to get to talk with Eddie alone.
Steve hangs onto every word, asking questions about the patches he’s seen on Eddie’s and if he wants to add more and which ones would he add if he could find them and Eddie answers them all because Steve is showing interest in his interests so how could he not?
He doesn’t think about it the next day or any of the days after
Until Christmas morning, the first Christmas after Vecna, the first one that they all agreed they should spend together even if they don’t give gifts.
But Steve gives everyone a package, all the same size, all the same wrapping paper, just labeled with first names to know who gets what. Even Eddie gets one.
He tells them all to open them at the same time.
And they all just stare at what they’re holding in their laps.
Eddie tells himself not to cry as he looks at his own gift and then everyone else’s.
They’re battle vests. Everyone’s is personalized for what they like, patches and pins special to the things they care about regardless of how “metal” it is.
It’s not until five minutes later they all realize that they all have one button on the front that’s the same. Its just a pin in the shape of a party hat. It’s funny. Confusing, but funny.
And then Steve explains that he thought it was a good way to show that they’re all part of this group, all part of the party, whether they’ve been around since day one or just joined this year.
Of course everyone loves it, loves that Steve put this effort into their gifts.
Nobody notices that Eddie’s vest has an even more special button, clearly handmade.
It says ‘property of s.h.’ And Eddie keeps it to wear forever, including on his tux when they can finally get married
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A Date in Exchange
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)
Oh goddamnit, why.
The villain can see the familiar car turning down the road towards them. They tip their head down in the vain hope that they’ll go unnoticed, and somehow it works—the car streaks past them, and they thank god that they don’t have to deal with that.
Thanking god, it turns out, means jack shit when the person they’re avoiding is the hero. The car appears next to them again not even five seconds later, having somehow turned around to trail after them.
“Get in,” the hero demands through the open window. The villain turns to give them a hearty scowl.
“I did that once and look how that turned out.” They pick up the pace—not that it gets them any further away. “No.”
“That’s why I wanted to talk to you.” The car mounts the pavement, alarmingly close to the villain and cutting off their path. They leap back slightly at the blatant crime, startled. “Just get in.”
The villain leans down to swing the door open with an irritated huff. “If you try to arrest me for showing you up in front of your parents I’ll be pissed.”
-
“I thought you were telling them we’re breaking up,” the villain points out indignantly, and the hero sighs tiredly.
“I tried, but you, of all people, made a good impression on them,” The hero’s gaze is locked out of the window as they drive, but it feels like they’d avoid the villain’s eye even if they weren’t on the road, “despite the fact I had to stop you from robbing them blind.”
“You knew who you were inviting in.”
“I told my mother that you’d embarrassed me and that I was leaving you,” the hero continues, pointedly ignoring their comment, “and she almost cried. You almost had my poor mother in tears because she liked you so much that the idea of us breaking up hurt her.”
“Your life isn’t meant to revolve around what your parents want,” the villain says tightly.
“It doesn’t. My so-called dating life that exists purely to sate them does, though.” The hero pulls over at the side of the road. “So we’re still doing this. Next time we see each other I’ll be decking you in the face or holding your hand or something gross. I really hope it’s the former.”
-
Much to the hero’s visible dismay, it is not the former.
“You’ve captured their hearts a little too much,” they tell the villain from their doorway. “It seems I’ve made a bit of a huge mistake doing this with you.”
“That’s what you get for trying to get me to do anything for you. Am I coming in or what?”
They step back to let the villain inside, catching a glimpse of the paper bundle in their hands. “What’s that?”
“Oh, these?” The villain holds up their gift—a bouquet of red, orange, and yellow flowers, their shades an exact match to those on the hero’s uniform. “Just a declaration of admiration to my beloved.”
“Oh, how thoughtful,” the hero snaps sarcastically. “Thank you.”
With a flick their bin opens, and the flowers are dumped head first inside. “My parents are constantly asking what you’re up to and why they don’t get to see any pictures of us.” The hero starts the trek to the living room, where they’ve already set up a realistic looking chess board, mid-game.
They pause when they find themself walking alone. They glance back to where the villain is still standing in the foyer, staring at the bin. “Did you hear anything I just said?”
“Huh?” is the answer they get, and they tut as the villain finally starts after them.
“You’ll need to come here once a week, and we’ll get some pictures to convince my parents that this is actually happening.”
The villain frowns. “What if I just left you in the shit? Didn’t come? Told your parents who you’re supposedly dating? Told them it was all fake?”
“Because I’m about to let you get away with a hell of a lot of crime if you don’t.”
The hero settles on the sofa, beckoning for the villain to sit with them. “Fine,” the villain spits a little harshly, “‘cause I’m not doing this for free.”
Taglist: @wacko-weirdo
(Part 4)
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