#also robin totally pulled her shirt from eddie's clothesline that morning

[scoops-stevie-archive]

take this as a little practice run for finding the right voices for this group. takes place in '88-'89, roughly, with an outsider pov.

read on ao3

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Corroded Coffin plays a gig at some dive bar outside Chicago and Steve, Robin and Nancy are there sitting at the bar. The show starts and the whole time Steve watches Eddie with stars in his eyes, like his boyfriend just hung the goddamn moon for him. Nancy and Robin are used to it so they're not paying attention but the bartender, Jack, looks at him with pity, thinking he's another fan who thinks he has a real shot with someone in the band. After the second set and with Steve still laser focused on the stage, he's got to be the one to unfortunately shatter the little bubble he's living in. Jack sets a glass of whiskey down in front of him, startling him a bit.

"Look, kid," he says. "I've worked here a while, seen bands come and go in this place and there's always a couple of guys who have the same exact look as you do."

The boy tilts his head, confused.

"All starry eyed and hopeful, thinking that they're gonna be the one that makes it back to the bus."

The kid has half the sense to at least look a little embarrassed, but he shakes his head. "Nah, man. It's not like that, believe me."

Jack rolls his eyes. "I've been watching you for a while, kid, you're not exactly slick. There's been enough people come crawling back here with their tails between their legs because their fantasies were busted by guys like that."

He points to the stage where Eddie is doing his bit with Jeff, both singing into one mic and Eddie presses a sloppy kiss to his cheek before moving back to his spot. Steve holds back his grin as the audience gets louder. Robin and Nancy go absolutely wild in front of him, having moved closer when the band stepped onstage.

Jack sighs and picks up the rag he was using to wipe down the counter. "I'm just trying to look out for you." He points to the glass. "That's on the house, by the way."

Steve is still a little confused by the interaction, watching Jack for a second before turning his attention back to his boyfriend. Eddie catches his eye and puckers his lips in a kiss, and Steve doesn't hold back his grin, putting two fingers in his mouth and whistling. Eddie laughs.

By the end of the show, Eddie is covered in sweat and amped up with adrenaline, grinning from ear to ear as they thank the crowd and the bar for having them. They help the roadies pack up their instruments and gear into the trailer hitched onto the back of Eddie's van before cleaning themselves up to join the crowd. Jeff and Gareth are the first ones out of the green room and immediately make a beeline for the bar, only stopping for a few autographs and to chat with fans. The band knew the three of them would be there and they looked forward to having their own little corner to themselves for the rest of the night.

Jack gives Steve a raised eyebrow when they walk up and Robin gushes about how good they were. The don't say I didn't warn you goes unsaid. Steve shakes his head and launches into the conversation, his back turned toward the stage.

They hear Eddie before they actually see him.

Well, they don't hear Eddie so much as they hear the crowd when he comes out of the hallway leading to the green room. He's changed from his stage outfit into a faded Poison tee and a pair of what Steve knows are his comfy jeans. Ripped at the knees and thighs and almost threadbare. Steve has told him a thousand times to thow them out but the boy's as stubborn as a mule.

Girls and guys alike flock around him like he's the Messiah to get even a fraction of his time and Eddie eats it up eagerly, the attention whore. He signs autograph after autograph and turns offers of going back to random hotels as gently as he can before he can finally break free.

"Y'know, sometimes I think he's the only reason we have fans in the first place," Gareth muses, leaning his elbows on the bar. "Dude's a natural performer."

Eddie finally makes it over to them and, to absolutely no one's surprise (but definitely Jack's), he pulls Steve in for a kiss with one hand on his waist and the other cupping the back of his neck. The others groan and Steve giggles a delighted "baby" into Eddie's mouth when he starts to get a little handsy.

Eddie pulls away with one last peck. "Sorry, sweetheart, you know how I get when I see you in my clothes."

Steve raises an eyebrow. "Really? Robin's wearing your shirt, too, and I don't see you making out with her," he teases.

Robin gags and Eddie gives her a mock apologetic look over Steve's shoulder. "Sorry, Buckley, but I think it's best if we see other people. You know how it goes, it's not you, it's me, yada yada."

"I completely agree, Munson," Robin nods seriously.

Steve taps his palm on Eddie's chest. "Before I forget, I was given instructions to tell you that when we get back to Hawkins tomorrow, you have to call Henderson immediately. He's missed his dad, so your place will probably be filled with kids the whole day."

"And what if we wanted to stay in Chicago an extra day?" Gareth asks, even though he knows they won't. "See the sights and all that bullshit."

Nancy scoffs. "Are you kidding? Your mom clocked us as soon as we walked in and said that she's proud of you, but she wants to go home."

Steve laughs as Gareth puts a hand over his heart. "Wounded by my own mother! The betrayal!"

Eddie shakes his head. "And does Henderson remember we've been on the road for three weeks? I get back to Hawkins, I'm not leaving my trailer for a week. He can have some patience."

"Patience? These kids?" Robin laughs. "They wouldn't know patience if it bit them in the ass."

From the conversation that Jack is trying oh so hard not to eavesdrop on, he picks up that they're all friends and have known each other for a considerable amount of time. High school, maybe? And going by the way the band's guitarist swooped in and planted one on the kid, they've been together for a while also. So, not a wannabe groupie. Just a lovesick boyfriend. Jack can understand that. He can also see, now, the matching guitar pick necklaces they're wearing.

Eventually, the group decides to call it a night.

"By the way," the kid, Steve, says to him, slapping cash on the counter. His arm is around Eddie's waist and Eddie's is around his shoulder. He throws him a wink before turning to leave. "It's a van, not a bus."