#coffin things

[pyromaniac9]

Of course my vampire pyromaniac ass wants this 🧛🦇🔥🖤❤️

[morganbritton132]

Gareth, introducing the band: -and this is Eddie. His special interest is a guy we went to high school with.

Jeff: A guy who came out as bisexual and dates people that looks just like him

Gareth: But Eddie won’t man up and ask him out because he’s too chickenshit

Eddie:

Eddie: And this is Jeff and Gareth, former members of Corroded Coffin

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie goes to a very interactive and scary haunted house with CC. They get separated, one thing leads to another, and Eddie finds himself crouched behind a dusty curtain, trying to evade a masked killer with a spiked bat.

But then his smart watch lights up, and he realizes that he needs to turn it off.

Except his shaking fingers accidentally press the "find your phone" function. One moment, Eddie is suppressing his labored breathing. Now, he's scrambling to turn off his phone as it keeps screeching "I'M HEEEREEEE!" in an obnoxious voice.

The curtain opens and the killer stares at him from above. Even with the mask on, he seems disappointed.

Eddie just stares at him.

The killer stares back.

Then, as an act of mercy, he takes Eddie's phone and turns off the noise. He returns the phone and uses his bat to give the gentlest bonk to Eddie's head.

Eddie still stares and isn't moving.

The killer sighs, removes his mask - and wow. Maybe fear scrambled Eddie's brain, but the guy's so cute!

"Oh wow," he whispers. "If I knew you were so pretty, I would have let you catch me sooner."

He half expects the guy to be disgusted, but he just snorts. "That can still be arranged. But now," he lowers his mask back, "you have five seconds to start running. And if I catch you, you don't get to ask for my number."

Eddie runs like hell. He makes it past the exit gate, he rolls on the floor, wheezing and sweating. But he still finds the words. "Your...oh fuck, my ribs...your name...big boy? And number?"

The guy didn't even break a sweat. He walks up to Eddie, takes his phone and types in a number, plus a name - Steve.

He cocks his head to the side. "My shift ends in three hours. Try not to disappoint me again, hm?"

And then he leaves.

Eddie's friends stare at him, having witnessed the whole scene. But Eddie doesn't explain anything, he just clutches the phone close to his chest and says: "I'm gonna marry that guy."

And surprisingly, he ends up being right.

[clioerato]

One of Steve and Eddie’s kids decides to practice video editing… which, naturally, spirals into complete chaos.

The result? The Munsons (yes, the Munsons—“I was never the Harrington my parents wanted,” Steve had declared 20 years ago before taking Eddie’s last name. Eddie cried, back then. There was something quietly tragic about someone choosing to take the last name of a man once suspected of murder and satanic rituals… instead of keeping the one that opened every door. Steve did it with pride. Which, honestly, says more about Steve’s parents than anything else ever could.) now run the most unhinged YouTube channel on the platform.

It’s a bizarre but delightful mix of:

“Dad, how do I?”-style tutorials from Steve, where he teaches you how to change your car’s oil or hang a shelf without crying,

Guitar lessons from Eddie, complete with wild hair and chaotic energy,

And a full-blown video diary of the Munson household—including all six of their kids.

(Did they adopt them? Have them biologically? Was there a surrogate? Did they just… find them? No one knows. There are six. That’s all we know.)

Weirdly? It goes insanely viral.

Like, “overnight cult following” viral.

Hundreds of people start commenting, sharing how the Munsons remind them that family doesn’t have to mean cold silences and unmet expectations. Steve sobs over every single comment that ends with “...you make me believe I can have a family someday.”

And then—because chaos is the family brand—Eddie, bored on a Wednesday, uploads some old Corroded Coffin tapes to the same channel…

And the entire internet combusts.

Suddenly, 45-something Eddie Munson has major label execs showing up at his door like,

“Hey, remember rock? Yeah, you’re the future of it.”

[steddieshegoes]

Oh just FUCK RIGHT OFF

Where are the fics where Eddie Munson sees Indie underground pop Steve for the first time since high school and it’s THIS PICTURE and Eddie just???

Steve looks so soft??? What the fuck??

Cue feral rabid rat man Eddie devouring every scrap of Steve he can find like it’ll help solve the mystery of the real thing

[sinningminning]

Worlds best worst boyfriend

[inthedarknessofnight]

Steve Harrington front row at a Corroded Coffin concert, holding up a sign asking Eddie to be his first kiss. Of course, Eddie’s never been particularly strong-willed when it comes to pretty guys, so he doesn’t hesitate to jump off the stage as soon as he clocks the sign. But the entire time they’re making out (and trust me, they are making out), he can’t help but think how good this guy is for a beginner. And because Eddie is immediately down bad, he calls him backstage after the show and tells him as much, but the guy just giggles and says “Actually, that wasn’t my first kiss. I just wanted to kiss you.”

[steddiebrainrotramble]

Saw this idea floating around and wanted to write a little bit about it

Corroded coffin has gotten big enough for larger venues now. Steve was so proud of them. He and Eddie had agreed on day one he’d stay with them. He helped manage the band behind the scenes. Steve loved it. He loved the guys and getting to spend their days off exploring different parts of the cities they toured.

It was hard sometimes though, at places like this especially. Sometimes he got migraines and had to come later. Or wanted to step out for a smoke. Large venues like this had large back of the house and green rooms but some times he just needed to get out.

That wasn’t the problem. Getting back in was. Even with his back stage access pass, a lot of the time the venue security refused to believe that the man before them was the lead singers husband.

How could he be? The man in the yellow polo and jeans with perfectly coifed hair at a metal concert didn’t look like he belonged in the venue let alone with the band. And that was his problem right at this moment.

Steve looked up at the large looking men. Two of them, looking unimpressed with him. “Look, I don’t know where you stole that pass from but everyone knows Munsons husband’s name. Get out of here before we throw you out.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. He was trying not to get frustrated. He appreciated them, honestly. He wanted to keep Eddie safe. But fuck he did not want to do this right now. “I appreciate you doing your job. But I’ve got my badge. Call back to Ed’s security. Describe me to them. Hell tell them the shirt I’m wearing, Cj helped pick it out, says it’s a good yellow. Mat says it’s too horrendous but it somehow suits me. Couldn’t tell if that’s a compliment honestly.” Steve shrugged. The guards look unamused.

Finally the one on the left sighs. “Fine I’ll walkie back. If they say they have no clue who you are we’re kicking you completely out and trespassing you. Sure you want to gamble that?” The guy smirked and Steve shrugged. ���Go for it.”

Guy walkied for the bands security. “Got a preppy looking guy here. Think he stole a backstage pass.” Steve can hear Cj’s voice crackle over the walkie. “He wearing an amazingly blinding yellow polo?” “Yes…” “That’s Munson’s hubby, let him through.”

Steve just stared at them as he pushed pass, careful to remind himself he had another story to tell Robin next time he called.

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

I don't know how to explain how much these two mean to me. They are the non-biological-not-raised-together siblings of all time. They are so ride or die. One time a man threatened Riz and Fig got that guy to jump out a window. One time Fig pretended to be a doctor and Riz helped her successfully do magic surgery without ever coming out of hiding. They both decided together to never ever tell Gorgug that Fig did the sealing spell without ever saying a word to each other about it. Fig joins Riz and Sklonda on their murder investigation road trip. Riz ate dinner all the time with Fig and her elf dad. They comfortably hang out in hell with a sentient blood blob and a motorcycle that's secretly a dog. He's her legal counsel. She encourages him to hiss at people more. They trust each other with their lives. They are celestial and infernal, connected to the outer planes by their relationships to their fathers and then making that connection their own. Their parents are dating but honestly that's the least relevant detail in all of this. Do you see the vision

[allthingssteddie]

Steve Harrington's room was a shrine to Corroded Coffin, with posters plastered on every inch of his wall. His friends had grown accustomed to his obsession, but even they had limits. "Dingus, we get it. You love Corroded Coffin. Can we please talk about something else?" Robin would say, exasperated.

But Steve couldn't help himself. He had discovered the band through Dustin, who had introduced him to their music as a way to rebel against his parents. At first, Steve had played their songs loudly, just to annoy his mom and dad. But as he delved deeper into their music, he became genuinely obsessed.

Eddie Munson's raw voice spoke to Steve on a deep level. He loved how the lead singer's lyrics seemed to capture how he felt. Steve felt seen and heard through Eddie's music, and he couldn't get enough of it.

As he lay in bed, surrounded by his Corroded Coffin posters, Steve would often find himself dreaming of Eddie. He'd imagine what it would be like to meet the lead singer, to talk to him about music and life and everything in between. And, if he was being completely honest with himself, Steve had even vowed to one day marry Eddie Munson. It was a crazy, impossible dream, but Steve couldn't help the way he felt.

On his 19th birthday Robin surprised Steve with tickets to Corroded Coffin's concert, and Steve was ecstatic. But what he didn't know was that Robin had also arranged for a backstage meet and greet with the whole band.

As they made their way backstage, Steve's nerves started to get the better of him. Eddie was smiling and chatting with fans. Steve was so nervous he was shaking. Robin just smiled and grabbed Steve's hand, leading him to the table where the band was sitting. Eddie looked up and smiled at Steve.

The only thing Steve could manage to say was, "Marry me?" The rest of the band members giggled at the sudden proposal.

Eddie's smile grew wider, and he looked at Steve with a serious expression. "Okay," he said, "I'll marry you."

“Wait what?”

[shushmal]

Steve bites back a sigh when he sees a hand waving just out of the corner of his eye, trying to grab his attention from where Steve's gazing pitifully at his drink. The club is loud, music blasting, and maybe it's a little pathetic for Steve to be at his place of work on his day off, but Robin's behind the bar and he gets free drinks. Unfortunately, the kind of guys who frequent his workplace are usually the opposite of Steve's type.

So, he's prepared, for when he looks up, to gently let down whatever club boy who's decided to shoot their shot with him tonight. They all start to look the same to him: bleached hair, glitter, crop tops and low riding pants. Men who are too much like Steve to be what Steve's looking for.

When he looks up, however, his eyes go a little wide and his lips part from around the straw against his tongue.

"Hi!" yells the guy, long hair, long legs, long fingers. He's wearing way too much leather and denim for this place, and he must be boiling under that jacket. "W-would you like to dance?"

Steve takes a longer moment to take him in: his shoulders hunched up around his ears, fingers twisting his hair nervously, eyes big and brown and beautiful.

Straightening from where he's been hiding against the wall, Steve steps up into the guy's space, watches his eyes go bigger and his face go pink. He's perfect.

"I'm Steve," he says, leaning in so he can be heard over the music. "And you don't look like the kind of guy who dances."

"Oh, I'm not," the guy says, eyes flicking around Steve's face, dropping to Steve's chest, to his thighs and back up again. "Um, sorry. I'm Eddie."

Steve grins. "Nice to meet you, Eddie."

Eddie's mouth quirks up, an giddy, boyish smile. "P-pleasure's mine," he says. "And I may be terrible at it, but I'd love to dance with you. If you'd like."

"I would like," Steve tells him. He holds out his hand, feels his heart flutter when Eddie takes it. "I'd like that very much."

[sp0o0kylights]

So this happened in my city (photo credit not mine, apologizes, pulled it from social media) and I hereby propose:

The Stupidiest Bitch Pageant is a marketing stunt by world Famous band Corroded Coffin, in which they're trying to find someone to star in the upcoming music video/social media videos of their topping the charts popular new song (and album.)

Enter: Steve Harrington, who has no idea who Corroded Coffin is and enters on a lark, for the fun of it.

He wins, on grounds that he actually has no idea what's happening, but keeps going with it anyway-- up to and including, dorky over the top flirtinf with leading man Eddie Munson.

Eddie was gone the second Steve opened his mouth and said; "Wait, this is an audition for a band?" but once the fake flirting portion started, he might as well have signed his life's savings over to Steve when he strutted out in and said he'd be happily imprisoned in Eddies dungeon.

The rest of the band is in hysterics, not only because Steve's ridiculous, but because Eddie is struggling not to pant like a dog after him.

[ryan-waddell11]

help I’m still at the restaurant

[dreamsteddie]

Wowza. Part one blew up way more than I thought it would so here! Part two! I do have more thoughts about this so there might be a couple more parts to come. We'll see ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

------

Eddie takes half a second to consider just not answering. Maybe throwing his phone away and never going back to the restaurant they went to last night so he never has to confront whatever it is that's about to happen. Maybe even fleeing the country and living alone on a sheep farm with no friends and go relationships ever again so something like this never happens again.

But then he thinks of Steve. Kind, funny Steve with the bright eyes and soft skin who looked at Eddie like he could fall in love with him and he knows that whatever comes next, Steve deserves for Eddie to see it through with him.

New Message: Steve H.

Hey

Just that one word sends Eddie's heart into his throat. He can see that Steve is still typing, those little ellipses of doom popping on and off the screen. Realistically, Steve probably doesn't know what happened, right? Eddie's pretty sure Steve wasn't in on it and it's been less than an hour since Eddie himself found out, so probably not.

Steve H: Gareth called me

Fuck.

Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.

If Eddie's heart was in his throat at the first text, the second one has it dropping through his body and out of his goddamned ass. It's not that he doesn't want Steve to know. He was always planning to tell him, he was just hoping he could be the one to do it. Gareth being a little shit and calling Steve first was not part of the plan.

Steve H: He told be about the prank. I'm sorry if I wasn't what you expected and you were just being nice. We can pretend it never happened. No hard feelings.

Eddie slams his head into his pillow. This is such a cluster fuck he can hardly bring himself to look at the text but he needs to come up with some kind of response, like, yesterday if he wants any chance of keeping the man of his dreams from running for the hills because apparently, Eddie's friends are trying to destroy his life. He takes a deep breath and starts typing.

Eddie: Hey, I'm so sorry about that. I just found out about what they did an hour ago at practice. I didn't think they would just call you out of the blue like that, I was just about to text you.

Not completely true, but Eddie was going to text him about it, just after screaming into his pillow and making a couple Vudu dolls first.

Eddie: For what it's worth I really do like you and I would love to still take you out on that second date, but I understand if my friends scared you off and you want nothing to do with me. I know it's fucked up.

It takes a minute for Steve to respond, the typing bubbles ebbing and flowing as Steve types and retypes whatever it is he wants to say. Eddie is about ready to call it a wash and start googling sheep farms for sale in Ireland when a new text comes in, dispelling all thoughts of learning to sheer wool.

Steve H: Are you sure?

And fuck if that doesn't hurt his heart. Eddie has spent all of two and a half hours with Steve, he's a virtual stranger, but Eddie can swear he can feel all of Steve's secondhand insecurity through that one lonely sentence. Before he even registers what he's asking, he send a quick reply.

Eddie: Can I Facetime you?

Before Eddie can try to rethink his decision, his screen lights up with a notification. Steve is calling him.

Eddie scrambles to answer, fumbling his phone a little in his haste and almost missing the call completely. He manages to get it on the last ring, breathing heavily in a way he knows can't be flattering.

All thoughts about his lack of dexterity fly out the window when he looks into his screen. On their date, Steve was perfectly put together. Hair meticulously done, clothes freshly pressed, and a light sheen of lipgloss accentuating the perfect curve of his mouth. While Steve is still beautiful through the lens of his camera, it's clear that he's been crying. His eyes are red and a little puffy, hair out of order in a way Eddie thinks is probably unusual for him, and Eddie can see that he's wearing a well-loved beige hoodie.

"Hi," Steve says, waving a shy hand almost the same way he had last night.

"Hey sweetheart," Eddie says, keeping his voice low and gentle, desperate to soothe Steve however he can through the distance of their phones.

For a minute they just look at each other, neither one knowing what to say in a situation like this. Eddie sees Steve gearing up to say something, but he cuts in before he starts. There's something he needs to say while Steve can see him face to face.

"I'm really sorry about what happened!" He says, much lounder than he intended. "My friends were being dicks. I haven't dated in a while and instead of being normal fucking people they set up this whole stupid prank but I swear I wasn't in on it!"

Something about what he says draws a small smile from the corner of Steve's mouth, so Eddie keeps talking. "Besides, if they wanted to prank me they should have picked someone that isn't a literal fucking model in disguise. There wasn't a chance in hell I wasn't going to beg you for that second date."

At that, Steve gives a little chuckle and it lifts Eddie's heart from where it'd fallen onto the floor and puts in back in his chest 10 times lighter than before.

"Jesus, are you always such a flirt Munson?" he says.

"Only when the boys are especially pretty," Eddie responds.

Steve gives another little laugh at that before sobering up. He gives Eddie a long look through the phone, and Eddie lets him.

"Are you sure you don't want to just call it quits here man? Gareth was pretty adamant that I'm not the kind of guy you usually go for. I don't want you to feel like you have to humor me out of kindness." There's a forced flippancy to Steve's words that Eddie knows well from his own Munson Coping Strategies Handbook. Steve is trying to give him an out, but Eddie can tell that he doesn't want to.

For the first time since this all started, Eddie is well and truly mad. Gareth and Jeff had absolutely no business poking around in his love life in the first place, but now they've reached out to the guy Eddie already told them he liked to what? Tell him never mind actually, we don't think you're the right guy for our friend even though he told us very explicitly how into you he is.

Eddie lets all the frustration, anger, and tenuous hope building up in his chest fuel his reply. This one has to count, he can feel it. It's a charisma saving throw with the whole campaign on the line. He can't miss this one.

"Honestly Steve, if you asked me two days ago what I was looking for in a partner, I probably would have said I wanted to date another alternative metalhead or punk who likes playing DnD and getting high on the weekend." Eddie can see Steve's shoulders slump as his eyes dart away, but he pushes on, determined to make his point.

"But, I haven't had as good a time as we had last night in a really long time." Steve looks back up, eyes alight with the same tentative hope Eddie himself is channeling. "I think you're funny and interesting, and you have the absolute worst takes on ice cream flavors, and you're hot as hell. Like, seriously the hottest guy I've ever seen in real life."

Steve smiles, the edges of his eyes crinkling.

Critical success.

"So, about that second date."

Part Three

-------

Tag List

@wheneverfeasible @the-dark-hearts @sofadofax @wrenisfangirling @whatfinestandsfor @lilpomelito @raisedbylibrarians @ollyxar @mugloversonly @xxbottlecapx @hezaaxdexangelous @kimsnooks @that-one-gay-crow

[gloomysoup]

a secret worth keeping

@steddiebingo prompt: sneaking around | rating: m | word count: 2319 | tags: secret relationship, rockstar eddie, hockey player steve, modern au | ao3

🏒 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 🏒

“I can't believe I let you two drag me to a hockey game,” Eddie grumbled as they moved through the crowd to get to their seats. “It's too cold in here. And I have to watch sports! This is, like, the exact opposite of how I wanted to spend our off day.”

“Come on, Eddie! It'll be fun!” Gareth said, knocking his shoulder into Eddie’s.

“What about this is fun, Gareth?!” Eddie screeched, drawing a few stares from those around them. “It's hockey! It's cold, and it's sports, and you know I can't stand sports! I am already miserable. What makes you think I’m going to have fun?”

“Christ, Eddie, can't you just try to enjoy something someone else likes for once in your life?” Jeff grumbled with an eye roll. He sat in his seat, decked out in his favorite hockey jersey, which he always takes on the road with him. He claims it's for luck, but Eddie secretly thinks he just doesn't want to leave it at home with his slightly psychotic girlfriend. Eddie never did like her. He still doesn't understand why Jeff doesn't just break up with her, but he'd never say that out loud. He's had his own fair share of bad relationships that the guys graciously don't make fun of him for… anymore.

“It's not my fault you guys picked the one thing you know I can't stand,” Eddie shot back.

“Eddie, man, just shut the fuck up for once,” David snapped. “Hockey isn't really my thing either, but you don't hear me complaining.”

Eddie, clearly outnumbered by his so-called friends, huffed and flopped down into his seat at the end of the row. Curse Gareth and Jeff, and their stupid hockey team. Eddie slouched in his seat, arms crossed, as the teams came to the bench. Their manager, Chrissy, had scored them seats in the front row, right behind Gareth and Jeff’s team’s bench. It didn't take long for Eddie’s friends to be on their feet, cheering and yelling with the rest of the crowd.

Eddie couldn't possibly care less.

-

He loathed to admit it, but hockey was actually… kind of interesting? He had zero clue what was going on, like, at all, but there were some moments that he couldn't help but be intrigued. Particularly when the players landed some hard hits on each other.

What really got his attention, though, was the fight.

They were reaching the tail end of the second period. The game was tied, 3-3. Tension was high. A player from Gareth and Jeff’s team— he didn't catch the number— took a shot at the goal just as an opposing player slammed into him from the side. The guy went straight into the glass, and then he pushed the player back. He got a stick to the side for his troubles. Within seconds, they were shoving each other, sticks left forgotten on the ice. It wasn't long after that the refs broke it up, sending both players to their respective penalty boxes. Eddie watched in fascination as the player from Gareth and Jeff’s team pushed his way into the box, slamming his stick into the wall and ripping his helmet off.

It was like a Greek God was walking among them, playing hockey of all things. The man was gorgeous. Eddie watched in pure wonder as he rubbed a hand over his face, combed his fingers through his hair, and whacked the glass with his stick again. He could see the frustration, but he was too absorbed in his staring to care.

“Who is that?” Eddie asked, barely sparing a glance towards his friends as he continued to stare.

“Who’s who?” Gareth asked, tearing his eyes away from the game for the first time since the period started.

“That.” Eddie nodded toward the box, where the Greek God of a hockey player was shoving his helmet back over his head and talking to the guy standing in front of the door.

“The guy in our box? 23?”

“Yeah. Him. Who is he?”

“Steve Harrington. He's from Indiana too, actually. Second overall pick from Ohio State two years ago. He's good.”

“He's hot.”

Jeff whipped around to give Eddie an incredulous look. “Dude….”

“What? Can’t a guy appreciate a good-looking man?”

“And what about your doctrine, huh? Thought you had a thing against jocks? Or does that not apply to dating?”

Eddie shrugged. “Who said I had to date him?”

Gareth wrinkled his nose. “Gross, dude.”

Eddie’s eyes didn't leave 23 for the rest of the game.

-

This was stupid.

What the hell was he thinking.

Eddie laid in his bunk on the tour bus, staring at his phone screen, stuck in an endless loop of internal turmoil.

He hit the backspace button until the message was gone. His thumbs tapped across the screen. Delete again. Type again.

He set his phone down on his chest and blew out a long breath.

This was so fucking stupid.

He picked it back up and looked at the message again… only to realize he’d accidentally hit send.

Fuck.

Eddie sat up quickly, momentarily forgetting where he was, and whacked his head off the top of the bunk.

“Shit!”

His phone tumbled from his hand and clattered to the floor. A string of curses fell from his lips as he scrambled for his phone. The bus turned, sending his phone sliding across the bus and bumping into Jeff’s bunk down at the end of the row.

“No, no, no, I got it,” Eddie rushed as Jeff reached down to pick it up. Too late.

“What's got your panties in a twist?” Jeff asked as he picked it up. He started to hand it back to Eddie, but obviously caught a glimpse at the screen. He snatched it back before Eddie could grab it from his hand, looking intently at the screen and cackling. “Oh my god, you did not!"

“Shut up,” Eddie hissed, reaching for his phone. “Just give it back!”

Gareth poked his head out from his bunk, eyebrows furrowed and clearly still half asleep. “What's goin’ on?”

Eddie glared at Jeff. “Don't.” Jeff just grinned maliciously right back at him.

“Eddie slid into Harrington’s DMs.”

Gareth perked up, much more awake with the new information. “Oh, no, he didn't.”

“He did!” Eddie hid his face in his hands, already feeling his cheeks burn. “Wait, he's texting back!”

“Give it back, Jeff,” Eddie begged hopelessly, knowing it wasn't going to do him any good. Jeff held his phone out of reach, watching the screen for the message that was going to come through any minute.

“Dude, I can't believe you actually sent him a message,” Gareth commented with a laugh.

“And I can't believe it worked,” Jeff added. “He said, ‘Glad to see I have a fan’. With a winking emoji.”

“This is stupid,” Eddie huffed, snatching his phone from Jeff’s hand. “Y’all suck. I'm going to bed.”

Eddie thought that would be the end of it. He sent a stupid message, got a trained reply, and that was that. Oh boy, was he wrong.

He didn't tell a soul. It was their little secret. And honestly? Eddie thought it was kind of fun. Sneaking around, meeting in hotel rooms on the road, texting every day. It was thrilling. Eddie’s never had a secret that fun before. His friends still poked fun at him for the initial message from time to time, but Eddie always blew off further questioning with a simple, “It didn't work out.” But he would sneak off to meet with Steve every chance he got.

Eddie was playing a dangerous game.

With every secret meeting, with every text sent and night spent together, Eddie fell more and more in love with Steve Harrington. He'd probably be more upset about it if Steve hadn't made it so easy to fall. Steve Harrington also made Eddie take risks he wouldn't normally take. Like sneaking him into the hotel room that his bandmates also had a key for.

“I missed you,” Eddie murmured against Steve’s lips, fingers tangled in his still-damp hair. It was late. Steve had an evening practice and went straight to Eddie’s nearby hotel after. A hotel that Eddie specifically asked for, because he knew it was close to the rink.

“Missed you too,” Steve whispered back before kissing Eddie again, hard and deep. “It's almost playoff season. I'll be done soon, 'til next season. I can come see you more.”

Eddie loved how breathless Steve sounded. Loved that he was the reason.

Their clothes dropped to the floor piece by piece as they migrated to the bed, leaving a trail of wandering hands in their wake. Eddie pushed Steve back onto the bed, taking a moment to admire the way his hair fanned out beneath him and his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat. He couldn't keep his mouth off of him for long, though. He trailed kisses across his torso, sucking a bruise here and there. He slipped his hand between them, toying with the button on Steve’s pants before finally popping it open and sliding the zipper down. Steve’s eyes were closed, eyelashes brushing across his cheeks, and he was already panting. Eddie watched as he pulled his arms up above his head, stretching his torso more. Eddie couldn't help it. He ran his hand up Steve’s abs, relishing in the shiver he received. His hand trailed back down, fingers scratching against the hair beneath his navel, dipping lower and lower and-

Click.

“Yo, Eddie!”

The door pushed open, and there were his bandmates.

“Oh my fucking god.”

Eddie’s head collapsed onto Steve’s stomach as he groaned. Of course this would happen now. Eddie couldn't even bring himself to look up, to face what was happening. He knew he would have to. He couldn't get out of this one. But now he's dragged Steve into it too. Perfect Steve, who has been so good to him and didn't deserve to be put in the middle of Eddie’s band’s bullshit.

“Eddie, what the actual fuck.” Jeff’s voice broke through after what felt like hours of silence.

Eddie took a deep breath and lifted his head, knowing it was time to face this head on. “Guys, Steve, Steve, the guys.”

“Eddie. Dude. You cannot be serious right now.”

“Yeah, man,” Gareth added. “You owe us an explanation.”

“I don't owe y'all shit,” Eddie muttered, still very much aware that he is still in a compromising position. “What I do in my free time is none of your business.”

Jeff crossed his arms and raised his brow. “Uh huh. Sure. So it was none of your business when you caught Gareth losing his virginity to that model? Or how about when David was on that ecstasy kick a while back?”

“Dude,” Gareth hissed, smacking Jeff in the shoulder. “Do you really have to spill our fucking secrets like that in front of Steve Harrington?”

“That's different,” Eddie argued.

“How is that any different than this, Eddie? Is it because this time it's you? You can butt into our business, but when we catch you with Steve Harrington, it's none of our business?”

Eddie grumbles, knowing deep down Jeff is right. This isn't any different than the other times. They've always shared everything with each other. His business is the band’s business, and vice versa. That's how they've always been. No secrets. Well, not until this. Not until Steve. Which… actually isn't much of a secret anymore.

“How long has this been going on?” Gareth asked. “Because, y'know, we asked. How long were you lying, Eddie?”

Eddie knew they were just joking. He knew they weren't taking it that seriously. But still. Did they have to take digs at him like that?

“It wasn't like that, dickbags,” Eddie snarked. “You're just too nosy. Can't have anything to myself.” Eddie couldn't help the small smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips.

Jeff rolled his eyes, but he was fighting a smile of his own. “Whatever, man. We still expect to hear about it later. Don't do anything stupid, because I am not giving up my hockey team for you.”

With that, the guys left, closing the door with a soft click behind them. Eddie groaned into the duvet. He only looked up when Steve started laughing; a little snort turning into a fit of giggles.

“I'm sorry,” Steve said through his giggles. “It's just- it was just- so funny. I'm sorry.”

Eddie shook his head, a smile on his face. “You, Steve Harrington, are absolutely ridiculous.”

“And you're not?” Steve challenged, still fighting through his giggles.

Eddie shook his head again and leaned up to kiss him. “They're never going to let me live this down.”

“Oh, baby, neither am I,” Steve whispered with a smile against Eddie’s lips.

Eddie leaned back a little to see Steve’s face. “That mean you're gonna stick around? Even after that whole debacle?”

“Well, I think I have to now.” Steve’s smile was soft, filling Eddie with a warmth he's not sure he's ever felt before. “Can't make it awkward for Jeff, can I? With the hockey team and all.”

Eddie chuckled before leaning in and kissing Steve again. The heat of the moment was gone, but that was okay. Eddie was content just to be there, in the moment. They spent their night trading lazy kisses and drawing patterns on their skin with their fingertips. In the morning, Eddie knew he’d have to face his friends. He'd have to explain everything, because Corroded Coffin didn't keep secrets from each other.

Oh well.

Sneaking around was fun while it lasted, sure, but now he gets to annoy the shit out of his friends talking about Steve whenever he wants. It was a win-win for him.

The guys were really about to regret dragging Eddie to that hockey game.

[wynnyfryd]

“Harrington!!!” Eddie slurs from across the room when Steve walks into the party — eyes closed, head lolled, big cheeseball grin on his flushed pink face. “My dick works again!!!”

Uh. “G-good for you, man!”

Frank cracks open a fresh beer. “Don’t listen to him, man, he’s drunk.”

“I am drunk,” Eddie agrees enthusiastically, leaning over to paw Frank’s drink out of his hand and nearly knocking it to the ground. Beer spills over the lip of the can; runs down Frank’s hand and wrist all the way to his elbow. Eddie proudly pronounces, “I’m drunk and I’m healed and my dick is fuckin’ func��� fuckin’— uh— work good?”

“Well, Jee. Zus. Christ.” Frank punctuates each syllable with a wipe of his wet hand across Eddie’s shirt. “Just keep your functional fuckstick in your pants, ya fuckin’ caveman.”