#eddie: menace gremlin boyfriend

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie gives Steve the most obscene Valentine's Day cards. Nothing homemade, just an unassuming store-bought card that's all pink with a cheesy, 'I choo-choo choose you'-type train pun or whatever. But in it contains absolute filth written in Eddie's cramped handwriting.

What he likes doing to Steve. What he wants to whisper in Steve's ear while he does said things. What he likes Steve doing to him. Vivid descriptions of his body. Vivid descriptions of everything, really. What he's going to do to Steve before the day is out...

The first time Steve receives such a card is their first Valentine's together in 1987. He's at work, drudging through a day shift with Robin when he feels something crinkle in his back pocket as he slumps onto the wheely chair behind the counter. He furrows his brow and shuffles around to retrieve it, smirking when he sees Eddie's handwriting on the envelope.

'Steve' with a little heart next to his name.

"What is that?" Robin asks, looking up from the magazine she is sharing with Nancy, who's decided to pop in and out throughout the day as part of their romantic plans.

If you can call hanging out in a dead Family Video and stacking returns 'romantic'.

"Looks to be a card from my secret admirer," Steve replies with a shit-eating grin, as he waves around the envelope.

He pointedly chooses not to acknowledge Robin's eye roll.

He ungracefully tears the envelope as he opens it and giggles at the greeting card. It features two cartoon pears on the front, hugging and smiling against a pink background with the words, 'Quite the pearing' floating above them.

It's so goddamn silly. But he loves it.

Steve opens the card and is bombarded with Eddie's writing, scrawled all over the inside. The black pen and uneven handwriting look positively chaotic against the pink background as it slopes and narrowly misses the inside 'Happy Valentine's Day' message.

He gasps and drops the card, bringing a hand to his mouth after catching the word, "suck".

His idiot boyfriend has given him a dirty Valentine's card.

Nancy snorts a laugh and turns a page of her magazine, ignoring him while Robin makes a face.

"What does it say?" she asks, beaming as she hops off the counter, grateful for a distraction.

She reaches down and scoops up the card before Steve can reboot and take any action to stop her.

She stands, opening the card.

And poor, sweet Robin reads a line about Steve's ahem... appendage, before she can stop herself.

"OH MY GOD!" she shrieks, throwing the card immediately as she screws her eyes shut and shakes her head, her hair flying and frizzing as she waves her arms across her face. "Nope! No, no, no!"

Steve watches, frozen on the spot as the card falls to the ground, again. This time open.

Nancy leans over the countertop and squints.

"Oh," she says low, blushing as she makes out a sentence describing Steve and Eddie's bedroom activities.

Steve finally manages to do something. Which is to dive to the floor and scramble on his hands and knees for the card and its envelope. He jumps to his feet, holding Eddie's card to his chest, fearing the entire universe has now read it.

"I'm going to the back room," he splutters. "I should... Probably read it properly."

"EW!" Robin screams as he rushes to the storeroom door and slams it shut as Nancy rounds the counter.

"Do you think I can call Keith and say I have to go home to gauge my eyeballs out," Robin asks, talking a mile a minute as she reaches for Nancy's embrace.

"Robbie, calm down," she chuckles, hugging her tight. "It was... A lot. But we'll be fine. The most important thing is Eddie really likes Steve."

"I'm going to say he likes him too much!" Robin laments with an overly dramatic dry sob.

Nancy stifles a hearty laugh as she rubs Robin's back and thinks about what she should write on her own card to her girlfriend in readiness for their dinner date.

Although, she'll clean it up significantly. Maybe.

Later, Steve practically kicks the trailer door down, flustered.

"Oh, goody. You found my card," Eddie grins, hopping up from the couch with an unfairly chipper pep in his step considering the chaos he has caused.

"Yeah," Steve mumbles, nodding matter-of-factly.

Eddie steps forward, his wicked dimples on full display as he snakes an arm around Steve and shoves a hand in his back pocket.

He leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Slipped it in your back pocket before you went to work, sweetheart."

"Fuck," Steve huffs, running a hand through his hair.

Ronance continuation HERE

[corrodedbisexual]

I just realized this jacket is so underrated for Steddie.

Because Eddie would be an absolute menace about that shoulder pocket. He'd keep trying to sneak things into it just to see how much he can get away with.

He gets away with it all the time.

Eddie is so damn proud of himself. He is the reverse Artful Dodger. Absolute sleight of hand god. Natural 20 every damn time.

Meanwhile, Steve just patiently waits and deliberately keeps looking away until he's sure his gremlin boyfriend's fingers are no longer wriggling into his pocket. The biggest challenge is not laughing at Eddie's fake innocent expression when Steve looks at him right after another mischief. He finds it absolutely hilarious that Eddie genuinely seems to think he's being super sneaky, so he keeps humoring him.

Occasionally Steve realizes his shoulder is getting considerably heavy, or something starts digging into his flesh, and he sighs and empties it all into a designated drawer in his bedroom. It's already full of little rocks of all shapes and colors, acorns, dry flowers, kids' marbles, bubble gum wrappers, bird feathers, beer caps and old movie tickets.

It's absolute trash, technically. A trash dragon hoard. But he doesn't have the heart to throw it all away. And he's glad he didn't, by the time their one year anniversary arrives, because Robin (who's in on the joke, obviously) gives him the coolest gift idea.

Steve arranges all the items inside a frame and covers them in epoxy resin. When he presents his gift to his boyfriend, Eddie's a total mess of simultaneously laughing, crying and trying to devour Steve's face. He proudly hangs this masterpiece up above his bed.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Promptober: Day Twenty One

Steve Harrington x fem!reader 805 words.

“Hey, remind me again why we’re doing this?” 

You looked over your shoulder to see Steve squinting at you under the bright sun, blue skies and the October chill making the day a perfect autumn crisp. 

But Steve hated the cold, so your boyfriend was scowling, bundled in layers of a sweater and a smart coat that Eddie always poked fun at, a scarf that was wound around his neck not once, but twice. 

He looked unbelievably adorable, but his mood suggested that he wouldn’t appreciate you telling him that. His arms were crossed, holding his coat tighter to his chest as he followed you through the lines of trees, stepping over fallen fruit that had started to rot and soften. 

You smiled at him, hoping to soften his grumpy demeanour. “I told you, babe, Joyce and Mrs Sinclair wanted to make some pies, so…”

You gestured to the orchard, each tree weighed down with apples, some green, some brilliantly red and some inbetween. You shifted your basket to your other arm, reached out to inspect one on a low hanging branch and plucked it with a satisfying grin. 

“Yeah, no, I got that part,” Steve sighed, taking bigger strides to catch up with you. “I just don’t get why we’re the ones that are here.” 

You turned, pouting when you saw his arms were still crossed, brow creased. His cheeks and nose were pink with the cold and the wind had picked at his hair as you both walked through the farm, the brown strands looking soft and a little wild.

“Because Mrs Sinclair is working late shifts before the holidays and Joyce is taking your kids to the fair with Hopper,” you said it like Steve should’ve been grateful, as if it were a favour for a favour and when Steve scoffed like you knew he would, you grinned. 

“Babe, they’re not my kids,” Steve grumbled, finally uncrossing his arms to take hold of the basket full of apples that he realised must’ve been getting too heavy for you. “They’re gremlins and they’re an inconvenience and somehow, even at fourteen, they’re always just a little bit sticky—”

“You were the one who promised those gremlins a trip to the fair in the first place,” you reminded him, trying to sound stern. But Steve had stepped closer and was pushing a cold hand to your neck, fingers and thumb cupping your jaw as he pouted at you. “Don’t try and distract me, Harrington.”

Finally, a grin. Your favourite version of the boy because he smiled and lit up and it was like summer had returned, just for a moment or two. 

“I know,” he sighed, “but I stupidly agreed to work more shifts and when I finally get out all I wanna do is go and see my girl,” he leaned down, nudged his nose to your cheek with more affection than you could handle. “S’that so bad of me?”

A kiss, another, a line of them pressed sweet to your cheek, finally landing at the corner of your mouth until Steve grinned. Your eyes had closed without you even realising. 

“You’re a menace,” you told him, a whisper full of fondness. It hurt how much you liked this boy. “If you wanna spend time with me, why’re you complaining now, huh?”

Steve leant his forehead against yours, the basket an unwanted obstruction between you both. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiled when you lifted your chin for him so he could give you another and another and another. 

“It’s really fuckin’ cold,” he all but whined and his complaint made you laugh. 

“I’ll warm you up when we get home, okay?” It was a promise that you made sound as dirty as you could, voice lowered, looking at the boy through your lashes. “How’s that sound?”

Steve pretended to think it over, thumb smoothing over your cheek, a touch that was so full of love that it made your stomach tumble. 

“Make it the back of the car and I won’t complain again.”

You gasped, trying to sound scandalislised, as if you hadn’t spent far too much time under and on top of the boy in the backseat of his BMW. 

“Steve Harrington, you’re filthy,” you whispered but you were grinning and so was he. 

“And so are my new boots,” he grumbled but the smile was still there and his arm was needling around your neck to pull you into him again. 

Another kiss, cold noses pushed to cold cheeks, longer this time, a soft, slow slant of his mouth over your own that made you sigh into him. He hummed at your noise, smiled against you when you tried to chase the kiss for more but Steve pulled away, laughing. 

“C’mon pretty girl, there’s apples to be picked.”

[ready-eddie]

Eddie with a marching band gf:

A mix of more headcanons and blurbs, using previous headcanons brainstormed with @erosso

A/N: all I’m saying is Eddie’s a goblin type boyfriend and I love that for him he’s trying his best okay

• Like I said, he’s the band mom, but only for you.

“Hey band mom! Do we have any more snacks I’m starving!” As he’s guarding a pile of trail mix, chips, and a handful of chocolates, eating his own pack of trail mix, mouth full: “Nope fresh out kid!”

He’s also a little shit so it’s 50/50 if he’ll actually be band mom for you:

“So band mom, do we have any more snacks?” You ask, giving minimal attention to the sports game the band is supporting, your eyes meeting his big brown doe eyes as he munches away.

“Am I not enough of a snack for you? Geez 🙄”

You did not end up getting any pre or post half time snacks 😐 10/10 chance he probably ate them all lbr

• Football games in late November early December? Hell even in the south US it snowed I can only imagine Indiana in early winter.

Do you feel any ounce of cold? No. Eddie has cocooned the two of you in a mountain of blankets while the rest of the band has become musical popsicles.

• His seat could be right next to the band, 2 steps away from where you were sitting but you can bet he will take the long away around just to step on people feet and just “Move! I’m tryna see my girlfriend!” He absolutely loves calling you his girlfriend and will scream it from the heavens if he could.

Someone tries to get onto him for broken toes (mans probably STOMPS lbr)?

He like, barks at them.

Eddie Munson barks at people and you can’t convince me otherwise. Mans feral. Sue me.

Someone goes to say something and he just:

• if the director hasn’t kicked him out for being a menace to society, he will 100% sit and stare while you practice. He gets the need to practice, especially without distractions so he will just stare, mesmerized by your talent and he will, without hesitation hype you up when you’re beating yourself up over a section.

• he has multiple banners made up; one for official games, one for practices, and just a general banner he keeps on his person 24/7. His practice banner? Same thing as the official game banner but more pint sized. You’ll be practicing on the field, going through drills and he’s just

Legit he could be by himself in the bleachers, watching you walk around and he’s just on cloud nine

• will 100% ask if you could teach him how to play. Doesn’t matter what you play, he wants to learn. Alternatively, if you ask him to teach you guitar? He’s ecstatic. He’s not entirely used to people showing interest in his interests so part of him is trying not to scare you off but another part of him is like “I can show you the world~”

•tries to slip his own sheet music into your folder

You learn it anyway just to surprise him and he’s over the moon

“You really took the time to learn this??”

“Of course I did, you wrote it and I just knew it had to be a masterpiece”

Hearteyes. He could propose right then and there. It was probably in that moment in your relationship that he knew he was in deep

• he skips class to stand in the door of the band room but he also makes faces and does a little dance and jig if you notice him. Passerby have never been more confused but they know not to question it at this point

Poor Robin was confused about it at first but eventually just looks at you and says “y/n please deal with your gremlin”

Said gremlin tries to sneak into the band hall after being banned for being too distracting. Said gremlin also steals your jacket and maybe a scrunchie/hair tie in an attempt to blend in and not be noticed. Said gremlin gets kicked out in seconds, with all your belongings that he swiped

• your picture in uniform on a pin on his jacket? He wears it proudly and if someone asks or even glances at it? “Oh yeah that’s my girlfriend 😏”

• “Babe is the pin really necessary? I look so dorky PLS”

“Yes but you’re my dork and I love you~”

On another note: orchestra gf? Image of sophistication and grace. Eddie mf’n Munson? 👹 that’s it. Just 👹. Perfect duo 10/10

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

secret son part 3

A/N: please let me know what you think! If anyone has any requests please send them to me! 

Summary: Matt is performing for his schools talent show, which Myra will also be present for.  

It’s excruciatingly hot in the car, sweat dripping down Richie’s face making his body feel clam and gross, while he’s almost panting like a dog. It’s not summer yet, but it’s June and that means that it is summer in Richie’s mind, but even he hadn’t been able to predict this type of weather. 

The sun is shining scorching hot, burning almost anything she touches, not a giving way to even a slight breeze, and it fucking shows. Normally, the trip from their house to Matt’s school is only a half-hour, but today, it seems all the odds are stacked against them.

Everyone collective decided to go on a trip this weekend apparently, causing a blockage of cars as far as Richie can see it, and they were late to begin with. Eddie’s gripping the steering wheel between his fingers like a vice, vibrating and his face a dark shade of bloody red, but that might not have anything to do with the heat. For a moment, his mouth turns into a sneer again, opening his mouth to yell at the drives before them, but then he shakes his head and takes a few deep breathes.

Richie contemplates calling Myra again, to let her know that they’ll be late so she can let Matt know, but that will most likely send her into another tirade, and that is the last thing they need right now. As they stop for the third time in 3 meters, Richie vows to buy Matthew a phone, whether it be against Eddie’s wishes or not.

The twenty-first annual middle school talent show is hosting its show tonight, and Matt had asked Richie and Eddie to show up. They said yes, of course, both of them more than excited to see their son perform on stage, even if the show itself will just be a bunch of middle-schoolers, dancing and parading.

Their son, a voice repeats in his head. Not deter by the atmosphere hanging around him and his boyfriend, Richie’s heartstrings pull together, making Richie feel breathless for a second. Cause that’s what Matt is to him now, his son. Maybe not biologically, but in every way that it counts.

Matt called his pops a few times as a joke whenever Richie would mirror Eddie’s ministration, like warning him to be careful in the park, or not to go with strangers, a testimony to how many times he had overheard Eddie say it, and a habit developed from there.

Sure, Matt still calls him; ‘Richie’ sometimes, mostly when Myra is around, or when they’re taking playful jabs at each other, but all in all, Richie has become pops. The name suits him, Eddie told him, but it still seems a little unreal to Richie, that he trashmouth Tozier, is a dad to a wonderful kid. Said kid also wants to spend as much time with him as possible, spending every week and weekend with them, expect a weekend every two weeks with his mother.

That’s a fair deal in Richie’s books, considering that it was Matt who wanted the arrangement to be like that, but Myra had to audacity of claiming that Richie poisoned his mind against her, and that he was the one manipulating Matt to make these claims. He hadn’t expected her to forfeit like that straight away, but he also hadn’t expected her to do everything she could to make Matt have to go to her. She fought Eddie for full custody, ignoring all of her sons own pleas to her.

She lost, but the whole thing resulted in Eddie being more aggravated to her, for trying to take away his son, whereas before, he was content to leave her be as long as she didn’t interfere in his life.

‘Motherfucker’, Eddie mumbles under his breath angrily, a grunt-like sound originating from him as he watches the car in front of them skid to a halt again, his face turning more sour by the minute.

Experience has taught Richie that he best lets Eddie rage inside his mind for a little way, at least until he has inwardly yelled at everyone and everything in his mind, before attempting to talk him down.

They’ve both gotten much better at that, both Eddie and Richie. Richie so he can stop his motormouth running a mile a minute, spouting out whatever comes to mind to stop the situation from exacerbating, usually leading to the situating exacerbating, and Eddie has accumulated hos behavior, not lashing out at people who don’t deserve it.

‘Hey fucker,’ Eddie seethes when they reach a crossroad, a car coming in from the left and cutting them off, even though that won’t make him get to his destination any faster, the flow of traffic still blocked like Eddies mom’s underwear.

‘Was that so worth it asshole? What you gonna do now? Speed away?’

Richie places his hand on Eddie’s arm that’s still wrapped around the gear stick that’s off no use, rubbing what he hopes are comforting circles on his upper arm.

Eddie’s eyes turn to his, a sigh escaping him as he takes his hand of he wheel, one of them interlocking with Richie’s hand.

‘You’re right, you’re right Rich. But I don’t wanna be late to my sons performance. You know how Myra is going to have him agitated, and I wish we could be there to calm him down.’

Richie does know, which is why it sucked balls that Matt was going over to her house this weekend of all times. Compromising had been no use, Myra kept insisting that it was her time and they weren’t going to take that away from here, even when Eddie promised her that Matt could go the weekend after.

A call from Matt’s teacher had informed them that Matt was in fact not present during rehearsals on Friday after school, and that told Richie and Eddie all they needed to know.

Contacting Matt was off no use, since he had no phone and Myra refused to let them interact with one another. Again, Richie made a mental note to gift Matt an iPhone or something alike, and no one was stopping him.

‘I know Eds, but that guy is not responsible for that. Stop reacting to other people in daily life like you do during our sexy times.’

The punch to his arm is hard, but he sniggers regardless.  

Taking another peek out the window told Richie they were getting nowhere, so he exhaled harshly, preparing himself for the worst.

‘Okay, do your best Eds, give it to the speeding brake like I gave it to your mom every night.’

Richie expects a retort back, an angry fuck you maybe, or a middle finger, but instead he is gifted the sight of speechless Eddie, his mouth open in shock.

‘You’re serious?’ He asks, even though Eddie has already made up his mind, and is fastly shifting into speed gremlin mode.

With his head thrown back, Richie releases a loud groan, rumbling from all the way in his chest. ‘Yes, now hurry up before I regret it, lay it all on me Jesus.’

A menacing smirk that threatens to overtake every other feature in Eddie’s face, Eddie presses a short kiss to his mouth, pulling back before Richie even has a chance to reciprocate, and speeds off to the emergency lane on their right side.

Eddie is a monster while driving, which is why it’s Richie that drives most of the time, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

The clocks ticks on unforgivably, striking three pm exact when Richie looks at it, and let that be the exact time when the show is supposed to start.

They’re too late to wish Matt good luck, but at the very least he’ll see both of them in the audience in their designated seats, right next to Myra. If he doesn’t, Richie fears that he might panic.

Driving on the emergency line is highly illegal, but Eddie brushes that aside as he propels his way to the parking lot.

It takes the barely five minutes after that. They got honked at countless of times, but they made it on time, so Richie counts it as a win anyway. Jumping out of the car before it has even come to a complete stop is dangerous, but discarded on the side when they rush inside the school.

The show has started, but Matt was not the first one on, thankfully, so all they’ve missed is the speech that the principal always gives at the beginning of these kind of events, and a kid who thinks she can play the flute, but really all she’s doing in blowing air into the instrument.

Richie claps animatedly anyway, her moment over when they get in, since he knows what it feels like to be laughed at for something you like the do, and she’s also a kid, so she deserves a pass.

Eddie claps too, snorting when he sees the absolute ridiculous movements his boyfriend is making.

‘What the hell are you doing Rich?’

‘I’m just granting this little girl what you and the rest of the losers deprived me off. Validation for my talents.’ Eddie whips around lightning fast, his laugh loud and uninhabited while he raises his middle finger to Richie.

‘Do those talents include humor?’ While they’re talking, both of them carefully tiptoe around other parents and grand-parents, trying to find a way to get to their seats. He nearly steps on someone toes, offering them a short apology and hopes they except it, but he is too busy avoiding every one else to see if they’re angry or not.

‘Well yes of course Edward. You as young lad should have seen the absolute hidden potential that was harvesting in me.’

Eddie laughs so loud that his knees nearly buckle, several people shushing him even though there’s no one left on stage, and they’re waiting for the next person to make an appearance.

‘Oh please, you’re still not funny now what makes you think you were then?’

In their haste, the knowledge that they would have to spend the entire late afternoon with Eddie ex-wife had disappeared off into the background, but then Richie makes eye contact with her, and it back with much vigor.

Richie wants to slouch, dread already pulling him down towards the ground, but he refuses to let Myra drag him down, and he has Eddie with him anyway, so it’s not that bad.

As soon as their eyes meet, Myra, like a cliche, turns her nose up and looks away, acting as if she is the one that is ashamed of them. There are two empty seats next to her, who will be occupied in a second by them, but Richie still searches for another vacant spot, without luck.

It’s ridiculous anyway, since the seat were granted two weeks before today. It’s a mystery to Richie who organized the seating arrangements, but man did they fuck up bad.

Eddie, who is walking in front of him, reaches out to grab Richie’s hand, squeezing two times for strength and asking Richie for protection, despite him not needing any. His not fearful of his former wife, but she gets under his skin, and not in the good way that Richie can, make him struggle to remain his composer.

Remorsefully, Richie says goodbye to his sanity, a polite and cheerful face covering him like a mask, even when all he really wants to do is yell in her face.

He stills Eddie by placing two of his large hands against his arms, effectively stopping him from walking any further, and moves to stand closest to her.

Someone else has made his way on stage, this time the kid is dancing, and his music is loud enough that Richie can speak in a normal voice, which still means he has to keep it down.

He ploughs down in the middle seat, right in between Myra and where Eddie will be in a second, like a wall between the two of them. Eddie shoots him a grateful smile, sitting down in his chair much more gracefully than Richie, with his hands in his lap.

‘Hello Myra,’ Richie greets her, to establish to her that they were not planning on being rude to her. If anyone was going to start a ruckus, it would be her.

‘Richard’, she greets, followed by ‘Edward.’

Hearing his full name sound absolutely ridiculous to Richie, but he ignores to avoid creating an argument, god knows Myra only needed one slam word and she would blow off.

‘Myra’, Eddie too nods at Myra, Richie bites his lips to stop himself from making a fool of the situation, but by the knowing look in Eddie’s eyes, he knows that Eddie knows what he wanted to say.

After the boy, there are two more children, then a group, and then a little girl comes up. Boredom is starting to take it’s toll on Richie, who can’t sit still if it could help save his life, so his knew has been insistently bouncing since the dancing act.

Eddie helps somewhat by hooking his leg under Richie’s, their ankles linked while his hand plays with the bracelet on Eddie’s wrist, made by Matt when he was being babysit by Ben and Bev.

The girl is shaking all the way through her body, the microphone she’s holding swaying dangerously. Her face is ashen white, and she looks about two seconds away from vomiting, which Richie can relate too. Being on stage is scary, especially when you’re that young, a pang of sympathy for the girl embracing him in it’s warm hold.

The song she has chosen to sing was let it go from frozen, but she only made it past 1/4 of the song, when she forgets her lines and makes up her own lyrics.

The lyrics do not make any sense, she’s mostly naming things she can see, ranging from things like curtains, to teachers, the mortification on her face revealing how embarrassed she is.

It’s that that makes Richie stand up resolutely when the final note dies out, leaping to his feet to applaud her as much and as loud as he can.

‘This is I folks, the best act of the night. Nothing can top this. The way that she improvised is a talent that is rarely seen in anyone ever before.’ Richie whoops, preening when other parents join in on the applause, and the little girls face lits up like a Christmas tree.

He’s only half kidding. He’s going to find Matt the best no matter what, call it a part of fatherhood, but the girl was really inventive, and she did not give up. Besides, seeing the tears in her eyes blinked away is enough to make Richie smile in delight.

When everything dies down and he retrieves his seat again, a woman taps him on the shoulder. She’s holding a camera in her hands that she puts away and grins.

‘Thank you. That was my daughter, I can’t tell you how happy this will have made her.’

Richie is touched, but he also can’t take credit for something he has nothing to do with.

‘It was all your daughter ma’am, she’s a natural.’ Eddie presses a kiss to his cheek, conveying what he’s not saying out loud; ‘I’m proud of you.’

‘Are you always like this?’ Myra inquirers curt, her face stuck in a permanent sneer. Eddie tenses beside him, but he won’t allow her to ruin the afternoon before they have even seen the person they came for.

‘What do you mean Sonia?’

‘My name is Myra.’

‘Same difference. Am I always this awesome and funny and caring towards others?’ He’s not being serious, but to Myra that doesn’t matter. She opens her mouth to say something else, but Richie has already turned his back sideways to here, his entire being focused on Eddie when the latter taps on his arm.

Eddie is staring at the stage however, and when Richie follows his gaze, he sees why. It’s now Matt’s turn, the boy scorching over every head in room, until he finally spots Eddie, Richie and Myra and grins from ear to ear.

He never told Eddie nor Richie what his act would be about, saying that it was supposed to be a surprise, so Richie has no idea what to expect.

His clothes, a yellow t-shirt with a cat on it, and blue jeans that look a bit to dirty to be knew does not seem like something Myra would have let him wear. If anything, Richie was expecting to see  him in something not unlike a suit.

His suspicion is conformed when he hears Myra complain next to him. ‘That’s not what I dressed him in.’

‘Hi, my name is Matt, and today I’m going to be telling you a bunch of jokes my pops taught me.’

Even though Richie will adamantly deny it, and Eddie will confirm it to anyone who asks, Richie starts crying.

He hasn’t even heard any of the jokes, but he already loves them and he loves him.

‘Jean goes on a walk with grandma in the park’, Matt begins his story, ‘and on the way back from the park, he sees a banana peel. When he goes to pick it up, his grandma tells him that he can’t do that, because everything that’s on the ground is dirty and he shouldn’t touch it. Two days later, Jean and his grandma go back to the park, and his grandma trips over the banana peel. When jean’s grandma asks him to help her up, Jean says that he can’t do that, because everything that’s on the ground is dirty, and he can’t touch it.

It’s not even that funny, but Richie loses his shit regardless. The laughter pours out of him relentlessly, making him shake from trying to hold it in.

When Matt thanks the audience for listening, indicating that his act has come to an end, Richie still can’t stop cackling. Eddie is in the same state as him, holding his stomach like it’s hurting and actual tears stream down his cheeks. They’re a stark contrast to Myra, who’s sour look has only worsened, and is just clapping politely like the rest of the parents.

Matt has never been prouder of himself, bowing once and then waving while he gets of the stage, just like Richie does.

When he gets himself under control, a few children later, Myra is has yet to stop her dead glare which is pointed his way.

‘Pops? He calls you that? You are not his father, you’re nothing but filth that has corrupted my Eddie bear and my son. A boy should spend more time with his mother, not with a confused father he thinks his’, she chokes over the words. ‘gay.’

Richie is stricken, hurt despite him knowing that that is just the person Myra is. A hurt emotion that he tries to keep under wraps at all times peaks it’s head up from the darkest part of his soul, but before it has any chance to come up and out, his head is turned, and Eddie connects their lips.

It’s a bit messy, Eddie having knocked his lips on the first area he could find, causing the kiss to be a little off balance, while he brushes at the nap of Richie’s neck. Richie replies by setting his arm on top of Eddie thigh, not high, just above the knee.

They’re in the same position as they were in when they shared their first kiss, and it makes Richie a little dizzy with love and devotion.

Eddie pulls back first, chuckling when he sees the hazy look Richie’s eyes have, and then steels his expression to address Myra.

‘I’m not confused. I’m gay, and yes Matt calls Richie pops, because he wants too, not because we asked him too. Why don’t you wake up Myra? Neither Richie not I are trying to replace you. You’re his mom, no one can do that, but if you continue to be disregard him, he might not be as friendly in the future.’

Then, Eddie stands, pulling Richie up with him, who still dreamily is unaware off what’s happening, his brain not being up to speed yet.

‘Come on Dickwad, pull you head out of your ass, we’ll wait outside until Matt comes.’

He shifts his gaze to Myra; ‘I’ll see you in two weeks.’

Outside, Richie laughs breathlessly. ‘I can’t believe you just did that in front of all these people.’

It’s still insanely warm, but it gets ever warmer when Eddie leans up, and presses his forehead to Richie’s.

Suddenly, Richie is transported back to many summers ago, when Eddie and him were still kids and they had yet to confess their feeling for one another. They shared a moment like that one too, where it was so hot yet they still huddled together.

Richie had thought then that that would be the peak of his life, smelling the scent of warm water and grass, and Eddie colon that stuck to every piece of clothes item he was wearing.

He was wrong, adding Matt to the equation, made it only better.

They must have been there for a long time, but Richie was unaware of that, until he heard Matt call out to them.

‘Dad, Pops, I missed you.’

He leaps into Eddie’s awaiting arms, just small enough for Eddie be able pick him up, while Richie envelops both of them in his arms.

‘We missed you too bud.’ We’ve missed you our entire lives.