#music teacher eddie munson

[fuctacles]

So i made that post some time ago...

Maxine was nearing the rebellious teenage years Steve was so scared of. She was already a feisty kid when he met her all these years ago, slingshotting cans off tree branches and fighting with her brother, and she made no sign of stopping. She was a savage on a skateboard, crashed other kids in arcade games and looked up to strong female role models, like Wonder Woman. Steve was happy to call her his daughter. Even if she hated it.

She liked to spend time actively, so he wasn’t surprised when she got into sports. It was a thing they could bond over. Recently, though, all she could talk about was music. She was pestering him about getting her a guitar, and he was slowly warming up to the idea. Robin, of course, was encouraging it.

He already took her to a music store, grabbing a couple of cassettes that made him dread the worst. She picked some rock bands and while Steve didn’t want to play on these stereotypes, he wasn’t thrilled to think she may become one of these brooding alternative kids dressed in black. She was feisty, but she was a radiating sun that he would rather keep burning than get shrouded by dark clouds.

And so when he heard the door slam loudly, he sighed softly, recognising an end of an era when he heard it.

Max stomped into the kitchen, fuming.

“They are cutting down the art department funds,” she said without prompting, her bag dropped unceremoniously on the floor.

That was not what he was expecting.

“What?” he frowned, watching her open the fridge and grab a box of chocolate milk. She angrily stabbed it with the straw.

“Exactly! They are transforming the practice room into a gym, and Mr Eddie had to move all the instruments into his class and the drama club.”

And there it was. The famous Mr Eddie. He was the reason Max took a sudden interest in music, and apparently, now the reason she was so furious about school funding injustice. Steve sighed.

“Unfortunately, the school thinks liberal arts aren’t as important as sports.”

Max’s eyes narrowed as she studied him. Her gaze slid down to his ancient swimming team hoodie.

“But you don’t think so?” Right?” Her eyes narrowed threateningly. Steve scoffed.

“I might have been a jock in high school, but my best friend plays in an orchestra. I think the funds should be divided equally.”

“Good,” Max drew out like she was content for now, but he wasn’t completely off the hook yet. She sat down in front of him, sipping from the milk box and studying him. “All the after-school practice has to be done at the drama club, which makes the schedule really tight. You know Mr Eddie used to give guitar lessons there? Now he’ll have to do house calls.”

“Mhm,” Steve nodded, eyeing her wearily. He flipped the page of the magazine he wasn’t reading. 

“Mr Eddie used to practice there with his band too.”

“Mhm.”

“Now he has nowhere to do so.”

“Poor guy.”

“He said he’s looking for a place to practice. Told us to ask our parents.”

“Max…”

“We have a big garage.” 

“Max.”

“Steve.”

He sighed.

“I’ll think about it. If he doesn’t find a better place, he can give me a call.”

Max let out a victorious whoop, but he held out his hand to stop her.

“Max, I’m serious. Only as a last option.”

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes.

And so, about a week later, Steve was picking up his phone to an unfamiliar voice.

“Mr Harrington? I’m Eddie Munson, Max’s music teacher. She told me you have some garage space I could borrow?”

Steve looked at the ceiling, leaning against the wall.

“Did she say it was only a last resort thing?”

The man on the other side chuckled.

“Oh, believe me, I wouldn’t be bothering one of my student’s parents if I had other options.”

“Okay. What do you need then?”

“I’ll take whatever you can give me, honestly. I’m kind of desperate,” the man sighed, and Steve felt a bit bad. The guy just wanted someplace to practice his craft.

“Okay, okay. So… I have a two-car garage space, but it’s only my car and I can park at the curb, you could have the whole space to yourself. I’m home most afternoons, so as long as you’re not too loud and give me a heads-up, any day works.”

“Hello?” he frowned when only silence answered him, but soon the man on the other side was laughing.

“Wow, you’re just as nice as Mad Max claimed.”

“She did? I thought I was, and I quote, ‘a raisin in her cereal’.”

The other man burst out laughing and Steve smiled.

“Ah, I’m not going to reveal her soft spots any further then.”

“Maybe I should show you the place before you commit? It might not be big enough for your needs.”

The man on the other side hummed in thought.

“Yeah, good thinking. Is today fine? I’m finishing in a couple of hours.”

“Sure. Do you have something to write, I’ll give you the address.”

Three hours later, the doorbell rang and Steve wiped his hands on the towel to open the door.

Eddie Munson was nothing that he expected from a music teacher, but after a second thought was what he should have expected from a music teacher who Max said was cool.

“Eddie Munson,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand full of chunky metal rings.

“Steve Harrington,” Steve shook it, the fingers unexpectedly rough against his skin.

The guy was of a smaller build than him, on par with his profession. His long hair was tied back, revealing a row of silver earrings. He was wearing a band tee and a leather jacket. He didn’t look like a teacher at all.

Steve motioned him inside.

“Come on, I’ll show you the garage.”

“It’s not in the basement, right? Should I be worried?”

Steve gave him a puzzled look.

“You know, leading a stranger to your basement to never be heard of again?” Munson explained.

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, maybe not with the hawks I have for neighbours. Probably half the street knows I have a guest by now. So I better let you out at some point.”

“Some of these suburban moms should really get a job, huh?”

“They should, yeah.” Steve nodded, leading him through the kitchen to a plain side door. he opened it and flipped a switch. “Soo, that’s it. Would that work for you?”

The teacher stepped in, passing by Steve to look around. The garage was big, made for two cars, with only Steve’s Beamer taking up half the space. Besides some spare tires and boxes of Christmas decorations, there was nothing else inside. 

The man spread his arms, spinning around. Steve let out a surprised snort. The guy was probably his age and a teacher on top of that.

“That would be great, Mr Harrington! Are you sure about that? Like, sure-sure?” He stood in front of him, and Steve’s mind has already been set, even without the hope glistening in the man’s eyes.

“I’m a man of my word,” he nodded.

Munson swayed on his heels.

“We play metal, though? Might not be your thing.” He smiled weakly, like he was expecting a rejection. Steve frowned at him.

“If they let you do it in school, I think my garage will be fine. I have headphones, too.”

Munson beamed at him, dimples at all. And it was like a punch in the gut, a feeling he hadn’t felt since Max’s brother.

“Thank you.”

“No problem,” he nodded stiffly, blinded by the soft metalhead in front of him. What did Max get him into?

Speak of the devil, there was a distant slam of the front door from the inside of the house. Steve winced.

“Want me to let you out this way,” he pointed to the garage door. “She won’t let you go that easy.”

Mr Munson only laughed. 

“It’s not a problem. Mad Max is one of my favourite students.”

“I thought teachers aren’t supposed to play favourites?”

“I’m not the teacherest out there, truth be told.”

Steve eyed his ripped jeans.

“I can see that.”

He led them back to the kitchen, where Max was hidden head-first in the fridge. She leaned back when she heard the steps, and her eyes widened at the sight of two men.

“Mr Eddie!” She slammed the fridge close, and Steve winced as he heard the bottles inside rattle against one another. “You’ll be using our garage?”

“Seems so, kiddo.”

Max made a victorious fist pump.

“Mike’s gonna be so jealous!”

Munson let out a startled laugh, while Steve scrunched his nose. 

“Don’t tell that’s all this is about. I thought we were doing something nice for Mr Munson.”

“We are, we are!” she placated him quickly, waving her hands. “Pissing off Mike is just a bonus. A very nice bonus.” She grinned sweetly.

“You’re, um…” Steve looked to the side to see the man scratching his cheek awkwardly. “The only parent who agreed. Most of them don’t trust me because I play metal.”

“Steve isn’t like that!” Max reassured quickly. “He’s not a judgmental bigot!”

Steve gawked at her choice of words while Munson laughed.

“A judgmental bigot wouldn’t raise such a great kid.”

“Duh.” Max beamed and Steve warmed all over. 

Being a single father was frowned upon even without their backstory. And Max’s attitude usually fuelled negative comments about his parenting. So it was nice to hear something good for a change. Maybe Steve could even make a new friend in this shitty town.

The teacher stayed for a coffee and insisted on being called Eddie. Steve found out he and his band had a show in a few weeks and were planning a small tour across the state over the upcoming break. But most of the visit was just him listening to Max and her teacher talking about bands he had no idea about. 

“I’ll tell the boys, and we could come over on Thursday? If that’s okay,” Eddie cocked his head as they led him to the door. 

“Sure. Works for me.”

“Sweet,” Eddie smiled, and again it did something pleasant to Steve’s heart. “See you tomorrow then, Red.” He fist-bumped the girl. “And you, Steve,” he raised his fist towards him. It took Steve a second to react and knock it with his own, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. He waved at them, and soon Steve was watching a ratty black van speed away from his curb.

“I told you he was cool!”

“Uh-huh.” Steve closed the door. “You did.”

[funnylittlelad]

Shelter From The Storm - Steddie

Page Six

<< Page Five | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Seven>>

summary: “Who are you?” Jack’s voice questions with mild irritation.

“Go wait for Eddie in the bedroom, sweetheart,” Wayne’s voice says gently.

“And who is this cute little thing? Why didn’t you tell me I’m a grandpa, Wayne?”

That voice makes Eddie’s blood run cold. His heart slams to a standstill, but the rest of him is on the move. He barges into the trailer, nostrils flaring. His stomach is sent roiling as he makes eye contact with a man around Wayne's age, just with more hair and meaner eyes. His face is rounder, but the relation is still clear.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie demands.

Jack darts to cling to Eddie’s legs. He instinctively places her behind him, never taking his eyes off the asshole in front of him.

“C’mon, Ed, it's the holiday. You can't even give your old man a simple hello?” He grins sharply.

wc: 11.2k

series tags/notes: Steddie Dadfic, single dad!Steve Harrington, Music Teacher!Eddie Munson, girl dad Steve, Jewish Eddie, Steve's parents are The Worst, mentions/talks about past abuse, complicated family dynamics, pretty Steve-centric, implied past suicide, talks about illness and death, Fluff, angst, mutual pining, slow burn.

page warnings: depictions of violence and references to past child abuse

The move won't happen until around Jack’s seventh birthday. That's what they decided. Steve wants to make sure Jack can sleep in her own room before making any big changes. It’s not an easy adjustment when they're at Eddie’s. The first time Steve told her no to her climbing in bed with them he thought he might cry just as hard as she did. It doesn't get much easier from there. She always tries and he always says no. 

“God, I fucking hate this,” Eddie breathes one night.

The wind howls outside the windows as snow coats everything. They're on their backs lying awake in bed listening to Jack’s cries in the other room. 

“I know, me too,” Steve sighs.

“Does this get any easier?”

Tired and a touch irritated from the overstimulation of constant cries, Steve jumps to the worst conclusion.

“What? Being a parent? I hate to break it to you, Eds, but it's hard and it always will be. If that's not something you're sure you want-”

“I’m sure. I know I want this,” Eddie states without hesitation.

A smile crawls onto Steve’s face in the dark at Eddie’s words. They comfort Steve immensely. It's easy to slip into insecurity still. 

“What do you want her to call you?” He asks quietly, hoping a change in topics will be enough to distract them.

“What d'you mean?” 

“Do you want to be dad or just Eddie ?” 

Eddie stares into the dark for a moment. It’s not something he’s really thought about. He knows he wants to be Jack’s dad. He wants to be seen as Jack’s dad. He wants Jack to see him as her dad. 

“I think… I want to be dad , i-if that's okay,” he answers.

Steve turns onto his side. He wraps a warm heavy arm around Eddie’s torso.

“That's more than okay. I want you to be dad too,” he tells him. 

Eddie smiles as he turns in Steve's hold. This way they can bury their faces in each other’s necks. Jack’s cries soon fade out allowing for sleep to edge in. They fall asleep breathing in each other’s scents. The next morning Eddie wakes up first. He makes sure Jack doesn't sleep in too late and takes care of her morning routine. She seems over the betrayal of leaving her alone in the room, much to Eddie’s relief.

Jack and Eddie enjoy their morning together. It's always a nice snapshot of what's to come. Plus, Steve can be grumpy in the morning which in turn makes Jack grumpy. Eddie never gives her a chance to get grumpy. He wakes her with tickles, dinosaur soup already made and steaming for her on the table. He’s even taken to making some for himself. Some mornings she asks to play the guitar, others she just wants to curl up on the couch and watch cartoons. This is a guitar kind of morning.

Steve comes out while Jack is strumming away on Eddie’s six-string. Eddie himself is doing the dishes from breakfast. Jack beams at Steve but doesn't cease her playing. He plants a kiss on the top of her head before moving on to the kitchen. When Eddie comes into view Steve slows and tries to be quiet.

“There’s coffee in the pot,” Eddie says before Steve can surprise him.

“How’d you know I was here?” Steve whines playfully as he gets himself a mug.

“Jack changed what she was playing,” Eddie turns and gives him a quick kiss, “This one’s your song. Last one was mine.”

“What?” Steve’s brows furrow as he pours his coffee.

“Kinda like a theme song,” Eddie shrugs.

“She has one for both of us?” 

“I think she has one for everyone. It’s something I started noticing a few weeks ago.”

Steve pauses and just listens. The sound of the running water dies as Eddie finishes the dishes. Soon all Steve can hear is the strumming of a light and airy song. It’s steady, rhythmic, and comforting. Jack’s song for Steve is the kind of song you could put on as you read by a crackling fire on a freezing winter day. 

“Yours is my favorite one,” Eddie comments with a smile.

“She’s amazing,” Steve breathes in wonder.

No matter what, Jack always manages to make these moments. Moments where she knocks him into a stupor with how smart and sweet she is. Moments where Steve is sure she’s the most talented kid on the planet. Moments when he's just absolutely astounded by how amazing his daughter is.

“You’re telling me. She's a few months away from playing circles around me. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Eddie chuckles.

The song changes to something quicker, a little more lively, and erratic. Steve realizes it's what Jack was playing when he first came out. It’s her song for Eddie. He watches Eddie’s face melt into something drowning in affection as the song change hits him.

“Let me take you on a date. Like a real one, just us. We can go out somewhere for food, maybe catch a movie,” Steve suggests.

Eddie beams at him.

“Pick me up at six?”

“Let's make it five so that way we can drop Jack off together. I’ll start asking around for a sitter,” Steve smiles brightly.

His heart is fluttering at the prospect of taking Eddie on a real bonafide date. They've never truly been together without Jack. She’s always there either playing, sleeping, or practicing music. It’s something they both love, but to have time with only each other? That’s a precious commodity that won't ever come often enough.

“I’m sure Wayne will be up for it,” Eddie says.

“Are you sure? I was going to ask Rob. I know she’s off tonight,” Steve furrows his brows.

Eddie steps up to him, closing any space that may have remained. One hand rests on the base of Steve’s neck where it meets his shoulder, warming him through his shirt. His free hand finds Steve’s eyebrows. Once there, his thumb gently smooths out the wrinkle between them and eases the frequent scrunching of Steve’s eyebrows. A small smile crawls onto Steve’s lips as he relaxes his face under Eddie’s touch.

“You can ask whoever you want, but I just wanted to remind you that Wayne is there too. We’re kind of a package deal,” Eddie scrunches his own face in a dramatic display of his seriousness in the most unserious way possible.

“She does seem to like him.”

“The Munson charm is hard to beat.” 

“Ain't that the truth,” Steve huffs a wry laugh.

“You’re just mad it seems to be especially strong against Harringtons,” Eddie teases.

The hand that smoothed Steve’s eyebrows rakes through Steve’s soft hair. Steve closes his eyes at the sensation, just enjoying it. He hums in subtle agreement with Eddie’s words. The Munson charm does seem to work on the Harringtons just a bit more than anyone else. 

They end up dropping Jack off with Robin around five. Mostly because she offers, really she insists , on making it a sleepover with Jack. Jack is elated at the idea, forgetting entirely that Eddie and Steve would be off together without her. It was a sore subject when they brought it up to her. 

Neither of them dresses especially nicely. They opt for Benny’s over the more expensive and fancier option across town, Enzo’s. Expensive and fancy don't feel like them. Perhaps it would have felt like Steve at one point, but certainly not anymore. Burgers and beers at Benny’s, however, definitely do. The laid-back environment allows them to be relaxed and not as nervous as they could be. Although, Steve is definitely still visibly nervous. He fidgets with his fingers on the table and anxiously glances between Eddie and the drink before him.

“You going shy on me, Stevie?” Eddie prods playfully, nudging Steve's sneaker with his boot under the table.

“I- uh- I haven't been on a date since before Jack was born,” Steve admits with a small dry chuckle. 

Eddie laughs, to Steve’s dismay. When Steve’s face drops, Eddie quickly reassured him.

“I’ve actually never been on a real date,” Eddie tells him with a goofy smile.

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Eddie shrugs, “people weren't fighting to go out with me in high school. Besides, if any girls had a crush on me it wouldn’t have mattered. I’m not exactly a ladies' man, y’know.”

Steve chews on that for a moment. He tentatively reaches across the small table and takes Eddie’s ringed hand into his own.

“Have you ever thought about what would be different if we started seeing each other in high school?” He asks with warm wondrous eyes.

Eddie frowns a bit and shakes his head.

“Honestly, I’m glad we didn't.”

“Why?”

“Well, we wouldn't have Jack, for one,” he raises his eyebrows at Steve.

Steve smiles and rolls his eyes.

“That’s a cop-out and you know it. Did… did you not like me back then?” The question comes out more insecure than Steve likes.

Eddie barks a laugh.

“I tried not to, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn't ogling at your ass in those light blue Levi's. It’s me I didn't like. Why d’you think I was always showing off so much?” He chuckles wryly.

“I dunno, I just thought you liked the attention. Why d'you think I never gave it to you?” Steve chuckles in return, blush burning across his face. 

“I was compensating. Everyone hates you long enough and you start to think maybe they have a point,” Eddie shrugs with a sad smile.

It breaks Steve’s heart to hear. He wishes he wasn't so caught up in himself in high school. He wishes he hadn't been too shallow to try to talk to Eddie. Eddie had been right, though. Then they wouldn't have Jack. Jack, who is the light of their life. Jack, who is the reason they’re even together in the first place. Without Jack, they never would have crossed paths again in such a meaningful way.

“I never hated you,” Steve tells him softly.

Eddie looks at him with wide coffee-brown eyes. A light dusting of color takes over his cheeks.

“Sure you did,” he says dismissively, “You were King Steve . We were natural enemies.”

“Yet, you were ogling my ass in my light blue Levi’s,” Steve arches a playful eyebrow.

“What can I say,” Eddie shrugs, “you’ve got a nice ass, Harrington.”

Eddie tilts the neck of his beer bottle toward Steve briefly before taking a swig. Steve chuckles as he takes a swig of his own. 

“I never hated you, Eds,” he states again, “Actually, it was the opposite.”

“You liked me?” Eddie scoffs in disbelief. 

“I respected you at the very least. You were the only one that didn't treat Sarah like a pariah. I did what I could, but no one listened to me. You were the only person I never had to defend her against,” Steve explains.

“Yeah, people were dicks. She sat with us during lunch the last couple of months, but she wouldn't talk about anything too much. I remember…” Eddie trails off and then bursts out laughing.

“What?” Steve laughs.

“I remember telling her the kid was an honorary Hellfire member. Guess I was more right than I realized,” he says.

Steve laughs harder, shaking his head. 

“I’m starting to think you were meant to be Jack’s dad.” 

 The comment comes so offhandedly, but it stops Eddie completely. He studies every crease in Steve’s face as he smiles. He lets the words sink deep into his chest, like talons into his heart. 

“You think so?” He asks a little breathlessly.

Steve seems to realize the weight of what he’s said to someone he’s only officially been dating for a little more than a month. His face falls into something insecure. He goes to pull his hand back, but Eddie holds on tighter when he tries.

“I’m sorr-”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, Stevie. I like that you feel that way because… Well, I do too. I think I was always meant to be with you two in whatever way you’d let me. I’m just really fucking happy you’re letting me be with you this way,” Eddie informs him warmly with a squeeze of his hand.

“I’m really fucking happy too,” Steve says softly with a smile. 

They’re busy staring affectionately into each other’s eyes when Benny brings their food over. He places the plates in front of them but doesn't leave immediately. Instead, he clasps a hand on Steve’s shoulder and asks about Jack.

“She’s doing good. She’s been learning guitar and piano over at Eddie’s,” Steve nods toward the man in question.

Benny’s eyes skirt over their hands as they move to Eddie. It’s a relief to see a warm smile on his face. He nods cordially.

“Mordor Music, right? Just down the street?” 

“That’s me,” Eddie confirms with a smile of his own, “Honestly, I don't know how much I’m teaching her at this point. She was born knowing how to play, I swear.”

“I believe it. That kid’s smart as a whip,” Benny chuckles. 

“It helps that she’s got such a good dad,” Eddie says. 

Steve can feel the fire evident on his cheeks.

“She sure does,” Benny agrees with a squeeze of Steve’s shoulder.

He leaves them to eat after that, throwing an approving smile at Steve as he does. The rest of dinner goes about the same. They take turns teasing and embarrassing each other all in the name of love. Steve can't remember the last time he’s laughed this much with someone. Eddie can't remember the last time he felt at ease with someone. He’s usually a poorly hidden bundle of nervous energy looking to get out. 

Steve drives them back to Eddie’s. The guitar above his couch is missing. He allowed Jack to take it with her in a compromise for her cooperation. He had a serious talk with her about its importance. She nodded like a dutiful soldier, both hands around the neck of the guitar. Steve catches Eddie glancing at the empty space a couple of times as they take their shoes and coats off. 

“You really didn't have to let her take it,” Steve says as he places his well-kept white sneakers beside Eddie’s kicked-off scuffed boots.

“I trust her. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been away from it,” Eddie walks across the living room to the stereo that's placed in the television stand and begins fussing with the collection of tapes.

Steve follows until he’s in the middle of the room.

“Can I ask why Wayne seemed surprised you let her play it?” Steve asks cautiously.

Eddie pauses by the stereo. He sighs.

“It was my mom’s. It’s the only thing of her’s I have. My dad either destroyed or threw out everything else. I managed to save the guitar by getting Wayne to take it. A couple other smaller things,” he explains.

“Eds, she really doesn't have to play it. We can get her a guitar.”

“No, it’s okay. I like seeing her play it. It makes me feel a little closer to my mom.”

Steve swallows back tears. Eddie’s face is so soft and sincere. All Steve can do is nod. He’s too afraid of his voice wavering to speak. Eddie pops a tape in the stereo. As he makes his way over to Steve a familiar song starts to softly drift through the air. Eddie places his hands on Steve’s hips. Steve mindlessly throws his arms around Eddie’s neck, hands shamelessly playing with his hair.

“Madonna?” Steve questions quietly with a smile.

Eddie gets his own grin as he looks at Steve through hooded lids.

“Dustin may have mentioned something about you and Madonna,” he answers coyly.

They sway gently together like they're teenagers at prom. Eddie presses his forehead against Steve’s.

“You’re so pretty, Stevie,” he whispers.

For what seems like the millionth time that night, Steve blushes deep red. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not. You’ve got the prettiest face I’ve ever seen. Pretty brown eyes, pretty nose, and those pretty lips I never wanna stop kissing,” he drawls.

“Then kiss them, big boy.”

Eddie flashes a wolfish grin before ducking in to kiss Steve. Eddie kisses him with such fervor it lights every bit of Steve on fire. They move to Eddie’s bedroom, never daring to break apart. Steve starts pawing at Eddie’s shirt as they pass through the threshold. Eddie pauses then, pulling away just enough to look Steve in his lust-blown eyes.

“Are you sure?” He checks.

Madonna’s Crazy For You can still be heard through the open door.

“I’m sure,” Steve nods.

They’re kissing again furiously to make up for the lost moments they spent speaking. It doesn't take long for their clothes to pile onto the floor. Soon after that Madonna’s voice is drowned out by their own.

Eddie wakes up first in the morning, to no surprise. He doesn't leave bed this time, though. There’s no Jack to wake up to allow Steve to sleep in. There’s just the two of them, skin to skin, tangled together under his comforter. Steve’s face is pressed into Eddie’s chest as he breathes evenly. Eddie revels in the warmth of him. He revels in the glow of the night before. Nothing in his life has ever felt so right. 

He doesn't move until Steve stirs thirty minutes later. Steve blinks long lashes up at him with a sleep-dazed smile.

“G’mornin’,” he murmurs. 

Eddie’s heart soars at the image of him. 

“‘Mornin’, baby girl.”

Steve's face scrunches, the morning drowsiness dramatizing his expressions. 

“ Baby girl ?” He questions groggily.

“Yeah, I can’t help it when you look all soft and cute like that,” Eddie croons.

“But baby girl?”

“What, you don't like it?” Eddie pouts.

“I didn't say that.”

“So you do like it.”

Steve groans and buries his face in Eddie’s chest. A chuckle vibrates against Steve's forehead.

“C’mon, baby girl. We got a kid to go get.”

Steve groans again causing Eddie to full-on laugh. They spent another twenty minutes like that. Eddie ceaselessly calls Steve baby girl , flustering him to the fullest potential. He does it all the way up until Robin answers her door. When she does Eddie is grinning like a maniac while Steve is a blushing mess. A fluid, quick, frantic tune can be heard from further in her apartment.

“Fun night?” She smirks.

“Oh, you have no idea , Buckley,” Eddie says.

Steve elbows him lightly. Robin just laughs and steps aside so they can enter. Jack strums away at the guitar on the couch. She’s still in her pajamas. When she notices Steve and Eddie her strumming ceases. She places the guitar on the couch next to her with the utmost care before bounding over to them. They sandwich her in a hug and she wastes no time gushing about her girls' night with Auntie Rob. 

“Can we have another girls' night soon?” She asks the three of them.

Robin shoots them a smirk.

“We sure can, menace,” she answers.

Steve’s mother shows up at Roann County Community College a few weeks before Christmas. He’s changing the garbage in a classroom on a perfectly boring Wednesday. His breath halts when he notices his mother standing in the doorway. She’s as manicured as usual. Her hands are clasped in front of her as she gives him an indiscernible look.

“Steven,” she says gently.

“Mom, what are you doing here?” He asks bluntly.

“I… Well, I don't know where you live and I need to speak with you,” she sighs.

“Okay… Just, close the door.”

She nods and does as he says. Steve leans back on the desk at the front of the room and crosses his arms. His mother’s heels click as they make their way closer to him. She stops five feet away.

“I know I haven't been a perfect parent. There are many things I wish I fought harder, but your father… The point is, I’m sorry, Steven. I know that no apology from me could ever be enough after everything I let him get away with, but I’m not letting him get away with anything anymore. I know it's too late, but it’s the least I can do,” she tells him, holding back her nerves. 

Steve watches her with wide eyes. A lump sits firmly in his throat. Here his mother is, standing before him in an attempt to assuage her guilt for being useless in everything.

“What are you saying exactly?” He asks hoarsely.

“I’m giving you and Jack an inheritance. I’m selling the house. You’ll be getting fifty thousand each,” she states.

Steve’s knees go weak, but the desk saves him from wobbling. His arms uncross to allow his hands to grip the edge of the fake wood. A hundred thousand dollars. More money than Steve ever hoped to see in his life once he was on his own. 

“What’s the catch?” 

“There is none. You don't even have to speak to me ever again if you don't want to. I would like to leave you my new phone number, though. For if you ever find yourself wanting to use it,” she explains, voice growing ever softer. 

Steve rubs the corners of his mouth with one hand as the other grips the edge of the desk. His heart pounds in his ears. None of this feels real. He stares his mother in her eyes which look too much like his. She places a neatly folded piece of paper on the desk next to her. He truly thought for sure he would never hear from her again after the funeral. Is this a trick? A game?

“I’m with Eddie. Jack and I are going to move in with him. No amount of money is going to change that,” he tells her firmly. 

“I don't expect it to. Jack has two parents who clearly love her. I don’t want to take that from her. I’m… I really am happy for you, Steven. I’ll mail you the check when it comes in,” she answers. 

Steve nods as he takes it all in. Somehow he feels so very heavy and so completely light. 

“Th- thank you,” he croaks.

She gives him one last smile before leaving. Steve stays where he is for a few more minutes trying to regain his composure. Once he does, he continues his shift trying his best not to think too hard. Any time he did his heart would start racing in his throat again. By the time he gets off his head is spinning. Jack is with Grandma Buck today, but Steve goes straight to Mordor Music. 

When he walks in Eddie is checking out some teenagers with a stack of records. He makes recommendations based on what they have picked out. The kids say something that makes him laugh, showing off a beautiful smile that Steve can't get enough of. Today Eddie has his hair up in a sloppy bun, his nail polish is chipped, and he wears Steve’s work coat over a plain black sweater. It fills Steve with a buzzing happiness in his gut.

The kids bid Eddie goodbye. They seem to be regulars. As they pass Steve, Eddie’s eyes find him. A bright smile takes over his face but falters when he really takes him in.

“What’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he says, coming out from behind the counter. 

Steve meets him halfway with a hug. It’s tight, but brief because Eddie won't let him get away with the distraction for that long. He holds Steve by his upper arms and studies his face.

“My mom stopped by the college today,” Steve sighs.

“What the fuck did she want?” Eddie scoffs.

“She’s giving us an inheritance. She… she’s giving us a hundred grand.”

Eddie blinks at Steve for a moment with wide eyes. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes.

“Yeah,” Steve agrees.

“Holy shit,” Eddie shakes him a little bit.

“I know,” he chuckles.

“Are you on your way to get Jack?”

Steve nods.

“What d'you say you two come over for dinner later?”

“We’ll be there.”

They spend a lot of dinners together, but Eddie is especially excited about this one. It's not done by any means, but he’s started making the guest room into Jack’s room. He plans to do more, but he thinks there's enough to make the nights alone there easier. To make it feel like home for her. 

After dinner that night he makes a big deal out of the reveal. He makes Steve give him a drumroll on the wall. Jack swings open the door and gasps. It looks mostly the same, but the bedspread is dotted with stars like hers at home. The posters around the bed are gone. They’ve been replaced by shiny black bat decals that swarm across the wall. They’re positioned in such a way that they really resembled the bats from the Scooby Doo Where Are You? opening. 

Jack bounces up to her bed and climbs up to stand on it. She points excitedly at the bats and beams at them.

“Daddy, look! Bats like mine!” 

“Those bats are yours, sweet girl,” Eddie tells her.

Her inky eyes go huge. 

“They are?”

“Yeah, when you’re here this is your room. Those little guys are yours,” he smiles.

Jack falls back onto the bed absolutely giddy. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie from behind, placing his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s hands clasp over Steve’s on his stomach. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispers into Eddie’s ear.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” Eddie whispers back.

“There’s everything to thank you for.”

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheekbone, chaste and sweet. Then he’s tackling Jack into the bed and tickles her until she’s giggling like mad. Eddie watches on with a fond smile, loving every bit of this. He loves these two Harringtons with every fiber of his being and he plans to tack Munson onto their last names one day.

The piano contest is in February. They have until January fifteenth to sign Jack up, but they needed a song. Picking a song turns out to be much harder than they expect. Every suggestion Jack shakes her head no to. When they ask what she wants to play she just shrugs. She’s taken to searching the store for any albums that pique her interest and even Eddie’s own collection at home. Nothing has grabbed her yet. When asked what she's looking for in a song she struggles to form the words. She just says all the ones she's found or has been offered to her are too easy, which means they're boring . 

Then Jack finds it. There’s an old milk crate in Eddie’s closet with a few frayed album sleeves. She drags the crate out into the living room where Steve and Eddie are too engrossed in Scooby Doo to notice her brief disappearance. The movement draws their attention, though. Eddie looks a little panicked whereas Steve looks confused.

“I found your secret music,” she tells Eddie with a toothy grin.

“Yeah, you sure did,” he chuckles nervously.

“Secret music?” Steve asks.

“I keep it at the back of my closet. They're my mom’s favorite records. Not her original ones, but the first presses I’ve come across,” he explains.

Steve spends a minute scolding Jack for invading Eddie’s privacy. She apologizes and Eddie forgives her. Although, he was never really mad, to begin with. More like concerned for the health and safety of those records. He answers all her questions about them including which songs were his mom’s favorites. Then she made him play them all. The three of them dance to Billy Joel in the living room, Jack giggling like crazy. By the end of the last album, they're all breathing heavily with giant smiles. Jack gestures for Steve to come closer so she can say something in his ear.

He does so curiously. She cups her hands around her mouth at his ear.

“Are you sure?” He asks.

She nods with a smile. Steve smiles over at Eddie.

“She picked out a song, but she wants it to be a surprise for you,” he says.

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A soft smile toys with the corners of his mouth. 

“A surprise for me?” 

“Yes! No watching me practice,” Jack wags a stern finger at him. 

He puts his hands up in surrender.

“I won't, I promise,” he assures her.

She seems satisfied with that. Steve honestly is a little bit nervous about her song choice. He knows she’s more than capable of playing circles around these kids, but she picked a doozy. It’s fast , and all over the place. It just sounds complicated to Steve. He can't imagine her tiny hands having an easy time playing it. He knows Jack does nothing but surprise him. So, he signs her up to play Falling of the Rain by Billy Joel. Eddie moves her keyboard at the store into an empty lesson room so she can practice in privacy when she’s there. 

As the holidays approach a conversation Eddie has yet to have with Steve looms over him. Steve automatically starts talking to Eddie about Christmas plans. At first, Eddie simply smiles and nods. It's never come up that he doesn't celebrate the same holidays as them. For Christmas, Steve agrees to let Eddie buy Jack one instrument. It actually tears him apart. On the one hand, he really wants to get her the guitar she’s eyed many times with the emerald green rosette. On the other hand, he wants her to be able to practice for the competition at home too so an electric piano makes more sense. He spends a few days agonizing over it before coming up with an idea.

“What if the store loans her an instrument?” Eddie suggests one night over the phone after Jack was sound asleep.

“Like what?” Steve questions suspiciously.

He’s been wary about Eddie and giving Jack instruments since the tambourine. Which he still has to bribe away from Jack some nights. 

“I've got a Casio just begging to be used. You can bring it back to the store after the competition. This way she can get in as much practice as possible,” Eddie pleads his case.

“And this is something music stores normally do for their students?” 

“I mean… There are usually a few more strings attached, but-”

“Eddie, I don't want her getting special treatment just because we’re dating,” Steve protests.

“I don't know if you’ve noticed, but Jack’s always gotten special treatment. It has nothing to do with you. It has to do with the fact that I know the kinds of kids she’s going to be up against in situations like this. In auditions for schools and shit- the real selective stuff that I know she can get. They’re all going to have way more money and resources,” Eddie says.

“You’ve said yourself that Jack can outplay any of those kids. She has the talent to earn her way.”

“Steve, I’m talking teachers that cost hundreds of thousands a year, top-of-the-line instruments, classical training . Even without all of that, Jack has more raw talent than any of them, but at the end of the day… it’s not all about that. Gareth's a great piano teacher, but he’s no Beethoven. Jack, well, she could be Beethoven. Why not give her every advantage we can along the way? Even with those advantages she’s going to be at a disadvantage, trust me,” Eddie’s voice is soft, but earnest in their delivery.

Steve stays quiet as he turns the words over in his head. He wishes it took longer for him to come to his decision.

“I know what you're doing,” he grumbles.

“What?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Manipulation is playing dirty, Munson,” he chides.

“Is it working, though?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs.

The next day Eddie is setting the Casio up in the corner of Steve’s tiny living room. He made sure she could use her headphones with it. Steve pouts the entire time. Until Eddie finishes and pulls him into a kiss. After that, Steve can't help smiling. 

“While I have you here, we should figure out how we’re doing Christmas. Wayne is always welcome to come-”

“Uh- actually, I was gonna talk to you about that,” Eddie interrupts awkwardly, the looming conversation finally arrives.

“Oh… Is everything okay?” Steve suddenly becomes very worried.

Eddie seems almost nervous and it does nothing to help ease Steve.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I've been meanin’ to invite you two over to Wayne’s this weekend,” Eddie clears his throat, “but I’ve been a little anxious.”

“Why?”

Steve cups Eddie’s face to make him look at him. There's an uncharacteristic insecurity there.

“Chanukah starts this weekend,” he informs Steve. 

Steve’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Okay.”

“It'd really mean a lot to have you guys there.”

Steve blinks a few times.

“To have us at Hanukkah…,” he echoes, missing the slight accent Eddie had in his own pronunciation. 

“Steve, I’m Jewish,” Eddie chuckles nervously.

“Oh, okay, so that makes figuring out Christmas a helluva lot easier,” Steve comments in relief. 

Eddie laughs heartily. 

“So, will you come?”

“Yeah, of course. You’ll probably have to do a lot of explaining, but I’d love that,” Steve smiles.

“I’m happy to explain anything you need.”

“Have you really been anxious to tell me that you’re Jewish?” Steve asks softly.

“People around here… they get weird about it. It’s half the reason me and Byers got it so bad in high school. He’s just lucky they're only half so they celebrate Christmas,” Eddie explains.

“Wait- Byers?”

“You’d be surprised how many of us there are,” Eddie chuckles.

“Sorry, I didn't mean-”

“No, no, it’s okay, really. I love you,” Eddie assures him.

“I love you too.”

Jack has an absolute blast her first two days of Chanukah at Wayne’s. Eddie shows her how to play Dreidel and even teaches her a couple of tunes in Hebrew and Yiddish. The Munsons are far from fully practicing, but they are ones for honoring family traditions. That means Eddie doesn't speak the languages, but there are some songs he remembers from childhood. Jack stuffs herself full of kugel and cookies. She’s snoozing by the time they get home each night. 

Monday brings the third night, but Steve gets recruited to work late. He’s tempted to say no, but the overtime would help with Christmas and the end of Chanukah coming up, which is when they agreed to give their gifts for the holiday. Eddie offers to pick her up from school and bring her to Wayne’s. Something Steve happily agrees to. He likes that Eddie is welcoming Jack into his life this way. He doesn't want to stop them from celebrating just because he's working. 

Jack sprints out of the school with a large toothy grin. She bounces right into Eddie’s arms. He scoops her up easily, throwing her teacher a curt smile. He’s picked Jack up a few times now, but he has a feeling her teacher isn't a fan of him. He holds her hand the whole way to the car but lets her get in and buckle herself. She gushes about the friend she made talking about Chanukah in class. Hearing her little accent brings a smile to Eddie’s face. 

When they enter the trailer, Jack throws herself into Wayne for a hug. He chuckles as he catches her. Just like the first two nights, Wayne holds Jack so she can light the Menorah. The last of the matches break clean in half and Wayne’s lighter dies. In order to save the day, Eddie makes a run to the nearby gas station. It takes him all of fifteen minutes. He gets matches and a lighter for good measure. 

There’s a truck next to Wayne's car. It’s an unfamiliar beige monstrosity in the spot Eddie normally parks in. Eddie parks on the other side of the trailer, eyeing the truck suspiciously. Something in his gut twists. Every step feels deliberate. Every crunch of the snow beneath his boots. Heavy-looking work boot prints lead from the truck to the front steps. He furrows his brows at them as he makes his way to the door. Muffled voices grow louder and clearer. 

“Who are you?” Jack’s voice questions with mild irritation. 

“Go wait for Eddie in the bedroom, sweetheart,” Wayne’s voice says gently.

“And who is this cute little thing? Why didn’t you tell me I’m a grandpa, Wayne?”

That voice makes Eddie’s blood run cold. His heart slams to a standstill, but the rest of him is on the move. He barges into the trailer, nostrils flaring. His stomach is sent roiling as he makes eye contact with a man around Wayne's age, just with more hair and meaner eyes. His face is rounder, but the relation is still clear.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie demands.

Jack darts to cling to Eddie’s legs. He instinctively places her behind him, never taking his eyes off the asshole in front of him. 

“C’mon, Ed, it's the holiday. You can't even give your old man a simple hello?” He grins sharply.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie repeats. 

“In all honesty, kid, I wasn't expecting you to be here. I definitely wasn't expecting her,” he jerks a chin at Jack.

She glares at him from around Eddie’s legs. Eddie softly tells her to go wait in the bedroom. She does so reluctantly.

“She yours?” His father asks.

“She’s none of your business. What do you want?” Eddie snaps. 

“Wayne, I need some help. I’m in a tight spot, but I swear -”

“We’re not doing this, Al. I don’t got nothin’ to give you,” Wayne interrupts.

“You seriously came here on a fucking holiday to ask for money? Jesus, you’re such a fucking leech,” Eddie seeths. 

Anger burns through his veins. Just the sight of his father has him feeling like a cornered wild animal. His hackles are raised, his ears are back, and his teeth are bared. There's only one thing on his mind and it’s keeping Jack as far the fuck away from him as possible. 

“You better watch how you talk to me, boy, I’m still your father,” he warns, pointing a finger at Eddie.

“Please, you’re not shit to me. We don't have anything for you so just go,” Eddie orders.

His father turns his attention back to Wayne who frowns sternly.

“Look, I’m in trouble, alright? Y’know I wouldn't come to you if it wasn't serious. I’m asking as your little brother here. I need help,” he pleads.

“You can't be fucking-” Eddie starts.

“How much?” Wayne sighs.

Eddie’s eyes snap to his uncle. Betrayal is written across his features.

“I need twelve hundred by noon tomorrow.”

“Twelve hundred? Al, what the hell did you get yourself into this time?” Wayne questions, rubbing his eyes.

“I made a bad bet with Roscoe and-”

“I thought you were done with that.”

“Are you gonna help me or not?”

“No,” Eddie interjects, “we’re not fucking helping you.”

“Ed,” Wayne sighs.

“ No ! Are you kidding me, Wayne? I've told you everything and you still help this asshole?” Eddie’s voice gets more shaky as it gets louder. 

He can hear the rush of his blood in his ears. He can feel his heart fighting to escape his chest. 

“Maybe you should go, Al,” Wayne suggests.

Eddie’s father steps up into his space. He tries to intimidate Eddie, tries to make him feel small like he used to. Eddie stands tall. Four inches taller than Al now. He stares at his father down his nose, breathing heavily. They stand off like dogs waiting for the other to make the first move.

“You oughta go wait with the little girl and let the adults speak,” his father drawls.

“The adults are speaking and they’re telling you to get the hell out of here,” Eddie retorts hotly. 

“So, who’d you knock up, huh? Some poor girl from a nice family that's stuck here with you now?” His father questions.

“Fuck you,” Eddie spits back, anger burning his chest.

“You think you're so much better than me, but you’re not,” his father pokes his chest, “you’re just like me.”

“I’m nothing like you,” Eddie scoffs.

Both of them are getting increasingly louder. Wayne tries to get them to lower their voices but to no avail.

“Sure you are. Saddled with a kid you never wanted all because you couldn't keep it in your pants.”

Eddie grabs hold of the front of his father’s shirt. He shoves him back into the wall so hard everything hanging shakes. Wayne shouts out, but Eddie can't hear him. Eddie can only hear the furious beat of his heart.

“You shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you,” he hisses.

His father flashes a shit-eating grin and Eddie knows. Eddie knows he’s giving him exactly what he wants. He’s proving his father right, but he can't let go. Not when he’s talking about Jack like that. Not when every drop of fear from childhood has come rushing back, but wrapped up in the intense need to protect Jack. Not when Akl Munson is trying to convince him that they're anything alike.

“Eddie, let him go. He ain't worth this, think of Jack,” Wayne's hand finds Eddie’s shoulder.

He relaxes a minuscule amount under the weight. Eddie allows Wayne to pull him back, letting go of his father. He lets out a steady breath as he turns to face his uncle with apologetic eyes. He calms himself by thinking of Jack in Wayne's bedroom listening to all of this in confusion. 

“Yeah, think of your bastard in the other room,” his father sneers.

Something breaks in Eddie. He swears he hears the snap , like the sound of a twig being stepped on in a quiet forest. His vision goes red. Before he knows it, his fist is connecting with his father’s face. He can vaguely hear Wayne shouting. It isn't until Jack’s voice rings out on the third punch that he’s pulled out of it.

“Eddie?” She cries.

He whips around. There’s a small trickle of blood on his knuckles. His father holds his nose behind him. The only thing Eddie is focused on is Jack's small red fearful face. Tears stream down her round cheeks.

“Hey, sweet girl, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay. I’m so sorry I scared you,” he coos softly, dropping to his knees in front of her. 

When he reaches for her, she flinches away and his heart rips in half. The entire world feels like it's crashing down around him. 

“What’s going on?” She asks tearfully.

“I’ll explain when we get home, alright? I’m gonna get you home and we can watch Leia. How’s that sound?” He offers with big eyes, pleading for her to be okay.

She nods shakily. Eddie presses a kiss on her forehead. Once his lips meet the warm skin of her forehead, the back of Eddie’s collar gets yanked. He chokes, letting out a strangled sound, as he’s dragged backward. Jack screams, shrill and terrified. Eddie’s instinct is to get back to her. He resists the force by trying to go forward. A fistful of his hair gets yanked on next. Eddie buckles under the pain.

Wayne quickly ushers Jack back into the bedroom. Eddie hears the door slam right as something hard hits the side of his head. There’s shouting all around him and throbbing deep in his skull. He manages to twist in his father’s hold and starts throwing more punches. Wayne tries to pull them apart, but Eddie’s father shoves him back. The force sends Wayne into the kitchen counter, eliciting a hiss of pain. It only makes Eddie fight back harder. His father just gets the upper hand when the flashing comes into view. Red and blue illuminate the inside of the trailer from the outside. 

The lights don't stop Al Munson from laying into his son on the floor of his brother’s trailer. Eddie wraps his hands around his father’s neck and squeezes, a last-ditch effort to get him off. He flips them so he’s over his father, still choking him. Every single blow, every single insult, every single terrible awful memory comes back at once. Eddie doesn't let go. He doesn't hear his name being called. He doesn't hear the sirens. He forgets about the lights. Everything goes fuzzy and fades out around him. Right now, Eddie is twelve years old trying to get his father to just stop . 

Firm arms wrap around him and pull him back. They pin his arms to his sides as he struggles for a moment against the hold. 

“Eddie, it’s alright, it's alright. Just calm down,” Hopper’s voice breaks through the fog. 

Eddie melts when he registers the arms around him as Hopper’s. Tears immediately begin pouring down his face as everything hits him. Reality snaps back into place all at once. His father is bloody, but standing and being helped onto the couch by two other cops. Wayne is nowhere in sight. Eddie assumes he’s with Jack. Hopper has Eddie in a tight grasp, but not a crushing one.

“I’m sorry- Hopper, I’m so fucking sorry,” he chokes out.

“I know, kid,” Hopper sighs.

“Jack- is she okay?”

Hopper loosens his hold, allowing Eddie to step out of it and face him. He wears a steely expression, but the target of his gaze isn't Eddie. It’s Eddie’s father who sits and tells Callahan whatever bullshit he’s coming up with. 

“Yeah, she’s okay. She’s the one that called.”

“Steve?” Eddie asks brokenly.

“He’s on his way over here now.”

Eddie runs his hands over his face as he collects himself. He feels so frantic, fractured, and everywhere all at once. Mostly, he feels so fucking guilty. 

“Let’s head outside. You can have a smoke and tell me what happened,” Hopper says, placing a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

Eddie simply nods. The cold December air helps to sharpen his thoughts and senses. The nicotine helps soothe the shaking in his hands. He recounts everything to Hopper. Hopper writes it all down, nodding to indicate he’s listening. When Eddie finishes, Hopper tells Callahan to cuff Al Munson and take him in for trespassing and assault. 

Steve is stepping out of his BMW as Al is being shoved into the back of a police car. The still flashing red and blue lights highlight the angles of his face as he stares at Eddie across the yard. His mouth is tugged into a frown. His eyebrows are set into a line. There are no sounds around them as they just stand there with their eyes connected.

“Daddy! ” Jack’s voice rings out, punching a hole through the silence that allows all the other noise to come flooding through with it.

Eddie watches Steve squat to catch Jack. They hug each other so tight it sends a painful pang through his chest. Steve buries his face in Jack’s hair. Eddie can tell he’s saying something to her, but not what. Then Jack is squirming out of Steve’s grasp. Her big dark eyes bounce around until they find Eddie. A big relieved smile spreads across her face. It's difficult to tell whether she calls out Eddie or Daddy over all the noise. Either way, Eddie’s stomach flips. She darts to him. He catches her just like Steve did, burying his own face into her hair.

“Are you okay, sweet girl?” He asks.

“I’m okay. I was brave. Are you okay?” She places her hands on either side of his face to look at him. 

“I’m okay. Don't worry about me.”

“I was scared you were hurt,” she admits quietly.

“I know, baby. I’m okay, though. I promise.”

“Eddie?” Steve’s voice says softly from far closer than he was expecting.

His wide eyes find Steve’s worried ones. Eddie lets Jack down gently, eyes never leaving Steve. A heavy weight sinks in his gut. Steve must hate him. He’s absolutely certain Steve will want nothing to do with him after tonight. How could he blame him? Steve steps closer, eyes studying Eddie’s sore face. His cheeks and jaw are beginning to ache. There’s sure to be some bruises soon. He opens his mouth to say something- anything  but never gets the chance.

Steve pulls him into a tight hug. Eddie’s instantly wrapped around him and lost himself in the embrace. The relief is tangible from both of them. More tears fall from Eddie’s eyes.

“You’re okay?” Steve checks shakily.

“I’m okay,” Eddie confirms.

Jack tugs at Eddie’s pant leg. She gestures to be picked up when he looks down. With a smile, he obliges. Jack attaches herself to Eddie, resting her cheek on his shoulder. The three of them say goodbye to Hopper and Wayne. They leave Eddie’s car there, resigned to get it in the morning. That night Jack is allowed to sleep in the same bed as them. That night they hold onto each other extra tight. 

Eddie wakes up alone. At first, there’s an ache in his heart to rival that in his face. Then, he hears movement in the kitchen as he goes to the bathroom. It’s enough to relax him. He hasn't been abandoned. Steve is still here. He isn't alone, not really. The reflection in the mirror has a swollen jaw, a bruised cheekbone, and a busted lip. He thinks the last time his reflection looked this bad he was in high school.

When he exits the bathroom Steve is sitting on the couch. His elbows rest on his knees, propping him up as he leans forward on them. His eyes meet Eddie’s as he hears the bathroom door. A small reassuring smile crawls onto his lips. There’s a glass of water, two white pills, and an ice pack on the coffee table. Eddie smiles back even though it hurts. Steve pats the cushion next to him. Eddie sits so close he might as well have crawled into Steve’s lap. Their hands lace together. Steve offers Eddie the pills and then the water. Eddie accepts both graciously, downing the pills quickly. Steve replaces the water with the ice pack for Eddie’s throbbing face.

“Where’s Jack?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Joyce picked her up. I decided to let her have the day off of school after everything,” Steve answers, just as quietly.

Eddie nods, suddenly nervous. Steve made sure they were alone. Eddie can't help feeling in trouble. He keeps his eyes trained on his lap, ashamed of himself and the man he came from. 

“How are you feeling?” Steve ducks in an attempt to catch Eddie’s eyes.

“Sore,” Eddie huffs, still averting his gaze, “Do you hate me?”

“No, Eds, I don't hate you. I’m worried, maybe a little upset, but mostly I’m just glad you’re okay. That was a really scary phone call to get,” Steve explains softly. 

Eddie finally meets Steve’s warm honey gaze.

“Who called you?” Eddie doesn't ask what he wants.

He doesn't ask outright if it was Jack.

“Hopper. He told me Jack had called 911 and something about you being attacked. I didn't know what to think. I was so afraid I lost you.”

“Jesus, I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes.

“It isn't your fault, but we need to have a plan in place for if something like this happens again. I don't ever want Jack in this kind of situation again,” Steve states.

Eddie nods instantly.

“Next time I’m just gonna get us the hell out of there. I just… that was the first time I’ve seen him in over a decade. He was sayin’ shit about Jack and I was gonna walk away- you gotta believe I was gonna walk away, Stevie. Then h-he grabbed me and it was like I was a kid again. I-I blacked out,” he explains with a shaky voice, but steady resolve.

“I believe you,” Steve promises, “but we should still have something set up for all of us. If he’s shown up once, we can’t rule out the possibility of him showing up again.”

“Yeah, okay. What did you have in mind?”

They spend the better part of an hour and a half coming up with emergency plans. The plan for Eddie’s dad prompts a more in-depth conversation. Plans for as many scenarios as they can imagine themselves running into. Unwanted visit from an abusive parent? Load Jack in the car, call up the other, and wait it out until they can get the hell out of there. Can’t wait that long? Call Hopper. Jack-related emergency? Make sure Jack is okay first , but immediately notify the other. Eddie has to take point on something school related? It’s something they’ve talked about before but never came to a real conclusion on.

“I don’t think we should call you Jack’s dad until she does,” Steve says.

“Me too. Besides, that gives me more time to think of something different to be called. Dad just sounds so… old ,” Eddie replies.

Steve chuckles.

“I’m okay with you just calling yourself my partner, if you are,” he tells Eddie.

“I’m definitely okay with that,” Eddie smiles. 

Joyce worries over Eddie the moment they step foot in the house. He smiles as her hands fly around his face in a motherly fashion. She insists he sits at the table and lets her make him tea. Eddie has a hard time arguing. It’s something he’s discovered about Joyce. Denying her mothering is extremely difficult. Jack climbs onto Eddie’s lap. He easily circles his arms around her and she sinks into his chest.

When Jack almost knocks Eddie’s tea from his hand, Joyce tries to shoo her off. Jack clings to Eddie’s torso harder. Eddie assures Joyce it’s fine, but she gives Jack her best disapproving mom look. Jack sticks out a petulant tongue. Joyce sticks her own out in return, causing Jack to giggle.

“Can we go to the store? I wanna play piano,” Jack asks Eddie with big puppy dog eyes. 

Eddie opens his mouth to agree without a thought. Steve cuts him off.

“Not today, princess. Eddie needs to rest. We can do whatever you want at home, though,” he says to her.

“Home or home home?”

“What do you mean?” Steve scrunches his eyebrows.

“Sometimes when you say home we go to Eddie’s, but sometimes we go home home,” she explains.

“O-oh-”

“I don't wanna go home home. I wanna go home with Eddie.”

Eddie swears he’s a second away from melting and sliding right off the chair. His hold on her firms up as his affection leaks out of every pore. Steve gives her a small smile. 

“We can go home with Eddie,” he tells her.

Jack buries herself into Eddie’s torso. It’s a signal she’s done with the conversation and satisfied with its result. Joyce looks over the two of them with fondness. She asks Steve to help her with something in the other room, which he agrees to do without hesitation. Once in the living room, Joyce turns on him. Her features are soft with concern. 

“How are you doing?” She asks.

“I’m fine,” Steve shrugs, “work’s been good. Everything’s been good.”

“I mean after last night,” she raises her eyebrows as she clarifies.

Steve can't bullshit her no matter how hard he tries. 

“I… I-” his voice cracks.

Joyce has him in a hug before he even registers he’s crying. All the emotion, the fear, the gut-wrenching sensation of the floor being dropped from under him comes rushing to the front. His priority was Eddie and Jack. Make sure they're both okay. Make sure they're both dealing with things and not bottling them up. Make sure they know how much they're loved and supported. He didn't once think of himself in this situation. No, once the phone call with Hopper was over Steve had a one-track mind.

“Kid, something’s happened over at the Munson’s,” Hopper’s voice had crackled through the shitty office phone. 

Steve’s stomach instantly twisted into knots. He was patting his pockets in search of his keys.

“Are they okay? Is Jack-”

“Jack’s fine. She called us, but you should get over here as soon as you can. Something tells me your boy’s gonna need you,” Hopper tells him solemnly.

“What happened?” Steve is breathless as he tries to regain his footing on the tilted ground beneath him.

“His old man showed up, started trouble… he- uh- Well, he attacked Eddie. Just get over here, alright?”

“Y-yeah, I’m on my way. Tell them I’m on my way.”

Pulling up to see Forest Hills lit up like a patriotic Christmas tree only twisted his stomach more. His mouth was completely dry by the time he was parked. Stepping out of the car, Steve’s eyes scanned the scene until they landed on Eddie. The entire world came to a stop. There’s no movement around him, there's no sound or annoying glaring police lights. There’s just Eddie's dark eyes pouring right back into Steve’s. All Steve could do was stare and think Thank God, he’s okay. Eddie’s okay. It’s impossible to tell the damage done from a distance, but there’s a lit cigarette between his lips so Steve knew he must have been somewhat okay. 

Jack’s voice broke him from his Eddie-filled trance. The moment she was in his arms Steve’s feelings were put on the back burner. He left them back there on a low simmer. Joyce is trying to give the pot a stir before it boils over. 

“I was so scared, Joyce. I- I was so scared,” he lets out with a shaky breath.

She squeezes him tighter before letting go. This gives Steve the agency to step back to be able to look at her again. He remains in arms reach so she can give him a motherly caress of his dampened cheek.

“I know, sweetie. They’re okay, though. I know you want to be there for them, but don't forget you need them to be there for you too. This happened to you too,” she says with a gentle smile. 

Steve sucks in a sharp, but steadying breath. He nods. She’s right, as she usually is. Steve can’t just hold up Jack and Eddie. He needs them to hold him up too. They need to lean on each other. 

Eddie’s face is buried in the top of Jack’s hair when they return. Both of them have their eyes closed. Steve can't help the smile that grows on his face at the sight. Seeing them together is easily one of his favorite things in life. He runs a soft hand through Eddie’s hair, earning the attention of his big brown eyes. 

“Wanna get going?” He asks quietly.

Steve can see the corners of his smile.

“Wanna go home?” Eddie counters just as quietly.

Steve breathes out a chuckle.

“Yeah, Eds, let’s go home.”

They spend the rest of the day cuddled together on the couch watching whatever family movies they can find on. Steve orders a pizza for dinner and Jack doesn’t leave Eddie’s side. Her clinginess is acknowledged only by an exchange of sad, but knowing smiles between Steve and Eddie. They can't bring themselves to pry her away, both still just as shaken as she is by the previous night’s events. 

After she falls asleep on top of Eddie on the couch, he carefully brings her to her room. Steve watches from the doorway, leaning with crossed arms, as Eddie tenderly tucks her in. They close the door quietly and fall back into the couch together. Steve curls into Eddie, who easily receives him with open arms. A joint sigh is let out when they're fully settled into each other. 

“Would you tell me more about your mom?” Steve asks, barely above a whisper.

“My mom? Why?”

“I guess I like hearing about the parent that loved you. Especially after… everything,” he elaborates.

“Well, she was really smart. I mean really smart. She was set to go to a big fancy college across the country with a scholarship. I remember her tellin’ me about it to try to get me more into school, but it never really worked,” Eddie says, staring into the distance as he thinks.

“Why didn't she go?” 

“Me,” Eddie rakes a hand through Steve’s hair, “She met my dad and got pregnant the summer before she was supposed to start.”

Steve nods the best he could given his position.

“My parents were practically arranged. I mean, it wasn't anything formal, but there was definitely an expectation of them. Their dads were business partners back in the day,” Steve shares. 

“We really come from different sides of the tracks,” Eddie chuckles.

“I’d lay across those tracks just to reach you,” Steve hums.

“ Jesus , Stevie, you're gonna kill me if you don't quit being so poetic.”

Steve laughs lightly. They lay in silence for a moment. The warmth of each other comforts and soothes their muscles. Slowly, they shift until they’re laying entirely. Steve’s splayed out on top of Eddie, face in the crook of his neck.

“Do you wanna see what she looked like?” Eddie whispers suddenly.

Steve’s head perks up to look Eddie in the face. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are nervous.

“Yeah, I’d love that,” Steve smiles.

Eddie shifts him off so he can go into his bedroom. Their bedroom, Steve is trying to get used to thinking of it that way. He returns a few moments later with a brown photo album. There's no writing on the cover, just a shiny gold trim. Eddie plops down next to Steve, close enough for their bodies to press against each other.

“Alright, only one rule: no making fun of my hair,” Eddie warns him.

Steve nods with a serious set of his eyebrows. It’s impossible not to see Jack in the gesture. Eddie shakes his head but smiles. He opens to the first glossy page of pictures. The scrapbook isn't too big. There are two 4x6 photos on each page. The first picture has a baby with a mess of dark hair and a wide gummy smile laying on a colorful blanket. Steve beams at the image. The next one has the same baby on his tummy, looking up at the camera with giant brown eyes. 

The second page is where Steve sees her for the first time. She’s a delicate woman with round features like Eddie. Her frame is small and wiry in a way that reminds Steve of Joyce. She has dirty blond hair tucked back into a low-hanging ponytail and a bright smile that Steve would recognize anywhere. It’s the same wide toothy grin Eddie has, dimples and all. Her eyes are the same dark shade of brown as Eddie’s. Although he got the Munson nose and hair color, Eddie got everything else from his mother. 

“She’s beautiful,” Steve comments honestly.

She is beautiful. She’s beautiful because Eddie is beautiful. Maybe it's the other way around, but for Steve Eddie comes first. 

“Yeah, she was. I still don’t know what she saw in my dad.” 

“How old was he when they met?” Steve can't help, but ask when his eyes travel to the next picture. 

It wasn't clear how young Eddie’s mom looked until his dad was next to her. He isn't old in the image by any means, but he’s visibly older than her. He’s taller and wider, too. It’s like looking at a bird next to a wall.

“Twenty-five when they met, twenty-six by the time I was born,” Eddie answers. 

The numbers put a pit in Steve’s stomach. If she was getting ready to go to college that means his mom was-

“She was seventeen when they met, eighteen by the time I was born. Bastard trapped her, if you ask me,” Eddie finishes Steve’s internal thoughts. 

Steve flips through more pages of Eddie’s childhood. He was an extremely adorable baby. All chubby and soft looking with a face full of smiles. Then he’s an equally adorable toddler with more bumps and scrapes as he gets older. His mother is in a lot of the photos with him. Her eyes are always on him, and there's almost always a smile on her lips.

At around age three, Steve notices some new scars on Eddie’s mom's arms. They look like cigarette burns, but he can't be sure. He doesn't ask either. Instead, he comments on how much they look alike, especially as Eddie grew older. It’s a comment Eddie clearly appreciates. Steve gets stuck on an image of the two of them from when Eddie was about four. It’s a soft exchange that someone clearly caught candidly. 

Eddie is sat in his mother’s lap on a cushy armchair. Her arms are circled loosely around him as he twists to stare up into her face. He wears a large-eyed smile, an expression that’s mirrored by his mother. Her dirty blond hair is loose around her shoulders, curling in a way similar to Eddie’s. Steve wishes desperately to know what happened to cause such soft loving expressions. 

“I think this one’s my favorite,” Steve says. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it feels like I’m seeing you guys how you were.”

Eddie nods thoughtfully. 

“I dunno why it reminds me of Jack,” he says, studying the photo. 

“You kinda look like her here,” Steve chuckles. 

It’s true. If his hair went past his ears they’d pretty much be twins. Eddie supposes the resemblance shouldn't come as too much of a surprise. Although, even in the months of knowing Jack, Eddie has watched her grow a stronger resemblance to Steve. 

“Is it dumb to wish my mom got to meet her?” He asks quietly, staring at the photo. 

There's a deep ache in his chest that he hasn't felt before. It’s a hollow throb that reverberates in his bones. 

“Not at all. I wish she did too.”

Eddie’s watery eyes meet Steve’s.

“I wish she got to meet you too. I wish she got to see the family that found me,” the wobbly words tumble out of Eddie’s quivering lips.

He hasn't thought about his mom so much in ages. In fact, he kept her out of his mind when thinking of Jack and Steve for this very reason. He knew how much it would hurt that the people he loves most will never get to meet. It’s like being run over by a truck of painful emotion. Steve pulls him into a crushing embrace. Eddie doesn't really cry, but a few loose tears roll down his cheeks. Steve catches them with his thumbs and wipes them away. 

“We get to meet her in a way, through you. You carry her with you, y’know? It’s not the same but, we do know her, in a way,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles and crashes his lips into Steve’s. It's brief and wet but warms them both. 

“I love you so fucking much, Stevie. I’ve never loved someone like this. You fucking terrify me in the best way possible,” he tells him earnestly.

“I love you so fucking much too, Eds. What d’you say we go to bed?”

“I’m not tired,” Eddie pouts.

“I didn't say we had to go to sleep.”

His pout transforms into a smirk. Then he’s dragging Steve to their bedroom, both of them giggling like mad.

<< Page Five | Series Photo Album | AO3 | Page Seven>>

[spicycinnabun]

They were in the middle of a conversation about Eddie’s new job at the music center. Eddie was gesticulating wildly as he talked about one of his students—apparently, the boy was going to be the next Kirk Hammett—when Steve noticed a familiar shade of red on Eddie’s index finger.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s hand without thinking and lifted it to eye level. There was a gash, bleeding sluggishly. “You’re hurt,” he said, frowning. “Paper cut?”

Eddie laughed, surprised. “Oh, shit. Didn’t even feel that. Must be.”

Steve tutted. His paternal instincts immediately kicked in as he fished a bandaid out of his jacket pocket.

He carried those around daily now, along with Kleenex and hand sanitizer. Kids got dirty or hurt almost every hour of the day. It was ridiculous.

Steve tore the wrapper off and carefully applied the Band-Aid. It was pink. Hello Kitty.

Eddie twitched in his hold, but he didn’t pull away. “Stevie—” he started, just as Steve, still on autopilot, brought Eddie’s bandaged finger to his lips and kissed it.

Eddie made a noise, and Steve froze when he realized what he’d done.

“Uh,” Steve said eloquently. He dropped Eddie’s hand like it was on fire and stepped back, blushing profusely. “Sorry, I’m so used to doing that for Jackie, I wasn’t even thinki—”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupted him. He sounded incredibly amused.

Steve wanted to die. He could hear the smirk in Eddie’s voice, knew it was as wide as ever, and he couldn’t look up and face it.

“It’s okay. Thank you. My booboo feels better.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Steve said, laughing and hiding his face behind his palms. “Oh my god.”

Eddie gently grabbed his wrists and pulled them away, ducking his head to meet Steve’s eyes. “Afraid I can’t do that. You’ve treated my wound. We’re bonded now, and I must repay you for your kindness.”

“I hate you.”

Eddie’s eyes twinkled. He tilted his head. “Can I take you out for a milkshake?”

Oh…?

Oh.

“Yeah.” Steve zipped up his jacket. Straightened it. Tried to scrape up a single ounce of the coolness he still possessed. “I want a burger, too. And curly fries. And we can't be too long because I have to pick Jackie up at six. She’s on a playdate.”

Eddie’s grin softened. “Of course. Your wish is my command, sweetheart. If I may?”

Steve nodded, slightly confused, until Eddie snagged his hand and held onto it as they started to walk. It didn’t help chill Steve out, especially when Eddie squeezed, and he felt the Band-Aid flirt along the skin of his pinky knuckle.

[hitlikehammers]

whole wide world

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, teacher! Steve, gooey-clingy-heart-eyes Eddie needs his Stevie ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, amateur musicals, steve needs to stop using a ladder unsupervised because nothing bad happened this time but eddie is concerned that is the love of his life, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day thirteen: Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask ❤️ (@steddieas-shegoes)

look who's back, just like every other day, it's the rockstar husbands from je ne regrette rien being their codependent, desperately-in-love selves again! ♥️

“Goddamnit,” Steve curses the staple gun, the dry-rotted wood he’s trying to use it on, the acrylic-covered tarp masquerading as a backdrop leaving little crackle-dust everywhere every single time it fucking falls because the wood’s shit, the staples are shit, his co-advisor’s kid’s sick with the flu, the kids are in the band room rehearsing the opening number and Steve really cannot fucking believe he got roped into this to begin with, actually, like, how the fuck did the middle school guidance-counselor-slash-study-hall-monitor get conned into helping with the high school drama club, just because one of his JV soccer players landed the lead and bemoaned loudly enough during laps how they didn’t know if they’d be able to make the performance even work, because the choir teacher’s on maternity leave and the band director’s kind of a dick, and the needed more help—

Steve only is even in the high school for the goddamn athletics office. For, y’know, the equipments for the athletes.

Yet: here he is. Standing on a rusty fucking ladder that probably needs a spotter, to be honest, and if Steve’s admitting that then yeah, it definitely needs someone holding the goddamn thing, but here he is, already two hours after the final bell, trying to stick a painting of mattressesin a stack that only vaguely looks like mattresses so thank god that’s in the show title—

The ladder wobbles a little when he tries to catch the tarp-thing again but he can’t reach far enough without risking a long way down to a very hard stage floor, so the backdrop’s sacrificed back to the ground—a-fucking-gain—as he shifts his weight to steady the steps and it’s a close thing, he’s about ninety-seven percent sure he’s aimed the teetering feet of it back to solid ground okay but he glances around quick just in case, tries to figure if there’s anything he can grab for and let the ladder go on its own if need-be, and—

“That’s fucking dangerous, big boy,” a deep, and deeply unexpected, voice trails up from the floor, clipped with stress, with fear because Steve fucking knows that voice, and the ladder’s suddenly fully steady so he can turn and look and—

“Gonna give me a goddamn stroke or something, finding you up on one of these all by your lonesome,” Eddie’s staring up at him, and the words could be teasing, and Steve thinks maybe they intend to be, but: those eyes are too big. There’s a pulse Steve can count in that throat, even from seven-feet-up.

So he does what any man in love with his husband would do in the face of said-husband in fear, and for him: Steve climbs down careful, but quick, with Eddie’s hands scrambling to make sure of the ‘careful’ part as soon as he can reach, and then he turns, and then he lands on solid ground again to pull Eddie in and thank every colleague of his he’d been cursing in his mind for leaving him alone to do all this shit, because alone is the reason he gets to kiss his lover hard, and full; wrap around him and let him squeeze Steve to the point where it aches, where it creaks in his bones, like proof.

Lets Eddie attach his lips to suck a bruise, possessive and needy and protective all at once along his throat, and yeah:

Exactly like proof.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks when they pull apart just the slightest bit, because he wasn’t expecting Eddie to be home until probably close-on to midnight, let alone at the school well before five.

“Thought you could maybe use an extra set of hands,” Eddie shrugs like it’s a casual thing, showing up just to help out when he’s on a press cycle, and it’s evident even in his attire that that’s the case, if you know what to look for: more chains from his jeans, thicker soles on his boots just flirting with being platforms, at least two rings on every finger—save just one.

One has a ring, and a carefully-preserved and repeatedly-reinforced bread-bag tie: both serving the same purpose in very different points in their lives.

Point being: Eddie was wading through photoshoots and magazine spreads and radio spots and every fucking thing, and no matter how high he’s raising his eyebrow in a clear calling out of how he found Steve atop a shaky ladder as being obvious evidence of having use of an extra set of hands, the fact remains:

“But you’ve got the interview—“ the big ass interview with that shock-jock guy Steve kinda hates, but that’s a big fucking deal, and was the precise reason Steve wasn’t lamenting giving up his afternoon and evening to the at-least-halfway-to-lost-cause of the not-even-an-actual-full-fledged-theatre department: he wasn’t going to have Eddie home before bed anyway.

And yet: here stands the man.

“The boys have got it,” Eddie shrugs, like he actually doesn’t give a shit, and that’s…he does give a shit, he had sounded excited about it last night when they’d talked about their plans for the week over dinner, when Steve had bemoaned the travesty of this fucking production of Once Upon A Boxspring or whatever, and Eddie’d told him he was pretty sure he was going to be able to say fuck on the show even if they’d edit it, like he wouldn’t get in trouble, and he’d looked like a kid in a goddamn candy shop about it so yeah: Steve thinks he kinda did give a shit.

But he’s…not there.

“Gareth’s been itching to take the reins after he won out the final track list,” Eddie offers as explanation; “cocky bastard.”

And they collaborate on all the writing, music and lyrics, they’re not even the slightest bit competitive about it which would be hard to believe if all you saw of the members of Corroded Coffin were their goddamn shenanigans during a campaign; but the one think in their music that they docompete over?

Whose title-idea gets the opener on a given album. And Gareth did end up scooping them all when the execs came back with a shuffle. Steve had watched it unfold in real time; he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a grown man crow like Gareth had, and he is married to Edward fucking Munson.

So that’s saying something.

“Eds,” Steve tries to prod a little at the point of it all though, because Eddie’s got press, and this is a high school, and probably Eddie could get to the studio in time to catch the end of whatever, it’s prerecorded, he knows that much, they could squeeze a live interview in so they could probably do Eddie at the end and just shuffle it around, right, it’s easy, and that’s so much more important than this because this:

“Eds, it’s just a—“

“It’s the spring musical, baby,” Eddie says like he’s announcing the arrival of the president, of the Queen of England, then his eyes soften a little as he flicks at one of the real mattresses that will, presumably, be props for the actors if the show’s title isn’t a fucking lie: “you know that’s where my DM throne had its humble origins, before I elevated it to greatness?”

Steve did know that, not least because they’d smuggled Eddie in to DM a few special sessions before the gremlins graduated, and he’d taken his seat with regal aplomb every time, and Steve had learned that yeah, they used the random storage room that was mostly drama shit for Hellfire.

And the way he’d learned that was by sucking Eddie off hidden by some very ratty but very conveniently poofy ballgowns from a production of Cinderella.

“I missed you.”

Steve turns to him and blinks; Eddie’s eyes are on the mattress, his stance almost a little shy.

“You saw me this morning,” Steve doesn’t ask, exactly, but he…he’s not sure he’s following, is the thing.

“I was,” Eddie sighs, and flops to sit down on the mattress which, thankfully, is a mattress and gives a little, bounces under him.

“I was just feeling, I dunno,” he gives a shrug that fades into something like a shiver, and then Eddie’s arms come around too hug around his middle as he ducks his chin and, oh no.

None of that.

“I thought about you being, you know, you,” and Eddie gets to gesture at the mess of the stage only halfway before Steve’s catching his hand, lacing their fingers and pulling Eddie back up to standing, then back into Steve’s arms here he leans heavy, sighs deeper this time; relief instead of something shallow.

“Just you doing all this when you don’t even have a horse in the race, y’know?” Eddie muffles into the side of Steve’s neck, burrowed in tight. “And I was supposed to be in the zone about press and shit, and it just,” he shakes his head, which is more like the brush of his lips back and forth against Steve’s skin; “it wasn’t clicking at all, like I posed and did the looks and whatever,” and oh, Steve knows the looks, Steve has about half those looks printed out and framed in various parts of their home or tucked safe inside his wallet, whereas the other half he takes great joy in recreating at random to the chagrin of his darling husband, love of his whole goddamn life.

“Then Jeff asked if I wanted to duck out,” and Eddie smiles up at him, a little sheepish; they both know the boys can see right through Eddie feeling needy, or lovelorn; Steve’s grateful as shit for Eddie’s bandmates, their friends, for knowing when Eddie just needs Steve.

“I didn’t even think twice, just,” Eddie swallows hard, a little, peeking up through lashes and bangs as he exhales:

“Just wanted to see you before the middle of the fucking night.”

And what can Steve do in the face of that, really? He can’t argue it. Wouldn’t ever fucking want to.

“I love you,” he frames Eddie’s face and kiss the bridge of his nose, then soft between his brows as he breathes out with his whole heart: “so goddamn much.”

“Can you promise me you won’t do the,” Eddie tips his head behind them; “the ladder thing, at least not by yourself?” And Eddie’s eyes are so, so big again. “Like, pretty please, don’t do that again?”

“I won’t,” Steve swears it, and kisses him firm to seal the promise: “thanks for coming to the rescue.” Because there was a three percent chance Steve was going to wipe the fuck out from very very high, and he’s have survived it, but he’s not twenty anymore, and it would have fucking sucked, probably for a while.

“Always, baby,” Eddie murmurs, still tight against Steve lips before he straightens a little, and this time he’s framing Steve’s face, but more holding him still in place, emphatic:

“Actually, amendment,” he says seriously, eyes darting between Steve’s a tiny-touch frantic: “next time you need to be on a ladder, you call me first,” he damn-well declares it, rather than asks; “so I can hold it steady.”

“My hero,” Steve breathes against him with a smile, and there’s not even a hint of teasing in it.

“I don’t trust any other hands to catch you, baby,” Eddie tells him, a little too raw; full sincerity bleeding from him all the sudden as he caresses down the cheeks he’s still cupping: “no one else in the whole wide world appreciates what you’re worth.”

“And what’s that, exactly,” Steve scoffs a little, playful where he’s held in Eddie’s arms but Eddie: Eddie’s holding him tight, now, and his heartbeat’s heavy where he’s moving to crush Steve to his chest, and there’s a little wavering pitch of something in his voice when he whispers:

“The whole wide world,” and oh.

That’s the answer.

It’s Steve’s answer, too, to the same exact question, but hearing it said so plain never stops feeling like the ending and remaking of the whole wide world, every time.

So yeah, Steve has to take a minute to swallow through the tightness in his throat, and maybe he does that with his forehead bowed against his husbands so they breathe each other in as a rule just in the course of living in the moment, together—and when the straighten up Steve steals a kiss first, quick but hard, with feeling, before he cracks his neck and sighs, taking in the scene that’s settled around them.

“Help me try and figure this out to hang?” Steve kicks at the tarp-tapestry, and Eddie walks its perimeter critically before frowning up at Steve.

“Think it needs some touch ups,” he pronounces solemnly, and fuck, yeah, all the color-dust from the useless staple-holes and the falling. But his husband’s actually really good with details, and matching colors, and using a brush, and fantasy settings—

“Paint’s in the back,” he says with a lilt of suggestion and Eddie lights up and grabs Steve’s hand to drag him toward the promise of painting, like maybe all he needed really was just…this.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[toomanyacorns]

teacher!Steve trying to get rockstar!Eddie ready (on time) for his first award show

[shigussy]

i keep getting tiktoks of these younger gen z kids referencing a time they did something relating to fandom in public and now they're embarrassed by it and everytime i see one i sit there thinking over all of middle and high school and having genuinely 0 moments that i feel embarrassed by, like i definitely did a lot of shit these kids would be embarrassed by but i think these are all just really fucking funny

also photographic evidence of the kinda kid i was. these are from 2014/15 when i was in 8th grade

-desolation row one shot(still on wattpad gerard way/reader smut)

-twerk it on (mcr crack fanfic no longer on wattpad but i have another fic in my library called twerking in taco bell which definitely ALSO used for my reading log)

-frank iero must die(a serial killer/assassin frerard fic, still on wattpad)

-hair (really vague maybe a phanfic? nowhere in my wattpad library rip)

my binder i used in 7th grade i had a blue one that looked pretty similar to this for 8th grade but idk where it went, also the parts i scribbled out are my full legal name i had written on it. i wrote it normally and then the big spot is where i wrote my name REALLY BIG in elysian code from the vladimir tod books. also the lines are from when i used an exacto knife to cut up some papers and forgot that my binder was underneath

in conclusion yall can now see why im so shameless about talking about shigaraki the way i do

[resident-gay-bitch]

please reblog for a bigger sample size <3

[steddieasitgoes]

Single dad Steve who works a lot and feels bad that he can’t volunteer at the elementary school so when winter volunteer opportunities open up he tells his kiddo to sign him up for whatever they think is the funnest option. Which is how Steve ends up being the sole volunteer for the holiday recital. A fact he initially is upset with until he meets the music teacher aka Mr. Eddie, and suddenly Steve is glad he doesn’t have to compete with any of the other moms for Eddie’s attention.

Not that he’d have to compete. Eddie Munson falls in love with Steve the minute he walks into his classroom in a yellow sweater and makes a lame dad joke.

[lemonmarquee]

hiiii does anyone know where that one fic went abt music teacher! eddie and teacher! reader?? i loved it sm it was a series but i don’t remember who wrote it/ where to find it :(( i hope it didn’t get deleted

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part seven)

Prev. Part one

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He wasn’t going to lie. After a month of hotel breakfast, it was starting to get disgusting. Constant toast made with old bread and some of the crappiest cups of coffee ever. If he was extremely lucky, he’d get a waffle. He’d do anything to get a signature Hawkins diner French toast stick. He thinks it’s so dumb that they will be gone for three whole months and only have 12 concerts. As much as he loves his band and all the fans, he can’t wait for tour to be over. He wants to sleep in his own bed for a day. He wants see his uncle and feed the cats outside the trailer. He wants to stay up all night watching crappy movies with his friends. He especially wants to see Steve. He really really missed him. It was weird. He could hardly stand to be without him. He wonders what he was doing now. Is he even upset that Eddie left?

“Hellooo? Earth to eddie?” Freddie called out waving his hands in front of his face, “Gareth said he’s dedicating to Abby tonight.” At every concert they took turns dedicating the show to someone. Abby was Gareth’s little sister. She was 14 and was probably the sweetest kid he’d ever met.

“He’s too busy moping over his boyfriend,” Jeff sighed.

Pardon? He has a boyfriend that he wasn’t aware of? “Excuse me?”

“I said that you’re too busy mop-“

“No I heard you I’m just confused. What boyfriend?” They all laughed and he just stared blankly in return. When Gareth noticed he looked shocked.

“Steve? You aren’t dating?” Woah. How did they come to this conclusion?

“No?!”

“Really?” Freddie exclaimed, “there is no way! Have you seen you two?!”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?! How did you come to this conclusion?” They all looked at each other with concern. How would anyone think that.

“I don’t know,” Jeff sighed, “it’s just… nothing man never mind, forget it.”

“Okay I’m sorry but,” Gareth started, “you do like him though right?” Wow. Rude. Just expose all of his secrets like it’s nothing. Without his consent! He felt personally attacked and harassed, so he denied.

“No way!” They all smirked. That snarky little smirk they used to get whatever they wanted. And it always worked, “oh my gooood fine. Yes. I have a massive gay crush on Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington! Happy?”

“Very,” Jeff said, “and it was extremely obvious. Why aren’t you dating?” Is this a real life question?

“Ummm hello? Steve is very obviously straight.” They did that weird look again! What is up with them?

“Sure man. Let’s just go… we have shows to preform,” Gareth clapped once and stood up. Today was concert number 5 so that means almost halfway done! One and a half months until he gets to see- oh god. It was obvious.

They grabbed their few bags and headed to the bus. It wasn’t too bad. They had a few too many blankets so at least it was cozy. They were currently in Southern Wyoming. Their next concert was in Denver. The roads were empty and there was nothing outside. He spent most of the ride with his Walkman and two pens so he can drum on his legs (Gareth hates when he does this, claiming it’s ‘his thing’).

He must’ve fallen asleep at some point because 3 hours later he woke up to Jeff screaming about his excitement. He got up and walked to his sweetheart (despite Steve and Robin constantly making fun of him, they all named their instruments: Jeff’s guitar is named baby, Freddie’s bass is named hot stuff and last but certainly not least Gareth’s drums are named Daniel.) He picked it up and some parts of Gareth’s drum set. They walked about three blocks and made it to the stadium. It was nice to say the least.

They had 1 hour until people started to show up. 2 until showtime. They quickly set up to get in as much practice as they could. They stopped after 45 minutes so a) they’d have time to get ready and b) so their fingers wouldn’t bleed at any point of the night.

They adrenaline was high back stage. They smoked (they swear just a little bit) just to ease the anxiety. They got dressed and waited. And waited some more. Waited until there was 15 minutes to go on stage. They were now standing up screaming nonsense at each other. They did this before every show. For no reason. They should probably stop before they lose their voices before they even go to play.

When they were about to go out they all downed an energy drink like it was a shot. “You guys ready?” Jeff asked. When they all said no, they walked out.

They amount of people there never failed to amaze Eddie. They were all screaming and if that didn’t immediately boost their confidence, nothing would.

Gareth walked up to the microphone to start the show. “Hello Denver!” the crowd quite literally went wild, “it is an honor to be here and we’d like to thank you all for coming! As you may or may not know we always dedicate our shows to a special someone. Tonight we are dedicating to my lovely little sister Abby. She is so kind and probably my best friend,” all of the band looked at each other with their jaws dropped in offense, “any ways I love her and here. We. Go!” Gareth ran back to his seat to count off to their first song of the night.

Eddie found it easy to get lost in the music. He forgets the crowd is there and before he knows it they are in their last song. This song has always been and always will be his favorite. Eddie had written it in ‘89 at three in the morning. He called it ‘Invisible Man (I See You)’. He wrote it after Steve had told him everything. And he means everything. From his dad, to Tommy, to the reading, and even what he thinks of himself. Steve had said, “nobody sees me for who I am. They think I’m dumb and ‘only good for my charm’. Don’t get me wrong, I am very charming,” he faked a laugh, “I hate it Eddie. I really do. I wish everyone would stop. I feel… invisible.” He never told Steve about the song. He would probably hate him if he found out. That’s a really weird thing to do for someone who is only his best friend and won’t ever be anything more.

The song was still heavy but somehow a lot more calmer. Playing made Eddie feel good. Really good. None of the band knew what the song was about. They just saw how the lyrics were better than the rest of the songs (which was really hard to beat) and immediately started working on the beat.

They might look through.

But don’t worry invisible man,

I see you.

The crowd felt electrifying during the song. He felt like he was floating. He waited for the crowd to die down a bit before closing off, “Goodnight Denver! You have been amazing! Crossing our fingers we’ll get to come back!” And just like that one more show was done. They ran to the bus and went to their next hotel.

When they got there they all told each other how amazing they did and goodnight before going in their own rooms.

After today Eddie only had one thing to do, call the invisible man himself. Much to his disappointment, he didn’t pick up. So he did the next best thing, called Robin.

“Heeeelllllooooooooo? How may I help you at this hour?”

“Steve?”

“Eddie!!! How are you? I’ve missed you. Did you have a concert tonight?”

“I’ve missed you too Steve, are you drunk right now?” He could hear Robin shout on the other end.

“Edddiiiiieeee!” She shouted, “we are indeed very drunk. We just got back from a gay bar!,” now why on earth would Steve be at a gay bar? The world may never know, “Steve has been angry all night. So annoying! He only just now cheered up when he heard yoooouuuu.” He could hear Steve giggling and telling her to shut up, “okay I have to go to bed. And Eddie?”

“Hm?”

She whispered so Steve couldn’t hear despite his protests, “for the love of god, please come home early so I don’t have to hear Steve cry about you anymore. Okay byeeeee!” What? Steve cried? Over him? She was probably lying. She was clearly over the legal drinking limit.

“Hi.”

“Hi Stevie.”

“I wish you could come home.”

“Me too.”

“Why? You’re probably having soooo much fun!” He smiled at the phone. He needs to start making Steve drink more often.

He sighed, “I am, but I’d rather be home. With you.” Oh god. That was way too much.

…

“Well Steve, it’s getting late. And you need some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning okay?”

“Okay. Love you Eddie. Good night.” Oh. Well. That was weird. It made Eddie feel all warm and fuzzy inside. But Steve is drunk, so it couldn’t mean anything. (But he heard the way Steve said it. He wholeheartedly meant it.)

“Good night Stevie.” He could practically hear his frown over the phone and he couldn’t handle that right now so he put the phone down.

After 20 minutes of deep thinking about the phone call and what Robin said, he slept the best he had since leaving.

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Next

The Eddie part! Despite it being short this one is by far my favorite. Also, call me Dr Suess cause I be rhyming 😎. I’m so proud for making a song title and lyrics. Also completely ignore the changes in the last part and act like it was always there. I love Steve immediately becoming somehow more intoxicated when he hears Eddie’s voice. Thank you for reading this. Also does anyone actually read my little authors note? Blah blah blah no one cares! As always: comment or reblog to be tagged in future parts! (Also just know if you complimented me or said literally anything: I blushed and giggled like a manic. Thank you guys so much!)

Tag list: @asbealthgn @queerbeansworld @bird-with-pencils @vecnuthy @artiststarme @captain-winter-wolf-aehs @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflower @bumblebeecuttlefishes @fando-random @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @fluffyreturns @scheodingers-muppet @wonderland-girl143-blog

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking about married teacher steve and rockstar eddie.

steve’s students like to poke fun at him for “not being cool” or “trying to be cool”, and steve just feeds into it and plays up his cluelessness to modern things and what’s “hip” nowadays. he always just tells them they have no idea, and they’re gonna eat their words one day when they see how cool he really is, but all the kids just laugh and think he’s being sarcastic.

one day a group in his class is talking about the popular rock music star eddie munson, about his music and how much they love him, and steve joins in, asking them about eddie and what kind of music he makes and so on. he says something like “oh yeah, i think i know munson. yeah he’s cool, makes good stuff” and the kids are like “as if you know eddie munson, mr h, there is no way”. steve just chuckles and says “if you say so”

meanwhile eddie EATS EACH STORY UP when steve comes home with a something new to tell him all about what his kids were saying to him today

honourable mention but eddie also is WEAK for steve’s teacher outfits, the button ups, the vests, when he wears a tie WITH his glasses consider eddie a dead man.

on the last day of class for the year steve has given his class almost a free period of sorts to just chat and muck about being that it’s so close to vacation and all, and ofc the topic of steve’s uncoolness comes up again, and he’s just all laughs and smiles not even trying to fight back while they poke harmless fun at him, just looking smug as shit knowing these kids are in for a treat.

the bell goes and they all start to pack up their things to leave, and steve calls out to get their attention, remember the homework, stay safe, have a good break and all that, but THEN who else walks through the classroom door but eddie. munson. heading straight towards steve telling him “hey babe, ready to go?”

“yep, just let me grab my stuff” steve says back, and the class is stunned silent. eddie walks over to steve’s desk and puts a hand on his back as steve is leaning over it putting books and pages into his bag, “you guys are all free to go” he looks up to the class, smug as ever.

as he and eddie head towards the door, steve stops and turns around back to his class one last time, whisper shouting over his shoulder “who’s cool now?”

eddie is laughing infront of him as they walk out together, listening to the classroom they’d just left erupt into chaos.

[fuctacles]

more single dad Steve???

I'm in the band AU in which Steve is a single dad whose kid joins a local band and asks if they can use their garage for practice. Steve agrees but a couple days later his house is trashed by none other than Corroded Coffin, a local burn-out metal band that definitely isn't a group of teenagers as he expected.

Or alternatively

Steve's kid loves their music teacher and schools funding for the arts department was cut yet again so his band is looking for a place to practice. Steve agrees to help out. The music teacher is way more metal and way hotter than he expected.

[funnylittlelad]

Shelter from the Storm - Steddie

New page on AO3

page summary: “You remember where she is?” Steve asks gently when they get out of the car.

“Yeah, I don't think I could forget,” Eddie answers, staring off at the sea of graves.

Steve takes his hand once they meet each other at the trunk.

“Lead the way,” he encourages softly.

Eddie offers him a small sad smile paired with a minuscule nod before doing just that. He leads Steve through tombstones of various shapes, sizes, and ages. Leafless branches of willow trees sway in the breeze. It's that time of year when there's no snow, but everything is still cold and dead. Eddie traces the path he only took once on a day he tries very hard not to think about. He stops in front of a dark tombstone with a delicate font etched into it.

Sara Louise Munson

February 22, 1947 - March 15, 1975

Beloved Daughter, Mother, and Wife

wc: 12.9k

warnings: this page is an emotional doozy. talks of and to dead parents and discussions of past abusive family structures.

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve grows up playing piano, absolutely hates it, but is so good at it. His parents aren’t around enough by the time he’s a teen to force him to his practices, so he slowly stops going.

His music teacher happens to be Robin’s mom, who studied at Juilliard, and traveled for nearly a decade with various orchestras and bands before settling down with her husband in Hawkins.

She can see what’s going on with Steve from day one, but knows better than to interfere.

Until he quits.

She can’t stand by and let someone so musically gifted give it up.

She shows up at his house with a violin, her own violin that she hadn’t used in years.

He’s hesitant at first, but decides to give it a try as long as she doesn’t tell his parents. The last thing he wants is for them to find out he picked up a new instrument.

She can’t give him official lessons, so she shows up to his house twice a week and hopes that he practices in his own time.

He’s a natural.

He takes to it like a duck to water.

She encourages him to perform in a local talent show, all kids under 18, most of them not half as talented as he is.

He only agrees when she says she’ll be front row.

And sure enough, for once in his life, someone shows up when they say they will. She’s sitting front row with her husband on one side and her daughter on the other. She smiles as he takes the stage, nervous about people who know him seeing him and reporting back to his parents.

He performs with heart, something he lacked with the piano. He performs with talent, something he may have with any instrument he picks up.

But most importantly, he plays with a smile. He’s having fun.

He sticks around to watch some of the other people performing: Tammy Thompson singing a very out of tune rendition of America The Beautiful, some kid from one of his classes playing piano miserably, and some band performing very loud, very angry music.

Steve wins, and for once, it feels better than when he wins at a swim meet or basketball game.

He spends the next three years secretly practicing, only performing in shows out of town, never saying anything to his parents.

He doesn’t want them to ruin this for him.

He applies to Juilliard, not thinking he has a chance in hell, not with his academic grades.

Luckily, they see that he’s “exceptional with the strings” and “plays with emotion that can’t be trained.”

He gets in.

He goes.

He thinks he may actually be able to do this, use a gift he has to make his life better.

His parents even find it acceptable, mostly because he got into the best school he could have. They still don’t bother showing up for his shows, but Mrs. Buckley always finds a way.

In his sophomore year, Robin gets in, and they both move into a small apartment off campus together. He promised to look out for her.

She tells him that music wasn’t really her passion, she was just good with a trumpet. She really wanted to be an engineer.

In his junior year, Robin transfers to Columbia, starts doing what she really wanted to do from the start. He’s proud of her, but misses having someone on campus during the day to have lunch with.

Until he stumbles, literally, into someone vaguely familiar.

“Sorry, man. Running late.”

Steve pats the man on the shoulder and turns to get to his class when the man stops him.

“Harrington? You’re a student here?”

He turns back and finally recognizes the man in front of him.

“Munson? When did you get here?”

“I got in this year. Kinda fucked up my first audition last year and they were kind enough to give me another shot.” Eddie smiled. “What on earth are you here for?”

“Violin. You?”

“Guitar and songwriting.”

“That’s great, man. I’m just really running late. Catch up soon?”

Soon was two weeks later, when Steve ran into Eddie again while leaving class.

“We should probably stop running into each other like this,” Eddie smirked. “The universe is trying to tell us something.”

“What’s it trying to tell us?”

“Not sure. Maybe we should go grab dinner and find out.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Got better plans?”

Steve thought about how Robin was barely at the apartment due to studying for midterms. He thought about how his only other friend from here was busy rehearsing for their senior showcase.

“Nah. Let me bring this home first,” he held up his violin case. “Actually.”

Steve was on a budget. His parents gave him money, sure, but they thought he was living on campus so the money they sent covered rent and groceries and nothing else.

“I could make dinner. If you want?”

“Steve Harrington cooks? And plays violin?” Eddie fake swooned. “Be still my beating heart. How will I not be seduced?”

Steve rolled his eyes. He remembered Eddie’s dramatics from school and knew better than to feed into them.

“I can make some spaghetti. Nothing fancy.”

“Spaghetti sounds great,” Eddie’s fake swoon turned to a soft smile. “You want some help?”

Steve didn’t need help, usually didn’t even want any.

But something about the way his stomach dipped when Eddie stepped closer, and the way he thought about having Eddie in his apartment, made him agree.

“Sure.”

They walked to Steve’s apartment in a comfortable silence, though Eddie kept tapping the back of his fingers against Steve’s hand.

Eddie fit next to Steve. They cooked together, they ate together, they even managed to clean up together. It was easy to find something to talk about. He’d never clicked with anyone like this, not even Robin.

By the time Robin came home, Steve and Eddie were both passed out on the couch, fingers laced together as if they hadn’t been brave enough to do anything more before they fell asleep.

By morning, Steve’s head was on Eddie’s shoulder, Eddie’s arm wrapped around him loosely.

Waking up to a soft kiss on his lips was something Steve couldn’t have imagined when he first ran into Eddie, but he was pretty glad it was how he started his day.

And almost every day after that, whether he woke up to a kiss, or met up with Eddie on campus for a kiss, he started his day with love on his lips.

[forwhomthewordsflow]

Stars In My Eyes

(a part two to this fic!)

modern music teacher!eddie munson x art teacher fem!reader

18+ ONLY MDNI!!!

warnings: fluff, so fluffy, first dates, first kisses, some anxiety/stress, a little dash of coach!steve harrington, suggestiveness

author's note: i feel like this took me ages to write! so sorry for the wait...i do sort of love how this turned out :) writing a first kiss scene is hard!!!

please let me know what your thoughts are on this series!

word count: 7.7k

Eddie Munson couldn’t believe his luck.

Like, sure he’s gotten lucky a few times before.  There was that one time an officer let him off with a warning after he rolled through a stop sign, he’d played the “I’m a teacher during finals week” card and it had seemed to work out pretty well for him.  There were also a few times when a stranger in front of him at the Starbucks drive thru had paid for his morning coffee, only for him to turn around and see there was no one behind him to pay it forward to.  

And then, there was that time back during his final senior year where Stacy Cowell was going through a “rebel phase” and decided to give Eddie a string of random blowjobs over the course of a week and a half to make herself feel like she was living on “the wild side.”  She quickly transitioned out of that phase when Eddie had asked her out on a date, he figured they should probably make an effort to learn a little about each other if she was going to be deepthroating him in the back of his van every other day after school.  She turned him down with a disgusted sneer, leaving Eddie a little heartbroken by the fact that a girl could be so offended at the idea of a date with him.  

But none of that even mattered to Eddie anymore.  All of those situations touched by a bit of luck have been reduced down to mere coincidences now that he has you in his life.  Even though it was only one IKEA date trip that the two of you went on last weekend, Eddie couldn’t stop himself from imagining a long, happy future with you because of how fucking perfect it all went.

- 

You don’t think you’ve ever been so nervously giddy over anything in your entire life.  There had never really been any boys that you were crazy for when you were younger.  Sure, you’d been in love a couple times before, but nothing was ever…”wow.” 

 You’d never felt any real sparks, never met anyone truly special enough to change your life like all of the women you’d seen in movies or read about in books.  

But Eddie…he was very much wow.

After you’d worked out the details for your IKEA trip that afternoon in your classroom, you found it hard to stop blushing for the remainder of the week.  The both of you decided that you’d go on Saturday morning, and Eddie had insisted on picking you up and driving there together.  He bowed his head and lightly pressed his lips to your hand in a dramatic and silly fashion before leaving your classroom.  Your knees felt weak and a bright red blush bloomed on your face as Eddie stood back up to his full height to face you. 

“You know,” he started, still holding your hand, "you're really cute when you blush like that.”

A tiny squeak is all that comes out of your mouth when you open it to respond.  

You struggle to put together a coherent sentence and settle for the smile and girlish giggle that bubbled its way out of your chest.  

“I’ll see you later.”

Eddie started to walk backwards, keeping your hand in his grasp until he was too far away and then turning around to exit your classroom.  There wasn’t much else you could do except stare at the hand that had just been held by him, while holding your other over your mouth in shock.  

Eddie waited the appropriate five seconds after being out of your line of sight before erupting into a silent “fist-punching-head-banging-fuck yeah!” celebration in the hallway.  He couldn’t believe he kissed your hand.  The thought to kiss your hand had barely graced his mind before his body had made the decision to go through with it.  Eddie was terrified that his nerdy qualities would cause you to run for the hills, or that you’d think he was weird or stupid.

But instead, you’d blushed bright red and blessed his ears with a giggle, and all of Eddie’s worries and fears were banished from his mind at the sound of it.  

Eddie decided he was going to really enjoy taking every opportunity to make you blush.  

-

There were only two days until your IKEA trip with Eddie, and somehow you kept missing each other in the hallways at school.  On the rare occasion that Eddie had a spare moment, you were at some kind of art teacher workshop.  Whenever you could pull yourself away from decorating your classroom and lesson-planning, Eddie was leaving early for the day to go look at different types of Tubano drums for his classroom.  

There were a couple of staff meetings that everyone had to attend, but the two of you never ended up sitting next to each other.  Instead, you would indulge in a game of eye tag, making yourself feel like you were in high school all over again with a big fat crush.  

While you were really looking forward to your day out with Eddie, a tiny part of you was glad that you weren’t running into him constantly.  You found yourself overpouring your coffee in the morning because of the way the deep brown shade of the coffee matched the color of Eddie’s eyes.  You accidentally took a sip out of your paint water cup instead of your drinking cup because you were staring off at the lamps in your room, wondering which one had been Eddie’s favorite.  Two days was just what you needed to collect yourself enough to act like a normal human being before you saw Eddie again.  You weren’t even allowing yourself the time to think about being in a car with him for the hour that it took to get to IKEA.  All of the workshops, lesson plans and other preparation for the start of school kept you calm and collected.

Eddie, on the other hand, was reduced to a pile of chunky silver rings and nerves.  He couldn’t stop thinking about everything he had to get done before your trip…date?  Was it a date?  Did you say the word date when you asked him?  Is it even a date when the girl asks the guy-

Eddie’s frantic pacing is interrupted by a shark knock on his propped open classroom door.

“Yo, Munson.  How’s the…” Steve trailed off as he took in Eddie’s disheveled state.  “Dude.”

“I know, I know, man.” Eddie responds, plopping down in a chair that was meant for one of his students.  He puts his head in his hands, tugging on the roots to try and get a grip.

“What’s goin’ on, Ed?  I haven’t seen you this distraught since One Direction broke up.”  Steve sits on top of a desk next to Eddie, jabbing him softly in the shoulder after his lame attempt at getting a smile out of Eddie.  

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at the stupid joke.  He looks up at Steve with a deep sigh, then stands up and grabs him by the shoulders.

“If I tell you, it stays between us.”  Eddie fixes Steve with a hard look and raised eyebrows, not any different from the look he gives his students when they’re getting up to no good.  “I’m so dead serious.”

Steve’s eyes widen at the sudden seriousness, making a cross over his chest with his finger.  “Yeah man, cross my heart and all that.”

Eddie lets go of Steve, slumping back into the chair with a huff.  

“How do you know that a date is a date, and not just a friend thing?”

Steve smiles cockily and leans forward, always interested in Eddie’s love life…or lack thereof.

“Well, I don’t know…I think I might have to hear a little more about this special lady in order for me to provide some of my good ol’ Harrington Love Advice.”  Steve wiggles his eyebrows at Eddie, throwing in a wink for the sake of being annoying.

Eddie rolls his eyes, he knew it was a mistake to bring up girls around this guy.  Steve was always giving Eddie pointers on how to get chicks the way he did, but Eddie was in no way similar to Steve when it came to relationships.  Steve never had nothing to do on the weekends, always with a new girl, sometimes even the single moms at school.  He’d meet them out at a bar, woo them, take them to dinner and then even sometimes back to his place.  Despite his fuck-boy tendencies, Eddie knows it’s never that meaningful for either party.  Steve’s been pining after one of the English teachers for years, and these flings are only serving as a way to satiate his intensely flirtatious side.  

As annoying as he may be, it would be nice to rant about all of his pent up loverboy feelings for you to Steve.  Eddie knows he’s just giving him a hard time, it’s one of the many love languages they share as best friends.

“I-it’s just…she’s so beautiful man, like…holy fuck.”  Eddie shakes his head in disbelief, looking off into the distance as he rambles on about you.  “I mean just…she looks like some kind of Elven princess-angel-goddess-fairy–”

“Dude, Ed.  None of that nerd shit please, say it to me in English.”

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head with a sigh.  

“Okay.  I really like her.  I haven’t felt this way in years, maybe ever.  We met officially yesterday and just…clicked.”

Steve smiles at Eddie as he talks about you, happy to see his friend so excited about someone.

“We made plans to go to IKEA this weekend, but I don’t know what to make of it?  Is it a date?  Should I bring her flowers?  What if I do bring her flowers and she gets weirded out because it was actually never a date at all?”

Steve holds his hands up like he’s trying to calm down an animal.  

“Woah there, buddy.  No need to get all freaked out about it.”  Steve can’t help but to laugh a little at the helpless look on his friend’s face.  “Let’s just start with the details, okay?  Who asked who?”

“She asked me.  I said I liked her lamps and then she said she got them at IKEA and then I said that I needed some for my room and then she said that we should go to IKEAandshopforsometogether-”

“Okay, okay man.  Take a deep breath.”  Steve motions for Eddie to inhale for a couple seconds.  

“Then let it all out.”  Eddie expels the breath from his lips in a hard huff, looking a little calmer.  “Alright.  So, she asked you?”

Eddie nods.

“That’s good, it means she’s interested!  Not a lot of women are making the first move these days, it means that she definitely wants a slice of Munson.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at Steve, but still waits for him to go on.

“Are you picking her up for the trip to IKEA?”

“Yeah, I offered to pick her up and drive us both there since it’s about an hour away.”

Steve scratches his five o’clock stubble.

“Hmm…okay.  Did she like…jump at the chance for you to drive her or was there some hesitation before she agreed?”

Eddie thinks back to that moment.  How the two of you were standing slightly too close for new friends, the way your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked up at him, how he was surprised you couldn’t hear his heart beating out of his chest.  

He remembers offering to drive the both of you to the store, surprising himself by saying it way calmer than he was feeling.  Your face lit up a little, like you were shocked that he’d even offer to pick you up and drive you there.  You smiled and nodded your head sweetly before agreeing out loud.

Eddie feels himself smiling at the tiny memory.

“It wasn’t like she immediately answered…but she definitely was smiling when she agreed.  She didn’t seem nervous about it or anything, it was more like she was excited or something.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up as a smirk emerges on his face.

“So let me see if I’m getting this straight.  She asked you to go to IKEA, probably knowing it was a long drive, and then she happily agreed to let you pick her up and drive the two of you there?  For a whole two hours there and back?”

Eddie nods, anxiously awaiting Steve’s opinion on all of this.

“I mean, it’ll probably be a good four or five hours that you spend together driving and shopping.”

Steve fixes Eddie with a look that says ‘c’mon man, it’s obvious.’

Eddie’s had enough of his edging.  “Will you just get to the fucking point please for the love of god?”

Steve sighs and claps a hand on Eddie's shoulder. 

“Ed, it’s a date.”

Eddie barks out a triumphant laugh and Steve does the same.  The two men high five and Steve wraps a beefy arm around Eddie’s shoulder to pat him on the chest.  Eddie can’t help but to let out a big sigh of relief now that he can stop worrying about how to act on this trip date.

-

On Friday, you could’ve sworn you went slightly neurotic.  

Since Tuesday you’d been considering your day with Eddie as a date, but it suddenly hit you that maybe he didn’t feel the same way.  What if you’d been doing all this worrying and freaking out for no reason?  What if he ends up calling you ‘dude’ the entire day?  What if he has a girlfriend already, and he just agreed to take you to IKEA so that you wouldn’t get your feelings hurt?

You’d been running circles in your head trying to prepare yourself for any and all possible outcomes that Saturday could hold for you, but none of it seemed to be doing you any good.

So, you did what you always did whenever you found yourself flipping out over something new.

You made a to-do list. 

Pick out an outfit.  Dress! too fancy…jeans?  Dress, definitely dress. not too fancy though…

Drink wine 

Watch movie

Clean house…again

Drink more wine

Possibly reconsider outfit…

After all was said and done, you plopped down on your worn-in couch, sufficiently drunk with a clean house and an outfit neatly hung up outside of your closet.  You decide to pour your third and final glass of wine for the evening, and to surrender your anxiety to the gods of love.  You hope and pray that they like you enough to let you have this one. 

-

It was finally Saturday.  Eddie stands in front of his closet furiously, wondering why in the fuck he can’t find a single thing to wear for his date with you today.  He’s got enough clothes to fill his entire closet, dresser, and a $20 clothing rack he picked up at Target years ago.  Steve said to just go with what felt the most like ‘Eddie’, but he’s suddenly unable to remember what his style even looks like.  

He wants to punch himself in the nuts for not taking the time last night to plan this all out like a normal person.  

He ends up settling for a fitted white tee, a pair of trusty black jeans, and black boots.  On a FaceTime call with Steve (so he could approve Eddie’s choice), Steve mentioned that the outfit was casual, but still fairly nice, and that the white shirt showed off his tattoos and muscles.

“Chicks dig the muscles and white tee combo, man.  Trust.”

Eddie chuckles at his friend’s ‘frat boy’ lingo, but the comment makes him feel better about his appearance anyways.  Last year, Steve had managed to convince Eddie to start going to the gym with him after school during the week, and it pains him to admit that he sort of really likes it now.  He likes how much stronger he feels, he likes sweating out all of his frustrations, and most of all he likes the way he fills out his t-shirts now.

After hanging up the call with Steve, Eddie flexes a little in his mirror before leaving to go pick you up.  He decides to do a few last minute push ups and to moisturize the tattoos on his arms so that he looks extra good for you.

-

Perhaps being slightly neurotic about this date was a good idea.

Thanks to all of your meticulous planning, you managed to get completely ready with a half hour to spare.  You decided against sitting on your couch until Eddie arrived since the nervous butterflies in your stomach made you want to throw up, so you opted to wander around your house for the remainder of the time.

You pass by your mirror, doing a final check and making sure your outfit and makeup are up to par.  You’d decided on a simple white dress, with a denim button up thrown over it and your pair of black chelsea boots that had yet to let you down.  You smile at your reflection, happy that you’d managed to choose a comfy and cute outfit that felt like you.

There’d been too many dates before this one where you’d gone out and spent insane amounts of money on brand new outfits that you weren’t even sure you really liked, all in the name of impressing your date and hoping he likes you enough to ask you out on a second one.  When prepping for those dates, you spent hours upon hours running around like a mad woman.  Shaving, plucking, tweezing, waxing.  Making sure your hair curled just right and that your eyeliner was sexy, but not slutty.

You couldn’t figure out why Eddie felt so different to you.  Even though the nerves of a first date had really freaked you out the night before, this morning was fairly calm.  Sure, you took plenty of time in the shower and doing your hair and makeup, but it didn’t feel like you were trying to morph into a different version of yourself to please a man. 

It felt more like you were trying your best to look like your favorite version of yourself. 

You want Eddie to know who you are inside and outside of work, and you really hope that he likes what he finds. 

-

Eddie stays parked outside of your house for a minute or two to try and settle his nerves.  

You lived in a small, red brick house in a family neighborhood.  There were flowers planted in the beds under your windows, and your front door was painted a deep turquoise color.  Eddie sucks in a breath when he sees your figure moving around through the gauzy white curtains covering your windows.  

How can a hazy silhouette still be so beautiful?

Looking into his rearview mirror, Eddie takes a deep breath.

“You got this man.  Be cool.”

He turns his car off and makes his way to your front door, knocking three times and then taking a step back to wait for you.

It takes all of two seconds for your front door to swing open, revealing you on the other side.

Eddie immediately feels weak in the knees.  You looked so cute in your little boots, and he couldn’t help but to let his eyes trail up the smooth skin of your legs.  He gulped a bit at the short hem of your dress, and then realized he should probably say something.

“Hey you.”

“Hi,” You smile up at him bashfully as he looks you up and down.  You take the opportunity to look him over as well, and damn.  You already knew he was sexy, but his tight tee shirt and pulled back hair made you want to drag him into your house and do things to him…

You only notice that he’s been holding a hand behind his back when he brings it out in front of him, revealing a beautiful bouquet of flowers.  

“These are for you.  I didn’t know which was your favorite, so I just asked the lady to throw together a bunch of different kinds and to make it look pretty.”  Eddie holds the colorful bouquet out to you and smiles sheepishly.  

Your mouth hangs open as you reach out to take them, being so careful for no real reason.  You look up at Eddie with those big, sparkling eyes.

“Thank you so much, Eddie.  These are so incredibly beautiful,” he watches you looking down at the flowers, gently brushing your fingers against their petals.  “Let me run inside and find a vase for them real quick.  Come on in!”

You wave him in behind you and hurry inside.

Eddie tries to suppress the excitement he feels at being invited into your home.  He felt like he already got a good glimpse at who you are and how you express yourself when he was inside your classroom, but he’s now getting to see where you spend the majority of your time, where you live.  As he steps over the threshold and into your house, he readies his brain to take mental pictures of everything he sets his eyes on, just in case he never sees it again.

Instantly, he’s hit with a sense of “home.”  The inside of your house is the perfect temperature and it smells so good and womanly, like your perfume and also like you’ve been baking something but somehow also like flowers…Eddie loves it already.

You scurry off into the kitchen, trying not to think about the fact that Eddie Munson is looking around your house right now.

Where in the hell have all of your vases run off to?

Eddie walks around cooly with his hands clasped behind his back, taking in everything about your space.  Much like your classroom, Eddie is able to spot at least four different sized lamps and light fixtures placed around your entryway and living room.  There were warm white Christmas lights hung up along the ceiling, multiple green-leaved plants in different corners, and Eddie even thinks he spotted a black cat sprinting under your soft looking white sectional.

Overall, he’d give your interior design skills an 11/10. 

He’s just starting to miss you a little when you come out from your kitchen holding your flowers in a sparkly glass vase.  

It’s an odd feeling, seeing Eddie in your house.  His ‘edgier’ look seems like it wouldn’t fit with your overall aesthetic, but to your surprise he looks like he belongs here.  You walk up to him almost in a daze, admiring the silver hoop earrings he’s wearing, the smile on his lips, and the way some of his hair has made its way out of his low bun to frame his face.  

The two of you stand there for a moment looking at each other, with you holding your flowers in between your bodies.  You engage in a staring match for almost a second too long before you break the silence.

“No one’s ever gotten me flowers before,” you sheepishly admit, looking down at them instead of at him.  Eddie grins at the blush that blooms onto your cheeks after your prolonged eye contact.

Eddie scoffs before he can stop himself.

“Seriously?  That’s a damn shame, sweetheart.”

You look up at him again and try not to faint at how easily the word fell from his perfect lips.  Unable to take another second of his eyes on yours, you retreat into your living room to find the perfect place for your new flowers.  You decide to put them on your coffee table, then turn around to find that Eddie had followed you in.  

He offers his arm out to you, “Shall we?”

This time, you can’t fight the smile.

You take his arm and swipe your purse from the coat hanger next to your front door on your way out.

-

Eddie was the perfect gentleman for the entire duration of the car ride to IKEA.  He had opened the car door for you, he let you pick the music, and he definitely did not sneak a glimpse at your bare, voluminous thighs when your dress shifted as you sat down.  The sweet smell of your perfume spread throughout the interior of his truck, he hopes that smell never fades away.

He couldn’t help glancing over at you every other minute, looking so beautiful in his passenger seat while you bobbed your head to whatever song you had queued up on his phone. 

“Would it be a total invasion of privacy if I played your On Repeat playlist?  I’m dying to know what the music teacher’s favorite music is right now.”  Eddie turned to see that you were smiling pleadingly at him, and how could he say no to that face?

“I suppose,” Eddie sighs dramatically.  “But, you are not allowed to judge me for whatever pops up.”  He playfully points a finger at you while keeping his eyes on the road.  You giggle girlishly.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You hit ‘shuffle’ on Eddie’s playlist and aren’t surprised when the first song that plays through the speakers is ‘The Unforgiven ll’ by Metallica.  You already knew Eddie was a fan of the band thanks to the music he always has playing a tad too loudly whenever you pass by his classroom.

“Oh, I know this song!”

Eddie’s face whips towards you sporting a shocked ‘you’ve gotta be kidding me’ expression.  He was definitely expecting you to be the ‘indie music’ type.  Your eyebrows furrow adorably angrily at the look on his face.  

“What?  A girl can’t like Metallica?” You fix him with a look that tells Eddie he should think twice about his response.

“W-well…I just didn’t expect you to be into them…that’s all.”  You roll your eyes playfully at him and cross your arms.  “But!  I’m very pleasantly surprised that you are!  Girls rule, alright?  Men like…totally suck and stuff.”

You chuckle at his frantic attempt at avoiding a lecture on gender inequality and feminism while settling back into your seat.  And because you actually do know and love this song, you start mouthing the words, which eventually evolves into singing them under your breath.

When Eddie thought he spotted you mouthing the words out of the corner of his eye, he was sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  But just barely hearing you singing the words to his favorite Metallica song just further confirmed a fact that he already knew.

Eddie Munson was totally going to fall in love with you.

The rest of the car ride consisted of sharing music, talking about work and life, childhood memories, and other random topics.  Eddie discovered that you love thunderstorms, your cat’s name is Pascal (after the chameleon from Tangled), and that you moved here at the beginning of summer from Chicago.

Eddie swears there’s never been a conversation in history that flowed as well as yours and his.  He felt like he’s known you for years, and he hopes you’re feeling the same way.

You totally are.

-

Once the two of you made it to IKEA and inside the giant store, Eddie quickly realized that he never really put any thought into what he actually wanted to buy for his classroom.  You swiftly came to his rescue and pulled out your phone to open up Pinterest.

Together, you found a couple pictures that matched the general vibe of Eddie’s classroom.  He grabbed a map of the store and a cart, and set off into the maze of furniture.  

You were back to being shy again, now that you were out in the wild with Eddie.  He found that making jokes about all of the funny names got you giggling, and so he didn’t miss an opportunity.

He made you laugh the hardest next to the Koppang drawers.

You bumped your shoulder into his around the Baggebo bookcases.

His hand brushed yours next to a Tornviken kitchen island. 

And Eddie finally worked up the courage to hold your hand next to a Klippan loveseat.

You gasped a little when you felt his warm hand slide into yours, interlocking your fingers together.  A red hot blush worked its way up your neck as you snuck a glance over at him, only to find that he was already looking at you with a smirk.  He knows exactly what this hand holding is doing to you.

He chuckles smugly as the two of you arrive at the lights section of the store.  As he pushes the cart through the aisles, you’re enamored by the twinkling lights that are draped overhead.  You’re lucky he’s holding your hand, or else you probably would’ve fallen flat on your face.  Eddie can’t help but to stare at you as you stare up at all the different light fixtures.  The different colors and hues of light shine beautifully onto your face, and the soft smile on your lips makes Eddie wish he could just grab you and kiss you right here in the aisle.  But, he figures that would cause you to explode after your reaction to his hand-holding.

He watches as you look further down the aisle at the lamps that are on display there, your face lighting up in recognition.

“Oh!  That’s one that I’ve got in my room!”  You point at an orange, donut shaped light called a Varmblixt.  Eddie recognizes it, you do indeed have one hanging on the wall behind your desk.

“I must have it,” Eddie says with a flourish ,”Never have I seen a more extraordinary donut lamp.”

You giggle and go to grab one to place in the cart, but the box proves to be way heavier than you remember.  Eddie notices as soon as you inhale to exert more effort, and he steps in immediately. 

 No fair maiden such as you should be forced to exert any effort whatsoever in his presence.

“I’ve got it, sweetheart.”

You try not to let the name affect you but once again, you fail.  You’re left blushing and biting your lip, speechless.  You stare unashamed at Eddie as he picks up the heavy box and goes to place it in the cart with ease.  The overhead lights were really doing him favors, every ridge and contour of his body was lit to perfection.  You could see the delicious bulge of his biceps, the ripple of his forearm muscles, and the outline of his chest in his shirt….why is your mouth watering?

Eddie easily places the box in the cart, turning to face you again.  He finds you blushing up at him with wide eyes, and is unable to contain the smug smirk on his face.  The sudden lack of distance between the two of you did not go unnoticed by him, he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest.

The ‘normal you’ would’ve noticed that you were obviously in Eddie’s personal bubble, and you would’ve taken a step back like the respectable adult that you are.  But the ‘normal you’ was long gone in Eddie’s presence.  This version of you was not unlike the version that existed when you were an awkward teenager who was on the brink of passing out anytime a boy even breathed in your direction. 

While you were busy ogling Eddie’s physique, you’d failed to notice the close proximity between the two of you, which led you to your current situation.  

You and him were so close together, you could feel the warm puffs of air from between his parted lips gently hitting your face.  His gaze trailed down from your eyes to your lips, but you wouldn’t have noticed anyways because you were one step ahead of him.

His lips looked so pillowy and soft, you wondered how they’d feel pressed against yours.  Would he kiss you slowly, gently holding your face in his big hands and brushing his thumbs along the apples of your cheeks?  Or would he be rougher than that, grabbing you by the waist and tugging you into him, kissing you with fire and passion?

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow as he watches you suck your bottom lip into your mouth to bite it.  You’re so goddamn beautiful, and you looked like an angel in this aisle of lights.  A lamp from behind you lights up the silhouette of your hair like a halo, and he can see the lights above his head reflected in your eyes like stars.  

Eddie knows he shouldn’t kiss you right now, not in the middle of IKEA where he can hear kids whining to their parents and couples arguing over which shade of beige would match their living room better.  He knows this, but he can’t stop himself from reaching his hand up to gently grasp your jaw.  His thumb slides from your chin to your bottom lip, tugging it free from your teeth.

His hand snakes down to the side of your neck, and you can feel the slight tremor in his hand.  You’re glad that the situation is affecting him too, because you are freaking out.  

Is he going to kiss you right now?  

In IKEA?

On your first date? 

Is this even a date?  

Do you even want him to kiss you?  Idiot, of course you want him to.

Eddie’s eyebrows lift slightly, almost questioning you.  Asking you, ‘Do you want this? Is this okay?’

You answer him with a soft smile, and you feel his hand move behind your neck to pull you in.

It is at this moment that a baby starts to wail one aisle over, effectively ruining any sort of moment you and Eddie had been sharing.

He lets out a frustrated huff, and touches his forehead to yours with closed eyes.  

“Of course,” he groans.

You’re secretly giddy at the fact that he so obviously wanted to kiss you badly.  You bring your hand up to his arm that’s still resting on your neck to give it a reassuring squeeze, and in a surprising burst of confidence, you rise up on your toes to peck him on the cheek.

Eddie’s eyes shoot open at the feeling of your soft lips on his cheek.  He pulls back to stare down at you as his face turns red.

You giggle at him, then turn around to walk down the aisle.

“C’mon, I think I saw another one of my lamps down this way!”

Eddie snaps himself out of his daze with a shake of his head, he’s sure that he’s got hearts in his eyes as he watches you walk away from him.  Grabbing the cart with one hand, he holds his other gently to his cheek, touching the spot that’s still warm from your lips.

-

Eddie ends up purchasing five lamps from IKEA after an hour and a half of wandering through the aisles with you.  

He can’t help but to act like the loverboy he is when he’s looking at furniture with you.  He fantasizes about a life with you, imagining that the two of you are actually here to pick out items to furnish your shared house.  

He wonders which kind of wood floors you’d pick out and which backsplash you’d want in the kitchen.  You’d probably want to decorate with colorful rugs and throw pillows, and Eddie wouldn’t complain.  Not as long as you’re happy.   He’d live in a pink house decorated with bows and lace trim as long as he was living in it with you.  

Maybe he’s getting ahead of himself, it’s only your first date together right?

If only he knew you were having similar thoughts as you strolled up and down the aisles, hand in hand.  You thought about what kind of decorating he did in his house, you figured it was styled in some way considering the amount of effort he puts into making his classroom look as cool as it does.  Does he have shelves full of records or different posters framed and hung up on his wall?  Which side of the bed does he sleep on?  You hope he likes plants, there’s no way you could part with your beloved greenery if the two of you were to live together.

You’re quick to silence the random thoughts buzzing around in your head, it’s silly to think about these things on your very first date…you don’t even know his middle name yet!

You and Eddie both seem to snap out of your stupors at the same time, sighing simultaneously.  You both turn to look at each other and then begin to laugh, unsure on whether or not the ‘jinx’ rules apply in a sighing situation.  

-

Eddie pays for the lights, and soon enough you’re both back in his truck.  

It dawns on you that your date is almost over, but you’re quickly redirected when you hear the starting notes to the next song that starts playing when Eddie’s phone connects to his radio.

Is that…Taylor Swift?

You turn to him slowly, confused at why a Taylor Swift song is on his ‘On Repeat’ Spotify playlist.

Eddie’s already staring at you mortified.  He holds a hand up, pausing any words that might’ve come out of your mouth.

“Before you say anything,” he begins ,”I really admire her lyricism.  Girl’s a wizard with words.”

The two of you sit in a charged silence for a moment before you can’t hold in your reaction any longer.  A laugh breaks free from your chest, and Eddie can’t  help but to laugh along with you.

You’re wiping tears from your eyes as your laughter dies down, and Eddie just grins at you.

“I can’t believe it.  The rock and roll music teacher listens to enough Taylor Swift for it to end up on his ‘On Repeat’ playlist.”  You shake your head at him with a wide smile on your face that Eddie wants to take a picture of and frame.  

“Yeah, yeah…laugh it up.  As a music teacher, it’s my duty to appreciate all types of music.”

You nod along to his explanation, “Yes, of course.  How else are you supposed to connect with the teenage girls these days?”

“Right! Yes!”  Eddie exclaims.  “I do this lesson on lyrics and Taylor’s music is a great example of what storytelling in music can look like.  I respect her, hard.”

You stifle another laugh at his emotional Taylor Swift themed outburst.

“This stays between you and I alright?” Eddie points a finger at you playfully.  “If Harrington gets word of this I’ll never live it down.”

“Of course, my lips are sealed.”  You mime zipping your lips shut and throwing away the key.

Eddie settles back into his seat with a huff, boyishly smiling over at you.

“I have a very important question for you Eddie.”

He leans in, intrigued by your seriousness. 

“Which era are you in right now?”

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back with a groan.  This sends you into another laughing fit, Eddie can’t help but to join in again.  He’s coming to find out that your joy is such an infectious thing.

“Hmm let’s see…,” he muses.  He turns to look at you with one hand on the wheel and a smirk on his face as he puts his keys in the ignition.  

“Right now…I’d have to go with ‘Lover,’” he says with a wink.

Your laughter is cut off abruptly as you gasp and bite your lip, attempting to subdue the cheesy grin that’s surely made its way onto your face by now.  

You stare unashamed as Eddie puts his right hand over the back of your seat to turn around and look through the rear window as he reverses the car out of its parking spot.  You can smell the cologne he must’ve sprayed on this morning, which immediately awakens the butterflies in your stomach.

As soon as Eddie is set on the route back to your house, he holds out his hand expectantly over his center console.  You look at it, then at him, then back at his hand before shyly placing your hand in his.  He’s quick to lace his fingers through yours, holding on tight and running his thumb back and forth.

You’re both thinking that you could get used to this.

-

Eddie (reluctantly) only lets go of your hand in order to rush around the front of his truck to open your car door for you after he’s pulled into your driveway.  He’s quiet as he walks you to your front door, wondering which way is the best way to ask you out on another date.  

You stop when you reach your door, looking down at your hand in his.  The silence begins to feel just a tad awkward as you both search for something to fill it.

“Thank you,” you start quietly ,”for today.  I had a wonderful time.”

Eddie lets out a relieved breath and grins widely down at you.

“I did too,” he begins, readying himself for his next question.  “Would you…I mean–would you like to…uh…shit, would you want to maybe do it again sometime?”

You know what he means, but it’s still so tempting to tease him when he’s blushing like this.

“Would I want to go to IKEA with you again?”

“N-no!  I mean, if you wanted to we could I guess…b-but I was thinking something more along the lines of dinner?”

You find it adorable how nervous he is to ask you out on a second date, as if you wouldn’t agree to go out to dinner with him tonight.

“I’d love that.”

Eddie’s face lights up with a triumphant smile as he lets out the anxious breath he’d been holding in.  

“Good, that’s really good.”  The way you’re smiling up at him right now is causing him to lose his train of thought.  “Um…how’s tomorrow night?  Around 7?”

“Tomorrow night is perfect.”

“Awesome.  Great, yeah I’ll just…I’ll pick you up, okay?”

You’re beaming as you nod your head, much too ecstatic at the idea of going out with Eddie again to form a coherent sentence.

Eddie finds himself smiling and nodding with you, you’re just too adorable. 

“Hey could I uh…c-could I get your number?” Eddie stammers the question out like he’s a prepubescent teenager, mentally face palming the whole time.

He’s relieved when you chuckle and hold your hand out for him to place his phone in.  He fumbles around trying to give you his phone as quickly as possible, he can’t believe how nervous he feels right now. 

He finally somehow manages to pass over his phone with a new contact page pulled up and ready for you.  You type in your number and name, making sure to add the artist’s palette emoji afterwards.  Eddie laughs through his nose when he sees it, then pockets his phone again.  

There’s a weird tension in the air that can only be brought upon by two people who so obviously want to kiss each other, but are too nervous to make the first move.  Eddie wracks his brain for a way to ask you if it’d be okay for him to kiss you without looking like a total idiot.  It’s really unfortunate that the way you bite your lip causes his mind to completely shut off and switch to autopilot.  

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” he blurts out.

You look up at him, shocked at his bluntness.  Eddie’s even more shocked than you are.

“Y-you probably should then,” you bashfully admit.

Eddie can’t believe that worked.

He steps towards you and softly places one hand on your cheek, the other going to gently grasp the side of your neck similarly to the way he had in IKEA during your almost-kiss.

Your eyes flutter closed as you feel his lips graze yours for the first time.  The feeling is electrifying, and you can’t help but to venture forward for more.  

Your lips were just as soft, if not softer, than Eddie imagined. 

You plunge forward to press your lips against his, instantly deepening the kiss.  Eddie found himself instantly addicted to the feel of your lips and the way you sigh into the kiss.  It’s a shy kiss at first, where the two of you slowly begin to figure out your shared rhythm.  But it wasn’t long before you sank into a synchronized dance, mirroring each other’s movements in a way that crafted the most perfect, earth shattering first kiss.  

You let Eddie Munson kiss you at your front door in a way that you had longed to be kissed for your entire life.  This was how the women you saw in movies or read about in books were kissed.  You’d read about magic and sparks flying, and you think you’re finally starting to believe in all of it.  

Eddie moves his hand from your cheek to your waist, gripping it and pulling you closer to him.  The gasp you let out gave him the sweet opportunity to run his tongue against your bottom lip, asking, pleading for an entrance which you of course granted.  You tasted like autumn and felt like home, he decided he could kiss you for hours on end.

You both stood there for a good five minutes at your front door, making out like giddy teenagers and feeling like them too.  Eddie finally pulls away from your lips, pleased to find you subtly chasing his mouth with your own.  You open your eyes and come out of your kiss-induced haze to find him smiling adoringly down at you with both hands now circling your waist.  

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“Actually, I’m gonna call you tonight.”  He kisses you again.  “Is that okay?”  Another peck.

You're giggling as he places a final kiss on your forehead, “Yes, please.”

“Good.”

Eddie steps back, grabbing your hand to kiss it like he did on Tuesday.  He pulls you back in with that same hand to plant one last kiss on your lips, then jogs back to his truck.  He waves and quickly honks his horn twice as he pulls away.  

You’re left standing at your front door, watching his truck disappear down your street and reliving every moment of your first kiss with Eddie Munson.

When you finally make your way inside, you make sure to smell your brand new beautiful flowers before scurrying off to your bedroom to pick out an outfit for your second date with Eddie tomorrow night.  

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[scoops-aboy86]

Music teacher Eddie and student Steve.

Like, someone told Steve that marching band is easy credits, and he’s athletic. His parents made him take piano and clarinet lessons as a kid. Clarinet is a pretty easy instrument to march with; not too heavy, doesn’t have to hold it at a crazy straight angle like flutes or most of the brass instruments. He’s not a great musician or anything, but it doesn’t hurt his feelings if he ends up with 3rd or 4th part. The halftime shows are fun and he was never really into playing football so it’s not like he’s missing out on anything; this way, he still gets to watch the games. Sure, the trade off is having to sit in stupid concert band for the second half of the year, but only half; any other elective would be for the full haul. And it definitely doesn’t hurt that the new band director his senior year, Mr. Munson, is the youngest teacher on staff and brimming with infectious energy. The kind of guy you can tell used to be stick thin before his teenage metabolism kicked the bucket, and now he’s got kind of a belly and a sweet tooth that everyone knows about. A lot of the band girls have a huge crush on him, so he gets a lot of apples and also a lot of baked goods left on his desk, and he lets students call him by his first name, and he’s always down to soak up flattery—with a grain of salt. Steve has never once seen him flirt back; his best friend, Robin in the trumpet section, can confirm.

It’s not until accompanying Robin on her first venture into the gay bar in the next or two town over (with fake IDs, obviously) that Steve figures out why. Robin is absorbed in talking to a pretty redhead, and Steve has just bought himself a beer when someone bumps into him hard enough that he drops it.

“Shit, sorry about that!” says Mr. Munson. And usually, at school, he sticks to black slacks and plain shirts, but here? Form-fitting jeans that are more rip than black denim and well-worn band shirts that were probably bigger on him years ago, but now are on the tighter side. Hair loose instead of tied back, and he’s wearing eyeliner.

Steve, who can’t stop staring, has never really seen what all the girls do in the guy before, but now he gets it. And so can Mr. Munson. Eddie.

The double take when he recognizes Steve as a student is pretty priceless, and Steve can’t help messing with him, smirking a little while saying, “So this is what you’re doing instead of grading our music theory tests.”

And, well. Steve is eighteen. Eddie is in his early twenties. What’s the big deal if he asks a hot older man to dance instead of taking him up on that replacement beer? It’s not like it’ll be for more than once dance. Not like the crowded dance floor jostles them closer together, Eddie flailing a little as he stumbles forward and Steve catches him, faces close and accidentally brushing. Not like they’ll kiss for real a few electric-charged seconds later, or end up in a more out of the way corner making out. And no way would that turn into Eddie turning into a flustered mess any time he makes eye contact with Steve at school, or a series of serupticiously passed notes, or Steve making sure they “accidentally” run into each other more often off campus.

Under no circumstances will they kiss again, or get carried away making out against a dark wall somewhere and both need a change of pants, or go on a tentative date where Eddie doesn’t let Steve do any underage drinking but does let him drive Eddie home and come inside for a coffee. Absolutely zero chance of falling into bed together and each of them confessing to real feelings that only Robin (who constantly makes cradle robbing jokes but is so supportive of Steve that he’d kiss her if it wouldn’t gross both of them out, it’d be like kissing a sibling) knows about until after graduation.

… Right?

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