#musician eddie munson

[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.

[hairmetal666]

Steve doesn't date, not anymore. He goes to bars, clubs, picks people up and makes it clear it's just for the night; that it can't, won't, be for anything more.

He falls too fast and too hard; wants so badly to be loved that he loses himself to it. So, he doesn't date and he's fine. More than fine, actually. Not worrying about finding someone, about falling in love, lets him truly enjoy his life; maybe for the first time since childhood.

He goes with Robin to visit her parents in Hawkins, wakes up at the ass crack of dawn to go for a run. With the sun barely up, he doesn't expect to come face-to-face with Eddie Munson, smoking on a park bench.

They startle each other in the early Hawkins quiet, Eddie jumping hard enough that he drops his cigarette into the dirt at his feet.

"Christ, Harrington!" He snarls a little.

"Fuck, Eddie." Steve fights to catch his breath. "What are you doing out this early?"

He glances up, finds Eddie's eyes raking over this body in a way that makes him go hot all over.

"Haven't been home yet." Eddie smirks. And he can see that's true, Eddie is fully dressed, faint lines of mascara trail across his cheeks.

"Had a show?"

"Something like that." Eddie's cheeks pink, and he pulls a chunk of hair over his face.

Understanding dawns, and Steve points at him, delighted laugh bubbling in his throat.

"Don't--"

"You had an all night Hellfire meeting?" Steve cackles.

"Shut--Harrington, shut-up." But he's smiling too. "I'm in town this weekend. Dustin insisted!"

"You can tell him no, you know?" Steve giggles.

"Like you ever could."

Eddie stands then, and they hug, quick and tight. He practically crumbles into his friend's body, but then, that's nothing new. Steve breathes him in, immediately comforted by the familiarity of tobacco and leather and sweat and weed.

"I'm at Rob's. Come say hi?"

Eddie nods and they trek back together. They kept in touch, after Vecna, and their chatting is easy, like it's not been six months since the last time.

Eddie stays for breakfast tells them with a smile, "I was gonna call but--I'm moving to Chicago. That's why I'm crashing at Wayne's for now, stopped on the way--"

The rest of his words are smothered by the force of Steve and Robin's hug, Steve's heart beating an elated rhythm he doesn't bother investigating.

--

When Eddie makes it to town, they hang out as constantly as an adult with a day job and a touring musician can. It's nice, good, to see Eddie sitting on their couch. To watch him smoke a joint on the balcony. To hangout in his bed as he works on new music. It's just like the summer of '86, before they all went off to find their futures.

They're closer than they've ever been. Crashing at each other's apartments, sharing clothes, meeting for coffee and drinks and meals. There's not a day or night when they're free that they don't spend together.

Steve knows he's falling for Eddie; was halfway there already, and now--well, Eddie's beautiful and funny and smart and talented. He doesn't make a move, though. Because Eddie'll leave, like they all do, and losing Eddie will crush him more than anyone else ever has.

--

In June, Eddie's gone for a month, touring across the midwest. The day he's expected back, Steve's in the kitchen, rolling up fresh pasta, simmering sauce on the stove.

Robin stomps in, eyes flashing. "What are you doing?"

"Making dinner?" Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Steve."

"Robin."

They glare at each other across the kitchen. Steve breaks first. "What's wrong with making our friend dinner?"

"I don't want either of you to get hurt."

Steve freezes, swallows. "I'm not--I'm--I wouldn't."

"Just. Promise you'll be careful?"

He nods, squeezes his hands into fists. "Course, Rob."

And he means it, he really does, but when Eddie lets himself in, Steve runs to the doorway to pull his friend into a tight hug.

Eddie huffs out a burst of air on impact, laughing lightly. "Miss me, sweetheart?"

"So much," Steve whispers. He presses his nose into Eddie's neck, breathing him in, and he doesn't miss the way a kiss is pressed into his hair, the way Eddie's breathing him in too.

They fall into their natural rhythm immediately, Eddie following him to the kitchen, cooing and posturing that Steve made him dinner.

As Steve serves up the food, Eddie wraps his arms around his waist, leaning against his back. God help him, but Steve can't help relax into the hold, turning his head until their eyes meet.

Desire bleeds from Eddie's gaze, and Steve's breath hitches. He wants this so badly, knows he shouldn't, but he lets himself lean in until they share air.

But--he can't lose Eddie. He can't.

He turns away, lets the moment die. Eddie doesn't stay over that night, and Steve pretends like it doesn't make his stomach hurt.

--

They aren't as close after that.

Steve keeps telling himself it's because they're busy. The school year's starting up, Steve's got lesson plans to write; Eddie made an EP, it got interest, he's taking meetings in New York and LA. It's okay that they're spending less time together.

Until Eddie stops returning his calls.

He tries not to worry. But one call becomes two, becomes three, and he can't help it. He goes over, dread a knot in his stomach. Eddie opens the door, and he's shirtless with sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair loose and streaming around his shoulders. He looks happy.

"Steve? What are you--"

"You weren't answering my calls, and--can I come in?"

Eddie winces. "It's not a good time, Harrington."

He stands there for a second, stung, not sure what to say.

"Eddie, I--"

"Babe?" A voice calls from inside the apartment. "Who's at the door?"

Steve freezes. Can't think, can't move. He hopes it isn't obvious that his heart is shattering, but Eddie's blinking at him, panic written in the lines gathering on his forehead.

"Steve, Stevie, please," Eddie is saying, but he can't do this. He can't do this.

He walks away, all the way home, numb to everything around him.

The phone's ringing when he gets to the apartment. He ignores it. Goes to his room, locks himself in, crawls into bed.

The phone keeps ringing. He keeps ignoring it.

It isn't supposed to be like this. They weren't dating, weren't trying for a relationship; Eddie's supposed to be his. He curls into himself, sobs until his ribs hurt, until his eyes are as heavy as his heart, and he falls asleep.

--

Steve startles awake, disoriented, to someone knocking on his bedroom door. He has no idea what time it is, how long he slept, but he expects Robin to be waiting in the hall.

It's Eddie. Hair in a messy bun, face flushed, eyes too bright.

"I'm sorry," falls out of Steve's mouth before he can think of anything else.

"Steve, I--I don't--" Eddie shakes his head. "Do you want to be in a relationship with me?"

"Yes," Steve whispers. "But I can't lose you, Eddie."

Eddie reaches out, slender hand, cupping Steve's jaw. "I need you to really listen when I say this, sweetheart. You will never, ever lose me. Not a chance."

"You can't know that," Steve says. Tears break free, cascade down his cheeks. "I used to think who could ever leave me? You know, back before Nancy. But I realized that actually no one would stay. And I can't--with you I can't--"

"Sweetheart," Eddie chokes on a sob. "I'm yours. Have been for years. I will never, ever leave you, no matter what we are to each other. But I can't be in some of a relationship with you. You have me wrapped around your finger, and I--I need it all, Steve."

"I want you to have it, Eddie." He presses his hand to his heart. "This belongs to you, but I--I couldn't survive you leaving."

"I would stay, Steve. I will. I promise on everything I have, everything I am, that you would never, ever lose me."

Steve stumbles into Eddie's arms, totally gone, and their mouths meet in a clumsy kiss. It wrecks Steve, tears him apart, renders him down to his smallest parts only to build him back together. He knows now for certain that there is no one else in the world for him.

They break apart, but don't move out of each other's orbit. "I love you," Steve whispers.

"Stevie, sweetheart, I love you more than anything." His fingers wind their way into Steve's hair, gentle, holding him. "I promise you'll have me for forever--fuck, longer than forever. My soul will find yours wherever we end up. I swear it."

[kitchen-spoon]

Steddie strangers to lovers. They meet because they commute on the same train everyday. Eddie has the NYT crossword and he does it everyday. One day after 2 months of them riding together he asks steve for his help.

Eddie’s like ‘u look smart what do u think?’ And Steve who has been told he is an idiot or stupid or dumb every day of his life is like “its just the suit I’m not good at smart stuff like that.”

And Eddie is like ‘no way I bet you can help with the sports section at least. I mean look at me, if we’re going off stereotypes I’m hopeless.” It get’s Steve to blush and he cracks and helps.

Everyday after that they do the puzzle together, Steve eventually helping outside of just the sports section so Eddie can prove to him just how smart he knows he is.

[edzmunson86]

Wanna listen to my music, sweet cheeks?

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

Famous!Oblivious!Steddie Modern AU

Where Steve and Eddie are both famous, but neither have heard of each other: Eddie is famous with his metal band and that’s just not Steve’s scene; Steve is a famous basketball player and Eddie has never voluntarily watched a sport in his life

And they meet when they both going incognito somewhere and think the other is not famous and they’re immediately attracted to each other and hit it off great and keep seeing each other. And they both want to have private dates so neither question each others excuses much.

They only figure it out several months in, after they’re photographed together and the internet blows up about *Steve Harrington* and *Eddie Munson* dating

[crookedteethed]

MORESAL of praise | e.m.

Pairing: Up-and-coming Musician!Eddie Munson x Girlfriend Musician reader

Warning: 18+ Cursing, Smut (p in v), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Reader is intimidated by Eddie's size, Praise kink, Pet names, cockwarming, Eddie being a tool, barely proofread, reader and Eddie are both in their mid-twenties, From y/n perspective

Word count: 2.7k

Divider cred → @saradika-graphics

There's a squeak to my door that needs fixing, and a water leak somewhere that needs tending.

I asked my tenant to fix it, but he tells me: "This is what you get when you pay $300 a month."

The Luminary, home of musicians trying to live for cheap.

I sit my guitar case on the creaking floors, and kick off my ten-hut boots.

My apartment had been cold. A dull gray atmosphere manifested itself not only due to the cold weather outside but also the poor insulation through my apartment walls.

The door to my room was slightly cracked and I noticed between the lines of static silence were the faint sounds of acoustic strings.

I opened the door. In my room, there was one dim lamp light lit. It shined a yellow hue on my boyfriend, who sat on the edge of my bed. Eddie had been playing his black acoustic guitar--the one he wrote "This machine slays dragons" in white paint on, his notebook he often wrote in laid open next to him, a black ink pen between the margins of the notebook.

He doesn't look up at me when I tell him "Hi."

His concentration was on the nylon strings of his acoustic guitar as he mutters an "Oh, hey." back.

My boyfriend looked beautiful at the moment, inattentive, yet beautiful. The warm yellow tone reflected his pallor skin, strands of his thick curly hair tucked behind his ear, and a brown celluloid guitar pick between his teeth. Somewhat of a Vermeer painting.

I walk over to my dresser.

"Sorry, I'd broken in." Eddie says. "I needed to be somewhere quiet, my roommates wouldn't give me that." The roommates that had also doubled as Eddies bandmates.

"It's okay." I say, while shimming out of my black satin skirt. "I was going to ask if you wanted to come over tonight anyway."

My skirt falls to the floor, it pools around my ankles. Next to come off is my stockings, then my shirt, and lastly my bra.

I catch Eddies eyes lingering on my bareback as I fish for something I can sleep in. My hands pick a shirt that said "Margaritaville" and was four sizes too big.

When I turn back around to Eddie, he's back to strumming a random chord then he writes it down in his notebook.

In the small bathroom that connected to my bedroom, I don't look myself in the mirror when I take off my panties and throw them into the hamper.

Now getting into bed, I crawled over to where Eddie sat, sitting behind him on the weight of my knees.

Eddie had seemed to form some sort of a strumming pattern with his song, but he didn't seem to like the sound of it by the harsh glare he gave his guitar.

"It sounds pretty." I assure him.

He lets out a low mumble that sounds like a "Thank you."

"Thinking about playing it to the guys, play it at our audition at Beacon records, maybe?"

I hum as I slowly walked on my knees, my calloused hands gripping his bare shoulders. "Mmm-hmm," I say as he kept speaking, but I was too busy stroking his hair to fathom anything he was saying.

I lean in closer to his body, enveloping myself in his warmth.

My boyfriend: the thermal.

I bring my lips to his neck, and in one long hard suck, I kiss the flesh. His reaction is what catches me off guard.

"Babe." he turns to me, he stares at me with the same glare he gave his guitar. "I'm almost done." He continued. "Then we can do whatever you want."

The music continues.

My bottom lip start to poke out, and I probably would've started to cry if he was a bit more harsher.

I start to scoot to the head of the bed. "Take as long as you want. I'm going to bed." I tell him.

I get underneath my cold blankets, lay to my side and force myself to sleep (despite not being sleepy).

Suddenly, his strumming stops.

With one eye opened, I peak at him (out of curiosity). I squeeze both my eyes shut when I feel Eddie get up from the bed, his bones cracking in the mitts.

He leans his guitar on the wall, and places his closed notebook on the bedside table.

We accidentally make eye contact when he turns off the lamp light, I squeeze my eyes in a haste, but l feel the smirk on his lips illuminating in the darkness of my room.

Eddie then slips underneath the covers beside me, his clipped nails and rough hands graze the plush of my slender hips. I feel his smirked lips kiss the dip of my shoulder blade.

"I'm trying to sleep." I mumble.

"No you're not." He says, breathing on the nape of my neck.

I feel Eddie's muscular hands turn me over by the shoulders. When we're face to face I get a glimpse of his shadow covered face, alabaster skin darker then normal.

Eddie traces a finger over the line of my jaw and pulled my body tight to his chest. His body heat makes me feel less cold. Eddie brings a warmness to me that spreads from my temples, to my limps and it makes me melt like ice cream on a midsummer day's night.

"You're freezing." he states.

My lips part as his thump soothes the petal skin of my jawline.

"Lemme make you warm. Lemme make up for before, yeah?" He said in that voice I couldn't resist. It's a low, gravelly tone. A tone filled with assurance and leverage.

And though I wanted to roll over and play sleep, I simply couldn't. With sluggish eyes and a parted mouth (due to his thumb playing with my bottom lip) I found myself nodding to Eddie's words.

As Eddie crawls on top of me, I combed my fingers through his thick dark curls. Eddie's the one to close the gap between our mouths.

The kiss begins with the utmost tenderness. It was long enough that I could inhale his breath, feel the warmness of his skin, and tasted the last thing that lingered on his lips (the celluloid guitar pick).

But, with the hunger of a starving man, Eddie deepens the kiss. I responded to him with a low mewl between the gnawing and the suckling.

When I feel Eddie's hand snake to where our cores met, I stopped him.

He hovers over me with concerning eyes, and red-bitten lips.

"Did I do something wron--"

"I want to ride you." I breathlessly say, earning another smirk from him and glint in his eyes.

In a swift motion, Eddie and I switched places, with him now being on the bottom while I was on top. Eddie rests his back on the metallic bars of my headboard. In this position, the moonlight peaking from my curtains had shined on his face, leaving me in the shadows.

I start to adjust myself by bunching the hem of my shirt around my waist; Eddie adjusts himself by lifting his weight to pull down his boxers, and that's when I feel it.

I feel the warmth that radiates from his cock to my wet slit. His tip nearly meshing with my clit.

Eddie's cock had had a slight curved mushroom shape to it with a hefty girth to it as well, with three large straining veins running along the side of it.

His reddening tip spewed drops of clear pre-cum that leaked down from his dick and to my thighs.

I gawked at his cock, with slightly parted lips.

Oh, how I yearned for Eddie to be inside of me all day. During my yearning, Eddie was on top. It occurred to me then that I'd never ridden Eddie before. Eddie is always the one to do the penetrating.

My eyes met with his, a devious look in his deep, earthy brown eyes.

"Sorry." I mutter.

Eddie looks at me with a condescending grin as I lift myself up by my knees. I give a few tugs to his cock, before aligning his length to my entrance.

I feel the supple wetness of my cunt drip down my thighs and onto the puddle of Eddie's pre-cum that resides there, as I inch him closer to me.

It was either the intimidation or excitement in my lower belly that lead me to stop.

"Can you help me?" I mumble.

"What?" Eddie says, cuffing his hand behind his ear. Whatta prick.

"You heard me." I said.

"I believe I didn't sweetheart, you were mumbling."

He knew for a fact he heard me; we were so close to one another that I could listen to the fluids swishing around in his belly. But for the sake of it,

"Can you help me?" I repeat, this time loud and clear.

"Ohh, that's what I thought you said." He decides to play dumb, desperation pulls on my face. "Thought you wanted to ride me, huh?"

"I do, but I'm scared it won't fit." I say.

"It fit all those other times." He rebuttals.

"But all those other times weren't like this." I stare deep into his eyes and poke out my bottom lip. "Please, just help me."

"Oh, don't cry sweets, you know I was gonna help ya, y'know." He tells me. "But first, take off your top fr'me."

I comply, watching him watch me take off my "Margaritaville" shirt and discarding it onto the floor.

Now completely bare, I feel my nipples start to pebble at the cool breeze of my apartment.

Eddie's mouth latches onto my left breast like a moth to a flame. I feel his hand give my right breast a firm squeeze. As his lips and tongue revolved around my sensitive buds, the tips of his curls tickled my chest.

"Eds." I gasp, bringing his head closer to my chest as if I were trying to feed him.

In the next moment, he spilled a few drops of saliva on my other nipple and flicked the newly wet nub, and started to suck on the puffy skin.

"Eds, baby, you're doing so good." I moan. Eddie hums in acknowledgment, concentrating on my left nipple like it was his guitar and notebook.

"But please, Eddie, I need you inside of me; I'm dripping here." I whine.

Eddie slowly detaches himself from my right nipple, a string of saliva connecting his lips from my nub. He looks down at the slickness that coats his and my thighs.

"Shit." he curses. He looks at me with those chocolate brown eyes of his, and a look of flattery on his face. "And I didn't even have to touch that little clit of yours to have you dripping like this."

"Eddie, please!"

"Alright, alright." He says. "By the way, y'know you're beautiful when you're all whiney and struggling on me."

Before I can rebuttal, I see Eddie gripping the thick base of his cock; as he brings his tip to my entrance, I bite on my bottom lip out of pure anticipation.

A faint sigh of relief died on our lips as Eddie melded inside me. I let out a shaky gasp at the sudden stretch. For a brief second, I sit on his cock, taking in his size, taking in his heat.

Involuntary, I clench around his girthy length as a response his cock throbs inside of me. I think if we knew morse code, our private parts could have a flirty conversation without each of us knowing; I giggle at this thought.

Eddie wraps his arms tightly around my waist "You got this mama." He pecks the skin of my collarbone.

With doe eyes I slowly nod my head, before slowly starting to grinding my hips onto his.

"That's it, baby, keep going." Eddie praises, looking up at me with such admiration. I start to quicken my pace, feeling my slick and clit coat his torso.

As Eddie's lips ravishes the dip of my neck, he breaths against my skin: "You have no idea how much I want to fuck you right now."

"Then do it." I say. "Fuck me."

And with the quick placement of his large hands groping the plush fat of my waist, Eddie starts to slam my body up and down on his cock in a bouncing motion.

I mewl at his relentless thrust. Groaning every time I feel his ridged cock dragging inside of my gummy walls, I whimper when I feel him graze my sweet-spot, only for him to draw himself back and slam right back into me.

The only sounds to fill the air was skin on skin, hard smacks coming from each time our bodies thrashed.

"Fuckin' shit." Eddie groans. "Look at my girl, taking me so well." Butterflies swarm inside of my belly.

I look down to where Eddie and I connected once again, I see the lips of my cunt touch the base of his cock and then back up to his tip. Eddie fingertips graze the meat of my ass, he gives my cheeks a tight squeeze.

My cup runneth over.

My eyes begin to flutter close. "M'close." I murmured against Eddie's lips. I was tottering on the edge of my climax.

Eddie switches from mercilessly slamming me unto his cock to grinding, rubbing me against him. With the palms of his hands splayed across my ass cheeks, he rubs me closer to him in fast, greedy motions.

"Eds, M'close!" I whine.

"Finish f'me, sweets." He says, voice hoarse like he was on the edge of his climax too.

It was the hoarseness in Eddie's voice, the bead of sweat sloping down the side of his face, and then the delicious feeling of his cock finally bumping into my sweet spot.

A plethora of moans escapes my lips. My back arches at the shockwaves of pleasure that ebbs and flows throughout my body. There's a ripple of orgasmic delight all over. My cunt starts clenching and unclenching around Eddie's cock.

Accompanied with the sounds of our skin slapping is the wet slick coming from my spent cunt.

Lazily, I collapsed into Eddie's chest and bury my face in the croak of his neck, giving him quick little pecks on the hot flesh--my body twitching every now and then.

Eddie still fucks into me.

"Almost there, sweets." he elongates. "You're so good to me." He kisses my cheek. "Always taking me so well in that little cunt of yours, always letting me use you, even when you're on top."

You would think Eddie was talking me through my orgasm, but he was talking him through his, I think his own praised turned him on twice as much.

I start to feel Eddie's cock spasm inside of me. I'm too spent to do anything but pull him tighter to me.

He pushes himself all the way in and stills himself. I feel his cock swell up, and in those two seconds of stillness I can feel just how large Eddie really is.

With each spurt of cum, Eddie's cock pulsates. I feel the warmth and pressure of his cum coating my cervix. With each spurt, Eddie lets out low (gravelly) groans.

Eddie kisses my forehead.

I lay on his chest, listening to the fast paced pumping of his heartbeat. My eyelids start to fall and I start to feel that post-coital weariness.

I try to move myself off of Eddie, but my sore and stiff hips and limps makes it hard.

"What are you doing?" Eddie asks me as I try to move beside him.

"Eddie, I have to get off of you, we can't stay in this position all night." I say.

"Says who?"

And as I snuggled back into Eddie's lap, his semi-hard cock starting to soften inside my warm cunt, I told Eddie he was right.

Who said we couldn't stay enveloped in each other's warmth for the rest of the night? Two lovers wrapped around one another in a cold bed in the cold Luminary. With no money, dead-end jobs, a guitar in hand, and dreams not only of each other but dreams of making a difference someday.

Eddie didn't need to be famous to make a difference in people's lives when he'd already made a difference in mine, my beautiful boyfriend.

[transmunsons]

By some miracle, Eddie graduates on time, moves to Indy, and gets occasional gigs at the dive down the street. The city is good for people like him—lets him blend in—and it’s a hell of a lot easier to get hormones here.

Sometimes the rest of the band joins him to rock out some sabbath, but today it’s just him and the vaguely familiar and very cute bartender who winces if the music gets too loud.

There’s no one else in the bar, but he’s scheduled for another hour and he’s never been one to turn down a captive audience. The bartender is trying to ignore him while he wipes down the countertop.

Eddie breaks out an acoustic cover of a Springsteen song and that finally gets the guy to look his way. He takes a few requests to kill the time. They’re both kinda stuck here, might as well enjoy it.

His name is Steve, and they actually went to the same school. Eddie recalls an incident or two, but, who cares, high school is so petty. They get on like a house fire and at the end of the night, Eddie leaves with a wink and a string of numbers on his hand.

[navnae]

Just thought about every time Eddie walks off stage at an award show Steve runs up with his hands out to help Eddie down the stars. There’s usually these little moments where Steve is helping Eddie fix small details on his outfit before he gets on the red carpet to take pictures and his added touch is never wrong. The internet is full of pictures of Steve taking care of Eddie no matter where he goes and it’s so sweet.

[italiansteebie]

something something singer steve never taking his talent super seriously, he was in choir as a kid but his dad took him out in favor of a more "manly" extracurricular.

the talent never really left him though, he'd always been somewhat musically inclined, able to pick up a guitar and play a basic song and sing along, it always went well with girls. he'd serenade them and that was it. but no one really seemed to take it seriously, so he didn't either.

until eddie munson came along, waxing about his beloved band and how they were "sure to make it big someday." and they were pretty good. until their vocalist up and left, claiming he had a better chance at a solo career. whatever, his loss.

the rest of corroded coffin is at a loss, they need a singer, eddie's lyrics were too good to skip out on, however, none of them could sing. they've tried. it was bad.

they thought about holding auditions but no one wanted to audition for an accused murderer. so gareth stepped up, and tried his best, but if we're being honest, his best wasn't good enough.

so they took their loss. deciding to focus on hell fire rather than corroded coffin bc at least that was fun.

it'd been a few weeks of not playing gigs that they'd heard it. they were in harringtons basement, setting up for the newest campaign, when a gentle voice floated through the room.

"all of my love, oh all of my love, oh all of my love... to you now."

was that steve? no way. he's just a jock, right?

but the look on eddie's face said he'd already had a plan in motion, "let's ask steve!"

"no."

"why noooottttt? he's good!"

steve walks in, "who's good?"

"you are! at singing! why didn't you tell us? you knew we've been out a singer!"

steve scoffs "i'm not a singer, i just... sing along to the radio." corroded coffin scoffs right back, "yeah, well!" they'd gotten on board, how could they not? there was a singer, right here!

so that's how steve became corroded coffins vocalist, in fact, he may have even pushed them over the edge of there local band status to touring band status.

[ent-is-indecisive]

this is me doodling away to a fun lil au @trensu and i were spitballing, as we do. the jist (edited for readability):

blind and frozen by beast in black as a collab song between pop star Steve and metal star Eddie probably started as a publicity stunt. Eddie is abrasive about it at first and Steve's all bitchy.

Steve is writing about his breakup with famous reporter Nancy. It's supposed to be a dumb thing to stir up attention but then Steve starts to pour all his heartbreak into the lyrics they come up with together, and it's sincere, is the thing. Eddie can feel the ache of failed love in every word, watches Steve hurting over this, and watches him with his fans, adult and child alike, and how genuinely happy he is to see them. And Steve tells him that he likes knowing that he can brighten someone's day because life is shitty sometimes and people deserve nice things, and Eddie falls HARD.

Like the first time he sees Steve give an 8yo kid an autograph, Eddie melts because the kid sings him his favorite part of his favorite song and Steve sings along with him and Eddie is DYING. And then he gets to see Steve pull out his bitchy retorts when somebody trys to insult his fans (or maybe he had a young boy fan that was getting called unsavory things for being Steve's fan). Eddie didn't stand a chance really.

So there's all this PINING because Steve is obviously hung up on Nancy and Eddie is nothing like Nancy and the chances of Steve liking dudes are slim at best. But, the song works as catharsis for steve and he realises that he is less and less sad about nancy and on the opposite being slowly restored energy by working/talking to eddie.

Steve starts working on a love song for eddie and how great of a person he is and makes it a surprise either on an album they collab on or at a concert theyre both at. Because the thing about Eddie is that yeah he's nothing like Nancy except for his DRIVE and PASSION which are two traits Steve has always found attractive, doe eyed stubborn nerds make him weak in the knees. And he compares eddie to sunlight and eddie absolutely melts in a puddle when he hears the song which surprises everyone with the personna he usually has. There's an entire verse dedicated to his big doe eyes. (In Steve's album with the love song there's also a more risque song where Steve obsesses a bit over how Eddie works up a sweat on stage, leaving his skin dewy and delicious.)

[red-bat-arse]

Meet Cute in the Metal Pit

Steve didnt know what he was doing here.

Someone brushed past behind him, arm dragging against his back as more people pressed in on all sides, and he kind of frantically pushed out into a less dense area. There was feedback over the speakers as the crew checked the sound system, and he finally spotted Tommy and Carol approaching from the concession stand, a beer apiece carried between them.

Okay, so Steve actually did know exactly what he was doing here.

But playing reluctant designated driver and therefore blatant third wheel on his friends' dates was old hat by now -it started the first time they all went to a high school party and Carol accidentally got handed a cup with a triple shot of vodka instead of a single. Maybe it was better to say that Steve wasnt sure what all three of them were doing here, at this venue specifically, and not at some normal club or sports event or something.

Because they'd invited him last minute to what turned out to be a metal concert, and stranger than that, actually showed up on time instead of bailing completely or waltzing in after Steve was left waiting an hour and a half. Granted, they hadn't actually mentioned the bands by name or the dress code, which meant Steve still stuck out like a sore thumb in his polo and jeans amidst the sea of black denim and sewn on patches, so any credit he might've given to them was lost.

He'd be the first to admit they werent the best of friends anymore, and they tended to treat him accordingly, but it was hard to just drop people you'd known since finger painting class. Meeting Robin after high school more than made up for any of the times Tommy or Carol were vaguely shitty about inviting him out.

But anyway, the concert. Steve had spent the last fifteen minutes since walking in the doors wondering what he, and then they, were doing here, because as far as he remembered, both of his friends' music tastes were about as eclectic as his own -that is to say, Tommy had definitely told Carol more than once to switch frequencies when Mötley Crüe came on the radio. He was pretty sure he'd know if either of them were nursing some sort of hidden love of all things heavy metal or... screamy.

The guy standing just in front of him to the left was wearing a vest with a gigantic patch on the back that seemed to just be a mountain with a gaping mouth in the side of it, wide open with teeth made of rocks and naked people climbing up the cliff face. Steve really felt out of place in his white nike sneakers he picked specifically due to the fact they matched his watch band.

*

Preview of my latest steddie one-shot! I'll link it here when I get it up on AO3 -I don't make taglists :)

Meet-Cute fic on AO3

[racooninatrashcan]

This could be Steddie but y’all are cowards

[hairmetal666]

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

[edzmunson86]

[steddilly]

Trophy wife Steve married to successful musician Eddie the lead guitarist of hit metal band Corroded Coffin AU. They have six adopted kids and two Pomeranians. 

[emeraldzephyr]

Glory Days: A Baseball AU Fic

Part 1 of my Baseball Player Steve Harrington Fic!

Eddie Munson was at the last place he thought he would ever be on a Wednesday afternoon. 

After arriving in Chicago for the next stop on Corroded Coffin's Raising the Dead tour, their manager, Nancy Wheeler, presented them with suite tickets to the Chicago Cubs game.

"One of the player's brothers is a huge fan" She said as she passed over the envelope, "It would mean a lot to go, and it's good press."

"Nancy," Eddie started, and the rest of the band sighed, preparing for his rant, "We are not sports sorts. In fact, it was those same types that made our lives such hell in school. And yes, that was 10 years ago but I have a very good memory, and even a few scars to remember it by!" 

"Look, it's 3 hours tops, there will be food and drinks in the suite, and if you get pics at the game I bet you sell out the rest of those tickets before the show on Saturday. Chicago loves the Cubs, and Steve Harrington is their golden boy."

Eddie looked to his band members, eyes darting between the three of them.

Gareth shrugged "Might as well, maybe it could be fun."

Eddie frowned, and glared down at Jeff, "Weirdly enough, I kind of like baseball."

Eddie gasped, murmuring traitor under his breath.

Finally, he leveled his gaze to Frank, who gulped before sputtering out, "I mean, free food and drinks is nice." 

" Ugh… .fine!" Eddie snaps, throwing his hands up and flopping down on the couch in the hotel suite," but don't expect me to be happy about it."

Which brings us to the present, where Eddie sits in the cushy Legends suite at Wrigley Field. At least the day was nice, the sky a bright blue with fluffy clouds, a chill breeze just enough to cool the warm rays of the sun.

A bat cracked, and Eddie flinched. He knew there was netting keeping the balls from getting to them but that didn't stop his anxiety from expecting every single one of those fuckers to come flying at his face like some kind of jock powered magic missile. 

“I would say you get used to it, but you really don’t.”

Eddie turned to see a woman with short brown hair and blue eyes seated two seats over. Her long legs were propped up on the seat in front of her, and she wore a white and blue striped jersey with HARRINGTON across the back.

“I mean, I’ve been going to Steve’s games since college and I still flinch every time.” She said, chuckling to herself, “I’m Robin, by the way.”

“Ah, so you must be Harrington’s lucky girl!” Eddie exclaims, sweeping his hands open in a dramatic bow, “Eddie Munson, pleasure to meet you.”

“Eww, no.” Robin clips, “Steve is my very platonic best friend. And roommate, but I am but a humble graduate student and he makes fuck you amounts of money.”

Eddie barks out a laugh at that as the loudspeaker in the stadium crackles to life.

“Batting Number 4, Your Shortstop Steve Harrington!!”

The crowd roars to life, Robin cheering enthusiastically next to him, and Eddie’s jaw drops open as he hears a familiar drum and guitar riff before his own voice shouts through the stadium “I don’t need your crown!!”, the fans echoing his words as the guitar and drums kick into a fast and heavy riff. When Jeff explained the concept of walkout music to him earlier in the game he never expected to hear one of their own songs blasted through the stadium.

“Holy shit!” Gareth shouted, shaking Eddie by the shoulders “Harrington has our song as his walkout music!”

Eddie looks up to the jumbotron screens to see a close up of Harrington as he steps up to the batter's box, a beaming smile on his face as he taps the end of the bat on each shoe before bringing the bat up and squatting slightly to get in batting position, his eyes focused like a laser on the pitcher. 

The first pitch flies in just below the strike zone, the second in the dirt. 

“Ooo, they’re scared of him.” a curly haired man says, plopping into the empty seat between Eddie and Robin.

“Scared of him?” Eddie questions, tilting his head at the new arrival.

He turns towards Eddie and a look of recognition crosses his face, “Holy shit, you’re Eddie Munson! Steve said he was giving you and the band tickets but I didn’t think you’d actually come! I’m Dustin, his little brother!”

Dustin grabs Eddie’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically as Steve fouls off the third pitch.

“They’re scared of him because he’s a damn good player,” Robin fills in, sitting up just enough to make eye contact with Eddie over Dustin’s head.

“Yeah, they don’t want to give him anything he can get ahold of,” Dustin muses as the crack of the bat against the ball rings out through the stadium.

The ball rockets up the middle, cutting between the second base and shortstop and rolling through center field. Steve takes off at a sprint, rounding first base and making it comfortably to second before the ball flies in from the outfield.

“Hell yeah Steve!!” Dustin shouts, with Robin whistling.

* * * * *

Eddie spends the majority of the game talking to Dustin and Robin about a variety of topics. Eddie learns that Dustin is working at a tech company that does…something with radio waves. Honestly Eddie was lost on that one after about three words. He also learns Robin is studying linguistics at the University of Chicago. Eddie talks to them both about his music, their tour, and a few early ideas for songs. 

The group always stops when Steve comes up to bat. It’s endearing how much the pair cares about Steve, contrasting with how little they care about the rest of the game. It honestly surprises Eddie how good of a time he is having. 

Steve’s next two at bats are a sacrifice fly, putting the Cubs on the board but still behind. His second at bat ends in a double play, giving Eddie precious little time to admire the man as he ran the bases. And Eddie was a weak, weak man, and those baseball pants hugged just right. He should honestly know better than to crush on the straight jock, but looking was fine, right?

It was the bottom of the ninth and the Cubs trailed 4-1 when Steve came to bat, bases loaded. After Steve’s walkout music cut off you could hear a pin drop in the stadium. Pitch one was a fastball, rocketing in right down the center of the strike zone. Steve stood completely still, taking the strike. The next, a breaking ball down and left, outside the strike zone. One and one count.

“Holy shit this is stressful,” Eddie said through clenched teeth, twisting the rings on his fingers nervously.

“No kidding,” Robin mumbles, her knee bouncing anxiously as Steve stepped back into the batter’s box.

Pitch three was a fastball that floated just outside of the strike zone, pitch four a curve ball fouled off into the first base stands. The count was even, and it felt as if the stadium itself was holding its breath. 

Pitch five was where the pitcher made a grave error. It flew straight down the center of the strike zone, but Steve was ready for it this time. The ball cracked off the bat, soaring towards right field. The stadium erupted, growing louder and louder the further the ball flew, until it landed in the right field bleachers.

“HOLY SHIT THAT WAS A WALK OFF GRAND SLAM!!” Dustin screamed, as all of them jumped to their feet, shouting and cheering as Steve and his teammates all rounded the bases. 

The entire stadium was whipped into a frenzy, the team included. Steve rounded third base and beamed as his entire team waited for him at home plate, where they instantly swarmed him, multiple coolers of gatorade dunked on his head as the team celebrated. 

Eddie and the Corroded Coffin boys couldn’t help but be swept up in the kinetic atmosphere of the stadium, jumping and cheering. His eyes locked with Gareth’s when the entire stadium began to sing.

“Go Cubs Go! Go Cubs Go! Hey, Chicago, what do you say, The Cubs are gonna win today!”

“They have their own theme song?” Gareth exclaimed, “We gotta do a cover.”

“Wouldn’t be the first!” Jeff shouted over the crowd, slinging an arm around Gareth’s shoulders, “Pantera wrote a song for the Dallas hockey team that they play when goals are scored.”

The crowd continued singing as they all filtered out of the stadium, while the suite that Eddie and the others were in continued their libations. After a few minutes, the door swung open and a chorus of “Steve!” rang out from the box.

Eddie may as well have looked right at the sun with as bright as Harrington was beaming as both Dustin and Robin threw their arms around his shoulders, both speaking lightning fast at him in their excitement. His eyes darted between the two of them, trying to keep up with the separate streams of conversations, when his eyes finally settled between the two of them on Eddie, Gareth, Jeff, and Frank.

“You must be Corroded Coffin!” He greeted, slipping between Robin and Dustin and walking over to shake hands, “I’m really glad you could make it, Dusty and I are both big fans.”

“Gotta say,” Eddie started as he shook Steve’s hand, “I didn’t expect a pretty boy jock like yourself to be a metal fan.”

Steve flushed slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, “Yeah, well Dustin was the one who got me into it in all honesty. That plus a smidge of teenage rebellion was the right combination I guess. Plus, it makes great workout music.”

A woman’s head popped into the door as the group chatted, “Steve, we have a presser in 5.”

“Guess that’s my cue,” he said, thumbing over his shoulder at the door, “If you don’t have plans after the game, we are doing a barbecue at my place.”

The Corroded Coffin boys all looked between each other, Jeff nodding enthusiastically. Frank shrugged, and Gareth smiled mischievously at Eddie. He didn’t like that look one bit.

“I guess we can swing by,” Eddie said, eyebrows knitted together in confusion at Gareth’s expression, then turning to smile at Steve.

“Great!” Steve beamed, clapping Eddie on the shoulder, “Robin can give you the details.”

Steve walked up to Nancy just before leaving, giving her a hug and lifting her slightly off her toes.

“It was good to see you Nance Pants,” he grinned, “See you at the barbecue!”

"Nance Pants?" The band choruses in unison.

"We are NOT talking about it."