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queenie-ofthe-void · 2 months

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Tiger Club (complete version)

Steddie || 6k words || Modern AU single dad Steve and teacher Eddie || rated: M (for very very light d/s undertones at the end NO EXPLICIT CONTENT they don't even kiss you honor it's ok) fluff and humor

~~~

Eddie’s not usually a teacher to bitch about his job. He loves getting his little kiddos excited about reading and story-telling, and surprisingly, teaching is just as fulfilling as he’d hoped it’d be.

This year, however, he drew the proverbial short straw for extracurricular activities. When he was asked to coach soccer he supposes he could’ve politely declined instead of gagging in the middle of the teacher’s meeting, embarrassing the new Principal and causing the history teacher to actually vomit. Empathetic vomiting– Eddie’s a teacher and he’s still learning something new every day.

Does he really seem like the kind of guy who coaches sports? No, of course not. He’ll leave that to the gorgeous and talented math teacher Ms. Cunningham, and the unbearable meathead Phys. Ed. teacher Mr. Carver, who won’t stop drooling over her like a jock peacocking for the head cheerleader. A relatively adept assessment since Chrissy coaches the Little Tumblers gymnastics team and Jason coaches Tiger Cubs basketball.

Regardless, because of Eddie’s little stunt, he’s been relegated to alternating his after school hours between Tiger Club, and detention. The two most boring extracurriculars for kiddos and teachers alike. All he does is wait for parents to pick their kids up, and they’re either too busy demanding to know why they’re child is in detention, or screaming for them to get in the car, to stop and say well hello Mr. Munson, thank you for watching little Joanie today. The small consolation to his predicament is he alternates each week with Ms. Cunningham.

When Chrissy started at Hawkins Middle last fall, Eddie knew exactly what to expect: an ex-high school jock turned girl’s sportsball coach, hoping to relive the glory days. Someone who’d be cocky, self-righteous, and bitchy.

To his surprise, she turned out to be quiet and withdrawn, separating herself from the rest of the staff. He’d thought she’d warm up soon enough, but when she still hadn’t made any friends by winter break, Eddie decided to do something about it.

He adopted her as one of his sheep– a practice of gathering misfits he’s continued into adulthood. She looked skeptical when he first invited her out for happy hour, wary after weeks of Jason’s obnoxious flirting.

Two margaritas later, he’d learned Chrissy had come out to her family who’d then promptly disowned her for her sinful ways. She moved out, got her degree, and took the first job offered to her at Hawkins Middle.

Eddie couldn’t be more grateful for her presence in his life. Chrissy is his other half and she seems to feel the same. She’s not cocky or arrogant, although she’s definitely bitchy, but in a way which perfectly matches him. Chris knows how to take him down a peg, and he knows how to lift her up. They balance each other inside and out.

The other staff, however, see them as an odd pair solely because of their severely opposing aesthetics. Where Eddie’s etched in hard edges and dark colors, donning leather jackets and a myriad of old concert t-shirts, Chrissy flows in soft lines and pastels, garnered in sundresses and cardigans with the occasional jersey for game days.

Many of the staff also love to gossip about a possible secret relationship between the pair– opposites attract and all of that nonsense– which actually works well for them. Better for everyone to think they’re sleeping together rather than the rural people of Indiana discovering queers working around their young, impressionable children.

From their first happy hour, they’d started the Friday tradition of swiping dating apps and bitching about their love lives over margaritas and nachos. It’s one of the best parts of Eddie’s week.

And it’s Friday, which means they should be huddled in their corner booth right now, one shot of tequila each under their belts. But here he is, standing outside next to the jungle gym at 4pm waiting for the twins to be picked up by their dad.

Go figure the guy’s late. Again.

According to Chrissy, this guy Steve has been late every day this week– and it’s only the first week of school. He’s probably one of those parents who thinks teachers work to serve them, like they don’t have their own lives outside of school. It’s Friday for shit’s sake, he’s hungry and he needs a smoke.

“Chris, this is ridiculous. Detention ends at 3:30, same as Tiger Club. Are we just going to keep letting this guy get away with this?” Eddie’s fingers twitch towards the vape in his back pocket. Obviously he doesn’t smoke in front of the kids, but they’re supposed to be gone by now.

“Eddie, just relax, okay? He’s a nice guy, and it sounds like he’s a single dad with a chaotic job. Try to cut him some slack.” She gives him a reassuring smile, knocking her elbow into his side. “Don’t worry we’ll get some salsa in you and you’ll be good as new,” she snarks.

He shoots her a seething glare but she just smiles at him and smoothes out her sundress against the summer breeze. As Eddie crafts the perfect retort– it was going to be a really good one too– a maroon BMW SUV pulls up to the curb.

Fucking finally, Eddie thinks. If Chris isn’t going to say anything to this guy about his chronic tardiness, then he will.

They both start towards the car when a tall woman with a dark blonde bob and a pale freckled face steps out of the driver’s seat. She’s wearing a cropped Hozier t-shirt and oversized cotton overalls covered in pins. Eddie notices a small white, pink, and orange flag next to a pin of a cartoon ghost with boobs that just says “boooooobies”. He likes her already.

Eddie turns to ask Chrissy who this mystery woman is, but it seems she’s also clocked the pins.

“You’re not Steve,” Chrissy shouts. She winces as the woman arches her brow at the abrupt outburst. “I just mean that Steve has been here every day, and that’s his car, but you’re not Steve. I mean, obviously you’re not Steve, you’re you. You know you’re not Steve, you don’t need me to tell you that.”

The following silence is solid and impenetrable. Eddie’s never seen Chrissy this flustered before. Her bambi eyes shine wide and bright, paired with a hot pink flush climbing up to her ears. She’s fiddling with the buttons on her lavender cardigan and it seems like she can’t decide if she should stare directly at the woman in front of her, or very intensely in absolutely any other direction.

Not-Steve’s growing smile and matching blush tells him maybe he’s not the only one who’s noticed Chrissy’s little crush.

Interesting.

Just as Eddie steps in to save his friend from mortal anguish, he’s interrupted by high-pitched screeches from the playground.

“Auntie Robbie,” the twins cry in unison. It’d be creepy if they weren’t so goddamned adorable.

“My munchkins!” The kids crash into her, the three of them falling to the ground in a heap of limbs. “Oof okay let’s make sure you don’t take me out before I can get you twerps home.”

He only knows of the twins from what Chrissy has told him this week, since she gets to see all of the incoming sixth graders, whereas Eddie teaches seventh and eighth grade. Working with younger kids is great, don’t get him wrong, but the available reading material for his literature units only gets better with age.

The curly-haired boy scrambles up to collect his Minecraft hat from where it’d fallen off in the scuffle. He’s small, hyperactive as all hell, and missing his front teeth, which Eddie can only tell because of the kid’s unbridled megawatt smile.

While the boy raves about his school day, the young red headed girl rolls her eyes at his antics, but it’s easy to spot the fondness underneath. Her two copper braids are adorned with small butterfly clips, matching the fake butterfly tattoos on her left wrist. In contrast to her more girlish accessories, she’s wearing a Hawkin’s Hospital softball team shirt which has to be a men’s medium, at least. It’s been tucked into her hot pink shorts, but it drowns her nonetheless.

In short, they’re both absolutely adorable.

When Eddie turns his attention from the kids, Chrissy’s finishing gently explaining the pick up times. Thank God.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Robin sheepishly replies. “His shifts have been really hectic this week and he’s on call today so–”

“Wait,” the girl interrupts. “Does that mean he won’t be home for dinner?” She moves to stand away from the mess of tangled limbs, scowling to hide the obvious hurt in her eyes.

“Max, honestly I’m not sure. I know he’s trying really hard to change his shifts, so hopefully it won’t be forever. Okay?” The reassurance seems to ease a bit of the tension in Max’s shoulders and scrunched brow. “But to make up for it, we’re going to have dinner at Aunt Nancy and Uncle Johnny’s house. I think the Sinclairs will be there too.”

“Ooooooo,” the boy teases, a shit-eating grin on his face, “Lucas will be there!”

“Shut up, Dustin!” Her fingers reach up to fidget with the small heart pendant on her necklace, while a light blush coasts across her freckles.

“Okay kiddos that’s enough, let’s get you out of here so your wonderfully patient teachers can actually start their weekend,” Robin replies, smiling while coaxing the twins towards the car. “I’m sorry again for being late, I swear it won’t happen again.”

“Totally cool, don’t worry about it,” Chrissy replies, a little too casually. The scarlet that invaded her chest and ears has receded to a dusting of pale pink on her cheeks. Robin’s smile grows wider as the two women stare at each other, cartoon hearts and flying babies in diapers wielding bow and arrows floating around their heads.

Eddie clears his throat– loudly.

“OH, right,” Robin starts. She reaches up to fiddle one of her many pins as she finally notices Eddie’s presence. “I should let you get back to your, to your uhh, him, I mean.”

“Mr. Munson! He’s just Mr. Munson.” Eddie can actually see the wheels in her brain spinning faster than they can take off. It’s cute, he’s just trying not to feel a little slighted. “He’s my coworker. My friend, actually, he’s my best friend, Eddie.”

“Oh,” Robin says again, more relaxed this time. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sorry if you’ve had to wait for Steve too.”

“No, I’ve been doing detention, but I’m sure I’ll get to meet him next week. I’ve heard a bit about him from Chrissy. Chaotic work schedule, single dad, twins,” Eddie says, gesturing to Max and Dustin talking amongst themselves.

“Yeah,” Robin absently draws the word out, eyes roaming over Eddie top to bottom.

Surprisingly, he feels himself blush. He’s not even into women but damn has it been awhile since he’s been checked out so blatantly. One of the many queer struggles he and Chris have bonded over is how difficult dating is in Bumfuck Nowhere, USA. So other than the occasional weekend fling in the city for Eddie, and one five-month long-distance relationship for Chrissy, neither have seen any recent action.

Sue him for getting flustered at being so obviously ogled, even if she is clearly into Chrissy. That just leaves Eddie wondering why he’s being visibly raked over by a random lesbian.

“So, Eddie, you said you’ll be here next week, yeah? When Steve’s here for pick up,” she asks, with innocent curiosity in her voice but a glint of something suspicious in her eyes.

“Umm yeah,” he says, very eloquently, “I did just say that.”

“Good! I’ll make sure Steve’s definitely here next week to grab the kids. He should meet all of his kids’ teachers.”

Before Eddie can correct her– he’s not their teacher– Robin shoots him a coy smile and a wink while turning to leave. The kids say their goodbyes, scrambling into the car, and as it pulls away from the curb Dustin rolls down his window to wave as they drive off.

Eddie stands in stunned silence next to his unusually quiet best friend, the two slowly processing the whirlwind of whatever the fuck just happened.

“Well,” Chrissy says, a shell-shocked smile on her face, “I guess we have something to talk about over margs.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, still reeling after the odd interaction, “I guess we do.”

~~~

Weeks go by, and Eddie always seems to miss Steve’s pick up days. Chrissy’s only seen him a few times, but both her and Eddie have been privileged with the presence of almost every other adult family member in the twins’ lives.

Aunt Robin picks them up most days. She always feigns exasperation at Dustin’s boundless energy and Max’s sassy jokes, but laughs every time they tackle her to the ground. Eddie was surprised to find out she actually lives with the kids and their mysterious father. He considered asking her more about the situation, but decided it wasn’t his business.

However, he did find out from Chrissy that Robin and Steve went to the same high school but ran in different crowds. The two reconnected working at Hawkins Hospital, Robin as an interpreter and Steve as a paramedic. They bonded over a particularly difficult patient who’d come in through Emergency and didn’t want someone like Robin working with him, not realizing– as Robin had joked– that Steve was someone like Robin too.

The more Eddie learns about the duo, the more it reminds him of his relationship with Chrissy. It’s at least a small comfort to know they’re not alone in this backwards town.

Aunt Nancy and Uncle Jonathan are the next most frequent visitors. He learned Nancy is a journalist at the Hawkins Post, but is looking to get hired working remotely at a bigger paper like The Chicago Times or Indianapolis Journal. Jonathan is a free-lance photographer, sometimes working for Nancy or the Post, but mostly shoots weddings and family photos. They seem nice enough, although he once caught Jonathan checking him out in the same way Robin had, glancing between Eddie and his own wife with a smirk on his face.

The nerve of these people checking him out, leaving him flushed and spluttering when they aren’t even interested.

Hell, he even got to meet Dustin and Max’s grandparents before meeting their mysterious and elusive dad.

“Munson,” Jim Hopper, Hawkins Chief of Police, the twins’ adopted grandfather, scowled at him. He looked about the same as the last time Eddie had seen him, maybe a few more greys in his mustache and lines around his eyes. Easier to see the fine details when Eddie’s not cuffed in the backseat making faces at him in the rearview mirror.

Jesus Christ, is he lucky Hopper only ever brought him back home to Wayne for dealing instead of throwing him in a jail cell for the weekend. Eddie was twenty the last time the Chief picked him up, almost a decade ago now. He practically tossed Eddie in the backseat, drove them both out to the quarry, sat him down, handed him a beer, and explained in fine detail the differences between being a juvenile delinquent and an actual felon. Needless to say Eddie quit dealing and decided his calling was more educational.

“Oh Hop, leave the poor boy alone.” The small woman next to them playfully back-hands the Chief’s beer belly to get him to back off. “I’m Joyce, the kids’ grandma. And you must be Mr. Munson! We’ve heard so much about you.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Hopper,” he says, unsure of how to navigate this extremely awkward interaction. The Chief’s stern glare hasn’t left Eddie’s face since he stepped out of the car. “I, uhh, wasn’t aware that you had family, Chief?”

The man grunts, but uncrosses his arms, shoving one hand in his front pocket and wrapping the other around his wife. “Steve’s not my son, but I’ve been looking after that boy since I picked him up for his first speeding ticket. Just a few years before the kids, back when he was dating Nancy.”

“Wait, wait, wait a second,” Eddie interrupts, shocked “Nancy, as in Auntie Nancy and Uncle Jonathan?”

“Jonathan’s my boy,” Joyce answers Eddie’s slack-jawed confusion. “Nancy and Jonathan met just after her and Steve broke up, but they’re all still good friends, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Eddie zones out a bit, trying to connect the dots in the tangled web of Max and Dustin Harrington’s family life. “Wait, wouldn’t that make Steve my age? And if you raised him–” he points to Hopper accusingly– “then that means he went to school here. With me. So why don’t I know him?”

But Hopper’s already shaking his head. “Kid went to the private school two towns over. Parents have an estate on the opposite side of town from Forest Hills, just barely inside my jurisdiction. I’m not surprised you two didn’t cross paths, he was only ever here for sports, which–” he gestures at Eddie’s everything, and yeah, Eddie gets it. But an estate?

This is the most information he’s been able to dig up so far. He looks back to the playground where Chrissy is still trying to rally the twins’ spilled bags. It’s an opportunity Eddie refuses to pass on.

“And the twins?” He turns back and just catches the end of a silent conversation between the couple, eyeing each other while glancing at Eddie. They stop when they notice him watching, and Hop sighs.

“Dustin and Max came around just after his senior year. The kid was set up for a full-ride to Indy on a swim scholarship his dad paid for. The mom was a girl he met at a party, and he didn’t see her again until she dropped them off on his doorstep. Parents kicked him out, then I took them in. Same week I picked you up for the last time,” Hop adds on with a laugh, like this entire conversation is chock full of cosmic coincidence. “What a hell of a week.”

Eddie tumbles the new information in his head over and over throughout the next few days. He feels himself growing bitter that someone like Steve Harrington exists. Someone who sounds too good to be true. Fake, like the many charming princes and noble knights he’s woven into his campaigns over the years. Except it’s hard to deny when it’s not just the kids, and Auntie Robin, Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Nancy, or hell, even the grandparents.

It’s Chrissy. Every time Chrissy gets to talk to Steve, she raves about him until Eddie starts fake gagging just to get her to stop. She typically rolls her eyes, but he’s sick of hearing about how great this guy is and at this point, he’s not even sure if he wants to meet him. No one’s this great.

“Don’t you think it’s weird,” Eddie rants, like he has been for the past ten minutes, “that he can’t even be bothered to pick up his own children? And it’s like you’ve said, Chris, even when he does pick them up he’s always late! What kind of father is that, really?”

He’s halfway through his second margarita, and he’s lost track of the conversation entirely, not sure how they transitioned from Chrissy’s hinge matches to Steve fucking Harrington. Again.

Chrissy frowns at him, and yeah, he might’ve went a bit too far there. Maybe he’s a little sensitive about topics revolving around bad dads.

“Just because you’re hungry doesn’t mean you get to be a dick, Eddie,” she shoots back, pushing the basket of chips closer to him as they wait for their food. “It’s not my fault you decided to switch to detention yesterday and missed him because you were cold. I told you it was going to be chilly out and you still didn’t wear a jacket.”

“I was wearing a jacket, Chris,” he pouts.

“An actual, warm jacket. Not that threadbare, leather monstrosity you got from Goodwill for ten dollars. Just because you cover the holes with patches doesn’t mean the holes aren’t there.”

He lets out an undignified shriek, but she continues on to the actual conversation, used to ignoring his dramatics. “You know it’s not the same as with your dad, or mine. Steve really is a great guy, even if you refuse to admit it. I think you’re just jealous you haven’t met him yet.”

“Of course I want to meet him,” he snaps back, but Chrissy just grins in response. “I have to listen to everyone talk about how great he is, and I’m just supposed to believe it all on face-value? Honestly, I’m sick of hearing about him, and if we keep talking about this it’s gonna ruin my buzz.”

Eddie refuses to believe a former trust-fund kid who hosted parties at his estate just to act like a fuck-boy actually leveled up to become a loving single father who’s adored by his family and friends, saves literal lives every day, and is one of the only queer people in this god forsaken town.

Not that he spends his free time thinking about a random guy he’s gathered enough general information on to build a well-rounded NPC. A disowned nobleman cast out from his kingdom into squalor. With the help of the lonely prince’s new found family, he redeems himself by serving as Hawkins’ most beloved Paladin.

Again, not that he’s actually building this character for next year’s campaign or anything, it just goes to show how much people won’t stop bragging about this guy, and Eddie’s over it.

“You’d really like him,” Chrissy says, putting an end to his stewing. She’s smiling like maybe she knows something he doesn’t, and it reminds him of the same smiles he’s gotten from Robin and Nanna Joyce.

“Yeah, well I’d actually have to meet him to like him.”

~~~

It’s Eddie’s week for Tiger Club and by Thursday he still hasn’t seen Steve once. It’s been Robin every day so far, but she promised yesterday that he’d be doing pick ups today and tomorrow. Eddie hadn’t really believed her after so many previous missed connections, but when the kids ran out to the playground screaming about Dad bringing them for ice cream after school, he thinks maybe he should’ve taken her seriously.

Because now here he is, fiddling with the sleeves of his leather jacket and smoothing a hand over his flyaways like he’s about to meet the goddamned Pope. He’s not nervous– he’s not. It’s just some guy– nay, an ex-trust fund kid. Sure he sounds amazing on paper, but Eddie’ll decide that for himself.

“So is he here yet?” Jumping out of his skin, he turns to find Chrissy smirking at him. He checks his watch and sure enough, it’s 3:45, and Max and Dustin are the last kids on the playground. God, he really should’ve noticed all of the other kids leaving. “Eddie, you seem nervous,” she says, giggling as he scoffs at her implication.

He is not nervous.

“What would I have to be nervous about?” He almost shouts it, gesturing wildly with his hands. “I don’t even know the guy. I just know he’s late. Again!”

Chris nods toward him, eyeing something over his shoulder and he turns in time to see a familiar maroon SUV pull up to the curb. But the man stepping out onto the sidewalk definitely isn’t Robin.

No, he’s just the prettiest man Eddie’s ever been lucky enough to set his gaze on.

He’s wearing tight, acid washed jeans and a navy henley that’s holding on for dear life across his broad chest. The aviator sunglasses should really make him look like a stereotypical douchebag, but of course it just makes him look hot, accentuating his full, pouty, pink lips. His thick, chestnut hair is feathered to appear casual. Even from across the playground it looks soft, and Eddie’s desperate to touch, to hold and pull tight.

The fucking guy is effortlessly cool, and Eddie hates that cool ex-jock is a look that’s apparently his type.

The man scans the playground, a wide grin brightens his face when he catches sight of the twins. Eddie watches as the literal fallen angel pushes his fingers into his mouth– sending Eddie’s thoughts careening dangerously off course– and whistles loud enough that Dustin and Max pop up like adorable groundhogs.

“Daddy!” Max yells, jumping up and running full speed towards him with Dustin hot on her heels.

Daddy? Eddie’s never heard either of the twins call him that– it’s always been Dad. Although Eddie’s also pretty sure he’s never seen Max this excited before.

Steve drops to his knees– Eddie’s jaw hits the ground at the same time– to catch his kids as they send him toppling over. The three are a pile of limbs and smiles, and it’s melting Eddie’s cold, grinch heart.

Chrissy nudges him. He can tell she’s already reading him like an open book, the same way he had when she’d first laid eyes on Robin. Instead of teasing, her smile is full of comfort and encouragement. She lightly tugs his arm, pulling his frozen legs behind her towards the chaos. As the kids disentangle themselves, he can hear them excitedly talking over one another.

“No, Daddy listen, Lucas told the funniest joke at recess–”

“Max, oh my god, no one cares! I literally made a volcano in science–”

“Shut up, Dustin, no one cares about your stupid science volcano!”

“Hey!” Steve’s up on his feet clapping loudly to get the kids’ attention. “Language, Max. How many times do I have to tell you that Dustin’s science stuff isn’t stupid? And Dustin, don’t interrupt your sister when she’s talking. Just because you’re louder doesn’t mean you get to talk over her. Both of you apologize. Now.”

The kids look equally cowed, and mutter their apologies before turning back to their dad with their proverbial tails between their legs.

“And?” he prompts.

“Sorry for arguing, Dad,” they answer in unison.

“Good. Now, let’s go find Miss Chr–”

The end of Steve’s sentence is lost to the autumn wind as he catches Eddie’s eye. He watches as Steve slowly pushes his sunglasses up onto his head and jesus christ those are the warmest honey hazel eyes Eddie’s ever seen. Steve’s mouth has dropped open, drawing Eddie’s gaze to his plush lips.

Up close, Eddie can pick out the golden shine to his hair and the moles scattered across his skin. Two on the man’s neck hold his attention, filling Eddie with the strong urge to bite. Steve pushes up his sleeves to reveal toned forearms. His hands are large with long fingers and Eddie needs them wrapped around him.

“Daddy, what are you looking at?”

Both men jolt at the sound of Max’s voice. A heavy blush coats Steve’s face, and Eddie wants to explore where else the man turns red and wanting. Mouth suddenly dry, he darts his tongue out to wet his lips, only for Steve’s gaze to immediately track the movement.

“Daddy, oh my god why are you being so weird!”

Steve tears his eyes from Eddie’s mouth, briefly turning to face Max again.

“I’m not being weird. You just haven’t introduced me to your teacher yet.”

“Oh, right I’m so sorry,” Chrissy steps forward, not sounding sorry at all. “This is–”

“Mr. Munson, right?” Steve says. “And I’m–”

“Daddy,” Eddie finishes.

It’s quiet. Too quiet, and Eddie realizes everyone is staring at him. Steve’s eyes are wide, mouth open in shock. He’s flushing red down his neck and up to the tips of his ears, but his eyes never leave Eddie’s.

“Did you just call our Dad, Daddy?” Max asks, pointing and laughing.

And oh.

Oh god no.

He called him Daddy to his face in front of his children, and the universe, and everyone. A beautiful, gorgeous, perfect specimen of a man he’s never met before, and he called him Daddy like Eddie was cursed in a past life to make a total ass of himself. He’s on the verge of melting into the ground when Dustin’s shrill voice cuts through the fog to come to his aid.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Munson. Last week I accidentally called Mrs. Click, Mom, but it was an accident,” the boy reasons. “It happens to everyone, it’s okay.”

Except it’s very much not okay, and Eddie thinks nothing will be okay ever again.

He chances a look and sees Steve’s finally closed his mouth, though he’s chewing on his bottom lip and still blushed up to his ears. Eddie can only imagine how red his own face is.

“Well,” Chrissy clears her throat– loudly. “Eddie, this is Steve. And Steve, this is Mr. Munson, but you can call him Eddie.” She looks a little too pleased with herself, but Eddie doesn’t know whether to thank her or remember this for next time Robin comes around.

“Hi,” Steve says, dazed, absently reaching out for a handshake because of course Steve’s the kind of man to shake a guy’s hand who’s just accidentally called him Daddy. The nerve of some people.

“Umm, hi,” Eddie responds while he grabs Steve’s hand. It’s not a firm handshake between two people meeting for the first time. It’s gentle, Steve practically cradling Eddie’s hand in his and he was right. Steve’s hand is bigger, softer than his own, but Eddie’s fingers are thicker.

Over far too soon– but maybe too long if Chrissy’s scrunched expression is anything to go by– Steve lets go. Eddie’s forced to stand and watch Steve flex his fingers, stretching until they’re white, before balling them into a fist and shoving his hand into his back pocket. His other hand rakes through his auburn hair, and– for absolutely no reason whatsoever– Eddie considers including a Jane Austin unit next semester for his eighth graders.

“I’ve heard a lot about you from the kids. And Robin. Oh and Jonathan and Joyce,” Steve rambles. If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d say the man sounds flustered. It helps him relax a bit.

“All good things?” Eddie teases, twirling a strand of hair between his fingers before pulling it in front of his face.

“Yeah, they just failed to mention,” Steve gestures vaguely to all of Eddie, much the same way as Hopper had but also very, very different. He looks down at himself to make sure he didn’t wear anything especially heinous today, but all he finds are his typical combat boots, black jeans, and his gray t-shirt underneath his leather jacket.

He steps a little closer to Eddie, putting them within middle school slow-dancing distance from each other. Eddie can’t look away from his eyes, warm and golden, just like everything else about him.

“Kids,” Chrissy cuts in, “why don’t we go get your stuff together while your Daddy talks with Mr. Munson a bit?” Eddie could kiss her for being such a saint, and the three of them wander off while Eddie remains a captive to the intensity crawling around in Steve’s stare.

“So,” Steve sighs, voice low and smooth. Chills spread down Eddie’s spine, and he knows he’s done for. “Daddy, huh?”

Heat scorches Eddie’s face as white hot embarrassment spreads to his core. Steve smiles like he’s successfully cornered his prey, and Eddie can’t figure out what to do with his hands. He stands frozen as Steve takes another step forward, now toe to toe.

“Yeah,” Eddie drags the word out, not quite sure of what he’s agreeing to. He’s only sure of Steve’s breath mixing with his and Steve’s eyes roaming his face and Steve’s everything.

He clears his throat, smoothes his clammy hands over his jeans, and tries again.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.” He chuckles, hoping to play it off as casual. “It really was just an accident like Dustin was saying, you know? An awkward slip of the tongue. See, the thing is that Max was calling you Daddy, right? Which is totally weird because she always calls you Dad. So I was just kind of surprised and confused and I couldn’t stop thinking about you– I mean Daddy! The word Daddy, not you as a Daddy.” Eddie groans scrubbing his hands over his face, hiding behind his fingers. “Fuck, god, I’m so sorry, this is so unprof–”

“I don’t think you’re sorry,” Steve interrupts. “In fact, I think you liked it. And if I had to guess, I think you want to do it again.”

This isn’t happening. This is not real life.

Things like this don’t just happen to people like him, to the Eddie Munson’s of the world, and certainly not with men like the golden god leaning into his space. Except here he finds himself, trapped in a real-life porn intro with a man he’s never met yet has been crushing on for over a month. The tightness of Eddie’s black skinny jeans is becoming an increasing problem and he reminds himself this is a school and there are children here.

Before he can recover enough to save himself, Steve’s cooing at him, pulling at the edge of his leather sleeves and asking “would you like to do it again?”

Eddie nods, dumbstruck and inappropriately turned on.

“Good,” Steve praises, saccharine, “all you have to do is ask for my number and I’ll give it to you.”

Eddie looks around the playground and sees Chrissy with the kids well on the opposite side. They’re playing on the swingset, thoroughly distracted.

“I know they’re there. It’s okay, they can’t hear us,” Steve says and grabs Eddie’s hand. He tangles their fingers together, goosebumps shiver up Eddie’s arm. “Now, ask me.”

“Umm, can I have your number?” he mumbles.

Steve shakes his head and gives Eddie's hand a firm squeeze. “No Eddie, you need to ask nicely. Go on now, I won’t say it again.”

Eddie swallows against the dryness in his mouth and Steve’s darkened eyes flit down to catch his neck flex around his empty throat.

“Please, Daddy, may I have your number?” Delicious shame coils through his chest while heat curls lower in his core. He’s not used to such brazen affection, nor so immediately trusting to reciprocate. And fuck, normally Eddie’s the Daddy. But from everything he’s heard– all of the kind and caring people who talk about how amazing Steve is– he thinks this might be okay. Hopes and wants and craves it all to be okay.

Steve’s answering smile is surprisingly gentle. He rubs his thumb against the back of Eddie’s knuckles before taking a step back, not far enough to leave him self-conscious, but Eddie feels like he can breathe for the first time since Steve stepped out of the car.

“Of course you can have my number, Baby, thank you for asking so nicely.”

Eddie unlocks his phone and hands it over just as Chris makes her way back with the kids. They all say their goodbyes, and much to Eddie’s delight, Steve texts him before the SUV even pulls away from the curb. To top it off, Steve waves as they drive by, a dorky spirit-finger wave that sends Eddie into a fit of giggles, like he’s a school boy with his first crush.

Chris elbows him in the side, a smirk on her face and her eyebrow arched.

Eddie sighs in faux-defeat. “He’s alright, I guess,” he answers her unasked question with a giant, smitten, shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

He loves the twins, has met basically Steve’s entire family, and is almost positive Chris and Robin have hit it off. Eddie’s hopes are already too high up to pull back down to earth, excited to see where this journey will take him. He’s loath to admit it after weeks of petulant moping and pining, but Steve Harrington does, in fact, live up to the hype.

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