#rockstar!robin au

[lionydoorin]

rockstar robin x journalist nancy au where nancy works for a magazine that's been spreading gossip abt rising star robin buckley since her debut & they send her on robin's first tour so she can gather info abt robin's mysterious love life. only nancy falls in love w her instead

and i mean

who wouldn't

[ninthhousesteel]

@lionydoorin rockstar!robin au twitter posts

bonus:

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Realistically, Steve knows the band won’t hang around Chicago forever. He knows they’re out promoting a new album; knows they’ll have to move on and that Eddie has to go with them. It doesn’t stop him from wanting Eddie to stay; to live in the quick familiarity he’s built within Steve’s little found family.

Eddie and Robin seem to have already created their own secret language, all gestures and movement and eye contact Steve picks up on but can’t quite read. He’s already picking on the Party like he’s known them their whole lives; ruffling Dustin’s hair, elbowing Mike, throwing his arm around Will’s shoulders, and giving Lucas little shoves. 

It’s easy; so easy to get caught up in how charismatic Eddie is. Steve has a hard time keeping his eyes off him, and Eddie knows. He keeps making comments, throwing winks in Steve’s direction, seeing right through every wall he’s ever built around himself and Steve is caught between being obsessed with it and terrified. 

He stops drinking after the one beer, worried he’ll make things weird if he gets anywhere near tipsy, opting to stay as far away from the possibility as he can. If anyone notices, they don’t comment.

Lucas is chatting animatedly with Jeff, Max sitting close by, twisting braids into El’s hair. Dustin, Mike and Will appear to be grilling Gareth and Freak about dungeon and dragon campaigns Eddie used to run. Nancy has her arm looped through Robin’s, but her attention is on the phone in her hands, as Eddie and Robin talk about what touring is like.

“Where else are you going on this tour?” She asks as Steve tunes back into the conversation.

“This isn’t really a tour, we just haven’t been on the road in a while and we just stopped the album, so we lined up a few shows to get our feet wet before we hit the road for real this summer. One more show out in LA on Tuesday, then we’re done until May, for now.” Eddie explains.

“We’re in LA on Thursday!” Robin exclaims, and Steve’s stomach drops because, yeah. LA on Thursday. He trains his eyes on the glass in front of him, not willing to actually look at anyone they’re around. 

“We could totally meet up again if you guys are able to swing it?” Freak offers, and Steve forces a little smile onto his face and nods.

“We can figure it out later,” Eddie says after a few beats, and Steve is grateful for how the conversation rolls onto the next topic. When he finally looks back up, though, Eddie’s still looking his way. Steve hits him with what he hopes comes off as a reassuring smile, but it doesn’t seem to pay off the way he hopes.

Once the tab is closed and the staff is tipped well, Steve catches Eddie’s elbow on their way out the door. “I would like to meet up in LA, if you’re interested. I didn’t mean to get weird about it, it’s… I’ve been in my head a bit about that game since it was announced.”

“Oh, hey, no worries. We’re in LA the whole week, then we’re heading home. So no pressure, honest.” Eddie hooks his hand over Steve’s softly.

“Well, we should get in Wednesday, but we could totally do something after the game or even Friday?” 

Eddie smiles and nods, patting over Steve’s hand. “Text me about it.”

“I can do that. How much longer are you guys in town for, anyway?” Steve asks.

“Ah, the dreaded question comes,” Eddie’s playful, and it makes Steve’s face heat up. “We’ve got just under another 24 hours in the Windy City before hitting the road again.”

“Oh,” It pulls his chest in a way he wasn’t expecting, in a way that shouldn’t be happening for a rockstar he was adjacently aware of in high school. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Harrington,” Eddie’s teasing again, and it does nothing to help the blush on Steve’s face. “You can’t possibly miss me this much when I haven’t even left yet.”

“Shut up,” Steve shoves him away then, crossing his arms over his chest with a pout, only for Eddie to pull him in with an arm around the shoulder.

“We can grab brunch or something? We leave around 8 to avoid rush hour, so I’ll have to be in the bus by 6, or I’d say dinner.”

“Brunch works for me.” 

~~~~

The trip back to the hotel doesn’t go as Eddie expects; everyone is silently chatting amongst themselves, nodding and tapping along to the music and not causing a scene. He almost points it out, but elects not to bring unwarranted bullying upon himself instead. The guys had been giving him shit about Steve near constantly, so this was a nice change of pace after the last few days.

There was actually quiet as he made his way back to his room. A hot shower finally restored warmth to his bones the hockey arena had stolen, and he was drying his hair when he heard his phone vibrate with a text notification.

Steve: anything you're craving for brunch tomorrow so I can pick a place?

It’s practically too easy to flirt with Steve; he sets up lines without even seeming to realize. But Eddie still can’t get a real gauge on how Steve feels about the flirting, so he sidesteps the easy pass he could have made about Steve being enough of a meal, in favor of actually answering.

Eddie: French toast?

The next series of texts come before Eddie even moves his hands back to the towel over his hair.

Steve: sick, I’ll pick you up around 10:45

Steve: you mentioned going home, did you mean like, back to Hawkins?

Eddie twists his hair up in the towel, and lays down on the side of the bed he doesn’t sleep on before firing off an answer.

Eddie: nah, I’ve got a place in Nashville and no reason to go back to Hawkins anymore. My uncle moved to Indy, so that’s usually as close as I get.

Steve: any reason you moved to Nashville?

Eddie: are we playing 20 questions?

Steve: sorry.

Eddie bites his lip, and only hesitates for a moment before flipping over onto his belly and hitting the FaceTime button. Steve answers on the second ring, looking embarrassed, but Eddie doesn’t let him get a word in.

“My mom was born and raised in Memphis, but she always told me her favorite city was Nashville. I was there with her a few times when I was little and she’d just, like, light up. And music is so heavily engraved into every inch of the city, it’s hard to not find inspiration everywhere you turn. So. I bought a place in Nashville the minute I had enough saved up, and it’s kind of my home base now.” Eddie explains, watching as Steve’s face softens and he relaxes into his chair listening to Eddie’s answer. “Do I get to ask a question now?”

“I really wasn’t trying to be annoying, “ Steve looks ready to keep going with an apology, but Eddie cuts him off.

“Why do you play hockey?” It stops Steve dead in his tracks, and he genuinely looks confused for a moment. Eddie almost offers to drop the topic, but Steve fumbles his way into an answer.

“My, uh. My dad wanted me to play before I was even born. Because he played. Professionally for a few years when I was growing up, then he went on to coach.” Steve explains, and it sounds a little rehearsed. Eddie’s sure it’s something that comes up often if his father played and coached. “Gotta keep the Harrington legacy alive, I guess.”

There was a bite to Steve’s words that wasn’t lost on Eddie. “You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”

Eddie can see Steve working over how he wants to answer before he shrugs and sighs. “Because it’s all a show for him. The part we don’t talk about is how I got hurt and benched most of my senior season and he cut me off when I didn’t get full rides. Convinced me it was better to not go to college at all, despite the other scholarship offers, than to not get promised a spot on the ice. Convinced me to self-sabotage so I had to fight tooth and fucking nail to get into the league at all.” Steve pauses, then, and lets out a quiet laugh. “Sorry, that’s so unbelievably whiny of me. I love getting to play professionally, and I don’t take the opportunity for granted.”

“Not whiny. Dads can be the fucking worst.” Eddie offers, gently, and is grateful when Steve doesn't press on that particular bruise.

Instead, he takes his turn to ask a different question. “Why music?”

“This is lame, but the answer is once again my mom.” Eddie rolls his eyes at himself, but he smiles. “She was a musician. There were always instruments around and music was always playing and we traveled for her to perform. I knew my whole life I wanted to be a musician like her, but it wasn’t until after she died that I figured out that songwriting… telling stories and painting pictures with words and melodies and making people feel something…” Eddie trails off, lost in the thought.

“I’m sorry you lost her. It sounds like you enjoyed your childhood with her.” Steve offers, hopes it doesn’t sound like a forced nicety, but Eddie smiles and his nerves ease.

“She was a force to be reckoned with. Firing on all cylinders at once, chaos and home bundled into one.” Eddie’s soft a quiet for a moment, and Steve appreciates the silence by taking in how relaxed the other is to be talking about his feelings; it’s a refreshing break from many of his experiences with teammates or opponents who don’t know how to get emotional in a healthy way. Eventually, though, Eddie clears his throat. “Anyway. Back to 20 questions,”

“I wasn’t trying to start a game, really, I just… like talking to you,” Steve admits around a blush, tucking his chin into the collar of his shirt in an effort to hide the shade of his cheeks, but Eddie’s smile says his cover is blown.

“ANYWAY!” He announces louder, then taps at his chin. “Favorite and least favorite teams to play and why, go.”

“I’m not a dog.” Steve laughs but thinks about his answer anyway. “Favorite is probably the Flyers in Philly. Their fans are absolutely brutal, and their mascot is hilariously terrifying.”

“I have seen many a Gritty TikTok, so I completely understand,” Eddie gives him a few beats before he prompts. “Least favorite?”

“The Kings. LA. Billy Hargrove.”

“The…, what the fuck? How many guys from Hawkins are professional hockey players?” Eddie asks, because honestly, how had he not known there was more than Steve?

“He’s technically from LA, which is why he went back, thank God.” Steve mumbles, before dropping his head back against the wall behind him. “But, for whatever it’s worth, there’s me, Billy, and Tommy Hagan in the league.”

“Well isn’t that a fun bunch to surround yourself with,” Eddie muses out loud. Tommy and Billy were two of the biggest assholes Eddie had ever met, and it sounded like Steve wasn’t too fond of the other pair either.

“I actually…” Steve trails off, before trying again. “I was going to invite you guys to come to the LA game, but I’m really not sure it would be a good idea, so I’m… I’m actually going to ask you guys not to come, if that’s not too much of a dick move? I can get you tickets to literally any game you want for the rest of the season, just. I don’t think it’s worth it to get Billy started, and if he’s heard any of the press about us, I’m already going to hear it even if you’re not there.”

“Homophobe extraordinaire still, then?” Eddie guesses, and Steve chokes out a laugh, before covering his mouth and holding up a finger to ask for a moment to compose himself.

“He's… a lot of things.” Is the response Steve opts for, but Eddie can tell there’s more there. Whatever the two of them are doing, it doesn’t feel like Steve is ready to elaborate, so Eddie moves on. 

“I think it’s your turn.”

~~~~

Nothing changes after Corroded Coffin leave Chicago, though. Not in the ways Eddie had expected, at least.

Steve still texts him throughout the day, answers his Facetimes whenever he’s available. Eddie makes him the playlist he promised, and Steve gives feedback on which songs he likes and which ones he really doesn’t, after Eddie promises to not take Steve’s opinions personally. Which, to be fair, he tries really hard not to.

The concert in LA comes and goes, and Steve seems to send him every TikTok he comes across from the show. It’s a refreshing break, as every few videos in Eddie’s feed are of him cheering for Steve at the game, or Steve watching from sidestage in Chicago. 

A text from Robin eventually confirms their arrival in LA, and Steve and Eddie make plans to meet up after the game. Since Steve had expressed concern about Eddie going, he decides to just watch from the bar they agree to meet at. Televised games make it easier to track the puck, but Eddie decides he likes being there in person better.

Eddie’s sipping absently on his beer and in the time it takes him to look down at a text from Chrissy, several of the people around him react to something. Eddie looks around to make sure someone in the bar hadn’t passed out. When he looks back at the screen, absolute mayhem has broken out on the ice. The refs are trying to separate players from one another, and Eddie’s scanning through the numbers on each Blackhawks jerseys before he finally spots Steve, slightly off to the side from everyone else. The camera pans away from him, zeroing in on the fight, now between a Blackhawks defenseman and none other than Billy Hargrove. 

Billy’s helmet and gloves are off, teeth shining with blood as he grins like a psycho and starts to skate in Steve’s direction. One of the refs pulls him back, though, escorting him into the penalty box while another Kings player gathers his helmet, stick and gloves and clears them to the bench. 

The camera finally pans back to Steve, who is now sitting with his back against the boards. He’s got a gloved covering the lower half of his face, but his white jersey is covered in blood. A ref and the Blackhawks goalie are kneeling on either side of him as someone else speaks with him. The camera zooms in as the TV crews work to make out what is happening, just in time for Steve to lower his hand and shows off a gnarly gash along the side of his face. He leans forward a little and spits out blood onto the ice, and the TV jumps to the announcers in the booth. 

The volume is off, but they show a slow-motion replay of the few moments Eddie’d missed; Steve passes the puck off to another player on his team, just before Billy slams into his side. The impact sends both of them into the boards and down onto the ice. Billy swings his stick around and cracks Steve in the face with the blade heel. Steve reacts, throwing his whole arm into Billy’s face, before a sea of white Blackhawks jerseys sweep in and suddenly Billy’s a few feet away, with players from both teams piled up.

Eddie’s hand hovers over his phone; has no idea what to do in this situation. Texting Steve is useless; it would likely be hours, if not days, before he even thinks about looking at his phone. He doesn’t want to bother anyone, but he’s… well, he’s stressed. Even if Steve isn’t interested in him the way Eddie’s interested in Steve, they’ve still built a weird little friendship and that was an awful lot of blood.

So, Eddie ends up firing off a text to Robin. It’s just a simple 'let me know if there’s anything I can do,' but his phone lights up with a call immediately.

“How bad is it?”

“I’m not back with him yet, but just… meet us at the hospital, if you can?” She asks. While her voice waivers a bit, she’s calmer than Eddie expected her to be.

“I’ll be right there.” He agrees, hangs up and exits the bar before the game even returns from commercial break.

[riality-check]

A continuation of this post. Part 3

ao3

As that long-haired guy walks away - his friend onstage called his name, but Steve didn’t catch it - Robin nudges Steve.

“Asshole roadies,” she says, sing-song.

“Get fucked,” Steve says with her.

It’s tradition, that little chant. Every gig, there’s always one venue where someone with far less experience says something. Steve knows he was blunt and probably shouldn’t have said anything with that tone, but after too many times, his patience is exhausted.

He can’t even blame the blunt thing on ASL. If anything, he’s meaner in English.

It makes sense. He knows English a lot better. He and Robin only started taking the ASL classes two years ago, when he really needed it. His left ear had been pretty much gone for a while (fuck you Billy Hargrove for putting ceramic in his scalp), but he sucked it up and started learning when his right ear started going, too.

Honestly, he has no idea what caused that.

Two years of ASL means he and Robin aren’t fluent yet. Not even close. But between that, his residual hearing, and the lip reading he’s relied on for longer, Steve does alright. If he wasn’t at a gig, he’d bring his hearing aids, but that’s a recipe for disaster and broken equipment.

Plus, he’s learned he can’t focus on his job when he hears as well as feels the music.

Robin taps his arm again. You good?

I’m good, he signs back.

They finish setting up before they grab a snack. The venue is pretty tiny, a standing room only place that serves pizza and a few drinks, and that’s it.

The pizza is really good though.

They finish up their slices before they go back to the booth. Robin is particular about not eating around the equipment, and Steve has long given up on fighting her.

Their jobs are pretty easy, in all honesty. The light cues are pre-written, and sound check was an hour ago. All Steve needs to do is hit the cues, and all Robin needs to do is adjust mic levels and turn them on and off as needed.

This leaves plenty of room for a healthy amount of fucking around.

As Robin, always on his right side, starts telling him a story about her friend’s ex’s (who is also her friend, because lesbians are just like that) latest date, Steve watches the crowd file in and nods along.

His mind, however, goes back to that guy. Someone always says something, and it’s always someone new to touring. Steve can just tell. All the rookies do the same thing; they look at the stage with wonder in their eyes. This guy was no different. Just some rookie giving Steve a problem, like always.

Except that this guy was different.

Rookies tended to want to prove themselves. They wanted to show off their fancy knowledge and make it clear that they belonged there along with everyone else who had a career. They wanted to catch Steve off guard, make him thank them for helping him out.

This guy didn’t do that. He was nosy and pushy and pretty and rambled a lot, but he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He was trying to look out for Steve, even if it was none of his business, even if he didn’t know him.

He ended up being a bit dickish, but he wasn’t trying to be. If Steve were a nicer person, he’d think that might count for something.

Steve is trying to be a nicer person, with emphasis on trying.

His watch vibrates, jolting him back to the moment. He lowers the lights, cueing the openers to go on.

The set list, along with Steve’s cues, is in in a binder between him and Robin, lit by a book light with a battery that’ll die at least twice, with their luck.

The first opener is a band Steve has never heard of called “Corroded Coffin.” If they’re any good, he might listen to their music.

Big emphasis on might because he’s not a big fan of metal. Punk has better bass lines, one that Steve likes to feel in his chest.

He hits the cue when they start their opening song, lighting them in reds and purples and-

Oh. Shit.

That guy wasn’t a roadie. He’s part of the opening band. He’s a guitarist.

A really good guitarist.

A really hot guitarist.

Steve is so caught up in stating that he nearly misses the next cue. He doesn’t, though. He’s a professional.

Robin elbows him, and he turns to see her signing. For one hopeful moment, he thinks she’s signing “hungry” and will offer to get them both more of that really good pizza like the wonderful friend she is.

But then she repeats the sign, again and again, and Steve smacks her before hitting the next cue.

“I am not horny!” he whispers, clearly loud enough for Robin to hear through her earplugs because she laughs.

You think he’s hot, she signs.

Steve rolls his eyes.

I’m right! she teases.

Steve faces away from her for the two seconds it takes for her to tug him back.

“Not fair,” she says, and Steve only gets it because it’s light enough to read her lips.

The band has gone through two songs, and the lead singer, a tall Black guy, is saying something to the crowd. Steve hears it just fine with all the mics, but understanding is too much of a struggle to bother.

He doesn’t really care anyway. He likes feeling the music and hearing it with what he has left (his audiologist said it won’t accelerate his hearing loss, so any hearing protection is a waste of money), not listening to whatever the bands have to talk about.

Anything important? he asks Robin.

She shakes her head.

Steve turns back to the stage in time to hit the next cue, casting the band in blue as the guitarist starts playing a really low intro.

Did you hear his name earlier? Steve asks.

Robin says something, but it gets lost in the music and the dim light.

“Hettie?” Steve asks aloud.

Robin shakes her head. Sorry.

She finger spells, messing up once and throwing it out with a wave of her hands.

“Eddie?”

She nods.

Steve hits the next cue and uses the rest of the time to appreciate the view. Eddie really is hot, in his dark jeans and tattered tank top, grin on his face and quick-moving fingers. And Steve has never had a chance to talk to the talent, even if they’re nosy.

But Eddie was nosy because he was worried. It would almost be sweet if it wasn’t so condescending.

He didn’t mean for it to be, the terrible little rational part of Steve’s brain pipes up. And he apologized. Multiple times.

The bigger part of his brain reminds him that it doesn’t matter what Eddie meant it as. Steve effectively tanked any hope when he snapped at him before the show.

Oh God.

He has to do a whole tour with this guy. Who he was a total dick to.

Yikes. At least he has Robin, who is-

Currently staring at him and signing “horny.”

Steve smacks her again, which she laughs at and returns instantly before they focus back on their jobs. They’re professionals, goddammit.

Professionals who are already on less than stellar terms with one of the openers.

He’s so not looking forward to the next few weeks.

Tag list (this is not a regular thing for me but it was manageable this time!): @just-a-tiny-void @weirdandabsurd42 @satan-is-obsessed @honeysucklesinger @coyotepup345 @gayafmermaid @thegingerrapunzel

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

[shares-a-vest]

Happy MET Gala Day. I wrote some tags on THIS post and instantly got brainworms. cw: In this ficlet, Eddie calls Steve a slut but it is said with affection.

"Steve!" Eddie screams over his shoulder into the next room. But his voice only echoes around him, bouncing off the pristine white walls of the hotel room ensuite that he thinks is as big as his uncle's old trailer, "The car is gonna be here any minute!"

Silence.

He smoothes his hands down his lapel one last time and smiles at his reflection before he turns on his heel and rushes into the hotel suite where he finds Steve right where he left him, in a make-up chair getting all dolled up by Chrissy with Robin by his side.

She is asleep in a bedazzled bathrobe and honestly, Eddie would prefer to join her. Not only is attending the MET Gala an expensive evening (Eddie loathes to think how much money Steve has spent in the lead-up to all this), but it all involves being gawked at and judged and repeatedly asked the same three questions by the press who are just going to make him come off like a real asshole anyway.

"Just getting glam done," Steve says, grimacing as Robin gives a grunting snore.

"Stop eating those flowers, Erica..." she mumbles, dipping her head and nuzzling into the plushy warmth of her collar.

Chrissy rolls her eyes and steps back to examine her handiwork.

Whatever that is, Eddie can't really tell. Steve looks just like his regular pretty self with maybe a spot of shimmering blush. He opens his eyes, fluttering his lashes and – well yeah, whatever Chrissy did makes his eyes pop more than usual.

But those eyes quickly grow dark, shadowed by a frown when Steve gives Eddie a once over.

"Is that your outfit?" he accuses.

Eddie nods and does a little twirl only to spin back around to the sight of Steve pursing his lips.

So much for pleasantly surprising each other with their outfits – the only thing that had Eddie giving this whole deal an ounce of his attention.

"Well it isn't on theme," he continues, shrugging with a nonchalance that would give Anna Wintour herself a run for her money.

"What are you talking about?" Eddie defends, "I'm wearing lace!"

He flaps his jacket to reveal a sheer black lace shirt before lifting his touser legs enough to show off his matching socks.

Steve pinches his nose.

"Eddie, that is a bare minimum!"

Eddie flails his hand in the direction of Steve's barely-there shirt, a sheer number that shows all of his chest hair.

"Excuse me for not dressing like a total slut."

He blushes as Steve stands up to reveal a similarly sheer pair of pants (if you could call them that). Underneath is nothing short of a goddamn codpiece that Eddie is certain won't cover his boyfriend's whole ass and –

Robin snorts again, causing Chrissy to giggle.

She nudges her partner and Robin startles awake, almost tipping back in her makeup chair and Eddie realises that 'doing glam' has taken so goddamn long, all because Buckley decided she needed the world's biggest feathery eyelashes.

"Boring!" she says, taking one bleary-eyed look (if she can see through those bird wings, that is) at Eddie's outfit.

She blows a raspberry for good measure.

Steve turns, chuckling and yep – that is at least half of his ass hanging out in some sort of lace-assless-chaps-codpiece situation that has no business being anywhere but on their marital bed – or a paid-for hotel equivalent.

Maybe they should just stay right here, Eddie thinks as he looks, his mouth agape as he ogles the sight before him.

"Calm down, Eddie," Chrissy warns with a wicked grin.

"Well, it's far too late now for us to do anything about it," Steve pouts, throwing on a floral-embroidered vest that at least covers a shred of his modesty, "I told you to come see my stylist."

"What about my brooch!" Eddie shrieks, pointing to the diamond-encrusted rose pin just above his breast pocket, "It's crystal."

[cldhead]

barkeeper steve and ronance doodles <3

[goggles-mcgee]

Baker Steve and Rockstar Eddie AU is now going to be called What Baking Can Do (will i write it out? Someday. Hopefully soon)

Anyways I have more headcanons for the au

•Steve doesn't wear polos anymore because of the scar around his neck. His closet is literally filled with the softest sweaters and t-shirts he could get his hands on. The softness brings him comfort and feels nice on the scars.

•He always smells like baked goods and the kids love it. It's why they always give him hugs right when they see him, they love the smell and his hugs are so warm and just the best.

•All the kids help out at the bakery when they can, they think it's fun and plus! Job experience! El, Will and surprisingly Lucas all like to help out in the back, Steve teaches them his recipes and how to bake because these are his kids and they will be his legacy so he will teach them everything he can. Max, while not the best with customer service as well as Mike, are both really good at remembering peoples orders if they are sitting at the tables. Dustin is great as a greeter and handing people their to-go orders. Erica is the best taste-tester.

•Look, Steve is still hella popular with the ladies but now he's just so oblivious to their advances, like girls he went on dates with in high-school are trying to BAG this boy but he's always like, "Hang out? Sorry I can't Lucas has a game that day and I promised I'd make him basketball cupcakes."

"Lunch to catch up? I'd love to Brenda but the kids have their little Hotfire club thingy and I promised I would sit in for the session. Raincheck?"

"Dinner? Oh my god thank you for reminding me! We have a family dinner this weekend and I said I'd bring cornbread and a cake."

The kids think it's absolutely hilarious, like how dare you try to date our mom???? And yes they have purposefully "reminded" Steve of something he "promised."

•Eddie has witnessed this on one of his visits and he too finds it hilarious yet endearing. Like Steve may be a little dumb when it comes to people flirting with him but Eddie likes that in a man.

•Eddie is a romantic and absolutely brings Steve a bouquet every time he visits. He finds out quickly that sunflowers and roses are Steve's favorites.

•Eddie always enters the cafe loudly announcing, "HONEY I'M HOME!" Steve grumbles that he's disturbing the customers but he loves it. He always gets the biggest smile when Eddie comes in.

He especially loves hearing that phrase when Eddie's been gone for awhile due to a tour or something of the like.

•Once Steve finds out who Eddie is he tracks down some of his records to listen to and finds he actually likes some of the songs so when Eddie came in next time Steve absolutely just rambled on and on about how much he loved the songs and told Eddie what he liked about them and Eddie is just slowly melting into a puddle hiding behind his hair.

•Steve let's the kids and Robin play whatever music they want when they are working but when he's by himself he absolutely plays ABBA, The Cure, Wham, David Bowie or Prince.

Eddie loves this ridiculous man despite the Wham

•Steve will absolutely close the cafe if one of the kids call him and they're sad, just plain having a bad day or if they are having an emergency. He doesn't care if it's a rush, or if you need your banana bread right now Bethany, his kids need him.

•When Eddie first started visiting and the kids didn't run into him due to conflicting schedules and what not, he finds out quickly that Steve doesn't know who he is so he has no problem giving Steve his name. (He holds himself back from asking if Steve likes his last name enough to take it)

They slowly start to get to know each other and Eddie tells Steve he writes songs and Steve just declares that he's sure Eddie is great at it despite not reading any of Eddie's songs or listening to the man sing and when Eddie point that out Steve just huffy.

"You're an amazing guy Eddie who has seen and done so much. It's not hard to believe that you are talented at writing songs. You really have a way with words!"

And Eddie just wants to lay on the floor, this boy is too precious. He can't.

•When Robin is down on her days off from school and working at the cafe, her and Steve wear matching "uniforms" which is really her just snatching one of his sweaters (of course matching colors), putting on her apron and she always insists they switch name tags.

Steve always rolls his eyes but he also always does it. That's how regulars know Robin is back because Steve will be wearing the nametag 'Robin'

•They absolutely decorate the cage for every holiday. They go all out and it's always the most fun Steve has had on holidays.

Christmas: Him, Robin and the kids get ugly sweaters to wear for the cafe

Halloween: costumes but Robin and Steve are always Batman and Robin because they think it's funny.

Valentine's Day: Argyle made them shirts with neon colored Sweethearts Candies on them and they wear them every time.

Thanksgiving: Robin thinks it's hilarious for her and Steve to dress like vegetables. Dustin likes to be the Turkey. (Steve is almost always the corn)

•They do decorate the cafe for any member in the family's birthday for the day even if they're not having the party there.

•Eddie absolutely starts writing songs about Steve and that's how his band mates find out about him because they catch him singing the songs and other love songs.

•Eddie loves his band but he doesn't tell them where he goes when he goes to visit Steve, they share a lot, practically everything and he will introduce Steve to them and them to Steve but he doesn't do it right away because 1. He's wooing the man of his dreams 2. He just wants it to be for himself for a while

He does offer them treats though as an apology/bribe

•Eddie loves the kids but he is also terrified of them. Yes they are fans of his, but they clock in on the fact he wants to date Steve so fast and they each give him separate shovel talks. They make sure Steve doesn't see them do it though.

•Eddie fully thinks Steve is this super tender, sweet, sarcastic guy who wouldn't hurt a fly until he witnesses Steve defend him from an overzealous fan (which felt more like a stalker) that had followed them after they had had lunch at this local diner.

The fan had tried to get grabby. Had tried to take a "souvenir."

Steve has a mean right hook.

Steve so looked so proud of himself that he knocked the fucker out. He even put his hands on his hips and smiled all cutesy, "I won a fight!"

Which that sentence isn't terrifying right?

That was their first kiss. Also might have been the night Eddie confessed.

[penny00dreadful]

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

“Shit. Things move fast in this timeline, don’t they?”

Eddie turned his head and froze, staring wide eyed at the third figure standing next to them.

It was him, he was older and wearing glasses but it was Steve. He was greyer than Eddie’s future self, with a haircut that looked almost the exact same as Future-Robin’s and currently distractingly bare-chested, ripping up a cotton t-shirt into makeshift bandages with a sweater thrown over his shoulder. 

He wasn’t as muscular as his twenty year old self, but still devastatingly handsome, still strong with the same smattering of chest hair and a simple gold band on his ring finger.

Yeah.

He’d fuck fifty-something year old Steve.

“C’mon. Battle vest off. We gotta switch those out.”

Eddie had to drag his eyes away from Future-Steve’s chest and back up to his face as he spoke, immediately going red when he was caught. His Steve rolled his head to the side, only sparing his future self a glance before nodding and starting to shrug his way out of the denim. 

Eddie and Future-Steve reached out to help. “Careful. Mind his back.” They took the weight of the denim off Steve’s body and Eddie tucked it under his arm.

He ran his fingers down Steve’s arm before grasping his hand as Future-Steve dropped to his knees to start undoing the bandages wound around his waist and oh boy Eddie should not be thinking the kind of fucked up things he was thinking right now.

“You ready? This is gonna suck ass.”

Steve nodded. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Just get it over with.” He pushed his face into Eddie’s neck with a groan as the bandages were quickly peeled off and bit down on the collar of his leather jacket when the new bandages were mercilessly pulled tight.

Eddie gripped at the back of Steve’s head with his free hand while his other hand was being crushed in Steve’s grip.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re doing so good, baby. Just a little more.” He whispered into Steve’s hair, not really giving a singular fuck at that moment, trying to talk him through until it was over.

“Alright. I have enough fabric left over for your arms but not enough for your back I’m afraid.”

Future-Steve got to his feet again and began to wind the remnants of the cotton shirt around Steve’s biceps.

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” Steve protested, but didn’t pull away. Future-Steve rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips once he was done, muttering “So that’s what it’s like to be on the other side.”

Eddie helped Steve back into his battle vest, placing the weight gingerly over his shoulders, trying not to irritate the road rash over his back. He glanced back over to find Steve’s future counterpart watching him closely with tender eyes.

“God, look at you.” He reached up and tugged at one of Eddie’s curls. “You’re so young.”

If this is what Steve looked like in the future… 

If this is how he looked at him?

No wonder his future self was still pining. 

Eddie had to avert his gaze for his own sanity, trying to fight away the redness crawling up his face but it was a futile attempt because his eyes just landed on his grey haired chest again. His chest, his stomach, his scars…

The scars.

Those old long healed scars that he’d already seen in a photo with black lace and-

No.

No fucking way!

“Hey! The kids are on their way to the trailer par-” His future counterpart's voice petered off as he rounded the corner of the stairs and took in the sight in front of him. “Stevie, what is with you getting topless in the Upside-Down? Also what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Ellie called.”

“Of course she did. And you didn’t want to miss the reunion?”

“Didn’t want to let you get your ass handed to you again.”

Future-Eddie rolled his eyes before bounding down the last few steps and throwing himself into Future-Steve’s arms. 

The hug was weird.

Stilted. 

Like they were trying to hold back from doing more, which if Eddie's recent revelation was true, was probably to try and save his and Steve’s sanity from the revelation that they were fucking married?!

The rest of the group crashed down the stairs, surrounding Steve to see if he was okay. In the mess of distraction as the two Robin's started interrogating the two Steve's, Eddie grabbed his own time traveller by the upper arm and dragged him out of earshot.

"Ow! What the fuck, man?"

"I need to talk to you because I'm kinda freaking out."

Future-Eddie shook out his arm. "About?"

Eddie leaned his weight onto the wall behind him, thunking his head back a few times before taking a deep breath in.

"Is it him?"

Future-Eddie looked at him, blinking his familiar deep brown eyes and pursing his lips before nodding slowly.

"Oh Jesus." He put his head in his hands. "Oh fuck. How? Why? How?"

"I have no fucking idea, man." His future counterpart shrugged. "I just count my lucky stars."

"How do you keep your hands to yourself?"

"With great difficulty, I assure you. How did you figure it out? Were we really that obvious?"

"No. I, uh- I saw the photo. I didn't see a face but I saw the scars. And," he waved his hand back towards the group where Future-Steve was thankful fully clothed again, "the scars."

"Ahh… shit. Sorry about that. Spoilers, I guess? But you two already seem to be moving faster than we were on our go around."

"Really?"

"Yeah, man. We danced around each other until Halloween."

"Hey, hi, hello there Double-Trouble. We need to head out if we're gonna get to Forest Hills on time." Future-Steve leaned his elbow on his husband's (what the fuck) shoulder.

Eddie shook his head and tried to get his brain back online. "Why are we going there?"

Steve's smile was just as heart melting thirty-seven years in the future as it was now and Eddie wasn't sure how he'd survive.

"The kids are busting you guys out. And our own exit strategy is there too."

"What is our exit strategy?"

"Ellie said we'd know it when we see it."

Future-Eddie rolled his eyes. "Cryptic."

There weren't enough bikes for all of them so Eddie watched as his future self giddily sat on the bike seat in what was a pathetically transparent excuse to wrap his arms and legs around his husband as Future-Steve pedalled.

Eddie was almost jealous he hadn't thought of it himself except for the fact that his Steve's waist was chewed up to shit. So Steve sat behind Future-Robin, sniggering with her as they cycled, swapping out halfway through so his Steve was pedalling and his Robin was perched on the handlebars.

The gate in the ceiling of his trailer pulsed grotesquely, a thin film of something was stretched over the opening, turning his stomach.

He shoved every thought of Chrissy into the back of his mind.

Something pushed against the gate, poking through, causing their group to jump back but the future trio remained calm as though this was expected.

What wasn't expected was the competing looks of irritation, exasperation, confusion and pride that passed through all three faces at what they saw above.

"What the hell are you three doing here?!" Future-Steve called up towards the gate. 

"Do you think you can just run off on some world saving mission without us finding out?" A woman's voice called through followed by a scoff. "Honestly, do you even remember who you're dealing with, dad?"

"Dad?" Steve whispered next to him and before anyone could stop him, he'd darted forward to stare up through the portal, followed quickly by the rest of the group.

Eddie looked up and saw three girls, his girls, his daughters standing in a patch of grass staring up at all of them wide eyed.

"Woah, you two really did used to go all in on the hair, huh?" The one he recognised as Cassie said, a cheeky smirk on her face. "I mean it's one thing seeing it in photos, it's another seeing it in person."

"Hey, watch it, Little Star. It's good hair." Eddie's future self scowled, pointing up towards them.

Cassie rolled her eyes. "Never said it wasn't, pops."

Eddie could feel hig group's eyes on him, flitting between himself, Steve and the girls above. Steve's gaze was burning into the side of his head but he couldn't look away, not from this, not from his future.

"The three of you still haven't answered me. What are you doing here? How did you even find out?" Steve’s future self had his hands on his hips again.

The oldest girl, Rhea, looked like she was fit to burst, practically clamping her hand over her mouth and vibrating with excitement.

The middle girl, Poppy, shrugged the tow rope off her shoulder, holding it up. "Aunt Ellie called. We're your exit strategy."

Future Steve and Eddie glanced at each other.

"We're gonna have words with her once all this is over."

"She didn't have any other option! You three were stuck and everyone else is already at the Lab!"

"What?!” Future-Steve shouted. “Fuck. We have to go."

"Shit. Okay." Eddie's future counterpart grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away from the portal before enveloping him into a crushing hug.

"Listen to me, everything's going to be alright. It's gonna be shit hard sometimes and you're gonna have to fight for it. You're gonna have to fight so hard but it's worth it. I promise you. It's all so worth it. You're gonna be okay, do you hear me? You're gonna be okay."

Eddie looked at his future self and thought back to everything he’d learned so far. How he’d spoken to him, how he’d talked about his kids, how he’d talked about his husband, about Steve. He wrapped his arms around his waist tightly, reciprocating the hug and whispering, "I think I would've liked to have a dad like you."

"That was the goal." Future-Eddie squeezed him tight, before eventually pulling back. He gave his hair one last ruffle before he moved onto his next round of goodbyes, Future-Steve taking his place.

“It's kinda trippy seeing you so young again.” He said, pulling Eddie against that chest.

Oh Christ, he wasn’t able for this. Yeah, the guy was in his mid-fifties and married (to him, what a mindfuck), but he was still a painfully attractive man.

“It’s kinda trippy seeing you grey.” He really tried not to stick his nose into his neck but it was a damn losing battle when it was right there.

He felt Future-Steve laugh against him before he pulled back. “Still look good though?”

“Shit. Yeah, you still look good.” Eddie grinned.

“Hey, you know I- he- he’ll always be there for you, right?”

“I’m starting to.”

Next came the two Robins. Robin’s future self grasped him by the shoulder, turning him a little so his back was to the rest of the group and pulling the two of them into a tight hug.

“Okay little babies. Always use protection, don’t get anyone pregnant, as soon as a company called Google makes itself known, invest. Look forward to your first pride parade together. It’s gonna be wild. Eddie, don’t be so hung up on the semantics of DnD and metal all the time. Robin, babe, relax every so often. Also DnD is kinda fun. I didn’t have to get married to Steve for a safety net, but it was a close call. Eddie, if they do get married, do not buy the yellow suit I know you were planning to try to stick him in.”

Underneath her rambling Eddie could hear frantic whispering behind him from the rest of the group. When he tried to pull out of the hug to look behind, he was tugged back in firmly, keeping him in place.

He raised an awkward hand to pat Future-Robin on the back, confused but relaxing into the hold regardless.

“Uh…” Future-Robin seemed like she was casting around for more things to say. “Cryptocurrencies are a scam. Steve doesn’t have rabies, so you can stop worrying about that, mini me. But maybe watch out for his eyesight. Make sure you put Prima Nocta in the wedding playlist, he’ll lose his mind but it’ll be so funny. There’s a few of the kids that are gonna come to the two of you with some very personal shit and you need to try to handle it like grown-ups but you’ll probably- oh thank god.”

She finally released the two of them, sounding relieved that her rambling was over with.

Eddie and Robin blinked at each other, confused.

“You’re getting eccentric in your old age.” He nudged her.

“Hey!” Future-Robin flicked him on the nose. “Who’re you calling old? Don’t make me put you in a time out, squirt.”

He turned to try to catch the eye of anyone else to impart ‘you seeing this shit’ energy but instead he found Nancy pale faced and angry, resolutely staring at the wall like she wanted to fight it and Steve…

Steve was looking at him like he would disappear at any second. Similarly pale faced but worried and afraid. He found himself immediately gravitating towards him.

“Are you okay?” He asked, just barely touching his fingers to Steve’s wrist.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Steve tried to laugh it off but it fell painfully flat.

Eddie glanced back at their future counterparts as the tow rope fell through the portal, hanging in mid air. 

Freaky.

He looked back at Steve who hadn’t even noticed, still looking at him like he was trying to memorise his face.

“Did they tell you something?”

Steve curled his fist into the lapel of Eddie’s leather jacket, holding on so tight his knuckles went white. Once his hand relaxed, still holding on, but looser this time, Steve’s expression had smoothed out, giving him a small easy smile.

“Just to keep an eye on you. Said you’re a real troublemaker.”

Eddie searched his face. His smile was easy however his eyes were still worried, but he seemed to want to drop the subject. Eddie wanted to pry, he wanted to know exactly what had been said, what had he missed but he didn’t really know Steve yet. He didn’t know if he was reading the situation wrong or if he’d be the type of guy to close off if pushed. 

So he didn’t push.

“Sounds like me.”

Steve laughed, though it was really more of a strained exhale. “Yeah.” He muttered. “Sounds like you.” He released his grip on the leather jacket and turned back towards the group who were now gathered around the portal, but stuck close to Eddie's side.

They rejoined everyone and looked up at the three girls. Cassie was hanging off the rope, testing its weight while Rhea and Poppy were hissing at each other. 

Rhea still had a hand clamped over her mouth.

“Honey, you look like you’re about to burst.” Future-Steve called out. “What’s eating you?”

"Poppy met a boy!" She blurted out, clamping her hand back over her mouth and immediately being shoved by the sister in question.

"Dude!"

“I’m sorry!”

Future-Steve snapped his head up at the revelation. “Here in Hawkins? A Hawkins boy? Who?!”

“No one-”

“Jacob!” Rhea squeaked through her hand.

“Ugh.” Future-Eddie grimaced. “‘J’ name.” 

“What’s his last name? Who’re his parents?”

Poppy crossed her arms. “Why does it matter?”

“Because that’s information I need to know!”

“Why? You gonna stop me from seeing him?”

“I can’t stop you from doing shit but I have a right as your father to grumble about it!”

“Well I don’t know, dad! I didn’t exactly get a family history from him when he was giving us directions!”

“I swear to god.” Future-Eddie ran his hand down his face and turned to his husband. “If we ran hundreds of miles away from Hawkins only for one of our kids to end up back here I’m gonna lose my mind.”

A loud crack sounded through the portal causing the three girls to jump and turn around.

“Holy shit.” They said at the same time.

“What?! What is happening over there, fuck, we’ve got to go, Robin. C’mon, up.” Future-Steve frantically waved his Robin over.

“There’s nothing to break the fall!” She shouted.

“So you better not break anything when you fall.”

“Har-har. Alright,” she called up through the portal, “are you listening Little Miss Cheerleader? You better be there to catch me!”

“I’m a flyer, I don’t catch, I get caught!” Cassie called back. “Keep your knees and elbows loose and try to roll with the momentum!”

“Shit. Okay. Gimme a boost, Steve.”

He hoisted Robin up, practically sending her through the portal on her own without the rope. She tumbled out onto the other side landing with a clumsy roll and a groan, but was uninjured, helped to her feet by Cassie and Rhea.

“That was not as fun this time around! And it’s a longer drop now that the trailer is gone!” She called back up to them.

Eddie turned his eyes back onto his future self. “Why’s the trailer gone?”

He shrugged. “It’s a crime scene. You’ll get set up in a nicer place, don’t worry about it.”

“There’s a lot I seem to be ‘not worrying about’ these days.” He grumbled as his future self clapped him on the shoulder.

“Just wait until you have teenage daughters. See you on the other side, kiddos!” He stepped in front of the tow rope, but instead of creating a bridge with his hands for Future-Eddie to step into, Future-Steve just grabbed him firmly around the hips and effortlessly lifted him upwards.

It really wasn’t the time for it, it really wasn’t the time for it but Eddie suddenly felt the need for some smelling salts or a white lace handkerchief to wave in front of his face or something.

His future self landed with far less grace than Robin had but Cassie did dart out this time to stop him from completely faceplanting.

“Okay.” Future-Steve turned back to them, one hand on the rope. “Be good, kids. Remember what I said, mind the vents, find a different spot for Erica and as soon as he goes through the attic window, get back downstairs and finish it.” He directed the last two statements towards Steve and Nancy before giving a dorky two finger salute and starting to make his climb upwards.

Future-Steve had barely landed (without help, the showoff) back in his own time before there was a gruesome sucking sound the portal began to grow another layer of slime skin, cutting off their future and past selves and severing the tow rope in one fell swoop.

Silence was only able to settle around the four of them for a few seconds before something was pushed back against the portal. With a great squelch the skin was broken again.

Though this time it wasn’t grass and their future selves staring back but the grinning faces of Dustin, Max, Lucas and Erica in the Rightside-Up version of Eddie’s trailer.

Over the next day, they formulated their plan to defeat Vecna. Both Steve and Nancy would occasionally jump in front of a suggestion with a simple explanation of ‘that won’t work’ .

When Eddie and Dustin suggested they act as a distraction for the bats with the most metal concert in the world, both Nancy and Steve shouted a firm ‘No!’ before they could stop themselves.

Eddie wasn’t an idiot, he knew they had been told something that, for whatever reason, hadn’t been shared with him and Robin but now wasn’t exactly the time to pry. 

As long as he made it out of this with all his limbs intact he supposed he could let it be.

Setting up the stereo away from the trailer park should have worked in theory. They had plenty of time to turn it on and bike back to the portal, keeping a healthy distance between themselves and danger.

But when the bats descended too quickly and he watched Dustin run inside, expecting Eddie to follow because why wouldn’t he, he took his opportunity to lock the door and draw them away. 

By the time the bats dropped and he was able to stumble his way back to the trailer, Dustin had the door broken off its hinges. He was pissed but relieved that Eddie was okay. Yeah, his sides had been pretty badly chewed up but it was nothing worse than what had happened to Steve. 

Steve and Nancy, however, were incandescent with rage and panic when they got back and saw him bloodied, only really calming down when both he and Dustin started arguing back, confused and bewildered about why they were acting like someone died when they should be celebrating, considering they’d just confirmed Vecna was definitely gone.

He spent the next month holed up in Steve’s house with Wayne, waiting for his name to be cleared.

Barely a week of that living arrangement had passed before they shared their first kiss, wrapped up in their softest clothes in the middle of a scary movie marathon that neither were really paying attention to. 

There were a lot of firsts that night.

It was during a particularly heated argument a couple of weeks later between Eddie and Steve that he learned why Steve was so insistent on taking rigorous care of Eddie’s bites even though his own went mostly neglected.

He learned he had nearly died in the other timeline because of the bites he and got it, he did. But this wasn’t the other timeline, this was their own one.

Memories of their future selves were already starting to slip away piece by piece and Eddie didn’t want to spend the rest of his life dwelling, trying to live up to or keep track of his other self. This was his life and he was going to make mistakes but he was going to make the most of it too.

“Make the most of it with me?” He asked Steve holding out his hand and sitting next to him in what was essentially their bed, guest rooms be damned. 

Steve looked down at Eddie’s hand then back up to his eyes before allowing a small smile to crack through his worried expression.

Steve nodded before linking their fingers together.

“Okay.”

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

-

Oh my god, oh my god you guys. I don't know where you all came from but I'm so happy you're here. For my small dinky little blog this story completely blew up and I have not been able to get over it all day. I had a cocktail of happy chemicals absoloutly ruining my productivity at work today and I could not be more thankful.

Thank you for your sweet and kind words, each one sent me into a happy, smiley mess and I'm so completely floored that people like this story so much. Thank you all for coming on this journey with me.

XOXO Penny

🖤

Tag list: @epiclazershark, @estrellami-1, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @addelyin, @deadflowercollector, @every-aj-needs-an-angel, @avacrebs, @silversnaffles, @sharingisntkaren, @marsbars97, @bidisastersworld, @theghostinmymachine, @panicatthediaz, @daydreaming-mood, @notaqueenakhaleesi, @minjintea, @u-a-wizard-jamie, @dropiv04, @mad-h-w, @immortal-iratze, @nburkhardt, @birdsandorbees, @gregre369

[shybunnie20]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

★My Masterlist

Summary: After some time in the spotlight, Eddie returns to Hawkins and finds that his unfinished confession to his best friend awaits him.

Author's Note: Here's a little something I wrote while I've been chipping away at my other WIPs. It’s way longer than I expected but I'm happy with how it turned out. The angst is very mild and it has a happy ending!

AU with no Upside Down, no use of y/n, established past friendship, Eddie and reader graduated the same year but ages aren't specified, focuses on Eddie's POV, proofread to an extent.

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of sex, includes swearing

After posing for the cover of the latest Metal Edge magazine, Eddie was eager to head back home ASAP. While he enjoys his time on the East Coast, he was really looking forward to some much-needed downtime. As he boarded his private jet and set off, everything was going according to plan. However, the weather decided that he was going to make a pit stop. Rather, an emergency landing.

Plans get derailed and unpredictability is a part of the lifestyle. When your private jet is just about plucked from the sky during a lightning storm, finding a place to land is imperative, no matter the location. In this instance, his jet touched down in Indianapolis. Hopes of catching a taxi to Hawkins were dashed. No taxi driver in their right mind would willingly brave the distance from the city to the suburb in that weather. Eddie was left with one person to call upon—the man whom Eddie had been considering visiting for quite some time.

Wayne was surprised to receive the phone call but he agreed to pick Eddie up from the airport without hesitation. They haven’t been staying in touch as of late; Eddie’s life is nothing short of a whirlwind consisting of sold-out arenas and constant travel. Getting a hold of his nephew became a challenging feat. Wayne rarely got past speaking to Eddie’s assistants.

It was his uncle’s rare day off and calls at that time of night were few and far between. So, when Wayne’s canary yellow phone practically leaped off of the hook, he was astonished. After making the drive through the pattering rain, Wayne retrieved a sulking Eddie from Concourse B. As Eddie settled into the passenger seat of the fixer-upper, exhaustion from his turbulent journey was evident.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up with a protesting ache in his lower back, the result of a night spent on the pull-out couch. As he sits up straight, he lets out a low groan, vocalizing how his body yearns for the luxurious embrace of the Egyptian cotton sheets that are fitted around his California king mattress. They lay chilled without him, thousands of miles away in his opulent hillside mansion in Beverly Hills.

As he stretches in an attempt to unknot the tension between his shoulder blades, Eddie takes in his surroundings. He stumbled through the front door so late last night that he had no energy left to get reacquainted with his childhood home. He even wound up sleeping in his designer jeans, the coarse denim a far cry from the plush pajamas he would normally change into before bed.

A gentle grin forms on Eddie’s lips upon feeling comforted by the familiarity of the room. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the simple life that Wayne brought him up in. Eddie gazes around, noticing the subtle changes such as the addition of new mugs and hats to their respective displays. One particular change catches his attention and draws a fond exhale from his stale lungs. The worn-out doormat, which was torn to hell when he was a teenager, was finally replaced.

Despite his internal clock being out of whack, Eddie’s brain knows when it’s time for a cup of jitter juice. He rises from the rickety mattress, his back cracking loudly at the extension. A moan of discomfort slips out as he winces at the pinch at the base of his neck. “Jesus, fuck,” he mutters aloud. Eddie makes a mental note to buy Wayne a new sofa.

His socked feet slide across the linoleum as he steps into the kitchen. He notices that the bedroom door is closed, though it’s doing very little to dampen the loud snoring emitting behind it. Eddie yawns as he grinds his fists into his eyes, causing a splash of tingling colors across the darkness of his lids. He approaches the corner cupboard, knowing that what he’s looking for will be in the same place it always has been. The cabinet door greets him with a squeak and he’s met with a single dented can of Folgers. That shit is practically varnish remover, it simply won’t do.

Eddie sighs as the craving for his favorite Italian coffee intensifies. It’s so rich, flavorful, smooth, and yet, it packs a punch. Just the thought of the hazelnut dark roast takes him back to the first time he ever tried it in Trieste. From that moment on, he needed it imported back home.

Well, the java situation is a bust. For the time being, Eddie has a choice. Either charred slices of Wonderbread or plain cornflakes. AKA, buttered plywood or a bowl of sawdust. Ew and ew. Settling for the arguably more exciting option, Eddie decides on toast. Each bite into the brittle slice causes dark crumbs to scatter into his open palm that he holds beneath his chin. He can’t be bothered to get a plate, even as an adult. The burnt bits accumulate in his hand as he continues to nibble. While Eddie brushes his palms over the sink to rid himself of crumbs, he catches sight of the magazine clipping held to the fridge door by a Tweety Bird magnet. Frozen in time on glossy paper is a photo of him at the American Music Awards last year. “Damn, I looked good.” He smirks as he recalls the tailored suit, the lapels encrusted with dazzling gems, and his pale bare chest blinding the paparazzi from beneath it. The memories of that night come rushing, the flashing cameras and the cheers of his fans.

With his tummy partially pleased but the craving for quality coffee intensifying, Eddie recalls that there’s only one good place around here to get a quality cup of Joe. Eddie takes a brisk shower to wash away the residual stickiness that clings to his skin from a night spent fully clothed in the stuffy trailer. He dresses in the most pedestrian outfit that’s in his suitcase, hoping to blend in as much as possible, and heads out. 

Eddie’s stride carries him through the glass door of Morningside Café, the cheerful bell above it announces his arrival. The café is bustling, as one would expect on a Saturday morning. The patrons have come for their morning pick-me-up, much like Eddie.

Initially, he considers keeping his onyx-lensed sunglasses on, a barrier that would shield him from potential recognition and the commotion that would ensue. But he decides to take them off, knowing that he might stick out if he’s wearing sunglasses indoors. Eddie tucks one of the folded arms of the frame into the collar of his t-shirt. To his surprise, nobody reacts. No one gasps or falls to their knees at his feet. The world around him continues to turn. Part of him yearns for the ego boost that comes with being recognized but, all in all, he’s relieved to experience a semblance of normalcy for the first time in what feels like an eternity.

Taking a moment to soak in his surroundings, Eddie’s gaze sweeps across the interior of the shop. His eyes linger on the display case where flaky pastries drizzled with chocolate and caramel sauces are housed. The cabin-esque aesthetic warms the soul with rich wood tones and a brick fireplace. It stands dormant, flameless, because it’s too warm out for a fire this time of year.

Beside the fireplace sit two figures that catch his attention. Even from a short distance, Eddie recognizes the mane of luscious locks, a signature feature that only belongs to one person. He strolls over with excitement tugging at his chest.

“Excuse me,” Eddie’s voice is hushed as he addresses the two figures engrossed in conversation. “Do you happen to know if the creamer here is fat-free?”

Steve and Robin’s dialogue comes to an abrupt halt, their voices silenced by the unexpected interruption. They exchange a glance, their eyebrows raising in unison. Simultaneously, their heads turn to peer over their shoulders. And there he stands, Eddie, someone they never thought they’d see again.

Steve gets to his feet a beat faster than Robin and he’s all smiles. “Look what the cat dragged in!”

“Must be an expensive cat,” Robin quips while she eyes Eddie, a quick assessment that catches details he overlooked in his haste to blend in. Her comment refers to the flashy jewelry he neglected to take off. “Persian, right? Those are the goblin-looking ones that rich people like? Ugly little fluff balls, if you ask me.”

Eddie’s sigh carries relief, expressing his genuine pleasure in knowing that Robin remains candid and unfiltered, just as he remembers her. As he extends his hand, Steve meets him with a firm handshake.

A friendly slap on the shoulder from Steve follows. “What brings you to this god-forsaken town?” His question is punctuated by true curiosity and a hint of humor, alluding to Eddie’s past that has kept him from ever returning up until now.

 “I was in the area,” Eddie replies with a sense of restraint, deliberately avoiding the true source of his change in plans. “Figured I'd swing by to see what’s what.”

Robin gestures for Eddie to take the seat opposite of them. They all settle into their mahogany-colored chairs. Eddie shifts awkwardly, the denim of his jeans dragging on the leather noisily.

With her elbows digging into her knees, Robin leans forward and supports her chin with her balled fists, positioned to hear the greatest story in her life. “So?” 

Eddie blinks dumbly, bemusement evident on his face. “What?” 

Reclined deeply into his chair, Steve rests his hands on his belly with interlocked fingers. “Enlighten us. Where the hell did ya go?”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes, “Well, uh, I migrated west and lived in my van for a while. Then I found an ad in the paper for a spare bedroom in a janky apartment. I did the roommate thing for a bit and then- I dunno,” He twists the grim reaper-shaped ring around the base of his middle finger. “Things just worked out, I guess.”

Robin blows a raspberry and sits back into a less anticipatory position. “Long story short, huh? The last I saw, you were on the red carpet escorting Heather Locklear.”

Her reference to Eddie’s past event appearance draws a smirk from him, feeling a sense of satisfaction in knowing that his old friends have been keeping up with the big things he’s been doing. While she encourages Eddie to delve into the details of his daily life, Steve looks across the room at you. Your nose is to the grindstone, your hands working deftly to maintain the rhythm that ensures that the orders are being fulfilled in a timely manner.

Opening shifts are the worst, for the customers and the employees alike. Nobody is at their friendliest due to the dark clouds of exhaustion hanging over everyone’s heads. Not to mention, regulars have their quirks. Some are particularly anal—specifying exact temperatures for their flavored fuel. They scrutinize your every move, even going as far as monitoring the thermometer to ensure that their demands are met.

The grind of the morning rush is draining, yet, you soldier on. You wipe away spilled coffee grounds from the countertop and amidst the clatter and constant flow of orders, you catch Steve staring right at you. His expression is peculiar, his arched brows paired with a subtle curve to his lips. You tilt your head inquisitively at him. What?

Steve subtly points across from him and mouths, Eddie Munson.

Your hand freezes mid-motion, the damp rag caught between your palm and the solution-streaked surface. Instinct takes over as you lean onto your tiptoes, straining to catch a glimpse over the top of the coffee machine. And no shit, there’s that head of chocolate curls. Your pulse spikes as apprehension floods your belly. Returning your gaze to Steve, you mouth back to him, oh my god.

Steve’s frantic wave beckons you over, his urgency not leaving room for subtlety. Eddie takes notice of Steve and he looks to see who he’s motioning to. Your eyes meet and for a split second, utter disbelief is mirrored on both of your faces.

You panic and duck out of sight, retreating to the relative cover near the floor. Your thoughts race, your heartbeat pounding twice that. “What the actual fuck is he doing here?” you ask yourself, unable to grapple with the overwhelming emotions.

Eddie’s heavy-footed steps carry him up to the counter, the air around him feeling electrically charged, making his arm hair stand up straight. His chest constricts as he approaches the ledge and looks behind it. There you are, sitting on the floor with your legs pulled close to your chest and your forehead against your knees.

“Sweetheart,” he chuckles airily, though his brows are pulled together as to why you’re down there.

Reluctantly, you lift your head and meet his eyes. A sheepish grin tugs at your lips and you can’t help but scrunch your nose. “Eddie, hi!”

“Whatcha doin’ down there?” he asks playfully, then catching his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to suppress the smile that threatens to form. “Almost looks like you’re tryin’ to hide from me.”

You shake your head, only slightly annoyed at his amusement. “I’m just busted, aren’t I?” As you get to your feet, you wipe your palms on your apron before rounding the corner of the counter.

Eddie’s arms are already outstretched before you’re even in full view. You find yourself stepping forward to meet his embrace. The hug is brief, not quite as long as Eddie would’ve liked it to be. His beaming smile accompanies his glittering stare as it follows your features, studying the subtle changes since he saw you last. “Long time no see,” he teases with the lick of his lip.

You’ve already taken a step back, creating a bit of space between the two of you. With a deep breath, you nod. “Tell me about it, it’s been like what, six years?” It’s your turn to trace the contours of his face.

You’ve seen the tabloids on the racks in the supermarket, the pages that showcase his exhilarating career. You’ve seen his music videos on MTV. Regardless of the set design and general concept, there’s a constant—Eddie, partially naked with jeans slung low on his hips, surrounded by bleach-blonde stunners hanging off of him one way or another. He always stood tall, an embodiment of untouchability despite being touched just about everywhere by sets of cherry-painted fingernails. His image has become synonymous with charismatic magnetism and sex appeal.

And now, he’s standing right in front of you. Eddie’s silver nose ring catches the overhead lighting, a rebellious contrast to the well-groomed beard that frames his jaw. He has far more tattoos than he had when you were friends.

The dangling layers of necklaces twinkle like constellations. While you hugged him, you recognized his natural scent which was mostly the same, but with a faint woody undertone. The cologne he wears seems to have become one with his clothes, the scent being inseparable from him no matter how many times the article is washed.

Eddie also looks stronger and his physical presence is more defined. His slim frame matured into something more substantial, and his muscles are built and bound with raw talent.

It’s a curious juxtaposition to see him in such plain clothes. He almost resembles the Eddie that you knew, feeling both familiar and transformed, an evolution you’re struggling to take in all at once.

“Yeah, coming up on six. Feels like it’s been longer than that,” Eddie replies, the joy in his voice unconcealed. He shamelessly looks over your uniform, the baby blue polo shirt beneath the navy apron, with his interest plain for anyone to see. He took in your scent too. Your natural smell blended with coffee, and it struck a chord within him. The combination of the two is better than his beloved Italian coffee beans alone.

“How long are you in town for?” You inquire while playing with the hem of your apron. Meanwhile, you shift your weight on the balls of your feet, attempting to soothe yourself with the rocking motion.

Eddie sucks air through his teeth with resignation. “Just today, actually.”

“Oh,” you mumble, your expression subtly crestfallen at the news of his limited stay. “That’s too bad. You really can’t stay any longer?”

“I wish I could but stopping by wasn’t exactly on my to-do list. I was flying home from New York and then my jet-”

You’re startled as your supervisor’s voice booms from behind you, yanking you back to reality. Her words are stern, reprimanding you for being distracted. She scolds, saying that the line is twice as long as it should be. A quick glance at your coworker makes you feel guilty, seeing as he’s struggling to keep up with taking and filling orders by himself.

“Shit,” you mutter under your breath, “Coming!” With a final moment of eye contact with Eddie, you offer him a rueful smile. “Sorry, duty calls,” As you turn and make your way back to your station, you call out to Eddie over your shoulder. “It was great to see you.”

The sentiment hangs in the air, one that Eddie wishes you had a chance to elaborate on. But, time is of the essence and you’re already back to filling cups without waiting for his response. For a few seconds, Eddie watches you seamlessly shift back into work mode as if he isn’t there anymore. Returning to Steve and Robin, he’s met with pointed looks that are laden with interest. The weight of the encounter, the unexpected vulnerability he felt looking into your eyes, settles on his shoulders. As Eddie returns to the seat across from them, he slumps down with a pout.

Robin’s brows furrow at his sudden change in demeanor. “Why the long face? Didn’t you ask her out?”

Eddie’s response is a sullen half-note while he stares fixedly at a speck of mud on Steve’s shoe. “No,” he says, “I didn’t, and quite frankly, I don’t think she’d even want to.” In the way that Eddie is carrying himself, it’s obvious that his insecurities have been stirred up. “You should’ve seen the way she looked at me. It was like she hardly recognized me.”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes. “I dunno, man. Kinda hard to believe a hot shot like you can’t get whatever girl he sets his sights on.”

That remark sparks something within Eddie, a realization that switches his perspective. Steve’s words hit home—he’s Eddie fucking Munson. A Grammy award-winning recording artist for Christ’s sake. Casanova, heavy hitter, ladies’ man. His confidence resurfaces, becoming acutely aware of the charm he can whip out whenever he needs it; he’s well equipped for this moment.

Summoning the deepest breath he’s ever taken, Eddie rises to his feet once again, feeling sure of himself this time. His hands smooth down his shirt and he clears his throat. When Eddie chances a look behind him, Steve and Robin are giving him two, technically four, thumbs up as a means of encouragement.

With newfound resolve, Eddie approaches the counter once again. You’re a flurry of motion, caught up in the demands of your job. A bead of sweat threatens to drip from your brow as you ensure that the whipped cream on top of the ice-cold beverage is the perfect amount.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice cuts through the ambient noise, a little louder than necessary to ensure that you’ve heard him.

You peek up at him with a grin in acknowledgment. “Hi,” Though his presence is noted, your focus is unwavering, determined not to let any more interruptions affect your efficiency.

Eddie’s knuckles wrap against the counter, a drumming that underscores his everlasting nerves when it comes to you. “What are you doing tonight?”

Powdered cinnamon dusts the air as you gently tap the kitchen dredger over the tower of whipped cream. The finely ground burnt umber falls where it’s meant to, rather than onto your apron. “I don’t have any plans, why?” You hand the completed drink to the awaiting customer beside Eddie, giving them a polite smile that’s a testament to your professionalism.

The act of biting the inside of his cheek does little to help Eddie relax. “Would you maybe wanna grab a bite to eat?” he hesitates for a beat, the thudding of his heart is on the verge of drowning out his voice. “I’ll bet you’ll have worked up quite the appetite by the time you’re shift is done.”

You sigh softly, mulling over Eddie’s offer. “I don’t know…” You say contemplatively while flipping the switches on the machine, causing it to roar to life.

Eddie holds his breath, every passing second heightening his senses.

“Okay, I suppose I will be pretty hungry,” you concede, your eyes nearly forming tears of stress as you accept the ever-present line of customers. “Early dinner at Benny’s?” You suggest with an inviting tone.

“Just like old times,” Eddie smiles so wide that it feels like the corners of his lips might split and bleed. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.” He offers to pick you up, which he’d truly rather not. That would mean that he’d be taking you out in his uncle’s jalopy. In Eddie’s mind's eye, he would pick you up in a sports car and rev the engine to the point where you’re pressing your thighs together to stave off the vibrations coursing through you. A man can dream.

“No, I’ll meet you there,” you assert, your voice firm with certainty. The authenticity of your smile bridges the previously placed distance between you. “Thank you, though.”

His knuckles leave one last sequence of knocks on the marble surface, a rhythm of pride and assurance. “See you later, then,” Eddie confirms, his tone dancing on the edge of excitement.

You nod. “Later,”

Eddie turns away and finds his friends with expectant gazes plastered on their faces, awaiting the verdict of the exchange. His smile hasn’t fallen in the slightest, his dazzling white teeth and flushed cheeks don’t go unnoticed. Eddie’s enthusiasm is palpable, his words coming out in a hushed rush. “She said yes!” he exclaims, trying to shake the blood back into his fingers as the tingling sensation bites at him. “It’s a date,” He adds in triumph.

Sitting at the mini kitchen table in Wayne’s trailer, the rusty metal chair squeaks under his weight anytime he shifts. He can’t even sit still, despite there being plentiful hours between now and when he’ll see you again. Eddie finds himself flipping through the scrapbook you put so much time into making the summer before your senior year. That particular summer holds such significance to him, a time when the days were endless, and the bond between you felt unshakeable.

Each photograph feels as warm and breezy as the one before it. Sunbathing on the shore of Lover’s Lake, your toes dipping into the water as you prepared to leap off of the dock. The memory is vivid—your skin glistening and energy positively radiant with innocence and naivety. One of the snapshots of Eddie is far less flattering. He’s captured with sharp tan lines, the contrast in tones creating the illusion of him wearing a white shirt, despite being topless.

Eddie bites down on his lip as he studies the photograph of you riding your bike in cutoff shorts, your t-shirt having met an equal fate. The wind tangled through your hair in a way that he wished he could with his fingers.

The picture beside it features the two of you together. Obviously, Wayne had taken on the role of photographer. You’re both posed proudly beside a tower of playing cards that you spent 45 minutes building card by card, on the very table that Eddie is sitting at. Both of you held your breath and didn’t speak a word to avoid knocking it down. Taped across the same page are watermelon and grape-flavored blow pop wrappers, unredeemed arcade tickets, movie stubs, and receipts saved from snack runs made on days that you were craving specific treats.

With the turn of a page, Eddie melts a little as he comes across the photobooth strips. It was necessary for you to sit on his lap in order for both of you to fit within the frame. He was able to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close as if there was anywhere for you to go inside the cramped box. Your arms encircled his neck and rested on his shoulders while you made silly faces at the camera, and even better, at each other.

Eddie recoils at the picture of him with red-stained popsicle sticks protruding from his mouth, immaturely imitating a walrus, of all things. You laughed so hard that you insisted on taking a photo, and as much as dislikes the image itself, he’s still eating up how delighted you were by his antics.

The moments that weren’t captured on film come flooding back just as vividly as if they’re pasted to the paper before him. Inhaling helium from balloons and laughing hysterically at one another is a night that comes to mind. He knew he’d never get sick of making you laugh. And that time when playfully tossing popcorn into each other's mouths evolved from being a fun game to a skill. Last but not least, Eddie reminisces about sitting in his van together with the windows down, sharing cigarettes and music as the cool evening air enveloped you both. The quieter memories are just as deafening as the amusing ones.

His life had its fair share of upheaval and dysfunction that seemed to pull him in all directions. Amidst the chaos, one constant remained. You. Eddie didn’t need more than that, you already made life worth living.

But, as life often goes, the sweet moments can become bitter in the blink of an eye. 

It was the night of your graduation party, a celebration meant to be an intimate gathering among close friends—you, Eddie, Robin, and Steve. But when Eddie pulled up to your parent’s house, a scene was unfolding before him that he hadn’t anticipated. The yard was dotted with clusters of students while the front door was revolving with people drunkenly coming and going. Inside the belly of the beast was even more lively.

Eddie hesitantly navigated the throngs of teens in the hallway, people he was sure that you weren’t even on a first-name basis with. He knew your house like the back of his hand but it felt foreign due to the sheer number of bodies dancing, running, and tumbling over. 

He was going to finally tell you how he felt, a declaration that had been building within him for some time. Eddie understood that you were out of his league, the unspoken boundaries dictating that best friends aren’t supposed to fall in love, yet he found himself helplessly ensnared by his adoration for you. For so long, Eddie was afraid of pressing his luck, and even more so, was in a state of constant disbelief that he was lucky enough to call you the most important person in his life.

Graduation marks a turning point in a young person’s life, a juncture where change is inevitable. Eddie was ready for change and he wanted his dreams to bleed into reality. He yearned to hold you without any limitations, to kiss you like he needed to in order to survive. It was time for a new chapter and Eddie hoped that when he turned the page, he’d get the girl he wanted more than anything in the world.

You were in the kitchen. Typically, he gets a kick out of the way you act when you’re that buzzed. Your joyful disposition under the influence of celebration and booze led to you being the most laid-back version of yourself. However, he was facing an unanticipated predicament. Eddie was trying to have a serious conversation with you at a rowdy party. His hands were trembling, and luckily, his leather jacket concealed the fact that he’d soaked the pits of his t-shirt.

“There you are,” Eddie hummed and stepped closer to make sure that you could hear him over the music and chatter.

“Here I am!” you giggled, your cheeks flushed and energy unreserved. “Isn’t this wild?” You motioned to the piles of assorted cups and bags of snacks scattered haphazardly.

“Yeah,” Eddie responded, glancing over his shoulder as he was jolted by a stranger bumping into him. “What happened to watching movies and ordering pizza?”

The trace of disappointment in Eddie’s tone might have been discernable to a sober individual, but in your inebriated state, it slipped under your radar. Your smile remained and you swayed. The movement was more so a result of your jelly legs than unenthusiastic dancing. “I know, but my parents went all out and invited our entire class! I guess they figured that throwing a rager was a good way to congratulate me,” You chuckled and took another burning sip from your cup.

Eddie leaned in, his voice carrying a sense of urgency. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” he pleaded. “There’s something I need to tell you.” The weight of his unspoken feelings was on the verge of suffocating him and the heat of the room paled in comparison to the fire in his belly.

You tilted your head slightly, your eyes ever so bright. “What is it?”

Given that you hadn’t budged an inch, that meant that the conversation was gonna happen right where you stood. Eddie tried to breathe steadily, knowing that he’d rehearsed this and he knew what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, the words had startled to scramble in his head. “You, uh- you know that you’re my favorite person in the whole world, right?”

“Of course, you’re mine too,” you agreed as you pawed at his shoulder before leaning back against the counter to make up for your lessening ability to stand up straight.

“I couldn’t ask for a better best friend-” Unfortunately for him, the timing couldn’t have been worse. The song that had been playing ended abruptly. “But I wanna be more than that.”

Eddie’s heart sank as his words hung in the air. The confession that was meant for your ears only was now released into the open, leaving Eddie exposed. A mocking laughter filled the air that the music once inhabited; Jack Carver, the asshole who’s had it out for Eddie since the fifth grade, was locked and loaded.

Eddie’s blood ran cold at the sound as it collided with his ears. His fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, his body tensing as he struggled to prepare himself for what was about to happen. 

Jack Carver’s taunting cut like a sharp blade, drawing a wave of laughter from the surrounding students with it. “Did everybody hear that?” he shouted with derision, “The freak wants himself a little girlfriend.”

Defenseless, Eddie clenched his knuckles as the walls began to close in on him. He knew it wasn’t over yet.

“There’s a reason you’re still a virgin, and you’ll die one, too.” Jack sneered.

Prior to that evening, Eddie had steeled himself for the possibility of rejection from you. He‘d surrender to the emotional blow to keep you as his best friend. But he wasn’t armed for the level of humiliation that Jack’s provocation brought down on him. It was the wounds of his childhood, the physical and emotional scars from years of being picked on, that were torn open. Jack always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

The tears that blurred Eddie’s vision shielded him from your pitying and startled expression. It all felt like a cruel twist of fate, a reminder that he was meant to be the outsider, forever on the fringes without someone to hold him close at night. As the laughter continued to echo around him, Eddie fled before the atmosphere could swallow him whole. Without a second thought, he shoved his way through the crowd and bolted out of your front door.

The night air hit him like a wall, cooling the hot tears that streamed down his scorched cheeks. Eddie stumbled to his van and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned his forehead against the steering wheel and let out a shuddering breath, feeling like everything inside of him was coming apart at the seams. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut to clear his vision by forcing the pooled tears to flow and he raised his head back up. He saw you stepping off of your front porch, a concerned look branded on your features while you called out to him, searching.

At that moment, he decided that he was gonna show every single person who thought so little of him that he could be somebody. Eddie was going to outdo all of them and kick the expectation that he was going to end up in prison like his father, that he was going to be dealing drugs for the rest of his life, and that he’d always be trailer trash.

If Eddie could go back in time, things would have gone differently. But after chasing the California sunrise, he’d mastered the world of glamorous parties, adoring fans, and beautiful women. They threw themselves at him. He didn’t have to worry about rejection because he could have his pick, he had whatever flavor he wanted for the night. But no one satiated the craving he continued to have for you. No one laughed the way you did, no one understood him the way you always had.

You’d never have another moment together, he accepted that. And it didn’t matter anymore because he became the man. He didn’t have time to sit around and sulk about a small-town girl who wouldn’t give him the time of day. But despite putting his feelings in the rearview mirror, he daydreamed nonetheless. Eddie wondered what it would be like to show you the new and improved version of himself. He hoped that you’d be impressed. More importantly, did you listen to his music? Or read about his scandalous escapades in the gossip magazines that wove lies into the truth?

Even so, that night set him straight. It wasn’t going to happen for you and him. His only star had fallen, so he put all of his time and energy into making a name for himself. The songs on his albums are about living life in the fast lane and the thrill of the night. They’re about trashing hotel rooms and experiencing things he never dreamed he would because that’s what sells records.

But at home in his lyric notepad lays the songs of unpursued love, melodies about chances taken and lost. There’s one ballad in particular, its verses tell the story of him introducing you to his newfound confidence, something that you never knew him to have. It speaks of how he’s seen the world twice over, and yet, his favorite place to be is tucked away in the memories where things hadn’t changed yet.

Those heartfelt lyrics remain buried, never to be shared with the world. They’re a tribute to you, the unsung song in his life.

Eddie’s experience when it comes to the attention of women should, theoretically, render him immune to being nervous. Yet, he finds himself impossibly so. The source of his unease? You. This isn’t just anyone, you’re not just some chick. The late afternoon swings around and Eddie’s nerves are in full swing. He’s feeling just as anxious as he did the night of that party because second chances are rare for him. Eddie is acutely aware that this is very likely to be his last shot with you. This isn’t just any date—it’s your first date. The significance isn’t lost on him, and he’s determined to make it count.

Standing in front of Wayne’s bathroom mirror, Eddie attempts to wield the cheap razor to trim the edges of his beard. His curls, normally styled to perfection, look deflated and lackluster without his fancy shampoo and hair products to nourish them. The trailer park’s hard water isn’t doing his hair any favors when it comes to frizz either. As Eddie rinses away his beard trimmings from the basin, he exhales dramatically, watching his self-esteem swirling down the drain. He tries to remind himself of his good looks by reciting a silent pep talk. The thought of disappointing you, or not meeting your expectations, is something he can’t bear.

Eddie parks Wayne’s car outside of Benny’s Burgers and takes a moment to double-check his appearance in the visor mirror. He wants to make certain that he looks as decent as he can. This is the chance he’s been waiting for, this is for all the marbles. Unlike his usual casual encounters, where names and personalities go unlearned, this is different. Eddie has to earn your affection back.

He peers down at his fingernails, thankful that they’re still in good shape from his last manicure. Eddie mutters to himself, trying to get a feel for an appropriate greeting. “Hi, you look… pretty,” Lame. Frustrated, he twists the skull ring on his finger, adjusting it from its sideways position to face the right way up. “It’s so nice out tonight, but you look even nicer.” Eddie groans, banging his head back against the headrest. “Jesus Christ, Munson. Get your fucking shit together.”

With a thick swallow, Eddie steps out of the car and makes his way across the parking lot that crunches beneath his sneakers. As he enters the restaurant, he’s happy to see that this place hasn’t changed one bit. Eddie debates waiting by the door for you or to sit down for the time being. Anxiety wins, and he chooses the latter. As he strides across the room, he tries to keep his easily recognizable face relatively hidden. Eddie slides into the booth that the two of you always sat in. You spent innumerable Saturday nights sitting here, laughing and teasing, talking shit and venting about how high school felt so life or death at the time.

A soft chuckle slips out as he traces the initials that he carved into the table all those years ago. He grins, recalling how much you scolded him while he chipped EM into the wood with his pocket knife. Eddie absentmindedly fiddles with the lid on the ketchup bottle from the condiment caddy, lost in his own thoughts, until the restaurant’s door opens. His heart thumps madly as he watches you stroll in and scan the room until your gaze lands on him. Beyond his control, Eddie’s eyes are gleaming, overwhelmed with the privilege of being in the same room as you once more.

He stands from the booth as you approach, his legs acting with a mind of their own. Once you reach him, he’s not exactly sure what to do with his hands. He decides against offering a hug since you don’t initiate one. Eddie returns to his seat as you settle into the one opposite of him.

“Hey,” you greet him warmly, placing your purse beside you on the seat.

“Hi, there,” he replies, the red of his cheeks deepening as his hands go right back to fidgeting. Eddie clears his throat. “How was the rest of your day?”

“It was okay, nothing special,” you reply vaguely, your voice dripping with fatigue.

Eddie takes note of and appreciates the slightest bit of makeup you’ve applied since he saw you this morning, simply because it accentuates your natural beauty. It’s a small detail, but it doesn’t go unnoticed, and it warms his heart to think that you might have put some effort into your appearance to meet up with him. Or maybe he’s getting ahead of himself and you just don’t like wearing makeup at work. Regardless, just as a complement is about to roll off of his tongue, the table is approached by an old woman.

“My goodness, I remember you too!” She beams, clutching her miniature notepad tightly. “You’re all grown up now.”

You nod respectfully, clearly remembering her. Eddie, on the other hand, does not recognize her as quickly. It’s like he’s buffering as he thinks, and then his eyes widen, suddenly remembering that the woman is the waitress who always served the two of you every weekend. Holy shit, he thought she looked old back then but now she looks ancient. “It’s nice to see you,” He performs, trying his best to be a gentleman and show you that he’s good-natured.

“I’ll be right back, I know just what to get you,” She says sing-songy manner and bounces away into the back kitchen. Even after all this time, she still knows your orders by heart.

Despite the breath that you release, the hurt isn’t evident on your face. “Why’d you disappear on me that night?”

Your straightforwardness catches Eddie off guard, and he struggles to find the right words to respond. “Doesn’t matter why,” he begins, trying to deflect from the topic. He’d much rather you ask him if he has any pets or if he’s read any good books lately. “That was ages ago, what matters is that I’m not a pathetic loser anymore.”

“You were never a loser, Eddie.” You say looking into his eyes, reminding every fiber of his being that you always liked him for who he was. But just as quickly, your gaze drops. You always hated when he talked about himself that way because you thought he was a total catch.

Eddie’s gaze lingers on you, studying the shift. Slowly, the realization dawns on him that your hurt runs deep, possibly deeper than his own. Coming to terms with his self-centered perspective makes his chest ache. He was so consumed by his own insecurities that he never spared a thought for how his sudden departure wounded you.

You change gears with an almost perfected ease, smoothly transitioning from the heaviness of the subject. “So, Mr. Super Star, what’s it like being you?”

A chill is sent up his spine, uneasiness caused by how swiftly you just rebuilt your walls before his eyes. He bites anyway, hoping that your interest in his stories is genuine. “From the outside, it looks like fun but it’s nothing short of chaos. When you’ve got a show every other night, and a band wants you on their new album, and then someone’s throwing a massive party...” Eddie trails off, afraid that his rambling is coming off as braggery. “Anyway, enough about all that. How ‘bout you? How’d you end up working at Morningside?”

There’s a flicker of joy on your face that shows your appreciation for his desire to hear you talk about yourself. “I needed something part-time, I’m actually studying to be a-”

EEK! You both startle at the ear-shattering squeals of three middle school-aged school girls. They’re gathered around Eddie, borderline frothing at the mouth to be looking at and breathing the same air as him. They’re all talking a mile a minute over one another, asking for autographs, wanting hugs, and gushing about his music.

Eddie looks at you and he can’t quite gauge your reaction, your expression is practically unreadable. “One second, I’m sorry,” he sincerely apologizes, scooting out of the booth to greet the rabid girls. He figures that if he handles this interaction skillfully, they’ll likely leave both of you alone afterward.

As you watch him engage, you’re beyond disappointed. It seems like he’s more interested in the attention and adoration of his fans than he is in spending time with you. He should’ve just told them to go away. Now you’re certain of where his priorities lie and you should’ve known from the moment you saw his face this morning. He isn’t here to mend things, Eddie has less than pure intentions and you’re not going to wait to find out what they are.

While Eddie is busy giving the girls his full attention with his back turned to you, you seize the moment to slip out of the booth and quietly exit the restaurant. One of the girls is clinging onto him after a hug and he has to pry her off of himself. In doing so, he sees your hurried movement out of the corner of his eye. He half-heartedly thanks his fans and rushes after you, his mouth going dry as reality hits him like a freight train; he’s getting a taste of his own medicine.

“Wait up,” Eddie calls out to you, his chest heaving.

You stop in your tracks and turn to him with a hardened look on your face. “Why did you come here? Was it so you could show off how untouchable you are now?”

Eddie’s mouth falls open. “No,” he steps forward but you inch away. “Of course not.”

“Then what? Because I don’t even know why I agreed to come here. You’ve obviously outgrown Hawkins and everyone in it. I wasn’t good enough for you to stick around for, much less stay in touch with.”

Eddie’s heart breaks in two at the sunset reflecting in the glossy pools that have formed along your lower lash line. “You were always enough for me,” he says weakly.

You roll your eyes and your car keys jingle in your hand as you cross your arms over your chest. “Do you really expect me to believe that when it’s been nothing but radio silence for six years?”

“Yeah, kinda,” he snaps, suddenly feeling defensive. Memories of the night he left come flooding back and he’s transported to that place of feeling unworthy and inadequate. His chest puffs up and his shoulders tense. “At least I made something of myself. Can’t you at least be a little bit happy for me?

He immediately realizes that was a low blow, evident in the way the tears start pouring from your eyes. The hurt on your face cuts a deep pang in Eddie’s chest for his thoughtless comment. You’ve always been there for him, you were always in his corner for as long as you’d known each other.

You shrink into yourself, avoiding his intense stare as you crumble. “I am happy for you. It just sucks that I had to be forgotten about for you to get there. But I understand, I really do. You had to ditch this town to chase after what you wanted for your life, and that included leaving me behind too.” You wipe your nose with the back of your hand and sniffle.

Eddie’s tense posture relaxes and his expression turns sorrowful as he watches you fall apart from his wrongdoings. It hurts to watch you run a hand through your hair and wipe the mascara from below your eyes in an attempt to compose yourself. The sound of your fumbling car keys is like a thundering countdown in his ears, urging him that his time is running out before he’s lost you entirely. Eddie’s mind races as he fights the impulse to do something, anything, to make amends. “Don’t go,” he begs. “I’m sorry.”

You respond with your eyes fixed on inserting your key into the lock of the car door, your trembling hands making it difficult to do so. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yes I do,” he insists, getting as physically close as possible without crossing any boundaries.

The piercing glare that was previously on his face has found its way onto yours. “I disagree. You got everything you could’ve ever wanted.”

When your eyes meet, he can feel it in his toes. “I didn’t, though.” Eddie notices the inflamed veins in your eyes, hating himself for being the reason you’re crying. It’s an odd feeling, but a small, sad smile tugs at his lips.

The scoff from you hits like a slap to his cheek. “Let’s see,” you hold out your hand and begin counting on your fingers. “Expensive clothes, a massive house, I’m sure you have multiple cars. You probably have a personal chef-” All true. “For fuck’s sake, you have a private jet. What more could you possibly want?”

Eddie is terrified of making a move that might push you further away, yet he musters the courage to try to ground you with his touch. His fingers gently wrap around your wrist and both of you watch as he brushes his thumb over your veins. “I never got to have you,” Eddie’s voice cracks ever so slightly as he lays all of his cards on the table. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

A tear dribbles off of your cheek and splashes onto the pavement as your hands begin to interact with his.

You contemplate pulling your hand away, the heartache inching back into the forefront of your mind. “If you wanted me you would’ve been here all along.”

Eddie holds his breath as your fingers intertwine and your palms press together. “I’m here now, and I want you just as badly as I did back then.” His lips press a soft kiss to the tops of your knuckles and his teary eyes meet yours. “I was just a stupid kid who turned heel and ran when things didn’t go the way I wanted them to.”

“Yeah, you were,” you agree with a bite of your lip. “You didn’t even give me the chance to tell you that I felt the same way.”

Eddie grins, giving your hand a squeeze and another kiss. “Is there any chance that you still feel that way? Because I’m still stupidly in love with you.”

“I do,” you breathe with relief, swallowing the pressure in your throat. “I’m in love with you too.”

“Wanna be stupid together?” Eddie tilts his head at you, continuing to hold your hand to his plush lips.

“Yeah,” you giggle wetly, “I’d really like that.”

Reblogs are greatly encouraged and appreciated! ♡

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[findafight]

We know and love metal god Eddie and Just Some Guy Steve but please hear me out. That dynamic of looks but with the additive of Steve also being a famous musician. He's in a band with Argyle, Jonathan, and Robin, and he's on keyboard wearing sunglasses (photosensitive Steve...) Which somehow became kinda iconic? He has a bunch of different ones and he's no Elton John but they're not boring. So his face is often obscured and combined with the fact he's the keyboardist, he's not entirely recognizable.

So when people inevitably find out Eddie is dating this guy who looks like he's from a Gap catalogue, no one puts two and two together that he is another, let alone famous in his own right, musician. Eddie mentions his Steve plays piano (royal conservatory grade ten with honours!), And that he's from the same Indiana town as him, but the fanbase crossover isn't high so they don't put together that Steve the Keyboardist from Hawkins in as yet unnamed stobjargyle band and Eddie Munson's Steve from Hawkins are one and the same.

Everybody thinks this is hilarious as Eddie's fans like to playfully drag Steve for being Just Some Dude, without knowing they are dragging the guy who is booked to play the same venue the next night. Robin thinks it's funny because both bands have mentioned knowing each other in interviews (because they're all from Hawkins! Yes except you Argyle we know you're from Cali we KNOW) and Steve dresses comfy like that all the time? How could they not have figured it out? Hilarious.

Steve is slowly dreading the day they realize who he is and he becomes more recognizable as Eddie Munson's Partner than his own musician and won't be able to go to the grocery store in peace anymore.

[lionydoorin]

random rockstar au hcs because i can 🫶

robin has the same routine before every concert; she always talks to steve, then eddie (her producer!), then dustin (her manager!), then isolates herself for a few minutes to warm up, listen to fleetwood mac and think. she also cracks her knuckles and taps it on the same beat as the intro before going on stage, and once she's on stage, she has to wrap her left hand around the microphone cable and jump to the beat of sweet tooth (her opening song) as it begins

kissing nancy's entire face in a sequence also becomes a part of her pre-concert routine; she kisses her forehead first, then her right cheek, her nose, her left cheek, chin and then lips. nancy always waits for her outside her dressing room to give her good luck smooches

as i said before, nancy fell first, but robin fell harder

nancy is a baby lesbian that just came to terms w her sexuality after years of comphet but she always confides on her ex-boyfriend/coworker jonathan cause he's rly good at giving advices okay

steve and robin share the same apartment in nyc since they've moved there and they have no plans in moving! its cheap but cozy and actually private cause no one expects to find two famous singers living there

^ they started off posting covers and original songs together on soundcloud so people think they're dating since then or something cause well no one believes in a male x female friendship apparently

robin listens to a lot of hozier, bon iver, mumford & sons. nancy is 100% a mitski/phoebe bridgers lesbian. they have a collaborative playlist on spotify to send their favourite songs to each other

they also freak out together a lot talking about taylor swift and scream the lyrics to all too well in the car whenever they go out

(once robin meets taylor swift she's like hey my girlfriend and i are really into your stuff wait hold on let me call her- and when she facetimes nancy and her girlfriend sees who's with her she drops her phone and almost passes out)

"nancy?! honey are you okay?!!!!" (nancy's getting up, blushing, wide-eyed and with her hair all over the place) "sure thing babe, i'm doing great, hello miss swift sorry i didn't see you there-"

[thedyingwriter]

ok so hear me out. I have this feeling that as time passes steve's fashion sense evolves and he starts experimenting with colors and fabrics. around the present time or maybe let's say in the 2010-2020 decade when he's older and gay marriage is legal and he's finally able to openly express his sexuality and enjoy dates with eddie he dresses more boldly and tries to express his sexuality through his clothing. for some reason I don't know why i can imagine him having some kind of a similar style to present day harry styles. lots of pinks and pastels and rainbows, extra baggy jeans, cardigans, pearl necklace (i can really see him with pearls as a signature look) or any kind of accessories, frills and lace.

and since we all love the rockstar!eddie x teacher!steve trope so much it would be really funny to imagine the internet going crazy after finding out their favorite metal head who literally can't wear anything except black is married to a middle school teacher who dresses like harry styles.

[starkidmunson]

glitter & crimson

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?” 

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything? 

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks. 

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him. 

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game. 

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face. 

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes. 

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks. 

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile. 

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh. 

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow. 

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him. 

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin. 

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs. 

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance. 

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him. 

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one. 

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.” 

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip. 

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

[riality-check]

Eddie needs this to go perfectly.

He’s… okay, saying he’s not an anxious person would be a lie. Eddie is very acquainted with the fight or flight instinct, with the latter of those two options being far more familiar. He’s vaguely obsessive and twitchy and, frankly, puts way too much thought and time into planning one-shots, nevermind regular campaign sessions.

Majority of the time, he likes to have control of a situation. There are reasons for that, plenty of which he knows, some of which he’s gone to therapy for, and more that are on the bedroom and currently irrelevant side of things.

The relevant side of things is the guy in front of him who doesn’t have any sort of ear protection on.

Eddie should mind his business. He really should. Corroded Coffin isn’t even headlining. They’re the openers for the tour of a much bigger band that noticed them and asked if they wanted to tour with them and Archie fangirled so hard he passed out. It was a whole thing.

Still, it’s their first real tour, and Eddie is a control freak, and he needs it to be perfect, which means no one gets hurt. This random guy - probably a roadie of some sort from how he’s plugging cables into something Eddie doesn’t know the name of - not having any sort of ear protection counts as someone maybe getting hurt.

Eddie doesn’t even know him, but he can’t have that happen.

Hell, this guy’s friend has her earplugs looped around her neck on a string like Eddie does. But Hottie - yeah, he’s hot and Eddie’s queer with a healthy sex drive, get over it - has none in sight.

That’s a problem. Eddie can’t have problems, not tonight, not before the first show.

“Hey!” he calls, walking over to Hottie and his friend, who are setting up equipment away from the stage. “You gotta have something for your ears, dude!”

Hottie and his friend exchange a look that Eddie can’t make heads or tails of.

“Thanks man,” Hottie says, and that nickname applies to his voice, too. “But I’m good.”

Eddie frowns. “You need to protect your hearing.”

“Trust me,” Hottie says. “I’ve worked a lot of gigs. Never wore anything then, won’t wear anything now, probably won’t wear anything at the next one.”

Okay. It’s fine. Eddie should walk away now. He’s totally capable of walking away. It is, quite obviously, the better alternative to this circular conversation.

But Hottie is gonna hurt himself this way. Potentially really badly if it’s not a one time thing. This is a metal show, for G-d’s sake. He’ll do some serious damage over time.

Eddie needs this to go perfectly, and for things to go perfectly, he can’t be responsible for that.

“I don’t think you get it,” he says. “You’re gonna destroy your ears that way, especially if you do this for a long time. This show is gonna be really intense, hell, the whole tour is! You can get cheap shit at the hardware store, it’s better than nothing-”

At the beginning of his rant, lecture, whatever, Hottie stares right at him. He has a really intense stare. Pretty brown eyes set in a prettier face with even prettier hair on top of his head. Eddie gets distracted by all that pretty and by trying to make his point.

And he doesn’t notice until halfway through that Hottie isn’t looking at him anymore. He’s looking at his friend.

Eddie looks at her, too. Looks at her confused and focused expression. Looks at her hands moving rapidly.

Oh. G-d.

Hottie’s deaf, isn’t he?

“Trying my best but I’m not fluent, Steve,” she says. Her hands pause, and she looks down at them, confused.

Hottie - Steve - shrugs, and his hands move as he talks. “I’m not either. You were doing pretty good, though. I think. Or our mistakes just line up that well.”

“What’s the sign for reverb? It’s the last word he said.”

“No clue. You can just fingerspell it.”

“I can’t remember R.”

“How do you forget R? It’s in your name, Robin!”

The friend - Robin - throws her hands up. “You know I get it mixed up with X!”

Eddie wants to die. This is it. He’s going to melt into a puddle due to sheer embarrassment, fifteen minutes before the doors open to let in the biggest crowd Corroded Coffin has ever played for.

What a shitty way to go.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. “I didn’t-”

Steve cuts him off. “Normally, I can lip read enough to get the gist. But you speak too fast and trip over your words.”

Ouch. Okay.

“I do lights,” he continues. “Robin does sound. We know what we’re doing, and we don’t need you to tell us how to do our jobs, even if you mean well.”

Seriously?

Eddie should have minded his business. He knows that. But G-ddamn, that’s blunt.

He’s saved, thankfully, from digging himself into a bigger hole.

“Eddie!” Jeff hollers from the stage. “Get your ass over here!”

He turns to walk away, then turns back to Steve and Robin. “Sorry,” he says again.

He turns back around before he can see their reactions and runs back toward the stage. Intimately familiar with flight, and all that.

Shit. First night of tour, and he’s already made an enemy of the light and sound people.

And the light guy is hot.

Really hot.

And he hates Eddie.

This is gonna be a long few weeks.

Now with a continuation and a part 3!

ao3

[chaosgremlinmunson]

Rocker Stevie

Might be part one.

Diane: So let's set the scene, it's 1988, you're newly 21. You are top of the charts bubblegum pop princess Stevie Hendrix. You're married to top selling actor Tommy Hagan known for his action films and beach body. You just won two Grammys that year, and then, what happened?

Stevie: So, like you said. I was newly 21, I married my highschool sweetheart who'd reached stardom right alongside me as an actor instead of in music, which, honestly Diane, thank God for that. The man has no idea how to hold a tune, he'd likely make a dying cat sound like a siren. Laugh No, really! It's that bad! Anyway, I was fresh off my latest tour for Rainbows and Leather and came home to see my darling husband. I was so excited I'd been missing him, you know. Well, I walked into the house and what did I find? My husband, in bed butt naked with my Best friend and his personal assistant at my behest, Carol Perkins. To tell you the fallout from that was anything less than apocalyptic would be selling it short.

Diane: So after the absolutely dramatic divorce, you decided to change genres? Why Rock?

Stevie: Rock spoke to my soul, I wrote ‘I wanna ghost myself’ one night drunk on apple spritzers with my sister Robin, and her best friend Eddie. They'd been in my corner from the start, but Eddie and I always nipped at each other about our music tastes, then that night he picked up his guitar and started playing and ‘I wanna ghost myself' just flowed out. I was laid out on the floor by the ending between lighter and tears, and just felt so free. So like myself. And that was it, Stevie hung up her rainbows and sunshine and embraced her chaos and revenge.

Diane: So where did the lyrics 'think I'll take my heart and throw it off a cliff, yeah I have a feeling that it won't be missed” come from?

Stevie: You have to understand, I was devastated by what Tommy did. I had only ever been with him to that point in my life, he'd made me believe he was the only one for me. That without him my life would feel meaningless because up to that point every moment together he showered me in affection and praise. He was the ideal husband on the surface, and then I found out he'd been having an affair with Carol for literal years. Everyone knew except for me, and I was crushed. ‘Think I'll take my heart and throw it off a cliff’ was me almost literally saying my heart is broken and I don't want to feel anymore. I became wild and lost myself to the music. Eddie wrapped me in leather and lace and asked me to be the front woman for his band. I was shocked, because honestly was I going to make it delving into a whole new genre? I'd already come to the end of my contract with Upside Down records, so I wasn't concerned about what my team thought. However, my fan base? Would they still love me the same, would I make it? I was scared, and then we had our first show. It was small, and it was a test for me to see if I could do this. The world caught fire for me that night, and I never looked back.

Diane: So let's fast forward, finally Devil's Prey became a household name, and Stevie Hendrix was a sensation. What happened the night of the music awards, in your own words.

Stevie: So, for years I'd gone by Stevie Hendrix so no one would know who I was. It was mid set for ‘Bulletproof’ and as I turned the lights cut out and a picture lit up the screen. It was a photo of me on my wedding day, my eyes crossed out and ‘Stefania Harrington the Whore’ written across my body as I stood between Tommy, his old friend Billy, and Jason Carver. I screamed, and looked back at the audience just as Eddie tackled me to the ground and a shot whipped past my head.

Diane: So Eddie Munson saved you that day?

Stevie: Yes, he did. He held me while I sobbed in the green room. I never knew someone could be so hateful just because my songs brought what they'd done to light, but there I was running for my life while the security detail searched for the gunman. Eddie was furious, he held onto me and told me we were going to my place with his security, to pack up my things and come to his. See, Eddie lived in a damn near impenetrable home, there was no way anyone could get to me there. Of course I wanted to fight him on it, but I'm just a girl at the end of the day, and Eddie Munson has an energy you just don't fight when it's directed at you.

Diane: So you moved in that night?

Stevie: Yes. Eddie was my shadow for days, I barely could use the restroom without him following me around. It was aggravating at times, but I saw how scared he was when he wasn't in the spot he could see me.

Diane: He was traumatized.

Stevie: He was traumatized and he was ready to follow me to hell if he needed just to make sure I was safe. I never knew what love was until I was met with the force of Eddie Munson’s protection. He woke my dead heart up again, and I was doomed from the start.

Diane: So eventually the agents you had investigating the shooting found out who shot that gun, and who hired him.

Stevie: I need a minute before we talk about this. Let me just grab a water and ask Eddie to come sit with me.

Diane: Take your time.

Stevie and Eddie walk back in, they're holding hands and Eddie is murmuring to Stevie who's looking like she may just pass out from nerves. She squeezes Eddie's hand and takes a seat, Eddie sits beside her his fingers laced with hers.

Stevie: Okay, I'm ready. Breathes in deeply So Jim Hopper was the head agent on the investigative team. He had become something like a father figure to Robin and I over the years after my parents’ accident. When Jim came into Eddie's house his face was drawn, and I knew then that the people who had attacked me knew me. He sat me down and told me as gently as possible that Tommy had asked Billy to do the job. He was furious at my songs, and apparently the fan base put two and two together and his career began to tank. People were boycotting his movies. I didn't know, I swear, I just wanted my freedom and an outlet for all my pain. I deserve to have that without someone threatening me, you know? Tommy had hired Jason who was in tech support to upload the photo in the middle of our set. It was this whole plot. Make me pay in the most public way possible.

Eddie: I wanted to rip them apart. Stevie was distraught, she is such a good person. And if I could take her pain away I would, happily.

Stevie: I know you would, but you going to prison wouldn't have helped me. I need you here Eddie.

Eddie: I'm not leaving, not ever.

Stevie: So the trial came and went. They'd found loads of evidence in Tommy's apartment, through the baking records, phone records. I mean they pretty much wrote out in neon lights that they planned to kill me. Laughs incredulously All because Tommy couldn't handle the consequences of being a shitty husband?

Eddie: He never deserved you, Stevie.

Stevie: blushes and ducks her head Oh hush you big sap.

Diane: So the bad guys are caught, you're safe now, what does the future hold for Stevie Hendrix?

Stevie: More Rock and Roll obviously, but therapy to deal with the trauma. Mandatory family nights. Just things to help me feel back to myself.

Eddie: Hopefully a wedding soon, too. That is if you say yes. Eddie Munson sank to one knee reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring. Stevie stared at him, her eyes glassy before grabbing him by his curls and kissing him, she giggled a yes, and he slipped the ring on her finger. She said yes!

Stevie: I said yes. I love you Eddie Munson.

Diane: I'm so happy for you both!

Eddie: I love you Stevie Hendrix, I can't wait to be Mr. Hendrix!

Diane: Well, It was lovely sitting with you for this interview. Thank you for agreeing to be on my show, and I can't wait to see the wedding photos one day.

Stevie: See the photos? Diane, you're invited to the wedding!

Diane: Oh wow! I'd be honored.

Stevie and Eddie stood and walked off the stage where Robin stood, her face lit in a blinding grin, she embraced her sister letting out a laugh and they both turned to wave to Diane who smiled and waved back. The show was over, but Stevie’s life was only just beginning.