frat steve has taken steddie twitter by storm so have this
eddie’s dragging his feet in his boots, humming under his breath while he unsuccessfully flicks the lighter under his cigarette.
every time he finds himself walking down fraternity row he also finds himself wondering how he got here.
not physically- he took a left on 4th and a right on morningside, he knows that.
but in a larger sense.
he’s a junior well on his way to a media and entertainment arts degree who, as a freshman and sophomore spent most of his friday nights at local dives either playing with his band or drinking and shooting the shit with the divorced dads at the pool table.
so when he wonders how he got here, he means how he’s found himself on the way to his third house party this month.
he finally gets his cigarette lit and he stops on the sidewalk to get in a few drags before he heads in. mentally prepares himself for the insufferable music he’ll have to endure for thirty minutes or so before he tunes it out.
he mock-bows at the group of girls that wanders past, giggles and waves sent his way making him laugh to himself.
he drops the butt and stubs it beneath the toe of his boot and takes a breath.
heads toward the house door.
when he gets there he’s met with two guys, freshman surely. letters emblazoned across their cutoff muscle tees and hats turned backwards and perched, very stupidly if eddie shares his piece, atop their heads.
they stop him with a hand up and friendly smiles and mock bravado “three actives,” bro number one states.
eddie barely holds back an incredulous laugh.
“you cannot be serious.”
the boys eye each other, confused and getting frustrated, eddie can tell.
the first bows up a bit.
“dead serious, bro. name three actives.”
and look, eddie may be a showman at the best of times but he really doesn’t want to pull his trump card here. not now.
that would just add insult to injury.
he’s wracking his brain for a way to let them down gently, to get them to step aside and let him through when there’s a loud commotion behind them and then steve is shouldering his way past and onto the front steps.
“eddie!!” he cheers and swings his strong arms up and around his neck. he, unlike tweedle dee and tweedle dum, is just wearing a white t-shirt and his hair, his beautiful, beautiful hair is left untarnished by the blasphemy that is the frat boy snapback.
he wraps an arm low around his waist and presses a kiss to his temple.
“hey, baby,” he smiles, watching the dropped jaws and disbelieving eyes over steve’s shoulder.
steve pulls back and shoves his chest back and he stumbles, laughing.
“dude you were supposed to be here ages ago!”
eddie tugs him back close by his wrists and puts on his best puppy eyes.
“sorry, sweetheart, got caught up at rehearsals. but i’m all yours now.”
steve grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together. spins around and point between eddie and the pledge-bouncers.
“guys, this is eddie! eddie this is jeremy and josh.”
eddie waves, small and a bit sarcastic but steve doesn’t pick up on that. just tugs him past and takes off to find eddie a drink.
eddie gets clapped on the shoulder and high-fived by a couple of steve’s friends as they pass and he yells across the room to eric to save him a seat.
he turns back to the door and still sees bewildered looks, slightly afraid.
he gets it, he does.
in a larger sense at least.
if he were these boys and had just tried to deny entry to the president’s boyfriend he might be a little afraid too.
he swings an arm around each of their shoulders and pulls them close.
“relax, gentlemen. your secret is safe with me.”
they stutter and go to argue but steve is back with two red plastic cups and a bright smile.
“c’mon ed, luke wants to hear about your show since he missed it last week.”
eddie pats both boys on their backs before he takes the drink from steve’s hand and tucks the other in steve’s back pocket.
“later guys. catch up next time, yeah?”
their stunned nods and quiet agreements follow as eddie and steve walk away.
they’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.
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Yoü & I [2.0]
Masterlist
A/N: I don't wanna go back to school 😒
Warnings: alcohol consumption, vomiting, tattoos if that's a trigger?
--
Six hours earlier, Luke, Michael, and Ashton were engrossed in a cut-throat game of Grand Theft Auto. Police sirens whirred and the clanging and battering of car collisions echoed every few seconds. So far Luke was winning, much to the surprise and resentment of his bandmates.
"I swear to God, you're cheating," Ashton huffed as his player was eviscerated in another violent crash.
"Don't give him too much credit. He's just having a lucky day," Michael told him.
"Don't get pissed with me just 'cause the two of aren't cutting it," Luke grinned.
A few feet over in the kitchenette was Calum, sifting through the cupboards of non-perishables for the oatmeal box. It had to be around somewhere, knowing the guys they put it in the wrong cabinet. At least they'd stopped putting the empty containers and boxes back in the cupboards.
"Have you guys seen the oatmeal?" he called to them.
"Check the cupboard," Ashton replied, not really paying attention.
Calum glowered at his mates, "Which one?" he asked.
"Uh -- t-try the one on the left," Michael replied cluelessly.
Calum gave up, figuring their game was more important and took to his search on his own. Rummaging through the cupboards, he was quite surprised when he felt something smack over his forehead. Clattering on the countertop were maybe ten or so packets of blue raspberry jello.
"Why do we have all this jello?" he asked. But when he turned around, the guys were still engrossed in their game. Calum finally rolled his eyes and whisked one of the packets like a frisbee. It bounced off of Michael's snapback.
"Hey!" the sudden impact jolted him and he lost control of his car, his player crashed into a roaring tanker, "What the fuck?"
"Why do we have a shit ton of jello powder?" Calum asked again.
Ashton finally paused the game and went to collect the packets, "They're mine," he said simply.
Luke raised his eyebrows, "Since when do you eat jello?" he asked.
"I don't," Ashton shook his head, "They're for a prank I've been planning,"
"For the girls?" Calum asked, to which the older boy nodded, "That toilet thing was months ago. Why you doing it now?"
"Because a good prankster needs time to come up with an elaborate prank -- besides, it's been long enough they won't see it coming," Ashton said.
"Fair argument," Luke nodded, "What're you gonna' do with it?"
Ashton glanced down at the packets, "... I haven't figured that out yet,"
"Oh!" Michael suddenly exclaimed, "We could encase their instruments in the stuff!"
Calum shook his head, "You want to be responsible for the financial damages, be my guest, mate,"
"Not to mention Maria will beat you with your own game controller," Luke said.
With a bit more light conversing and then some more video game distractions, by the time the guys went for their afternoon rest, Ashton tripped over the winning idea. Literally, he tripped over the plug-in chord for the mini fridge in his room.
Fast forward six and a half hours later and the girls were busily scooping out and salvaging their drinks from the mess of blue gelatine -- bent in on executing their revenge. Luckily, the door to the boys hadn't touch the fridge in the craft room and the girls cooked up a quick way to revenge.
Cleaned up and just ready to take to the stage, the girls marched through the halls with their instruments at the ready. Maria was triumphantly drinking the can of beer she's rescued from its jello prison, though the aluminum still held overly sweetened hints of blue raspberry flavouring. Waiting at the stage door were the boys, idling about and trying to come off as innocent.
"Wondering what was taking you lot so long," Calum grinned.
Maria smirked up at him, "Well, we'd be on time but we got a little caught up in cleaning duty,"
Chloe scoffed, "Y'all think you're so damn clever. I mean -- jello? First of all: what a waste of a perfectly good non-perishable food product, second of all: how dare you!"
"How dare you turn a toilet bowl into a carnival game," Ashton replied, "Messing with a man's pride, that is!"
Before the girls could reply, the stage manager called out to them, none too patient for this back and forth, "Capers! You're on two minutes!"
"This isn't over," Kimberly warned them, "Watch your backs on stage tonight for any flying projectiles,"
"Like what, toilet paper?" Luke scoffed.
"How about pudding bombs?" Charlotte suggested, "Since we've taken to the art of wasting food,"
"I feel bad for Ash, mostly. He'd be right in the line of fire," Maria shrugged.
"Capers! Let's go!" the stage manager called again.
Ashton had on a shit-eating grin, "Have a good show, Capers,"
The girls glanced at each other, "Oh, we will," in sync, they raised their arms and slapped down a warm, wobbly ball of jello onto each boys' perfectly cleaned shirt. Suffice to say, they were none too impressed.
"Oh, come on!" Michael whined, "I just washed this!"
Kimberly shook her head, "Tut, tut, boys. That's gross,"
"Yeah, you better go change," Maria grinned, wiping her own sticky hand on her black pant leg. With that, the girls started filing out to the stage.
"Oi!" Calum called, "This isn't over!"
"Yeah!" Luke cried, "You may have won the battle, but you ain't won the war!"
Charlotte turned and walked backwards, smiling at the tall, blonde lad with defiance and pride flush in her face, "Yet," she whispered coyly. She flashed the boys and wink before following her girls out.
Luke couldn't help the lingering smile in his face as he returned to the dressing room with the boys, they were all grumbling about having to change yet again.
He rummaged through his go-bag for the spare t-shirt, silently thanking Harry for his nagging about having one for every show -- just in case. He didn't pay much attention as Calum wandered over, buttoning up his fresh flannel.
"Hey," he mumbled quietly, "Be honest with me now: do you got a bit of a thing for Charlie?"
Luke huffed, "Oh Jesus," he groaned, "What's Ashton been saying?"
"Nothing," Calum shook his head, "Have you been saying something to Ashton?"
"No," Luke replied, "And besides mate, I'm with Melody,"
"I know... unfortunately," he mumbled the last bit, "Are you guys alright? You and Mel?"
"Of course we are," Luke replied immediately, "I'm happy Cal, I swear to ya',"
"I believe ya'," Calum said, "But all joking and jello aside, if you have any problems, I'm always here to talk to you,"
Luke smiled at him with appreciation. He wanted desperately to tell someone how he was actually feeling but saying it out loud would just make it all concrete. And that was the last thing he needed. He wanted to love Melody the way he used to, effortlessly, but these days it felt hard. Forced. It was hard to be happy around her. Hard to be passionate about her and talk about her and he hated feeling so down about it. The last thing Luke needed was people trying to complicate things by asking if he and Charlotte were stoking flames. They were just friends and it made it hard to be so when other people -- namely his friends -- were questioning whether or not there was something more between them.
Charlotte made him happy. She always made him so happy.
Melody had made him happy, too. Maybe they just needed a break from one another so they could get back to where they started. Maybe this tour was just what they needed? It wasn't that Luke didn't care about Melody anymore; he did. And some part of him still loved her dearly while another part told him that he didn't have to put up with her bullshit.
Luke huffed and forced a smile at Calum, "Thanks mate," he said honestly. He contemplated spilling his guts to Calum right then and there. Everything he kept bottled inside. Opening his mouth and letting all his frustrations come flooding out. Instead, the only thing that came out of his mouth was a blatant lie, "But Mel and I are all good at the moment,"
♛♛♛
Luke had been sitting in the dressing room after the show, uninterested in what the others wanted to do for their post-concert celebration. He was chewing on his nails, lost deep in thought.
He had a long message typed out, not yet sent to it intended recipient: Melody. He knew being on tour was technically a 'break' but somehow he still felt bound to her, like their wrists were cuffed together and all he wanted was to cut himself free. He didn't want to break up, but he didn't want her to be his responsibility at the moment.
The anxiety brewing in his stomach had him deleting and rewriting the message over and over again. Should he send a message? Was that cowardly of him? He'd be more of a man if he called; just face the music. He was hesitant. He didn't want to hurt Melody and was scared that if he told her he wanted -- no, needed -- a break, she would immediately go off with someone else and wouldn't want him back.
She's not that type of girl. She just isn't.
Luke was unsure of how to proceed, but the emotional turmoil churning through his head came to an abrupt end when he heard the pounding of footsteps trodding through the halls.
The door to the dressing room burst open and his mates came flooding in, the girls much more refreshed and his mates hastily putting themselves back together for a night out. Charlotte came to sit next to him, and Luke immediately deleted his text message.
"You alright?" she asked, "We were all in the --"
"Craft room. Yeah," Luke nodded, "Just wanted to check in with my mum,"
Her brown eyes lit up, "How's Liz doing?"
"She's good," Luke lied right through his teeth, "She says hi. Oh," he then reached over to the end table, picking up a fake rose, "Someone tossed this at me during 'Amnesia'. Y'want it?"
He waved it in front of her face and booped her nose with it, making Charlotte scrunch her nose and giggle, "Sure. You're such a gentleman,"
"I know," he grinned back.
"Oh Kick-Ass! Hit-Girl!" Kimberly called to them, "We're going out for drinks, you guys coming?"
"I think they'd fancy some alone time," Michael smirked, earning a swift smack at the back of his head from Calum, "Hey! What was that for?"
"Shut up,"
"We're coming," Luke told them.
They all headed out to the nearest bar and as they walked, Luke slowly felt all consuming thoughts of Melody drift away. Once settled in, Ashton ordered everyone a round of shots.
Luke wasn't going to get drunk over his issues with Melody, either. Especially when he had Charlotte by his side. He had nothing he wanted to escape and he was already at ease with her by his side.
After downing a few shots, he began to feel the alcohol hit. The night seemed less impossible with every glass he tossed back. He ran his fingers through his hair and ordered himself a plain coke once his eyelids started to feel heavy.
"You alright?" Charlotte asked, shifting on the barstool to sit parallel to him, "You're looking a little flush," she smirked.
Luke stifled a laugh, "Oh, shut up. I can see it in your face too, Shorty,"
"Me?" Charlotte said in faux surprise, deliberately over exaggerated, "If you think I'm the kind of person to get drunk at the first bar on a pub crawl, you don't know me at all, Hemmings,"
Luke laughed to himself and sipped his coke. Whenever Charlotte got tipsy she would become very energetic and giddy, more so than when she would be sober. Luke however would slide straight into slurred speech, scattered thoughts and random laughter.
"Alright," Luke smirked, "We'll see who lasts the longest then,"
Charlotte grinned back, accepting the challenge, "Well, it ain't gonna' be you if you're already on the soft drinks,"
It wasn't long after that the kids decided to move to another bar. Luke and Charlotte trailed along behind the group, still not yet too tipsy and cracking jokes to each other the entire walk over.
Maria secured them a booth for eight, the kids squeezing in together. Luke had his arm resting behind Charlotte on the backrest for comfort. His other hand was wrapped around a pint of beer that he lifted to clink with the others' glasses.
Tucked in her purse was the rose Luke had given to Charlotte, she was unsure why she brought it with her at this time.
"Did you know that you're not actually supposed to serve beer in a chilled glass?" Calum said.
"How come?" Maria replied, her head resting on her closed fist.
"Well, the condensation dilutes the beer, and the freezing temperature changes the temperature of the beer. That's why bottles out of the fridge taste so icy," he said.
The guitarist took another sip of her pint, "I didn't know you knew that, Cal,"
Calum grinned back sheepishly, "I happen to know a lot of weird shit like that,"
"It's not weird at all," Maria shook her head, "... It's kinda' cool. And good to know should I have to fall back on a bartending career,"
Charlotte kept glancing at Luke throughout the night, trying not to stare for too long but found the task harder and harder the more she drank.
They'd reached the third bar soon enough and everybody was upbeat, well on their way to obnoxious. Cheering for each other and many of the guys sang random songs as they went from bar to bar. The jokes became funnier without any actual substance. The laughter was louder. The night became more alive with every ticking minute.
Charlotte ran her hands up the her arms and shivered, "Jesus and Mary, it's fucking freezing,"
"You want my jacket?" Luke offered, moving to take off his denim jacket.
"Don't be silly," Charlotte replied, shaking her heavy head, "You've got shows to play. You're not allowed to catch cold. Keep it on,"
"Well, you're playing shows too, there's no excuse for you either. C'mere," he lifted the lapel of his jacket, the warm denim and his long arm coming to drape over her. She was immediately blanketed in the comforting scent of his cologne and the warmth of his body heat. Her head cleared for a moment, her stomach tingling.
"Very intuitive of you," she smiled up at him.
"I'm just full of surprises," Luke grinned, pulling the jacket tighter around her and keeping her steady as they walked through the streets.
Somewhere on their way to their final bar, Michael stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon a tattoo parlour -- open late. His drunken mind was past the line of logical reason and he decided in that moment that he wanted another tattoo.
"Hey!" he called to the others, "Let's get some tattoos!"
"Oh, Michael! No!" Chloe chided, "Drunk tattoos are bad enough of an idea. Drunk tattoos in a foreign city are even worse,"
"What do you want to get?" Calum asked him.
"I don't know! But let's go in and see!" Michael replied, bouncing up and down like a child. Charlotte wasn't all that opposed to the idea, she already had a few small tattoos she'd collected on the road. Why not get another?
"I'll go with you, Mikey," she volunteered, slipping out of Luke's jacket.
"You guys go ahead," Kimberly chuckled, "We'll meet you at the bar," the others pressed on.
"Nothing too big, now!" Ashton warned them.
"We'll be ten minutes!" Michael called back, "C'mon Char,"
Charlotte stood in the doorway of the parlour, turning back to Luke, "You want to come? Finally break your ink virginity?"
Luke was just on the cusp of saying yes, but the more sober side of him kept him back. He wasn't opposed to getting tattoos, the boys already had some and they looked damn cool. He wanted one too someday, but there was just something about the needles and threat of pain that turned him off.
"Maybe some other time," he told her, "Have fun, though,"
"Your loss!" she said before disappearing into the parlour.
There was something evidently missing as Luke sat in the booth, not touching his pint as he waited for Charlotte and Michael to return. He was curious as to what she would get, probably something small but significant like her others. When they'd first met she had a Sailor Moon tattoo on her right arm: her favourite show as a kid. After that came the dandelion tattoo on her shoulder blade, the only tattoo her mom really approved of. And then there was one she got in the new year, the outline of a butterfly just behind her left ear. They were all important pieces of Charlotte's character, telling her journey on her own body.
Soon enough he could spot his two best mates weaving through the crowds and joining their friends at the table. Michael and Charlotte both had little bandages wrapped around their middle fingers.
"That was fast," Ashton checked the time on his phone, they had only been gone thirty minutes as opposed to the promised ten, "What did you guys get?"
Michael started pulling off the bandage, "Just an X," he replied, "Didn't hurt much,"
"That's 'cause you're both two sheets out on your way to three," Calum replied, "Final Fantasy Ten?" the guitarist nodded happily.
"Should -- should you be pulling that off so soon?" Maria asked, sober enough to worry.
"It's just a precautionary thing, it's fine," Charlotte assured her, pulling off her bandage as well. On her finger were an array of tiny little dots and stars.
"What is that?" Luke asked her.
"My zodiac," she replied, holding her hand up proudly, "It the constellation of Virgo,"
"Aw, it's cute!" Kimberly beamed.
Luke's hand move subconsciously, tracing around the skin of the freshly inked tattoo. Charlotte gulped at the touch of his warm skin over her cold fingers, it was kind of nice.
"You like it?" she asked.
Luke smiled at her with heavy eyes, "Yeah, it's beautiful. It suits you," he replied.
"What do you guys want to drink?" Chloe asked them.
"Just a beer," Michael replied.
"I'm good right now," Charlotte nodded.
Luke raised his eyebrows, "Tapping out already?" he asked.
"You wish," she replied, "Just taking a little break. I'm tired," her head fell to rest on his shoulder.
"Can you make it back to the hotel? We can call a cab," Michael said.
"Nah, I can walk," Charlotte assured, over-pronouncing the 'k'.
"Well, I'm not carrying you if you fall asleep," Chloe warned, sipping on her martini.
"Don't be ridiculous, Luke's gonna' carry her if anything," Maria teased. Charlotte flipped her off, with the fresh ink being showed off quite nicely.
"That's only 'cause I care about her," Luke replied, taking the high road, "Not gonna' let her fall or get sick on the pavement,"
"I don't get sick," Charlotte whined, her stomach suddenly churning at the mention.
"That's a lie," Calum grinned, fondly remembering the morning after the AMAs; undercooked sausages and all.
Charlotte smiled and moved to stand from her chair, smoothing out her hair, "Maybe so, but at least I own it. Excuse me," she then headed off in the direction of the bathroom.
"She going to hurl?" Ashton asked.
"Oh, she's totally going to hurl," Kimberly replied, simpering a little to herself, "Little lightweight,"
Luke excused himself and went after her, following the little brunette to the unisex toilet. Charlotte just pushed the door open and fell next to the toilet, tossing her head over and coughing up her drinks. Without hesitation, Luke crouched down and held back her hair.
Charlotte heaved everything up quite quickly and immediately felt better. She moved to sit back on the floor, wiping her mouth with toilet paper Luke had handed to her.
"Alright, you win," she chuckled.
"I accept graciously and humbly," Luke said, helping her to her feet, "Time for us to go. You feel okay?"
Charlotte nodded, "Yeah," she took a step, but stopped when the vomit-inducing anxiety flooded her again, "Wait --" they waited a moment, but nothing happened, "Okay, yeah. I'm good,"
Luke chuckled, "Alright, let's get you home,"
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