Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eddie Munson wakes up on a Monday morning immediately concerned by the amount of sunlight coming into his bedroom. 

Scrambling to sit up, his bleary eyes fell on the blinking red numbers of the alarm clock that had definitely reset at some point in the night, and was now mocking him with what was no doubt a wildly inaccurate time.

Filled with dread, he snatches up his wrist watch that's sat in front of it, peering into the little face before he screams, “Fuck!” Launching himself from his bed a moment later, cursing his luck.

He is so late.

He’s got a mere nineteen minutes before he’s supposed to be in the office with his nightmare boss’s morning coffee and protein box, or all hell will break loose. 

And with as many soul-crushing years as he’s poured into this job, he’s determined not to lose it over breakfast.

Desperate to save his own ass, he gets ready in record time, rushing out of the door with his work clothes in disarray as he speeds down the busy city street.

He’s cutting it way too close - but he’s hopeful he can make it - right up until he’s forced to skid to a stop as he breaches the front door of the Starbucks. 

A long line looms in front of him, the morning rush in full swing by this point of the morning, and his face falls at the sight.

However, before his devastation can fully settle in, he hears the call of “Eddie!” A hand behind the counter shooting up as a voice shouts out. “Your usual!” 

Tammy, a barista who’s been serving (and flirting with) him every day for as long as he can remember, smiles brightly as he jumps the line, handing him off two coffee cups in a carrier, along with a bag containing his boss’s breakfast order.

“Oh shit! You literally saved my life! Thank you so much Tammy!” Eddie drops a fifty on the counter from his emergency cash as he goes. The barista titters behind one of her hands at him, pushing a lock of tousled hair behind her ear as he bolts for the office.

He makes it to his building a few minutes later, just barely catching the elevator. Once it shuts behind him, Eddie promptly folds in half, chest heaving, practically wheezing to catch his breath.

Cursing himself for not being in better shape, he dismisses his coworker’s alarmed looks and manages to compose himself by the time he reaches his floor. Rushing out as his coworker Sam shouts “You’re cutting it close!” at him. 

“I know! I know!” Eddie’s replying, in such a hurry to get to his desk that he doesn’t account for the slow reflexes of the mailroom employee who’s come up to make his morning delivery. 

The two promptly crash into each other, one of the cups of coffee a casualty of their collision.

“Fuck!” Eddie exclaims. The hot liquid is now clinging to his button-down, and he can vaguely see the shape of the death of his career aspirations in the stain starting to form.

“Sorry!” The mailman sheepishly says, looking uselessly for something to clean it with before Eddie waves him off, muttering about how he was equally to blame.

Even so. Lamenting his no good, terrible, very bad, morning, he rushes to his coworkers cubicle, saying in lieu of greeting to him, “I need the shirt off your back, literally.” 

Patrick, it seems, could not care any less, looking disdainfully at Eddie’s ruined button down. “You’re kidding, right?” 

Eddie doesn’t have time for this. He resorts to bribery. “Red Hot Chili Peppers. This Friday. Two tickets and company VIP passes for your shirt. You have five seconds to decide.” Glances at the clock and starts to count down. “Five, four-“

“Deal.” Patrick mutters before popping the buttons of his shirt, and shrugging it off. Eddie does the same, giving him the stained shirt and donning the clean one as he starts to hear small pinging sounds throughout the office, notifications going from desktop to desktop. 

Just as Eddie is buttoning the last of the buttons, pulling his long hair from where it had gotten stuck in one of them from his haste, he dives into his chair, reading the chat that pops up from @Samantha.Stone that reads, HBIC incoming! 

The rest of the office reacts to her message accordingly. High heels are slipped on in place of comfortable flats, pocket mirrors are pulled out to make sure eyeliner is just so and that there’s no incriminating spinach in between teeth. Casual magazines are shoved away and spreadsheets pulled up - rosaries are clutched tight and prayed with. Like it’ll help.

At Sam’s warning, Eddie takes his place outside of the glass doors to his boss’s office. Righting himself, he straightens out his clothing and fixes his hair, holding out the coffee cup that was supposed to be his in one hand and the plastic breakfast box in the other.

Lo and behold, moments later, just as Sam had forewarned, the demon himself appears. 

Steve fucking Harrington. 

With his perfect untouchable hair and pristine suit, his discerning hazel eyes are locked in on his phone, not even noticing the fake smile Eddie puts on as he approaches, his walk brisk and evenly measured as Eddie chirps. “Morning boss! You have a half an hour until your conference call.” 

Steve doesn’t even look up from his phone as he nods in disinterest, leaving Eddie with the task of handing him the hot coffee and breakfast all while taking his bag from him, without dropping anything. 

“Yes I know.” He replies dryly. 

“Staff meeting at 9.” Eddie continues, as he walks into the office behind him, Steve settling into his large leather chair. 

“Did you call… um…” Steve groans, spinning said chair to face the desk, “Uh, what’s her name? The one with the ugly hands?” He snaps his fingers repeatedly as if that will speed the answer along. 

“Yes.” Eddie offers. Knowing who he means, nodding as he passes him a stack of papers. 

Steve goes into it immediately, flipping post-its and thumbing through pages. Eddie continues, “Yes, I did call her. I told her your thoughts about her client's new album and the deadline for getting the finalizations to the sound engineers.” 

Steve hands some of the papers back to him, straightening the remainders as Eddie goes on about the tasks on the agenda for today. “Also, your immigration lawyer called. He said it’s imperative that you-” Eddie’s words come to a stop when Steve raises his hand.

“Cancel the call, push the meeting to tomorrow, and keep the lawyer on the sheets.” Steve pauses in his work, a bit of smugness to his tone as he adds. “Oh, and get a hold of PR, have them start drafting a press release. The little songbird my colleagues so generously called ‘unattainable’ is now performing at the Grammys.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened in awe. No matter how much of a terror his boss was, he was impressive in his own right, “Wow. Nicely done.” He compliments.

Steve scoffs, turning in his chair to his computer screen, all confidence and bitchiness as he replies. “If I want your praise, I will ask for it.” 

Eddie takes the words as a dismissal. Steve wasn’t going to ever actually ask him for praise. Eddie’s praise didn’t mean shit to someone like Steve.

So he goes, and as he does so, Steve moves to drink his coffee, pausing when he notices something unusual on his cup.

He clears his throat to catch his subordinate’s attention and Eddie stops walking, pausing in the doorway.

“Who is— who is Tammy Thompson? And why does she want me to call her?” Steve’s eyebrows are raised as he turns the coffee cup to show the side where it says, Call me! Above a phone number, signed enthusiastically by said Tammy Thompson, with a sharpie heart.

Eddie pales at the sight. Floundering as he timidly explains. “Well… that was originally my cup.” 

Steve looks down at the cup with scorn, voice dull. “And I’m drinking your coffee why ?” 

Eddie is grappling. “Because your coffee spilled.”

Steve takes a sip, and after doing so, his tone becomes accusatory. “So, you drink lavender oat milk lattes?” He asks. 

“I do.” Eddie nods. 

Steve smirks at him then, “Is that a coincidence?” 

“Incredibly, it is.” The phone rings, and Eddie feels a small semblance of security that he can keep his job a little while longer as he crosses the room to answer it, “I mean, I wouldn’t possibly drink the same coffee you drink just in case yours spilled. That would be pathetic.” Eddie chuckles, voice laced with sarcasm as he picks up the phone. 

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington’s office.” Eddie greets. 

“Hey, Munson. It’s Hargrove.” Eddie hears as he spares a glance at Steve - who's already found something else to scrutinize if his back being to him with his fingers clicking away at the keyboard is any indication. 

“Hey, Mr. Hargrove.” Eddie responds, his words causing Steve to turn around abruptly, with a wicked smile that immediately unsettles him.

“Just confirming Steve and I are still on for our 8:10, this morning. He emailed me about it last night.” 

Eddie looks at Steve with a confused expression, answering reflexively although he had no prior knowledge of this meeting. “Actually, we’re headed to your office right now.” He puts the phone down when Billy’s line goes dead. 

“Why are we headed to Hargrove’s office?” He questions Steve, who gives him a dry look in response that Eddie interprets as ‘What’s it to you? You do as I say.’

A fair point if he’s being honest. And, rather than wait for an answer that won’t come, Eddie rushes ahead of Steve, beating him out of the door with a second to spare as he gets to his keyboard, working quickly to send a message office wide. 

@Edward_Munson: *is typing…*

Dings sound as his message goes out.

HE’S ON THE MOVE!

The notification spreads, alerting the whole floor as they all scramble to pretend to be working just as Steve comes strutting out of his office. 

Eddie follows him at a quick pace, trying to ignore his brain playing the imperial march after them as he takes advantage of this rare moment where Steve has nothing in front of him to ask, “Have you listened to my demo yet?” 

“Uh, I listened to the first few songs.” Steve responds, surprised, before the cool expression comes back, “I wasn’t that impressed.” 

Eddie sighs, disappointment stinging as he bites his lip, “Can I say something?” 

Steve doesn’t hesitate. “No.” 

Eddie persists, “I know my music, okay? There’s an album here. A good one - the kind of album you used to produce.” 

Steve rolls his eyes, “Uh, wrong. Also, don’t ever imply that I don’t still produce good albums, and, for what it’s worth, I do think you order the same coffee as me, just in case you spill. Which is, in fact, pathetic.” 

“Or impressive.” Eddie counters weakly. 

“It’d be impressive if you didn’t spill it in the first place.” As they approach the office they're aiming for, he reminds Eddie, “Now remember, you’re just a prop in here.” 

“Won’t say a word.” Eddie mutters, and follows Steve inside as he waltzes right up to their coworkers desk, the other man barely looking up to acknowledge him.

Ouch. Eddie knows Steve won’t take that lightly…and his stomach becomes unsettled by the display of testosterone he knows he’s about to witness.

They get right to it. 

“Our fearless leader, and his right hand man.” William “Billy” Hargrove jeers, still without pausing whatever it is he’s doing on his laptop. “So nice of you to visit my office.”

“Ah.” The side of Steve’s mouth quirks up in a smile, eyeing his office furniture. “Nice desk. Is it new?” 

“It is. Handcrafted. No one does artisanship like the Italians.” Billy replies without looking up. 

His statement, in their present company, could have easily been misconstrued as flattery - but Eddie knows better. Billy Hargrove doesn’t care enough to appeal to Steve, and so if he’s saying it, he must truly believe it.

Not that it would have worked anyways. Steve takes in his answer as he laments with a small sigh, mumbling “So true.” Like the fact of it is tragic, before he leads right into his next thought, with no hesitation or sympathy, declaring, “Billy, I am letting you go.”

Hargrove looks up from his computer then - eyes wide with disbelief, and even Eddie - who thought he knew Steve well - is looking at Steve with barely contained shock. 

“Excuse me?” Billy repeats, glancing at Eddie who expertly avoids his eyes as he closes the door in order to stop anyone from listening in on their conversation. 

Billy looks back at their boss as Steve goes on. “I asked you over a dozen times to get the performer I wanted for the Grammys, and you didn’t do it. You didn’t even try, did you?” 

“T-They’re unattainable-“ the other man stammers.

“And yet just this morning, I attained them.” Steve replied. Clicking his tongue in disappointment. 

“But…” Billy starts. 

Steve smiles sarcastically, nodding, “I know. I know. Celebrities can be a little scary. For you . That’s okay.” He placates. 

Moving across the office as he makes the other man an offer. “Now, I will give you two months to find another job, and then you can tell everyone that you resigned, okay?” 

Satisfied with his own generosity, Steve turns toward Eddie, motioning for him to open the door. They both walk out of the office hastily. 

Once they’re out of ear shot, his boss’ eyes shift to Eddie, walking at his side. “What's his 20?” Steve whispers at him, making Eddie look back for him. 

Behind them, Billy’s pacing in his office like a caged animal, pulling at his hair. “He’s moving. He has crazy eyes.” Eddie whispers back as he tries to match Steve’s steps. 

Steve frowns deeply, still whispering. “Don’t do it, Billy. Don’t do it.”

But it happens. Moments later, Billy charges out of the office screaming. “You son of a bitch!” The exclamation followed by collective gasping from onlookers. 

Steve and Eddie stop walking, both of them turning to Billy even as the pitying look settles across Steve’s face.

“You can’t fire me!” Billy yells. “You don’t think I can see what you’re doing here? Setting me up so you can get rid of me and make yourself look like a hero to the board!” Billy points, “Because you are threatened by me!” 

Steve's face changes then - pity turning to amusement as he breaks out in a playful smile in answer to Billy continuing on his rant, “You are a monster.” 

“Billy, stop.” Steve says, that smile being redirected as he looks reassuringly to the other employees that have started to watch the commotion. Ever the picture of ease, even as Billy hurls insults at him.

Billy goes on. “Just because you have no semblance of a life outside of this office, you think that you can treat all of us like your own personal slaves.” Billy moves closer. “You know what? I feel sorry for you. Because you know what you’ll have on your deathbed?”

He’s near enough to them now that Eddie can see split flying, the assistant flinching as he snarls “Nothing and no one.” 

But while Eddie winces at his words, Steve just lets out a sympathetic noise, moving closer until the two men are toe to toe, his answering voice honey sweet. 

“Listen carefully, Billy. I didn’t fire you because I feel threatened. No.” Billy glances around the office in arrogant disbelief, as if aid will be found there.

Steve continues. “I fired you because you’re lazy, entitled, incompetent, and you spend more time cheating on your wife than you do in your office.” Billy’s eyes widen as Steve goes on. “And if you say another word, Eddie here is going to have you thrown out on your ass, okay?” 

Billy opens his mouth to object, but Steve continues, “Another word. Another word and you’re out of here with an armed escort. Eddie will film it with his camera phone, and put it online. Is that what you want?” 

Billy gives the two of them murderous glares, but he doesn’t say anything. 

“Didn’t think so.” When he’s satisfied, Steve finally turns his back on them, walking down the hall. 

Eddie is glued to him like his shadow as Steve instructs him flatly, “Have the interns take his desk and move it to my office.” 

“Will do.” Eddie replies. 

“Also, I need you around this weekend to help review his clients.” He adds, Eddie stumbling to a stop.

“This weekend?” He repeats in surprise.

“You have a problem with that?” Steve glares. 

Eddie stutters, “No. I - Just - it’s  my uncle’s 65th birthday so I was gonna go home and-'' Steve waves a hand dismissively, clearly having been rhetorical in his asking as he heads into his office, not even listening to what Eddie’s saying as he stutters through promising to cancel and be available to Steve. 

Then Eddie deflates.

He hasn’t made it home for a birthday since Wayne’s 60th - back before he started this godforsaken job. And now he has to tell him that he’ll be missing another.

He knows Wayne will understand. He always does. But it doesn’t change the fact that Eddie works for the devil. 

The old man tells him as much on a call around lunch, suggesting, as he always does, that he quit if it’s making him miserable.

Eddie launches into his usual defense, until he sees Steve approaching, and then he’s changing his tone, using his customer service voice dismissively - feigning aiding a client - before quickly getting off the call.

“That your family?” Steve asks bitterly. No misapprehension on his end. Not even for a moment.

Eddie puts the phone on the receiver. Doesn’t lie. “Yes.”

“They tell you to quit?” He presses.

“Every single day.” Eddie replies, and then without missing a beat, picks up the phone as it rings. “Mr. Harrington’s office.” He greets, eyes still on Steve. His loyal devotee.

A woman’s voice on the other end of the phone overshadows Steve’s gloom as she tells him. “Hello, this is the office of Mr. Holloway. He’d like to speak to Mr. Harrington in his office as soon as possible, please.” 

“Oh. Okay. All right.” The two hang up.

“Holloway wants to see you upstairs immediately.” He tells Steve.

Steve groans in reply, “Fine. Come and get me in ten minutes with an excuse. We’ve got a lot to do.” 

Steve repeats it as he walks away, like Eddie is an idiot, despite him not failing him once in years. “Ten minutes.” 

“Okay.” Eddie answers, trying not to look at Steve’s ass as he heads to the elevators. And failing spectacularly, as he always does.

While he’s gone, Eddie stares at the clock as it ticks to the next minute. After five, he heads upstairs. He whispers a quick hello to Nicole, Mr. Holloway’s secretary, before hesitating outside of the office to the company president, waiting to interrupt down to the minute.  

Once it has been ten minutes exactly, he knocks, the voices inside halting before Mr. Holloway, is yelling for him to come in.

He pokes his head inside, still holding the door open, only to find the both men in pause, Steve turning his head at him, as Mr. Holloway sees who it is, his expression mildly perturbed. 

“We’re in a meeting.” He says in a clipped tone, but Eddie is infinitely more afraid of displeasing Steve than someone who at least must have a shred of human understanding in him.

He musters his most charming smile, “Sorry to interrupt.” Rattling off his excuse, he notes how Steve’s whole body seems to unload some of its usual tension, his whole demeanor changing. 

Steve’s looking at him with relief, and Eddie is put off by it, by the way Steve catches his eye as he mouths “ Come here,” when Eddie is done speaking, his head jerking forward for Eddie to come in. 

Eddie obeys immediately, coming over from where he was standing at the door, walking slowly to Steve’s side as he watches Tom watch the two of them. 

Steve turns back to Mr. Holloway, “Tom I understand… I understand the predicament that we are in.” 

“And—” Steve spares him another look. “And…there’s…well, I mean…There’s something that you should know.” Steve clears his throat, building to this information as he looks at Eddie.

Then Steve declares, “We’re getting married.” 

Eddie blinks at him. “Who’s getting married?” He whispers, his incredulous question said loud enough for only him to hear. Steve smiles at him, the dazzling version he reserves for clients. But not Eddie. Never Eddie. 

“You and I, sweetheart. We’re getting married.” He nearly whispers back. Like it wasn’t news to them both.

Steve nods as if he has further settled into this idea, looking back to their boss as he repeats. “We’re getting married. Eddie and I.” 

Then Steve gives him a familiar look - one that has always meant ‘ Do this or I’ll fire you. ’

Eddie suddenly finds that he can’t nod fast enough. “Yes! Yes!” 

He looks back at Mr. Holloway as well as he confirms, “We are getting married.” The words feel clunky in his mouth.

And maybe it’s a joke, a misunderstanding, a test of loyalty that surely he’s going to pass?

Only the company president hesitates at his confirmation, addressing Steve as he asks in slight amusement but wholehearted confusion. “Isn’t he… your secretary?” 

“Executive assistant.” Eddie butts in to clarify, like it makes any difference at all. 

Steve laughs heartily, going for the kill. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time one of us fell for our secretaries. Would it, Tom?” 

Tom gives him a wry sort of ‘you-got-me-there’ smile when he mentions it - Steve bringing to recall a similar event transpiring with his (third?) wife.

“So, yeah…The truth is, you know, Eddie and I. We’re…we are uh, just two people who weren’t meant to fall in love, but we did. All those late nights at the office, the music…” Steve squeezes Eddie’s arm then and continues, “I tried to fight it, and well, you can’t fight a love like this.” 

Tom actually looks satisfied and Steve clears his throat. “So… Are we good - with this? Are you happy? Because we are happy.” Steve gestures to the two of them, “So happy.” 

Tom smiles, voice soft. “Steve. It’s terrific.” He raises his hand, displaying his own wedding ring. “Just make it legal. Mmm?” 

“Of course! We uh, we need to get ourselves to the immigration office, huh? Straighten this whole mess out.” Steve chuckles, bidding him goodbye before the two head back to their own floor, Eddie’s thoughts a whirlwind.

Eddie tries to follow Steve’s fast footsteps. They’re not even on their floor yet, and the news has already spread. 

Computers ding with notifications, sounding off behind them as they go, the entire office looking at the two of them, unable to hold their whispers until they pass. Patrick snickers at him, making lewd gestures as he passes, his shirt stained with coffee.

Eddie wordlessly follows Steve into his office, closing the door behind him, and watches as his boss exhales a sigh, sitting on his desk and looking at Eddie expectantly - like they were here for a planned meeting and not like he didn’t just announce their engagement.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Reminds himself of why he works here. With this sociopath. Then he tells said sociopath, “I don’t understand what’s happening.” 

“This is for you too.” Steve replies, as though it’s all so simple. 

“Do explain.” Eddie deadpans.

“I was going to be deported, and they were going to give Billy my job.” Steve says, like it makes all the senses in the world.

“So, naturally, I would have to marry you.” Eddie gapes, tone as sarcastic as possible.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Steve is being sarcastic now too, “Were you saving yourself for someone special?” 

Eddie is mildly offended at what Steve is implying. “I’d like to think so. Plus, you know, it’s illegal.” 

Steve chuckles, “They’re looking for terrorists, not for music producers.” 

“Steve.” Eddie grits out, hoping his voice is coming out firm. 

“Yes?” Steve answers nonchalantly, like they’re just having another conversation about his job performance. 

“I’m not going to marry you.” Eddie insists. 

“Sure you are.” Steve snaps back, “Because if you don’t marry me, your dreams of touching people’s lives with your lyrical prowess are dead.” 

Eddie’s jaw actually drops. Steve bulldozes ahead and breaks it down for him. “Billy is going to fire you the second I’m gone. Guaranteed. Which leaves you unemployed and connectionless in the music industry, begging producers to listen to some no-name’s track. That means that all the time that we spent together - all the lattes, all the canceled dates, all the midnight Excedrin runs, were all for nothing, and you can kiss being any kind of a musician goodbye.”

He continues, as though all hope is not lost. “But don’t worry, after the required allotment of time, we’ll get a quickie divorce, and you’ll be done with me. But until then, like it or not, you are mine. Okay?” 

He’s his.

The phone rings from Eddie’s desk. Steve gestures pointedly out the door, “Phone’s ringing.” 

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with himself other than exit the office and pick it up.

“Good morning, Mr. Harrington’s office.” He says robotically.

Chapter Text

When Eddie and Steve arrive at the immigration office, Steve immediately bullies his way past the line and to the front counter. 

Charming the disgruntled with carefully placed Italian, he offers more than one apologetic “ Scusi ,” the word flowing from his lips with a smile that makes several people swoon. Eddie may or not be among them.

Once he’s secured his standing, he then directs that same charm to the employee working the counter as he tells her, “I need you to file this fiancé visa for me, please.” 

After taking and looking over his file, the older woman asks him, “Mr. Harrington?”

“Yes.” Steve nods.

She gestures for him and Eddie both to follow her, pushing her glasses up her nose as she instructs. “Please come with me.” 

As they leave the front counter, she leads them into an office where Eddie sits down as they wait by themselves. Steve’s still standing, lurking over by the door, glued to his phone, typing like there’s no tomorrow. 

Business as usual, his fiancé is. A thought that unsettles Eddie even more deeply as he whispers “I have a bad feeling.” 

His words precede a slight commotion outside, where both men can hear bantering coming closer to where they wait. 

The woman who had brought them in earlier appears to be conversing with an absolute mountain of a man, who can be heard insisting, “Flo we’ve discussed this…mornings are for coffee and contemplation…coffee and contemplation!”

Yanking open his office door to deal with his uninvited guests, Eddie nearly jumps out of his skin. With a donut and a coffee in hand, the immigration officer crosses the room as he greets them with a flat tone.

Introduces, “Hello. I’m Jim Hopper.” As he moves to sit behind the desk, setting his pastry and coffee down and scratching at the scruff of his beard. “And you must be Steve and Eddie. Sorry about the wait.” 

He lets out a small chuckle, before letting the file he holds fall onto his desk with no care at all, dismisses, “It’s a crazy day today. You know.” 

“Oh, of course, of course. We understand.” Steve has lowered his phone, but still cradles it in his hands as he spouts nonsense. “And I can’t tell you how much we appreciate you seeing us on such short notice.” 

Steve smiles at him, and Hopper smiles back. Both of them are as fake as the plastic chair that Eddie’s sweating into.

“Okay.” Hopper gets right to it then, looking over the file briefly.  “So,” He flips it shut with a noisy snap. “I just have one question for you.” 

Uh-oh. 

Eddie decidedly does not like the sound of that, trying to keep his expression neutral. Unsure if he’s succeeding.

“Are you both committing fraud to avoid his deportation so he can keep his job as a music producer?” Hopper asks sternly, looking pointedly at Eddie.

“Where did— Where did you hear that?” Eddie finds himself asking instead of answering, while Steve makes a sound that sounds scandalized at the suggestion. 

Oscar worthy. Truly.

“We had a phone tip this afternoon from a man named…” Hopper starts, looking down at his notes as Steve dramatically sighs, interrupting Hopper with a sympathetic smile. 

“Would it be a William Hargrove?” He asks him.

Hopper looks back up at them, “Billy Hargrove.” He finishes.

Steve shakes his head sadly. “Oh, Billy. Poor Billy. I’m so sorry.” Steve frowned, “Billy is nothing but a disgruntled former employee, and I apologize…But we know you’re incredibly busy with a long line of people to tend to. If you’ll just give us our next step, we will be out of your hair and on our way.” 

“Mr. Harrington, please.” Hopper gestures for him to take a seat. Steve does so warily. 

“Let me explain to you the process that’s about to unfold.” Hopper leans on his desk as the men both nod. 

“Step one will be a scheduled interview. I’ll put you each in a room, and I’ll ask you every little question that a real couple would know about each other.” He explains. As if that’s the easy part. “Step two, I dig deeper. I look at your phone records, I talk to your neighbors, I interview your co-workers.” He’s almost glaring at them now. 

“If your answers don’t match up at every point,” He points at Steve, “ You will be deported indefinitely.” He turns to Eddie, “And you , young man, will have committed a felony punishable by a fine of $250,000. And a stay of 5 years in a federal prison.” He finishes. 

Eddie glances out the window of the office then, catching the sight of a handcuffed woman who protests loudly as she is escorted out of the building. Good God. 

Eddie can’t go to jail. He might look scary, but he’s not fit for prison. 

“So, Eddie.” Hopper continues, the other man’s eyes snapping towards him as Eddie inclines his head. 

“You wanna… you want to talk to me?” Hopper smiles, even winks at him, knowingly.

Eddie’s mind moves a mile a minute - he calculates, recalculates, and then he shakes his head in answer.

“No?” Hopper confirms.

Another head shake. “Well, not no…” Eddie clears his throat, “The truth is…” 

Steve’s eyes widen as he looks at Eddie. 

This is it. No turning back now. Eddie clears his throat, “Mr. Hopper, the truth is… Steve and I…” He turns to Steve, meeting his eyes, “…are just two people who weren’t supposed to fall in love… but we did.” 

Steve smiles at him in relief, nodding, before looking back at Hopper through his lashes. 

Eddie goes on. “We couldn’t tell anyone we work with, because of the record deal.” 

Steve’s expression flickers with surprise as the immigration officer probes, “Record deal?” 

Eddie nods, “Yeah.” 

“Your…?” Steve asks, staring him down.

Eddie beams at him. “We…We both felt that it would be deeply inappropriate, if I were to be offered a record deal while still holding the title of Steve’s executive assistant…” 

Steve huffs, masking it with a cough. 

“But with the wedding ,” Eddie emphasizes the word for Steve’s benefit. A mild threat. “Coming up - well, I’m not going to be Steve’s assistant anymore. Right sweetheart?” He looks at his boss.

Steve is smiling, but there’s nothing behind his eyes. He’s trapped him.

Good.

“Yes.” Steve grits out.

Hopper clicks his pen. Seemingly satisfied. “So…Have the two of you told your parents about your secret love?” 

“Oh…” Steve laughed, “Impossible. My parents and I haven’t spoken in six years. Not since they found out I was bisexual and kicked me out of the house.” 

Eddie can’t help but glance at him. The way he says it so casually, the laugh that comes with it, how easy it was to say for him. Like it didn’t hurt…but Eddie knows better.

He finds himself taking Steve’s hand. Squeezing it. He thinks it’s the first time he’s ever intentionally touched Steve. It’s exhilarating. Especially when Steve looks down at the touch all soft, as if in awe.

“No brothers or sisters either.” Steve nods, like it’s nothing, like it’s not a big deal that he has no family to speak of. Hopper clocks it, hums softly. Asks Eddie, “And what about your family?”

“Mom passed. Dad is M.I.A.” He too tries to be casual. He can’t tell if he does it spectacularly or not, because Steve offers no condolence squeeze of his own, though he hasn’t dropped his hand. “I have an uncle though who may as well be my father...Despite accusing me for a very long time of wanting Steve, he doesn’t know that we uh, got together.”

Steve doesn’t like the look that Hopper gets when Eddie reveals that a man who may as well be his father wouldn’t be privy to such big news, and quickly interjects, “We’re actually going to tell him this weekend.” 

Eddie whips his head at Steve at that. He can’t be serious.

“It’s his 65th birthday, and we wanted to be there.” Steve explains. “We thought it’d be a nice surprise…and uh, as Eddie mentioned, he did suspect at least Eddie’s feelings for…quite a while.” Steve chuckles. 

Eddie wonders if Steve knows that his words ring with a word of truth, nonetheless perturbed at the implication, even as he watches his boss lie with so much ease. 

Hopper smirks, “And where is this surprise gonna take place?” 

“Eddie’s uncle’s home.” Steve gives Eddie a subtle glance, asking for assistance. 

“Where is that located again?” Hopper presses on. 

“Um…” Steve scoffs with a laugh. charmingly unprepared as he fixates on Eddie with a little quip of, “Why am I doing all the talking? It’s your uncle. Why don’t you tell him where he lives? Jump in.” 

Eddie grins sadistically, doing as he’s asked with glee. “Hawkins.” 

“Hawkins.” Steve confirms, looking back at Hopper. 

“Indiana.” Eddie finishes with a smile. 

“Indiana.” Steve repeats, and abruptly turns to him in surprise. Eddie is already looking back at him, giving his boss the sweetest smile he can muster. 

“Hawkins, Indiana. Real small-town America.” Eddie’s smile widens, sweetens.

“You’re gonna go to Indiana this weekend?” Hopper repeats, his doubts obvious. 

Steve nods, voice pained. “Yes.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie adds.

“We are going to Indiana. That’s where my little… that’s where my Eddie is from.” Steve is clearly thrown, and Eddie almost laughs in delight. 

Hopper sighs, “Okay. Fine. I see how this is gonna go. I will see you both…in two weeks.” He rips a piece of notepad to scribble on it, “At 11am, for your scheduled interview, and your answers better match up.” 

Hopper stands then, prompting both of them to do the same. They realize they are still holding hands, and drop them quickly. 

Steve’s already on his phone saying hello to someone as Eddie takes the piece of paper from Hopper with their scribbled appointment.

“Thank you.” He says, pocketing it as the officer teases him, “I’m looking forward to this one.” 

“ We’re looking forward to this one.” Eddie replies as Steve greets the caller with an excited tone, waving a dismissive goodbye to Hopper and fleeing the room. 

“It’s gonna be fun! I’ll be checking up on you.” Hopper calls after them. 

By the time they’ve spilled out onto the street, and escaped the scrutiny of the feds, Steve is off the phone call, barking orders. 

“Okay, so, what’s gonna happen is we will go over there. We will pretend that we have been dating, tell your uncle that we’re engaged.” Steve continues to look at his screen, as if it’s all so simple. Making plans. “Use the miles for the tickets. First class, but make sure you use the miles. If we don’t get the miles, we’re not doing it. Oh! And confirm the vegan meal, okay? Because last time they gave it to an actual vegan, and they forced me to eat this gross salad thing, which was…” 

Trailing off, Steve looks up from his phone, blinking when he sees Eddie not taking him as seriously as he could be. “Hey, why aren’t you taking notes?” 

“I’m sorry, were you not in that room?” Eddie points his thumb at the building. 

“What? What?” Steve asks, looking genuinely confused as to what he’s worried about. 

Eddie blinks. Waits. It clicks a moment later.

“Oh! The thing you said about a record deal?” Steve nods with a smirk, “Genius! He completely fell for it!” 

“I was serious.” Eddie clenches his jaw, “I’m looking at a $250,000 fine and five years in jail. That changes things.”

Steve makes a face, “A record deal? No way.” 

“Then I quit, and you’re screwed. Goodbye Stevie, it really has been a little slice of heaven.” Eddie starts to walk away. 

“Eddie!” Steve calls back, chasing after him and oh boy does Eddie like that feeling. “Eddie! Eddie! Fine! Fine.” The other man halts, and turns back to face Steve. 

“I’ll give you a record deal. Fine.” Steve nods, agreeing to his terms even if it kills him. “If you go through with this weekend, the interview, and the wedding, I will give you a record deal. Happy?”

“Not in two years. Right away.” Eddie counters back, Steve rolls his eyes with a sharp breath. 

“Fine.” He huffs.

“And you’ll give me complete creative control.” He adds.

Steve pauses, looking baffled and conflicted, “Eddie…”

“Complete creative control, or I walk.” Eddie continues, “Also, we’ll tell my uncle about our engagement when I want and how I want. If I have to add lying to the man who saved my life in addition to this fucking shit show, then I want to do it on my own terms.” He feels really fucking good right now. Powerful even. So he demands, “Now, ask me nicely.” 

Steve stares at him, “Ask you nicely what?” 

Eddie smirks, “Ask me nicely to marry you, Steve.” 

“What?” He wrinkles his nose and Eddie shows his teeth. “You heard me. On your knees.” 

“Here?” Steve’s voice breaks and Eddie snickers, crossing his arms. Waits.

“Fine.” His boss finally grits out, kneeling down and holding out his hand expectantly for Eddie’s. Eddie is pleased, giving it over with a little wiggle of his fingers.

He’s kneeling like a beggar and not someone proposing, with both of his legs tucked under him, scowling so pretty that Eddie can’t stand it as Steve snarks, “Does this work for you?” 

“Oh, yeah. I like this.” Eddie nods in reply, smug, thinking to himself that Steve never needs to know exactly how much.

Steve is glaring daggers as he asks him flatly,  “Will you marry me?” 

Eddie offers a small shake of his head in answer. “No.” He’s firm. “Say it nicely. Say it like you mean it.” 

Steve breathes deeply, trying again, slowly drawing out his name as he asks,  “Eddie,”

“Yes, Steve?” Eddie smiles down at him. 

“Eddie, my darling Eddie.” Eddie has to ignore the way his voice lowers, pleading and yet commanding in a way that would have their roles reversed - Eddie on his knees - in a second. His answering tone he just manages to keep indifferent. “I’m listening.” 

“Would you, please, pretty please, with cherries on top, marry me?” Steve pouts, and his lips are so lush that Eddie might actually die.

Instead of doing that, or something equally embarrassing, Eddie purses his own lips, looking up, pretending that he’s thinking it over when really he’s trying to expel the mental image of Steve Harrington, evil incarnate, down on his knees for him. 

He caves then. “Okay. I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, but I’ll do it. Check your email for the travel arrangements.” 

Eddie turns to walk away, and then he pauses, turning back around.

“You know, that reminds me.” He grins wickedly. “You’ve never seen me outside of my work attire before.”

Steve looks wary, slowly rising from the ground and dusting himself off. “No, I have not.”

Eddie cackles . “Oh, Stevie, this is going to be so much fun. I’ll see you at the airport - I’ll be the one in black .”

Eddie is wearing black, to be fair. 

Painted on his nails without fear for the first time in six years. 

While previously he had always taken it off with remover before heading into the office on a Monday morning - or heading to do Steve’s errands on the weekend…Now he didn’t bother to conceal it.

Why would he? When he and Steve were so “happily engaged.”

So, yes. His nails are black. His jeans are black, ripped, a metal chain hanging from them with his old Hellfire Club shirt tucked in. Atop it he wears his black leather jacket, and his denim vest covered in hand-sewed patches. All of his rings adorn his fingers as he bounces on his white-Reebok clad feet.

Eyes peeled for Steve’s arrival, he’s positively giddy when the car he’d ordered approaches the curb. 

Waving it down, he greeted Steve’s chauffeur through the passenger window before going and opening Steve’s door himself. 

Once he does so, he makes a big show of kissing Steve’s hand as he pulls him from the town car, his boss’s jaw going slack at the sight of him as he exits it and rises to his full height, taking in Eddie’s appearance.

For a second. 

And then he composes himself, snatching his hand so he can rip the sunglasses off of his face and tuck them frantically into the collar of his dress shirt.

“You can’t be serious.” He says. 

Eddie stands his ground, taking a step back with a smile and extending the handle to the small suitcase he had with him on the curb with a click. “As the plague, baby.” 

Steve looks like he’s questioning his life choices - until Eddie turns to head to the terminal. “You’ll want to grab your things and hurry along, dear. We still have to check in.”

Surprised, Steve grabs his bags - way too many for a weekend trip but not if you weren’t expecting to have to carry them yourself - and scrambles after Eddie.

He’s clearly pissed when he catches up, his hands full as he reminds Eddie pointedly. “I am still your boss.” 

And, okay, yeah. So Eddie may have been pushing his luck lately. He was dependent on Steve to some degree in this arrangement as well, and it would definitely be worth it for the two of them to sit and hash out how their being fiancés would change their dynamic.

Soon. For now, Eddie grabs the bags. “I am nothing if not a good employee to my future husband.” He quips.

Steve forges on, unamused. They get through the check-in, and then they have some time to kill as Eddie settles his nerves with a rum and coke, courtesy of the private bar in the first class lounge. 

Before he can even move to pay for it, Steve slides his Black card over. Feeling generous it seems.

Eddie looks at him doubtfully, arms crossed as he leans over the bar. Steve isn’t smiling, just shrugs and explains only for him to hear. “My man wouldn’t have to pay for things.”

Surprised, Eddie takes his drink, rings clinking against the glass, unsure of what to say before Steve is leaving his orbit, wrapped up in his phone once again.

Eddie nurses the liquor until it’s time for them to board, finding their plush first class seats and settling into them, taking in all the amenities with barely contained awe.

Steve watches Eddie shed his denim vest and his leather jacket, getting comfortable and revealing the tattoos along his forearms, and he feels his mouth go dry. He swallows as he stares at his phone screen, unseeing.

Once he has to stow it, their phones set to airplane mode, Eddie commands Steve’s attention, pulling out a booklet.

“So, these are the questions that INS is gonna ask us.” Eddie says in explanation, “The good news is, I know everything about you, but the bad news is that you have two weeks to learn all this about me. So, you should…probably study.” 

Steve takes the booklet, skimming over it on his own, flipping through its pages, “You know the answers to all of these questions about me?” He presses. 

“Scary, isn’t it?” Eddie grins. 

“A little bit.” Steve replies, looking through them for a stumbling block before he quizzes his fake fiance. “What am I allergic to?” 

“Latex.” Eddie declares, no doubt at all in his voice, “And displays of emotion in the workplace.”

“Haha. That’s so funny.” Steve rolls his eyes. A little miffed that he got it right.

“Uhm… Here’s a good one.” Steve folds the booklet, “Do I have any scars?” 

“No, but I’m pretty sure you have a tattoo.” Eddie adds. 

“Oh, you’re pretty sure?” Steve shoots back with a huff of laughter. 

“I’m pretty sure. Two years ago, your dermatologist called and asked about a Q-switched laser. I, of course, googled what that is and found out that they do, in fact, remove tattoos. But you canceled your appointment.” He says smugly. Steve is baffled, and he presses on. “So what is it? A tramp stamp?” 

Steve doesn’t deny it, redirecting sharply. “You know, it’s exciting for me to experience you like this.” 

“Thank you.” Eddie replies. Focused. His eyes are locked on Steve’s and holy fuck, Steve doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how long his lashes are. “You’re going to have to tell me where it is though.” 

Steve turns his head to avoid eye contact, “No. I’m not.” 

“They’re gonna ask.” Eddie answers. “Come on. I’ll tell you all about mine - the ones you can see, the ones you can’t-” Eddie teases.

“We’re done with this question. We’re done with this conversation. Onto another question. Let me see, let me see.” Steve mumbles to block him out, making him sigh in defeat and sink down into his expensive seat. 

“Oh, here’s one. Whose place do we stay at, yours or mine?” Steve inquires, turning his nose up. “That’s easy, mine.” He answers without even looking back at him. 

Eddie is sufficiently distracted at that, tone clipped as he antagonizes him, “And why wouldn’t we stay at mine?” 

“Because I live in a penthouse on Central Park West.” Steve looks at him with pursed lips before turning back to the booklet again, “And you probably live in some squalid little studio apartment with a record player to impress your dates.”

Eddie’s tone is biting, a mocking smile on his lips. “You don’t have to sound so jealous about it, sweetheart.”

Steve stares at him unblinkingly. Asks, “What color is my toothbrush?” 

“Blue.” Eddie rolls his eyes.

Steve scowls - flipping through the book, pausing as he reads a question that makes him flush. He drops the book between them like it burned him. “Okay, that’s enough of that.” Steve says.

It makes Eddie curious so he grabs the booklet and starts looking for the offending question. Prodding and teasing him. “Oooooh what was it? Which question got you flustered?”

“Eddie.” Steve protests, his tone lacking his usual dictateiveness.

“Was it sexual?” he wiggles his eyebrows. “Is the US government just itching to know how we perform the horizontal tango?” 

Steve glares. “If you’re not going to take this seriously-“

“I just assumed it would be like anything else with us.” Eddie cuts in. Steve waits for him to elaborate, and he lets out a huge breath, “We do it however the hell you tell me to.” 

Steve gawks at him, miffed. “That’s…you’re being unfair.” He settles on. 

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing, Steve.” He soothes. And then thinks, fuck it . Lays his cards on the table.

“So, this is just me thinking off the top of my head - because I definitely haven’t spent a lot of time on this. Haven’t given any prior thought to - to how you might be. How we might be together.”

Eddie clears his throat as Steve gapes at him. Words spilling out. “No sir. Never ran your errands or emptied out your inbox and wondered, if after you’ve bossed me around all day, if you wouldn’t want to hole up in your office after everyone’s gone home and let me do the bossing around...Giving me the reigns to do whatever I want to you, just so you don’t have to be the man in charge. So you wouldn’t have to think and plan for a little while. Nooooo…I definitely didn’t spend way too long entertaining that thought, only to realize that it just doesn’t sit right. Because as much as I might like to imagine it - you - good and fucked, finally fucking satisfied, you’re way too mouthy and way too content bossing everyone around to give up all of your control when you go home, when you get taken to bed. So, it would have to be something more like what I said. Where you tell me what it is you want. What it is you need . And I, your ever humble servant, would be all too eager to comply.”

Steve’s voice is measured as he replies, “You haven’t thought about it, huh?”

Eddie steals Steve’s move as he rolls his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself. We just…we spent a lot of time together.” He lies. Clears his throat. “So, do I have it right?”

Steve looks out the window - because of fucking course he has the window seat. He replies mockingly, “Yes, Eddie, once again, you have another one right.” And then, because he’s trying to kill him, Steve adds. “I keep control. I keep control and I tell my partners what it is I need. Even if what I need is to get railed like a cheap slut at the end of a long day.”

Jesus H. Christ.

It’s impossible to be smug. “I live to please.” Eddie responds, willing away the stirring in his pants at the thought.

Steve just sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “So…that’s, uh, one question answered about you, I guess.” 

Before Eddie can put his foot in his mouth - the flight attendant appears at their side, clearing her throat as she smiles and offers them snacks. 

The two men let her interruption end the conversation, Eddie popping his headphones in for the rest of the flight. Letting Metallica pour over his more loud thoughts until he gets his footing.

Chapter Text

They had reached some semblance of normalcy by the time they landed. Slipping into their roles. 

Wayne is waiting for them when they get off the plane, smiling huge when he and Eddie spot each other in the crowd, the latter immediately bolting for his uncle, leaving a bewildered Steve a few paces behind.

“Uncle Wayne,” he says happily as the old man receives him in a tight hug, and damn. It’s been too long. 

“Hey Ed,” he greets with a chuckle, pulling back to get a good look at him. Clicking his tongue. “Don’t they have food in New York? You’re all skin and bones.”

Eddie laughs. “I’m eating good Wayne, promise.” 

Wayne gives a shake of his head. “We’ll get you a Big Mac or something on the way.”

Steve, who's gotten close enough to hear now, is baffled by what he hears. In the Harrington home, Steve was often critiqued for how much he ate. Even in peak sports season - food was a means for fuel only, and carefully regulated. 

Steve carried the guilt of it around with him even now - years later, and while he indulges himself in his morning lattes, he never let it go so far as to eat fast food.

But here Wayne offered it up to Eddie unthinkingly, the offer laced with kindness.

Steve finds it hard to wrap his head around.

Noticing him standing there in silence, Wayne glances his way, and Eddie whirls around then too. “Oh!” He blurts. 

“Steve, honey, this is my uncle Wayne.” Eddie introduces.

Steve sticks a hand out to shake automatically, his smile plastered on as he tells him, “Pleasure.”

Wayne smiles back. “Well hello there…Now do you prefer to be called Steve or uh, Harbinger of Souls? I’ve heard it both ways…Actually I’ve heard it a lot of ways.” 

Steve’s eyes widen as Eddie elbows his uncle, no malice to it. “Hey, come on now.” He complains.

Even despite this, the older man’s smile doesn’t falter, and he laughs good-naturedly. “I’m kidding. Mostly. It’s good to have you, Steve. I was surprised when Eddie said you’d be coming along.” 

“Right, uh. I’m sure…Thank you for allowing me to be part of your birthday this weekend.” Steve manages.

Wayne waves his niceties off, wrapping his arms around his boy once again and ushering him along as they head to baggage claim.

Once there, Eddie rescues Steve’s things and piles them up neatly, muttering on the last bag for only him to hear, “You’re gonna wanna use your legs to lift that one,” Before turning and slapping his hands together.

“Where did you park?” He asks his uncle as he abandons Steve to his luggage.

Wayne looks miffed at seeing it, “Eddie! Help him with those!” He huffs, having thought he’d brought up a respectable gentleman.

Eddie pouts. “I’d love to, but he won’t let me do anything, uncle Wayne. He insists on doing it all by himself…So big and strong.” He sighs. 

Wayne looks at Steve, unconvinced. Steve fakes a smile at him and gets his bags in hand. 

Eddie chooses then to launch into a rapid-fire round of catching up with his uncle, telling him “Gareth and Jeff send their love, and presents, by the way.” 

Wayne looks fond, “Ah, how are they? I ran into Gareth’s mom at Melvald’s the other day - she says since he left he never calls. I didn’t have the heart to tell her I know how well he’s doing since my kid keeps in touch.” He chuckled softly, the two of them talking more while the three of them head out.

Once they reach Wayne’s truck, Steve piles his things into the truck bed as Wayne offers for Eddie to get behind the wheel.

He takes him up on it, Wayne riding shotgun and Steve sitting in the back seat of the cab, melding silently into the seats. Answering when spoken to, in a friendlier manner than Eddie expected.

So far so good.

They do hit a fast food place on the way, and when it becomes apparent that Steve is completely out of his element, Wayne insists on getting a bunch of different stuff for him to try. Refusing to let Steve pay.

The three men sit in a booth with cracked red leather, Steve sipping a milkshake and downing so many fries that he’s sure he’ll die, but Eddie is feeding them to him, being all cute and domestic and Steve would rather perish than give Eddie a reason to stop.

Finally, Wayne clears his throat to interrupt the pair of them. “So uh, I was thinking…and uh, you boys don’t have to indulge an old man in his wishes, but-” And his voice is soft and humble, and Steve’s heart goes out to him.

“What is it?” He asks, at near the same time Eddie questions, “What is it, uncle Wayne?”

Wayne scratches his head. “Well now, I know you’re only in town for the weekend, but I was just thinking…that nice hotel you booked is a bit of a ways outside of Hawkins…and I see so little of you as it is…Well, I was wondering if you two wouldn’t mind staying in your old room. So we can spend the extra time together.”

Wayne gives Steve a look - like a kicked puppy, all sweet and innocent and Steve is helpless to turn him down. He looks to Eddie and finds that the other man is already looking at him - with a very similar kicked puppy look that makes his heart thud traitorously.

Not wanting to dwell on that, he dwells instead on a decision that was presented to him.

Considering that being in Wayne’s home means being under his scrutiny, he knows that the pair of them will have to be continually convincing. Something that Eddie doesn’t seem put off by, and so he chooses not to be either.

“Well, I don’t see why not.” Steve says finally before Eddie’s wobbly lip really does finish him off.

At his words Eddie whoops, and the sound, particularly when paired with Wayne’s crinkly-eyed smile, fuels a wildly unfamiliar fuzzy feeling in Steve’s gut. Something homey.

He could get used to it.

Later, as Wayne uses the bathroom and Steve and Eddie toss their trash, meandering back to the truck, Eddie sighs. “I feel like I should warn you before we get home.”

Uh oh. “Yeah?” Steve asks him.

Eddie purses his lips. “When uncle Wayne said we would stay in my bedroom…it’s the only bedroom. We live in a single bedroom trailer. In a trailer park.”

Steve stares at Eddie - confused, baffled even, but not for the reason Eddie might think. “And…you’re telling me this…why?”

“I don’t want you to react poorly when we get there.” Eddie snaps back. And Steve feels that earlier feeling in his gut - the warmth - shrivel up and die. He clenches his jaw, back ramrod straight.

“I won’t.” He says quietly. Yanking the door to the back of the truck open and sliding in, shutting it aggressively behind him but not quite slamming it.

Eddie gets into the passenger seat and fiddles with his metal chain, Wayne hopping in the truck shortly after, oblivious to the mood between the two men as they get back on the road.

They arrive at the trailer park in the early afternoon, and Eddie’s spirits are lifted to see that everything is exactly the same, down to the ratty old couch he and Wayne used to share cigarettes on.

Steve, for his part, doesn’t bat an eye. Once they’re parked in the driveway he announces “I’ll get the bags,” going to grab them and taking too many in hand, his muscles flexing under his dress shirt that’s now got a dollop of ketchup on it. 

Eddie isn’t too proud to admit how fucking sexy it is. 

As Steve moves, Wayne heads around to the back of the trailer with a quick comment about watering his plants, but Eddie knows he’s really giving them both a moment alone to settle in. 

Once they have, their things - or rather, mostly Steve’s things - piled into his room, they take it all in.

Even with all they brought, there’s space to spare, the room still mostly bare but for the bed. All cleaned out as Eddie had left it years ago, his posters lingering that Wayne must have kept up. Clearly never having resumed ownership of the room, something that stirs Eddie’s heart a bit.

Running from the thought of anyone loving him enough to save a place for him, Eddie clears his throat, taking advantage of the fact that they’re alone for now. Tells Steve, “I owe you an apology.” 

Steve looks surprised. “What for?”

“When I assumed - about the trailer, it’s just…” he starts.

“Oh. That.” Steve waves a hand, dismissing Eddie as he often does. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it.”

Eddie’s eyebrow raises. “You do?” 

Steve nods, “Yeah. I can be pretty…”

“Pretentious? Snobby?” Eddie volunteers.

“Particular.” Steve glares.

Eddie winces. “Right.” 

“All in all, I can see why you said what you said. And now that the heat of the moment has passed, I’m not upset.” He swears.

“You’re not?” Eddie confirms.

Steve nods again, hums softly. “The trailer is fine. Really. And I mean, I’m not thrilled about the cancellation fee for the hotel-” he quips, but Eddie shakes his head in answer.

“Don’t worry about that. I canceled in plenty of time.” He promises.

Steve is confused at that, “You- but you only knew we would be staying with your uncle today.” 

Eddie just smiled sheepishly, and understanding washed over Steve. “No you didn’t.” He says.

Eddie shrugs. “No, I didn’t.”

“How long-“ Steve starts.

“Wayne asked me about it before we left. But I knew you’d be all whiny about it if I asked you, so, I asked him to whip out some of the old ‘Munson-charm.’” Eddie chuckles. “I knew even you couldn’t say no to him. He’s like, stupidly endearing. Old bastard.”

Eddie sounds so fond, Steve can’t even find it in him to be mad. Or to correct him on how it was his puppy dog eyes that he’d found stupidly endearing. Even so. “That’s a rotten trick.”

Eddie gave a mocking curtsy. “I know that you are used to finer comforts, my lord, but I pray that my humble abode might please thee, until we might return to your luxurious castle.” 

Steve is unamused, glancing around with a neutral expression. Changing the subject. “How long has it been…since you’ve been home?” He asks.

“Too long.” Eddie sighs.

He’s taking that in. Examining his surroundings. Eddie tries to soothe his worry, tells himself that this is fine, definitely not comparing himself to a bug beneath a magnifying glass, no sir…

Steve moves closer to the wall then, taking in the handmade Corroded Coffin banner proudly displayed. “This is your band. The one from the demo. You’ve been together this long?”

“Since high school. In some form or another.” He kicks his shoes off then, getting comfortable, slides them into the closet where a few hangers linger, and his old acoustic. 

“Oh!” He pulls it out, the body adorned with ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’ in a crooked scrawl. “Forgot about this.” 

He sits on the bed with it, tuning it to give himself something to do with his hands as his boss turns and leans against the wall of the bedroom he occupied in adolescence, arms crossed, scrutinizing him.

“This is good.” Eddie rambles at his piercing gaze, taking his guitar pick off his necklace to use. “That’s something you should know. You should ask me more stuff like that.”

When Eddie plays a chord, the sound that emerges is pure and clear and perfectly in tune. Walking his fingers up the fretboard, he picks out a bare-bones acoustic take on the intro to "Number of the Beast."

Steve stares at his hands. “Okay. So, why music?"

It's such an oblique question that Eddie has to give up on Iron Maiden for a full 30 seconds as he tries to figure out what he  means. "Everyone likes music."

"Not everyone likes it the way you do." He cocks his head thoughtfully. "But I’ll rephrase. Why this music?"

Eddie laughs a little, strums some more. "Because it's badass," 

"Sure.” Steve dismisses, once the sound has died away. "But that's not the only reason, right?"

Eddie glances up at him, inquisitive. 

He huffs a sigh. "Help me out here, Eddie. If I'm gonna sell this package, I need you to give me something to work with. Something real."

Ah. Leave it to Steve to be all business. Even now.

Fine.

Eddie could give him real. So he thinks…Why music? Why this music? He flips his pick around in his fingers as he tries to put his thoughts in some kind of order.

He'd never thought hard about it before Steve asked him. For 26 years of his life, music has just kind of... been. Like eating, breathing, taking a piss...music. Listening to it, playing it, talking about it. Grinding away for a chance to get it out there someday…It's a fact of life. But why?

"My mom." He murmurs. He’s not actually sure he means to say it. It just kind of comes out. He presses on anyway. "My dad was the one who taught me how to play guitar, but my mom, uh." He clears his throat. "She was living in Memphis when she met my dad. She'd grown up there, 19 years surrounded by music, everywhere she went. Country, bluegrass, rock...but her favorite was blues. Like, Chicago blues, the hard kind that gets into your bones, you know?"

Steve had relaxed a bit as he answered. "Yeah."

"So - when she left, when she moved up to Indiana, she took the music with her. It's like a nine-hour drive from Memphis to Hawkins, and she and my dad spent all of that time squeezed into a tiny car with 20 boxes of records. And then when I was born, she started sharing those records with me." 

He’s still plucking out a tune, but it's not Iron Maiden anymore. It's a Muddy Waters riff, and as it fills the small space, Eddie can hear the static from his Mom's record player buzzing underneath, as familiar and comfortable as an old sweater. 

His voice turns bitter as he recalls not having those records to listen to anymore. “She called them her plane tickets. Even when she was stuck in Hawkins," Waiting on her husband to come home from some dumbass scheme, Eddie thinks. "That music told stories. It helped her see the world."

He looks at the roof, water stained, and much safer than the man here with him.

"I didn't get it when I was a kid," he goes on. "All I heard on those records were people singing about sadness, about how shitty life was. And then, uh. She got sick and died. When I was like 6. I got it then." 

Eddie pauses. Typically there's a chorus of sympathetic crooning following that reveal, one that sets his teeth on edge. But Steve is still and silent, watching him. Listening.

So Eddie gives him something to listen to. The guitar line for Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" trips off his fingers, half blues and half metal, and it might be his imagination, but Eddie thinks he can see the ghost of approval, of a smile, on the corners of Steve’s mouth.

"I like this music because it's about sadness and how shitty life is. And things are sad, life is shitty. It's real. But also, it tells stories. This music takes you on an adventure, to another world where you're, like, facing down demons. Traveling into the depths of hell. My mom's music was plane tickets. I guess that makes my music a portal to another dimension." 

"You like it because it's badass," Steve fills in the blanks.

"I like it because it's really fucking badass." He finishes the riff and lets his hand fall away. "Is that real enough for you?"

Steve isn’t smiling, not really, but there’s a glow in his eyes, radiance that has nothing to do with the light. He says, “I think I can work with that.”

Wayne opens the front door more loudly than he needs to then, and a few beats later he’s standing in the doorway to Eddie’s old room, his expression soft. 

“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.” He says, seeing Eddie, in his room, with his guitar.

Eddie plays him an exaggerated song with full body movement, that Steve quickly makes out to be ‘Hot Cross Buns.’ 

Wayne laughs. “Feel free to get settled in kids, the party’s not for a few hours.”

Eddie and Steve offer him passable enthusiasm, and then Wayne is retreating to the living room. Eddie sets the guitar to the side. “You can hang in here if you want, we’ll probably just kick it on the couch. Watch some TV or something. I can tell him your jet lagged.” 

“From a less than 3 hour flight?” Steve snorts. “No, but, thank you.” It sounds genuine.

Steve strides out of the room, beating Eddie to the couch, and taking a seat on it. At seeing where he’d chosen to sit, Eddie groans and Wayne winces.

Steve blinks in surprise. “What’d I do?” He asks.

Wayne’s expression becomes playful, “That there’s Ed’s seat.” 

Steve raises an eyebrow, looking at Eddie with an almost smile, but not quite. Just enough to take the bite out of his words when he tells him, “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s optimal seating, Stevie.” Eddie whines. At his graveness, Steve moves to adjust himself, really wiggling into the cushion. “Huh. Now that you mention it, I see what you mean. Great choice on my part, really.”

Eddie gawks at him, spluttering. “You’re - you’re still sitting there?”

“So I am.” Steve is cocky. So cocky. Eddie loves to hate it.

“You’re not moving.” Eddie clarifies. Wayne is looking between the two of them with amusement.

A shake of Steve’s head. Eddie gives a faux gasp. “Not even for the love of your life ?” He squawks.

Steve just raises an eyebrow, looking around. “Is the love of my life in the room with us?” 

“Sacrilege!” Eddie shouts, before launching himself onto the couch beside Steve, gracelessly trying to manhandle the younger man out of his seat.

Steve is stronger than he looks though, and within minutes what should have ended with Eddie depositing him on the floor, makes way instead for Steve to maintain his ground, his powerful thighs locked around Eddie’s waist, keeping him from getting Steve off of the couch without taking himself out too.

Wayne is laughing nearly hysterically at watching them both wrestle, Steve spitting Eddie’s hair out of his mouth while Eddie wishes a plague on Steve and all his houses, tickling his sides, Steve fucking licking his neck to get him to stop .

And even then, it’s only when both men are on the floor, pushing and shoving to reclaim the lost territory, that Eddie knows he’s beaten.

Steve, powerhouse that he is, is fucking laughing . Actually truly laughing. 

And damn it if Eddie doesn’t fall flat on his face, catching his breath yes but also - just fucking taking that fact in for a second.

“Victory!” Steve shouts as he sits once again in Eddie’s seat.

Eddie pops up, resting his head on his elbows, nearly panting like a dog. “You have bested me. I concede.” 

Steve laughs again, face flushed and his once perfect hair all in disarray, and Eddie wonders if this is what he looks like after - Okay, nope. Nope. Between the wrestling and the neck licking - Eddie needs to think of gross, unsexy things, immediately. Lest he become visibly riled up in front of his surrogate father and his fake fiancé.

In that spirit, Eddie claims another part of the couch, groaning and oh yeah he’s in terrible shape.

Wayne chortles and flips through channels on the TV now that the commotion has died down, settling on an NBA game when Steve’s interest is piqued. “Oh, basketball, nice.”

“You’ like sports?” Wayne is surprised. Eddie is decidedly…not a sports guy.

Steve has the decency to look bashful. “I’m not like a super-fan or anything. We moved to the States when I was in high school and I got recruited for the basketball team. Coach would play us tapes. I only know the teams I like.”

“Who’s your favorite?” Wayne asks him.

“Probably the Knicks.” Steve answers.

“Get out of my house.” Wayne is not at all serious. 

Steve laughs again. “Is that the wrong answer?”

“This here, is a Pacer’s family, kid. Ed, what are you doing? You dating your boss who’s run you ragged the last few years I can excuse - but I can’t tolerate a man who likes the Knicks .” He holds his hand to his heart.

Steve is starting to see where Eddie gets his…dramatic flair. He can’t wipe the smile from his face.

Eddie sighs, just as playful. “Well it’s a bit too late to kick him to the curb now, uncle Wayne.”

At that Steve glances at Eddie. Tries to communicate with his eyes. Is he going to…?

“Why?” Wayne chuckles. “You get’ him pregnant?”

Steve flushes. Eddie laughs. “Nah, nothing like that. But uh…we are getting married.”

Wayne freezes. Steve doesn’t miss it - for a solid few seconds the man has gone stiff, unmoving. Not even a dropped jaw or raised eyebrow. Totally and completely offline.

Steve can’t breathe. He vaguely feels Eddie take his hand. Squeeze. He inhales.

And then…Wayne smiles. Nice and slow, and fucking big. His eyes are twinkling. “Really?” He asks.

Eddie nods. “Really.”

Wayne jumps to his feet, smacking his knee. “Hah!” He’s absolutely fucking giddy . “Well how about that! We have double reasons to celebrate tonight it seems! My boy’s getting married !”

He wraps them both in a hug, and Steve is still fucking, just - paralyzed. No longer in fear, but something entirely different. Something that wants to creep up from behind his eyelids, wrapping its way around his throat.

Wayne pulls back from them, and he sniffles. Wayne clocks it immediately, “You alright there, son?”

Son .

“My uh,” he wheezes out. “My parents, they never…they wouldn’t have…I’m sorry.” He tilts his head back, unblinking and pinching his thigh, until he gets himself under control.

Then he smiles at Wayne with watery eyes, having missed the look the older man had given his nephew. “Sorry.” Steve laughs shakily.

Wayne hugs him again. “Don’t you worry about it, Steve. We aren’t worried about displays of emotion in this house. You should have heard Ed wailing when they freed Willy.”

A laugh bursts out of Steve, and Eddie gives Wayne a look of complete and utter betrayal, whining. “ Wayne… ” 

To which his uncle merely offers him a shit-eating grin, Steve halfheartedly defending, “That scene got me as a kid too.”

“He was 19.” Wayne clarifies.

“ Wayne !” Eddie is full on shouting now. “Oh my god stop talking or I swear when you get old I’m putting you in a home!” 

Offended, Wayne barks back. “My new son-in-law Steve would never let that happen!” Shaking his head, he mutters in Steve’s general direction. “Unbelievable. Threatening to commit me, and on my birthday no less. Where is the respect?”

Eddie groans, but he apologizes, he and Wayne bickering quite happily, all while Steve’s gut feeling grows into an even more confusing tangle. Thinking to himself that it was certainly going to be an interesting weekend here in Indiana.

Later that night, as the trio arrives at a VFW that had been rented out by some of the gentlemen at the plant Wayne works for, Steve is mildly surprised to see the parking lot packed with cars.

Eddie glances at Steve’s expression with a little chuckle. “Small town.” He explains. “Everyone knows everyone.”

Add to that the fact that his uncle was also very well loved, and it makes for quite an uproarious slew of greetings when the three of them enter, the fake couple quickly losing Wayne to a swarm of hugs and well wishes.

By the time he’s passed back around, he’s got lipstick marks on both cheeks, in varying shades, and Eddie laughs and shoves at him playfully. “You dog!”

He rolls his eyes, “Come with me boys, there’s some people who want to say hi.”

Wayne leads them over to a table where Steve witnesses a gaggle of no less than half a dozen teenagers gathered. Most of them make no effort to hide how they lose their collective minds when they see Eddie.

The tallest of them, a teen with long black hair, is the most aggressive in his attempts to get to him, nearly elbowing a curly haired kid with a row of endearingly imperfect teeth, who complains extra hard at that because of something that he calls his cleidocranial dysplasia . 

Whatever that means, it gains him the  lead of the queue, the others groaning at his words and holding their hands up, letting him pass. 

Behind them, a wide eyed girl looks on in amusement while her two companions - a redhead toying with a skateboard that probably shouldn’t be on the table, and another girl wearing an American flag like a cape, appear uninterested.

Eddie hugs the curly haired kid enthusiastically, greeting, “Henderson! You haven’t changed man.”

He scoffs. “Of course I haven’t, you specifically , asked me not to.” Eddie laughs at whatever that calls to mind, patting him on the back, and Steve decides that he likes this kid.

Eddie takes a half a step back then, and the kid squawks at Eddie’s shirt as he ignores it in favor of beckoning Steve closer. “Children, gather.” Never mind that they’re already encroaching on the men’s space as it is. 

Eddie addresses Steve, “Allow me to introduce you to my…flock of little lost sheep.” He snickers, pointing as he introduces them. “This is Dustin, Mike, Will, Lucas - the one who looks innocent but could probably crush your head through sheer force of will is Will’s twin sister Jane - that’s Max next to her, and then there’s my undisputed favorite, Lucas’s sister, Erica.” 

The kids all groan at his declaration, all apart from Erica who smirks in a familiar, bitchy way at them. And Steve likes her too. A fine choice in favorite, he thinks.

“Kids, this is Steve.” Eddie introduces.

“Steve.” Max repeats his name with a raised eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“Steve.” Eddie parrots as he nods, while Wayne adds proudly from behind them, “Eddie’s fiancé.”

The kids all stifle in shock - Mike blurting, “Wait. Evil-boss-Steve? Evil-boss-Steve is his fiancé?” 

Steve wants to groan. His reputation precedes him.

“Hah!” Dustin, who is also the ‘Henderson’ kid, laughs. “Boom!” The exclamation echoes as he points at his friends. “Bada…bada…boom. I told you he had a crush on him. You guys totally owe me $20.”

“No one made that bet with you, man.” Lucas rolls his eyes.

“I’m happy for you, Eddie,” Jane smiles before looking hopefully at Steve. “Does this make you our new mom?”

Steve has to laugh, bewildered and also pleased to see Eddie flustered by not only Henderson selling him out - but by the question as well.

“Oh he’s such a mom.” Erica supplies. “Look at him. He has the hips for it.” 

Steve’s laughter becomes a knowing smirk. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Erica.” 

She smiles - more of a show of teeth than anything. And Eddie has to skip over that interaction while the kids hit him with a million questions a minute. He waves them off. “Another time, kids. I’d much rather hear what you all have been up to.”

That starts another round of talking over each other, and Wayne gently grabs Steve by his elbow in order to lead him away from the commotion.

“Best give them a minute.” He chuckles. Steve tries to decide if he can ask - if he should know-

“Ed didn't mention his old club, huh?” Wayne asks him. He doesn’t sound surprised. Steve is mildly relieved, shaking his head.

Wayne sounds fond, “Yeah, used to run it in high school. They’d spend hours wrapped up in that tabletop roleplaying game - Dungeons and Dragons? Ed was the leader. The kids were devastated when he finally graduated and moved away. He left Dustin in charge, but it's not the same, you know? They missed him.”

Steve glances back - sees them animatedly talking and laughing with Eddie, and his heart . Oh his poor heart. 

He would never admit it but…He’d always wanted six kids. Six little nuggets and a Winnebago to house them all and drive across the country, all crammed together,  making memories…And here Eddie had fucking…seven children, who clearly adored him, calling Steve mom. It messed him up a little bit.

“Bob! Joyce!” Wayne calls, snapping him out of it. “Meet Steve, he’s Eddie’s fiancé.” Steve kinda likes how Wayne keeps saying it - proud, but factual. Like ‘he’s Eddie’s fiancé’ is his last name now.

He embraces it - out to charm the room. Working his way through it with Wayne, the whole place positively buzzed at the engagement news.

Besides the children, it seems that no one else was aware of his prior relationship with Eddie, and Steve is met with open arms and drinks bought for him just as readily as they do Wayne, who, unlike Steve, never declines, having the time of his life.

By the time Steve leaves him in a chair with a cup of water and makes it back to Eddie, he’s a little flushed at the effort he exerted to get Wayne settled there. That, and at all the well wishes being freely and genuinely offered. Those actually had left him feeling pretty good. 

Eddie looks amused by it. “Having a good time?” He asks.

“Hawkins loves me, what can I say?” Steve shrugs in reply. 

Eddie grins at him, voice spilling out sweetly as he says. “As do I.”

Steve does a double-take before he realizes that there’s an older woman lingering at a desert table within earshot, and replies automatically. “Love you too.”

That makes Eddie roll his eyes, where no one can see, moving in and leading Steve away from the woman with a hand on his lower back. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that, sweetheart.” He purrs in his ear.

Steve is…affected. He clears his throat, asking. “And what would you have me do?”

Eddie has led them through the entranceway to a small hallway that clearly leads to the bathrooms, where they stop, Eddie leaning against the wall.

He’s looking at Steve, who can’t get a read on him, until he suddenly hits him with, “You should kiss me.”

“What?” Steve gapes at him.

Chapter Text

Eddie chuckles as he taunts. “Yeah. Come on. Plant one on me. We’ll have to do it sooner or later. Might as well get the first one out of the way.”

He’s smiling. Challenging Steve, who hates that it’s working. Hates that even if it wasn’t, well…He would have kissed him anyway. All stupidly pretty and good with fucking kids. Of course he’d kiss him. Steve’s not made of willpower. He’s only a man.

“Fine.” He says simply.

“Fine?” Eddie repeats skeptically. 

Steve rolls his eyes. “If you’d like me to change my mind, then by all means keep talking.”

Eddie rolls his eyes right back, bigger, and more exaggerated, “I love it when you antagonize me.”

Steve starts to push off the wall, to leave, bitchy comment poised on his lips but then Eddie is pulling him back in, surprisingly strong and firm and presses him back into the wall and… oh .

He’s got those sinful brown eyes locked on Steve’s, looking at him like he wants to absolutely devour him, and fuck, he smells really fucking good this close. Feels really fucking good all crowded in on Steve like this. 

Eddie smiles again, his head tilted to the side, like he knows it, and Steve wants to wipe that cocky look off his face. Or at least he does until Eddie closes the gap. 

Then suddenly he’s being rightly kissed, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Eddie’s lips claim his, soft and inviting and insistent, and Steve’s just, completely disarmed.

Eddie kisses him senselessly - like he needs Steve more than he needs air. 

Steve’s lost in it, his eager hands buried in Eddie’s long hair while Eddie is licking into his mouth in a way that makes him keen into his throat - would surely have his knees giving out if Eddie wasn’t so solidly pinning him against the wall. 

And fuck, why did he have to be a fantastic kisser, on top of everything?

The two men are both totally lost in it, fully making out in some back corner while Eddie’s uncle’s 65th birthday happens around them, all of it just background noise. 

They don’t even notice the women’s bathroom door opening until they’re getting berated by a disgusted noise from behind them. 

It becomes immediately apparent that the sound had nothing to do with the sight of two men kissing - of that they were sure - but based on who it came from, it seems that it had everything to do with which two men were kissing.

“Um! There are children present!” Erica snaps at them, unashamedly, as the youngest person at the party. 

Steve coughs and shoves Eddie away - a fact that might have offended him if his mortified boss didn’t have a massive blush staining his cheeks.

Eddie starts laughing, full bellied, nearly a cackle. “Sorry Lady Applejack!”

She glares at him and walks away. Steve is gaping behind her. “You planned that.”

Eddie nods. “Yeah. When she’s perturbed, she complains loudly . That’ll make a nice juicy little tidbit people remember about tonight.”

Steve swallows - tries not to feel used. Because he hasn’t been! He hasn’t. Eddie is just doing the smart thing. Playing along. He’s doing what Steve fucking asked, no, required of him to do.

He’s a good assistant. Nothing more. That’s what was real here. It’s a bitter, much needed reminder.

Steve shoves Eddie off of him, slipping back into the roll of pretentious , snobby - “Shall we go , then?” He snaps, fixing his hair.

Eddie boomerangs back from the shove like it was nothing. And Steve hates thinking that it was him who contributed to his being so good at fucking, just, taking shots. Rolling with the punches. 

He even teases Steve, with an obnoxious little wink. “Sure thing baby cakes.” 

Steve turns his nose up at him. “No.”

“Pookie?” He tries again. No dice.

“Italian Stallion?” Eddie’s fully fucking grinning now.

“You are fired.” Steve says, in the same deadpan tone that Eddie’s uncle had used earlier when he’d oust Steve from his home (jokingly) for being a Knicks fan.

Eddie recognizes it immediately. “Oh no! Has he rubbed off on you or am I marrying my father? This is terrible. Awful. What have I done?”

Steve can’t help but crack a smile.

Eddie leans in then - no one around - and smacks a loud kiss onto his cheek. Then he pats it - a little too rough if Steve was being honest - and ghosts his way back into the crowd of partygoers.

Steve can vaguely hear him shouting “Oh my god Erica, what happens between two consenting adults in the VFW hallway is sacred-“

And Steve goes into the bathroom and splashes water on his face. Telling himself to get a grip.

Once he does so, vehemently denying invitations to dance the electric slide, he sits down at a table where Eddie beckons him over, a plate of food ready for him. They eat side by side in silence, lost in thought, jovially greeting whoever speaks to them in passing and tolerating each other’s company until they're fully interrupted by someone. 

At the sound of Eddie’s name, both men turn their heads - Steve watching helplessly as they are approached by the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his life. 

Steve takes her all in - the blue eyeshadow dusted across her lids in a similar shade as her knee length dress, a dress patterned like one of those fancy china plates. Other than this and the shiny pink of her lips, she has no other makeup in sight. What she does have, is honest-to-god ribbons in her strawberry blonde hair that pull it into a high ponytail, one that swishes to and fro as she fusses over Eddie. 

Eddie, who had secured Steve’s trepidation when he had lit up at the sight of her, and jumped to his feet. “Chrissy? Oh my god.” He had hugged her, gushing. “How are you doing? I didn’t know you were going to be here.”

Her smile is radiant. Devastating. She replies, “Wayne wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Wow.” Eddie melts with a satisfied chuckle, his eyes soft. It’s Chrissy who breaks their eye contact, glancing over to Steve with an apologetic smile.

“Oh! We’re being so rude, hi!” She gives a little wave and Steve clocks her perfect manicure.

Eddie scrambles to explain, “Oh god uh, Steve, this is my ex.” 

“I’m Chrissy.” She adds. 

Steve blinks, still reeling from that little reveal - taking her offered hand and shaking it as a reflex, before supplying his own name. “It’s nice to meet you.” he mutters.

Chrissy returns the sentiment before looking excitedly between them. “You too! And congratulations on your engagement, it’s so sweet!” Chrissy adds before nudging Eddie, the both of them a stark contrast when side by side.

 A cute one, sadly enough. “So…Did I miss the story?” She presses her former boyfriend.

“Story?” Eddie repeats, earning an eager nod from her that makes her hair bounce more. 

“The story of the proposal, silly.” She clarifies.

Eddie and Steve bristle, the former launching quickly into a dismissive, “Oh! Uh, no. We hadn’t uh, gotten to the story…yet.”

“Well…we want to hear it!” She insists, having slipped into the plural as more party guests start to hone in on the conversation.

Even Wayne is rounding back, sweat on his brow from dancing, quite enthusiastically. “Yes! Tell us the story.” 

The fake couple pauses. Cursing themselves for not discussing this sooner. Glancing at each other, Steve laughs off his nerves. “Well um…Actually, Eddie loves telling this story.”

Eddie just barely manages not to level a glare at him. “Oh I sure do.” He chuckles. “And I’ve had uh, so few opportunities until now…I hope I tell it right.” He clears his throat. He could do this. He was a storyteller. 

Fiddling with his rings, he plastered a smile on his face. “Well, Steve and I, we were about to celebrate our anniversary…and I knew he wanted to ask me. He was very obvious. Not subtle, at all.” 

Steve gives him the briefest flash of a ‘watch-it,’ look and Eddie evens out his steering. “So, I, you know I-started leaving him little hints here and there. And the man just…ran with it.” Eddie is talking out of his ass.

“I go to his apartment-” no one’s impressed at that and Eddie scrambles to correct it, “Real fancy place and - sentimental, because that’s where we had our first kiss. Listening to music after work - on Steve’s record player.” Eddie throws that in there for fun. A nice payback for Steve’s comment on the flight out here.

Steve grimaces. Eddie smiles. “Just - yeah.” He’s giving too many details, and makes himself get on with it. “Anyways, so I show up to his apartment. All the lights are out. And I’m thinking - great, this is how I die - everyone told me, ‘Eddie, if you move to New York, you’re going to be murdered’ -” the whole of those watching laugh up a storm at that. 

Eddie doesn’t hear it. Steve has fixed his reservations and is smiling at him. “But obviously, that’s not what happened. There was some light - um, well, it was candles. Flickering further in the apartment, so I keep going. I’m literally walking on flower petals-“ Mike’s mom Karen swoons, and Dustin’s mom Claudia pinches Steve’s cheeks, commending him for a job well done. He’s clearly flustered by the older women, and Eddie thinks that it’s So. Fucking. Cute.

“And I get to where Steve - he has this big winding staircase in his foyer. And he’s got it all done up. Flowers wrapped around it. And he’s there, at the foot, flowers and candles, on one knee. And he asked me to marry him, and I said yes. Now here we are.” Eddie chuckles nervously. 

The audience breaks out in soft coos, having been captivated by Eddie, congratulations pouring out as they tell the men they are both so lucky.

Eddie hides his face behind a piece of his hair. The crowd starts to dissipate, and to Steve’s chagrin, Chrissy is Still. Fucking. There.

“When’s the wedding?” She asks Eddie with that same perfect smile. Gag.

“This June.” Eddie replies. That answer  comes easier. They’d already decided - or rather, it had been decided for them, seeing as they had ninety days from filing to legally bind themselves in holy matrimony.

“Wow! So soon.” Chrissy sounds surprised. 

“We just can’t wait to be married.” Steve fakes a smile of his own as he says it. 

And it didn’t hurt that Steve was being deported. Eddie thinks to himself dryly.

Chrissy wishes them well. “I’m happy for you.” She tells Eddie. “You deserve it.”

Glancing over his shoulder, she waves at someone she recognizes. “I’ll catch up with you before you leave, ‘kay?” She asks.

Steve wants to throttle her…just a bit. ‘Kay.’ She says. ‘Kay.’

Eddie smiles back. “Sounds good.”

Steve smiles politely when she waves at him too, having already decided to run interference on that.

As step one, he gets Eddie to turn his attention back to him, only placated when it’s undivided and adoring.

Nevermind how much of that is a show, they go back to the party without a hitch.

As step two, when Chrissy does come around again, Eddie is occupied by Steve’s hand on Eddie’s thigh, while he whispers in his ear, the man is too flustered to properly acknowledge her but for a brief goodbye before they leave town.

And Steve smiles to himself at the knowledge, the small victory. That wasn’t something that could be faked.

He’s still got it.

“So, Chrissy?” Steve asks quietly in the front seat of the truck, Wayne dozing in the back. “You guys were pretty serious huh?”

“Well I mean we dated in high school, but we were kids.” Eddie dismisses as he drives them down a winding country road.

“And you guys called it off because of…?” Steve prompts.

“Well when I finally graduated, I proposed and said that I wanted to elope and run away with her.” Eddie answers.

“And she said no.” Steve guesses.

Eddie nods. “And she said no. For which I’m grateful. She…She wanted to stay in Hawkins. It’s home for her, in a way it had never been for me. So when I did run away, I set up shop for the rest of the band who wanted to, to come and join me there, and I never looked back…Now here we are.”

“Here we are.” Steve agrees. Wayne mutters something behind them, but at a glance, he’s still very much asleep.

Eddie confirms and then glances over to Steve, smirking a little. “You’re not jealous are you?” 

Steve isn’t sure if it’s real or not. So he shakes his head. “No just…just thinking. About how different things would be if she had accepted your proposal. If the last person I proposed to had accepted mine.”

Oh.

Eddie keeps his eyes on the road. “You’re talking about Nancy.”

Eddie had known Nancy, sort of, in the way only an assistant needed to know Nancy. Known what flowers to buy, where she liked to shop, what she liked to eat. 

Had spoken with her and made plans with her…And she was…alright. Truly.

But…with Nancy, Steve had been kind and considerate in ways that made Eddie just…burn. 

And then she’d broken Steve’s heart, and the fallout from it…made him almost unbearable. Almost. 

And it soured Eddie towards her forever.

“Do you still think about Chrissy?” Steve replied instead of answering. 

Eddie frowns. “Not often. And no more than to hope she’s doing well here. Where she’ll probably still be when we come back for Wayne’s 70th.”

“We?” Steve repeats, looking at Eddie.

Eddie realizes he messed up. Got too…into the role. He makes a show of looking pointedly at Wayne, to cover his transgression.

“Yeah. We.” Gives Steve a teasing grin. “You’ll be around for that one too, won’t you?” He presses.

Steve’s eyes dim. He understands. “Of course.” He answers, voice soft.

They drive in silence the rest of the way home, helping Wayne out of the truck when they get there. He’d leaned heavily on both of them as he’d roused from sleep, still understandably tipsy and giggling as they entered the trailer.

From there Steve had supported his weight solo while Eddie pulled out his bed, both of them tucking him in and then retreating to get ready for bed themselves.

Tonight had been…better than either of them had honestly expected. The ruse was maintained, Wayne was happy.

But now that it’s over, they have their next challenge to face as fake fiancé’s - sharing a bed, for real .

And while, when they’d gotten back to the room, Steve had quickly banished Eddie to the bathroom to change - he’d just as quickly realized that he didn’t have anything with him that would be remotely comfortable enough to sleep in.

Eddie’s back before he’s made a decision, telling him in a misunderstanding that the bathroom is free now if he still needs to change, climbing into bed.

Steve just sighs, before ordering Eddie to look away. Stripping his clothes off.

And of course Eddie had peeked, come on.

“All those damn bags and you didn’t bring proper pajamas?” Eddie snickers as Steve hides in his boxers under his own set of covers on their shared bed. 

Not at all surprised at his defiance after he’d deliberately told Eddie not to look. “I sleep naked.” He explained. “Usually not a problem when you’re in a hotel room, alone .”

“What?” Eddie guffaws. “Is that like a European thing, or-”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

Eddie bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling as his body shakes with laughter as a defense mechanism from seeing his boss so vulnerable. So tan. So tempting. His fucking hair chest and moles that Eddie just wants to map out with his tongue.

He squeezes his eyes shut.

Tries to will sleep to come as the two of them laid here, close enough to feel each other’s warmth, minds occupied by different things.

And it does come, eventually. Sleep finds them both until, In the dead of night, unconscious, they drift into each other.

Tangled together, they’re only awoken by the sound of Steve’s phone ringing, Eddie immediately groaning at how early it is.

His raspy morning voice jolts Steve into action, fumbling out of his arms to grab his cell off of the night stand, tumbling out of bed with it. 

He swipes to answer, groggily saying a “Hello?” While Eddie groans. 

“Steve. No. Too early.” He whines. “Take it outside.”

Steve glares, resuming his conversation with a clipped, “No - I - sorry, I’m trying not to wake my fiancé.” As he tears one of the blankets off the bed, he wraps it around himself like a toga, tiptoeing past Wayne, still sleeping in the living room. 

When he gets outside, still in his underwear, the blanket wrapped around him, he talks business for so long that Wayne stumbles out for his morning smoke.

At which point Steve brings the call to an end, sheepishly making more of an effort to cover himself. Wayne just chuckles. “That’s quite a look.”

“I was banished.” He jokingly admits, wondering idly if now that they are alone - rightly alone - if something about Wayne’s acceptance of him will change. 

But Wayne just chuckles and drops down onto the couch outside the trailer, seemingly uncaring at the wetness of it from the morning dew as he lights a cigarette.

Steve waits, watching Wayne, who seems content with the birds chirping and the silence, before he slinks back into the trailer, muttering about getting dressed.

Eddie rolls over as he comes in, still in his bed, blinking wearily at him as he enters. 

“Go back to sleep.” Steve says gruffly. Clasping the blankets for some sense of modesty, he starts digging through his smallest suitcase.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks groggily, rubbing at his eyes.

Steve shrugs, pulling out the familiar moisture-wicking fabric that he’d 100% opted out of sleeping in. “I was going to go for a run. I do it every morning.”

“Every morning?” Eddie gasps, like Steve had just said that he had bodies under the break room floor. (That might have been easier to swallow, honestly.)

Steve looks like he’s trying not to smile. “Yes. Every morning.”

Eddie groans loudly. “Okay, give me a minute, I’ll go with you.”

Steve looks surprised. “Go with me?” he repeats.

Eddie nods, dragging himself out of bed. “Yeah…I uh, I might slow you down but…honestly I’ve been meaning to exercise for…the last several years, so...”

Steve can’t wait to see this, brow arched. “Whatever you want, man.”

So Eddie gets dressed and joins Steve. It goes about as well as expected.

“This is the end! I can see the light! Tell Wayne I love him!” He groans as Steve literally runs laps around him on their way home.

They’d cut their run short and even so - Eddie is barely hanging on. Steve is…surprisingly understanding. “I should have talked you out of this.”

Eddie makes a sound like a dying animal, using the last reserve of his energy to walk the steps up into the trailer, collapsing onto the couch while Wayne eats a bowl of cereal innocently, eyeing him up and down.

He catches his breath. Wayne looks to Steve, “He good?”

“Despite what he tells you, he will live.” Steve replies. Eddie splutters, and then lets it be. Fighting the reaper.

Wayne walks over then, and nudges him with his Garfield-sock clad feet. “Dustin called while you were out. Said something about you were supposed to run a one-shot. Sounded important.”

Eddie nods, his voice strained, “Not…overly important.” He thinks of the kid’s disappointment. “I’ll call him back. I’d told him I would cook something up, but that was before Steve and I decided to get engaged and spring him on everyone.” He chuckles weakly.

Steve may not understand what they’re talking about - but he gets the distinct feeling that he’s to blame. So he protests, and Wayne offers to keep him company so Eddie can do this, ‘one-shot.’ 

“It’ll be fun. We’ll hit the town.” The older man grins at his nephew, who looks at Steve in a brief moment of panic. Steve smiled reassuringly. They’ve already pushed their luck. Why not hammer the nail down a little more.

“If you’re sure…” Eddie hedges, and Steve isn’t sure who he’s saying it to. 

But Wayne is excited. “Great! Give the kid a call - Steve, you’ll wanna get changed. We’re gonna go see some sights.”

‘Sights’ as it turned out, was not much of anything. After dropping Eddie off at a cute little house in the suburbs, Wayne takes Steve to a pool hall where they play a few rounds. 

The dad talk comes then.

“You know,” Wayne starts as he lines up his next shot. “I had my worries when Ed finally told me about you two…” 

Steve felt bad for having sprung this all on Wayne. Would have, even if it weren’t absolutely necessary…making a relationship that never was...

“Worries and doubts. Not sure if that ever came across…” Wayne chuckles, smacking the last of the balls into the pocket of the table as Steve shakes his head. “But after I saw you together, it just…it makes sense. He’s happier now I think, than he’s ever been.”

Steve tries not to look guilty. “I don’t know if you can give me all the credit.” He protests, “He’s probably just as happy to be home, now, too.” 

Current ruse not included, Steve doesn’t think Eddie’s taken a proper day off since he was hired. It had to be somewhat better being here than running around in the city with the 8+ hours of bullshit Steve fills his days with.

“It’s more than that.” Wayne gives a little head shake. “He’s…content. Thanks to you.”

Resigned to his fate, maybe. Steve thinks. Tries for a smile as they rack up the balls once again. 

Wayne snorts then, lost in his own thoughts. “Never thought I’d live to see him give up that spot on the damn couch…or exercising! And in the morning of all times. He hates both of those things.” Wayne chuckles, “But…he loves you , Steve.”

Steve coughs. Keeps his words honest, so they don’t give him away. “I’m grateful to him. He’s a better man than I deserve.”

Wayne hits him with another gut-punch of a sentence, telling him, “I take comfort in knowing that you’ll always be there to take care of him now.” Slaps Steve on the back like they’re pals - like Steve isn’t ruining his surrogate son’s life. 

Steve plays a shitty game for the rest of the time they’re there.

When Wayne’s had enough of beating him at pool, they sit at the bar counter in the place and have sandwiches.

Then since they have more time to kill, they meander over to the local video store - which baffles Steve because, weren’t they extinct?

Apparently not.

He feels nostalgic as he peruses through the aisles, making a game with Wayne of trying to guess what people are renting, coming up with wilder and wilder theories based on the most unassuming of customers.

They themselves end up taking home Free Willy to watch that night, and a few Westerns that Wayne was interested in. Something to get him through the rest of the week after Eddie had gone.

Steve drops Wayne back at the trailer at his instruction, the older man giving him clear directions on how to get back to the house they’d left Eddie in. Steve listens carefully, even though he can use the GPS on his phone.

He arrives back at the house without needing it, Mike’s mom Karen letting him in and pointing out the basement.

Hand on the railing, he heads down the steps of it, already hearing Eddie’s voice. Like he’s never heard it before. 

“Gentleman, you are scared, you are tired, you are injured. Do you flee, or do you stay and fight?” He boasts.

There’s a tittering down below, and Steve comes to a stop as the basement fully comes into view, the kids spread out at a table with an elaborate game setup beheld in front of them. Eddie is partially hidden behind a partition at the head of it, his eyes bright.

“I say we stay and fight.” Dustin pipes up. The kids weigh the seriousness, before Erica confirms her agreement, adding, “To the death.” Fiercely, for good measure.

Her words prompt all the rest of the kids to start to chant “To the death! To the death! To the death!”

Bemused, Steve watches them play - watches Eddie narrate, and eviscerate them - until in an act of sheer dumb luck it seems, Erica wins the game.

The kids go ballistic, and Steve watches as, instead of getting defeated, Eddie is elated. Practically as abuzz with the victory as the rest of them.

As the commotion moves about the room, he looks to Steve. All buttery and…content. Like Wayne had said.

“Hello.” Steve smiles, and for the first time in all his time knowing Steve, Eddie’s not sure if it’s fake or real. 

“Hi.” He replies, smiling tentatively back at him. Steve gravitates towards Eddie before he knows he’s moving. “Having fun?”

Eddie nods, and Steve tells him over the kids uproariously fleeing the basement in search of snacks. “Well, I hate to drag you away from your devoted audience, but we have a movie date with your uncle and a killer whale.”

Eddie barks out a laugh, before linking their arms together in a good natured - albeit not totally romantic - gesture. 

Bidding the kids goodbye as he goes, he readily leaves with Steve, who is polite enough to actually ask Eddie about the game, in detail. 

Eddie’s answers are enthusiastic.

Things between them are going smoothly, and they’re getting along fine, until they stop at the local grocery store to grab a few things for Wayne for dinner.

In one of the aisles, an older woman recognizes Eddie, who winces when he sees her. She doesn’t stop to chat, merely nodding at Eddie as she passes, greeting him with an acknowledgement of, “Junior.” 

“Bev.” He grimaces back. Hurrying along while Steve watches and wonders what that’s about. 

Eddie’s face quickly smoothes over though, and they accomplish the rest of their task without a hitch before heading back to his uncle.

The three men have dinner, trading stories about how their day was and laughing, like a proper family.

Then they settle in for the night, Eddie giving a great sweeping bow as he offers Steve the coveted seat on the couch. Wayne is looking at Steve knowingly as he takes it, Eddie dropping down next to him and throwing an arm around Steve.

Which is safe, casual - and definitely leaves Steve in no state to focus on the entire beginning of the movie. It’s not until Willy is being put through like - a car wash - (genuinely, what even is this movie?) That Steve tunes back in.

Eddie has had no such problem, totally enraptured, his black fingernails digging into the couch cushion behind Steve’s head. Tuned in like this is the Super Bowl and he’s got everything on the line. It’s so damn cute.

Even his crying is cute, dammit! It’s not fair. Steve cries so ugly and here’s Eddie - Eddie who fucking, keeps him some semblance of a functioning person, who adopted a bunch of teenagers, who has a fucking heart of gold…How is Steve supposed to cope?

He can’t.

Instead Steve leans heavily into Eddie’s side, cooing at him as he blubbers over the whale’s noises as it says goodbye to the juvenile he’d bonded with.

When Eddie recovers, he whines at Wayne some more for embarrassing him in front of his man - like he didn’t absolutely love every minute. 

Steve takes it as free license to flirt with him shamelessly, telling him just how unbothered he is by the display of emotion.

Eddie refutes him playfully, and he tries not to be devastated by that.

By now the hour has grown late enough that Eddie and Steve excuse themselves to bed, Wayne woefully getting ready for work before promising to be back in plenty of time to see them off to the airport.

Steve doesn’t like that he’s planning on taking them after his night shift, worried about him being up for so long, and he plans to talk to Eddie about it for tomorrow. But for now, he lets it be.

They head to bed.

With the movie over and out of Wayne’s sight, Eddie had become more reserved. 

The silence chipped away at Steve, until he couldn’t stand it. 

The dread Eddie was exuding needed addressing, and so, with it weighing over them and his failing to get comfortable in Eddie’s bed several times, Steve bit the bullet, and he started the conversation.

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