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endlessthxxghts · 23 days

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Ch1: New Beginnings

teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales || W/C: 8.8k

Ch. Summary: Frankie gets introduced to a new opportunity for his daughter, Elena. You get introduced to your new job. In celebration of these new beginnings, you both set out to a night at the bar, completely unaware that your paths are about to cross.

Content/Warnings: F!reader (she/her), female sex anatomy, reader is able-bodied. No physical descriptions of reader. Slight description of reader’s outfit (no size descriptions). Tío Santi (& TF Miller boys) makes an appearance. Slight implication reader understands some Spanish. Going out to bar/consumption of alcohol. Flirting. POV switch, mainly Frankie this chapter. SMUT 18+ MDNI. Sexual activity while under the influence of alcohol (you've slowed down your alcohol intake by that point, though). “Author Chose Not to Apply Archive Warnings” because it may result in spoilers (but there’s smut here…).

A/N: thank you to @honeyedmiller for proof-reading this for me, and thank you to @javierpena-inatacvest for peer pressuring me into giving my little idea an actual chance. I love love love you both sm🩶 to everyone, I truly hope you enjoy!! All my love xx

series masterlist || main masterlist || updates blog

August 2024

“Thank you so much for coming in, Mr. Morales.”

“It’s no problem at all, Mrs. Adams, is- is, um, is everything okay? Is Elena doing alright?” Frankie asks the second grade teacher, concerned.

The school year hasn’t started yet, but from time to time, the school does accelerated summer sessions that last a few weeks up until the actual start date of the school year. Elena always attends these sessions, begging her dad every summer to sign her up for one because I need to learn more! she’d tell him. How could he deny her the chance to expand that beautiful mind of hers?

“Oh, yes, everything is good! Elena is wonderful, and that’s actually why I asked you to come in,” she states. “Are you aware of how smart that girl is?”

Frankie can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across his face. “Yeah, she’s always too excited to show me her progress reports and report cards, always pulling them out before we even leave the parking lot at the end of her days,” he beams.

“Oh, I bet. She blows me away everyday, that girl,” Mrs. Adams says genuinely. “So much so that I actually think she shouldn’t be attending here anymore,” the teacher adds, softer than the rest of her previous statements.

Frankie’s eyebrows twist in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong, I love having Elena, and everyone in this school loves her, too. She’s one of our brightest. But,” she sighs. “She is so damn smart, Mr. Morales. I’d go as far as to say she’s a prodigy.”

“Oh,” Frankie says, pleasantly surprised and confused. He still doesn’t know where she’s getting at. He tells her as much.

“What I’m trying to say is- Elena isn’t getting the proper brain stimulation someone of her level needs. She needs to go somewhere that will increase her levels at the fast rate she’s moving and somewhere that will stimulate the creative parts of her brain. Traditional public school—at least here—cannot provide her with that.”

Frankie has always known his daughter’s natural intelligence. She often comes home either excited because they worked on a topic she’s really good at, or she comes home really bored and exhausted—because they worked on a topic she’s really good at. It’s too repetitive for her, but he wasn’t sure what other options he had.

Frankie takes a moment to think. “Even if I did move her to a school that has all this, it sounds like it would cost a lot of money. Money that I unfortunately don’t have right now,” he says with a heavy breath.

Mrs. Adams’ smile grows ten times bigger. “Mr. Morales-”

“Frankie, please,” he corrects.

“Frankie, there’s a school for the gifted connected to our local university just a few miles down the way. I used to work there, and I have friends there. Please forgive me if I’ve overstepped, but I’ve spoken to the Director of Admissions. There’s a waitlist, and barely any get admitted—and it’s by semester, so you’ll have to keep up with re-enrolling her—but I told them all about Elena. They want her, Frankie. No waitlist. No tuition. They want her for this new semester. And I really think you should go for it.”

Frankie sits in Mrs. Adams’ office, utterly stunned. He’s sure his jaw is on the floor right now, eyes bugged out like those squeezable stress toys. “I- I don’t know what to say…” Frankie trails off.

“I know it’s a big step,” the teacher comforts. “But think about it.” She pulls out a card from her desk and hands it to him. “Here’s the director’s card. I’ll reach out to them to make sure they know to expect your call.”

Frankie knows this is a good thing. He knows these are once in a lifetime opportunities, and he knows if he goes through with this now, those rare opportunities won’t be so rare for her as she gets older. That’s all he wants for his daughter; nothing but opportunity and the right kind of challenges meant to help her grow as a person.

So why does he feel so nervous? He’s dealt with change before, and he’s dealt with last-minute, under pressure change up in the sky where his life could’ve been on the line—but nothing compares to the anxiety when it involves Elena. Since she was born, she is all he’s ever known. It’s been him and her against the world, and although some days are more difficult than others doing this parenting thing alone, Frankie wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gives Mrs. Adams his thank yous and goodbyes, and makes his way to the front office. It’s 12 o’ clock right now—recess time—but he wouldn’t doubt she’s propped up against a pillar with her nose in a book. He decides to check Elena out early and take her to go get dessert.

“She’ll be escorted here in a few minutes,” the front desk lady tells him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Frankie says, resting his back against the wall.

A few minutes pass and the office’s door bursts open with the heartwarming sounds of his daughter’s giggles, an excited aura filling the room. “¡Papi!” she squeals, immediately wrapping her arms around the parts of her father she can reach.

“¡Mija!” he says, matching her energy, pulling her in for a tight squeeze. He kneels down to reach her level, placing a kiss on her forehead before he speaks. “Wanna go get dessert?”

Her eyes light up like a million stars. “Please!!” she replies, her entire body shaking in Frankie’s grasp.

Frankie picks her up, and they make their way to the car. Buckling her into her car seat, Frankie settles himself to the driver’s seat and asks the burning question before he pulls off. “Brownie sundae spot or-”

“BROWNIE!” Elena replies immediately. Frankie has to slap his mouth to stop from the uncontrollable laughter bubbling out from his chest. He knew what her answer would be. “Okay, mija, brownie spot it is.”

Their usual brownie sundae spot is in a little diner up the street from their house. Frankie began this little tradition as a way to celebrate Elena’s wins and milestones. The first milestone they celebrated was for her first word: airplane. Frankie was ecstatic, practically jumping up and down with Elena in his arms until his best friend, Santiago, had to calm him down. “Ay, tranquilo, tranquilo,” relax, relax, he said, holding his hands softly around Elena’s little head.

Today’s milestone, however, is much bigger than any they’ve celebrated, and the notion is not lost on little Elena.

“Papi,” she calls. “Are we celebrating something?”

Frankie chuckles to himself, loving how easily she can put things together. “We might be, mi amorcito.”

“Hm?” She hums, eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side as she settles into the booth seat, sitting across from her dad.

Their usual waiter comes before they can continue their conversation. “Hey, guys! The usual?”

Elena answers first, very excitedly. “YES, YES, BROWNIE SUNDAE!!!” She squeals as she elongates every syllable. Frankie confirms with a head nod as he chuckles at her energy.

“What’s the occasion?” The waiter says softer, directing the question to Frankie.

“We’ll see after I talk with this little lady,” Frankie tells the waiter, extending his long arm out to pinch Elena’s little cheek.

The waiter smiles and walks off, putting the order in with the kitchen and asking for a little bit of a delay to give Frankie enough time to talk things through with his daughter.

“So,” Frankie states.

“So,” his daughter mirrors, putting on her best serious face while fighting the huge grin that wants to break free.

“Do you know how smart you are, mija?” Frankie asks, smiling because he knows what she’s gonna say. Duh, papi, he thinks in his head.

“Duh, papi!” She says, a troublemaking giggle she’s had since her babbling stages echoes their little corner of the diner.

“Alright, little smart ah-” Frankie coughs to stop his mouth. “You little smarty pants,” he corrects himself.

“Daddy, were you about to call me a smartass?” She scolds.

His cheeks flush a bright red. “You spend too much time with Tío Santi,” he deadpans.

She hums, nodding her head triumphantly.

“Anyway,” he says, noting in his mind to scold Santi for his mouth around his little girl. “You’re so smart, mija, I was wondering… well, I was wondering if you feel like you’re actually learning?”

“What do you mean, papi?”

“Well, everything you’ve been learning so far is super easy for you, isn’t it?”

She ponders for a moment. “Yeah, it’s easy,” she confirms.

“Does it ever make you bored, how easy some days are?”

“A little, yeah,” she says a little softer. “But it’s okay because I end up helping my friends, and Mrs. Adams tells me I’m her assistant,” she giggles with pride.

“You’re too good, amor,” he chuckles. “But what if I told you,” he starts. Immediately, her interest is piqued. “A really fancy, really smart school heard about how smart you are?”

Her chocolate brown eyes widen, and her little jaw drops. “Me?! Really?!”

“Yes, baby!” Frankie can feel his excitement rising alongside hers, his initial nervousness fading just as quick. “And what if I told you they want you to go to their school?” Elena’s hands fly to her mouth, suppressing her squeals of joy. Frankie can hear her legs kicking back and forth underneath the table. “Would you wanna go, mi niña inteligente (my smart girl)?”

“So… I’ll learn harder things?” She asks.

“Yes,” he swallows thickly. Frankie thinks she’s having anxiety.

It’s not. “Then…” She settles for her usual diva answer. “Duh, papi!” She giggles, positively radiating pure excitement on this new journey she’s about to embark on.

She wiggles out of her side of the booth to crash into her father’s arms, pulling him into the tightest hug ever. As she pulls away and settles next to Frankie, the waiter comes out with the sundae, Congratulations! written in cursive on the side of the plate. Elena reads the message with ease, scooping up the red icing with her finger and licking it up. “Thank you!!” She exclaims to the waiter who murmurs a sweet smartest person I know with a ruffle to her curly head of hair.

The waiter looks at Frankie with a genuine smile, and Frankie returns it. This diner really has been there for all the Morales’ family wins. Frankie wonders what other miracles just might happen in this little building.

For the first time in your teaching career, you are nervous.

You’ve dealt with gifted children before, and you had no problems juggling public school and the extra side lessons you’d give to the occasional gifted child. People tend to underestimate the amount of prodigal children in the world due to the constant brushing off these adults like to give to developing humans. These little children deserve as much respect and care that any other human deserves, maybe even more. The children are our future, after all.

So, now that you’re starting a new job, in a school dedicated to your life’s passion—yeah, you’re pretty nervous.

This school was created by the state’s local university; it was their attempt at providing children with an enriching, stimulating environment that the typical school system couldn’t care enough to provide, and their attempt was an absolute success. It will take a little while to get themselves off their feet, so tuition and enrolling students is expensive compared to what you would pay for your child in the public education system.

However, with time and careful planning, the program’s ultimate goal is to adequately provide to childrens of all needs—regardless of their prodigal status—for little to no cost. It’s definitely an ambitious goal, but it’s one you’re absolutely ready and willing to stick around for.

You were hired this summer, August 1st to be exact. The principal—Ms. Sabatino—caught wind of the powerhouse of a teacher who goes above and beyond for her students, and she just had to have you on her team. Your interview wasn’t even a real interview: it was exchanging logistical information and showing you to your new home base, your new classroom. She told you if you wanted to take the time before the year officially started to make your classroom feel more like you, you could.

It took you about a week to settle the vibe of your classroom, and during your preparations, you met a few other teachers, instantly hitting it off with each other that they invited you to their “semester pregame,” they called it.

“You have to come, Ms. Powerhouse!” Ms. Smith—Linda, she corrected you—exclaimed.

“Powerhouse?!” You repeated, a little frightened. You knew coming in that the culture here was very tight-knit, but how fast does word really spread around here?

“Yeah, you powerhouse, you!” Mr. White—Blake—chimes in. “You’re all anyone is talking about! Honestly, we’ve been dying to meet you.”

And lastly, Ms. Marshall—Leah—joins in. “You’re a real legend, ya know that, don’t you? Sticking to the Rebel theme we got going on here,” she smirks, referring to their school’s mascot, the Rebels.

You flush under all their praise. “I really don’t know what you guys are talking about,” you say softly. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for our kiddos, like any of us would.” A proud smile graces your face, and not for the things you’ve done, but for the amazing students you’ve had the honor of meeting and teaching. There truly isn’t a better feeling.

The three teachers share a knowing look, the one that tells you they think you’re just trying to be humble. Their hums of secret agreement don’t escape your super-teacher hearing.

Ms. Marshall is the one to speak again. “Are you going to come though? We really would love to have you. We’ve been trying to find someone who can hold their alcohol better than Mr. Lightweight here can,” she cackles, pointing over to Mr. White, who now has an offended look on his face.

“I’ll have you know-” he starts. “Oh, Blake, enough with the excuses already!” Ms. Smith cuts him off.

You giggle at their banter, your apprehensiveness about this little squad slowly melting away. “I’m afraid if you’re looking for someone who can hold their own, that person is not me…but I would absolutely love to join you guys. When and where is this pregame?”

“YAAASSSSSS!” Ms. Smith is quick to squeal. She’s definitely the life of the party with these three. “We have it the Saturday before the semester starts! So, the 17th I believe. It’s a bit risky depending on how plastered we end up getting, but it’s all a part of the fun,” she says with a wink.

You reach for your phone in your back pocket, unlocking and letting your three new friends put their phone numbers in. You group text them so they have your number, too. “Perfect! I can’t wait,” you say sheepishly, your excitement slowly rising as their smiles begin to mirror your own. It’s been a while since you let yourself go and get lost in something else other than work, and you think this little pregame is exactly what you’ve been needing.

“Oh, come on, Fish! You have to come out with us!” Santi tells you, giving Frankie’s shoulder a punch of encouragement.

Frankie hisses at the impact, swatting Santi’s hand away with a scowl. “No.”

“Fish,” Santi reasons. “The Millers haven’t seen you in a hot minute since my ‘Lena girl was born, man. They miss you. Especially Benny, you know how sensitive that man gets. And! We need to celebrate this new chapter for you and ‘Lena!”

“We already celebrated,” Frankie corrects. “At the diner.”

“An adult celebration, Fish. When was the last time you let yourself go?”

Frankie sighs. Santi’s right. “Who would watch Elena?”

“I already spoke with Yavonna last night,” Santi says, a tinge of hope laced in his voice.

“Let me talk to Elena-”

“Fish, she’ll be fine-”

Frankie holds his hand out to signal Santi to shut up. “Let me talk to Elena,” he repeats, “and let her know our plans for tomorrow night. You know I don’t do anything without running it through with her first.”

Santi’s face is happier than a toddler getting ice cream for breakfast. He claps him on his shoulder, “Fuck yeah, man! Frontier boys back at it again!”

Frankie grimaces. “Pope, cállate, por favor,” shut up, please, he says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he kicks Santi out for the night.

“Tell ‘Lena Tío Santi says buenas noches (good night) please since her daddy likes to kick me out so soon,” Santi taunts, a fake offended look on his face.

“No,” Frankie says. Then he shuts the door.

Frankie lets a few moments pass to make sure Santi was out of sight before he calls out to his daughter. “Baby, tío Santi wishes you good night!”

Elena comes running down the stairs. “He left already?!”

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” Frankie frowns, meeting her at the end of the stairs to kiss her forehead.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You kicked him out again, didn’t you, daddy?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I did,” Frankie stutters. There’s no lying to this little Einstein.

“Hey, baby?” Frankie says again, crouching down to his knees to meet her level. “Do you remember Yavonna? Tío Santi’s girlfriend?”

Her gears turn before recognition sparks in her eyes. “Yeah!”

“Well, would you be okay if papi went out tomorrow? And you and Yavonna have a girls’ night?” He asks.

Elena’s smile turns mischievous as she pulls her dad in for a hug, whispering in his ear. “Are you going on a date?”

“Mmm, tío Santi is nice and all, but he’s too much a pain in my ass for me to wanna go on a date with him,” he retorts. “So, no, no date. Just spending some time with your annoying uncle and some of our other old friends.”

“Oh, okay,” Elena says as she giggles. “Have fun, papi!”

“I will, baby, thank you,” he says, pulling her into one last hug before they both venture off to bed.

It’s Monday morning, one week before the semester starts, and Frankie is buzzing. He’s nervous and excited for his daughter, but he can tell this new environment is one that gets heavily involved—in both the child and the guardian’s life.

He’ll do anything for Elena, of course, and it isn’t like he wasn’t involved at her old school. But this one makes it feel like he’s also attending this place. The thought terrifies his socially anxious heart.

He puts his car in park and practices a few breathing exercises before he gets out. He has a meeting with the principal today—Ms. Sabatino?, he tries to remember. This meeting is for her to finally get to know him, and for the paperwork to get finalized. And because they aren’t charging him for this semester, he also needs to fill out some waivers.

He makes his way to her office, checking in at the front desk and waiting to be pulled back. His hand fidgets at his side, the nerves getting to him again.

“Mr. Morales?” A voice calls out, pulling him from his nerves. “Ms. Sabatino is ready for you, first door to your left.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He softly knocks on the door before entering.

“Mr. Morales! Come in, come in!” Ms. Sabatino waves him over. “Sit, make yourself comfortable! It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well, ma’am, and please, just Frankie is good,” he tells her, a slight shyness in his voice and demeanor.

“Okay then, Frankie,” she smiles. “Let’s see here,” she says, squinting to her computer. “Do you have the enrollment forms?”

“Yes, right here,” Frankie sets the folder in front of her.

“Perfect, thank you,” she replies. “Here, you fill these waiver forms out that we talked about while I upload your forms in for Elena’s profile.”

Frankie mutters a quick okay, sounds good, before Ms. Sabatino speaks again. “While we get through these formalities though, did you have any questions for me? About the program, the teachers, literally anything at all besides what the meaning of life is?” she tries to joke, sensing Frankie’s anxiety.

Mrs. Adams already gave him the rundown of this place, but the financial conversation has been clouding his mind since he first found out about this place. “Well, actually, yes, I wanted to talk to you about the cost,” he starts.

“The cost is no issue, I promise you,” she reassures. But it’s not that. Although Frankie has major social anxiety, he’ll be damned if he comes off as a freeloader—even though absolutely no one here views him that way.

“No, I understand, but it’s more so that-” he pauses, taking a deep breath before he tries again. “I’m a single dad. I’m the one catering for both Elena and I. We’re not very well off, but we’re also not entirely poor. Just enough to…not really afford this place,” he shakes his head, he’s rambling. “Anyway- sorry. What I’m trying to say is, money isn’t an issue, but I can’t just sit here and not do anything to pay you guys back, even if it isn’t in a monetary sense.”

This piques the principal’s interest. She nods her head, taking a moment to measure her response. The computer pings as she thinks to herself, signaling that it’s done uploading the forms. She hands Frankie the folder back. He takes it, handing her the completed waiver. “I respect it,” she finally states. “A lot.”

“Y-yeah,” he says, not really sure how to respond to that.

Ms. Sabatino spins in her chair, pausing towards a drawer underneath her desk. She pulls out a little booklet of some sort.

“I have one idea,” she offers.

Frankie’s ears perch up. “Yeah? Anything,” he replies.

“It’s a lot to ask of a parent,” she says. “And I know you’re eager, but hear me out before you agree. And if you’d like to say no, then say no, that’s all I ask.”

“Deal,” Frankie tells her.

“So, last semester, the head of our PTA—the Parent-Teacher Association—quit on us. She quit and also unenrolled her child. Some weird drama, it was very unavoidable if she knew how to communicate properly… anyway, we are actually in need of a new head. I will admit, it’s a lot, but you’ll have me by your side, and I know a few of the parents would help show you the ropes and help you with anything you need.”

Out of everything, Frankie was not expecting this. It’s evident in the shocked look on his face.

“Like I said, I don’t need an answer right now-”

“What about the existing PTA parents?” Frankie blurts out. He may have not been PTA-level involved with his daughter, but he knows the seriousness in which parents take their roles when it comes to this.

“I appoint the head, and choosing one out of all of them would… to be frank… be a bloodbath. This PTA needs a fresh face. A new perspective. I can tell you’re nervous, but I can also tell you’re ambitious. I can tell you’d do anything for your daughter first and foremost. That is what my PTA needs. The rest of those parents- God- I love them, but they’re more worried about looking good and their brownie points with me than their kids’ experiences.”

If Frankie was unsure before, he definitely isn’t now. All he wants is the best for his daughter, and honestly, it makes him disappointed to hear where these parents’ priorities are. He’s absolutely scared shitless about doing this, but he can’t stop the next words that come out of his mouth. “I’ll do it.”

Her eyebrows fly up. “Are you sure?”

He isn't, he thinks. “Yes,” he tells her.

“Oh- okay, then,” Ms. Sabatino smiles bigger than before. She picks up the booklet from earlier and hands it to Frankie. “Read this over- they’re just some little rules we’ve established to keep the environment thriving for our kids. We’ve never had any issues before…besides last semester… but yeah, it’s just a precautionary measure. Thank you so much again, Frankie, and please if it does get too much, do not hesitate to let me know if you’d like to quit.”

He looks down to the book in his hand. The Rebels Guide - PTA Addition. He’s definitely not cut out for this. “Thank you, Ms. Sabatino. I’ll let you know. And I really appreciate you considering me for this. You have a good rest of your day,” Frankie says as he exits.

What the fuck am I doing? He thinks to himself as he gets himself into his car.

The rule book stares at Frankie as he drives. Stopped at a red light, he decides to place it in the glove compartment of his car. He’ll grab it later. For now, he needs it out of his view before he spirals.

Saturday, August 17th. Semester Pregame Day.

You’re in the middle of picking out your outfit when a flood of texts come through your phone.

[5:47PM Linda] You bitches ready?!

[5:48PM Leah] I’ve been ready, just waiting on Mr. Lightweight to get here…

[5:48PM Blake] Yeah okay, I’m not giving you a ride anymore, good luck.

[5:49PM Leah] Blake, I’m kidding, get your ass over here.

[5:49PM Blake] I’ve been outside, smartass.

[5:53PM Leah] Linda, we’re on the way to you. Ms. Powerhouse, are you sure you don’t want a ride?

[5:55PM] Please do not call me that.. And yes, I’m sure! I’m still picking out what I’m gonna wear to be honest. I think I’m gonna be a few minutes late.

[5:56PM Linda] OOOOO GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO GET LAID?

[5:57PM Leah] 👀

[5:57PM Leah] Blake is driving, but he also would like to say: 👀

[5:58PM] Umm. No. I can’t make myself look nice for my friends?

[5:58PM Linda] In this world? Not without a motif, no.

[5:59PM] Wow.

[5:59PM] Okay, I’ve gotta finish getting ready. See you guys in a bit.

You toss your phone on your bed, not wanting to make yourself any later than you already are. They are right, you don’t necessarily have to get all dressed up. And it’s not like you’re getting laid anytime soon, let alone tonight. Right? Gosh, it’s been a hot minute since you’ve had any action. Well, okay, if you count your trustee wand, then it’s been about an hour since you’ve got some… but human interaction? Yeah, no.

You shake away the deprived thoughts your new friends planted in your brain settling for a sage green tank top with a lace lining at your chest. Something casual yet not too casual, slightly flashy but not too flashy. And since it’s in the middle of August, you decide on some black jean shorts.

It’s 6:15 by the time you head in your car. They wanted to get there around 6:30, so you’re not too far behind after all. It definitely helps that the bar they chose was a seven minute drive.

When you enter the bar, you spot the trio immediately, huddled by a tall table, all already cheering with shots. Linda spots you with a squeal, sending Leah to grab another round with a fourth shot this time.

With the mischievous party glint in her eyes, already you can tell what kind of night you’re going to have. One that makes you think maybe you should’ve caught a ride.

The first shot goes down roughly, an immediate fiery burn sliding down your throat as Linda shoves a lime in your mouth afterwards. “Tequiiilllaaaa shootttsss!!” She sings, already on her fourth to your first.

The second and third round slides down much smoother, your entire body beginning to heat up from its effects. Tequila has always had a fast effect on you, making you buzzed after one shot and effectively fucking you up after the third. Maybe you were a lightweight. Nonetheless, you indulge in one more peer-pressured round from Linda before you settle on a sugary sweet mixed drink paired with a glass of ice cold water.

Linda disappears to the small dance floor while Blake convinces the people at the pool table to let him join. It’s just you and Leah at the table now, talking here and there, but mainly just watching the other two have their fun from afar.

“So how long have you guys been doing this?” You shout over the loud music. Once the clock hit 7pm, the music was definitely hitting the threshold for ear damage.

Leah looks at you with a genuine smile. She’s content watching her friends be social butterflies. She has them in her presence and that’s all that matters. “We’ve been doing this for a few years now, really. Linda was at the school first, then I got hired a semester after her. Then Blake got hired a semester after me. And because we were all relatively new, we all just sort of- gravitated towards each other,” she explains. “I don’t know what I’d do without them, honestly. In and outside of the school, those two are very important in my life,” she breathes in a sniffle, quiet enough to go unheard, but since you’re watching her, you catch it in combination with a tear she sneakily wipes away.

It’s your turn for your eyes to gloss up. “That’s really beautiful,” you tell her.

Leah laughs a little. “Yeah. But don’t tell them though. I’ll have to strangle you,” she says in a mock sternness. Weirdly enough, you think there’s truth behind that.

You pull your hands up in a surrendering motion, “Promise,” you respond with a smirk. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Want?”

“What are you getting?”

“Was honestly just gonna sip on beer and water the rest of the night. I’m tapped out.”

“Me too,” she grins. “I’ll get what you get.”

Making your way up to the bartender, you politely wait until she comes up to you. “What can I get you, doll?”

“Two beers, please, and also two waters, but can you give me the waters after I set the beers down at my table?” you ask a little shyly.

The bartender gives you a sweet smile. “I got you, honey.”

She hands you the beers, and you make your way to Leah. “I gotta grab the waters real fast, give me one second,” you say, already whipping around and making your way back.

In that short span of time, the bartender was met with a crowd of needy newly aged adults, swarming her with requests. She looks at you, but you give her a nod, signaling it’s okay.

Two minutes, she mouths.

You sit down on the stool in front of you while you wait, turning to check on Leah. Her eyes are back on her friends, a warmth radiating from her smile. Only now, you’re a part of her rotation, and the warmth is reciprocated to you, too. And to think you were hesitant with this bunch.

As you sit and wait for the bartender, a group of four rowdy men take up the bar space beside you. One of them even bumps into your side, and you’re quick to jump. “Hey, watch it!” You yell over the noise.

A large hand grabs onto the guy’s shoulder and pulls him away from you. The bar is loud, but it doesn’t stop his deep gruff from blessing your ears. “Benny, watch where you’re fucking going, man!”

“Oh, shit,” the tall, lean man turns to you. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention..” he starts. You can feel the man fight for his life to stay on your eyes. He darts to your lips for a millisecond before he brings them back up. “Can I… Let me buy you a drink? To apologize?” He smirks like he just pulled the smoothest flirt attempt ever. Your eyebrows furrow in annoyance, but before you can say anything, the large hand from earlier is pulling the man—Benny, apparently—away from you and to the other end where their other friends are. “Pendejo,” he mutters under his breath towards his friend.

You stifle a giggle. The man, your savior, finally actually looks at you, and at first he was going to ask if you understood what he said, but the moment your eyes meet, it’s like all the airflow was vacuumed clean out of his lungs, leaving him mentally gasping like a fish out of water. Physically, though, he keeps it cool. Or, at least, tries to.

“Hi- uh, I’m- I’m Frankie- look, I’m real sorry about my friend back there, he can be real stupid sometimes,” he mutters, his rosy cheeks bright on display, no alcohol to blame it on.

As he rambles, only then are you able to get a good look at this man—at Frankie, he calls himself. A baseball cap sits on his head, hiding what you can make out as curly hair. The dim light of the bar ruins your view slightly, but you are both near the warm light that emanates from the side of the bar, so your view is not completely obstructed. You can see beautiful brown, puppy dog eyes with a pretty scruff that grows haphazardly across his cheeks and jaw, and above his lip, too.

“Don’t worry about it, Frankie,” you manage as you look up at him. He’s still standing. You’re sitting on an elevated bar seat, and you still have to crane your neck. Good lord, he’s tall. You introduce yourself with a smile, holding your hand out for him to take. You have to fight your body not to shudder at the warmth of his hand.

Little do you know, he’s also fighting the same battle as you.

“Can I get you a drink, Frankie?” you ask. Usually you’d never do this, but there is just something about him. You need to know more.

“Uh,” you see him flush, an internal battle going on in his brain. Is it the battle of the so-called bro-code where he can’t hit on you because his friend did or because he should be offering you a drink?

He looks back to his friend. Yup, the bro-code. You quirk your brow at him.

“Yeah, okay,” he says with a grin as he perches himself to the bar seat beside you. “I’ll have a beer,” he tells you.

“Coming right up,” you smirk, winking at him before you try and regain the bartender’s attention.

You text Leah a quick I’m sorry, to which she replies with the eyes emoji again along with a winky face. Of course she saw everything.

The bartender comes to you and apologizes for earlier with the other group and then apologizes again when she admits she completely forgot to come back to you. She tells you this round of beers for you and Frankie are on the house. You try to tip her, but she doesn’t accept.

Frankie is really nice. Really handsome…and sexy…but you try to ignore the heat tingling between your legs because of the fact that Frankie is really nice.

As your two beers listen in on your conversation, untouched and sweaty, you’ve come to learn a good amount about Frankie. Like the fact that he’s a bashful boy, but you can tell he has no problem getting what he wants when the confidence strikes him. You’ve been witness to it a few times tonight—a hand on your knee there, a tucking of your hair behind your ear here, a long glance at your lips as you lick the residual drip of your drink—and it does nothing to calm your core’s ache.

The one that really sent you over the edge though was when he made you laugh particularly hard, your reaction was to lean into him. He took the opportunity to grab onto your seat and pull you against him, his thick highs entrapping both of yours.

“Oh-!” you gasp involuntarily, your eyes immediately searching for his. His gaze is dark, and so is yours.

Although quite nervous, Frankie’s confidence has spiked being in your presence. His thumb and forefinger come up to your chin, steadying and making your heartbeat erratic all in one. He leans closer in, the tips of each of your noses a hair’s width away. “You’re intoxicating,” he whispers.

“I could say the same thing about you,” you whisper back, feeling lightheaded and not from the alcohol coursing through your veins. “Been dying for you to touch me since you pulled your friend away,” you admit.

You see his Adam's apple bob in his throat. He looks past you, eyeing the single stall bathroom. You scanned the place earlier, you know where he’s looking. Tapping his thigh for him to look at you again, you give him a look of understanding before you break away from his grasp.

He faces the bar again, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He catches Santi and the Millers staring at him from the pool table they took over. Santi shoots Frankie a wink while Benny looks like a puppy who’s been kicked to the curb. Frankie really couldn’t care less right now.

Satisfied with the little window of time he gave, he stands from his seat, taking one more swig of beer before he makes his way to you. He knocks on the door softly, and you open it right away, pulling him in and immediately shutting it again.

Like a calculated dance, his hand goes back to lock the door while your hand grasps onto the fabric of his shirt at his chest, pulling his body flush against yours. Your hands take their time in coasting the plain of his broad chest and shoulders. Your thighs clench at the sensation.

His lips meet yours for the first time tonight, and he can feel every nerve in his body spark with electricity. Your lingering taste of all the drinks you had this evening mixed with a flavor he thinks is distinctly you consumes each of his senses.

Oh, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you don’t even know it yet.

He walks forward, backing you into the bathroom sink.

You hop up on your own, your legs spreading without any forethought for his broad form. His hands coast the expanse of your body, settling at your ass on the counter as he pulls you tighter into his body, your center coming into contact with this hardness. He practically growls into your mouth at the heat he feels radiating from you.

“Fuck, querida,” he moans, his teeth chasing your bottom lip.

“Frankie,” you beg. For what, you’re not entirely sure.

“Can I taste you?” He breathes heavily against your lips, fingers twitching to take action.

Fuck. “Ye- yeah- yeah, okay,” you stutter, eyes wide. Getting eaten out probably has to be one of your favorite things in the whole world, yet, with your dating history, it’s a rare occurrence. Your last boyfriend was disgusted by it, and your last girlfriend ended up cheating on you. So. Your experience of receiving oral was rare, and God did you miss it.

Frankie mistakes your surprise as fear. “Are- are you sure? I don’t have to, not if you’re not comfortable,” he says sincerely. He starts to pull away, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but you’re quick to grab onto him.

“No, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-” you laugh a little breathlessly before looking into his soft eyes again. “Yes, Frankie, please. Please, I want your mouth on me,” you say, tone a little needy on the backend. “You just took me by surprise, is all,” you whisper.

“Surprise?” He can’t stop his curiosity.

“I- I don’t know, guys don’t usually like-”

You don’t get to finish your statement before Frankie’s face turns angry. He places a heady kiss to your lips before he brings his mouth down your jaw, your neck. “So what you’re saying is,” he starts, his breath tickling your neck. If you weren’t propped up on the counter, you’d be on the floor with how weak your legs feel. Making his way down, he places a soft kiss in between your breasts. “This pretty little thing hasn’t been treated properly in a long, long time?” He asks as he kneels down, his eyes looking up and devouring you in your entirety.

“How do you even know she’s pretty?” You quip back, matching his energy.

“Oh, I know she’s fucking gorgeous based on the rest of you,” he purrs, fingers working your button and zipper. He hooks his fingers at the waist, and you lift your hips to help him.

“You flatter me,” you shakily say as you try to tease, your resolve starting to break.

Frankie smirks up at you before his entire demeanor changes upon seeding your exposed lower half. His face falls into astonishment, as if he just won the damn lottery, as if his last fucking meal was just placed in front of him. “What’d I say?” He mutters to himself. “Fucking gorgeous,” he answers his own question before he gives you no time to respond as he dives right in, the flat of his tongue licking a slow wide stripe up your glistening went cunt.

“Oh, fuck,” a loud moan leaves you, your head falling back as you relish in the immediate pleasure that shoots up your spine.

Frankie reluctantly breaks away to look at you, to check up on you, but your body is still shocked from the pleasure, and he grins, cheeks full of mischief. He hums to himself before he goes back in. “Fucking delicious, too.”

“Jesus, shit-” you murmur, trying to brace yourself for what you know is going to utterly ruin you.

He licks through your folds once more, slow and steady, calculated, measuring every small twitch and whimper that your body produces. His tongue moves up to your clit, circling around the area reveling in the way your breathing speeds up and your hips buck. Even with your movements chasing for more, he remains steadfast in his ministrations.

He continues his tease until he hears you huff. You’re getting impatient. “Baby, please,” you whine. “Please don’t tease,” you pout at him then, and whether it’s real or a ploy to get him to give in, how can Frankie say no to that face?

Without lifting from your cunt, Frankie switches from slow passes around your bud to attaching directly on it, suckling and flicking the sharp tip of his tongue across you. Your legs writhe under his expert touch, your hand flying to the baseball cap to his head and flinging it off to rake your fingers through his wild curls. He groans into you the second he feels your grip, his pace faltering for just a moment before he finds his way again.

Frankie detaches from you, dragging his tongue downward to your folds to lap up your slick. The squelch your pussy makes when his tongue makes contact is sinful. He lets his mouth wrap as much as he can around you, his tongue prodding at your entrance, testing your limits.

“Oh, Frankie, yes-” you lament, your hand pulling his face tight against your core as your hips force his pink muscle inside. His cock is definitely at full mast now, especially with how reactive you are for him. Your eyes are entirely white as you repeat his name like a prayer, your hips frantically meeting the thrusts of his tongue.

You grip tighter into his locks, angling his head slightly down, and fuckfuckfuck you squeal loudly, this angle causes his nose to nudge at your sensitive nerves perfectly with each push of his tongue inside of you.

“I’m c-close, Frankie- fuck- I’m gonna cum, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum- oh my God-” you practically scream, your body losing all strength as you fall back into the counter behind you, Frankie licking everything up while he tries to fuck you through your orgasm.

The vibrations of his moaning sends you into overdrive, and you’re so spaced out you don’t even realize Frankie’s been desperately humping nothing, bringing himself to an orgasm the same time as you. He lifts off from you completely, his breathing labored as his chin threatens to drip your arousal to the ground. Frankie’s fingers reach for his face, collecting up the residue only for him to bring it back up to his mouth. The sound of him sucking his fingers up like he just ate the sauciest of wings brings you back to reality, pulling your body up weakly as your eyes go wide when you realize what Frankie’s doing.

Your cheeks heat up, but your ability to tease is back. “That good, huh?”

“Finger lickin’, baby,” he says lazily.

He rises from his knees only for you to then notice the wet spot at his crotch. “Frankie-” you start.

“Yes, yes I did,” he finishes, knowing the question you were going to ask.

He bends down to pick up his hat, swiftly placing it back on his head while he grabs your shorts, putting them gently back in place.

“You okay?” He checks in.

You melt under his sweet attention. “Never better,” you beam.

You two stand there in each other’s presence before you finally pipe up. “So how do you wanna…” you trail off.

“You wanna head out first? I got a bit of a… mess to clean up anyway,” he says, gesturing to himself.

“Oh! Right, yeah. Okay,” you say awkwardly, as if his tongue wasn’t just inside of you. “I’ll see you out there,” you add as you turn around, opening the door just enough to slip out.

You stand there for a moment, giving yourself a second to register what the fuck just happened. You did not let a man you just met go down on you? At a bar, no less?!

You make your way to the bartender, needing an ice cold glass of water to cool you off. Your head is spinning, and it’s really not because of the alcohol anymore. But you blame the substance anyway.

Hearing the bathroom door creak, you turn around to see a blushing Frankie, his hat off his head and his hand shielding the wet patch between his legs. He sees you at the bar and he smiles, walking in your direction. However, before he can reach you, Linda magically appears in your face, drunk as shit and louder than you’ve ever experienced.

“There you are, silly!! Where’d you run off to?? Been looking for you, I swear it’s been like an hour!!!”

You look at Frankie over her shoulder, and he pauses in his tracks. You give him an apologetic smile. Before he can say it’s okay, the friends he was with finds him and drags him into a game of pool.

“Hey, sorry!” You scream over the music. “Just needed some time, it got a bit too loud in here,” you lie. You’re too overstimulated—in many ways as your clit throbs against the fabric of your wet panties—to handle more ridicule from these three. “I think I’m gonna head home now, though, I’m kind of tired,” you tell her. “Where’s Blake and Leah?”

She drags you back to your guys’ table, urging one more round of shots. You go with her to the bar to order the round, mouthing to the bartender to make yours water. She winks at you, and hands you your glass directly while Leah impressively holds the other three with a drunken ease.

When Frankie finally spots you, happy and laughing with your friends, he smiles to himself and decides not to interrupt your time. He can find you later.

Except, he doesn’t.

Monday, August 19th.

Sunday was a blur. It was spent downing more water to flush out your body while surfing every account on every social media platform you have for a Frankie in your area.

No luck. Of course.

Frankie’s Sunday was spent the exact same way, too, although he is much less tech savvy and his attempt only lasted an hour before he gave up and spent the rest of his day moping.

“¿Qué pasa, papi?” What’s wrong, daddy? Elena had asked him as she scarfed down her eggs.

“Estoy bien, mi amorcito,” I’m okay, my love, Frankie responded with a kiss on her head.

Elena didn’t bug further, but he knew she would soon.

Monday morning, Elena was way too eager for her new school, forcing her father up and making breakfast an entire hour before they actually needed to get up. Somehow, Elena even convinced Frankie to leave the house half an hour before they needed to leave, forcing them to wait in the empty parking lot until any sign of life emerged.

Elena buries her nose in a book, while Frankie sat there, watching the minutes tick by. As he stared at the building, red accents and Home of the Rebels painted in big white letters, he’s suddenly reminded of what Ms. Sabatino asked him.

He reaches over and grabs the handbook out of the glove compartment. He flips open to the first page to the table of contents, and the first section, written in italicized, bold letters catches his eye:

Ground Rules

He flips to the page.

He scans through each bullet point, each one feeling more and more like common sense, but with the way the principal described these parents, he realizes how necessary these so-called rules are.

His eyes scan the last bullet point, and he can’t help but bite back a laugh.

No parent-teacher relations. Parent will be kicked off the PTA. Teacher will be reprimanded. NO exceptions.

He flips through several more pages when Elena lets out a piercing shriek. “AHH! DADDY, DADDY, LET’S GO,” she’s jumping up and down as much as she can while being belted in her car seat. Frankie looks up to see a bustling crowd of children and their guardian. He sees Ms. Sabatino in the mix.

“Alright, alright, mi vida (my life), I’m coming,” Frankie soothes, giving a softer tone of voice that hopefully she mirrors. He gets out of the car and opens the passenger door behind him, unbuckling Elena and setting her down to the ground, grabbing her backpack and shuffling it onto her back.

Ms. Sabatino catches sight of Frankie and Elena, and excitedly makes her way over. She bends down to Elena’s level. “Good morning!! You must be Elena Morales, yes?”

“YES-” she stops herself and clears her throat. “Yes! Yes, that’s me!” She says, a decibel calmer.

Ms. Sabatino warms at her eagerness. “It’s very lovely to meet you, Elena, I’m Ms. Sabatino, the principal here!” She holds out her hand for Elena to shake. She takes it eagerly.

“It’s very nice to meet you!” Elena emphasizes, putting on her best charm. Frankie chuckles.

Ms. Sabatino rises. “Mr. Morales, it’s great to see you again!” He nods his head with a smile and a soft likewise. “May I walk you both to her class? I’d like to introduce you to her new teacher,” she directs the question towards both of them.

Elena looks elated. She turns around to look her father in the eye, Frankie’s very own signature puppy dog eyes reflected back to him. He doesn’t even need to hear the question to know what her answer would be if she pulls this card. “Oh, papi, please will you come?”

“Of course, baby,” he says, caressing the apple of her cheeks before she cheers in victory.

“Great!” Ms. Sabatino says with a clap to her hands. “Right this way.”

On the way to Elena’s new class, Ms. Sabatino really praises her new teacher. Apparently, she’s the best of the best. One of their newest hires, but she’s practically a veteran when it comes to teaching prodigal children. She’s a powerhouse, Ms. Sabatino calls her. He gets the feeling that the teacher doesn’t really like that label much.

When Ms. Sabatino opens the door to his classroom, the teacher is immediately there to introduce herself and welcome in little Elena.

Frankie really doesn’t know what happens next besides the fact that his heart thoroughly stops and Elena’s voice is a muffled daddy, what’s wrong? throughout his panicked mind.

What’s wrong? He thinks.

What’s wrong is that Elena’s new teacher is you.

And he is absolutely, wholeheartedly, positively screwed.

Fuck.

I hope you liked the first chapter of my new series, New Beginnings!🥹🥹 I poured everything I have into this story, and I’ve been so eager to share it with the rest of you. I hope you are able to love it as much as I do.

Follow & turn on notifs for @endlessthxxghtsnotifs to know exactly when a new chapter comes out!🫶

Comments/reblogs or any kind of feedback to let me know what you think is my favorite part about putting out a story!! Please let me know your thoughts!!! I love you all so much, and thank you for the endless support you all show me. I wouldn’t be here without you.

Floral dividers on top & bottom courtesy of @saradika-graphics <3 section dividers in middle of fic made by me!

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ian0key · 3 months

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SAM/SASHA AND ALICE/TIM????

TMAGP ep 1-2 Spoilers!! (And TMA Spoilers!)

Do you realize how similar Alice and Sam are to Tim and Sasha?

Many of you talked about Alice being fun, carefree and the comic relief, like Tim in the first season.

But what happens if we look deeper? I start with Alice and Tim because I think they are the most obvious

-Alice does not have "professional respect" for either Gwen or Lena.

Just like what happened between Tim and Jon. But none of them go so far as to "completely disrespect them."(at least S1 Tim).

-Alice has a younger brother who she apparently cares a lot about, just like Tim was with Danny. Besides, (this is my theory), but the way they introduced Alice's brother, I get the feeling that his fate won't be very different from poor Danny's.

-They know more than they say, Alice clearly knows more than she tells Sam,Alice has been working for the government for at least 4 years, and the only time she acted seriously was to tell Sam that he shouldn't get too involved in the cases, because she saw people go crazy because of it.

Something similar happened with Tim in the first seasons, he knew that the Fears were real, he knew things about the stranger, he was looking for revenge..

And now on to the similarities between Sam and Sasha.

-They were both overqualified for their position, Lena told Sam that the job he applied for was too low for his level, but he didn't care,on the other hand ,Sasha must have been The Archivist, Gerdtrud knew this, that's why her warning notes were made for her, but Elias found out after Killing Gerdtrud and left Sasha as assistant and put Jon as The Archivist..

-Sam is calm, he follows Alice's games but is professional towards his colleagues, Just like the little we saw of Sasha, She treated Jon quite well even though at the time Jon was a bit... very Shitty.

That's why Jon trusted her so much.

-Curiosity , Sam asked a lot of questions throughout the first 2 chapters, and when he didn't get answers he started investigating on his own. When Sasha met Michael, she wanted answer,without caring about the danger.

Also, That could have been a foreshadowing that Sam will be connected to the Eye of this reality???.

- Both of their names start with "SA" but that's not very important /j

And finally, we analyze Alice and Sam as a duo and the parallels they have with Tim and Sasha.The two of them complement each other perfectly, they play each other's games and we feel their connection.

Besides Alice and Sam are exes (although I think it's more of a reference to Georgie and Jon) Sasha and Tim always had an "almost something?????".like we heard in the fifth season..

I don't know, at some point I felt like I was listening to the reincarnations of the chaotic Archives duo , you know what I mean?

(English is not my first language, please let me know if I have any spelling mistakes🙏)

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zeawesomebirdie · 4 months

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Superbat Fake Dating + Identity Porn Rec List

Thanks to @jourquet for asking for this!! I hope you find something here to read!! (And paging @steine-druff as promised!)

These are in no particular order, but generally organised by trope. I tend to read longfic as a general rule, so these recs will reflect that :) the titles contain links to each fic.

Fake Dating

1. A Common Misconception by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 91,114 words; 21 chapters; complete

Summary:

When Bruce Wayne comes out, he accidentally becomes the poster child of bisexuality and realizes his lifestyle of sleeping around needs to come to an end. Clark, being the supportive friend that he is, volunteers to pretend to date him for a year.

You know the rest.

This fic has everything that one could want in fake dating: idiots in love, mutual pining, one bed, fake vacations, miscommunication. It also really captures the superbat dynamic of trusting and yes and-ing each other, even when they probably didn't need to be!

(And if you like this fic, any of rotasha's other works are just as good! I've got a few more of them in this list too)

2. over this threshold by orphean; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 59,283 words; 7 chapters; complete

Summary:

'I don't understand how tax evasion relates to you going on a date with, do I need to remind you, Bruce Wayne.'

Clark bit his tongue.

'We're going to get married. It's a tax break, not tax evasion.'

'Are you kidding me.' Lois stared. 'That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard.'

———

Bruce asks Clark to marry him for tax reasons. Clark, against his better judgment, agrees.

Exactly what it says on the tin. Some highlights include Bruce buying Clark ridiculously expensive suits, Clark taking forever to tell his mom what's going on, and of course the wedding itself which was just delightful, with speeches from Lois, Alfred, and Dick that had me crying.

3. A Rich Man's Game by malicegreres; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 63,942 words; 13 chapters; complete

Summary:

The editorial staff of the Daily Planet, currently owned by Bruce Wayne, is trying to organize a labor union. Clark can't explain to his coworkers why he can't participate without jeopardizing the campaign—or tell Batman why he's been so cagey around him lately. When Bruce finds out what's been going on, Clark recruits him to resolve his conflict of interest in the only way Clark can think of: by pretending to date him.

This fic is truly glorius. Of all the ways Clark could have solved this problem, he chose the most convoluted. And surprise surprise, it works!

4. mission parameters by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 33,394 words; 6 chapters; complete

Summary:

"Bruce." Clark turns towards him, leaning back against a bank of consoles. "We're not actually going undercover. We don't need an elaborate backstory– if anything, it'll be harder to keep straight. It doesn't have to be complicated." He spreads his hands. "Here's a story: we're members of the same elite fighting force. After years of saving each other's lives in the field, we fell in love. That's it."

Bruce swallows past the almost-truth of it. In Clark's warm smooth radio voice, it sounds plausible. It sounds like something that could happen.

—

Bruce and Clark pretend to be married for diplomatic reasons. When they return to Earth, things are a little different.

Of all the things that normally Bruce says, Clark is the one to insist on a simple coverstory. And of course, from such simple things spirals out a whole entire adventure that doesn't stop just because the mission is over! This fic features a domesticity that neither of them knew they needed until they had it

5. tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter [@susiecarter on tumblr]; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 33,007 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

*slapping this fic like that one meme with the car* this fic can fit so much miscommunication into it, it's truly delightful to read!! Also, yet another fic where Clark fails to mention what's going on to his mother. And of course the constant worrying about each other without actually expressing it, which is truly such a golden trope when it comes to these two!

I'm adding a cut here because this is already very long and we are still only just starting, so click the read more to see the rest ^.^

6. there ain't no star that shines by amosangius [@amosanguis on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 11,713 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

“I'm not the same person I was back in high school,” Clark says, “and I doubt they all are, either. What would be the point?”

“Oh, Clark,” Bruce is suddenly holding Clark's face with both of his hands, “the point is that I'm going to land us in a helicopter somewhere for all your classmates to see.”

Clark sighs and closes his eyes.

“Say 'yes', Clark,” Bruce orders.

Clark doesn't open his eyes, just says, “Yes, Clark.”

If you thought Bruce buying Clark expensive suits just for their fake dates was excessive, you ain't seen nothing yet!! This fic also features casual bed sharing (and so many references to casual intimacy oh my goodness it's lovely), Bruce Wayne being Rich As Fuck, and Bruce casually being overprotective of Clark in social situations

7. my heart is an open wound by yukla [@yuebings on tumblr]; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 13,367 words; 1 chapter; complete

“—I’ll see you kneel again,” Luthor is hissing, eyes hungry, and Clark is swaying back in discomfort—and as Lois checks their surroundings again, she notices that Wayne is still standing across the room, staring uselessly, as though he believes the sheer force of his murderous gaze would be enough to laser-blast Luthor into oblivion.

Jesus Christ, Lois thinks. I have to do everything around here.

5 times a Daily Planet employee protects Clark Kent, and 1 time Clark Kent protects the Daily Planet.

Or: Clark's coworkers watch as he fake-dates his crush with limited success.

It is probably obvious by now that miscommunication and Bruce's emotions getting in the way of everything are two of my favourite things to read. All of Clark's coworkers are the best, and once again Clark is a self-sacrificing idiot (affectionate)

8. flash in the pan by shipyrds; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 15,951 words; 3 chapters; complete

Summary:

Here’s the thing. Clark does understand. Superman and Batman are fucking. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne are not. Clark can handle this. He keeps parts of his life separate all the time.

It’s possible, Clark thinks, as he glares at a lurid tabloid cover of Bruce’s latest scandalous yacht party in the grocery store checkout aisle, that he can’t handle this.

—

At the Wayne Foundation's annual holiday party, things come to a head.

Okay there is so much I want to say about this fic and yet there are no words that could possibly express just how incredible it is. Bruce coming up with the worst case scenario for literally everything? Check. Clark agreeing to fake date even though he's majorly head over heels and this will likely end in flames? Check. Ma Kent giving the best relationship advice ever? Check. Dick yelling at Bruce when he tries to self sabotage again? Check. Truly one of the best fucking-but-still-pining fics I've ever read!

9. Operation Sponsalia by Brenda [@brendaonao3 on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 13,610 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

"When did you first realize you were in love with me?"

Bruce coughs up his wine.

"I mean, in this...whatever this is," Clark clarifies, blushing to the roots of his hair. "I don't think you're really — I mean, I know this isn't —"

"It's alright." Bruce's voice is raspy, but steady. "I know what you mean."

Clark's glad one of them does.

Or: Bruce and Clark have to fake an engagement for ~reasons — featuring a metric ton of very romantic dates, enough floral arrangements to start a flower shop, SO MANY puns, and Clark finally getting to know the real Bruce. :D

Clark doesn't find out that Bruce said to the press that they had been dating long enough to be teasing enagagements until after it's already been said. Was there a better way to explain why Bruce just happened to help save the Kent family farm? Absolutely. And yet they follow through on it anyway, and I love it for them

10. Sham-pagne by ChrisLeon; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 8,248 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

Superman is spotted visiting Wayne Manor, prompting speculation about how exactly he knows Bruce Wayne. To protect their secret identities, they need a plausible explanation and it seems easy enough to go along with the tabloid theory that they’re sleeping together. All they have to do is pretend to be in a relationship until the speculation dies down and then they can break up move on.

Or: Superman fake-dates Bruce Wayne, we all know how this ends.

This one was fascinating to me because instead of Clark and Bruce dating, it's Superman and Bruce dating, and let me just say I'm so incredibly hinged about it!! I think there is so much potential in that particular version of their dynamic, and this fic was such a beautiful exploration of it!

11. Speaking in Code by Mithen; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 7,459 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

Clark and Bruce must go undercover at a newlywed resort to try and stop an assassination attempt. Hijinks, UST, and reluctant making out ensue.

First of all, Mithen is a superbat master. Pick any fic of theirs and it will be delightful. Second of all, I could write an entire essay about how much I adore the way they go from irritable about this mission to incredibly enthuasiastic over the course of their two days at the resort, but then we'd be here all day so: if you like banter, one bed, and a case fic this is a brilliant read

12. Kind Truths by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated G; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 6,478 words; 1 chapter; complete

Summary:

Bruce needs help with an undercover mission. Clark can never say no to him even though he probably should before he does something stupid. Like tell Bruce he's in love with him.

“Why me?” Clark can’t help but ask. He tries his very best to keep his voice level, to not sound as desperate as he feels.

“Because I need someone there to watch my back,” Bruce says, a little exasperated. He really shouldn’t have to explain this to Clark of all people, it’s not like they haven’t been on missions together before.

“I get that, but what about Diana? Shayera?” Anyone who doesn’t have a big fat crush on Bruce would do.

Is it obvious I have a thing for Clark agreeing to fake dating despite his big crush on Bruce? This fic is glorious, and features delights such as Bruce metaphorically putting his foot in his mouth, Clark wanting nothing more than to defend Bruce's honor, and one of the most beautiful confession scenes I've ever had the pleasure of reading

13. where i come from by soetry [@soetrys on tumblr]; E; no archive warnings apply; 52,494 words; 11 chapters; complete

Summary:

Bruce doesn’t have a soulmark, and Clark doesn’t have a soulmark, on an Earth where everyone has a soulmark. Somewhere in there is a simple solution. Somewhere to that solution is an overcomplicated journey. Surely two of the world’s leading superheroes will not take the overcomplicated route?

Surely not?

This one is a little bit of both. The identity porn in this was really well done - Dick is a massive Superman fan, Bruce is unimpressed with both Superman and Clark Kent, and it all goes downhill from there (affectionate). Highlights also include Bruce using a dubiously legal site to crossreference soulmarks, him getting the Superman crest tattooed on his wrist using Kyrptonian tech, and Clark being a self-sacrificing idiot. This is also one of the best soulmate AUs I've ever read!!

Identity Porn

1. Get Over It by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 32,378 words; 3 chapters; complete

Summary:

Bruce needs to get over his inconvenient feelings for Superman and he meets an attractive reporter who he thinks can help him do just that. Little does he know...

Of all the identity porn I've read, this is one of the best! Bruce dating Clark to get over Superman is one of the best things ever and this fic really does a good job of their dynamic!

2. Lost Time Without You by rotasha; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 68,792 words; 21 chapters; complete

Summary:

In a universe where your soulmate’s injuries show up on your skin, Bruce is convinced he doesn’t have a soulmate, and Clark is seriously concerned for his soulmate’s well-being.

This was my introduction to soulmate!AUs and oh my goodness it was spectacular! The build up to the reveal of their identities was brilliantly done, and the chance encounters that pepper through the lead up to that point were captivating. This fic also features Bruce being a good parent and I really love that for him

3. the cost of being a good dad by Mawiiish [@superbattrash on tumblr]; rated T; creator chose not to use archive warnings; 95,533 words; 10 chapters; complete

Summary:

Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are all tired of watching Bruce struggle with the stress of trying to handle the newly formed Justice League. He needs an outlet, he needs to relax, he needs to get out of the house, he needs... he needs to start dating. And what he doesn't know won't hurt him, right?

“Excuse me, I don’t know who you think I am, but I think there’s been a mistake.”

“Bruce, right?” the guy says, albeit less confidently this time. He looks slightly concerned and if Bruce is not mistaken… a tad embarrassed. “Bruce Wayne? You look just like your pictures.”

“My pictures?” Something finally clicks in Bruce’s mind, and he takes a small step back and plasters a smile on his face as to not rouse suspicion. Stalker. “Ah, of course, I’m sorry but I’m late for an appointment.”

This fic features the batkids catfishing Clark on Bruce's behalf, Bruce being a good parent, and the utter chaos of miscommunication that can only come from these two being idiots! It was a delightful read, and of course the batfam in action is always a joy!

4. ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat; rated M; no archive warnings apply; 62,737 words; 12/13 chapters; incomplete

Summary:

"Clark. What the hell is this," Lois asks, staring at Clark's Bruceman WIP folder. Clark's first instinct is to fly away, but that would still leave his fic on display for her to see. His second instinct is to blast a hole straight through his laptop screen with his heat vision, which isn't much better.

Clark, in an attempt to make some spare cash, unintentionally stumbles into the world of superhero fanfiction, becomes a prolific writer for Gotham's OTP, and tries his best to fend off rival fans who want him to convert to superbat instead.

Oh my goodness okay. Where to start with this fic. First of all, Clark writing Batman/Bruce Wayne fanfiction is such a brilliant concept. Then add to that the fact that Clark is secretly crushing on Batman at the same time, and the entire comedy of a trainwreck is a delight to witness!

5. I'm Not As Think As You Drunk I Am by Mardiaz173; rated T; no archive warnings apply; 12,920 words; 3 chapters; complete

It was like living in the Twilight Zone. Everyone else believed fervently in Bruce Wayne’s reputation. He was a flirty, stupid, and entitled drunk whose only redeeming quality was his bleeding heart. And yet every time Clark spoke with Wayne, the man was clever, mischievous, and sober with an indecipherable ulterior motive.

And no one believed Clark. Not Lois, not his parents, not even Batman.

Clark insisting upon defending Bruce to everyone much to everyone's dismay is one of my favourite superbat tropes ever, and this fic really does it well! And of course, this fic also features Batman shit talking Bruce, which is always a joy to see!

6. Don't Quote Me by metropolisjournal [@metropolisjournal on tumblr]; rated E; no archive warnings apply; 77,131 words; 20/21 chapters; incomplete

Summary:

Bruce Wayne has weathered scandal before, and Wayne Enterprises can handle another publicity crisis. What Bruce can’t handle is one crashing up against his plans to infiltrate Lex’s estate. Set during Batman v. Superman.

This was the fix-it for Batman vs Superman that I didn't know I needed until I read it. The identity reveal was so incredibly well written, and the whole fic was stupendous from the very first chapter!

And that's all for now! I hope you find something in here to read, may you enjoy!!

#superbat #rec list #thanks for your patience too!!#this was fun to put together!!

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scribefindegil · 2 years

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There’s a post going around about what different AO3 tags mean and how to use them and most of it is very good and helpful BUT! Every time I see the description for “Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings” it makes me break out in hives.

Here’s what it says:

[”Creator Chose Not to [Use] Archive Warnings” means that at least one or more of the archive warnings (that is, “Major Character Death,” “Graphic Depictions of Violence,” “Rape/Non-Con,” or “Underage”) DOES apply to your story, and you’re choosing not to say which one it is. If you select this option, AO3 will put a warning on the fic that potential readers have to click through.]

Please. It literally does not mean this.

It means what it says on the tin: that the creator is not telling you whether or not archive warnings apply. They might, but they also might not! Yes, it’s important to know that if you choose this option AO3 will put a warning on the work and this could affect your audience. But it is not “misuse” of this tag to apply it to fics that none of the archive warnings apply to.

There are a lot of reasons someone might use this tag. There might be content that’s an edge case for one of the archive warnings and they’re not sure whether to tag it or not. They might want to maintain suspense over whether or not all the characters will make it through the story. They may simply have decided that they don’t want to provide this information. And that is fine, because using this tag tells readers that the story could include content related to any of the warnings, and if they need more specific warnings maybe the story isn’t for them. But it also doesn’t mean that the story necessarily includes that content.

It’s a broad tool. What it means is what it says it means. Please don’t tell people it actually means something different.

#not putting this on the actual post bc i don't want to get into a fight #but like #please #'creator chose not to use archive warnings' means 'creator chose not to use archive warnings'#that's it. that's the meaning.

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ihavethedreamies · 1 month

Text

Mine | Jaemin

Na Jaemin - NCT Dream

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~9.1k

Pairing: Jaemin x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Jealousy, Friends-to-Lovers, Smut

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fluffy Smut

Author's Note: This is for my bestest friend in the world. Jaemin is her ultimate favorite and this might very well make her explode. Which is the goal. She didn't ask for smut, but… That is why it’s a bit more…fluffy/vanilla than my other stuff, because it's for her >3>

There is a bit of cross-over between groups here. Changbin and Felix of Stray Kids are in it directly and Wooyoung of ATEEZ is mentioned.

Fun Fact: the middle pic in the banner is actually of Hyunjin

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

"Hey, you know my friend Changbin?" your friend asked as she applied her lip balm, looking in a handheld mirror. You simply blinked at this, considering it wasn’t even tinted and you pondered why she needed the mirror.

"Yes?" You shook your head, looking back to your laptop. You and Yuna were sitting at a table in one of the on-campus cafés . Studying in the library was hard because you two could get kind of rowdy and it was hard to stay quiet.

"He’s been trying to get me to set him up with one of my girl friends…" She drifted off, casting you a not very subtle look. You had never seen the guy, just knew he was a gym rat, and he was friends with your ex. Rubbing your eye as your vision blurred from staring at your screen too long, she leaned into your blind spot, which startled you when your eye refocused.

"What?" You grumbled and she sighed dramatically, resting her cheek on the table.

"Please?" She immediately started to beg, just repeating the word over and over.

"Oh my god, fine!" You relented. A bit hesitant since he was so close with Wooyoung. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to go out with a friend of your ex.

"What if we do a double date?" Yuna could tell you were a bit hesitant, and the thought of tag-teaming was better.

"Okay, like a double blind-date thing?" you asked, and her face lit up.

"Yes! Bring me someone hot." She winked and you huffed. Going over your own friend group in your head, you tried to figure out who was best for her. You immediately threw your roommate Jisung out. He was way too shy and quiet for her, and she was a lot for anyone. Chenle was also out, that would be way too much loud in your life since he essentially lived with you as well with how much he was over. Renjun wasn’t Yuna’s type, she doesn’t go out with guys she claims are prettier than her. Mark was…something was going on with Yuta that you didn’t have the time to ponder on. Donghyuck could work but he, surprisingly, was pretty serious when it came to dating and wasn’t a fan of flings. Jeno? He could work, but you were pretty sure he was supposed to be going somewhere for a cycling race. That left Jaemin. The thought made your stomach twinge a bit, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. His stupid goofy grinning face flashed in your mind and quickly changed to the cocky smirk he wore when he flirted. Which he did a lot. You decided you were nervous for Yuna because he was such a flirt, but then again, so was she. Deep down you knew you had a bit of a crush on him despite the fact that you declared you never would. Every time some guy rose in popularity on campus, they were immediately disqualified. He had been your friend before that happened to him, but you begrudgingly followed the crowd as he rose to be number one pretty fast. I mean, you weren’t surprised, you had eyes. Jeno was also really high up there, but he seemed more like a brother to you. He was like a sweet puppy dog, Jaemin was more like a lion. Lazy and beautiful.

"I’ll ask Jaemin…" You mumbled to yourself, and she perked up.

"Wait, Na Jaemin?"

"Yes? That okay?"

"Fuck yeah, that’s okay, holy shit!" She cackled to herself, and you grumbled, typing out a quick message to him.

What did that mean? There were two ends of the spectrum of messaging Jaemin. You either got very short answers like right then, or way too many emojis.

You rolled your eyes and waited as the little dots bounced as he typed. Then they would stop, then start, then stop. What the hell was taking him so long.

"When are you thinking?" You turned to Yuna who was typing on her phone, probably with her guy friend.

"Friday night, 7?" She didn’t even look up from her phone.

"Where?" You got ready to relay the information.

"Uh…he told you to pick." She sniggered at something else on her phone, so you went back to yours.

He was getting on your nerves, and you pondered why the hell you even liked him. For probably everything else but how he texted, but that was beside the point.

"Ask him if he’s okay going somewhere fancy. Our friend started as a chef at some place called Kwangya, but it’s pricey. Jaemin said he’ll pay for us." You put your phone down to pull up the website to get an idea of the prices. It wasn’t like a Michelin star-level place or anything, but it was nicer than most college students would usually go for. Looking over the menu you saw the cheapest entrée was still like twenty dollars.

"Oh shit, that looks good, let me ask him." Yuna leaned in, resting her cheek on your shoulder to look at your screen, then she went back to her phone.

"He said that’s perfect, he’ll pay for you he said." Your friend wiggled her eyebrows, and you exhaled through your nose.

You rolled your eyes; he was so freaking odd sometimes…Most times. After all the details got ironed out, you both went back to studying and working before heading your separate ways around four. When you got back to your apartment, your eyes immediately found a foreign pair of shoes by the door. Jisung was always sure to put his on the shoe rack with yours, and Chenle’s were simply thrown somewhere on the floor, but these were set nicely by the rack. Who was there? Dolphin laughter could be heard from the living room, and you guessed Chenle had maybe brought someone. Jisung didn’t have too many people he knew past the other six. The rest of their friends would almost all just have their shoes in a pile or would use the rack…

"Noona~" Chenle shouted in delight as you came in and you couldn’t hide a smile.

"Hi, Lele."

"Did you get your program finished?" Jisung’s much quieter and deeper voice brought your attention as he came out of the laundry room. There definitely was third person there, an unfamiliar bag was resting against the coffee table. Maybe they were in the bathroom.

"Who is here?" you asked and Jisung stiffened, worried you might be upset. Little did he know, you could never be upset with your most precious.

"My friend Felix." Chenle was strewn across your armchair.

"The one from Australia?" You made sure you got it right and he nodded. He was looking at his phone as he typed, a growing look of distaste spreading over his face.

"What’s wrong?" Jisung asked the other guy, moving to sit back down on the couch, picking up his laptop. You could hear the washer going and you really hoped he didn’t put too much soap in again. As you joined them in the living room, you set your bag down next to the couch and flopped on the opposite end of your roommate.

"Jaemin." Is all he said, and you rolled your eyes, understanding his sentiment. Guess he was being weird with everyone today.

"I hope it’s okay, I might have stained the sink…" A deep voice caught you off guard and you turned so fast to see the owner your neck popped. He was…beautiful.

"What do you mean?" You finally registered his comment after a few seconds of staring.

"His pen leaked." Jisung answered and Felix showed you the faded blue stain on his hands.

"Oh, that’s okay." You assured him, still gaping. He came to sit back on the floor at the coffee table and gave you a smile made of sunshine.

"I’m Felix."

"Right, yes, I’m (Y/N)." You introduced and Chenle burst out laughing.

"You’re going on a double date with Jaemin?" The second youngest looked at you and you groaned, slumping further into the couch.

"I’m not going with him. I set him up with Yuna and she set me up with her friend." You corrected.

"Yuna? Song Yuna?" Felix asked and you nodded as you straightened back up.

"Oh, I’m friends with her too. Who is she setting you up with?" He looked up from the pen that he was holding, probably a little weary it might leak as well.

"Changbin?" When you spoke the name, his face shifted from slight worry of the writing device to an amused look. He sputtered a laugh, and you weren’t sure how to take that.

"You dated Wooyoung right?"

"Yes?"

"He’s going to have a field day…"

"Why?" Was that a good or bad thing?

"Changbin’s liked you since before you broke up with Woo." The blonde huffed another laugh as he started to jot down notes from his textbook.

"Seriously? I’ve never even seen him… How did he know about me?"

"You were Woo’s background. You might still be, actually…" He mentioned it so casually, but you were once again shocked. You had broken up like four months prior.

"She’s Jaemin’s background too." Chenle had begun to chew aggressively on some licorice. Your licorice.

"Hey, give that back!" You stood so you could confiscate the candy and he whined pitifully and loudly. Then what he said hit you as you sat back down.

"I’m Jaemin’s background?!"

"It’s that picture of when you and Renjun fell in the mud at the park." Jisung finished and you sighed, rolling your eyes. He always had the embarrassing pictures.

"She’s still Wooyoung’s background?" The youngest turned to Felix.

"I think so…" The three boys fell back into the lull of whatever they were doing, and you sat and pondered.

"When are you going on the double date?" Jisung’s soft voice pulled you from your thoughts.

"Day after tomorrow, why?" You looked up from your phone and he looked deep in thought before he looked at his own phone.

"Just curious. I’m going to Chenle’s for a movie marathon."

"Avengers!" the other boy cheered.

"Where are you going?" Felix piped up and you were once again floored by his deep voice, especially with that pretty face.

"Kwangya. Our friend Taeil just got the position of head chef." you replied.

"He’s such a good cook." Jisung added and you nodded.

"That place is expensive…" the eldest boy was scrolling through his phone, presumably looking at the menu, then he giggled.

"Order the most expensive thing possible if hyung is paying." His mischievous smile was freaking adorable. You snapped, and pointed at him, "sure thing."

"Oh my god, I am so freaking excited." Yuna bounced as she leaned over your vanity, putting her lipstick on. Since Jaemin had told you to wear pink, you had your friend do so instead. Her dress was light pink with plum blossoms printed over the fabric, the tight dress ended about midthigh and had an asymmetric over-the-shoulder top. You were a bit worried about her walking in the tallest heels she owned, but she liked being near the same height as her date. She had her hair up in a curled ponytail and long pink crystal earrings. You had already gotten ready and had a natural makeup look on with pretty much just mascara, eyeliner, and lipgloss. Your dress was a deep purple with a high keyhole style top. There was a belt around the upper part of your waist and as the dress flowed down the purple faded into black at the end of a circle skirt. Your tallest heels were barely even heels, but they were black, and you had dark sheer tights on as well. Your black metallic hoops matched the bangle you had on your left wrist and the rings on your index and ring fingers of your right hand. Your hair was tied back and flowed down your back in loose curls. Not normally one for manicures, Yuna had gotten you both press on nails instead and yours were almond shaped, simply black with silver accents. Hers were the same pink as her dress with cherry blossoms. She couldn’t find plum blossoms, but most people didn’t know the difference anyway.

"I hope he meets your expectations." You huffed and she rolled her eyes.

"Girl, I know what he looks like, I couldn’t care less about his personality. I even broke out my fancy panties." She smiled and for some reason this really bothered you. You honestly didn’t know if Jaemin was the type to sleep with a girl on the first date, he didn’t talk much about his love life around you. You shifted on your feet, reaching behind you to adjust the band of your bra through the fabric of your dress. Your bra and panties were somewhat plain, just black with a little bit of lace. It didn’t matter anyway. Even if you really liked Changbin you weren’t going to bed him on that first date. Unless he was like…really freaking hot, which was a possibility. For some reason though, even thinking about it made you feel guilty. The thought of Yuna sleeping with Jaemin made you feel even worse, and you tried to ignore it.

"Is my makeup okay?" She shoved her lipstick back in her little bag, white with a gold chain.

"Yes. Mine?" She looked over your face quickly and clicked her tongue.

"Of course. Why’d you even ask?" She grumbled and you giggled as she fixed a few stray hairs, then you went out to your living room to wait. Jisung had left only about fifteen minutes prior, peeking his head into your room to say buy. He got a faint dusting on his cheeks seeing you all pretty and dressed up and he mumbled something as he left. Not even two seconds after you sat in your armchair, your phone went off.

You shook your head; he had been acting weird the last few days and you wondered why he even agreed to this whole double date. He didn’t seem particularly into it… When your door buzzed, you didn’t even get up as you heard him keying in your door code.

"He knows your code?"

"They all do. They tend to come here when they are drunk." You shrugged, still looking at your phone. You had been scrolling through your pictures and deleting everything of you and Wooyoung. It still irked you a bit that you might still his phone background, but you weren’t going to tell him to take it off, what if it wasn’t? You weren’t sure if he knew about your date with Changbin either, and you hoped your past relationship didn’t come up. When Jaemin finally entered, you heard him coming down the hall, evidently still in his shoes. You were going to scold him when he finally came into view, but your words fizzled out. Fuck. He was wearing a white blazer over a black dress shirt. Said shirt was unbuttoned at the top, not starting till a little above the end of his sternum. A tie was tied around his neck loosely, the two ends tucked into his shirt, highlighting the exposed skin. His slacks were black as well as his shoes, and his silver-colored hair was styled up just enough to stay out of his eyes. When your eyes met his after you had scanned his outfit, the look was so intense it made you flinch.

"Fuck." Yuna whispered and you cleared your throat, standing and grabbing your bag.

"Ready?" he asked, forcing his gaze away from you. His face softened into a cocky smirk as Yuna came to stand with you.

"Yuna, right?" He scratched his neck casually and she nodded, giving her best smirk.

"Yes. Everyone knows who you are Na Jaemin." She finally stepped up to him and linked her arm around his.

"Let’s go." You forced a smile onto your face and led them out of the apartment so you could head to the restaurant. As they flirted in the elevator, it was like you could only kind of hear them, your ears ringing like you had gotten hit in the head.

"Is Changbin meeting us there still?" you asked Yuna, and she nodded.

"He should get there around the time we do." Leading them to the small parking garage next to your building, you get in the car and wait for the other two. Jaemin held the door open for your friend and she got into the back where he joined her. You felt more like a chauffeur like that, but you just swallowed down the bitter thoughts and left the garage to head the right way. When you arrived, the valet took your vehicle and there was a guy waiting outside near the door. He was short for a man but still a bit taller than you, and holy fuck was he built. He had a white button down on, the buttons struggling to contain him. A black vest struggled over the shirt as well, and his black tie rested perfectly on his chest. The sleeves were half rolled up near his elbows, his forearms on display. A thick black watch drew your gaze to his hands, a simple silver band on his index finger. His slacks, also black, hugged his thick thighs wonderfully and you wondered if they would split from the strain if he moved the wrong way.

"Woah." He whispered, recognizing your presence when Yuna shouted his name. He came to stand in front of you, his gaze was scanning but polite. You watched carefully as his eyes trailed over your face and neckline, before quickly jumping to your waist and legs.

"You’re even more beautiful in person." He smiled and your face warmed. He took your smaller hand in his where it was rested on your bag, bringing it to his face and placing a light kiss on your knuckles. You heard Jaemin scoff lightly, and you chose to ignore it, focusing on the man before you.

"Let’s go in, I’m starved." your friend groaned dramatically and Jaemin held the door open for her, very pointedly letting it go when Changbin followed. That gave him the opportunity to hold it open for you though, and you nodded in thanks with a smile as you entered the restaurant.

"We have a reservation for seven." Yuna leaned against the podium where the host was as she typed into the tablet.

"Name?"

"Song."

"For four?"

"Yep."

"Please follow me." She grabbed four menus and led you into the establishment to a table in the back corner. The place was busy, but thanks to the ritzy environment, it wasn’t overly loud. The black and white décor and furniture were accented with different kinds of plants and other green things. Jaemin moved to sit down, pulling the chair next to him out. You waited for Yuna to sit but Jaemin was staring at you. Changbin shot Jaemin a look you didn’t notice, but your friend did. Changbin did much the same, sitting across from you and casually pulling the chair back with one hand for his friend. Your guy friend rested back in the chair nonchalantly, holding the menu in his hand on his lap, slinging his arm around the back of your chair. You didn’t even react, too busy looking over the menu, but the other two sure did.

"Order whatever you want, pretty girl." Changbin smirked when you glanced over your own menu at him, his resting on the table. You couldn’t help but marvel at his arms where they rested over the menu. His black hair was parted asymmetrically, his bangs brushing over his eyebrows. He was very handsome, in a more masculine way than Jaemin, who was more pretty.

"Are you sure?" you asked, Felix’s words flashing in your mind; you wanted to make sure.

"Of course." He smiled, looking back and you nodded, ignoring the numbers listed by each meal.

"Hello, I’ll be taking your order today." The waitress had come over and bowed slightly, ready to get your drinks. You simply ordered a water, not feeling like alcohol. Yuna did order a glass of wine, one that Jaemin picked out. He knew jack about wine, but he acted like he knew his stuff, he didn’t even drink. His order was simply for a Coke and Changbin ordered some kind of soda-liquor mix.

"Is this on two tickets or…" The waitress started.

"Two, me and her." Changbin nodded at you and before the waitress could start writing, Jaemin piped up.

"One, actually." You turned your head to look at him in shock and Yuna smiled coyly, resting his chin on her interlinked fingers. She hummed and Jaemin hadn’t even looked up from his menu but to meet your glance.

"I suggested the place, might as well. Tell Chef Moon Jaemin is ordering, so he better cook it really~ good." He smiled at the waitress, and she flushed a bit at the smolder, but nodded and headed off. His arm was still on the back of your chair, and you glanced at Yuna who bit her lip as she looked over the man next to you.

"What are you thinking of getting?" you asked your date and he hummed, flipping to the other side of the menu.

"The cream pasta looks good, but I don’t know if I would want chicken or shrimp." Changbin hummed, then looked up at you with a smile, "what about you, (Y/N)?" The way he said your name made your heart thump, was he normally so sweet or was he playing it up?

"She wants the lobster." Jaemin didn’t even look up from his menu and you glared at him. He wasn’t wrong…you loved it even if you didn’t get to eat it very often.

"It’s not even on the menu today." You tried not to snap at him.

"I think I’ll get the cream pasta with shrimp." You decided.

"Perfect." Changbin smiled and when the waitress came back with your drinks, your date ordered for both of you.

"Give me the steak." After Jaemin ordered, he took his menu and yours to hand them to the waitress. Yuna hummed, giving you a look, and ended up getting some kind of fish. When your guy friend ordered you grimaced. He knew you didn’t like beef, even just the smell bothered you. Though, if he was paying, especially with the prices being so high, you wouldn’t say anything.

"I know we don’t know each other super well yet, but you’re too good for Wooyoung." Changbin started and you gave him a shocked look. Yuna looked surprised at the comment as well and Jaemin huffed in what seemed like agreement.

"W-what do you mean?" you asked.

"This is the kind of place to go to. A beautiful restaurant for a beautiful girl. Let me guess, your first date was at an amusement park?"

"W-well…yes. We were first years in college though…"

"Still, you’re a lady not a middle schooler." He shook his head and you flushed some at the comments. You didn’t see yourself as a lady, but it made you feel special.

"Lady, huh?" The guy next to you kind of scoffed and you rolled your eyes. What was his deal?

"She’s more of a lady than this one that’s for sure." Changbin jutted his thumb at Yuna who sent him a scalding look.

"Fuck you, Bin."

"I would rather you didn’t." He smirked, turning the look to you. Letting out a small chuckle, your cheeks felt even warmer, the ice water a nice contrast as you took a sip. Focusing on the older man, you two passed likes and dislikes back and forth, just getting to know each other. You weren’t sure what the other two were discussing, but you could feel the tension leave Jaemin slowly. Yuna was batting her eyelashes every once in a while, and you had a feeling her heeled foot was brushing over his shin, if not higher. You tried not to think about it, going back to your date. When the food finally came, you smiled at how good the food looked and smelled. Luckily, your food more or less blocked the scent of Jaemin’s steak. As you twisted the pasta around on your fork against your spoon, as you went to bring it to your mouth, you noticed Changbin hold his own up.

"Cheers?" He smiled and you giggled, bumping your pasta swirl against his, then eating it. It really was so good, and you could tell it was definitely Taeil’s.

"I was surprised I couldn’t hear you from the kitchen." A familiar voice chuckled, coming up to the table."

"Hi, Taeil-oppa." You smiled at his comment to Jaemin.

"Hyung~" He cooed and you both huffed.

"I didn’t know you were going to be here too, (Y/N)." He glanced at the other two, "You’re Yuna, right?"

"Sure am." She seemed to be in a flirty mood, her tone was still lilted.

"You are…" He pointed to the other guy.

"Seo Changbin." He nodded respectfully.

"Double date?" Taeil’s gaze moved to you, and you nodded. He simply hummed before his gaze met Jaemin’s.

"Enjoy the food, I’ll make sure you get a discount." He bowed and then left and Yuna watched him leave.

"Oof."

"Really?" You deadpanned; she was literally on a date with Jaemin.

"I need to go to the bathroom, come on (Y/N)." She got up, grabbing her bag and you did the same to follow her. You really didn’t understand why girls always went to the bathroom together, but you would literally just follow along. When you got in there, another woman was just leaving, but otherwise it was empty. Yuna went to look in the mirror, pulling her make up bag out to touch up her eye makeup. You rested your back against the counter, it seemed neither of you actually had to go.

"Sorry that Jaemin is being weird." You grimaced a bit, your mouth going straight.

"Well, it’s obvious he is here for you so…" She didn’t seem bothered at all.

"W-what?"

"Oh, please, girl. It’s obvious he’s jealous and just came so you he could keep an eye on Changbin. I’m more here to help you not be too uncomfortable, it’s just a bonus I get to flirt with Na Jaemin." She started to put on more lipstick, but realized she still had to finish eating, so that wouldn’t make sense.

"Y-you think?" You turned to look at her and she scoffed playfully.

"Here, I’ll play it up and see what he does." She got everything back into her bag and you both went back to the table. You had no idea what those two had been doing or talking about, but the tension was thick. After you sat down, the mood lightened, and a smile came back to Changbin’s face.

"Here, have more of the shrimps." He picked a few off of his plate to give to you before you could protest. Shooting Yuna a look, she winked, and stabbed a piece of fish with her fork, holding it up to Jaemin. She hummed and you made sure not to watch, so you missed his side look at you. The small talk continued with your date, and it seemed as Yuna notched up her flirting, so did Jaemin. You two weren’t so forward, keeping it more innocent.

"Oh, here." You noticed he had some sauce on his cheek, too far away for his tongue to reach. You grabbed your napkin and dipped it in your water so you could get it off. He smiled and the warm look made your face heat, and you sat back all the way down. You yelped when Jaemin curled his ankle around the leg of your chair and hauled you closer to him so he could whisper in your ear.

"The hell are you doing?" His tone was sharper than you had ever heard from him.

"What do you mean?" Your tone hardened as well. He simple glared down at you and you scoffed, aggressively yanking your chair back to where it was, resting your chin on your palm, closing yourself off from him.

"Sorry, he’s being a dick." you whispered to Changbin, but he didn’t laugh, just sent a look at the other man.

"What’s your deal?" He shot at Jaemin whose face immediately lost its flirty grin. He could be really freaking scary when he wanted….same thing with Chenle.

"I just have a problem with people who don’t know their place." He rose an eyebrow and you swallowed hard. You really wanted the chocolate lava cake on the dessert menu, but you were getting fed up. He offered to pay for everyone, so you stood and aggressively slung your bag on your shoulder.

"Let’s go Yuna. He can get home on his own." She immediately followed you and you stopped, looking at Changbin.

"I had fun with you, I’m sorry he’s being such a douche. I’ll get your number from Yuna." You smiled, giving him a slight bow and he nodded, watching in shock as you both left.

"(Y/N)!" Jaemin shouted after you and you just picked up the pace. Yuna’s heels clicked on the tile of the restaurant floor and then on the concrete as you left. Tears were pricking at your eyes, the warm drops cold in the blowing wind.

"Hey, you okay?" She stopped you, noticing your face starting to get blotchy.

"He’s a fucking jerk." You sniffed and she sighed.

"Hey, I’m not mad, I wasn’t expecting the world from the date-"

"Not that, how he was with Changbin. If what you said it true…" You licked your lips, and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

"The reason it hurts so much is because you like him. It’s hard to see someone act like a dick when you think highly of them." She informed wisely as you both waited for the valet to get your car. You wished you parked down the road so at least you could get away faster. Waiting outside meant there was the possibility of Jaemin getting to you before you could leave. Speak…well, think of the devil, and he shall come.

"(Y/N)!" He had pushed the door open so hard; the thick plexiglass wobbled a bit in the metal frame. You groaned and told Yuna to take your car back and began to storm down the sidewalk toward your building.

"Fucking- (Y/N), wait!" He dashed past your friend, and she knew your shorter legs wouldn’t get you far if he was going that speed. As he caught up to you, you almost took off your shoes so you could start running. You tried to not wipe at your eyes, your mascara was waterproof, but your eyeliner would probably smudge.

"(Y/N)!" Jaemin finally reached you, his hand wrapping around your wrist, and he halted you in your tracks. Why was he so freaking strong? When you tried to get away, he pulled you even closer, holding both hands to his chest.

"Let go!" You were full on crying, and he was a bit shocked at this. He did as you asked and you were going to turn around and keep going, but a car, your car, pulled up next to you. Yuna got out, handed you your keys and you went to get in. Before either of you could say anything, Jaemin grabbed the keys himself and went to the driver’s side. You scoffed as he shut the door but got in the other side.

"Can you get home?" you asked her, and she nodded, waving you off.

"Changbin will get me home." You nodded and got into your car; it was a bit weird riding in the passenger seat. The ride back was silent, tension rising in the car fast, and you tried rolling the window down. Didn’t help, just made more noise. You rolled it back up, the seal making a ‘shunk’ as it closed. You licked your lips, just watching out the window. No words were said as he parked in your spot in the garage. You wanted to fester a bit in the car, but he pulled your door open and stared you down, prompting you to get out. You slammed the door shut and stomped forward past him to get into your building. You keyed in your code to the side door and didn’t even hold the door open for him. You could hear him following you though and he did all the way up to your apartment. Your door slammed shut and you both stood in the entryway, panting. Sighing, you toed the straps of your shoe and kicked them off, storming further into your place. It seemed he had done the same and was hot on your heels. As you left the entry hall and started to head into the living room, Jaemin grabbed your wrist, and you yelped as he yanked you. You found your back to the wall, halted just right so your head didn’t bang into it. His hand slammed against the wall, pinning you in, the other one still holding your wrist. You gaped at him with wide eyes, your hand held up and against the wall as well. He was PISSED. He didn’t get mad like that too often.

"What the hell is your problem?" You tried to psych yourself up, feeling incredibly small. Not only did his harsh gaze make you shrink in on yourself, but he was also bigger than you really realized. Taller and broader, he fully surrounded you. He scoffed, looking away and you sneered. He finally turned back to look at you.

"Are you really that dumb?" His tone pierced you and tears came back, frustrated and hurt.

"What?" Your voice was quiet, you face had fallen flat. Jaemin licked his lips again, biting his bottom lip before pressing both together hard. His eyes met yours and your breath hitched.

"You seriously, of all people, asked me to go on a double date with you, but you were there for someone else?" His face was close to yours; he was so close in general that you had to tilt your head to meet his eyes.

"Then, you showed up looking like that, but it wasn’t for me." He motioned with his head down, and you shuffled. Jaemin’s leg had shifted closer, his knee touching the wall.

"You even went so far as to flirt with another man in front of me." His words made you look back up to him from where you had been looking at his leg between yours.

"What’s it to you!?" You countered, trying not to move too much, he was so close, "why do you care?"

"I care because I love you, and you’re supposed to be mine!" He finally got it out. All of the fight left you and you simply gaped at him like a fish. Jaemin swallowed, not sure how to take your reaction.

"You love me?"

"Yes!" The hand pinning yours up pulled away, so your arm came down to rest limply at your side. Jaemin then rested it on your elbow, the hand on the wall shifting so his forearm was pressed against the surface. His forehead met his arm, the side of his jaw pressing against the top of your head. Your eyes couldn’t help but fall to the swath of skin revealed by his open shirt, it was right in front of you after all.

"I really wish I could have done this differently." His voice was quiet, the sharpness gone, and he spoke right into your ear. The sound seemed to rumble through you, and you didn’t know his voice could get that deep.

"Love?" You finally managed to get out and he huffed, pulling back enough that you could see each other’s faces. Jaemin brought his hand to his tie, and despite it being loose already, he loosened it further and just took it off. The fabric floated to the floor, and he took another step back so he could take off the blazer without hitting you. As he shed the garment, he continued to move away, throwing the jacket down. He turned away from you and you slumped further against the wall, watching as he rolled his sleeves up, so they bunched above his elbow. You couldn’t help but stare at his revealed forearms, a watch gracing his left wrist. On his right hand sat the ring he and all your friends shared. You had one even, but you kept in your jewelry box and only wore it when you were all together. The more you looked at Jaemin, like really looked, he had gotten way more muscular than you even realized. He caught you staring and in any other circumstance he would have smirked, but he just huffed, nearly scoffed.

"My eyes are up here, (Y/N)." He clicked his tongue and he started to walk back toward you. He had put his left hand in his pocket, the right held up with one finger out, and he poked you hard on the forehead. You flinched and yelped when your head hit the wall. Jaemin sighed, letting his arm fall and putting his other hand in his pocket as well.

"You really had no idea?" The question was unexpected, and you honestly had trouble thinking about what he meant, still out of it.

"No idea about what?" You shook your head, trying to get your bearings and he sighed dramatically, a slight whine in the sound.

"Me loving you, dummy." You blinked in response.

"N-no?"

"Well?"

"Well, what?"

"What about you?"

"About me, what?" He groaned in frustration and sighed really hard again.

"Do you like me back at least?" He finally decided to be direct. You simply blinked and he shook his head a bit.

"I’m going home-" He backed up and moved to leave, but you stopped him, gently wrapping your hands around his elbow.

"Wait." Your voice was so quiet he almost didn’t hear, but he halted immediately. His back was to you, so you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on his back.

"I…I think I love you too." You truly didn’t know for sure, never really feeling that way. You were still in denial about having feelings for him at all only an hour ago.

"You think?"

"I really don’t know…I’ve never felt this way before-" Jaemin pulled away from you roughly, but then turned to you, his hands on your jaw. When you opened your mouth to continue, his lips met yours instead, swallowing the start of your next words. Honestly? Best kiss you ever had. You didn’t know if it was because Jaemin and you liked him so much, or if he was just good at it. With a whine, you brought your own hands to his, lightly gripping his wrists. Jaemin pulled back, his expression still intense but in a much different way.

"Tell me now if you don’t want to go beyond kissing, because I need to know before…" He drifted off, his eyes still pinned to your lips.

"Y-you can do what you want." Your words were shaky, along with your body, but it was more nervous excitement than anything.

"Yeah?" You hummed in response and that same cocky grin you were so used to spread over his stupidly attractive face.

"Don’t tell me that, love, I’ll hold you to it." He had leaned in as he spoke, his lips softly brushing over yours.

"Please." You nearly keened and he kissed you again. It was rougher than the last one, deeper, his hand wrapping around your ponytail and digging into your hair. He tilted your head to get a better angle. His other hand started at your waist before sliding down the sleek material of your dress till it landed on your butt. He squeezed and you gasped, allowing his tongue to slide into your mouth. Your head was swimming, and you weren’t sure if it was from lack of air or just how good it felt to have his tongue tasting yours. When Jaemin finally pulled back, you whined at the loss which made him chuckle.

"Come here, love." His arm wrapped around your waist, the other going to the back of your thigh, picking you up with ease. You whimpered, wrapping your legs around his waist and you kissed over his neck and collarbone as he headed down the hall to your room. Luckily Jisung was at Chenle’s, and little did you know, it was because Jaemin had told him, "if this night goes according to plan, you will not want to be at home." And while the plan hadn’t gone exactly as Jaemin planned, the end result was the same. Your door was closed but not set in the frame, so he was able to kick it to get it open. It swung hard and slammed into the wall, luckily there was door stop, and he kicked it closed as well. When he got close enough, he literally dropped you on the bed. You bounced with a yelp, and you stopped as you tried to steady yourself, your eyes drawn to him. With rapt attention, you watched as he deftly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and untucked it, throwing it harshly to the floor. As he continued, the smirk on his face grew more and more devious, his confidence growing a little too much from your stare.

"Wanna touch?" He teased as your eyes traced every line and ridge of his torso. Without thinking, you nodded, and he laughed. The noise snapped you out of the trance, and you frowned.

"Jerk…" You mumbled and he chuckled, stepping forward slowly, prowling. His right hand gripped his belt and the waist of his pants, and when he was close enough, his hand went to your chin to tip your head. Jaemin crooked his eyebrow, and you wilted a bit under the look, more nervous excitement buzzing through you. When he stepped back, your eyes went to the hand on his belt and watched as he undid his belt, pulling it out of the loops with a snap and it clattered to the floor. Your mouth watered, and he tried not to laugh, "Your eyes are gonna burn holes through me." You flinched back, purposefully looking back to his face.

"Look all you want, love." he said, the smirk coming back. So, you did. Your eyes zeroed in on his hands, he first removed his watch, letting it clatter onto the floor as well. Same thing with his ring, he didn’t want the others having any part of this, even if it was through the friendship ring. Next, and you weren’t sure if he actually did it slowly or it played in slow-motion through your eyes, but he undid the button on his slacks, and they fell. You gasped, he did still have his underwear on, but he was just that much closer to being bare before you.

"You have too many things on." He decided and strode forward, falling to his knees at the foot of the bed where you sat. His hands went to your hips and pulled you all the way forward so hard and fast, you fell, back hitting the bed.

"Are these those tights that don’t tear?" His question threw you off a bit.

"Uh, no they were like a few dollars-" RIP. He just tore them right at the seam of the crotch.

"Jaemin!" You scolded by he ignored you; finishing ripping them and then pulled the pieces off. He could have just pulled them off normally… When the scraps were discarded, he flipped the end of your dress up, exposing your black panties and your face flushed as he just stared.

"D-don’t stare like that!" You covered your face with your hands then practically screamed when he unexpectedly buried his face between your legs.

"J-Jaemin!" You yelped, his tongue brushing harshly over the fabric, tasting your wetness though the material.

"Fuck~" He cooed at your taste, and you were extremely grateful he didn’t tear your panties off as well. What you didn’t notice though was that he pocketed them as his mouth met your bare cunt. Your back arched, breath leaving you, his tongue delving into your core. Jaemin let out an obscene groan as your walls clenched around his tongue and you whimpered. Why was he being so freaking noisy? Again, a startled yelp escaped you when his hands grabbed your thighs, roughly holding your legs open, preventing your hips from moving. It seemed he planned ahead because when he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked, your entire body jerked, the air leaving you.

"Jaemin! Wait, fuck-" You sucked air in harshly, the rising pleasure so intense and before you knew it, with one last flick of his tongue, you fell of the edge. He moaned as you whined, his voice fading into a low chuckle as your orgasm ebbed. Falling boneless onto the bedding, he got up from the floor and cooed at you.

"Oh, sweet love~" His normal playful tone was weaved with heat, his words seemed to rumble through the room. Gently, he helped you sit up, kissing softly at your neck and jaw as he pulled the zipper of your dress down. You let him pull the garment up and off your head, your glazed over expression going straight to his hardening cock.

"So pretty~" Jaemin huffed in delight, leaning over to kiss you again as he unhooked your bra and slung it somewhere to the side. With a mewl, you let him pick you up again to move your further up the bed, laying you down softly and making sure your head was settled on the pillow. His next kisses were incredibly soft, going from your mouth to the crest of your cheek, your jaw, neck, collar, sternum, the swell of your breast, then his mouth sealed over your nipple. It made you shiver, but he quickly moved on, kissing to the other side, and licked over your other nipple.

"Jaemin~" You whined, needing more. He smiled, not a smirk, going back up and kissing your forehead. The man laughed when your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, trying to get him closer to kiss him again. Instead, he let you kiss over his face, his hands going to your hips and adjusting you so your legs wrapped around his waist. When he grinded his still covered hard-on into your bare core you let out a low whine.

"I need you to let me go so I can get a condom…" He laughed when you shook your head no, holding on tighter.

"Okay." He relented, wrapping his arms around you again and you yiped when he easily hauled you up and got of the bed. Holding onto him like a child, he laughed at your antics as he stooped to get his pants and get his wallet.

"You always keep one there?" You grumbled and Jaemin continued to laugh, going back to the bed.

"No, love. I planned ahead~" He let out his characteristic little-shit giggle as he laid you down again, just as softly.

"Hurry!" You wiggled, letting your legs fall so he could maneuver and get his tight black briefs off. Your jaw went slack and the smuggest simper you had ever seen on his face. No wonder he was so freaking confident all the time.

"I’ll fit." He teased and you wanted to get annoyed but was too distracted as he rolled the condom over his cock. You swallowed.

"You’re sure you’re okay with this?" His hand gently went to your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. You turned your head, kissing his palm, and the soft gesture made his smile soften as well.

"Okay, love." Jaemin shifted, lightly gripping your hips and you buried your fingers in his soft silver hair as he brought his cock to your core, stroking it through your folds before starting to ease in. You gasped, trying not to clench too hard. It had not only been a while for you, but he was bigger than you were used to. Your whole body shivered, and you tried to relax and not clench him too much. You watched his brow furrow; you were tight around him and he couldn’t believe he finally got to be inside of you.

"Breathe, love." He smirked, helping you relax as he bottomed out. The walls of your cunt fluttered around his cock, trying to get used to the stretch and you tried to not dig your press-on nails into the skin of his back. He would change that though, planning on having red welts decorating his back when he got done. When he felt you relax more around him, and your body wasn’t as tense, he brought your legs up higher around your waist and gave a very shallow thrust.

"Fuck!" You moaned and Jaemin groaned, starting a slow pace, not wanting to overwhelm you yet.

"J-Jaemin!" You threw your head back after he gave his first hard thrust, nearly pulling all the way out before his hips snapped, carving his shape into your core.

"Oh, love, you feel so fucking good~" He let out a breathy chuckle, sitting back on his heels more, the angle change let the head of his cock hit your sweet spot. With each thrust, he fucked a little noise out of you, every once in a while, it would be his name or nonsense babbling.

"Hold on, love." He grunted, getting up on his knees more, his strong hands gripping your thighs so hard he would leave bruises, and threw your legs over his elbows. Jaemin smirked, rolling his hips and as the head of his cock hit the deepest part of your pussy, you came. It was sudden and your breath halted, and he froze, eyes clenching shut. He wanted this to last longer, and while he knew he could go more than one round, he really wanted to prolong it. You shivered slightly when it was over trying to catch your breath and he groaned, shifting on his knees, and grabbing another pillow to shove under your hips.

"Okay, get ready~" He practically giggled, and he began to fuck you in earnest. Your cunt was sensitive from cumming twice, but it still felt too good, and your mind was starting to fog. Your hands that were digging into the bedding scrabbled, gripping his back, not wanting to tear your sheets. He groaned as the rounded ends of your press-on nail dug into his skin, scratching down and leaving stinging lines all over his back. Jaemin chuckled deeply as you whimpered and moaned.

"You’re so good for me, huh?" You whined in response.

"Like my cock?" Whine.

"Fuck, I love you so much." He slumped forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, sucking, and licking at the skin. His thrusts stayed hard, but they lost their rhythm as he got closer to his own release. Your hands moved to around his shoulders, one still scratching up his back, the other in his hair.

"Love~" You mewled, and he huffed, burying his cock as deep as he could and came. Someday, he vowed to feel the raw heat of your pussy around him. Slowly he pulled out and you whimpered, feeling incredibly empty. He realized then that he had only brought one condom…

"Great." He grumbled, but when he saw you laying there, eyes unfocused and body limp, he realized that might be for the best. Smiling softly, he leaned down, brushing the sweat-soaked hairs from your forehead and laying a kiss there.

"Be right back, love." Jaemin pecked your lips and got off the bed. You were only semi-conscious as he went and cleaned up. He came back quick, helping you get under the covers, and he turned the ceiling fan on, so you didn’t get too hot. Somehow, you managed to stay awake as he took a cold shower and you mewled for him when he came back.

"(Y/N)~" He cooed dramatically, back to his goofy self. He had put pants back on but left his shirt off, knowing you would ogle him. Giddily, while giggling, he wiggled under the covers with you.

"You’re cold…" You mumbled and he nodded with a hum.

"Warm me~!" He opened his arms to you, and you tiredly shuffled closer and slumped into his hold. You were too tied to really appreciate laying on his half-naked body, and he soothingly pet your hair, nuzzling the top of your head.

"I love you." Jaemin whispered and you mumbled something, and he huffed, "what?"

"Love you too~" Your voice was slurred with sleepiness, and you nearly instantly fell asleep. He soon drifted off as well, but about an hour later, he was awoken by a commotion.

"Noona~!"

"Chenle, wait!" Jisung shouted after him but couldn’t get to him in time as he dashed down the hall and threw your bedroom door open. When all he saw was Jaemin propped up, glaring at him with a lump next to him, the younger stopped dead.

"Get out of there!" The youngest scolded, purposefully NOT looking as he grabbed the other one and hauled him out.

"THEY FUCKED!" Chenle nearly screamed and Jaemin collapsed to the bed with a groan and Jisung dragged him down the hall, trying to get him to shut up. You grunted a bit and Jaemin smiled, you were so cute. Your eyes fluttered open and he smiled warmly.

"He’s so freaking loud." You pouted and he dramatically acted like he had been shot in the heart.

"Oh~ So cute~" He enveloped you into his arms, holding you close and rocking back and forth. It forced a tired giggle from you, and you went limp again when he finally laid still.

"You’ll be my girlfriend." It was more like a statement than a question. You hummed.

"Of course." You ran your fingers over his collarbone, finally getting to feel and see him. Another cocky grin spread over his face as you didn’t hold back, your hands stopping on the waist band of his pants. He smirked, rolling on top of you, making sure you didn’t hold his full weight.

"For now~" You furrowed your brow, wondering what he meant. One day, my wife.

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brbsoulnomming · 4 months

Text

WHERE NOBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME

For: @sharpbutsoft

Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 14.9k

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, mention of alcohol and financial exploitation of child stars

Tags: Famous Steve Harrington, Bartender Eddie Munson, Alternate Universe - No Upside Down (Stranger Things), Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Snapshots

Summary: A drop dead gorgeous man walks into The Hideout one night while Eddie's bartending, and Eddie's absolutely determined to flirt with him. What follows is snapshots of the two of them growing closer and closer, all while Eddie's absolutely oblivious to the fact that Steve's secretly one half of the famous pop duo Scoops Troop.

This fic is a part of the @steddieholidayexchange

-----

The prettiest man that Eddie has ever seen walks through the door of the Hideout, and Eddie damn near drops the glass he was rinsing out. It's not like their town's small enough that Eddie could actually recognize everyone in it, and the Hideout gets enough business that Eddie doesn't know everyone who comes in, but still, he was not expecting to get hit in the face with that kind of handsome on his shift tonight.

Sure, the nearby resort is a particular favorite among the wealthy elite - Eddie even heard there was one douchebag pop singer who booked the entire place for two weeks in the spring, apparently just so he wouldn't have to associate with any other guests - but they usually stay on the resort. It's rare for any of them to venture out into the town itself.

Pretty boy is wearing a dark blue polo with Hawkins Hope in Action stitched in yellow across his shirt pocket, which Eddie definitely does not notice purely because he's admiring the way it stretches across his chest. He takes an empty seat at the bar, pushing one hand through his hair as he scans the chalkboard specials they've got on display.

"You think it's as soft as it looks?" Chrissy asks, nudging him with her hip as she joins him in absolutely not just staring at the guy from the backroom.

He huffs out a little laugh. "I think you've got a better chance at me than figuring that out, Chris."

Still, he's fully prepared to head out there and try on at least a little bit of charm, until Jeff comes up next to them.

"I think Chrissy should head out there for a while," he says.

Eddie turns to fix him with a betrayed look. "What? Come on, man, I said Chrissy had a better chance, not that I had no chance."

Jeff nods towards the guy. "Look at him, he's all on edge."

And it's true - the guy's perched on the bar stool like he expects to have to bolt at any minute, and he's started to hunch in on himself like he's trying to take up as little space as possible.

It's kind of sad, actually, which unfortunately doesn't make him any less cute.

"So?" Eddie asks.

"So you know I love you, man, but you can be kind of a lot," Jeff says apologetically.

Eddie gasps, whirling to face Chrissy. "Can you believe this?"

Her nose is a little crinkled, lips turned down the way she does when there's a hard truth she doesn't want to tell him. "You're not always the most soothing presence," she admits.

He lurches back dramatically, hand over his heart. "Complete and utter betrayal, from my own best friends no less."

Jeff pats him on the shoulder. "You'll get over it."

"You can talk to him next time," Chrissy offers.

Which, considering pretty boy is probably staying at the resort and not going to come back, is small consolation.

But, well. He's probably staying at the resort and not coming back, so Eddie guesses he really isn't losing out on much by not getting to talk to him.

At least he can enjoy the eye candy.

He keeps an eye on them at first, only partially because of said eye candy - Chrissy can handle herself, but if the guy is going to be the typical resort douche, Eddie won't hesitate to come back her up. Pretty boy starts to relax a little the longer he's there, though, and Chrissy's doing the genuine smile she does when she has a good customer, so he doesn't worry about it.

By the time the guy leaves, Eddie's heard the sound of them laughing a few times.

"His laugh is just as pretty as the rest of him," Eddie sighs to Chrissy as they watch him leave.

"His name is Steve," Chrissy replies. "He works for that charity that's booked the resort this weekend for a fundraising event."

"That explains what he was doing here," Eddie jokes. "I knew we wouldn't see a resort guest slumming it at the Hideout."

Chrissy rolls her eyes at him, but she doesn't disagree. "They work with kids in the foster care system," she says mildly. "They put on camps and events and things for the kids to come to, do fundraising to get money to support them. He spends most of his time with the kids.”

Eddie groans. “No, come on, that's not fair,” he whines. “Handsome and a pretty laugh and he works for a charity and it's for foster kids and he's likes spending time with them? He's gotta have some flaws. Maybe he's actually terrible with kids, maybe they all hate him.”

Chrissy giggles. “Maybe he leaves his wet towels all over the floor.”

Eddie nods. “Maybe he sings off key in the shower and it's awful and he won't stop.”

Chrissy gives him a little shove. “Well, Steve says they've booked the resort for a few camps and events throughout the rest of the year, so you'll have plenty of time to find out.”

“If he comes back,” Eddie points out.

“Oh, I have a feeling he'll come back,” she replies.

—

Steve comes back.

It's just him behind the bar tonight, with Gareth and Grant back in the kitchen, so Eddie spends a moment quietly collecting himself before he heads over.

Eddie shoots him a smile. "Hi."

"Hey," Steve returns, smiling at him in return - though it seems practiced, nothing like the soft, warm smile Eddie'd seen him give Chrissy when he left the other night.

Ouch.

"Chrissy's not working tonight," Eddie says, trying not to let his disappointment show.

Steve's face scrunches in confusion, a little furrow between his brow that Eddie has the immediate urge to reach out to try to smooth with his thumb.

What is wrong with him? He's usually way better at not letting customers get under his skin.

"Thanks for telling me?" Steve says, the end of the sentence raised up in a question like he's not quite sure he's giving the correct response.

"Just thought I'd let you know, in case you came back in hoping to see her again," Eddie says.

Steve's expression smooths out. "Oh. Nah, I just really liked the… atmosphere…"

He trails off, clearly aware of how what he's saying sounds, but Eddie makes a point of scanning around the bar anyway - it isn't empty, but it's not exactly crowded, either, occupied mostly by small groups who stick to themselves or solo patrons who are more interested in their drinks than engaging in conversation with other customers.

No one's paying the slightest bit of attention to them.

He cocks an eyebrow as he looks back at Steve, and now the smile he gets is a little less practiced, a little more genuinely pleased - maybe even a little teasing.

"Exactly," Steve agrees. "What's not to like about a place where nobody knows your name?

Eddie barks out a little laugh. "Not nobody," he returns. "It's Steve, right? I'm Eddie. What can I get you?"

He calls Steve's order of onion rings back to Gareth, then grabs a glass to get his beer.

"So, Chrissy said you work with the charity that rented out the resort?" he asks. "What do you do for them?"

Steve lights up a little at the question, which, unfortunately, makes him even prettier.

"I'm the activities director," Steve replies.

Eddie raises his eyebrows as he sets Steve's beer in front of him, inviting him to continue.

“I plan all the stuff for the kids to do at camp,” Steve clarifies.

His eyebrows go even higher. “That sounds exhausting.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Sometimes,” he admits. “But I don't, like, personally do all of them. Some of the other staff will take lead on things that interest them - like Nancy does journalism and writing workshops, and Lucas picked up basketball, Jon does photography, and Robin's doing film watching and analysis. We actually do a lot of partnerships, too, get people to come in and do guest spots leading activities for like a week.”

Right, Eddie's pretty sure he heard that Hawkins Hope was a celebrity sponsored charity. Makes sense why they're able to afford using the resort for things.

“So what do you take lead on, then?” Eddie asks, mentally hi-fiving himself for finding an effortless way to ask Steve about his interests.

He's pretty sure it doesn't go unnoticed, because Steve blinks at him for a moment before he gives him just a little bit of a smirk.

It's a good look on him, though, so Eddie doesn't mind one bit.

“Swimming,” Steve replies. “Mostly lifeguarding, if we're somewhere on the water, and I do lessons. Baseball in the summer. Ice skating in the winter. Music, sometimes. Cooking. I'll pretty much fill in whenever I need to.”

Eddie's not surprised that the majority of those were sports, but it does mean he flounders a little bit in the next step of his plan - find a common interest and get his flirt on. He's a decent enough cook, but it's not exactly something he does for fun. Which means he's got one option left, and he latches onto it eagerly.

“What kind of music?” he asks.

Steve watches him for a moment, like he's waiting for the punchline. Or waiting to be judged, maybe - maybe the guy only likes Top 40s and is used to being looked down on from guys wearing Dio t-shirts.

And all right, Eddie might judge him a little - but only teasingly, and only if he knew him better. So he just waits, hoping he looks as genuine as he means to.

“I'm not picky,” Steve says finally. “I can find the merit in just about anything. It's not about the genre to me - it's about how the song makes you feel, if you can connect with the lyrics or if the music stirs some kind of emotion in you that you didn't even know was there.”

Oh.

“I get that,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?” Steve asks.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees. “Like - it's not what I usually listen to, and it's not what people expect, but my mom loved Bluegrass and country. I hear it now and it makes me think of her. I still end up singing Hazel Dickens or Loretta Lynn when I clean the kitchen, makes me feel like she's there with me.”

And there's that soft, warm smile that Eddie'd briefly seen him give Chrissy - only now it's even worse because it's directed at him, and it keeps lingering.

“Yeah,” Steve says again, but this time it sounds like you really do get it.

“So, it, uh, sounds like you like what you do,” Eddie says.

“I love what I do,” Steve agrees. “What about you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Can't complain. I get a lot of freedom here, actually. I'm the one that comes up with most of the drinks on our specials list.”

That's usually the most he goes into it, but Steve's still looking at him, so much less closed off than he was when he first came in, and he leans in like he's interested.

So when Steve asks him to tell him more about it, Eddie does. How it's not what he thought he'd be doing after high school, but then, he hadn't really given a lot of thought to much of anything after high school while he was still there, too busy just trying to graduate. How he likes the people he works with and the Hideout itself, how much fun it is coming up with his own drinks, how he's gotten to the point where he can figure out the best drink for someone before they even know what it is themselves.

And all right, he'd maybe been bragging a little, maybe said that with just a little bit of a cocky smirk to see the reaction he gets, but he's still a little bit surprised when Steve picks up on it and gives it back.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. “Do me, then.”

Eddie smiles at him, pleased. “What's the first cocktail you order when you go somewhere new?”

“House special,” Steve replies immediately, shooting him a little smirk.

Eddie gives him a look.

“It's true!” Steve insists. “I can get an old fashioned or a margarita anywhere, but the house special is usually something unique.”

Eddie considers that. “What's your go to drink if you're making yourself something at home?”

“Lemon drop,” Steve says. “They're my best friend's favorite, I learned how to make them for her. It's the only drink I can pull off that isn't just popping a can of beer or pouring a glass of wine.”

Eddie hums. He already knows Steve's taste in beers, so - “Red or white wine?”

“White in the summer, red in the winter,” Steve replies.

“Whiskey or tequila?”

“Whiskey.”

“Apple cider or hot chocolate?”

“Apple cider.”

Eddie manages to fire off questions like that for a while, and Steve even plays along when he asks him something that clearly has little to do with his drink preferences - though Eddie is absolutely ready to spin a tale about how it's vital to know if someone is a summer or a winter person for flavor choices, and being a romance or a horror fan will tell him how adventurous they are if Steve questions it.

Steve doesn't call him on it, though he does raise one eyebrow and give him a little smirk at each one, which leads to Eddie dropping into his explanation, anyway.

He wants someone to appreciate his brilliance.

It makes Steve laugh, warm and a little surprised, like he hadn't been expecting it. “Does that excuse work?”

“I don't know,” Eddie admits. “I haven't tried it on anyone else. What do you think?”

Steve hums, eying Eddie up and down in a way that, ridiculously, makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “I could see it working. Depends on how good your drink ends up being.”

That gets Eddie back on more confident ground, and he points dramatically at him. “Prepare to be wowed.”

Steve's an autumn person who likes apple cider, whiskey, and action films, so Eddie makes him a spin on a whiskey highball with ginger ale, apple juice, and cinnamon simple syrup.

Steve takes one sip and immediately looks delighted. It's far from the first time that Eddie's gotten that reaction, but coming from Steve, well.

Eddie doesn't want to say that it makes his whole week, but it kind of makes his whole week.

“This is amazing,” Steve says. “You do this all the time?”

“Eh, just when I feel like showing off,” Eddie finds himself saying, which is true but is definitely not what he wanted to admit to.

Steve's finally looking reasonably relaxed, though, so he can't bring himself to regret it.

“I hope you know you've set yourself up for having to do this every time I come in,” Steve tells him.

Eddie grins. “I'm holding you to that. Better not see you getting drinks from one of the other bartenders here,” he teases.

He's joking - really, he is - but when Steve laughs and agrees, well.

Okay, maybe he kind of means it.

—

It's Eddie's day off, but he's at the Hideout anyway.

He'd feel more pathetic about that if it weren't for the fact that it's Jeff and Gareth's night off, too, and they're also at the Hideout.

It's a slower night, so they're just sitting at the bar drinking beer and heckling Grant while the regulars ignore them and their antics. Or, well, he and Gareth are heckling Grant - Jeff is shifting back and forth between taking their side and taking Grant's, claiming neutrality with a gleam in his eyes that says he knows exactly what he's doing.

Even though he's not working, Eddie still looks up on instinct when the door opens - and then grins when he recognizes Steve.

He flings himself around the other side of the bar, ignoring Jeff and Gareth's surprised exclamations, and very heroically manages to not immediately wave Steve over. He plans to wait until Steve's come to sit at the far corner of the bar, then slide on up to him, but - Steve sees him and immediately makes a beeline to grab a seat in front of him.

Oh.

“Hey, Eddie,” Steve greets with a smile.

“Hey, Steve, what can I get you?” Eddie asks.

“I don't know.” Steve raises an eyebrow at him, expression almost playful. “You're the expert, right? What can you get me?”

“What is happening right now?” Gareth asks, immediately squashing the little thrill Eddie'd gotten at Steve's words.

“What's happening right now is that I'm trying to serve an actual paying customer, so why don't you two go find a table to sit at and shoo,” Eddie grumbles at him.

“Come on, Gar, let's quit bothering Eddie,” Jeff says, pushing away from the bar and tugging Gareth with him.

Fuck, Jeff is Eddie's favorite forever, he's going to owe him -

“Eddie's apparently decided to throw in a little free labor for us tonight,” Jeff calls back as they saunter off towards an open table.

Never mind, Eddie hates him.

Steve's brow furrows, and he looks up at Eddie expectantly.

“It's my night off,” Eddie admits.

“Eddie!” Steve chides.

“It's just one drink,” Eddie protests.

Steve rolls his eyes at him. “Uh-huh. What if I wanted more than one drink, were you going to hang out here all night?”

“Maybe,” Eddie grumbles.

Steve laughs at him, but it's soft and - well. It might just be Eddie's wishful thinking, but it sounds almost fond. “Go hang out with your friends. You can get me next time.”

Eddie sulks for a moment - like they're friends, like Steve is scolding him over a stupid decision and Eddie's whining at him about how it totally makes sense, really.

Wait.

“Come sit at the table with us,” Eddie says. “I can give you recommendations on what to order.”

Steve hesitates. “Your friends won't mind?”

“Nah. They love heckling me, so I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. Come on, it'll be fun.”

Despite his words, Eddie's actually a little nervous that Steve won't get along with Jeff and Gareth, or that the tense, rigid way Steve had held himself when he first came to the bar will come back, but by the time Steve's two drinks in, he's folded almost seamlessly in with the three of them.

Jeff and Steve like the same baseball team, apparently, and he gets Gareth talking about ice skating in a way that makes him light up - a way that might make Eddie a little jealous, if Steve didn't keep catching Eddie's eyes and smiling at him.

Steve even gets a couple of their Lord of the Rings jokes, though he admits he hasn't read the books himself, just picked up on some things from the kids he used to babysit. The way he talks about this Dustin kid makes him sound more like a little brother than anything else, and it's really sweet.

Shit, he's probably not terrible with the kids. Maybe Eddie better hold out hope for the wet towels or the terrible shower singing.

It's probably pretty damn late when Eddie hears the door open, and glances over. The man walking in is unfamiliar, but he's looking around the bar with a sense of purpose that makes Eddie grimace.

“We're all up to date on our liquor license and everything, right?” Eddie asks in a low voice.

Jeff frowns at him. “Of course. Why?”

“Check your ten o'clock,” Eddie says, purposefully adding in a little flair like he's a spy operative keeping an eye out for the enemy. “He's just screaming off duty cop.”

Both Jeff and Gareth crane their heads to look, leaving Eddie to sigh internally, but Steve plays along, tipping his head in towards Eddie like they're sharing a moment.

Steve's face is so close to his that he can feel the soft puff of air on his cheek when he breathes out, can see the whites of his eyes as his gaze flicks towards the door. Then he grins, and Eddie can see the way it makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

Fuck, Eddie should be ridiculous around Steve more often.

“Retired cop, maybe,” Steve replies. “He's here for me. I, uh. I must have missed my curfew.”

Eddie looks back over at the guy, who must have spotted Steve, because he's making his way towards them.

“You still have a curfew?” Eddie teases.

“Shut up,” Steve says, but his smile hasn't faded.

“No, it's cute,” Eddie says. And honestly - it is. “Your dad is your ride when you've had a few too many to drink?”

Steve's eyes darken briefly. “My dad's an asshole,” he mutters, something cracked and bitter in his tone that Eddie's pretty sure wouldn't be there if Steve was entirely sober. “He wouldn't be caught anywhere near somewhere like this, or me in general.”

Well, shit, leave it to Eddie to open his mouth and accidentally step in it.

“Hey,” Eddie says, bumping his shoulder against Steve's. “Mine, too. Fuck ‘em, right? We're better off without them.”

“Better off without who?” Retired Cop asks as he stops in front of their table.

“Our terrible, horrible, no good, very bad fathers,” Eddie replies immediately, shooting Retired Cop what he hopes is a very charming grin.

It must be, considering Steve is back to smiling, and now he's looking at Eddie all soft and pleased.

Retired Cop grunts in what Eddie is going to optimistically assume is agreement.

“Hey, Hopper,” Steve greets. “This is Eddie, Jeff, and Gareth. Hopper's the head of security for Hawkins Heroes.”

“Among other things,” Hopper comments drily.

Eddie's going to guess those other things include picking up wayward activity directors when they stay out too late.

Steve looks a little abashed. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hopper grumbles. “Get your shit and let's get going.”

“Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys,” Steve tells them.

“You kidding?” Jeff asks. “It was great, man.”

“Come back any time,” Gareth agrees.

“I'll have a new drink ready for you,” Eddie promises.

Somewhat foolishly, considering he knows that Jeff and Gareth are going to tease him about that, but the smile he gets flashed at him is well worth it.

“I still gotta settle the tab,” he hears Steve tell Hopper as they head out, but he's too distracted by Jeff and Gareth's smirks to think anything of it.

“Not a word,” Eddie threatens before either of them can say anything.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” Gareth replies, batting his eyelashes at him instead of saying anything.

“Just let me know when you have the drink ready,” Jeff agrees mildly. “We can call it Steve's Special.”

Gareth and Jeff fistbump each other while Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves himself up out of his chair.

He ignores their laughter as he heads over April, who's behind the register at the moment.

“What's my damage for the night?” he asks.

“Your friend already paid,” she tells him.

“Okay?” He frowns at her, a little too tipsy to make any kind of connection between his question and her answer. “I mean, I'm glad he didn't duck out on his tab and leave me stuck with it, but I'd still like to pay mine?”

She rolls her eyes. “No, you moron, he paid for all of you.”

Eddie gapes at her. “He what?”

April smirks at him. “Guy that good looking, and he picks up the tab for you and those two? I'd hang onto him.”

Eddie's pretty sure his cheeks are bright red. He covers it up by muttering, “Son of a bitch. I'll get him for this.”

—

Steve's already at the bar when Eddie arrives for his shift that night, which instantly makes him perk up.

His crush on the guy is probably a little bit out of control, but eh, that's future Eddie's problem. Tonight Eddie gets the pleasure of some very nice eye candy all night, on top of the security of knowing he's going to have an awesome interaction with at least one patron.

Steve's clearly been there at least a little while, since there's a half eaten plate of loaded fries and a beer in front of him, and he's chatting enthusiastically with Grant.

Well.

Maybe chatting is the wrong word for it, now that Eddie gets a closer look at them.

Steve's leaning in, one elbow braced on the bartop with his gaze focused intently on Grant, as if he was the only person in the room. He's saying something in what must be a low tone, considering Grant's leaning back in to hear him. And is that -

Yup, that's a faint pink flush to Grant's cheeks.

Eddie gapes.

"Is Steve flirting with Grant?" he hisses the moment he finds Chrissy.

Chrissy rolls her eyes. "They got into an argument about pick up lines. Grant said pick up lines are shitty and cliche and don't work, and Steve insisted it's not about them being lines, it's about delivery and intention."

"So they're… flirting to prove a point?"

Damn it, why didn't Eddie think of that?

Chrissy's smiling at him, that sweet little grin she gives him when she knows exactly what's going on in his head. "Why don't you go over there and tell Steve where you sit on the pick up line debate?"

Eddie hip checks her, but, well.

It's not a bad idea.

He does go over, if only because he wants to say hi before he actually starts working.

He hears Grant laughing as he gets closer, but it sounds a little strained.

"Hey," Steve says quietly. "I meant all of it, you know. I wouldn't have said anything I didn't think was true. Any girl would be lucky to have you. Or, uh, guy, if you swung that way."

"You're kind of making me wish I swung that way," Grant teases, but there's something sincerely appreciative in his voice that tells Eddie that they'd been talking about more than just an argument about pick up lines.

If Steve could stop being so kind to his friends, that would really help out Eddie's stupid heart.

He tells himself very firmly to absolutely not think into the fact that Steve's apparently okay with guys dating other guys.

Instead, he stalks up to the counter as Grant walks away, pointing accusingly at Steve.

“I caught you!” he informs him. “What, did you think you could hide it from me? That I wouldn't notice? You're in so much trouble.”

Eddie's not sure what he's expecting, but it isn't for Steve's expression to completely crumble. He sags in the chair for a moment, then Eddie watches him visibly pull himself together, straightening up and looking solemnly at Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve says, very quietly. “How do you want to do this?”

And that - completely deflates the wind in Eddie's sails.

“You're not like, actually in trouble, dude,” Eddie tells him. “I just can't believe you thought you could pay our tabs and we wouldn't realize it.”

Steve's brow furrows, then smooths out. “Oh!”

It's clearly a startled little realization, which immediately makes Eddie narrow his eyes.

“What did you think I was talking about?” he asks.

“I, uh. I guess I just wasn't sure what I did to upset you?”

Eddie considers that. It's possible - but Steve hadn't looked confused, he'd looked resigned. Like there was a secret that he was keeping, and he hadn't been expecting to be able to continue to keep it, and he was pretty sure Eddie knowing it wasn't going to be anything good. But what could he -

And then he remembers that he walked over in the middle of Steve flirting with another guy, and clearly implying that he was okay with guys dating other guys, and -

And the first thing that Eddie said was that he caught Steve and he was in big trouble.

Shit.

“It, uh,” Eddie starts, then stops, pausing to think about how he wants to say this. “There's a rainbow flag pinned up at the corner of the bar.”

Steve gives him a tiny smile. “I noticed,” he says softly. “It's one of the things that made me come back here.”

“Really?” Eddie asks, immediately derailed. “It was my idea to put it up. I wanted people to know the Hideout is a safe space, even if it doesn't look like it.”

“It worked,” Steve tells him. “You're a good guy, Eddie, that was a great thought.”

Eddie flushes, ducking his head for a moment before he determinedly gets this conversation back on track. “So, uh, I just wanted to make sure you knew that none of the staff here are going to hassle you no matter what way you swing. Especially not me.”

Steve looks at him for a long moment. “Especially not you?” he repeats.

Eddie swallows, then nods. “Yeah.”

Steve's quiet at first. Then, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie nods again, letting the moment sit for a little bit. Then he shoots him a teasing little grin, tipping his head at the beer in front of Steve. “What you're really in trouble for is getting a drink from another bartender here.”

Steve smirks at him. “Oh, that's not mine. It's Robin's.”

“Robin?” Eddie asks.

“My best friend, the one who likes lemon drops? She came with me today, said she wanted to meet the guys who got me to stay out so late,” Steve replies.

Oh!

Eddie straightens up, looking around. “Where is she? I want to meet her.”

“She was going to the bathroom, but I think she got distracted on her way back,” Steve says drily. He nods over towards where Chrissy is talking animatedly with a girl he's never seen before. “So you might have to wait a bit on that.”

Chrissy's smiling in a way he hasn't seen her do in a long time, which immediately makes him like this Robin girl.

“Guess you're stuck with me until then,” Steve adds.

“Oh, no,” Eddie says, voice monotone. “However will I get over my disappointment.”

Steve laughs. “You can start by getting me a drink.”

Yeah, okay, Eddie guesses he can do that.

He's going to finish the night by making the best impression possible on Steve's best friend, though.

Even if his own best friend seems to have gotten there first.

—

It's D&D night the next time Steve shows up at the bar.

The other regulars are pretty used to it, by now, and seem content to let the D&D crews take over the back half of the bar, but Steve hasn't seen it before. He's not sure when he started thinking of Steve as a regular - can someone be a regular if he doesn't live here, even if he does seem to come in every time he's in town? - but that's beside the point.

D&D nights were Eddie's idea. He'd wanted to do something similar to what he did in high school, give them a safe place to be able to play - only this time, some place fun, where they'd be welcome as adults instead of laughed at for playing a "kid's game." Even the nights when he isn't playing or DMing, he has a lot of fun with coming up with campaign themed drinks.

It's stupid, but he's kind of nervous about what Steve thinks of it. It's not like anything's going to happen with Eddie's crush, but he enjoys it anyway, enjoys Steve's company. It's going to suck if Steve laughs at it.

Steve beelines for the corner of the bar where Eddie's at as soon as he sees him, which makes Eddie smile involuntarily, despite the clench in his stomach when he sees Steve staring intently at the group in the back.

"Is that Dungeons and Dragons?" Steve asks.

"You know D&D?" Eddie asks. His stomach is still clenching, but now it's in a very, very different way.

"Yeah," Steve replies, shooting him a little smile. "Some of my friends play it. We actually used to have it as an activity for the kids, but Mike and Will are at college and Erica had this huge project she needs to finish for school, so it's on hold now."

"Have you ever played?" Eddie asks.

"A couple of times," Steve replies. "I did, uh. The side characters? For the kids a few times. Do you play?"

"Yeah. I used to run a D&D club in high school, actually, and I started D&D night here."

"Dude, that's really cool," Steve says, so genuine that it makes Eddie want to hide behind his hair. "Oh, hey, I know it's kind of a lot to ask, but would you be interested in doing it for camp this week? Some of the kids coming have really missed it. We'd pay you for your time, of course."

Eddie opens his mouth, then closes it again. "You want to pay me to DM a D&D game for summer camp?"

"Yes?" Steve says, like he's not sure why Eddie's in a little bit of disbelief here. "Only it's October now, so not summer camp anymore."

Right, because that's the unbelievable part.

"You know what? Sure. Do you want a one shot, or a short campaign?" Eddie asks.

Steve's face scrunches a bit in confusion.

"How many days do you want me there?" Eddie clarifies.

"All of them?" Steve blurts out.

Eddie's eyes widen, and Steve's ears go a little pink.

"I mean, how many can you do?" Steve asks.

Eddie considers. He could use some extra cash, and he's really missed throwing himself into D&D - he actually thinks he has the perfect campaign, one he used leading up to Halloween back in high school. A few tweaks and he thinks it'll be perfect.

"How about four days, five hour sessions each? Is that too long for the kids?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. "Nah, I've seen them spend like ten hours playing before, five should be perfect. Come by the resort around noon tomorrow and I'll have the paperwork all ready for you?"

—

There's more security at the resort than Eddie remembers there being the handful of times that he's been there before.

Makes sense, he guesses, since there's more kids than adults there now. It'd probably look bad if the resort let just anyone onto the grounds and some of the kids got kidnapped or something. And if they've got celebrities coming in to get their good PR by volunteering, too, they've probably got to be at the top of their game.

Eddie must be on the approved list, though, because once he's shown his ID and proven who he is, he's given a “guest staff” badge, a map of the resort, and a list of which amenities he's allowed to use for the next week.

Nice. Steve hadn't mentioned that, but Eddie is definitely going to take advantage of it.

He's a little early to meet Steve, so he wanders around the inside of the resort instead, taking in everything.

Eventually he stumbles onto a lounge with a roaring fire and a massive plush sofa, occupied by a teenage girl and a bunch of textbooks.

“Can I help you?” she asks, for all the world like she's a busy executive behind a fancy desk and he's already wasting her time, instead of a teenager sprawled out on a couch doing her homework.

“I'm looking for Steve,” he says.

Her eyes narrow as she sits up. “Why?” There's an edge in her voice now, something a little bit protective.

That's kind of sweet, actually.

“I'm meeting him here about a temporary gig,” Eddie says. “Hi, I'm Eddie.”

Her expression shifts from wary to downright skeptical. “You're the DM who that hairbrain thinks will do a better job than me?”

Yeah, Eddie's taking back that sweet comment.

“You must be Erica,” he says.

“That's Lady Applejack to you,” she retorts with a sniff. “You better be at the top of your game, or I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow, agonizing death.”

Oh, fuck, Eddie likes this kid.

He raises one eyebrow at her. “I thought you had a big project that you're supposed to be working on?”

She stares right back at him, unimpressed. “You going to rat me out if I come play?”

Eddie hams it up a little, making a big show of thinking it over. Before he can tell her that obviously, he's the last one to give any kind of quibble about playing D&D instead of doing homework, the sound of heavy footsteps approaching echoes through the lounge.

“Hey, Erica?” Steve's voice calls, sounding a little strained. “Can you keep an eye out for Eddie, tell him I'm going to be a little late? I gotta - oh. You're here!”

Steve's rounded the corner, and now Eddie can see the reason for the heavier footsteps. He's giving a piggyback ride to a kid, who looks about eleven or twelve. The kid's face is screwed up in pain, and Eddie spots a bloody, skinned knee peeking through ripped jeans.

“Hey, man,” Steve greets. “Give me a minute? I've got to get this guy to the nurse.”

“I don't want to go see Nurse Henderson,” the kid sulks. “Can't you just patch it up yourself? Max is going to tell me I should have just walked it off!”

“Probably,” Steve admits. “But she'd also want you to get looked at if you're really hurt. And Nurse Henderson is the only one who's qualified to decide that, right? Besides, didn't we already talk about not doing stupid things just for a girl?”

“Especially for a girl like Max, who's way too old for me,” the kid replies, in a tone of voice that says, yes, he's heard all of this before. “Fine, I'll go to the nurse.”

“I'll keep Eddie company,” Erica volunteers.

Steve looks at her with narrowed eyes.

“I'm just making sure his campaign is up to snuff,” she informs him.

Steve relaxes, though he still cuts his gaze over to Eddie and waits for him to nod before he takes off.

Eddie tilts his head at Erica. “How would you feel about a little extra backstory? A little party betrayal, maybe?”

Her eyes light up. “I'm listening.”

By the time Steve comes back, Eddie and Erica and hunched over character sheets, and they've got a frankly amazing tie in for Lady Applejack into his slightly tweaked campaign.

“I take it things went well?” Steve asks.

Erica stuffs her character sheets into her folder. “He'll do.”

Eddie gets the feeling that's high praise, coming from her.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lady Applejack,” he says solemnly.

She rolls her eyes, but accepts the hug that Steve gives her, and Eddie's pretty sure he hears Steve whisper thank you.

“Come on, let's go see Joyce,” Steve says. “She's the director of Hawkins Hope, she's amazing. Then we can grab lunch after.”

“Are you bribing me with fancy resort food?” Eddie asks.

Steve grins at him. “Maybe.”

Joyce is amazing, but lunch with Steve is even better. Eddie makes a big deal of moaning over how good the food is, but really, making Steve laugh is the best part.

Yeah, Eddie's in way too deep.

—

"Eddie!" Steve greets when he comes into the Hideout a few days after the final session. He sounds a little bit breathless, and Eddie immediately smiles.

It's amazing how much having a favorite regular there improves his night, on top of the fact that he thinks he and Steve are actually friends now.

"Hey, man," he greets. "The kids all get where they're supposed to be okay?"

Steve looks at him like he did something amazing, instead of just asking a question that any decent human being would ask, but Eddie's not going to protest.

"Yeah, just the staff left now. Hey, I wanted to ask - we're doing a masquerade event on Halloween as a fundraiser. I mean, the event itself is going to be kind of shitty, catering to a bunch of semi famous people, but the staff are having an after party. Do you want to come?"

Eddie swallows, trying not to get his hopes up. "Me?"

"Well, yeah, you were basically staff this week, so you should come."

"Oh." Turns out it didn't work, not getting his hopes up, and now he's fighting disappointment.

Steve must take that for reluctance, though, because he adds, "Chrissy and Jeff and Grant and Gareth are all welcome too, so you don't have to worry about not knowing anyone there? Unless you guys already had plans."

"Nah, I think we were just going to hang out and watch shitty horror movies, I'm sure they'd rather go to an after party at the resort," Eddie says.

It sounds like a much better night than anything they had planned, even if it isn't what he thought Steve might be asking.

"Good! Uh, that's good." Steve looks uncertain for a moment, like he's having a debate with himself. Whatever it is, he must come to a decision, because he leans over the counter a little. "What about you?"

…okay, maybe he's not completely out of luck here.

"Me?" Eddie asks again, but this time he keeps his gaze locked on Steve's.

"You," Steve says again. "I was really hoping you'd come, Eds."

"Yeah? What do I get if I go?"

Steve smiles at him, this soft little hopeful thing, and his eyes drop briefly down to Eddie's lips. "I got a few things in mind."

Oh fuck, this is happening.

"Well now you've got me intrigued. I guess I better make an appearance."

Steve's expression lights up. “See you at the resort at ten?”

—

There's even more security when Eddie arrives at the resort on Halloween. He isn't driving - he's pretty sure there's going to be free alcohol tonight, and he's planning on taking full advantage of it - but the cab he and the others took gets stopped three times by security guards, and each time they have to show their IDs.

“Who the hell is going to the stupid masquerade?” Eddie grumbles after they finally get dropped off at a side entrance to the resort.

“Celebrities,” Gareth says with a roll of his eyes.

There's still a small crowd of people exiting the resort through the main entrance a little bit away, and despite the grumbling and eye rolling, none of them can help craning their heads just a little, to see if there's anyone they recognize.

There isn't - looks mostly like people with press badges and cameras.

There's a little bit of a commotion, though, and that makes them pause, just for a moment.

“He owes us!” someone is shouting. “One song for the bronze tier donors, that's it? What does Alistair think he's trying to pull?”

“Oh, wow,” Chrissy says. “I mean, I knew Alistair was the celebrity endorser for the charity, but I didn't think he'd be here tonight.”

Eddie shrugs. “Steve said it was for the semi famous.”

“Alistair and Hawk are a little more than semi famous,” Jeff points out.

There's more shouting at the front entrance that distracts them, though - looks like whoever it was that was complaining is getting very firmly escorted out to the parking lot by security.

“What are you losers still doing out here?” someone asks, and Eddie turns over to see Erica scowling at him from the side entrance.

He beams at her. “Lady Applejack, destroyer of Vecna, light of my life!”

Erica rolls her eyes. “Get your butts in here,” she orders, disappearing through the side entrance.

Eddie and his friends dutifully follow her, down a few hallways and into a massive ballroom that's all decorated in orange and black lights, fake cobwebs, swooping bats, and even a fog machine. There's about thirty or so people mingling about, but fortunately, she leads them to where Steve and Robin are standing together. They're both dressed in black tuxedos, but Robin has a twinkling gold halo crowned on her head and a pair of feathery wings, and Steve has a pair of devil horns. There's a cup of something bright orange in each of their hands.

Jesus, Steve looks even more gorgeous.

“Hey!” Steve greets, lighting up. “You guys made it!”

There's a round of greetings, finished by Steve pointing out the tables laden with food - some of it is clearly fancy shit that was probably left over from the masquerade, but a decent chunk of it is freshly made, mixed in with a ton of boxes of pizza and pitchers of various drinks.

“Come on,” Steve says, circling his fingers around Eddie's wrist and giving it a tug. “I want to introduce you to my friends.”

Steve leads him around the room, weaving through the small crowd and stopping whenever he finds someone. Eddie meets Jonathon Byers, Argyle, and Nancy Wheeler - Steve's ex, apparently, which throws him for a moment when he sees that they're clearly good friends.

Eddie can't imagine being friends with any of the small handful of exes he has.

Steve shrugs when he says as much. “Nancy and I are much better as friends,” he admits. “Our break up was… all right, it was pretty bad. But it was a long time coming. We just didn't work, you know? We wanted different things.”

“Not a great point in favor of you still being friends,” Eddie points out.

Steve laughs. “Nancy's amazing at what she does. She's an investigative reporter for her real job - she just volunteers here, because it's family. It's a lot easier being her friend.”

Eddie's not completely convinced, but he'll take Steve's word for it.

Nancy seems pretty great, anyway, when both of their circles of friends end up spending most of the party together. She and Robin and Chrissy keep ducking their heads together and giggling, and Jeff and Jonathon are having some kind of emphatic discussion about something Eddie doesn't really understand, and he's pretty sure Gareth and Grant and Argyle have snuck off somewhere to smoke weed.

Eddie's a little disappointed they didn't invite him, except, well, Steve's been pretty much plastered to his side the whole time, so he can't really complain.

“You want to get out of here?” Steve asks, when Eddie has definitely had too many candy corn jello shots to be effectively considering the ramifications of that question.

He agrees anyway, wholeheartedly, and hopes he doesn't come across as way, way too eager.

Steve is beaming at him, though, and he leads him out of the room.

“Let's go for a walk?” Steve suggests, which isn't quite where Eddie's mind had been going, but he can admit it's probably a better idea than anything he might have come up with.

So they grab their coats, and Steve winds a scarf around Eddie's neck even though Eddie insists it isn't that cold out.

He's pretty sure the scarf is Steve's, though - it smells like his cologne - so he doesn't actually try to stop him.

“This is definitely a date, right?” Eddie asks as they're walking along the path to the lake, their fingers laced together.

You know, just to make absolutely certain.

“Yeah, it's definitely a date,” Steve says with a little laugh.

“It's technically our fourth date,” Eddie points out.

There's a little furrow between Steve's brow as he frowns at him. “What?”

Eddie holds up his free hand so he can tick them off his fingers. “One, you bought me drinks and dinner at the Hideout.”

“I paid for Jeff and Gareth too!” Steve protests.

“Two,” Eddie says, ignoring him. “You bought me lunch at the resort.”

“We're staff, we get free lunch!” Steve says.

“Three, you invited me to go to a Halloween party with you. And four, moonlight walk by the lake,” he finishes triumphantly.

“Those are the same date!” Steve's clearly trying to sound exasperated, but he's grinning, so Eddie's calling it a win. “And the other two are like, half dates. So if you really want to, we can call this our second date.”

“Come on, sneaking away from the Halloween party to get time alone is at least worth a half date on its own.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, two and a half dates.”

Eddie pumps his fist in victory, but he doesn't get time to crow too much about it.

Steve kisses him for the first time out by the lake, leaves rustling in the wind and the reflection of the moon hanging heavy and orange.

It's perfect.

At the end of the night, after they've been gone from the party for so long that people have had to notice - though no one says anything - Steve gives him a piece of paper with his number on it.

“You don't have to call me,” Steve tells him, like there's any chance that Eddie won't use it immediately. “But I'd like it if you did.”

Eddie steals a pen and paper from the front desk, sprawls down his own phone number and shoves it at Steve.

“Here,” he says. “So you'll know it's me when I call you as soon as I get home.”

—

Eddie expected it to be a little awkward, trying to keep up a relationship - or whatever this is, is it a relationship when they've only had two and a half dates? - via phone, but it really isn't. Steve remembers his work schedule, and he calls him every day after he gets home from work, and it -

It's almost as good as having him there. They talk about their days, about everything and nothing, and it's so fucking good it helps distract him from knowing he's not going to be able to see Steve in person again until December.

Or at least, he wasn't supposed to see him until December.

But about a week after Steve's gone, when he's hanging out with Chrissy and trying to pretend like he doesn't miss him an unreasonable amount, Eddie asks, “Who is Alistair, anyway?”

Chrissy raises her eyebrows at him. “You don't know?”

Eddie shrugs. “It hasn't come up.”

“Scoops Troop?” Chrissy asks, like that's supposed to mean something. “The pop duo?”

And yeah, all right, the name sounds vaguely familiar, but it's not anything that Eddie looks for, and he shrugs again. “I mean, sure, I've probably heard some of their songs on the radio.”

She rolls her eyes. “You're ridiculous. I have a poster of Alistair in my bedroom, it's your favorite one. You've listened to him with me, he does that cover you really like, the one you said at least he wasn't a coward who changes the gender when he covers female songs.”

Shit, okay, yeah, now Eddie knows who she's talking about. He remembers that poster - a blown up shot of the pop star wearing a pair of tight jeans with the button popped, bare chested, head tilted back so all you could see was the line of his neck and the underside of his chin. He remembers sitting with Chrissy a year or so after they graduated high school, listening to one of his albums, hearing the guy sing about how it feels to watch the man he loves kiss some other girl, remembers how the song had stuck with him.

Huh. Handsome, good singer, funds charities - maybe he should have given more of his songs a chance.

“Oh,” Eddie says.

Chrissy laughs softly. “Yeah, oh. Should I tell Steve to watch out for your crush?”

Eddie bumps his shoulders into hers. “Steve is prettier,” he says confidently. “And sweeter, and funnier, and - everything-er.”

He does know to cut himself off before he starts going into too much detail, though, and instead he flops down on his bed.

“What's his deal, then? You have a poster, you probably know some things.”

Chrissy shrugs, flopping down next to him. “He's pretty private. Teenage pop star, made it big pretty quickly, had a huge, blow up falling out with his manager and record label. Went quiet for a while, made a massive comeback with a new manager and label as part of a duo with Hawk.”

Eddie hums softly. Nothing all that interesting - or nothing out of the ordinary from things he's read about in the music industry before.

“What was the blow up about?” he asks, curious. He could go look it up himself, of course, but it's easier to ask Chrissy.

“Something about his manager and label mismanaging his earnings. There was some kind of scandal back then about exploitation of child stars, it's why you don't see Harrington Studios or Brenner Talent Acquisition around much anymore.”

Jesus.

“Wait,” Eddie says. “Harrington Studios? Like Steve Harrington?”

Chrissy frowns. “Maybe?”

“Shit, Steve did say his dad was an asshole who wouldn't want to be anywhere near him,” Eddie says. “I wonder if that's why Steve cut ties.”

“You could call him and ask him,” Chrissy says mildly. “Didn't he say he and Robin were just going to be hanging around at home the next few days?”

Eddie narrows his eyes at her. “You just want to talk to Robin,” he protests, even though he's already picking up the phone.

Steve and Robin are home, and Steve sounds so happy to hear from him that Eddie almost immediately forgets everything else.

“I miss you,” Eddie says before he thinks better of it, before he wonders if maybe that's too much.

“I miss you too,” Steve says immediately, sounding a little bit relieved - like maybe he was worried it was too much, too. “I wish I could see you.”

“Hawkins isn't too far from here,” Eddie points out. “And I've got a guest room.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, his voice a little soft, a little hopeful.

“Yeah. Come stay the night, we'll get pizza and watch bad movies.”

Steve hums a little like he's considering it, but it's playful, and Eddie's pretty sure he's going to say yes. “Are we counting this as a whole date, or is this another half date?”

Eddie breaks out into a grin. “Half date,” he decides. “That'll bring us up to three, and tomorrow we can make four.”

“Deal,” Steve agrees. “See you soon.”

Steve kisses him the second he and Robin arrive, crowding him in against the wall in the narrow hallway like it's been so much longer than a week since they last saw each other.

“Hi,” Steve murmurs when they break for air.

“Hi,” Eddie replies breathlessly, smiling so wide it hurts.

They end up squished together on the couch, Steve and Robin in the middle with Eddie and Chrissy on either side of them. After the pizza's gone, and they're mid way through their second movie - Eddie glances over, sees Robin's feet tucked under Steve's thigh, Steve's hand curled loosely around her ankle, Chrissy's head pillowed on Robin's shoulder.

Which sounds like a fantastic idea, actually, and he squishes down so he can lean into Steve's chest, Steve's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Later, after the girls have disappeared into the guest room and Steve and Eddie are getting ready for bed, Steve seems… nervous, almost, as they climb under the covers.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks.

“There's things you don't know about me,” Steve admits quietly. “Important things.”

Things like his dad owning a record label and working with a manager who exploits children, Eddie'd guess. Not a great thing for a guy who now works so closely with kids.

But Eddie trusts him.

“Hey,” he says softly. “It's okay. I mean, you don't know everything about me either, right? We're only at date three. It's okay if you want to take this slow, to get to know each other before we jump into the messy stuff.”

Steve looks like he's thinking about that. “That's okay?”

“Yeah, of course. If you want to feel each other out, keep this low commitment, even see other people, that's fine.”

It's not really fine, but now Eddie's said it, so he can't take it back.

Steve frowns at him. “I don't want to keep this low commitment,” he protests. “Eds - I'm in this. I don't want to date anyone else.”

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little shaky.

Steve's expression shutters a little. “Did you want to?”

“No!” Eddie replies, a little too quickly. “No, of course not. I just didn't want to pressure you. I, uh, I'm in this too.”

“Good.” Steve tips his head in to kiss him softly. “But - maybe slow is good? I haven't really had a serious relationship since Nancy and I broke up.”

“It's been a while for me, too,” Eddie admits. “…is it bad that it kind of makes me feel better? That we're both figuring this out together?”

Steve snorts. “Nah. Not bad. I kind of like the idea of figuring things out with you.”

—

“Hey, Munson!” April shouts from the office, when he's elbow deep in sudsy water doing the dishes. “You got a phone call!”

“Who is it?” Eddie yells back. He doesn't want to lose his groove if it's just a crank call, or one of his friends with something far from urgent.

“Some guy named Steve! Want me to tell him to get lost?” she asks.

“No!” Eddie yelps immediately. Then, in what he hopes is a calmer voice, “No, I'll come get it.”

He dries off his hands, passes April on the way to the office and has to put up with her smirking at him, but he pointedly ignores her.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie greets, already feeling himself smiling.

“Hey,” Steve says back. “Am I interrupting a busy shift?”

He sounds - just a little bit off. Almost like his normal self, but more like he's forcing himself to sound normal.

Eddie frowns. “Even if you were, it'd be a welcome interruption. What's up?”

“It's nothing really important,” Steve says. “I just - wanted to hear your voice, I guess.”

Oh.

Eddie lets himself feel soft and gushy over that for a moment before he leans out to shout, “April, I'm taking my lunch!” and closes the door to the office.

“Eds, you don't have to do that,” Steve protests. “I just wan-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie cuts him off gently. “I can tell something's wrong. Taking my lunch is nothing - I'd drive to Hawkins right now to see you if you wanted.”

Eddie can Steve breathe out, a slow, ragged exhale.

“What happened?” Eddie asks.

“My dad happened,” Steve mutters.

Shit.

“Well, if anyone gets how hard it can throw you off when your shitty dad pops back up in your life, it's me,” Eddie says. “You want to talk about it?”

Steve's quiet for a moment. “I don't know why I let him still get to me,” he says after a while. “He didn't even talk directly to me. He hasn't tried to reach out since I cut him off, but he still knows exactly what to say to get under my skin, and he knows where to do it so it'll get right back to me. God, it's so stupid. I don't even care about his opinion, but…”

“But he's your dad,” Eddie finishes for him when he trails off. “Even if he's terrible, even if you don't want to be anything like him, even if you don't really want his good opinion, it's always going to matter a little.”

There's another exhale, though this one's tinged with something like relief. “Yeah. Exactly.”

“What'd he say?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts. “Just the usual shit. I'm not living up to my potential, I'm wasting my time on publicity stunts, I've lost sight of what's really important.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “Your dad really is an asshole.”

“Grade A,” Steve confirms.

“You sure you don't want me to drive down there?” Eddie offers.

“Nah,” Steve says, though Eddie can hear a smile in his voice. “I'm with Robin. She just went to pick up dinner, she should be back soon. Just, uh. Like I said, I wanted to hear your voice. It always makes me feel better.”

“You can't say stuff like that to me when you're not in kissing range,” Eddie teases. Mostly to cover up the way it makes his heart beat a little too fast.

“Sorry,” Steve replies, not sounding apologetic at all.

“Uh-huh,” Eddie says. “I'll still stay on the phone with you until Robin gets back. What do you want me to talk about?”

Steve hesitates for a moment before asking, “Is it too much to ask about what happened the last time your dad popped up?”

Part of Eddie wants to say that nothing Steve could ask him for would be too much, but he does the responsible thing and actually thinks about it before he answers.

“I was seventeen,” he says, once he's decided that yeah, he's okay with Steve knowing this. “I'd been living with my Uncle Wayne for almost five years. He blows back into town, claims he has something of my mom's that she'd always wanted me to get, before she got sick.”

“What was it?” Steve asks.

Eddie snorts. “Nothing. I already had everything of hers that she left behind. He didn't realize I'd already emptied out the old house after he left the last time. But he said he missed me, said he needed me. That he really wanted it to be the two of us this time, the way we always talked about when I was younger and he was teaching me things.”

Steve makes a little encouraging noise.

“Shitty things,” Eddie clarifies. “Other dads taught their kids how to fish or play ball, but mine? He taught me how to hotwire cars. Even at seventeen, he had me convinced. I wanted to believe him so bad, I went along with his idea. Ended up with him skipping town and me in a jail cell taking the fall. My uncle had to come bail me out.”

“I'm sorry, Eddie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie shrugs, even though Steve can't see him. “It's not your fault.”

“That's not why I'm sorry,” Steve retorts, in a tone that Eddie knows means he's rolling his eyes. “I'm sorry that he couldn't see how amazing you are. You deserve better.”

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. “So do you,” he replies. “Fuck our dads, all right?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees empathetically. “Fuck ‘em. Who needs them when we have people who actually give a shit about us?”

Eddie wishes they were together, so he could take Steve's hand or tug him in for a hug or something, to make it clear that Eddie is one of those people who gives a shit about Steve.

“Yeah,” he settles for saying. “You can call me anytime, you know that, right?”

“I do now,” Steve says softly. “Thanks, Eds.”

Fuck.

“Any time,” Eddie managed to get out.

“You too, okay? Any time. Even if I don't answer right away, I'll always call you back.”

—

Eddie's pulling his boxes of Christmas decorations out of the storage space off of his little balcony when he notices one of the boxes is damaged.

He's not sure what happened. Water leaking, maybe, or maybe just the box giving out, but it's sagging in on itself, and when Eddie opens it he - he sees the remains of some of his oldest Christmas decorations. The ones that belonged to his mom.

Eddie stares at them for a long time, fighting back tears, and then goes inside to call his boyfriend.

“Hey, Stevie,” he says when he gets his answering machine. He doesn't even bother trying to sound like he isn't bummed. “It's not urgent, just - some of the Christmass stuff I had from my mom got wrecked. Guess I just wanted to hear your voice. Give me a call when you get this, yeah?”

There's an awkward pause that he almost fills with love you, before he hangs up real quick so he doesn't end up going there on a fucking voicemail of all things.

He doesn't really know how long it's going to be before Steve's able to call him back, and it's stupid to just wait around waiting, but… he can't actually bring himself to do the only thing he had planned today and get the Christmas decorations up.

Eddie's still dithering around hours later when the doorbell rings, and he considers ignoring it and pretending he isn't home. He's not in the mood to be any kind of good company, after all.

But then he hears Steve's voice calling his name through the door, and he's on his feet and opening it up before he knows it.

“You're here,” Eddie says, a little gobsmacked.

Steve shifts his weight, looking a little hesitant. “Is that okay? I mean, I know you said you wouldn't mind driving down to Hawkins for me if -”

Steve cuts off, because Eddie's dragged him inside the apartment and pressed him against the back of the door, doing his level best to kiss him senseless.

“It's not too much?” Steve manages to ask in between kisses.

“It's so far from too much,” Eddie returns.

Eddie's not really sure he knows what to do with someone who drove all the way here just for him, just because he was sad, but Jesus, he's not going to complain about it now.

They're both a little disheveled by the time they manage to get away from the door, and Steve gives him a tentative little smile.

“I brought you this,” Steve says, holding something out to him.

Eddie takes it, and it's - a copy of Loretta Lynn's Country Christmas. A signed copy. A signed copy specifically addressed to Eddie, wishing him a merry Christmas and a wonderful holiday season.

He looks back up, gaping at Steve a little. “Steve?”

“It was supposed to be your Christmas present,” Steve says. “But I thought - maybe you could use it now.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie's pretty sure he's really close to crying. He squeezes his eyes shut, taking a ragged breath.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

He sets the album down, then practically launches himself at Steve, folding him into his arms and hugging him tight. Steve lets himself be held, sinking into the embrace and hugging him back just as strong.

Eventually, when Eddie's reasonably certain he's not in danger of crying - or blurting out a love confession - Eddie pulls back.

“How long are you here for?” he asks.

Steve shrugs. “I don't have any where to be now. I finished work up early, so I've got a few days before we have to get started on winter camp and the Hawkins Hope Christmas gala.”

“Stay here?” Eddie asks, even though he's a little afraid he's pushing it. The guy drove here for him after one upset voicemail, he's pretty sure he's not going to be turned off by the suggestion of staying over a few days.

“Shit, yeah, I'd love to. You want me to help decorate?” Steve offers.

Eddie swallows past the lump in his throat and nods. “Yeah, that'd be great.”

He puts on Loretta Lynn, and before he knows it he's laughing along with Steve as they bicker about where to put some of the decorations and immediately agree on others.

It's a much better day than Eddie could have ever imagined.

—

“How'd you guys even find this place?”

It's mid December, and the Hawkins Hope crew officially have the resort for the rest of the year.

Which means Eddie's been hanging out there pretty much all of his days off, to the point where the security staff don't even bother to check his ID anymore. They just let him waltz right into the resort to meet Steve at one of the lounges.

Or in the room Steve's staying in, which is where they're at now.

“We rented it out for a couple of weeks back in the spring. Or I guess, technically Scoops Troop did, but when Joyce saw it we figured it would be the perfect place.”

“That was you guys?” Eddie asks. “I figured it was some doucebag pop singer.”

“Well, I guess you'd be kind of right, depending on how you feel about Scoops Troop.” Steve says it too casually, like he's trying to pretend that he doesn't care about Eddie's response - but he clearly cares about Eddie's response.

Eddie hums softly. “How do you feel about Scoops Troop?”

“Hawk is fantastic,” Steve replies immediately. “She's so, so talented, she could do just about anything, you know? She's funny, and so damn smart, she's just amazing.”

Briefly, Eddie wonders if he should be jealous, but nah. Steve'd sounded similar to the way he does when he talks about Robin, and Eddie knows there's nothing going on there.

“What about Alistair?” Eddie asks.

Steve gives a one shouldered shrug. “I don't think my opinion really matters all that much.”

“Of course it matters, Stevie, your opinion always matters,” Eddie says.

Steve smiles at him, soft and fond. “Thank you.”

Eddie waits, but apparently Steve is going to play hard to get on the subject of Alistair. “Do you like him?”

Steve shrugs again. “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, squirming a little so he's draped across Steve's lap, staring up at him expectantly.

Steve huffs out a little laugh, carding his fingers through Eddie's hair.

“It was touch and go there for a little bit,” Steve admits. “There was some pretty dicklike behavior going on for a while.”

Eddie gives a dramatic gasp. “A teenage idol? Being a dick? You don't say.”

There's another little laugh, which Eddie's going to count as a win.

“And now?” Eddie asks. “The charity thing, is that all a cover?”

“Nah,” Steve says. “That's genuine. You go through some shit, get a couple of good thumps on the head, it can change your perspective on a lot of things. Makes you realize what's important, and what's just bullshit, you know?”

It sounds like Steve's speaking from experience, and Eddie makes a little encouraging noise.

“My dad did some pretty shitty things to some of my friends,” he says quietly. “And to me. There was a time when I was probably too much like him. I mean, I wasn't ever that bad, but - I put popularity and shit above the things that really mattered.”

“It's hard to imagine you like that,” Eddie says.

Steve frowns a little. “Really?”

“Well, okay, you're kind of a preppy jock, and back in high school I would have thought you were a huge asshole. But I mean, I was kind of a dick back then, too. I probably would have judged you without even knowing you. And now, knowing you? Shit, you're amazing, Steve.”

Steve swallows, leaning down to kiss him.

“I kind of like that you don't know a lot about Alistair,” Steve admits quietly.

“Really?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Most of the people that I work with, aside from the core staff? They're in this because it's a good look for them, or because of their connections with Scoops Troop. You're one of the few who helped out just because of the kids.”

“You guys did pay me,” Eddie points out.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, but you said yes before you even knew how much. It wasn't because of some celebrity, it was just because you're a good guy.”

Something squirms around in Eddie's gut, in a way that he can't decide is good or not. Don't get him wrong, Steve telling him he's a good guy's got his heart beating a little quicker, but he also feels like Steve's got the wrong impression of him.

“I mean, I also did it because you asked me to,” he says, before Steve goes thinking it was entirely selfless. “And you're the prettiest guy I've ever seen.”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “You agreed to help out just to get paid and to get in my pants?”

“Well, not just that. It worked though, didn't it?”

There's another laugh, and Steve jostles him with his knee a little. “Seriously, though. There's not a lot of people in my life that aren't here because of Alistair.”

It's Eddie's turn to swallow. “Well, now you've got me.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, still far too serious. His eyes are so intense as he looks down at Eddie, like he's seeing straight through him - like he's on the verge of saying something big, something maybe too big.

“So what are you going to do with me, then?” Eddie asks, light and teasing, wiggling his eyebrows.

It works to break the moment, though Steve's still looking at him almost too closely.

“Keep you,” Steve says. “If you'll let me.”

Jesus Christ.

“Yeah,” Eddie replies. “Yeah, I'll let you.”

—

The sound of a piano playing draws him down one of the resort hallways, smiling softly as he recognizes it as a Billy Joel song.

“La, la-la, di-di-da,” echoes along with the notes of the piano. “La-la di-di-da da-dum.”

He follows the sound, until he reaches another one of the resort's many little lounging areas. This one has the customary fireplace, wide open windows with gorgeous scenery, and cozy seating. It also has a baby grand piano, and Eddie's a little shocked to see Steve sitting at it, eyes closed as he plays.

“Sing us a song, you're the piano man,” Steve croons. His voice is a little raspy, a little rough, low and soft and so fucking gorgeous that it makes Eddie catch his breath. “Sing us a song tonight. Well, we're all in the mood for a melody.”

“And you've got us feeling all right,” Eddie chimes in.

Steve's eyes fly open, and he looks a little panicked for a moment before his gaze catches on Eddie. The tension in his body relaxes a little, though there's something about him that seems a bit wary.

It makes Eddie feel like maybe he shouldn't make a big deal about this, shouldn't exclaim that he didn't know Steve could play or tell him that he should sing more often.

“Practicing for a music activity with the kids?” Eddie asks.

Steve's expression lights up with a smile, and Eddie immediately feels like he's said the right thing.

Which isn't all that common of an occurrence, honestly. Makes it feel pretty damn good that he just about always gets it right with Steve.

“Doing a piano lesson later,” Steve says.

“And you're going to teach them Billy Joel?” he asks.

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “Christmas carols, actually. I was just trying to warm up a little.”

“Don't mind me,” Eddie says, plopping down at the bench next to him and leaning against him. “Warm up away. Hey, you play one I know, and I'll even sing.”

Steve's expression goes contemplative for a moment. “How about we sing together?”

“You don't have to,” Eddie says a little guiltily, kind of worried that he'd made him feel pressured.

Steve shakes his head. “I want to. What's your favorite Christmas song?”

“Carol of the Bells,” Eddie says immediately.

Steve barks out a little laugh.

“What?” Eddie demands, bumping his shoulder. “It's a good one!”

“I know,” Steve says. “It's my favorite, too. It's just not a great dueting song.”

“Nah, come on, give me some notes. We got this,” Eddie insists.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his fingers dance over the keys as he starts playing.

“Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells, all seem to say, throw cares away.” Eddie's not exactly singing so much as he's whispering the words into Steve's ear, lips brushing up right against his skin.

It makes Steve's breath catch. He tips his head to face Eddie, playing without looking.

“Christmas is here, bringing good cheer, to young and old, meek and the bold,” Steve whisper sings back. Even like this, he sounds good - Eddie can tell he must have gotten some training, but with who Steve's dad is, he's not surprised.

Eddie kind of figures that's why any musical ability Steve has would be a sore subject, so he doesn't ask about it. “Ding dong ding dong, that is their song, with joyful ring, all caroling.”

“One seems to hear, words of good cheer,” Steve sings, lips so close to Eddie's that they're practically breathing the same air. “From everywhere, filling the air.”

Steve joins him in singing, “Oh how they pound, raising the sound,” their voices melding together in a way that Eddie's not sure is technically good, but fuck it feels downright magical.

They make it through a few more verses like that, but Steve kisses him before they finish out the song, and they're too distracted to get back to it.

Really, it's not like Eddie's going to complain.

Steve's amazing with the kids, he's clearly not a terrible shower singer, and Eddie's not holding out much hope for the wet towels on the floor at this point.

Eddie just doesn't know how he got so lucky.

—

When Eddie opens the door, Chrissy immediately smacks him with a magazine, but doesn't say anything until she and Jeff have pushed their way into his apartment and shut the door behind them.

Eddie blinks at them, bewildered.

“When were you going to tell us?” she asks in a low, excited whisper.

“Tell you what?” he asks.

“He probably swore you to secrecy, right?” Jeff asks.

“Can we talk about it now that we know?” Chrissy says. “Oh, wait, you probably had to sign an NDA or something, right?”

Jeff makes a face. “Are we going to have to sign an NDA?”

“An NDA about what?” Eddie demands.

Chrissy thrusts the magazine at him, shaking it until he takes it.

Oh.

That's Steve and Robin on the cover, wearing matching Christmas sweaters, with glitter on their eyelids and cheeks and snowflakes in their hair.

He can feel his expression go a little dopey and fond, but hey, how is he supposed to help it?

Eddie assumes it's some kind of article about the Christmas gala Hawkins Hope is throwing, but the caption of the picture catches his eye as he's looking up.

Christmastime With Scoops Troop! Alistair and Hawk spill about their holiday traditions.

It's not until Eddie hears Chrissy saying, “Oh” and Jeff going, “Oh shit, you didn't know,” that Eddie realizes he's gaping.

Eddie slams his jaw shut. “No,” he says tightly, feeling a sharp stab of hurt covered up immediately by a blinding rush of anger. “No, I didn't know that my boyfriend is famous. Apparently that's something that he didn't feel was important to tell me.”

He throws the magazine down onto the couch, stalking around the living room. “Apparently Alistair likes to play games with poor, hick bartenders, make them think they've found something amazing, while Mr. Famous Douchebag is probably off laughing with his other celebrity friends about what an idiot I am.”

“Eddie,” Chrissy says, sounding a little shocked. “I don't know if that's fair.”

“Fair?” Eddie demands. “Fair would have been leaving me the hell out of however he gets his rocks off. It wasn't coming into the Hideout again and again, hanging out with us and getting to know us, all the time keeping something like this!”

“Hey,” Jeff cuts in. “Come on, man, Steve didn't owe us anything then. He was just a guy coming into a bar to get some drinks, getting along with the staff there.”

Eddie snarls, because he wants to be as furious as possible, and he isn't thrilled that Jeff's making a logical point. “Fine,” he concedes. “But he owed me something. He should have told me what I was getting into before I got too deep. I don't - what, was his plan to just keep quiet about this forever and hope I wouldn't find out? How stupid does he think I am?”

Chrissy and Jeff are silent at that, but that just deflates Eddie more than if they had tried to argue with him.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asks.

“Do you want to break up with him?” Chrissy asks.

Eddie startles. “No!” Then he pauses, considering. “I don't know.”

“You don't know?” Jeff prompts.

“What if all of this was a game? What if he never liked me at all, and he was just a celebrity asshole having some fun?”

“What if it wasn't?” Chrissy counters gently. “What if he's just a guy who found someone he really liked and was too scared to tell him about this?”

Eddie drops down into the couch, burying his head in his hands. “I have to talk to him, don't I?”

—

Eddie goes to talk to him.

He asks the resort staff to let Steve know that he's here, waits around in the front entrance until one of the staff tells him they got the go ahead to let Eddie wait in Steve's room.

Eddie's sitting on the bed when Steve there.

“Eddie? Are you okay, they told me you-” Steve cuts off, and Eddie's going to assume that he saw the magazine in Eddie's hands.

He can't bring himself to look up to see him, to check for sure.

“Was any of it real?” he asks. His voice comes out rough, though he manages not to sound like he's on the verge of tears.

“God, Eds, of course it's real, how can-”

“Don't,” Eddie cuts him off, harsh and sharp.

Steve makes a little wounded sound before he falls silent, and this time Eddie can't help but look up at him.

Steve looks - he looks like a fucking wreck. His eyes are wet and sad, and he looks like everything that he'd been trying to balance on his shoulders has come crashing down. Eddie wishes he could say with confidence that the guy he knows, the guy he's fallen in love with, is the same guy he's seeing now, is who Steve really is.

Still, Eddie isn't here to purposefully hurt him. Chrissy and Jeff had talked sense into him - he just wants answers.

“I don't think it's fair for you to act like I'm out of line for doubting that,” Eddie says.

Steve crumples like a wet paper bag.

“You're right,” he says, which honestly - Eddie wasn't expecting. “It's not fair, I'm sorry. Of course you'd think that if I was hiding this, what else wasn't I telling the truth about?”

Eddie rolls up the magazine to hide how his hands want to shake, crinkling it with the force of his grip. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“Not at first,” Steve admits, lips twisted in a humorless little smile. “This summer, I just - it was nice, spending time with people who had no idea who I was. I thought that would be it, but then the more time I spent with you, the more I fell for you, and by the time I realized I didn't want to let you go, I was afraid. Afraid of your reaction, afraid of what it would mean for us. There's so many people that think they know me as Alistair, and so few that know the real me. I knew, just - even if you didn't hate me, even if you still wanted to be with me, things were going to change. I wouldn't just be Steve anymore.”

“But… you are Alistair. I'm not getting the real you unless I can have both.”

Steve swallows. “Do you want both?”

Eddie blinks at him, a little thrown. “What kind of question is that?”

“Most people want to date Alistair, the pop singer. I haven't had anyone since Nancy who knew me as Steve first, and I - I don't know. I kind of thought it would work the other way, too,” Steve admits. “That you wouldn't want any part of Alistair.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him. “Dude, you keep talking about Steve and Alistair like they're different people. They're both still you, right? I mean, sure, you've got to put on a different front when you're out there with the press and the celebrities, but we all do that a little. You think I act the same way with most customers that I do with you?”

“I - no. Okay, well, I hope not,” Steve adds, just a little bit teasing.

“Definitely not,” Eddie says, giving him the tiniest smile. “So if you're really in this, I want you to be in it. I don't want you to have to hide something so huge from me. I think I deserve the chance to know all of you.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. “You're right. You're - yeah. If you still want this, if I didn't fuck everything up, then I promise no more secrets.”

Eddie lets out a slow, ragged exhale. Then, “It was real, right?”

“Every bit of it,” Steve says. He inches closer, then when Eddie doesn't stop him, he comes to sit next to him.

“Everything I've told you is true,” Steve says solemnly. “It's okay if you can't believe that yet. I promise I'll work really hard to show you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Maybe I'm stupid, but I do believe you. There's a lot of things that make sense now.”

Thinking back on it - he doesn't think Steve ever actually directly lied to him, not once. Just by omission.

“Fuck, your dad is even worse than I thought,” Eddie swears. “I assumed you guys had a falling out because he fucked over your friends, but he fucked over you.”

“And my friends,” Steve says. “Jane, Hopper's adopted daughter - she got it the worst. I mean, it was mostly our manager, Brenner, who was the real piece of work, but it's not like my dad gave a shit.”

“Fuck him even more,” Eddie mutters. “Am I allowed to ask what happened? Will I have to sign an NDA or something?”

Steve huffs out a little laugh. “No NDAs, and yeah, you can ask. Hopper and Joyce were the ones that uncovered a lot of it, at first, and then Nancy and Jonathan did this massive push and got all the details to leak to the press. They're in investigative journalism half because of how good of a job they did. Robs and I both almost quit music after, but Joyce and Hop knew this guy who was a really good manager, and Murray knew Dimitri who had a small record label, and it just… fell together.”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “Hopper's your head of security, isn't he?”

Steve grins. “And the security for Hawkins Hope, but yeah, mostly me and Robin. Jonathan also does most of our pictures for album covers and stuff, and Argyle actually handles our PR.”

Eddie hums. “Wait, why didn't I have to sign an NDA? What if I was secretly a reporter just pretending to be a bartender?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “But you weren't.”

“What if I was?” Eddie insists. “Or, okay, what if it didn't work out and I was the kind of guy who liked petty revenge? What if some shady paparazzi comes up to me and promises a huge pay day if I spill all of the secrets I learned?”

“You wouldn't,” Steve says confidently.

Which, okay, yes, Eddie very much appreciates Steve's trust in him and it kind of makes him feel a little gooey inside, but Eddie's on a roll and he has a point to make.

“I could!” Eddie protests. “What if I was just a huge asshole? What do Hopper and Argyle think of you dating someone without an NDA?”

“I don't think I've ever had anyone mad at me that I didn't ask them to sign an NDA,” Steve says thoughtfully.

“Well clearly you've been dating douchebags,” Eddie grumbles. “You have to look out for yourself more, okay, what if I was just the worst person in the world and - what?”

Steve's smiling at him way too fondly. “I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you,” he says softly.

Eddie's breath catches. “Is that, uh. Is that a confession, or the reason you didn't have me sign an NDA?”

“Both?” Steve admits. “Look, I know it's kind of early, so I'm not expecting -”

“No, fuck that, I'm definitely in love with you,” Eddie cuts in. “I've wanted to say it since the time you called me at work.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes out. “Still?”

“Still.” Eddie makes a little face at himself. “I do trust you, Steve. It might take me a while to get used to everything, but I don't think there's anything I'm going to learn that will change that.”

Steve kisses him, tangling his fingers in Eddie's hair.

“Come to the Christmas gala with me?” he asks.

“Won't the press and stuff be there?” Eddie says.

“Yeah. It's okay if you're not ready for that, but I - I think I'd like to tell people that I have a boyfriend. To introduce you whenever you are ready.”

Eddie considers that. He's honestly not sure he is ready, but - shit, is he ever going to feel ready? “Yeah,” he says. “Jesus, yeah, let's do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve says, his face lighting up.

“Yeah,” Eddie says again. “Just, uh, let me call my uncle and tell him first. Unless - do you want to come with me, tell him together?”

Steve kisses him again. “I'd really like that. We're still in this, still figuring this all out together, right?”

Eddie follows after him for another kiss. “Together,” he agrees.

Yeah, Eddie can handle that. As long as they're together.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #steddie fic #steddie holiday exchange #pop singer steve harrington #bartender eddie munson

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