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bouncybongfairy · 10 months

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Business Partners

Lip Gallagher x Fem Reader

Summary: While helping Lip with the Ice Cream truck, things take a heated turn.

Work Count: 2.5k+

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It was a hot summer day on the Southside. The type of heat that requires two cold showers a day to rinse accumulating sweat. You were sitting on the porch with a couple of neighborhood friends. The living room was the only room with a swamp cooler and your dad was hosting a poker game with a couple of buddies. You didn’t want to be around all the cigar smoke. At least outside there was air circulation to slightly combat the heat. You swatted a fly away from your face and sighed. It was 5pm, and the sun was just barely letting up. Your friends had left, unable to take the scorching heat any longer. You were happy they left early because you were about to offer a blunt that your dad rolled for you; which meant it would be rolled extremely well. After lighting it you looked around and saw Lip on his porch. He was wearing a muscle tank and shorts. His hair that was normally wild was slightly weighed down slightly with sweat.

Distracted by his appearance you didn't immediately notice that he was walking towards you. As he got closer, he took one last drag of the cig and flicked it into the street. Not wanting to show the insecurity, you didn't change your position on the porch; your back was pressed against the small cement wall with your legs crossed and lay straight out on a step.

"Hey, you're uh, Y|N right?" He asked, crossing his arms.

"Yes," You said.

"Are you busy?" He asked.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" You said; of course you knew him, not personally, but his reputation precedes him.

"No, I was a teacher's aid in your 5th period math class this last year. I graded alot of your work and you are fucking amazingly quick and accurate with 90% of your work. Anyway, I have an ice cream truck that I operate with a neighbor but he can't make it tonight. I was wondering if you would help me tonight? If not, it's cool though," He said, using both hands to push his hair back.

"Give me like 30 minutes?" You asked standing up.

"See you at 5:30," He said.

After walking back into the house and saying hello to your dad and his friends you dart to your room. You look around your room trying to figure out what to wear. You weren't scared or nervous to hang out with him. You had been in relationships with people and maybe even had one or two one night stands. The idea of hanging out with a new boy didn't intimidate you in the slightest. You grab your pink cotton mini skirt and a white tank top before going to the bathroom to rinse your body off and change clothes. It only took you about 15 minutes to get in and out of the bathroom. Once you get back to your room you start gathering your stuff into a purse. Simple things like chapstick, mascara, vape, and your wallet. You threw a cardigan on and grabbed your phone before heading out.

You gave your dad a bullshit excuse about hanging out at your friend Jenny's house as you left. Once you walk outside, the beat up ice cream truck pulls up to the curb outside your house. Having to pull a couple of times you finally get the passenger door open. There wasn't a passenger seat, only a white fold out chair that was set up. You take your cardigan off and lay it over the seat before sitting.

"Am I allowed to smoke in here?" You asked, taking out the barely smoked blunt that you were puffing on earlier.

"Only if you share," He said playfully, starting to head towards the park.

"So do you only sell ice cream?" You asked.

"Straight to the point? We sell joints but nothing more extreme than that. Distribution to a minor isn't a charge that I really want," He said, you handed him the blunt which he carefully took.

"I don't think it'll matter if you want it once you have it," You said laughing.

"Fair enough," He said.

Once you got to the park things became way more relaxed. Lip explained not to sell to kids who are too young; if a dad came to the car with kids try to insinuate what you guys really sell. There was a line of about four people, you were trying to get through them as quickly as you could considering it was starting to get dark. Lip was behind you rolling joints as fast as you were selling them. Having him behind you was making your stomach flip every once in a while. It reminded you of when you would make contact with each other in math class. It happened at least once everyday that Lip would bother to show up. He has such a poker face that it can be hard to read him, most of the boys at your school were clueless. You could read them as easily as Doctor Seuss, they only really cared about a few particular things: sex, drugs, overly sexist pop culture figures and other frivolous concepts. There was no mystery to them because they were all overly vocal and aggressive. As if you were engaging in a conversation they started, was verbal confirmation that you were into them.

Lip on the other hand, didn't feel the need to be aggressive or out spoken to maintain a certain level of masculinity; which is extremely attractive. You had also heard from the grapevine that he was extremely good in bed. This intrigued you because the couple boys you had slept with were.. bad to put in bluntly. It always felt so impersonal, it went from kissing directly sex which at times was painful. One of your friends confided in you about when she and Lip hooked up at a party. It was the first time anyone had given her head before they had sex. She explained to you that she never realized that penetrative sex could be so enjoyable. Everything about him was just so intoxicating. The way he made eye contact from the moment he started a conversation to the moment he ended it. You broke your day dreaming to help the last customer who came up to the window. He was an older man in a construction uniform. Before you could even greet him Lip put a hand on your shoulder and motioned for you to sit down.

You sit down and light one of the joints that he rolled. The man kept trying to peer over the window to see you but Lip kept moving to block his view; this made you blush a deep shade of red. It was things like that: instead of calling him out verbally he used more subtle ways of proving his point. This just touched on how smart and strategic he was in his actions. You tuck your hair behind your ear and stare up at Lip. He was still wearing that muscle-tee, exposing his shoulders and arms. Due to the heat, his body was covered in a thin layer of sweat. Making his features pop out that much more. He closed the window and pulled out another chair to sit down with you. You pass him the joint and cross your legs.

"What do you think of the business?" Lip asked.

"I think I deserve 20% of today's profits," You said, smirking.

"Usually 10% is average for new business partners," He said.

"Yeah well, I am a bit over qualified as you admitted," You said.

"Fair enough," he said letting the joint hang from his lips as he pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket, "20% of 300 is-"

"60 bucks," You said, interrupting him, holding out your hand. He laughed and handed the money to you.

"Oh I wasn't being super serious, you keep it. I've already been smoking your supply so don't even worry about it," You said pushing the money back.

"Well it would have been worth it. I love Kev to death but he needs a fucking calculator while he serves people," Lip said ashing the joint into a glass mug.

You made small talk about life, you told him about the job you have at your dad's liquor store. Lip was surprised that you held a job considering your grades. You explained how you're gonna use school as a tool to leave the Southside. It's not like you hated living here but you really wanted to live in California. He explained to you that he wasn't concerned with school right now but that maybe one day he would go. You didn't bother giving him the 'if you just applied yourself' speech because you were sure he heard it a million times over. After sitting at the park for a while you convince Lip to go to one of your favorite food spots: Gus Jr.

"Wouldn't it be funny if we left the truck hotboxed so that when we open the window to pay the worker gets blasted with smoke?" You propose while taking a rag.

"Where do you come up with this shit, that's an amazing idea," Lip said laughing and extending his arm to get the joint.

Lip committed so hard to the scheme that he got out of the car to order in order to keep the smoke from escaping through the opened window. You got a chicken burger and Lip got a standard cheeseburger. Once he got back in the car you both lit a joint each and started huffing on it as fast as you could. You tried but you couldn't keep up with Lip, it was like he was just breathing smoke without needing air. There was so much smoke in the car that it was beginning to burn your eyes. You grab your purse and pull your wallet out and hand Lip two twenties. He didn't take the money and before you could protest this, the window attendant was trying to get Lip's attention. He rolled down the window and a wave of smoke poured out.

"Oh sorry about that, I had no idea it was so hot boxed in here. That's my bad," Lip said acting clueless; the commitment he had to this was making it extremely hard to hold back your laughter.

"That's what's up bro, when the window opened my mouth started watering," The young man with dyed hair and piercings said.

"If we give you a free joint will you give me a strawberry shake?" You asked, getting up from your seat and over Lip.

Your head stuck out the window, one hand was on the window and your other hand was pulling down the back of your skirt. You were covered in a thin layer of sweat which was causing your white tank top to stick to your chest. When you pulled your other hand back from behind yourself, you accidentally brushed your hand against Lip's crotch. Even though it was an accident, you were happy it happened. You grabbed the joint that was tucked behind his ear. This kid was practically drooling, without speaking he nodded in agreement and rushed back into the kitchen. Lip gently rested his hand on your lower thigh, rubbing his hand up and down. You turned to look back at him and the look on his face was making you melt. It was completely dark by this point but Lip was so red it looked like he'd been out in the sun for hours. You broke eye contact to greet the manipulatable Gus Jr worker who came back.

"Thank you so-so much," You said, handing the joint to him after he handed her the shake and bags of food.

He muttered a shy 'not a problem' as you sat back down on your chair. Lip drove away and found a place to park so they could eat. He ended up finding an abandoned parking garage, driving the truck to the top floor. You both sat on the white fold out chairs and started eating. The straw was covered in whipped cream, Dutch Bro style. You licked a drip of melting cream coming down the lid of your shake cup. Then take the straw into your mouth, cleaning the whip cream off.

"Are you doing that on purpose?" Lip asked, shoving a handful of fries into his mouth.

"No but I don't blame you for thinking that, it was inadvertently sexual," You said.

"Oh don't get me wrong. It still would have been hot if you were doing it on purpose but somehow it's that much hotter knowing you weren't thinking about it," He said, washing down a mouthful with his Pepsi.

"Is that the only reason you asked me to help you tonight? To get in my panties?" You asked.

"No, if I only wanted to hook up I would have just asked to fuck. I think you're a dime and smart. I take you more seriously than a girl I just wanna have sex with," He said.

"Flattering truly, and here I thought this night would end in you begging to get off in some way," You said finishing off your burger. Lip playfully out his hands to his chest as if he was hurt.

"Oh please princess Y|N, let me have the honor of eating you out," He mocks, holding his hands together as if he was praying.

"Wish granted," You said, spreading your legs slightly.

"Are you serious?" He asked.

You spread your legs wider and wrap your lips around straw from the shake. You nod your head yes and wait for his reaction. He wiped his hands down on his shirt before getting off his chair. He got on his knees in front of you and kissed you on each knee. Then runs his hands up the outside of your thighs, hooking his fingers around your thong. He pulls it down eagerly yet gently, letting them fall around one ankle. He trailed small pecks along your inner thighs, making your legs twitch. He started kissing your lips, like he was teasing you before dipping his tongue in. Once he did, you threw your head back, pushing your pelvis closer to his face. It started slow, like he was getting to know your anatomy. You run your fingers through his hair, moaning while looking up at the ceiling. When you looked down at Lip, he was already staring at you. You giggle and look away, embarrassed that he had been looking at you without you knowing.

He starts to speed up, flicking his tongue quickly against your clit. You pull at his hair which causes him to moan against you. Feeling the vibrations from his lips against you made you buck yourself into his face. One of his hands moves from gripping your thigh to your pussy. He inserts his middle and ring finger into you, thrusting them in and out at a painfully slow speed. He sped up his tongue and the combination of slow thrusts with his over stimulating fast tongue was driving you crazy. Your stomach was so warm it was starting to feel like you were burning.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," You whine out, trying your hardest to keep yourself from doing so. It felt so good that you didn't want to end it by cumming so fast.

No longer being able to hold yourself back you begin to orgasm. One leg stayed on the ground bouncing up and down while you lifted the other one. Using his hair to pull him in closer to you, your head was fully tipped back and you were moaning out quite loudly. He pulled away from you and took his shirt off, wiping his face off before cleaning you up.

"Would the head I just gave you be considered part of that 20% profit you're entitled to?" He asked playfully.

"Shut the fuck up," You say laughing, smacking him in the shoulder. He laughed and drove you home.

#fanfic writing #smut #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #shameless #weed#shameless fanfic#smoking #lip gallagher x fem reader #y/n #lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x you #lip Gallagher x y/n

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misfithive · 10 months

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6 for the ask game!

Yay!

Favorite sibling: Erik or Sara?

Sara! I am also autistic so i see a lot of myself in her in some ways (the scene where August tried to get her to sell him her adhd meds and she said “why would I do that if it’s illegal” is sooooo me coded i have to laugh) and also seeing her made me reflect on how I could be perceived even if i dont mean anything by certain stuff (i get annoyed when my siblings chew loud but its more more of a sensory thing but also it is bad manners 💀. But when Sara told Simon to stop i was like dang girl RELAXXXXXX. So i am a hypocrite) lolol anywayyyssssss. Yes, so I pick Sara. Her relationship with Simon is also special to me and i am one of those people in the small camp that hope they can mend their relationship.

Erik (may he rest in peace) i felt was not as wonderful as fics make him seem. He is more of a neutral to me. The first time I rewatched after reading fics i was like WOW he is so harsh?!?! with Wilhelm that first episode. Wille is literally being dropped off in the middle of nowhere out of the blue you could at least have a little empathy?!?! Like there were some cute glimmers but overall idk. And the buddy buddy with august and laughing at that f*cked up predatory joke August made is a red flag.

Adding my favorite Simon x Sara edit for good measure 😁

Ask me more questions if ya wanna 😁

#young royals #young royals asks #misfit answers asks #simon eriksson #wilmon #prince wilhelm #sara and simon #erik young royals

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dashulyasweet · 11 months

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Guys look who's here it's Wally Darling himself💛💙 He came from the neighborhood recently to visit me🤗🥰 Okay okay guys now I'm going to be serious. I know about boundaries that Clown the creator of Welcome Home had settled. More specifically I'm aware that Clown doesn't approve people buying and selling WH stuff. But this Wally here was handmade by my aunt specifically for me. Now with that out of the way I just wanted to share with you this amazing news and also I wanted to express how over the top happy I am to have this buddy here with me😊 He's now an official member of my plushie gang😁 and I don't know what's wrong with me😅 and how the hell things turned out this way but Wally Darling is also ended up being on my crush list. ( for those who don't know, yes I have a list of characters who I really like, and I call it my crush list). I don't know... Wally is just so cute and silly but also kind of mysterious and menacing and I love it. Long story short, Wally is just right up my alley😊 honestly speaking, the entire aesthetic of Welcome Home is right up my alley. My aunt also said that maybe in the future she'll make Julie Joyful for me❤🌷🌸🌷🌸

#welcome home #wally darling #wh wally #cute plush #wally #I love this little guy #handmade plush

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rainedragon · 10 months

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for the lolita ask game: 6, 11, 19 💕

6: do you have a favorite lolita/does anyone inspire you?

Yes, lots of people! Maki and Asuka the designers of AP, the kera model Midori... As far as like, lolita who's style I really like... It's kind of weird because when you are new and 'young' to lolita, you look at people and are like 'oh they are so cool, I wish I was that cool', but like, after a decade, I look at people and I'm like "That's my buddy, so-and-so" or "oh my god, the newbies just keep getting younger and younger, I am so old". XD It's just a very different sort of dynamic. But like, all that said, people who really stand out in my mind as people who's style I really like, and have liked over the last like decade, include people like Beescuit, Arthael, idodeclare, MintyMix, FannyRosie, and aerynsys. I also really looked up to caro-chan as a younger lolita and now like, we just know each other? Like IDK. oh! Toshi is cool too! And Avina! And MilaDeBlois! and and and...

11: what's one item you have that you would never sell?

I have a little handmade book necklace that Caro-chan of Fyeah lolita made. Inside it are hand-written notes, autographs, etc from friends I've met through lolita. It's one of my dearest treasures.

19: do you remember the first dress you ever saw? do you still like it?

The short answer is no, I don't remember the first dress I ever saw. I saw the first episode of Le Portrait de Petit Cossette in about 2005 at Otakon, and I saw lolita in Nana as it was published in Shoujo Beat, and I saw advertisements in shoujo beat / at Otakon for Kamikaze girls. I want to say I had a Kamikaze girls poster on my wall, but like, for whatever was on the other side, the Kamikaze girls size was facing the wall. I had online friends who wore lolita and I'm sure I saw photos of them. I also was using lolita items as drawling references for dressup dolls before I was interested in wearing lolita. I have to be clear, in like... 2004-2007-ish? I was exposed to content with lolita in it and I just didn't care. I had no interest in it.

That said, I still have my hard drive from 2008-2009, and these are the things I actually downloaded in my my drawing references that I probably would have considered lolita. I also started to fall in love with lolita while playing poupee girl. But really, it was the OTT sweet prints and bright pink x red stuff AP was doing around 2008-2009 that got me into lolita.

Dream Magic I bought and still own and adore even though it doesn't currently fit me. The bodyline candy skirt I also bought, still have... have multiples of it because I bought the sax instead of the pink and went back to get the pink years later... Most of the rest of this isn't my jam anymore, lol. I like the red x white polkadot skirt?

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dalt20 · 3 months

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Tooning In 12. Greg Bailey part 3 of 10

DL:So it says on your IMDb that you directed 52 episodes of a cartoon from CiNAR called We Are the Dogs in 1985. What was that?

GB:I have no idea! I started working at Cinar in Feb. 1992. I never heard of that dog show.

DL:Oh ok. Somebody musta vandalized your account. Moving on, Starcom the U.S. Space Force for DiC and Coca Cola

GB:I remember Space Force at DIC but never heard of Coca Cola

DL:They were the syndicator of the show.

GB:I didn't know that!

DL:They had a television department called Coca Cola Telecommunications. They had a relationship with DiC during The Real Ghostbusters until the film Ishmel flopped at the box office. Causing DiC to leave the partnership.

GB:Was DIC working on Ishmel? I don't know anything about that. I am not really aware of the property. Why did they leave the work relationship over the film or did Coca Cola close up their department? Sorry I guess I have more questions than useful answers.

DL:No, DiC wasn’t working on Ishmel but yes they left their work relationship over the film.And also I'm glad you ask for answers on my knowledge.

GB:Do you know why they left over the film? It was a live action film wasn't it. I was in Japan in those years so there are a lot of things that I seem to have a lack of knowledge about what was happening on this side of the world in those years. Especially in entertainment. It took me years to see films like Robocop after hearing everyone in the US talk about them all the time.

DL:It was because their deal was soured because Coca Cola was losing money from the film, a big loss. And they sold the film distributor Columbia Pictures to current owner Sony. Plus it was thought that DiC was eying a merger with Coca Cola.

GB:OK, I sort of understand now. I will have to ask around about it to see if anyone knows about it other than the executives. I believe this flop happened around 1987 if I see it correctly on Google in my quick look. DIC really went through a big upheaval at that time so it may be related. Jean Charlopin split up with Andy Heyward about that time. DIC Tokyo went with Charlopin and part of the split said that some work would be sent to DIC Tokyo for a season or 2 before DIC LA went off and did their work elsewhere. There was a lot of activity at the executive level and that ended my gig in Tokyo as well. The whole art department in LA also broke up and people went their own ways.

DL:Yep, that is correct.The ALF cartoons for Alien productions and NBC?

GB:I don't think I saw any Alf shows after they left DIC or did they end at DIC. Also Saban was part of the 3 way ownership at DIC. He bought out the music rights that DIC had and moved his company back to France. DIC really had no library to fall back on and soon had no more shows. Heyward had a lot of debt. 80 million seems to stick in my head right now and it doesn't sound like much now but with no library did it really have any value. Heyward promoted his golfing buddy Mike Moliani from director to an executive position. Mike over the years that I was there directed some pretty bad shows that were also very disorganized and had a lazy kind of pre production work done in LA. That's what I was saying last time that I would jump to do shows by Raynis because his shows were so great even if they were more challenging. The Mike Moliani directed shows were not interesting to work on as an artist and animator. It was ironic, jumping ahead 20 years later, the company I worked at Cookie Jar Toronto also bought out DIC and spent a lot of money for a company that still had no library. But I get ahead of myself.

DL:yeah. Saban bought the foreign rights to the shows only to sell them to C&D, the company of Jean Chalopin. Some jackass move.

GB:I don't know that it is a bad thing to have the rights. That's how animation companies make money. It was just questionable what Andy Heyward had after buying DiC without any rights to the music or any of the shows they made. Anyway, I am not the expert on all the executive dealings at DIC and I'm sure a lot of people have more insight than I do about that. So if Saban bought and sold the film distribution rights just to hold onto the music rights it sounds like he might have made a good financial deal pretty quickly. Sort of like flipping some real estate in a hot market.That must be how Charlopin had the rights to Gadget when they made the live action movie a decade ago.

DL:Yeah. And DiC brought Saban to court fighting with them about selling them to their former shareholder where they duke it out until it was settled in 1991 with Saban owning the rights to the pre 1990 DiC library.Revoking it from Jean Chalopin.

GB:That's funny. I believe Charlopin and Saban were old business partners at DIC France pre-LA days. I never heard that there was any bad blood between them. So I guess Saban just licensed the rights to Charlopin to make the live-action Gadget. I think they made a new animated series as well about that time. I didn't see the movie. One day I was listening to a culture critic talking about movie sequels. He said the worst movies are live-action movies based on animated tv shows. He said the Gadget movie was the worst one of those. So I guess he didn't like the movie much. I remember Bruno Bianchi's and Charlopin's names on the poster. Maybe Saban's name was there too but I didn't pay attention. I never met Saban but I had met Charlopin a few times in Tokyo just to be introduced basically.

DL:Actually they were as Saban would compose the soundtrack to Ulysses 31 and Mysterious Cities of Gold.Saban was not a producer on the film, but Chalopin and Heyward were.So how was the founder of DiC?

GB:What do you mean? "How was the founder"?

DL:Jean Chalopin,like how he was.

GB:Like I say I was only introduced to him briefly. He was kind of a nice-looking and amiable person from my brief meeting. He looked like someone very comfortable in his skin and well-suited to the jet-set lifestyle he was living. He was still quite young then. I would guess in his late 30's/ maybe 40 so he was an early boomer. I saw him last around the time the company was breaking up and he had come to Tokyo I guess to meet with Katayama and Bruno and discuss what the plan was.

DL:C.O.P.S. for Hasbro?How was working on that show?

GB:I think everyone in DIC must have worked on that series. It was another syndicated series of 65 shows so as usual they went through the studio at breakneck speed and the quality of syndicated shows was much lower than network Saturday morning shows. I didn't love the show much because it was kind of macho adolescent stuff with not much story value and no humor. I guess if you like that kind of thing it was fine but I never really liked the natural human-looking animated characters. It just looks like bad life drawing or something and makes me remember my early days animating at Hanna Barbera. I just read a byline when I searched on Google to refresh my memory. "Cops in 2020". So I guess it was a future cop show inspired by Robocop. Part of the pre-production work was done in Canada. In Ottawa I believe, because DIC had started doing some pre-prod work in Canada by that point.

DL:Yes, it was inspired by Robocop.As Andy would try to copy trends at the time.

GB:There was some kind of immoral feeling working on shows that were glorified commercials for toys. It did weigh on you and destroyed your belief that animation should be a good thing for kids, not just something to exploit them or make them bug their parents for more terrible cheap toys.A salesman always proposes a show that was a success last year by someone else. It is counter to shows created in a more creative environment where copying something already done would be at the bottom of your list of what to do. Does that make sense? In later years working in development I would see a lot of ideas or suggestions from the sales team about making a show just like Spongebob, or just like whatever was a success last year. It is really anti-creative. But syndication was just selling toys that Hasbro was making. I guess I helped to sell a lot of toys at DIC.

DL:So how did you feel when you left DiC Entertainment in 1988?

GB:I thought my career would end because it would be hard to replace the job with something as high-paced and rewarding. It was also a matter of leaving a very financially rewarding position because we got paid well. I was going to have to leave Tokyo, which I liked a lot. Although in another way it was time for me to leave because I had put my family through 4 years of living out of a suitcase. It was time for things like school for my daughter and living somewhere that my wife could work and get on with her career. Living in Tokyo was definitely making that impossible. I didn't think I would find another job as interesting as DIC but I had learned a lot of useful skills and information about how to control a production and get more input into the show in a professional manner. A lot of skills that were not known in Canada at the time.

DL:So you worked on The Raccoons,your first Canadian production you worked on.

GB:Yes, the first after coming back from Tokyo. I was living in Ottawa for the first time and Hinton Studios was doing Raccoons. I never became much of an expert on it because my time there was short-lived before I went to Cinegroupe in Montreal. I did some Raccoons and I just started on Ren and Stimpy for a week or 2. I also did part of a storyboard on Where's Waldo in that period I believe. I don't remember how I found that job though.

DL:So at Hinton Studios, were they drawing dirty pictures of the Raccoons characters according to rumors?

GB:What?! Animators never do that.

DL:Well TV tropes said so and i just want to know to clear up rumors,that's all.

GB:I always thought those noses on the bad guys Cedric and Cyril looked kind of obscene all the time. It would be difficult to make them do anything too dirty with those flaccid noses. Come to think of it they all had droopy noses even the Raccoon characters except the females. Must have been from all those dirty scenes they were involved in that never made it onto TV that left their noses limp.

DL:Ah. so you work on the Ren and Stimpy pilot, Big House Blues. Were you working with Bob Jacques?

GB:I think I was supposed to but I only did about 2 weeks and then had to leave.

DL:How was the experience and did you like the program?

GB:Too brief to get much out of it. I was pretty excited about the design and method they were using to work. I loved the show of course and often wished I had had more time on it. The model sheets were really great and the show felt really fresh at the time.

DL:So when did you get to go to Cinegroupe in Montreal?

GB:I left to go there right after I did Ren and Stimpy for a few weeks. I was probably working the next week in Montreal and commuting back and forth to Ottawa on weekends. I had worked at Cinergroupe before going to Tokyo for a few months on Ovid and the Gang as an animator. Anyway, when I left Hinton Studios for Cinegroupe it must have been 1988 or 1989.

DL:So what was Ovide and the Gang?

GB:Ovid was a co-production with Belgium. It was an original series based on a comic book style of characters. I can't even remember what the point of the series was or the relationships between the characters. They were very cute-looking characters though and the studio was animating the whole series with about 5 animators and 5 assistants. When I went there after Hinton they were doing a few series. L'Aventure de L'ecriture a show about French grammar and a series Little Flying Bears which is just exactly as the name implies. Everything was little something or other in those years. The bears had dragonfly wings. These flying bears were saving the environment. But I guess they didn't succeed because it's still a mess. But saving the environment was big in animation in those days.

DL:So by the way, did you have cable in the late 90s early 90s? Because these shows were broadcast on The Family Channel.

GB:I do remember them on TV but don't know if it was Family Channel or CBC. I probably only had basic cable at home. I'm not sure when the series finished. Oddly it was a co-production with Yugoslavia. Unfortunately, a few years into production the Yugoslavian war began and that turned into a bloodbath. I remember before the war everyone was talking about what a fantastic place it was over there with all those people living in harmony. The breakup of the country and the massacres just went on for what seemed like more than a decade. Anyway, the show kept getting held up because the co-producing company was telling us about the tanks sitting out in front of the company and it just got impossible eventually. It's weird how all this bad stuff is going on behind the scenes in these innocent cartoons on TV.

DL:Oh yeah. Well can’t believe that the Yugoslavian war was tied to the production trouble of Little Flying Bears.Also before I go, one more question. How was it when you went to work for CiNAR and Young Robin Hood for Hanna Barbera and France Animation.

GB:I heard once that the producer over there wanted to have Cinegroupe's production money payment sent to him in a location in a neighboring country. But that didn't sit well with Cinegroupe. I don't know if they suspected he would run for it with the money and get the heck out of the way of that approaching war. It seemed like the country was unfolding in slo mo at that point. This was before the war in Kosovo and Serbia. The co-producer was in Zagreb. It was a pretty city that held the international animation festival every second year alternating with Ottawa.

DL:Interesting.

GB:Robin Hood was fine. The first job there was on White Fang. I was an animation posing supervisor. Then I did timing direction on Robin Hood. Robin Hood went by pretty smoothly and it was nice working in a familiar US production method. I was able to bring in some of those timing skills from Tokyo into the job.And then I directed a few specials on Munch. Murmel Murmel and Boy in the drawer.I think that is the correct order of work at Cinar. It was called Crayon Animation in those days but it was owned by Cinar.

DL:Wait CiNAR was called Crayon animation?Also before then CiNAR was a dubbing studio before it started to produce its own productions in 1988.

GB:Yes, the animation part of the company was called Crayon Animation. Cinar existed at a different location downtown. They did the post-prod mixing and sound work and recording at Cinar. And the executive offices of Ron and Micheline were downtown at Cinar. The animation studio Crayon was in an old industrial warehouse space in St Henri in the mid-19th century industrial part of Montreal. If you've seen the movie or read the book The Tin Flute that is where it was. Lots of rail yards and on the old Lachine canal.Yes they did the dubbing and all sound work at Cinar headquarters downtown. They owned the building there, which was originally an old convent. Later on we moved out of the Crayon building and moved to a new office tower around the corner from the Cinar headquarters and sound studio.Ron Weinberg would often talk about how he started Cinar by driving around the US with a trunk full of videotapes of the movie Wicker Man and he would sell this tape everywhere. I don't know how he did that but that was the story. I don't know if I ever saw Wicker Man but at Burning they used to burn wicker furniture in memory of that movie.

#animation #animation interview #tooning in.#dic #dic entertainment #starcom #C.O.P.S.#haim saban #saban entertainment #80s cartoons #greg bailey #the raccoons #ren and stimpy #cinegroupe #Cinar #young Robin Hood #yugoslav wars #hanna barbera

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whispersafterdusk · 2 months

Text

Heart of Stone - ch 15

"I might make a tiny one to join the quartz and heart on my shelf."

"Really?"

Dawn grinned at him from over a shoulder; she'd been walking in slow circles around the natural rock stack, studying it from every angle. Unsuur had sat down in the sand a few feet away, letting his attention wander between her and the stack as it wanted to. It was great having two things he really liked both in his line of sight at the same time.

"A bit of clay, some paint, some texturing... Might take a few tries to get it perfect but, yeah, really."

He smiled; she came over to sit next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. She liked being in contact with him as much as he did with her whether that was holding her hand or having an arm around her (and it was both fun and comforting to rest his chin on top of her head - he could do that whether she was sitting or standing in front of him. It was easier when her hair was down but she still laughed every time he did it).

"Can't wait to see it, then." ((Continued below cut. Very mildly spicy part warning))

She hummed happily before lifting her head and looking out across the landscape. "I'll definitely show you once it's done - not sure when that will be since I'll be starting work on Catori's sandrunning stuff sooner or later."

"Sandrunning?"

"Have you ever gone sledding?"

Unsuur shook his head. "Sandrock barely gets a dusting of snow in the winter and it's always gone the next day. I've seen sledges that haul things across sand but those were pulled by animals or people, not really ridden. Something the size of a sledge sounds kind of dangerous to let slide down a hill too."

"Well, Catori wants to build sleds - NOT big ones! - and have people go sledding down the dunes along marked courses. She mentioned something about races and times and prizes too."

"How would that work?

"A race, or sliding down a dune?"

"Both, I guess. I've never thought of sand as slick. I've definitely rolled down dunes before but not usually on purpose. At least it'd be a soft landing if someone falls off."

Dawn laughed and trailed her fingers through the sand in front of them. "Something flat and polished enough should zip down a hill pretty well. Weight might be an issue but I'm not the one building the sleds so I don't know what Catori has planned for those. I'll be building everything else - the sign-up kiosk, the banners, the boundary markers... She's planned out several courses for people to try their hand at so after I get it made I then have to go install everything. That part will probably take longer than actually building them."

Unsuur turned to sweep his gaze across the surrounding area; that was a lot of desert out there to build in. "That sounds like a lot to do."

"It is. It'll mostly be a lot to move but it's all simple to assemble once I get it out here. I'm still waiting on the final blueprints since the whole idea isn't completely finalized with City Hall yet."

"I'll help. And if I'm not around to help you can borrow Boulder to help you carry things." At his name the horse lifted his head from a patch of scrub grass, flicking his ears toward them. "-not right now buddy, sorry to interrupt your graze."

Boulder huffed and went back to nibbling on the grass. Dawn smiled over at the horse. "I'll keep that in mind but I am seriously debating getting a horse for myself. Elsie said Cooper would be willing to sell me one if I got a proper stable built. --oh! That reminds me! Did I mention that Heidi's got me officially penciled in to start on expanding my house?"

He shook his head. "You hadn't, but I was assuming now that the bridge was done that that wouldn't be too far behind. Same plans as the ones you showed me before?"

"Yep! She thinks they can get it done in three or four days since they don't need to worry about any sort of plumbing. Once they're done I'll add on a stable myself -- it won't need to be very big, just enough to hold two horses."

Unsuur looked back to her. "Two horses?"

"My horse and Boulder, just in case you have him with you when you're visiting," she answered, gently nudging him with her shoulder. "He should have a spot to rest and unwind too."

"I'm sure he'll appreciate it, and he can have more than just Truth as a friend then."

"And I can sneak him treats," she added, with a sly grin.

Unsuur smiled and leaned back so he could slide his arm around her, then he brought his other arm over so he could seize her around the waist; she squeaked in surprise as he lifted her over his thigh and settled her in front of him between his legs. "Not if I keep you right where I can see you."

That got him a light swat on the arm but she leaned back against him contentedly.

---------------------------------

"And he bought everything? That's impressive."

"Just as expected! Soon Amirah and I will have what we need -- she can fully embrace her craft and I'll have access to BOTH my hobbies again."

"What glass stuff do you plan on making first?" he asked as he sat down on his stool at the jewelry bench, reaching out to slide Dawn's out for her.

"I haven't decided yet. Normally I'd discretely scout out what's selling but it's just Arvio here, and...my personal feelings about him aside, I know his profit margins have to be razor thin with Sandrock's economy being what it is. My main source of income is basically guaranteed since builders are always needed." She came over and sat down while twisting her hair up into a messy bun.

"So competing with him wouldn't be fair," he concluded, and she nodded as she turned the little light on over the bench.

"Right. That won't stop me from making things but whatever I make will be because I felt like it, not based on any market research." With the light on she pulled out a notebook from the cabinet by the bench and flipped it open to a page with an elaborately wire-wrapped and polished amber pendant drawn out - front, sides, and the back - in dark pencil lines. "For tonight though, this--" They both flinched slightly as the little tin timer went off - it seemed much louder than usual considering how quiet the evening was otherwise. Laughing, Dawn stood back up. "Hold that thought, I need to put in the next batch of fiber."

"Still making rope?" he asked, a little amazed at the sheer amount he knew she'd already made and here she was still making more.

"Yep," she sighed, picking up the top bundle of plant fiber off a small pile and loading it into one of her machines. "Believe it or not we're using a fair amount of fencing too -- we pulled a lot of scrap wood out of Gecko Station for it but there's a limit to how much wood we can use on this project. If it doesn't take off then that's...basically a lot of wasted lumber."

"I don't think it'll be wasted," Unsuur said. "If even one person enjoys themselves then it was a good use."

Dawn came back and flopped down on her stool. "True, I guess. Anyway, like I was about to say, this is tonight's plan -- I probably won't get it done in one sitting but what do you think?"

Unsuur looked the sketch over - it seemed like it'd be about the size of the top joint of his thumb when finished. "I like it, it reminds me of a bird's nest. Where'd you find the amber?"

"In among some lapis lazuli near Gecko Station -- it was wedged in and I wouldn't have seen it if I hadn't, by pure coincidence, quarried that particular outcrop. I'm not sure if someone dropped it or purposely hid it there but I guess it's mine now."

"I'd just call it a lucky find then and not wonder about it too much."

She grinned over at him and moved the notebook to a clipboard hanging from a hook attached to the wall in front of them. "Very lucky. Would you like any of the lapis lazuli? I only meant to take a small amount but it cracked and broke apart more than I was expecting."

"Sure. It'll look great next to my painite."

"Wha- you have painite?"

"Yes. It's not very big though."

"That's still really rare!"

"Do you want to see it sometime?"

"Yes!"

----------------------------------------

"It's all about focus and balance." ...both of which were hard to concentrate on since Dawn was sitting across from him watching as he delicately settled a fifth rock on top of a new stack. "Along with a steady hand and quiet mind."

"I'd like to think I have both...usually, depending on how my day is going," Dawn laughed softly. "Some days you don't need 'steady' or 'quiet,' you need 'sledgehammer.'"

Unsuur very slowly backed his hands away from the rock and held his breath for a moment; it stayed balanced - not even a wobble - and he exhaled silently through his nose. "Luckily you don't need a sledgehammer, or a pickhammer, or even a regular hammer to make a rock stack. Just your own hands and imagination. And rocks, but that goes without saying."

Dawn laughed again. "And good company?"

"...yeah, the company is definitely making this way better than usual," he answered after a moment. "Do you want to try?"

"I..." she started, drawing the vowel out as she pulled her pocket watch out of the top pocket of her overalls. "-dang it. I would love to but I have to meet Mi-an over at the old outpost in twenty minutes."

Wow. They'd come out here two hours early for a walk and some rock stacking...had it already been that long? "That's ok. We can come back to this another day. Will you two need any extra hands?"

"We're just doing final measurements and putting out some color-coded temporary posts to mark where the courses are definitely going. Need to make sure our numbers are right and there's no unexpected obstacles that've been unearthed since we were last out here," Dawn replied, standing up and brushing her knees off. "Tomorrow is when we'll be hauling everything out for the final set up. You can help then if you'd like."

"Count me and Boulder in."

"Does Boulder know how to pull a wagon?"

"...I'm not actually sure. I bought him from the ranch a few years ago so I'm not sure what Elsie or Cooper might have taught him aside from getting him used to a saddle and rider. He can carry things and people on his back though."

"We'll figure it out. I'll see you tomorrow." She stepped over and, once he was back on his feet, hugged him tightly, then tilted her head up toward him.

Unsuur bent slightly and kissed her, then before she could pull away kissed her a second time for good measure, absolutely adoring how it felt to feel her giggling against his lips. Little surprises like that never failed to make her laugh. "Bright and early?"

"Unfortunately," she said, tone flat, but then she smiled and headed off across the dunes.

------------------------------

"I...am done...building...in the middle...of a desert," Dawn wheezed as she threw herself down in the sand, flat on her back with her arms and legs spread.

Unsuur understood the sentiment well; they - meaning her, Mi-an, Unsuur, Elsie, and, surprisingly, Catori as well - had all met up at sunrise, packed all the sandrunning pieces into a wagon that Belle was pulling (Boulder toted all the water along with a satchel of snacks to keep them going) and headed out into the Eufala to install everything. Unsuur and Elsie had been mostly muscle, Catori had been 'supervising' and Mi-an and Dawn made sure everything fit together and was secured, and though he felt like he'd not done much actual work (...to be honest, he didn't really consider what Catori did to be 'work' either compared to everything everyone else was doing) his hands, arms, and feet were aching, he was hot and grimy, and a little hungry as well.

Mi-an dropped down on Dawn's left, fanning herself with the folded remains of a blueprint. "No kidding! Whew! After all this...wanna dunk my head...in a bucket of water," she panted.

Unsuur moved over to sit next to Dawn on her other side. "Don't let Burgess catch you."

"I was joking! ...mostly," Mi-an said with an exhausted smile, moving to lay down in the sand as well. "I wouldn't waste water like that - no dunking unless it's in my bathtub!"

Catori ambled up to them, writing rapidly on a clipboard in her hands. "Oooh, I can't wait to let Matilda know we're ready for business! Opening day is going to be big! BIG big! I'm advertising in every city, town, and village in the Free Cities! If it's got people, I'm sending it flyers!"

...that sounded like a lot of people. Could Sandrock even host however many 'a lot of people' ended up being? Hopefully Matilda had a plan of some kind. "When did you plan to open?"

"Soon," Catori chuckled. "I'm aiming for one week, maybe sooner if the flyers get made and mailed out quicker."

Unsuur glanced down to Dawn, noticing how sand was beginning to cake itself to her arms thanks to the sweat. "So a week before you get to see people enjoying what you've built. -- and you too, Mi-an. Those sleds look fun."

"Heeeeeeey!"

They all looked up at Elsie's yell - she was about twenty feet away with Belle and the wagon, waving at them, and didn't seem to be in danger or anything, just needing their attention; Unsuur relaxed a little, leaning back on his hands behind him and stretching his sore legs out.

"If y'all want a ride back then c'mon!"

"Guess that's our cue. Let's get home," Catori said, tucking the clipboard under an arm.

Mi-an sat up with a groan then stood and offered Dawn a hand up. "Coming?"

Dawn shook her head. "I'll walk. I need...to rest a bit before I try moving."

Mi-an giggled some and looked to Unsuur; he shook his head. "I'll stay with her. We can ride back on Boulder."

Dawn offered up an exhausted wave as the other two headed off; Unsuur got up and headed over to Boulder to retrieve a canteen of water and bring it back over to her, sitting down again with a quiet grunt he couldn't quite suppress. "Thirsty?"

She shook her head; Unsuur took a few large gulps and braced the open canteen between his knees, leaning back on his hands again. They were sitting in direct sunlight but there was a decently strong breeze blowing up from the canyon and over the dunes so the heat wasn't outright terrible but he was looking forward to heading home and sitting in front of a fan for awhile. Along with the aches from all the physical work he had a heat headache forming behind his eyes and starting to pound in his temples.

"I don't really like how worried she was."

"...huh?" Unsuur said, turning to look down at Dawn. "How who was worried?"

"Catori. She might have been acting excited but I think when she thought no one was looking at her she didn't seem all that confident."

"She's been trying to find a big success for awhile now. Sandrunning seems pretty fun though -- if you aren't afraid of crashing into those big rock formations. I'm surprised she didn't try to avoid those more. No matter how politely you ask, a rock isn't going to get up and move out of your way."

Dawn laughed quietly and rolled over to lay on her stomach, letting a handful of sand trickle through her fingers. "I'M just hoping no ruins or scrap or anything dangerous like that gets uncovered by a storm or something between now and opening day."

"Oh, yeah. That would be bad. We can check for that sort of thing before the big day though."

"Mmhmm," she hummed, nodding. "Do you need to head back soon?"

"Not really. I told Justice I wanted to help set things up and he agreed, mostly because he wanted me here to protect you all from any monsters or bandits. I might need to write up an official report stating everything went ok and we weren't attacked but he gave me the entire day to help."

"I have some time to kill before heading home -- they're putting the roof on the addition today and I don't want to be in their way."

"Are they almost done?"

"Just about. There's the roof and the flooring inside to finish up."

Unsuur reached over to rub a hand across her shoulders, which switched to brushing sand off her back. "Considering they kept pushing their start date back I bet you'll be glad to have them out of your space."

She groaned. "You have no idea. If I'd known sooner that they were having supply issues I would have gone out and gathered all the materials myself so I wouldn't be trying to do all THAT-" she gestured toward the sandrunning kiosk and courses beyond "-with people underfoot all day." After a pause she planted her hands on the ground and shoved up, pushing herself to her knees. "I think I've recovered enough to head back. Want to get a drink at the saloon?"

...he sort of did, but that headache... "...I want to, but I think I got a little too hot today and need some time to cool off first. I've got a headache starting but some rest and maybe a few painkillers ought to keep it from getting worse."

Dawn blinked at him then took him by the arm. "Let's definitely get you home then. I can get Boulder settled in the stable for you."

"Thanks but that's all right - I can manage that before I rest."

It was a short walk over to Boulder; Dawn did finish off the water in the canteen and Unsuur helped her fully brush off before hopping up behind her in the saddle. After a quiet ride back to town Dawn helped him get Boulder unsaddled and rubbed down; as they were working Amirah spotted them and hurried over and had a quick conversation with Dawn - too quiet for Unsuur to overhear so he didn't have to feel weird about eavesdropping - before heading off, then he frowned as he realized whatever they'd discussed had left Dawn frowning too.

"What's wrong?"

She let out a loud huff then put on what he could only describe as a brave face. "Nothing, it's... It's nothing. Don't worry about it."

He usually hung Boulder's saddle from a large wooden peg in the wall and missed it twice since he was looking over at her and not at what he was doing (or trying to do). "-are you sure?"

"Not yet," she answered quietly. "...I'll tell you about it later if-- if it turns out to be nothing, I'll tell you."

"...that sounds like if it DOES turn out to be something then you won't."

The smile she gave him was strained. "I won't keep it from you but it might take me awhile to calm down enough to talk about it. -- anyway, you should head home before your headache gets any worse. I'm sorry that helping me made you sick."

He came out of stable and pulled her into a hug. "It wasn't just because I was helping you -- every so often I get overheated and don't feel good for awhile. Rest always helps so you don't need to worry about me."

She momentarily knotted her fingers into the loose fabric of his jacket at the small of his back, crushing herself in against him, then inhaled deeply and stepped back. "Have a good nap. I'll drop by later to check in on you."

"Ok. We can go get that drink then."

Her parting smile was a bit more genuine but he still felt a twinge of concern as she walked away; what had Amirah said to her? Hopefully it wasn't bad news about their arrangement with the Mysterious Man...Dawn had been so excited at the prospect of blowing glass again. The thought of her being disappointed made him a little sad but there wasn't anything to gain by theorizing on whatever news Amirah had shared - she'd share when she was ready.

He ended up sleeping longer than he'd meant to but he felt much better afterward - no headache, normal body temperature, still hungry but that was to be expected since he'd technically napped through his lunch and while he'd eaten breakfast all he'd had since then was a few pieces of jerky. There were still some aches and pains, and a few new blisters on his hands from all the work, but overall he felt good -- time to go get that drink with Dawn, if it wasn't too late. It was at least nice out now that the sun had set and the walk over to the workshop was a short but pleasant one, but the pleasantness was dashed when a red-eyed Dawn opened the door and immediately stepped back to half hide herself behind it.

"H-hey. Um, feeling better?"

"I'm fine. What's wrong?"

There was a loud sniffle; she didn't look sad, more...angry, and was trying and failing to hide it. "It's-"

"-clearly not nothing. I can tell that much. Is Amirah backing out of your deal?"

She let out a sharp exhale and pulled the door open fully, gesturing for him to come inside and sniffling again. "No, it's not her - she actually warned me that-- stupid Arvio-"

Unsuur frowned; anything to do with Arvio was proving to be bad news. He wanted to ask - really badly - what he'd done, but considering their earlier conversation it was probably better to let her decide when she wanted to talk about it, whether that was right now or later.

The smell of fresh varnish and tar washed over him as he stepped through the doorway and she closed the door behind him. Off to his left was the new addition to the house; there was a curtain hung across the doorway that covered the top half of the opening and revealed bare floor studs beyond it. There was also a broom and dust pan leaning against the wall beside it with a small pile of sawdust pushed up against the baseboard -- the construction work crew hadn't been in the yard so he assumed they had finished for the day and would complete the flooring tomorrow (and, hopefully, wouldn't have left until the roof was done).

"Sorry but I don't really feel like getting a drink now," Dawn went on after a moment. "I'm just...ugh, I'm so -- I shouldn't have believed him!" She punctuated that with a little stomp of her foot, before plodding over to drop onto her couch. "He's no different from any other ass that just wants a pretty girl on their arm..."

"Wait, so did he... He knows you and I are a couple, doesn't he? I thought the entire town knew at this point." Unsuur went and sat next to her, fighting against the annoyance rising in him -- surely, surely, Arvio hadn't tried to ask Dawn to be his girlfriend knowing that she was Unsuur's?

"Oh he knows. That's why he was trying to- and why Amirah warned-" she cut herself off and grabbed one of the throw pillows from beside her and pressed it against her face, growling loudly into it before continuing. "He had some grand plan of inviting me to a fancy party under the pretense that there'd be a small group. In reality, I would be the only one there so he could convince me to give him a chance."

Her voice was muffled thanks to the pillow but Unsuur could hear her clearly enough that the annoyance bloomed into anger; not only had Arvio lied to him, to try and hinder his shot with Dawn, but now he'd lied to her too and was openly trying to steal her away? The man had always struck him as young and lacking life experience (not that Unsuur was much older or more experienced) but...he wouldn't have thought the shopkeeper capable of such actions.

"I...don't know what to say or do about that," he said (once he was certain he had his tone under control). "Lying and trying to steal someone's girlfriend isn't technically illegal so all I can do is be mad at him."

Her hands visibly clenched the pillow harder and a breath later there was another frustrated growl, or maybe it was a quiet scream - it was hard to tell. "Little rat." Slowly she slumped over onto her side, her legs gently bumping into his as she shifted. "Uggh...and I can't even choose to just avoid him! He owns the only general store in town!"

"Yeah." Again, no idea what to say, especially now that he was angry too; a cramp in his thumb drew his attention to his hands - they were clenched in his lap and he hadn't noticed he'd done that. He flattened his palms against his thighs and closed his eyes, slowly inhaling and picturing a few of his favorite rock stacks, mentally going through their creation step by step and feeling his anger gradually fading away to a deep disappointment.

When he was certain he was calm he stood long enough to put one knee up on the couch to support himself so he could lean over Dawn and gently pry her fingers off the pillow and move it away. There were twin damp spots on the side that had been pressed to her face and her eyes and cheeks were wet. With the pad of his thumb he swiped away a few tears and smiled down at her, getting a weak one in return, and he bent to gently kiss her.

When he went to straighten she grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, keeping their faces close; vaguely he was aware of her shifting under him, turning and bringing her legs up on the couch and scooting a bit so she was laying on her back under him, then she was pressing in with hungry kisses - way more passionately than they'd ever kissed before. It kind of knocked every conscious thought out of him, leaving him acting on instinct alone and his instincts seemed to know exactly what was needed for the situation; he slid his knee back so he wasn't so hunched over and switched to using a hand to hold himself upright as they kissed. One of her hands left his collar and moved, coming to rest firmly on his shoulder and drawing him down further a couple more inches so he shifted to brace himself with an elbow instead, to allow himself to be pulled down but not leave his full weight on her smaller frame.

When they finally came apart Unsuur sucked in much needed air; their noses were just grazing one another, her breath hot in his face, and he could feel as well as hear the little whisper:

"Stay?"

Stay? Stay. Here. Tonight. That thought managed to make it through and it was exciting, and scary, but mostly exciting (which was embarrassingly obvious by now - his pants felt three sizes too small at the moment). Wordlessly he brought his other knee up on the couch so he was straddling her thighs and slid his free hand under her at the small of her back, and nodded.

They didn't spend much more time on the couch; the walk to the bed was more of a stumble full of roaming fingers and tossed clothing. Neither of them had actually planned for this happening tonight so they had to stop just short of full intimacy but builders had very talented hands and Unsuur was very good at following directions. After tonight he would need to start carrying around protection--

...which he would need to buy from... Oh, damn it.

Well, whatever. Let Arvio really see just how out of reach Dawn was to him, and maybe he'd stop pursuing her and making her upset.

(Or maybe Fang would have condoms - that seemed like the less petty option).

Though Dawn's bed wasn't any bigger than his they still fit comfortably together, like they'd been made for one another; he did wake up once and was confused about where he was for a moment, then remembered and smiled and buried his face into Dawn's hair and fell back asleep. The next morning they woke still curled up together - it didn't seem like either of them had moved - and had a slightly embarrassing scavenger hunt to find where they'd tossed all their clothing.

He ducked into her bathroom long enough to wash his face and run his fingers through his hair - it would at least look passable until he could get home to comb it properly come lunch time. Dawn was over near the stove with the kettle on a burner when he came back out and she offered him a shy smile as she grabbed the tin of coffee grounds out of a nearby cabinet.

"Want breakfast before you go? Coffee?"

Unsuur glanced at the clock on the wall near the bookshelf -- 9:15. "Actually, I should get going before Justice comes looking for me."

"Early start today?"

He silently pointed at the clock; she looked over and he saw her eyes widen. "Ahh! I didn't set my alarm last night -- forget Justice, it's Yan who'll come banging on the door!" She hurriedly put the coffee grounds away and emptied the kettle back into the pitcher of water in the fridge, then began frantically pulling her hair up while jogging for the door. Chuckling quietly to himself - he was in a really great mood that not even the prospect of Yan could ruin - he followed her out and kissed her at the gate before she went rushing off toward the Commerce building.

Unsuur jogged that way as well but continued on to the Civil Corps building where he found Justice inside at his desk filling out a form.

"Sorry for being late, sheriff -- anything different today?"

"There you are, I was starting to wo-" Justice looked up as he started talking, took in Unsuur's appearance, then snorted and shook his head. "-never mind, not worried now and I don't need details. And, nah, just...get to your usual patrol. Try not to be too distracted today either, all right? We're expecting an uptick in tourists with that sandrunning thing planned and I'm hoping we don't have any trouble with them."

"Yes sir."

He turned to head back out the door then paused as a thought occurred to him - one that he felt bad for not having thought of it last night. "Hey, Justice. Exactly where does behavior cross over into harassment and how are we allowed to handle it?"

Justice stopped writing mid-word and looked up, looking equal parts confused and suspicious. "Uh, well, it's -- why? Who's harassing who?" He paused, then frowned. "Is someone harassing Dawn?"

"I'm not sure if it fully counts as harassment yet. Which is why I'm asking where the line is."

"Well, the definition of harassment is any behavior that threatens, intimidates, or demeans, or just plain isn't invited, welcome, or causes alarm without a legitimate reason. --not that there's many reasons to legitimately harass someone in the first place. What's going on?"

Unsuur hesitated - he didn't want to come across as 'the jealous boyfriend' so he needed to word this plainly and directly. "In that case it is, and it's...Arvio. He's bothering Dawn, the forced romance type of bothering, even though he knows we're a couple."

Shaking his head Justice stood, tossing his pen onto the desk. "Not again... I'll go have a friendly chat with him-"

"-wait, again?" Unsuur interrupted. "He's done this before?"

"Yeah, to a few girls that have since left Sandrock. Pretty sure one of them left because of him but also her shop wasn't doing so hot at the time either...last I heard she's got a successful little boutique out in Walnut Groo-- uh..." he stopped and took a breath. "So, uh, anyway, you head on out to patrol and I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, sheriff. I'll see you later."

With Justice following behind Unsuur went back out into the heat, walking together until they reached the stairs where Unsuur broke off to go up toward the temple and the sheriff continued on toward Arvio's.

So Arvio had done this sort of thing before, huh... It must have happened before Unsuur had arrived in Sandrock, or something. He couldn't think of anyone who had left in recent years that had ever mentioned being bothered by the shopkeeper. And, it was a good thing Justice was handling it; he hadn't wanted to seem like a jealous boyfriend in front of the sheriff but...he also didn't want to come across as a vengeful or possessive one either, and Arvio would probably listen if it was Justice giving the talking to instead of him. It was still going to make things very awkward between them all but if the guy couldn't learn when to stop then he sort of had it coming.

...oh, yeah, he needed to stop by Fang's today. He should really remember that.

---------------------------------

"And then tuck that end - no, the silver end - into that last loop you made."

Dawn was sitting behind him and casually draped over his shoulders, occasionally taking his hands in hers to show him how to thread or loop wire, and her voice was low and gentle and right at his ear as the wire heart knot - a smaller one, so she could wear it around her neck - steadily took shape in his hands. He'd chosen primarily copper with some silver threaded through, with a waxed leather cord; this was his third night working on it and Dawn assured him he'd get it done tonight (maybe...he was starting to get sidetracked) and that any lopsidedness he kept insisting was there was all in his head -- she was the builder, and this was a tinier version of what she'd made for him, so...he was going to trust her on that.

He stuck the silver wire through the last loop he'd made, grasped it with the padded pliers to pull it tight, then gently slipped it through to the backside of the heart. "All right... Now what?"

She pressed a kiss to his temple. "Now you're done. Twist the end with that extra copper tail and then pull it up toward the top where you're going to curl it into a loop, and then you'll attach one of the spare jump rings I brought and that's that."

His hands still felt hopelessly clumsy with the wire (it looked more fragile than it actually was) but with the needle nose pliers he managed an even twist and a narrowed loop at the top. Dawn took the heart and pliers from him, tightened the loop just a bit to keep the pointy ends secured, then stuck the ring in place and threaded it onto the cord; she shifted around to sit on the bed next to him and held it up around her neck.

"How's it look?"

"Better than I thought it would. You're a good teacher."

Laughing she clicked the clasp into place and craned her neck to look down at it. "Now this I can and will wear without worrying about damaging or losing it somewhere."

He had a sudden, and very vivid, mental image of her wearing the knot and nothing else, and felt himself flush from his hairline to his shoulders - if that was even possible. Without a mirror he couldn't tell for sure but knew he'd gotten real hot rather quickly.

"Uh, um, yep. It looks nice on your shelf. The stone heart, I mean. Because it's sitting on your shelf still, safe and sound," he said, standing up and taking his jacket off. "Sorry, it's hot in here. Want me to turn on a fan?"

Dawn giggled and leaned back on her elbows, fluttering her eyelashes at him. "I'M fine."

He tossed his jacket over a chair at his table and came back to sit next to her. "Whew, better... Tomorrow's the final check for the sandrunning courses, right?"

She nodded. "So far as I know - Catori wants to head out there around 10."

"Ok. Justice said he wanted to tag along for this one so I'll let him know in the morning."

"All right. And, so we don't accidentally oversleep again, I should probably get going."

Sad, but true. Unsuur helped her pack up the wire and the few tools she'd brought over, made sure there weren't any tiny slivers of wire left in the bed or on the floor, then walked her to the door and kissed her goodnight. He stood out on his front stoop until he saw her walk into her own house then went back inside and sat down on his bed, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, directing his words over toward the wall to his left. "-no offense Wilson but whenever she spends the night here I'll have to cover your eyes, or I can put you in the wardrobe if you'd be more comfortable in there. ...yeah, I'll think on it some more, you live here too but we also don't need an audience for, um. That."

After some time to cool down he finished doing the dishes and got into bed, letting his mind wander (but not TOO far - he didn't need to cool off again) and morning seemed to come too quickly. He made and ate breakfast and was in the bathroom when his entire house shook with a massive blast accompanied by the sound of a shattering window and a lot of water rushing...somewhere.

He hurried out of his bathroom and looked around; one of his front windows was broken and there were smoking, twisted metal pieces sitting on the floor just beneath the sill, with an acrid smell starting to fill the room as shouts and screams came from outside.

Barreling through his front door he came out to a scene of chaos: the water tower was a smoking and busted wreck, the water inside it had flooded this end of main street, and Justice and Pen were shouting back and forth at each other as they-

-chased Logan. Logan was here in town!

Or, he WOULD be in town for another twenty seconds, maybe. Astride his goat he was already galloping away, with Pen chasing him on foot and Justice trying and failing to saddle Truth, settling for just reins and riding bareback as he took up the chase too. Unsuur knew he wouldn't have time to even get Boulder out of the stable so he took off on foot as well, sprinting down the street -- he didn't think for an instant that he could catch up to Logan but maybe he could keep him in sight long enough that they could finally track him to his hideout.

The tracks had just come into view when the warning whistle for the train blared -- Unsuur couldn't be certain whether the train driver either didn't see Logan coming or actually intended to hit him with the train but as Logan neared the tracks the train was beginning to pull away from the station; ahead of him he heard Justice yelling for Logan to stop, for Truth to go faster - just yelling in general - as he pulled ahead of Pen who still stayed close behind him, and they all got to watch as Logan raced across the tracks and the train separated them.

Unsuur's heart dropped right through the soles of his boots when, as the train got out of the way, he saw Logan had slowed and was approaching Dawn, who was standing rigidly at the corner of her yard - still IN her yard, thankfully, so there was a fence between them even if it wouldn't do much to stop Logan from--

From...

He didn't want to think about it; instead he pushed himself into the hardest sprint he could manage. Even though it was just a handful of seconds it felt like forever, and he was immensely relieved when Logan finally turned his goat away and thundered off down the tracks away from Dawn (and them, but at this precise, specific moment in time, Dawn was all he cared about).

Justice and Pen kept going, chasing and hollering at Logan; Unsuur skidded to a halt and partially plowed into the fence, knocking the top slat loose on accident.

"Are...you...all right?" he panted. It felt like he was inhaling fire with every breath.

"Y-yes, I-- what happened?! That was Logan, and--"

"I'll be back," he interrupted, turning to rush off after the others.

Dawn was ok. He could safely leave her here in town and do his best to finally bring Logan in. Keeping Logan in view was now not possible for him or Pen, slow as they were on foot, so hopefully Justice could keep up and keep eyes on him but all Unsuur could do for now was run.

#Heart of Stone #HoS #Heart of Stone - ch 15 #mtas unsuur #mtas justice #mtas catori #mtas mi-an #my time at sandrock

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juneviews · 7 months

Note

I'm not interested in OhmNanon either, I watched their series "Bad Buddy". Twitter/X went crazy. Chinese fans, to be precise. Something keeps showing up on the main page. They even sent cars to GMMTV to explain why they were separated. He writes such nonsense. They say that OhmNanon wants to be together. I didn't observe them much. But it was obvious that something was wrong.

This is not normal behavior. They think that because they spent money on them, they have to get an explanation. They care about "ship", not them. Crossing boundaries is very bad. And I feel sorry for them.

Many fans treat their idols as toys. Without emotions. In their opinion, if they are actors, they are not people. Just their toys to play with and command. But they are humans. They do bad things, mistakes. They did something without thinking. Because they are people. Not angelic creatures. At the same time, they are idealized and treated as toys.

I have a full video on bl fanservice that tackles this exact topic, and yeah exactly, thai actors have become products. I'll share this real life encounter that really shook me bc I think it shows perfectly what you're saying: most of my classmates here in bangkok are gmmtv fans & bl fans. I told one of them that off was my favorite actor & she said word for word: "I think off is okay. but I don't like how much tay & gun always sideline him & do more fanservice than him & gun. it feels like gun doesn't care for him." apart from this statement being factually untrue, this girl basically told me the reason she doesn't like off is bc he doesn't get enough fanservice with his ship so he doesn't sell her the bl dream she wants to get. she did not understand that I talked about off individually, even though I am indeed an offgun fan, bc I love off OUTSIDE of offgun as well. she didn't even stop to think for a moment that off is my favorite actor bc he has the best personality ever, is incredibly talented, is beyond absolutely gorgeous & so fun to follow and stan... in that moment, she saw off as a product who was not performing what she wanted from him bc tay & gun ARE close friends and cuddly even though they're not a ship. and for me that really cemented the mindset that many toxic bl fans have. these are real people, with real life relationships & struggles, yet they want them to be only ONE THING: a bl ship that gives them what they want 24/7. there are many choices that off makes that I do not approve of, notably I feel like he doesn't push hard enough to get roles for his caliber that would put him at his most advantageous. and that's okay. as fucking OBSESSED with off as I have been for FOUR YEARS, I accept all of him & his choices & his failures & his mistakes. many people don't understand that. they don't want to stan a real life person, but a robot that they wish to own & control. it's sick honestly... and thai actors do not owe their fans an explanation for anything, especially for their fallouts & fights. maybe if fans opened their eyes they'd realize that likely the reason why long time best friends like ohmnanon barely interact anymore is bc of the fanservice culture that their bl ship has put them through 🤷‍♀️

xxx

#answers #gmmtv #off jumpol #also it was always clear to me that nanon didn't want to participate in bl culture but accepted this particular queer role bc he -#- liked the story. I think ON becoming this huge was unexpected & him having to perform so much fanservice & have -#- so much pressure from fans really affected him. nanon is not a bl boy & never was. I'm glad he's out of this mess.

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grandwretch · 1 year

Text

chapter 14 of once bitten, twice shy xiv. heaven’s on fire

read it here on ao3

"Tina's having a party Saturday night," Steve said. Eddie didn't answer, but it was a comfortable silence. A long exhale crackled through the phone, and Steve imagined smoke curling across Eddie's features and smiled. "Most of the old guard are gonna be there before they all head back to school for the fall. I know it's not really your scene, but we've hit almost every other Hawkins party this summer, and–"

"I don't mind going," Eddie said, and Steve sighed, grateful for the interruption. "I'm surprised you want to, though."

"Is there a party Steve Harrington doesn't want to go to?"

"Yeah, okay," Eddie snorted, showing about as much respect for Steve's reputation as he would Duran Duran– a reputation he wholeheartedly believed mere months ago. "You know what I mean, though, baby doll. You can't stand those people. I literally watched you jump into a pool so you didn't have to talk to Fischer in July."

Steve squirmed. The warmth of Eddie's concern and his own distaste for introspection mixed in his chest, making him restless. He fell back against his pillows, staring up at the smooth, perfect ceiling. He wished it were the popcorned chaos of Eddie's; These things were always easier to say when Eddie was holding his hand.

"I miss going out with you," Steve said, first, because it was the easiest to admit. "We haven't been anywhere but the diner since the club."

Eddie hummed. "Lotsa places to be other than Tina's place, with whole grades' worth of people you can't stand."

"I know," Steve said, because no one knew more than him how confusing his brain could be. "It's– I didn't really like parties before you, you know? They were too loud and crowded, but they were part of the job."

"The job," Eddie huffed, laughing the quiet way he did whenever talking about being 'King' like it was something he could put on a resume.

"Shut up, like you were any better, skulking around in the shadows outside."

"I was selling drugs, Stevie. For money. You know, like a real job?"

"You could sell drugs indoors, Munson, you're just dramatic," Steve said for the 500th time. Eddie's dismissive sniff told Steve he could go back to making his original point, now. Rolling his eyes with a grin, he continued, "Anyway, asshole, like I was saying before you interrupted me, the power of your love cured me of my hatred for loud bass and shitty alcohol."

Eddie's giggle was a thing of beauty, even over the Munsons' shitty receiver.

"I like people seeing us together," Steve confessed. "It makes us feel real."

"It is real," Eddie said, all warmth and sweetness.

"I know. And I know we can't tell people, but I still– I want them to see us. Them, specifically. That's all I've ever wanted."

To be seen with someone who owned him, someone who belonged to him. To feel safe and real and alive, with someone he loved to cover his back. To regain a little of what being King of the Hill had felt like, without the blood on his hands.

"Well shit," Eddie sighed. "My boyfriend wants to show me off to his high school buddies. How am I supposed to say no to that?"

They would have to go as 'friends' of course, but even showing up with Eddie Munson as a 'close friend' was enough of a declaration to send shivers down Steve's spine.

Tina's house wasn't far from Steve's, so they walked. Neither of them felt like getting drunk surrounded by assholes, but this way they could leave whenever without worrying about being boxed in by some rich asshole whose car cost more than his tuition.

Eddie's words, not Steve's.

Enough of that Harrington respectability had hung around to make Steve scoff at the idea of rocking up to a party on foot, but when they finally stepped through the threshold of Tina's childhood home, he was incredibly grateful for the escape plan. Steve had expected people's eyes on them, had asked for it, even, but he hadn't expected their gazes to stick so well. From the moment they arrived, they were the center of attention, but not... not in the way that Steve was used to. Not even in the way they had been this summer, an oddity of thought, something novel to have around the party to liven things up a little. No, these were people who knew Steve better than he wanted but not half as much as they should, and their intent felt like grime on his skin.

He was already regretting asking Eddie to take him here. It would have been infinitely better to spend the night curled in Eddie's arms on the couch, watching some stupid movie he didn't have a chance at understanding. At least there, they could touch without it raising someone's eyebrows.

"You good, Harrington?" Eddie asked, and dared to clasp a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Yeah," Steve said, and glanced around a living room that played a leading role in most of his nightmares. "Let's get this over with."

Eddie was kind enough not to say, 'I told you so'.

A few people said hello as they made their way into the thick of the party. No one who Steve had been particularly close to, really-- Mostly people who had been freshmen Steve's senior year, or former second strings who never really got up close and personal with King Steve. He didn't know if it was because of his previous reputation or his current one that kept his old cronies away, but whatever it was, Steve was grateful for it.

The last time he had been here, he had been on the precipice of his own decline. He had met Billy here, Steve remembered with a start-- He had become so used to remembering Hargrove in conjunction with the old Byers house and the mall that he'd almost forgotten. It had been planned, Steve thought, now. Tommy and Billy had wanted to catch him off guard, introduce him to his own replacement somewhere he wouldn't be in control, although he doubted either one of them had been smart enough to notice just how out of control Steve had been that night.

He wasn't in control now, either, Steve thought with a wry look Eddie's way. Whatever little social capital they had in this moment was all in Eddie's hands. Sure, Eddie liked to tease him for still being the preppy jock archetype, but Steve had all but fallen off the social map before their whirlwind summer. Eddie had a charge or two under his belt now, yeah, but amongst the right people that never mattered. Being a violent shithead had never ousted anyone before, and it certainly wouldn't be enough to completely exile the one guy in town who still knew where to get the good stuff.

Steve knew his classmates very well. They might have their quibbles with Eddie's verdict, might even be ready to kill him again Monday morning, but when they wanted to get high, all those 'ideals' fell away.

After Eddie waved the fourth potential customer away, citing a night off, Steve grinned. As annoyed as Eddie looked right now, being the tag-along was much preferrable to the fucked up psuedo-political machinations he would have been subjected to in high school. No one was approaching them to curry favor, or try to jockey for position. They just wanted to get loaded. Blessedly simple.

"I know you have a joint in your pocket," Steve said, throwing what he hoped was a casual arm around Eddie's shoulders. "You don't wanna make a quick buck? Take your girl out somewhere nice?"

Eddie shot Steve an unimpressed look. "My girl owes me a quick buck or two, actually, leaving me with you all night."

Steve shrugged. "She'll make it up to you."

With a hum, Eddie said, "If she knows what's good for her," and Steve couldn't suppress the shiver that trailed along his spine.

It was almost fun, flirting in secret in a room full of people. Sure, it was wildly dangerous, and Steve was sweating so hard he could already feel his shirt sticking to his skin, but Steve had long since stopped having a normal reaction to 'danger'. Besides, they were tucked away against the staircase, loud music neither of them enjoyed drowning out their conversation. No one would look twice at two assholes who peaked in high school talking trash about some girl. It made Steve feel skeevy and dirty, but he couldn't hide the giddy grin as his stomach swooped when Eddie looked at him, heavy and knowing.

"You gonna ask me to dance or what, Munson?" Steve said, instead of kissing him.

Before Eddie could answer a voice rang across the room, calling Eddie's name.

Steve could feel his body snap to attention, every muscle going tight with adrenaline. Even before he could pinpoint the direction the voice was coming from, he could feel his body shift into fight. He didn't like people just walking up to Eddie, not after the months of harassment and all the work it had taken just to get Eddie through the rest of the semester alive. The anxiety had faded with time, after a summer of simplicity, but with one unfamiliar voice wrapped around Eddie's name, it was back.

Eddie's hand wrapped around Steve's wrist, stilling him, as Steve's gaze settled on the person approaching them. He had missed her in the crowd at first, expecting the tall, imposing figure of one of Jason's erstwhile rivals-- She was the opposite, small and petite, though... Well, Steve thought, glancing down at her leather fingerless gloves and boots the size of his head, perhaps no less imposing for it.

Though she had called Eddie's name, her eyes were on Steve, and they didn't seem impressed. He recognized her from somewhere, he thought, but he couldn't remember from where, and in Steve's experience, that usually wasn't a great sign for his chances at making a friend. It had worked maybe once, with Robin, and it had taken a shit load of Russians and almost dying to make that happen. Every other time had gone to shit very quickly, with the other person pulling out a dozen offenses that Steve couldn't even remember-- Which was the entire problem.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Munson," she said, though her eyes still were locked on Steve-- Specifically his clothes, Steve noted. He frowned down at the pale blue polo. He knew it wasn't exactly cool, but Eddie had said it made his skin look nice.

Eddie had actually said it made his skin look "like buttery silk touched gently by the sun," but that was embarrassing even in Steve's own head.

"Beverley Hanlon," Eddie said, and Steve's frown deepened at the sheer affection in his voice. Eddie was allowed to have friends, he told himself sternly, even very pretty ones you've never met before. "Aren't you supposed to be in Boston somewhere?"

"They let me out for good behavior," Beverley joked. At least, Steve thought she was joking. Probably. Tina didn't seem the kind to let a convicted criminal into her house... without Steve smuggling them in. "I was visiting home for the summer and Paul dragged me here. Said it would be good to catch up with old friends. I told him none of my old friends would be caught dead in this place, but here you are."

"Here I am," Eddie said with a lazy grin. "Stevie, this is Beverly-- One of the founding members of the Hellfire Club. Bev, this is Steve."

The unimpressed gaze made its way back to Steve. "We've met," Bev said flatly.

"Yup," Steve said, entirely unlike a man who remembered that happening. "You were... the grade ahead of me, right? Ed's class."

"Yup," she repeated, popping the 'p' mockingly. "Front row seat to an entire three years of the Steve Harrington experience."

"Right," Steve said, his stomach twisting. "It was good seeing you again. Um, Ed, I'm gonna-- Do you want a drink? I'm gonna get a drink."

Eddie's frown made the pain hit just a little deeper, and the concern in his eyes did nothing to balm it. The last thing Steve wanted was to make a scene in front of one of Eddie's friends, especially one who already hated him, but Eddie was too good to just let it lie. His voice dipped into a whisper, hand tightening around Steve's wrist. "Baby..."

Part of Steve wanted to give in, wanted to be soothed, but a larger part of him felt even worse for it. It felt overwhelming, suddenly, to have Eddie call for him so gently. Beverley's presence made it worse, her judgment a physical thing on his skin, and it hurt to be loved and know she didn't think he deserved it. He couldn't take it, and he didn't want to explain it. More than that, he didn't want to ruin Eddie's opportunity to reconnect with a friend. God knew he needed more of them, needed more than Steve could give to him.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Steve repeated, pulling his wrist from Eddie's grip.

The route to Tina's kitchen was almost muscle memory. It had been years since he'd shown up to one of these, but before the fall of King Steve, they had been an often enough affair that Tina's house was as familiar to him as Tommy's or Carol's. Her parents' hadn't changed much over the years, the same decor like landmarks on the walls. Steve took a turn by the overlarge cuckoo clock, the one he'd almost smashed with a bottle sophomore year, slipped through the doorway in the green wall, and--

Oh.

Tommy Hagan stood in the kitchen, staring down at a plastic cup on the counter in front of him. Steve hesitated just long enough for Tommy to look up, their eyes meeting across the room.

In an instant, Steve was in the last moment he'd seen Tommy, standing sore and dirty in the Warzone. As bad as he and Tommy had ended, Steve had never considered that his... old friend might be one of the idiots brainwashed by Jason's prejudice. Not even when Vickie's ex-boyfriend was there, home from college, did he think any of the people from his grade would be stupid enough to listen to some dumbfuck kid.

But there Tommy had been, just as Steve had left him.

The fight had been quiet, but had torn Steve apart in a way that the demobat's couldn't reach. Every healed wound was reopened, every argument relitigated, but Steve had gotten the last word.

"If you want to keep pretending to get the approval of people who would kill you if they knew who you were, go ahead, Tommy," Steve had said, "but I'm fucking sick of it."

When they had gotten back into the RV, Steve's hands were shaking. That was the last time he would ever see Tommy Hagan, he told himself, one way or another.

But apparently fucking not.

It was too late to go back to the party. Tommy had seen him now, and there was no way Steve was going to give Tommy the pleasure of backing down.

Steve forced himself to enter the kitchen properly, the door shutting behind him. Tommy's eyes never left him, but he forced himself to look down and away, focusing on the bottles of alcohol on the counter. He reached for a bottle of whiskey and a plastic cup, something simple to sip at while he pretended the vast gap between Steve's high school career and Eddie's didn't still scare the shit out of him. This night would be good, and if it couldn't be good, it was at least going to be easy. Steve wouldn't let it be anything else.

"Hey," Tommy said. Steve didn't flinch. Tommy had never let Steve have anything easy; He hadn't expected Tommy to start now.

"Hi," Steve said. He didn't look up until he was done pouring himself a shot. When their eyes finally met again, Steve let himself smile. It wasn't a nice smile, but it felt right on his face, felt good like a knife slipping easily between the ribs. "How's Carol?"

It wasn't his subtlest slight. Tommy barely flinched, but he had never been great at hiding his emotions from Steve, and the frown was evident in the corners of his mouth, of his eyes.

"We broke up," Tommy said, after a moment, and Steve-- Well, that was almost a surprise. He had half expected them to make each other miserable forever, to be old and grey and mean as fuck and convinced they were in love simply because they didn't know anything else. He used to imagine himself as a part of it, too, with dread deep in his stomach. Used to imagine the relief he would feel on his deathbed, finally escaping them.

"Good for Carol," Steve said, and, mouth dry, threw back his shot. Tommy watched him as he poured a new one.

"I thought about what you said, last time," Tommy said, and Steve couldn't help but laugh a little, shaking his head. "No, really, Stevie--"

"Don't. You can't--" Steve's hands shook as he put the bottle back down on the counter. "You don't get to try and fucking win me back. That wasn't the point. I don't-- I don't want you to choose me anymore, Tommy. I got tired of waiting."

"Then what was the point?"

"For you to stop being fucking angry all the time!"

"Oh, like you're one to ta--"

Steve cut across Tommy's words with a hiss. "You joined a fucking lynch mob." Tommy paused, his eyes going wide. Something in Steve's chest broke at that, still a sucker for those big eyes. He had a fucking type, apparently, and it wasn't just Eddie and Nancy-- It was everyone, everyone he'd ever loved, big-eyed broken hearts that Steve wanted to hold together with his own bloody hands. "You were going to kill someone because you were too chicken shit to have someone think you might not be 'normal'. Like it's normal to be so mad at life you kill a guy for listening to music you don't like."

Tommy didn't answer, just downed his own drink. Steve reached for the sours, making some concoction that was more whiskey than mix. He couldn't do this. He couldn't fucking--

"So are you here with him?" Tommy asked. Steve looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. "With Munson. You're here with him?"

No. No, Steve was done. Something about Eddie's name in Tommy's voice made Steve's brain go static. He wasn't playing this game anymore. Had no need for it. This fucked up ritual of posturing and pretension in someone else's kitchen wasn't who Steve was anymore. He fucking refused to spend the rest of the night sad and sick at his stomach, unable to reach the cool, untouchable facade of Tommy Hagan.

"Is this how you felt that night, with Billy?" Steve asked, instead. Tommy didn't speak, which was really the only answer Steve needed. "Right. Cool. Fuck this. Bye, Hagan."

He left the whiskey on the counter behind him.

Steve returned to Eddie's side just as frantic as he had left him, and it took every ounce of practiced repression that Steve had not to throw himself into Eddie's arms. At least Bev's eyes were kinder, now, though in some ways that made it worse. Steve didn't want to know what lies Eddie had decided to tell her about their relationship, about Steve's descent into dork-hood, about spring break. Mostly, he wanted to cry, but he settled for pressing a little too close into Eddie's side, their arms flush from shoulder to elbow.

"You alright, princess?" Eddie asked, his voice dropped low enough that Steve knew the name was meant to gentle, not to tease. God, Steve loved this man.

"I'm fine," he said, eyes darting to Bev and then back away. "Ran into Tommy in the kitchen. Didn't feel much like drinking anymore."

For a moment, Steve could see it becoming an Issue, Capital I, in Eddie's eyes. They hadn't really talked about Tommy, or his involvement with Jason's group of dipshits, not like they talked about Nancy. Steve had assumed it was all pretty obvious, from the letter jacket to the girlfriend, obvious and pathetic and embarrassing. But apparently Eddie had assumptions of his own, because Steve watched his eyes slide slowly to the direction of the kitchen, watched them go dark with determination. It wasn't anger, just a surety that Steve recognized from the mirror, the mental equivalent of planting your feet in the dirt and daring someone to move you.

Eddie looked at the kitchen like it contained an enemy, not the most pathetic man that Steve had ever known.

"Not that big a deal," Steve said, softly. "Don't worry about it."

"Right," Eddie said, and after a beat, turned back to Beverly. "Sorry, what were you saying about parking?"

The conversation picked back up like Steve had never interrupted, although a little softer now, with spaces at the edges like they were both waiting for Steve to join them. He didn't feel the need, didn't feel like the energy would be worth what it took to craft himself into a functioning person.

He kept close to Eddie, instead. Too close to be written off as just friends, honestly, close enough to get them both killed if the wrong person looked at them twice. And people were looking. Of course they were; Steve Harrington's arm was wrapped around Eddie Munson's waist, fingers tangled in the chain that spilled from his lover's pocket. How could they not look? Even Beverly seemed shocked, like even all her years of freakery at Eddie's side hadn't prepared her for the depth of Steve's need. Steve only pressed closer, the metal on Eddie's belt biting into his skin. He didn't care.

Neither, it seemed, did Eddie, which was more of a surprise. Steve had prepared himself to be pushed away. Had already begun placating the longing thing in his chest that it wasn't a true rejection, that Eddie was only doing what was smart. That he needed to get hurt to keep them safe. But Eddie never moved from his side. Never said a word about it, either, just slung a nonchalant arm over Steve's shoulders.

It was so fucking stupid, wasn't it? Stupid of Steve to stand this close, and hold so tightly. Stupid of Eddie to let him. Tears stung at Steve's eyes. He'd never been loved enough to be loved stupidly before. But Steve had enough of logical affection. Nancy and Tommy were so, so careful with him, but never in the ways that mattered. They measured their love into bits and pieces, rationing it out when it was safe. When it was allowed. Not Eddie, though.

Eddie held him in full view of the entire fucking town, if Steve needed it badly enough.

"Do you know that guy?" Beverly asked, loud enough that even Steve followed her eyeline.

Tommy stood against the far wall, far enough away that he couldn't hear their conversation, but close enough he couldn't be ignored. His gaze burned on Steve's skin. He didn't look disgusted or angry, not like Steve would have expected a mere six months ago, but there was an intensity to his eyes that Steve didn't like. He pressed himself further into Eddie's side.

"Tell me to go talk to him," Eddie said. Like he was letting Steve call the shots. Like he was asking for permission. "It'll be quick, I promise."

"Just get me out of here." Steve's hand slid up from Eddie's hip, fingers bunching the hem of Eddie's shirt in his palm. "Somewhere we can be alone. Please."

For a moment, it looked like Eddie was going to argue. Steve tried to beg silently for him to understand-- There were at least a dozen people looking at them right now, Tommy the least to worry about. Steve had leverage on Tommy, Steve knew things about Tommy that would kill his reputation with more than just their friends. Tommy couldn't say shit without Steve taking him down with him. They both knew that.

But if Eddie started shit in public, there was nothing Steve could do. In fact, it would only be more damning. Steve tried not to think about what the neighbors would tell his parents, if it were rumor that Eddie and Tommy had fought over him.

Common sense won out. Eddie shrugged and turned to Bev with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, Hanlon. We gotta step out for a second. Maybe I'll see you around."

Bev shrugged. "Don't worry about it, Eddie. You guys have a nice night..." She met Steve's eyes. "It was nice to meet you, Steve."

"You too," Steve lied. It was too bad, he thought as Eddie led him away. It would have been nice to actually have a good time with one of Eddie's friends. He'd yet to meet one who didn't hate him on sight, but it was always nice to dream. Maybe the next time would be easier, if Beverly stuck around until school started back. Gareth still hadn't deigned to be in the same room with him a second time.

Leading Steve up the staircase, Eddie tangled their fingers together. The second floor was empty, enough to give Steve the bravery to cling onto his boyfriend. There was a bathroom on this landing, Steve remembered, a bathroom where--

"In here," he said, without thinking. "Can we just-- In here?"

Without answering, Eddie pulled him into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

"Okay," Eddie said, voice shaking. "Do you want to tell me what--" He was cut off by Steve flinging himself into Eddie's arms. It was clumsy, more like a tackle than a hug. Steve's shoulder hit Eddie square in the chest, sending them both stumbling back, knocking into the wall and sending towels and loofahs tumbling off the rickety rack beside them. Eddie's arms came up around Steve before the impact even registered, just as tight as Steve was clinging to him. "Hey, hey. It's okay, Stevie. It's okay. He's not going to touch you."

Steve laughed wetly, his tears seeping into Eddie's t-shirt. "It's not-- Fuck Tommy Hagan. I don't care about-- Fuck, Eddie, I don't care about him." Eddie said nothing, just stroked one hand down Steve's spine, waiting. Steve took one shuddering breath before continuing, "I just don't understand why it has to be so fucking hard all the time."

"I'm sorry." Eddie's voice was soft, but there was a guilt there that was all too familiar to Steve. He forced himself to pull out of Eddie's embrace enough to make eye contact.

"It's not your fault," Steve said, sliding one hand around to rest on Eddie's chest. "It's never your fault, when I-- when I get like this. I promise."

Eddie pushed a messy lock of hair back into place, away from Steve's forehead, and smiled sadly. "It'd be easier, though, if you weren't worried about being in love with the Freak."

"It wouldn't," Steve said, pushing closer again. He stooped low enough to rest his forehead on Eddie's collarbone, curling against him. "You're the only thing that's ever been easy."

"This is the second time I've made you cry at a party," Eddie said, but there was a smile in his voice now. Steve nudged his nose into Eddie's skin and sighed.

"I made myself cry, both times," Steve reminded him. "We're not even fighting this time. I just got into my own head about meeting your friend, and then--" He swallowed. "Well, Tommy."

"I wish I could make it easier for you," Eddie said. He dipped his head to press a kiss to Steve's clothed shoulder. Steve smiled and leaned into the contact, loving the warmth filling him up from Eddie's easy acceptance. Every day, Eddie's lack of judgment when it came to Steve's quirks made his brain quiet enough to manage.

"This makes it easier," Steve said. He cradled Eddie's face in his hands, tilting Eddie's chin up so Steve could litter his face with kisses. "Being yours makes it so, so easy."

"You're trying to butter me up." Far from sounding put out, Eddie's arms wrapped back around Steve's waist, pulling him roughly against Eddie's chest.

"Trying to seduce you, actually," Steve said, lightly. Nothing banished the shadows from his mind like touch. Just Eddie's skin against his could cure him, Steve thought, if the world didn't demand distance between them just to get through another day. He tried to forget that separation waited in the wings, tried to pretend that the entire world was here, inside this bathroom. Swallowed down his tears and hid a smile under the curve of Eddie's jaw. "Is it working?"

Eddie sighed, but he was already backing Steve up against the sink, crowding him into the porcelain. Steve clung to Eddie's shoulders as Eddie's body forced him off balance, his back curving over the sink, towards the mirror, the facsimile of a dip.

"One of these days, Harrington, I'm going to put a stop to these little distractions of yours." Despite his protest, Steve could hear Eddie's interest in the scratch of his voice, could feel it in the way Eddie's fingers gripped at his body.

Steve angled their faces together, humming against Eddie's lips in mock thought. "You can certainly try."

With a growl, Eddie kissed him.

Steve wondered if he would ever get used to the way Eddie kissed him. It was ridiculous, he thought, as Eddie licked into his mouth, that Eddie could take him apart this way with so little effort. They had done very little together but kiss for weeks now, even their public hangouts culminating in an hour or two of necking. It wasn't like Eddie was the first person to ever kiss him. Eddie wasn't even the first man to ever kiss him.

Fuck if Eddie couldn't set him on fire, though.

"You drive me fucking insane," Eddie groaned as he dragged his open mouth across Steve's cheek.

"Yeah?" Steve's voice shouldn't be so breathless, he knew that, but hearing his own voice wrecked like that only made his chest pull tighter.

"Using all my best moves and you're a mile away." Eddie pressed impossibly closer, his teeth digging gently into the meat of Steve's cheek, just enough for Steve to feel the pressure and shiver against him. "What are you thinking about, huh, Stevie? What's got my sweetheart's attention?"

"Thinking about you," Steve promised. "Always thinking about you, Eddie."

Eddie's hand slid into Steve's hair, gripping at the fine hairs at the nape of Steve's hair until they stung enough to make him gasp. "I'm right here, baby. Don't go floating away on me yet."

Steve didn't bother replying, just pulled against Eddie's grip, trying to connect their mouths again. Eddie tutted, the kind of condescending that sent shivers down Steve's spine. "None of that, now," Eddie said. He no longer needed his hands to keep Steve in place, his body keeping Steve's solidly pinned against the porcelain of the sink. His free hand was much better used trailing a thumb down the exposed tendon in Steve's neck as Eddie surveyed Steve with flashing eyes. "You gonna tell me what's got you so eaten up inside, Stevie?"

"I told you," Steve whined. He was getting better at talking about his feelings; At least, he was trying. Steve honestly thought he was miles ahead of where he used to be. Sure, he still started fights now and again, but it wasn't out of sheer desire to never let himself any emotion but anger. If anything, he was a little too in touch with his emotions. He felt like they were spilling out of his mouth constantly, with or without his permission. At first he'd thought it was a result of the adrenaline, the way he was always confessing something embarassing after life or death situations. Or before them. But no one had tried to kill him recently, and it still seemed like Steve was admitting one mortifying secret after another.

"You've hinted," Eddie challenged. "You haven't told me what really happened. If he... I don't know how you two ended. But if Tommy is a problem.."

There was a moment, where Eddie was trying to find the words to say. Steve could already hear them, though, the same words Robin had tried to ask-- Had tried to ask about Eddie, too, recently. He wondered what it was about him that screamed victim to the people who loved him, what made them always assume he had been hurt in some terrible way. It was sweet that they wanted to protect him, but a part of Steve was a little sick of it, too. He wasn't a child. He could handle asshole exes.

"It wasn't like that," Steve said, and at the dubious look in Eddie's eyes, he shook his head, laughing a little at the ridiculousness of the situation. "No, seriously, Ed. Tommy and I got in fights, yeah, especially at the end, but I was just as mean as him. I hit harder, too. Sure, he hurt me, but it wasn't-- It was like Nancy and I, really, except worse. We couldn't talk, and it wasn't that we didn't want to, we were just fucking terrified of saying what we actually wanted. That wasn't Tommy's fault." It hurt to admit, but Steve was fairly sure that the nebulous mess of his and Tommy's relationship was just as much his fault as anybody else's. Sure, Tommy had been the one to constantly choose Carol, over and over, but Steve hadn't exactly asked to be chosen. He had been content, even pursued Nancy out of some need to complete the perfect image the three of them had already begun. He had been the one to fall in love with someone else, too, no matter how much it stung when Tommy threw it in his face.

"So why are we hiding in a bathroom then, baby?" Eddie asked.

Steve bit his lip, a smile quirking the edges of his lips despite himself when Eddie's eyes flicked down, distracted. He took a second to gather himself, almost wishing he had the strength to push Eddie away for this conversation. "You're not going to like it," he said.

"Wow, I'm not going to like what's making my boyfriend cry? Shocker."

"It's about spring break," Steve said, and watched the teasing smile fade from Steve's face with a sick feeling in his stomach.

"Tommy was..."

"Yeah. Yeah, he came home for break, and-- And he and Jason hadn't exactly been close, you know, with Jason being so new and all, but he had looked up to us, and he was always so eager to do what Tommy said, and Tommy isn't exactly great at breaking from the pack. I mean, you saw how he was with--" Steve's throat tightened. "You know, with Billy."

Eddie's lips pursed. "Beginning to sense a pattern there, yeah."

"I don't know what's worse," Steve said, "the idea that he never really knows how bad they are or the idea that he just doesn't care."

There was a long moment as Eddie took a deep breath, and then he said: "Stevie, baby, you know that doesn't have anything to do with you, right?"

"I think it--" Steve laughed, wetly, tears caught in his throat. "I think it has a lot to do with me, actually."

"No--"

"Eddie. Tommy was my best friend for years. I was in love with him. And he's-- He's a terrible fucking person. I cut him loose and the next guy he's cozying up to is Billy fucking--" Steve could feel himself start to spiral again, even in the firm press of Eddie's body. "Did Lucas ever tell you what Billy tried to do to him? He was gonna run him over. Even worse, maybe, that night he showed up to my house. And Tommy fucking introduced me to him like it was going to make me jealous. And it did. I was jealous of a man who wanted to kill little kids."

"Steve," Eddie tried, but Steve was galloping away without him.

"And then Jason Carver. Tommy was gone, he was out of here, but he couldn't even make it one week without throwing in with the asshole who was going to kill you. They were going to kill you, Eddie."

"I know, baby. I know."

"Tommy was going to kill you, and he-- He loved me. He did, he loved me. And he was going to kill you, Eddie. So what the fuck's the matter with me?"

"I--" Eddie looked lost, honestly, and Steve's heart broke a little. He wanted Eddie to tell him he was crazy, wanted Eddie to make it all go away, but even Eddie couldn't untangle the chaos of Steve's thoughts. "There's nothing wrong with you, Stevie. You can't take responsibility for something he did two years after you stopped talking to the guy. Like, what, you're gonna blame yourself for everything he does for the next ten years, too?"

"You don't get it. It's like... It's like, Tommy only chooses the worst people. Just, the worst fucking people Hawkins has to offer. So-- so why was I one of them? What's fucking wrong with me that the only person to ever want to own me is--"

"I'm gonna have to stop you right there," Eddie said, his voice the kind of gentle that spoke of intent. "Because I think you're confused, baby. You don't belong to Tommy, do you?"

Confusion brought Steve's rising panic to a halt, had him looking up at Eddie with a furrowed brow. "No? No, obviously not. I wouldn't--"

"Steve." Just a little firmer now, Eddie's gentle hands cupped Steve's thighs and lifted him up just enough that one of Eddie's thighs could slide between them. "Who do you belong to, baby?"

"Oh," Steve gasped, the air rushing out of him. "I--" Eddie seemed to be content to wait, but there was no amusement in his eyes, just the intense stare of a man waiting for the right moment.

Steve swallowed. "You?" he tried, then flushed when a grin broke over Eddie's face in approval. Still, whatever lurked in Eddie's eyes wasn't exactly happiness. It was a little darker than that, a little hungrier, a little meaner. Steve knew he should probably be worried, at least be a little more attached to the panic that had seemed so all consuming, but the sight of what Steve hoped might be possession in Eddie's eyes had him flushing with excitement instead.

"That's right," Eddie said, and pressed a kiss to Steve's cheek as if to prove it. "You're all mine. No one else gets to have you, because no one else can take care of you right, can they, sweetheart? No one else knows how to treat my Stevie. Especially not Tommy fucking Hagan."

"Yours," Steve promised, heart in his throat.

Eddie hummed in agreement, nosing his way lower to mouth at Steve's jaw. When he'd had his fill of the scratch of Steve's stubble against his tongue, he said, "And I only have the best, right? Don't I deserve it, baby boy?"

"You deserve everything, Ed," Steve breathed, clinging to Eddie's shoulders.

Sighing, Eddie dug his fingers into the muscle of Steve's thighs, the slight ache the perfect punishment for Steve's racing mind. "Then my baby should be the best, right? You're the only one I got, sweetheart. And I don't know what you were like, when Tommy Hagan tried to make you his. Doesn't really matter, either, because you're mine now, and you're the best fucking thing this town has to offer. That's all I know. Fuck everything else."

Steve pulled at Eddie's shirt, his hands going so tight he could feel the bite of his nails in his palms even through the thin fabric. He didn't know what to say, couldn't find a way to make his logic work without insulting Eddie or his choices-- Logic that made about much sense as Eddie's did, if Steve was honest with himself; Both of them were arguments Nancy would scoff at, circular and emotional and, frankly, stupid. But it made Steve want to cry anyway, because Eddie wanted the very best, and Eddie wanted him.

"Prove it," Steve said, because otherwise he would sob and he wasn't sure if he would ever stop.

"Prove what? Use your words, big boy. I know you can."

Pulling a little harder, Steve bullied Eddie back just enough to look him in the eye. "Prove that I'm yours. That I'm-- that I'm the best."

Eddie shifted his weight, throwing Steve even further off balance. There wasn't a word for what Eddie was doing now other than looming; With no real height difference, Eddie had made himself one, using every trick he knew to make himself large and imposing. Steve's entire field of vision was swallowed up by Eddie, all black cotton and leather. Eddie leaned in close, smiling that wolfish grin.

"Yeah, I can do that for you, baby," Eddie said, his hot breath against Steve's lips.

And then Steve was being consumed.

It was impossible to think when Eddie kissed him like this, and although Robin had tried to wheedle details out of Steve, he had always failed to put into words just how Eddie made him feel. The simple fact of the matter was that Steve would never be able to properly describe it, because that required his brain to be coherent enough to remember anything. Even in the moment, Steve didn't have words for what he was feeling. There was no fancy language or purple prose that floated through his head, no inner monologue, just the vague recognition of hot and wet and sheer animal instinct.

Steve felt very, very sorry for all the girls who had once called him the best kisser in Hawkins, because this was so much better than anything he'd ever managed in high school.

After a moment, Eddie began to back off, and Steve recognized the move. It seemed that getting Steve riled up was half the fun for Eddie, and it only took a couple days for Steve to see a pattern begin to emerge. Eddie would kiss him until he could scarcely breathe, much less think, and then pull back. What was once tongue and teeth would become chaste and gentle, patient, and then Eddie would hold it over his head as Steve went crazy trying to get Eddie's tongue back in his mouth. It was mean, and Steve would be more irritated by how obviously Eddie got off on it if it didn't feel so good for Eddie to hold him down and make him take what Eddie was willing to give.

Steve's cock began to thicken in his pants, far too turned on for some juvenile necking at a bathroom. Mostly sober, even. Steve had a reputation to keep up, steady boyfriend or not, and while he knew Eddie wasn't exactly going to talk about his performance in the locker rooms, getting a stiffy every time he got his mouth on Eddie's was the antithesis of cool. It wasn't hot, either. It was lukewarm. Tepid. The kind of baby shit Steve had stopped doing in the 10th grade. With that in mind, Steve broke the kiss to catch his breath, and groaned when Eddie took it as a sign to attach his teeth to Steve's neck, instead. Squirming, Steve tried to angle his hips away from Eddie's. Unfortunately, it only made more clear the firm press of Eddie's cock against his thigh. Eddie didn't seem as concerned, focused intently on the hickey he was leaving on Steve's pulse point, but suddenly Steve was able to think of very little else.

It was dizzying, just the idea of Eddie, thick and hard. It was hard to get an idea of what he looked like by touch alone, but Steve had more than enough imagination to make up for it. Steve's mouth flooded with saliva as he pictured it, what it might feel like warm and heavy in his hand, on his tongue-- Fuck, if Steve thought the fantasies were bad when Eddie touched him, then they were even worse when Eddie kissed him. If he'd had even a fraction of strength left in his limbs, then Steve might have pushed Eddie away and sunk to his knees on the tile floor. That, at least, would keep the issue of his new hair trigger cock out of the equation for a little while. But pinned against the sink, Steve had little to no leverage, and as Eddie laved down to his collarbone to start work anew, he wasn't sure he really wanted to.

What he needed was a distraction, really. As he clung to Eddie, whining high when teeth closed around the tendons in his throat and tugged gently, Steve tried to think of anything else. Anything else. The world that had seemed so upsetting before now seemed a thousand miles away, and he struggled to sift through the memories of just a few moments ago. Tina's party, he made himself remember, and the ugly couch with the ratty upholstery they kept in their basement. The awful orange tile backsplash in their kitchen. The burn of the vodka down his throat. The music, so loud he could still hear it now, bass thumping up through the floor and into his bones, the distant whine of an electric guitar.

With a giggle, Steve realized he recognized the song. Vaguely, of course; It was the kind of recognition he had for the soaps Mrs. Buckley watched while he helped her with dinner, viewed through the fog of apathy. It wasn't one of Eddie's songs. In fact, the only reason Steve remembered it at all was that it had once inspired a ninety minute diatribe against the evils of 'glam metal', one which had only settled after Steve had revealed that, actually, he thought Slash was kinda hot. Eddie had been so aghast at Steve getting the band wrong that he hadn't been able to continue to besmirch them, and that had been the end of that. The giggles continued, as Steve remembered the betrayed little looks Eddie had sent him for the rest of the day.

"Something funny, buttercup?" Eddie said, biting harder at Steve's throat.

Steve hummed just to feel his skin vibrate against Eddie's teeth. "They're playing your song," he said, every syllable falling into laughter.

After a brief moment, Eddie snorted and pulled away. He was so fucking beautiful, Steve thought, with his pupils blown and his smile sharp. He was beautiful everyday, of course, but mostly like this, when he was looking at Steve like he was something to eat. "If you're listening to the music, I must not be doing a very good job," he muttered, eyes narrowing.

Doing too damn good a job, Steve didn't say. The brief distraction had rid Steve of the fear of coming untouched like a virgin, but his dick still throbbed insistently in his pants. "Guess not," he said, barely holding himself back from panting.

"Yeah, okay, Harrington." Eddie patted him on the hip. "Hop up."

"What?"

Rolling his eyes, Eddie once again grabbed Steve by the thighs, but this time he lifted, sliding Steve up and back to perch on the lip of the sink. Steve blinked in surprise. He'd known Eddie had some strength from that moment in the boat house, and had never forgotten that the man could apparently throw him around anytime Steve asked for it, but he hadn't expected to actually be... well, picked up and thrown. Not that there had been very far to go, but... Fuck.

Steve could feel himself flushing as Eddie pushed his legs apart, stepping into the cradle he made there. "Now I've got you where I want you," Eddie said, smug and self-assured, and Steve could only reach up for a kiss.

Despite Steve's enthusiastic appeal, Eddie refused to let Steve take charge. Any hands that reached for sensitive areas were batted away, and when Steve's kisses delved too deep, Eddie grabbed him by the hair and pulled him away. It was torture in the worst way, not least of all because Eddie was doing all he could to be as tempting as possible. Every moment, every kiss and caress, every roll of his hips was choreographed and perfectly placed. Steve had never witnessed anything like it. Never had someone perform for him like this-- Because that's what this was. Eddie was seducing him like it was a performance, like Eddie was on stage and working the crowd. Steve had never gotten a lap dance before, but he'd heard of them, from the guys who weren't afraid to pay for the seedier shit. This wasn't the same, some no-touch tease of a thing with a girl whose name you barely knew, but Steve figured the appeal was the same. Sex and a show, someone sexy wrapped in leather and all their attention on you. The beat of the song vibrated through Steve's bones, no longer from the stereo downstairs but because Eddie was fucking him at 124 beats per minute.

Because he was being fucked. The fact they both still had their fucking pants on was doing nothing to change the way Steve felt like he was being fucking taken apart, or the fact that Eddie had him pinned and desperate. Even though it dulled the edge of pleasure, Steve could still feel the jut of Eddie's cock against his own as Eddie rocked into him. He'd had his fair share of dry humping, girls and guys alike, and it had never felt like this. It was supposed to be distracted and silly, something horny teens who didn't know better gave into, but this was...

This was Eddie, stupid and messy and unplanned in someone else's bathroom, and Steve felt like he was drowning in it.

"Doing okay, princess?" Eddie asked, panting open-mouth against Steve's ear.

Steve threw back his head and moaned. Before he could even recover, Eddie's teeth were around his Adam's apple, digging in softly.

"I'm gonna fucking come," Steve said outloud, the crown of his head bumping against the mirror behind him. Before he said it out loud, he hadn't realized how true it was. His underwear was wet with precum, and it dragged minutely against the head of his cock with every thrust even as it did its best to escape the fabric. Every shift against his sensitive skin brought just the barest edge of pain, and Steve wasn't sure if his balls were drawing tight because of it or in spite of it, but he was hurtling towards the edge regardless. Steve's toes curled in his shoes, another reminder of how much better this would all be if he was just fucking naked. Eddie showed no signs of stopping, his head dropping to Steve's shoulder as he focused entirely on the cant of their bodies together.

"God, yeah," Eddie groaned, just loud enough for Steve to hear. "Let 'em hear you cum, baby. Let the whole fucking party know you're up here getting railed like the slut you are."

There were several things Steve wanted to say that-- He wanted to protest being called a slut, wanted to tease Eddie that if he wanted to 'rail' Steve he was going to have to do a little better than this. What Steve's brain wanted to do had very little to do with what his body was doing, however, because his cock fucking loved it. He felt himself twitch against the fabric once, twice more at the sheer thought of someone downstairs hearing him come apart, and then he was spilling into the already sodden fabric of his pants.

Clinging onto the last bit of common sense left in his dizzy little brain, Steve didn't cry out as his hips jerked, artless, against Eddie's. He buried his face in Eddie's neck and choked his way through it, teeth gritted against the sob rising in his throat.

Eddie dropped the performance in the face of Steve's desperate embrace, his own grip becoming softer. "There you go, sweetheart. God, my pretty baby," Eddie crooned, dropping kisses against whatever bits of Steve's skin he could reach. As Steve tried not to squirm his way off the sink during the aftershocks, Eddie continued his soft litany of nonsensical endearments.

"What does it say about me," Steve panted into Eddie's neck, "that I've been having sex for four years and that's the hardest I've ever come?"

Laughing, Eddie cupped the back of Steve's head, smoothing down the wayward hair there. It was a sweet gesture, caring in its absentminded way, and Steve pulled back enough to stare up at Eddie, delighted.

"I think it means you have a really sexy boyfriend," Eddie said, smug as anything.

With a roll of his eyes, Steve said, "I think my sexy boyfriend should let me return the favor." Then he hooked his pointer fingers into Eddie's waistband and waited for the smirk on Eddie's face to fade into shock.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asked, as Steve's wandering hands made their way to his fly. "I just wanted to get you out of your head, baby. You really don't have to--"

Steve shoved his hand into Eddie's pants, never breaking their gaze while he wrapped his hand around Eddie's cock. "I've been thinking about sucking your cock for months now," Steve said. "Please believe me when I say I really, really do need to, actually."

Eddie glanced down at the tile below them, wincing at the off-white color. "I'm not letting you suck my dick in this bathroom." When Steve scoffed, he looked up, eyes squinted with displeasure– As if Steve weren't literally rubbing his thumb over the head of Eddie's dick. "Stop being a little brat. You deserve better."

"I deserve your cock in my throat," Steve grumbled. He was a little pleased, in spite of himself. Not many of his previous partners had put much thought into what Steve did or didn't 'deserve'. If Steve offered, it was accepted, and more than half would gladly push him down to his knees where he belonged. It had never upset him, because Steve liked it– being on his knees, being pushed around, it was all exactly where he wanted to be. But there was a little thrill in the idea of Eddie making sure it was good and safe for Steve, too.

Not as much of a thrill as Eddie making him choke on his dick, but still.

"Do I have permission to at least make you come with my hand?" Steve said. Enjoying the teasing, he kept his voice mockingly nonchalant, as if Eddie's dick in his palm was something that happened everyday. One of Eddie's eyebrows arched, a skill that inspired as much lust in Steve as it did blistering jealousy. It should be illegal for one nerd loser to be so fucking sexy while Steve still had trouble walking down the street without causing a minor disaster.

"You can certainly try," Eddie said.

Steve didn't like the amused tone in Eddie's voice, the one that said Eddie doubted very much that Steve could make him come with nothing but a dry hand. He knew it was only playing, a more intimate version of their friendly arguments, but mixed with the recent overprotectiveness it made Steve's hackles raise like an angry cat. He wanted to make Eddie's eyes fucking roll with pleasure, if only to prove to himself that he was still in full control of himself and his... various skills.

Carefully, Steve finally released Eddie's dick from the confines of his boxers, trying not to show how excited he was for the first glimpse of his boyfriend's dick. It was honestly nothing special, if Steve was being honest with himself, average sized and curved enough to make every stroke smooth. Still, the fact that it was his boyfriend's dick, flushed purple and hot in his hand, was enough to make Steve's mouth water. It was the prettiest dick in the world, he decided, and then quickly vowed to never say anything that embarrassing out loud.

Eager to get started, Steve spit into his hand and resumed the slow, long strokes that he'd teased Eddie with before, pausing to play idly with the head now and again.

Eddie shifted his weight, leaning into Steve. "You can go a little faster, you know," he said. Steve could hear the feigned, practiced boredom in his voice, and the slight strain underneath.

Don't bullshit the bullshitter, Steve thought.

It was easy to return the unconcerned energy. All Steve really had to do was prop his free arm on Eddie's shoulder, a casually intimate gesture. It was the kind of thing he'd do with a friend at a party, his hand not even resting on Eddie's body. If he couldn't feel the spit and precum oozing between his fingers, Steve would almost say this was the most obviously platonic they'd been all night.

"You know, I think it's really sweet when you treat me like a virgin," Steve said, in the same voice he'd talk about the weather, or which of them was supposed to pick up Dustin that day. "Unnecessary, but really, really sweet. But you know, I have to wonder if it's maybe a little selfish?"

Eddie didn't even acknowledge Steve's words, his entire attention on the hand on his cock. Steve could feel Eddie's fingers flex where they gripped at his hips, could see Eddie's throat work as he swallowed, but it wasn't enough. He wanted Eddie's attention on him, not the easy friction of Steve's hand. Eddie could get that anywhere.

Fighting the urge to pout and beg for the attention he felt he was owed, Steve leaned in until his chin was almost resting on Eddie's shoulder. Breath disturbing the fine baby hairs behind Eddie's ear, Steve said, "Is that what gets you off, Eddie? Pretending I'm a precious little virgin? That's so sweet, baby." 'Sweet' had turned into something sharp in Steve's mouth, a condescending word full of mocking. The kindest synonym for stupid. "Everyone knows I'm a needy slut, but you need to pretend you're the guy who taught me, not T--"

"Don't say his fucking name," Eddie spit, just vicious enough that Steve didn't press it, though he couldn't tell if the tension was actual anger or the oncoming orgasm.

Switching tactics, Steve sighed. "You played your hand there, babe, telling me to cum loud enough for them to hear me. You want them to know you're up here slutting me out, that you're the one who turns me into a cockslut? And it would be such a shame, wouldn't it, if one of them came up here. If T-- If one of the guys came to check on us and they saw King Steve begging for your cock. But you want it so bad, don't you?"

"Need to know who you belong to," Eddie groaned, and then shifted his weight further into Steve as his hips bucked into the clench of Steve's hand. They were plastered together once again, Steve's forehead resting against Eddie's temple. Contrary to the bitchy tone of his teasing, Steve pressed a kiss to Eddie's cheek, overwhelmed by affection. All he'd ever wanted was to be owned, and here Eddie was, about to blow his load at the thought of publically owning him. Steve had just come, and his thighs were still clenching in anticipation at the idea.He whimpered in Eddie's ear and luxuriated in the pained hiss he got in return.

"I belong to you," Steve assured him, the mask of nonchalance falling away. "They didn't take care of me, did they? Not like I needed. Not like you can. So you gotta claim me, gotta let 'em know they can't ever touch me again."

Eddie didn't reply, his chest heaving as he panted, open-mouthed, in time with Steve's strokes. His cock throbbed in Steve's grip, and Steve grinned.

"That's it, baby," Steve crooned, brushing his lips over the tip of Eddie's ear. "Come all over me. Make sure they know who I belong to."

Watching Eddie come was a form of release Steve hadn't even known he needed. He'd never really bothered himself with the physical manifestation of his partners' pleasure before; The orgasm itself was the goal, the mess that came with it was just a slightly irritating reality of sex. But with Eddie's come dripping down his knuckles and splashing across the hem of his shirt, Steve didn't feel the same irritation. For once, he bought into his own dirty talk. The warmth was a brand, now, and he could feel Eddie's claim sink into his skin.

Steve's cock gave a pathetic, painful twitch in his pants, and he groaned as he remembered the mess he'd made. That, at least, was still mildly disgusting.

"Get up," he said, shoving at Eddie's shoulder. "I want to go home."

Eddie laughed, finally straightening up to look Steve in the eye. He was fucking beautiful like this, Steve thought, his hair frizzy and sweat-matted, his cheeks flushed. "You never heard of an afterglow, Harrington?"

"You can glow all you want when I have clean underwear on," Steve said, but even when Eddie stepped back, Steve made sure to stay close. He thought if he lost the warmth of Eddie's body against his, he might actually lose his mind. "Come on, I wanna cuddle. Take me home."

"We haven't even been here an hour!" Eddie said, still laughing.

"I guess you should have thought about that before you made me come untouched, asshole," Steve said, and then stopped, sighing. "You were right, anyway. I hate these people."

"Alright, alright, let me put my dick back in my pants, you maniac," Eddie said, tucking himself away, grimacing at the oversensitivity.

Steve looked down at himself. Cum stained the edge of his shirt and the jeans below, and his hands were still tacky and wet. Even worse was what couldn't be seen, the mess in his pants that seemed worse every time Steve moved. "Talk about your walk of shame," he mumbled. Patting Eddie's shoulder with the back of his hand, he said out loud, "Scoot back so I can turn the sink on?"

Eddie obliged, stepping as far back as the bathroom walls would let him. Steve hopped down from the counter and turned to wash his hands. He could feel Eddie's eyes on him in the mirror, but didn't bother making eye contact, content to let his boyfriend look his fill. It made Steve feel secure, anyway, like Eddie's gaze was holding him down. Like Eddie's eyes on him were what made him real.

After drying his hands, Steve dabbed ineffectually at the cum stains on his t-shirt with a paper towel. Most of the stickiness faded, from the outside, anyway, but there were still obviously dark spots on the fabric. His jeans were even more obvious, the light wash dark and off-colored in the places Eddie had marked him.

"Well, you said you wanted them to know," Eddie said, laughing, but with none of the light-heartedness he'd had just moments before. He sounded nervous, actually, his voice shaking in a way Steve hadn't heard him sound in a long time.

Steve lowered his hand, grip loosening around the towel. "They were going to know what we were doing in here whether it comes out or not, Eddie," Steve said, slowly. Maybe they would have had a chance of dodging the gossip mongers if Steve hadn't spent half the party clinging to Eddie's side, but none of what they'd done tonight was exactly subtle. Sure, they had plausible deniability, and Steve had enough of a reputation left that people would at least hesitate before they accused him of being a queer. There wouldn't be an angry mob. Whatever hate followed them for this would be much more polite than that, but there was no way tongues wouldn't be wagging about Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington disappearing upstairs at a party.

Eddie's eyes slid away from his. "There's no way anyone is going to buy you hooking up with me," Eddie said, and-- Steve wished he could just chalk it up to insecurity, but Eddie honestly sounded like that was the hopeful outcome, like he was hoping no one would ever know how much Steve loved him. Steve knew it was the cause of years of homophobia and harassment, not because of him, but it was still hard not to feel hurt.

He chose his words carefully. "Not to brag, but people are going to notice if I never look at a girl again," Steve said. He dropped the towel in the trash, feeling ridiculous trying to have a serious conversation still holding a cum-stained piece of paper. "And I'm possessive as hell. People were always going to find out, one day. It might as well be now."

"Are you…" Eddie huffed, his eyes sliding away from Steve. "I'm trying not to do that thing where I assume you're going to be a victim of some terrible evil."

"Thanks," Steve said, his voice dry.

"But it's going to be bad for you," Eddie said, "in a way it wasn't for me. No one ever expected me to be anything else, but you– Your family –"

"Yeah, there's gonna be a lot of shit that sucks, Eddie, but when the alternative is pretending I don't love you for the foreseeable future, I think it's worth it." Steve took Eddie's hand in his. "I want to love you out loud, every fucking second that I possibly can. And if someone has a problem with it, then they can try and stop me, sure. But I don't think there's a goddamn thing they can do to me that Vecna didn't try, first."

Despite himself, Eddie laughed, his face full of that fond exasperation that so often followed Steve around these days. "Well, when you put it like that, I guess there's nothing to worry about."

"Now you're getting it." Steve pressed a kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth, and then pulled back, smiling. "So are you going to get me out of this hellhole, or what?"

"This was your idea!" Eddie protested, even as he unlocked the door and opened it slowly.

It was hard to drop the secrecy completely, all the big talk falling to the wayside when faced with reality. They stepped into the hallway gingerly, their guards sliding back up around them as they slipped back into real life. On the stairs down, their hands parted without thought, the comfort of the grip dissolving in fear. But Steve stayed close, and didn't bother putting a platonic distance between them even when he felt the burning gaze of his old friends settle on his skin.

"Do you want to say goodbye to Bev?" Steve asked, leaning in to speak over the music. That was his excuse, anyway.

Eddie's grin said he knew exactly what Steve was doing, but his words played dumb. "Nah, she said she'd drop by the Hideout before she heads back to school. Let's get out of here, baby."

#steddie #obts

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