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cherienymphe · 11 months

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Southern Charm (Rafe Cameron x Reader x Chase Andrews)

Warnings: NON-CON, stalking, underage drinking, crossover

➥ you don’t have to be familiar with Where The Crawdads Sing to follow along with any characters in this fic. Just know that he’s a 1960s version of Rafe with a domestic violence + attempted rape charge

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: Privileged assholes always want what they can’t have. Or, alternatively, you turn down the wrong guys one too many times.

Chase Andrews was one of the proudest men you ever knew. He was also one of the most determined, so, in truth, you didn’t know why you expected anything less when you turned him down more than three months ago. You hadn’t given it much thought, to be honest. He was a simple guy asking out a simple girl, and the rejection shouldn’t have been any more complicated than that.

You’d forgotten that you were dealing with Chase Andrews.

If you hadn’t been so determined to get home before your mom threw a fit, you might’ve paid more attention to the way his face had fallen. You might’ve noticed the slight tightening of his jaw, the way he pulled his lip between his teeth, or the way he’d completely faltered altogether as if your refusal had been the last thing he’d expected. You might have even noticed the glint that passed through his eyes, signaling less than friendly thoughts as you tossed him a quick apologetic smile.

If you hadn’t been in such a hurry, you just might have noticed the way he stared after you, half in disbelief and half affronted.

You hadn’t though, and so you’d made your way home none the wiser to the dark thoughts brewing behind a familiar face. You’d greeted your mom with a quick hug before hurrying to your room. You plopped your purse down onto your bed without another thought spared towards Chase Andrews. After all, he was a simple guy who’d asked out a simple girl that only resulted in an equally simple rejection.

What had there been to linger on?

You hadn’t even brought it up to Kie, that’s how insignificant it had been to you. You told your best friend everything, and somehow, it really had slipped your mind that pretty rich boy Chase Andrews had asked you out on a date. It was only weeks later when you were forced to think on it some more did you realize that deep down, you’d written the whole thing off as some cruel dare.

It seemed like something right up his alley, pushed into it by equally troublesome friends.

You didn’t grow up along the rougher areas of the island, but that also didn’t mean you’d spent your time growing up around guys like that either. Guys like Chase grew up with everything and anything they could want, unfamiliar with the word ‘no’. You grew up fortunate, that you would always admit, but you hadn’t grown up like people like Chase. You hadn’t been raised to walk through life with the assumption that anything—and anyone—was yours if you wanted it.

So…maybe that was why you hadn’t anticipated any of it.

The sound of your name being called made you slow to a stop, and when you turned, the face matched the voice. Dark, almost black looking, hair and steel blue eyes contrasted against fair skin that looked like it barely saw the sun in spite of how much you always saw him out and about. Before you’d felt nothing at the sight of him, apprehension now gripped you instead.

Chase Andrews was a determined man.

“You heading home?”

It was a silly question.

He knew you were.

“Yeah,” you evenly told him.

He replied before you could give him some halfhearted reason as to why you needed to hurry away from him.

“Well, let me walk you…”

It was tempting, even if just for the sake of placating him. After all, maybe if you gave him a crumb, he’d be satisfied for the time being, but you wondered what kind of effect that deep southern drawl had on other women in town. You saw the way they flocked to him and hung off of his every word. There was something about that face that was disarming, you had to admit, but you didn’t make a habit of hanging around guys like Chase for a reason.

You were just about to refuse him, the umpteenth rejection within months, when it was his turn for his name to be called.

The familiar voice had contrasting reactions from you both, a slight frown between your brows while the dark-haired man sported a teasing grin when he turned around. You took the opportunity to take a step away from him, glad that he was too distracted by the sight of his cousin to notice. Dealing with one spoiled rich boy was one too many, never mind the presence of two.

Rafe Cameron was just as tall, just as pretty, just as rich but far more entitled than his dark-haired counterpart. He was an impulsive short fuse compared to Chase’s icy disposition. Where Rafe got into fights on the beach brought on by a coke fueled rage, Chase got drunk and harassed any unsuspecting less fortunate inhabitant who crossed his path. It had been years ago, but you could still remember the sound of his voice as he threatened to have some kid’s dad fired for simply bumping into him.

Rafe was proud to be an asshole while Chase liked to pretend that he wasn’t.

On their own, they were bad enough, but once together, you shuddered to think of what they could—and had—accomplish.

You only glanced over your shoulder once more as you quietly escaped what could’ve been another awkward encounter. Chase was already grinning at the dirty blond, an excited lilt in his voice as he talked about some party happening this weekend. In your efforts to make sure you were getting away unseen, your own gaze connected with a familiar blue one.

Rafe’s expression was even as he drank you in, nary an emotion flitting across it as he somehow both listened to the other man and kept his attention on you. A soft North Carolina breeze blew by, ruffling the few strands that grazed his forehead, and when his blue eyes lowered, straying from your own gaze and to parts of you you’d rather they didn’t, you finally turned back around.

Rafe Cameron, years ahead of his cousin, had asked you out once in high school. You’d been bolder then, less mature and lacking more than half the patience you carried now. You hadn’t just rejected him, but you’d told him in no uncertain terms that you didn’t like guys like him. You’d long suspected that he never really got over that, and you didn’t need to look over your shoulder again to confirm that he was still looking at you.

You could feel the heat of his gaze pressing down onto your back.

“Just give me five more minutes and then I’ll be ready,” Kie promised you, briefly touching your arm before hurrying into the back of her family’s restaurant.

The place was pretty packed today which made her parents’ decision to let her take off all the more surprising. Sarah Cameron was in the corner somewhere with her boyfriend Topper, the blonde throwing you a friendly smile when you came in. She was a lot closer to Kie than she was to you, and in truth, that was more so your doing than hers.

Rafe just wasn’t someone you wanted to interact with if you could help it, and considering that he and Chase were joined at the hip more like brothers than cousins, the desire to steer clear was doubly so.

You had just pulled out your phone to check your messages when a shadow passed over you. You didn’t pay it much mind, but the feel of their body heat mingling with yours clued you in on the fact that whoever they were, they were too close for comfort. You were both surprised and resigned when you heard a familiar voice.

“Picking up for Cameron.”

You tensed at the sound of that smooth voice, shrinking in on yourself as you continued to look ahead. Rafe knew that you knew he was there, and you could feel his eyes on you as you stared in front of you, waiting for Kie to return. You heard the blond next to you let out a small sigh, and you only glanced at him when he dared to move closer.

“You know,” he slowly and softly began, leaning in just a tad. “…you’re kind of hurting my cousin’s feelings.”

That was the last thing you’d expected to come out of his mouth, and you looked at him with a deep frown. There was a small smirk dancing on Rafe’s lips, the corner of his mouth quirked up just a tad, but there was an earnestness in his eyes that hinted at some truth in his words.

“Is that so,” you murmured, looking away. “I doubt that.”

You heard Rafe chuckle, but it was bitter, dry and lacking humor.

“He really hasn’t been anything but nice to you…and you treat him like garbage.”

Rafe’s voice had lowered some, an edge to it that forced you to look at him again. His expression wasn’t so mirthful, a smile or anything close to it nowhere in sight. Despite the volume in the restaurant, you felt like you and Rafe were the only ones in the place, and you swallowed.

“…and how do I do that? By politely turning him down?”

You kept going before he could intervene.

“How else should I do it? Or…would you be happier if I just didn’t turn him down, at all?”

You watched Rafe’s jaw tick as he ran his eyes over you, an iciness creeping into them that made you shudder. He stared at you just like that for what felt like a long time before finally speaking again.

“What’s your problem, Y/N?” he slowly wondered. “You think you’re too good for him or something?”

Such a thought was a great sin to guys like Rafe.

They had money and looks and influence, and so, that put them at a place where no one was off limits. The mere thought that you might think you were too good for his cousin Chase had his eyes flashing…because it wasn’t just about the dark-haired man. If you thought you were too good for Chase, then you thought you were too good for Rafe, and with just one look into a familiar blue gaze, you could tell that Rafe was transported back to senior year when you told him quite plainly what you thought of him.

“I don’t like guys like Chase,” you evenly told him.

You paid no mind to the way his expression hardened as he looked away. Rafe sniffed, pulling his lip between his teeth before meeting your gaze again, his own challenging.

“…and what is Chase like? What are guys like that…like…?”

Rafe was almost daring you to say it, to insult him and his family, and foolishly, you were glad to.

“Spoiled, entitled…guys who lose their temper when they don’t get their way,” you told him, holding his gaze despite how uncomfortable you felt. “You know.”

You pushed yourself to your feet just as Kie returned. She was in the middle of apologizing for the holdup when she cut herself off, coming up short at the sight of Rafe beside you. You were already walking away and urging her to follow before she could even acknowledge him.

“Was he bothering you?” she sternly asked the second you both made it outside.

“No,” you lied with a sigh. “Just Rafe being…Rafe.”

“Good,” she said with relief. “He’s been hanging around here a lot more, and as long as he isn’t causing trouble, who am I to tell him where he can and can’t go, but if he was bothering you, I’ll get my dad to ban him, I swear.”

A laugh was caught in your throat when her words registered. You frowned a bit as you followed her to her jeep, confusion filling you as you hopped inside.

“He has?”

“Yeah, him and Chase,” she groaned, starting the vehicle. “Neither of them gave that much of a fuck about my parents’ place before…”

You clicked your seatbelt with a frown, looking out of the window.

You told yourself that it was just a coincidence. The thought was laughable because when it came to guys like Chase and Rafe…there were no coincidences. You really hadn’t taken Chase seriously when he’d asked you out all those months ago, and the sentiment had held anytime he tried to approach you after. It was exhausting to keep turning him down, politely at that, and to ignore your increasing discomfort.

Chase had a way of crowding you, making you feel so small and at his mercy. The kindness in those blue eyes of his was never genuine, and you never had been fooled by that smooth baritone of his. He always had a look on his face like he was in on some joke you’d just never get, and to make it worse, he made you feel like you were the butt of it.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what Chase wanted with a girl like you, anyway.

You weren’t the partying type, so you’d definitely be no fun for him, and you’d never been eager to stroke his ego and tell him that he was even prettier than he believed. You came from money, sure, but not the kind that would make his mom satisfied. The woman had been convinced that some poor harlot was going to trap her son and swindle him for everything he had since he was a kid.

You really didn’t get what he wanted with you.

Both him and Rafe, to be honest.

Both were about as deep as a kiddie pool, but Rafe had always had a type, and you certainly weren’t it. You saw the kind of girls he hit on at parties, the kind of girls he walked around with, the kind of girls he slipped some free coke to. Rafe was nothing if not consistent in that regard, which made that moment in high school all the more confusing.

What made it even more confusing was that Rafe was obviously still hung up on it years later.

Unlike Chase, however, one hit to his ego was one too many.

“Chase…what are you doing here?”

It was hours later when you found yourself standing on your steps. No one had been more surprised than you when your mom announced that Chase was here to see you. Your dad’s pinched face was burned into your memory as your mom forced him to mind his business.

The dark-haired man before you let out a chuckle, but it sounded…off. It didn’t sound like a laugh born from amusement, but one bred from confusion instead.

“I’m wondering the same thing,” he told you, although his smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You must have rejected me about…seven times by now.”

He laughed to himself again, his white button down pulling as he leaned against the porch post.

“I guess I just want to know why.”

His expression was polite, but his eyes told a different story, and you didn’t need to study the blue of them to know that he’d talked to Rafe. You forced yourself to take a deep breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you briefly glanced away. You could feel his unwavering gaze, both studying you just for the hell of it and because he wanted to know what you were thinking.

“I’m sure Rafe told you why,” was your remark.

When you looked at the dark-haired man, his own jaw had tensed some, face taut, and he nodded with a glance towards his feet.

“Look…I’m not the kind of guy you think I am,” he finally said, perfect teeth winking at you as he grinned, like the thought was laughable to him. “I just…”

He exhaled.

“We’ve both grown up here, and went to school together, and I don’t see the point in pretending like I don’t notice you,” he drawled. “I like you…and I’d like to take you out.”

Truthfully, you couldn’t tell how genuine Chase was, but your familiarity with him had your response on the tip of your tongue before he could even finish.

“Guys like you don’t like girls like me, Chase,” you’d started, turning to go back inside. “At least not for anything more than one fun night.”

When your eyes met his from the other side of the screen, they didn’t look so warm, now. The blue of them seemed darker, although you preferred to write that off to a trick of the light. He looked like he wanted to say more, but you continued just as he opened those pink lips of his.

“Go home, Chase.”

You didn’t wait to hear any kind of response.

You really hadn’t anticipated any of it.

Chasing you down on the sidewalk or approaching you in the street was one thing, but Chase showing up on your doorstep one evening had spooked you, and it was why you’d had no qualms about being straight with him and telling him to just go home. His determination to have you, despite your visible discomfort at the thought, had made it hard to sleep that night, but you’d hoped that your point had gotten across.

…and while Chase hadn’t made a move on you again, you still found no relief.

He and Rafe hung out at The Wreck more often than they ever had, and while they kept their distance, the feel of an oppressive gaze was hard to ignore. You told yourself that you just imagined the sound of a familiar truck driving by your house in the dead of night. It was a small town, and just like before, you’d run into a familiar face often. That was nothing new…

Chase Andrews wasn’t trying to wear you down for a date anymore, but you still felt no peace.

“Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Kie wondered one day, voice heavy with concern. “…and here I thought that they’d developed a taste for my mom’s cooking.”

“I thought he was joking at first,” you confessed. “…and then he just kept asking…”

You felt almost embarrassed to admit how wrong you’d been. After all, you were way too old for childish dares, and when Chase Andrews wanted something, he got it. He was a lot like Rafe in that way, something you’d always known, and yet…you hadn’t anticipated any of it.

From either of them.

“Just stay over at my place,” Sarah Cameron had offered one night.

It was a party that you’d been the one to drag Kie to, but your inebriation was something that took both of you by surprise. You’d felt too bad to stay and didn’t want to cut Kie’s night short too. The blonde girl had been concerned when she convinced you to let her drive you back to her place.

“I know how your mom can be sometimes.”

Almost everyone did, and you’d thanked her.

You’d been grateful.

Sarah residing in the same house as Rafe hadn’t been a concern of yours. Nor the fact that he might not be alone. You’d only been concerned with drinking lots of water and laying down to keep your head from spinning. When you woke up in the middle of the night, you were a lot more sober, and the trek to the bathroom wasn’t one filled with stumbling.

Your shower made you a lot more alert.

…and you were wide awake when you almost bumped into Rafe Cameron. He didn’t look as shocked to see you in his house like you’d expect, only mildly surprised. You did flinch at the sight of him, and you didn’t miss the way his blue eyes ran over the length of you, lingering on your legs and the shirt that kissed your knees.

He didn’t say anything like you expected, and you only forced out a small apology before hurrying back to the guest room.

It had never occurred to you to lock it.

Rafe was annoying and insufferable and an asshole. The oldest Cameron was a lot of things, but there were even some things you’d put past him. So, waking up in the early morning before day by the sound of the guest room door opening was something you hadn’t predicted. The oldest Cameron chewing you out, with blown pupils you might add, was something you hadn’t predicted.

“Do you know how much shit I could’ve put you through?”

You glared at him, but inside, you were shaking. The blond had taken it upon himself to air out his grievances with you, and you were wholly aware of just how unstable he was when he had any drug in him.

“You walk around this island like you’re too good for me,” he murmured, reaching up to touch his chest. “Like I’m just the scum you find on the bottom of your shoe…and instead of being grateful I didn’t make your life a living hell…”

He threw his arms out.

“You turn your nose up at me…like you’re so much better than me.”

You swallowed, torn between wanting to placate him and get him out or treating him like the asshole he was.

“Rafe, you’re high and…”

“…and what?” he leaned in, tilting his head at you. “What?”

Your breathing was uneven, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, taking a step back from him. The blond followed, and you worriedly looked towards the door.

“You think Sarah’s gonna save you? You think I care if she sees what I’m going to do to you?”

His words had you frowning, and your gaze was stricken when you looked at him again.

“That’s not funny, Rafe,” you breathed.

He chuckled to himself, running his hand through already unruly hair.

“…and what makes you think I’m joking…?”

The silence between you was loud, thick, and you furiously blinked.

“You walk around this damn island like I can’t have you…when truth is, I was just being nice,” he sneered. “…because it’s actually so easy for me to do this.”

His hand completely enveloped your chin, fingers harshly pressing into your jaw as he pushed you back. The action made you stumble, and your heart skipped a beat when you landed on the bed behind you. Rafe chuckled to himself at the sight, like he genuinely found it funny, and any possibility that he was being cruel in his humor was gone when he grabbed the ankles that kicked out at him.

“Rafe, stop,” you gasped, pushing at his chest and trying to back away.

He did pause in his movements, but he kept hold of you, head tilted to the side as he studied you.

“…and why would I do that…? I don’t want to,” he slowly told you.

Movement behind him caught your eye, and relief filled you at the sight of a familiar face. It was strange that in all these months, you never thought your eyes would land on Chase Andrews in relief. Rafe, clearly having noticed your line of sight, glanced over his shoulder.

“What?” he distractedly wondered, looking at you again. “You think he’s going to save you?”

His tone was cold, and his words had your relief quickly dying out. Rafe chuckled at the sight of your falling face, heart sinking as the worst finally occurred to you.

“You think he’s not going to watch and get off on the fact that the girl he’s wanted for months is getting what she deserves?”

Rafe’s grip was firm as he pulled at your shirt, the fabric tearing in the otherwise quiet room. You fought against his hands through teary eyes, but it was like they meant nothing at all to Rafe.

“You don’t think he’s just waiting for his turn?”

Your hand connected with Rafe’s face then, but it didn’t deter him.

In that moment, it seemed like all of Rafe’s pent-up anger towards you was finally coming out. His teeth grazed your skin as he held you down, his other hand digging into your hip. Rafe seemed to take delight in your fight, your fear, and when you turned your head, your eyes connected with a blue pair that was much darker than the ones before you.

Chase didn’t look gleeful at the sight of Rafe forcing himself on you. He just looked…satisfied, and you realized then that the blond was right. Chase was scorned, he felt slighted, and you knew that he really did believe that you deserved this.

When Rafe pushed himself into you, your head pressed into the bed as you gasped in shock. His dirty blond strands were kissing your forehead as he leaned over you, pushing his cock into you almost lovingly. One hand was so tight on your wrist that it was a wonder it didn’t break, and despite how much you fought it, how much you didn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction, you weren’t able to hold in a sob.

“What’s that my mama used to always say…” Chase wondered, finally speaking. “Stop crying before I give you something to cry about?”

He was moving towards you both, and through a tearful gaze, your pleading eyes connected with his own emotionless ones. He ran them over you, taking in your naked frame and the abuse that Rafe subjected it to. In truth, Chase didn’t even look like he was enjoying himself, his hands in his pockets as he looked down his nose at the scene.

“Chase,” you tearfully begged him, trying to push Rafe off with your free hand.

“No,” he drawled, moving closer. “You don’t like guys like me, remember? So, don’t go begging for my help, now.”

When he leaned over from behind you, one hand taking yours before he did the same with the other, more tears fell. His grip was tight on your arms as he held you in place for Rafe, the blond using the opportunity to run his hands over you. His mouth left open mouth kisses to your neck and chess, and you blinked for half a second before Chase’s lips met yours.

The kiss was oddly gentle, so out of place, and a sob caught in your chest.

“That was all I ever wanted,” he murmured. “It didn’t have to be like this.”

Rafe’s cock stretched you out in a way that had you whimpering. From pain or something else, you didn’t know the answer, and you were too embarrassed to linger on it. When he lightly bit your chest, you arched into his mouth, and his hips curved into yours.

“I thought you were too good for me, Y/N,” Rafe mocked into your skin. “The way you’re gripping me says differently.”

You squeezed your eyes shut at that, and Chase chuckled.

His own teeth found your neck, and you tried to move your hands again only to hiss when he tightened his grip. The room was mostly quiet outside of your heavy breathing and the occasional moan that would escape against your will. Chase had your arms and Rafe had your legs, holding your thighs apart for him to drive himself into you without abandon.

When Chase did finally let you go, you felt no relief.

You could hear him getting undressed, and when Rafe finally came inside of you, emptying his cock and forcing you to milk him, he looked up at the other man with a chuckle. You were free for all of six seconds before Chase grabbed you and roughly threw you onto your stomach. His hand at the root of your hair forced your head down against the mattress, and if you’d doubted his motives before, they were all too clear when he finally spoke again.

“I was polite…wasn’t I?”

His lips were at your ear, but a whisper as he seemed to want something from you other than sex tonight.

“I asked you out nicely, made sure you got home safe…didn’t I?”

You reached back, pressing your nails into his skin as your tears soaked the sheets.

“Didn’t I?” he wondered again when you didn’t answer.

“Yes,” you sobbed.

You heard him take a deep breath, and his free hand curved into your hip. When he pulled you back onto his cock, you let out a whine, eyes squeezing shut at the feel of him fitting snuggly inside of you.

“…and this is how you treat me?” he wondered out loud, hips snapping against yours.

His thrusts weren’t as gentle as Rafe’s, and you gasped with each one. Rafe’s anger at your rejection was a lot calmer. It was something that had been brewing and festering for years. He’d had time to come to terms with it and just live with it, you supposed. Chase, on the other hand…

The dark-haired man had been after you for months, putting his pride and ego aside to make his intentions clear over and over again. His anger was new…fresh, and he hadn’t quite had the time to process it like Rafe had. All Chase wanted to do was take out this new anger on you.

…and that he did.

Your nails clawed at the sheets as he pushed into you, the sound of his cock thrusting into you so embarrassingly loud in the room. His grip was tight in your hair, so bad that you swore you felt a few strands pop. He was talking to you—or Rafe—but you couldn’t make it out. You were too focused on the pain in your scalp and the fire deep in the pit of your stomach.

“You think you’re better than me? Hmm?” he spat, the hand on your hip pushing your lower half down onto the bed. “You think you can just treat me like any of these second-rate assholes?”

It was clear that he wanted an answer.

“Huh?”

“No,” you sobbed, trying to push back against him to no avail.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better? You don’t sound sorry worth a damn,” he harshly whispered, the bed shaking from the force of his thrusts.

“She’s not,” you heard Rafe add, and you trembled.

“I am,” you sobbed, finally cracking. “I’m sorry.”

You sniffed, trying in vain to get Chase to loosen his hold.

“I’m sorry,” you tearfully told them again, toes curling at the feel of his cock plunging into you and sliding against your walls.

“Nah,” you heard Chase drawl, leaning down to press his face into your hair. “You’re not sorry…but I can promise you this.”

He forced you to turn your head, and his soft lips gently brushed the corner of yours.

“You will be.”

tags: @aniquas @softcoreparadise

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x kook!reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron #chase andrews #chase andrews x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #where the crawdads sing #crossover

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temptingfatetakingnames · 7 months

Text

Dancing in the Dark Part 2

Part 1

Time was moving slowly and Eddie wanted to smash his head on the table. Women kept coming over to talk to Steve. They brought him drinks (that he politely refused), they eyed him up and down, they complimented him, they touched him. On the shoulder, shyly on his knees, they leaned into his space and smiled brightly at him. They all asked him to sing again. Please, please sing again. You were amazing, they said with their breathy, feminine voices. Eddie wanted to scratch their pretty smiles off their stupid pretty faces. Steve shook them all off with a smile and Eddie was honestly a little surprised that he wasn’t soaking up the attention more.

Nancy and Johnathan were on stage singing a Sonny and Cher duet that probably would have sounded a lot better a few beers ago. It was late though, and most of the crowd was drunk and having a good time, singing along with them. The latest woman to strike out with Steve slinked away after leaving a napkin with her phone number on it.

“I’m gunna get some air,” Steve said, getting up from the table. Eddie watched him make his way through the crowd until he couldn’t see him anymore. When he turned back around, he saw Robin staring at him, her eyes wide and slightly unfocused.

She jerked her head in the direction Steve went. “You should go after him.”

“Should I?” Eddie asked, bewildered.

“Yeah, go see if he’s okay,” she said slurring her words a little.

“Shouldn’t you go see if he’s okay? Miss Best Friend?”

Robin pursed her lips and shook her head.

“Miss Best Friend says you need to go,” she said and then gave him the most uncoordinated wink Eddie had ever seen his life. He looked through the crowd towards the door that Steve had disappeared out of. He knocked his knuckles on the table and stood. Robin gave him two thumbs up and a huge grin that he couldn’t help but snort at.

He made his way through the room, gently nudging people out of his way. When he got to the door he took a deep breath, pushed it open and stepped outside. Steve was leaning up against the side of the bar with a cigarette hanging loosely in his fingers. He was looking up at the sky, deep in thought, a small frown hovering on his lips. He looked beautiful and sad and Eddie felt his heart clench painfully in his chest.

How had he missed it?

How fucking sad he looked sometimes?

“Hey man,” Eddie said as he walked over.

Steve looked at him and Eddie watched in real time as a mask came down over his face. He tilted his head to the side and a little half smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

It almost reached his eyes.

Almost.

If Eddie wasn’t looking closer now, he would have been fooled by it. It was well practiced, automatic, near perfect…and Eddie’s heart clenched again.

“Munson,” Steve said with a warm affectionate voice that Eddie didn’t feel he deserved. He held out his cigarette between two fingers and Eddie took it.

They traded it back and forth, quietly smoking.

“You should sing more often, you’re not as terrible as I was expecting you to be.”

“High praise coming from you,” Steve said and nudged Eddie’s shoulder playfully.

“Why don’t you?”

Steve shrugged and took another drag of the cigarette before answering. “I used to… with my mom. She loves Springsteen.”

It both was and wasn’t an answer. No parents. Big house. Eddie wondered when they stopped singing together. The silence stretched between them. Eddie fiddled with his rings, turning them around and around his fingers. He didn’t know how to talk about things like this – the big things. How do you ask your friend why he doesn’t sing with his mother anymore? How do you ask him why he sang Springsteen tonight if it hurt him?

“I was wondering what Robin was going to say earlier – what else you’ve been up to?” Eddie asked, choosing an easier question.

“Oh.” Steve seemed surprised. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Well, I figured out that I really want to work with kids. For my job? But I really screwed myself over with my grades so I’ve been talking to Hop about what I can do. He’s going to write me a reference letter and see if he can help get me into college next year. In the meantime, I’ve been volunteering at the public school. Basically, a camp counselor for an after-school program. I – I really like it. The kids are great. I’ve been teaching them basketball and swimming. There’s this one girl, Ashley – she’s so shy, but so sweet! Took me weeks just to get a smile out of her, but a couple days ago she hugged me and gave me cookies that she made with her mom –” Steve cut himself off before muttering, “sorry, I’m rambling…”

Another adorable blush started creeping over his cheekbones. Eddie couldn’t think of a time that Steve had talked so much at once. He usually just listened when they all got together, chiming in every now and then with a comment but never talking a whole lot. But then he tried to think about the last time he or the kids had asked him a question about what he was doing or thinking and – he couldn’t.

“It sounds great, man!” Eddie said around the lump in his throat. “Tell me more.”

Steve smiled. A real one this time, small and shy.

“Yeah?” he asked.

Eddie nodded… and Steve talked.

He had been volunteering since the spring. It was mostly younger kids whose parents weren’t home when school got out. Steve said that the program was pretty bare-bones and that the other counselors just let the kids do whatever they wanted in the school playground or gym but didn’t really plan any activities. Steve changed that by introducing sports and trips to the pool and lake as the weather warmed up.

The kids genuinely seemed to like him which surprised him but didn’t surprise Eddie at all. He told him more about Ashley. Her mom was on her own; her husband had passed away a few years ago. Steve didn’t say she was his favourite but Eddie could tell that she was. Something about how shy she was at the start and how she was slowly opening up to him really affected him. As he spoke, his smile got wider and he talked with his hands more and Eddie was captivated. He nodded along and let Steve talk for as long as he wanted, only asking the occasional follow-up question.

“I’m going to see if there’s a program I can volunteer with in the summer, too.”

“I’m sure there is,” Eddie said with a smile.

Steve ducked his head to hide his face. After a moment, he looked up through his hair and said, “thanks.”

“Thanks for what?”

“For asking,” Steve said. “For listening.”

“I’m sorry for not asking sooner.”

“How could you ask about something you didn’t know about?”

“I should have asked about you,” Eddie said quietly.

For a moment the mask slipped off Steve’s face and Eddie saw the same dark emotion in his eyes that he had seen earlier. But just as quickly it was gone – hidden behind his confident self-assured attitude and a smirk on his lips. Eddie was starting to see it for the armor it was.

“I’m not that interesting,” Steve said and leaned back against the wall of the bar, lifting his face up to the night sky. The words were regurgitated – someone had said them to him enough times that he had internalized them, consumed them until he thought they came from his own mind. Eddie had a lot of experience with that. There was a lot that they had in common, Eddie was realizing.

“I don’t want this to sound condescending or weird… or whatever, but –” Eddie paused and cleared his throat before continuing, “can I give you a hug?”

Steve looked over at him with surprise and opened his mouth, probably to say ‘no’ or ‘what the hell, Munson?’ but Eddie turned to him, arms spread wide and he closed it. The moment stretched and Eddie didn’t think he was going to hug him. He was just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face – probably trying to determine Eddie’s sincerity so he held his eyes, stepped a little closer and opened his arms wider.

Hug me, Big Boy.

Steve closed the distance between them slowly, like he thought Eddie might change his mind if he moved too quickly. He smiled at him gently and Steve sagged forward, resting his head on his shoulder. He let out a sigh when Eddie brought his arms up and held him tightly. After a moment, Steve gripped him back just as hard.

Now that the hug was initiated, Eddie had no idea what to do. Rub his back? Try to get him to talk? He had never been good with his own feelings, let alone someone else’s. But Steve was his friend… and he was hurting.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked as gently as he could.

Steve immediately tensed up but didn’t pull away. Eddie rubbed small circles into his back and looked at the sky. The stars shone brilliantly in the night; he could see why Steve kept looking up at them. They held on to each other silently. Steve was still tense in his arms, despite the circles, and Eddie was convinced that he wasn’t going to answer. Which was fine, maybe a quiet hug was what he needed. The circles didn’t seem to be helping so he stopped. He brought one of his hands up to Steve’s neck and slipped his fingers into the hair at his nape. It was soft. Steve shuddered at the motion and went limp in his arms.

“No,” he whispered.

“No,” he forced out and Eddie could tell from his voice that he was fighting back tears.

“No,” he sobbed and clutched at Eddie with desperation. His body shaking as the tears overwhelmed him.

Eddie made soft shushing noises and rocked them gently, his fingers still tangled in his hair. Tears pricked at his own eyes in the face of Steve’s turmoil. He wished they were somewhere else; somewhere warm and quiet where he could bundle Steve up and keep the world from hurting him… keep the world from hurting him more.

He felt small in his arms… fragile. Which was crazy because Steve was a protector. He had saved the world. He had saved Eddie – had dragged him out of hell despite his own injuries. But who protected him? Who asked him how he was doing? What he was feeling? Eddie was desperate to know why he sang Dancing in the Dark. When Robin forced him up on stage with whatever secret he didn’t want the rest of them to know he could have done any song he wanted. He chose Dancing in the Dark – and then sang the most heartbreaking version Edde had ever heard. Steve had put everything he was feeling into it; had practically screamed at them to see him.

“Talk to me, Steve,” he prodded softly. “Tell me anything, everything. I want to hear it. Talk to me, please.”

Sniffles and shaky breaths, but strong arms still clutched Eddie tightly.

“I – I don’t sleep…” Steve said so quietly Eddie had to strain to hear the words. “Everyone keeps saying it’s over but it doesn’t feel over. It’s been over before…and even when I do manage it, I have these awful dreams. Robin stays over when she can, and it helps… but she’s leaving and I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. And the kids are getting older and they don’t need me anymore. And I finally have a goal, something I want to do but what if I fucked myself over in high school and I end up stuck at Family Video forever? I don’t know what I’m doing Eddie, and I can’t sleep.”

Eddie was once again struck by how much they had in common. Nightmares and the fear that the Upside Down could come back at any moment? Check. Unfulfilled dreams and the fear of falling into an average boring life? Check. He didn’t know how to tell Steve that he understood, that he saw him. There was a song that came to mind, one of his favourites by Dio that always helped him when he felt lost and alone. Talking about feelings was hard, but singing? Eddie could do that. He could do that for Steve.

He started singing Rainbow in the Dark quietly, giving Steve something to lean into, to listen for. He softened it, like Steve had with Dancing in the Dark, turning it into a companion piece – a continuation, a parallel.

When there's lightning You know it always brings me down 'Cause it's free and I see that it's me Who's lost and never found

I cry out for magic I feel it dancing in the light It was cold, lost my hold To the shadows of the night

No sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark A rainbow in the dark

Do your demons, do they ever let you go? When you try to do they hide deep inside? Is it someone that you know?

There's no sign of the morning coming You've been left on your own Like a rainbow in the dark Just a rainbow in the dark

Steve’s tears had stopped as Eddie sang. They were holding each other lighter now, softly standing close. Steve had leaned back so he could see Eddie’s face as he sang.

“It is over, Steve… truly over. We won and Vecna is dead. I know that won’t stop the nightmares – it hasn’t for me. Not yet. But it will eventually, when it keeps being over. I’ll come over when Robin is gone. We can help each other sleep, yeah? And the kids are always going to need you – maybe not in the ‘demon slaying, use my body as a shield’ way – but in the older brother who loves them way. I think you’re interesting, Steve. I think…” Eddie paused, trying to get his thoughts together. “I think you’re one of the most interesting people I’ve ever met. I want to know everything about you. I want to know why your mother stopped singing with you and why your house is always empty. I want to know why you sang Springsteen tonight. I want to know why you got so good at hiding what you’re really thinking and feeling. I want to know your favourite colour and your favourite food. I want to know about your dreams and your nightmares…I want to know it all.”

“Why?” Steve whispered.

He was close enough that Eddie could see the green flecks in his eyes. His face was blotchy and red from crying and his hair was a mess from Eddie’s fingers, and he had never looked more beautiful. They still had their arms around each other but they weren’t hugging anymore – it was more a loose embrace, and Eddie was viscerally aware of the difference. Steve wasn’t pulling away though, was holding his eyes like they held the secrets to the universe. It made him feel brave.

“Because I like you and I want to know you, Steve Harrington.”

Steve smiled brightly, warming Eddie with the glow. He looked down at the hand that Eddie had on his waist and grabbed it. And just like that Steve was holding his hand, and smiling at him and Eddie didn’t know what to do with the feelings fluttering in his chest. He thought he might be having a heart attack.

“I like you too, Eddie Munson.”

He was definitely having a heart attack. Eddie squeezed his hand and then moved forward a bit so he could rest his forehead on Steve’s. He huffed out a small laugh, unable to comprehend how they had got here.

“Here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to get our friends and take them home, then I’m going to come over and we’re going to sleep and in the morning we’ll talk more. Sound good, sweetheart?” The term of endearment popped out of his mouth and Eddie blushed furiously.

But Steve smiled and said, “Sounds good, Eddie.”

Final Part

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I really wasn't planning on writing a part two of this ficlet so I didn't have a plan when I started. I hope you like it as much as the first part, it turned out much sadder than I thought it was going to. It's funny to me that even though Steve sang Dancing and Eddie sang Rainbow I think the songs work better the other way? Steve is the Rainbow and Eddie is Dancing - I guess that's why they sang them to each other <3

@newtstabber @warlordess @tillystealeaves @imfinereallyy @heartsong18 @saltyseagoat83 @aceofwands @djohawke @th30ra3k3n @lazy-duck @surreal-honeypot @awkwardgravity1 @yoriposts @alycatavatar @tearsonthemoon222 @roastingdragon @mightbeasleep @helpimstuckposting @goblintendencies

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #Steve Harrington can sing #Dancing in the dark #Open mic night #steve x eddie

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