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sailing-through-hawkins · 4 days

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go for it

steddie | rating: t | cw: none | wc: 4,6k | tags: eddie and steve have a crush, they finally do something about it, the hellfire club is there whoops, first kiss, getting together

for my stficbingo: “This is a dictatorship and I’m in charge!”

click here to read on ao3

***

“You drag yourselves out of the tunnels and find what seems to be a friendly tavern in the woods,” Eddie narrates in a low voice, his eyes sweeping over everyone sitting at the Harrington dining table. They’re all at the edge of their seats, collectively holding their breath, looking suitably daunted yet excited as they brace themselves for some other twist in the story. “The innkeeper welcomes you with warm food and offers you a place to stay. She assures you that you’re safe.”

He pauses for dramatic effect. Watches as Henderson bites his knuckles, Wheeler squeezes his eyes shut, Jeff covers his face with his hands-

“Tonight you get to rest,” he finishes with a flourish of his hand and the party sighs in relief.

“Thank God!” Gareth says, slumping back on his chair and wiping his brow where beads of sweat started gathering during the final moments of the campaign. “I thought we wouldn’t make it.”

“Holy shit, me too,” Sinclair agrees, shaking his head in disbelief. He’d been one bad die roll away from dying by the time they finally defeated the goblins that attacked them out of nowhere. “That was brutal!”

“It was fucking awesome!” Henderson says with a squeaky laugh and everyone around the table heartily agrees.

Eddie grins widely, resting his chin on one hand and doing a flourish with the other one in lieu of a bow. “Glad it pleased you, Master Nog.”

The kid flashes him a toothy smile and then he and the rest of the party start discussing tonight’s campaign- the best moments, the ones where they thought they would all die, their predictions for what will happen next week.

They’re so caught up in their conversation that they don’t notice when Eddie slips away from the table.

The Harrington house is easy to get lost in, bigger than any house Eddie has ever been to. Even after weeks of being friends with Steve and coming over for movie nights and pool parties, Eddie isn’t sure he’s seen all of it. He knows there’s a third garage somewhere and he’s only been to one of the three guest bedrooms and that was back on the first night he slept over.

(Since then, he and Steve realized that they sleep better when they have company and Eddie never saw the inside of that or any of the other guest rooms again, sharing Steve’s bed with him whenever he spends the night instead.)

Eddie has been to Harrington kitchen plenty of times though, so he makes his way there easily.

As he gets further away from his friends and their noise, Eddie’s ears pick up on the music coming from the Harrington kitchen, which further guides him in the right direction. He belatedly recognizes the song as part of the mixtape he made for Steve a couple of days ago in an attempt to improve his music taste. When he gave it to him, Steve eyed it warily (“It’s real music, Stevie, not a rabid animal, it won’t bite you!”) before shoving it into his car’s glove compartment. He didn’t bring it up since then and Eddie assumed he forgot about it. Knowing that Steve didn’t forget and he’s actually listening to it now fills Eddie’s stomach with butterflies.

Those butterflies flutter pathetically when he finally reaches the kitchen and finds Steve doing the dishes.

He’s standing in front of the sink, his hips moving with the music (not heavy metal but some soft rock that Eddie thought might be more Steve’s style while still being cool) and there’s a flowery apron tied around his waist which matches the rubber gloves he’s wearing. Both were a gag gift from the kids, Steve told Eddie the first time he saw him wearing them, one that actually turned out to be quite useful and now he wears them often.

For a moment, Eddie lingers at the kitchen doorway, giving himself a few seconds to stare at Steve, filing away how he looks for later when he’s daydreaming embarrassingly domestic fantasies of a life with Steve. Then he raps his knuckles twice on the door frame to get his attention.

(Eddie knows better than to sneak up on him now. The one time he did Steve had him pinned against a wall before Eddie could even realize what was happening. He thought it was hot more than anything, but Steve had been mortified. He spent the rest of the night apologizing and acting like a kicked puppy around him. He didn’t relax until Eddie reminded him that the first time they met, Eddie did the same thing, only he also held a broken bottle to Steve’s throat. So now they were more than even.)

Steve’s head whips around at the sound and his face lights up when he sees Eddie leaning against the door frame.

“Hey!” Steve says, grinning like he’s delighted to see Eddie. Like he missed him, like he didn’t see him less than forty minutes ago when they all took a break to have dinner. “You finished early tonight.”

Glancing at the clock on top of the fridge, Eddie realizes that Steve is right. “I figured they had enough for one night,” Eddie says, stepping into the kitchen and joining Steve by the sink. “Usually the brats would throw a fit, but I think they were actually glad this time.”

“That bad?” Steve asks with a snort.

“Wheeler rolled four nat ones in a row, Steve, four!” Eddie says, dancing in and out of Steve’s space until Steve hip-checks him out of the way with a chuckle.

“Four, huh?”

“Mhm, the odds weren’t in their favor tonight.”

“Well, it was nice of you to let them off the hook for once, Mr. Dungeon Master,” Steve says, crinkly eyes meeting Eddie’s momentarily before looking down at the sink and picking up another plate.

“I’m always nice, Stevie,” Eddie says, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest.

Steve gives him a bitchy face. “Dude, I’m pretty sure I heard you threaten to chop off Dougie’s hand.”

“That was the goblin, not me!” Eddie protests, wagging his finger in front of Steve’s face. “Who Jeff killed shortly after, so who’s the one that isn’t nice here?”

“Right,” Steve deadpans. He takes off the rubber gloves after rinsing the last plate and picks up a dish towel to start drying. “You can always get your revenge next week I guess.”

“Oh I will, Stevie. I will,” he says, grinning manically. Oh the things he has planned. Eddie hops on top of the counter, right next to where Steve stands as he dries plates and glasses and everything else he used to make the most delicious lasagna for the party. His feet dangle from the counter and he lightly nudges Steve with one. “Hey, thanks for letting us play here. And for dinner.”

“You know you don’t have to thank me every time, right Eds?” Steve says with an exaggerated sigh, but his annoyance is downplayed by his playful smile. The lopsided one that makes Eddie want to kiss him stupid.

After Spring Break, Principal Higgins was quick to shut down Hellfire once and for all, leaving the party with no place to hold their campaigns. Eddie wasn’t surprised but like everyone else, he was pretty fucking bummed about it. No one in their party had enough space at their house to host their campaigns, and the only two that did, Wheeler and Sinclair, failed to convince their parents to let them use their basement for their alleged satanic cult gatherings.

But just when they thought their club was done for, Steve swooped in like the knight in shining armor that he is and offered up his house, which is why for the last couple of weeks they’ve been gathering at the Harrington residence where Steve not only hosts their campaigns and puts up with the noise and the mess they leave behind, but he also cooks or buys them dinner every week and makes sure to stock up his fridge with each of their favorite drinks, even indulging in Gareth’s weird obsession with Bubble Up soda because he is unreal and the nicest fucking guy Eddie knows.

So Eddie can’t not thank him every time. Contrary to what people might believe, he has manners. He also likes the pretty pink flush that covers Steve’s cheeks whenever he does it.

“Hm, I think I do,” he says, nudging Steve’s leg again. “Hellfire would be over if it wasn’t for you, sweetheart.”

“And what a tragedy that would be,” Steve jokes but aha! There it is- that pretty pink blush.

“Hey! I know for a fact that you don’t hate it as much as you pretend to,” Eddie says, shaking his finger in a reproachful manner. “You sat through the whole session last time and didn’t even yawn once!”

Last week, Dustin begged and pleaded so that Steve would sit and watch their campaign instead of retreating to the kitchen or his bedroom. Steve held his ground admirably until Eddie joined in on Dustin’s pleas, batting his eyelashes and pouting exaggeratedly until he caved, sighing in defeat and sitting down next to Eddie. He didn’t expect Steve to make it through the whole thing, but he did and while he did look a little confused at times and complained that there was way too much math involved, he also seemed to actually enjoy himself.

Steve shifts from one foot to the other and bites his lip. “Yeah, I guess, but that’s because I was watching you the whole time,” he shyly says.

Eddie blinks. “Me?” He remembers Steve’s eyes on him while he led the campaign, but he didn’t think much of it then. But now Steve’s shy admission that he enjoyed himself because he was watching Eddie makes his heart stutter in his chest.

Flushing deeper, Steve keeps his eyes on the glass that he’s drying, not meeting Eddie’s gaze as he says, “Yeah, you, uh. You’re very good at doing those voices and you know, drawing people into your stories. It’s, um, fascinating.”

Fascinating. No one’s ever used that word to describe Eddie before. He can’t help the way his breath catches when Steve Harrington of all people calls him that.

“Oh. Well, thanks,” he stammers out, feeling his own cheeks match Steve’s flush. “And here I thought you were going to say I’m just pretty to look at,” he adds with a slightly shaky laugh.

And that’s what he expects Steve to do- laugh it off. Instead, he finally meets Eddie’s eyes and says, “Well, that too.”

Eddie’s jaw drops. Holy shit.

Steve does laugh then but not because it was a joke. He laughs at Eddie’s reaction which consists of him gaping like a fish because Steve Harrington just called him fascinating and pretty.

And it’s not that Steve hasn’t given him compliments before or hasn’t flirted with him before. He plays along most of the time- sometimes with a playful smirk and sometimes with that baffled puppy look that Eddie saw for the first time after calling him “big boy”.

The thing is he’s never flirted like this- shyly, without a hint of a joke. And it’s-

Well, it’s a lot.

But if Eddie learned anything after Spring Break is to roll with whatever the universe throws at him, which in this case isn’t an army of hell bats or an apocalypse, but Steve Harrington finally, maybe, possibly making a move. Something that Eddie has been waiting for after weeks of the two of them dancing around each other.

He couldn’t see it at first, or rather he refused to, afraid to get his hopes up only for his heart to break when he turned out to be wrong. But there are things that not even his cynical eyes can ignore. The way Steve gravitates towards Eddie in any group setting or the way Eddie catches him staring when he thinks he isn’t looking like last week when they went swimming at the quarry and Eddie took off his shirt or like two weeks ago when Eddie tied his hair up to keep it off his face while he played his guitar. Or the way Steve’s eyes seem to dart to Eddie’s lips constantly when he talks and the way he can’t go more than a day without seeing him before he’s knocking on Eddie’s door to spend time with him.

It would be slightly easier to ignore all of this if it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie acts the same way when it comes to Steve. And Eddie is halfway in love with the guy, so. It makes him wonder.

But despite all of this, Eddie still hasn’t made a move. Steve either. Until now maybe.

Eddie clears his throat, finally finding his words. “Well, as entertaining as it must’ve been to watch me.” He grins. “You’ll have more fun if you actually play with us. Maybe next time I can finally convince you to join.”

Hazel eyes narrow at him. “If I play, will you threaten to cut off my hand too?”

“Nah, I promise to go easy on you since it’s your first time.” He winks and Steve’s eyes widen, the blush from before making a wonderful return.

“I- I haven’t said yes-”

“Yet.”

Steve huffs. “What makes you so sure that you can convince me?” He asks with an arched eyebrow. “The kids have tried and failed and you know how relentless they are.”

“Yeah, but I can be very persuasive.” He gestures at himself with a hand flourish. “You know, as a cult leader and all.”

Steve hums. “Of course.” He leans his hip against the counter, only an inch away from Eddie’s thigh.

“There’s gotta be something I can do to convince you,” Eddie says, moving his thigh until it touches Steve’s hip. “Something I can give you in exchange. To make it worth your while.”

Steve’s eyes immediately dart down to Eddie’s lips. Eddie’s stomach swoops. There it is.

“You’re right,” Steve says, and in one quick movement, he pushes himself away from the counter and moves to stand between Eddie’s legs. Holy fuck. “There’s one thing.”

Anticipation bubbles up in Eddie’s stomach. “Yeah? What- what is it?” He asks with a suddenly dry throat.

Steve ducks his head, glancing at Eddie through his eyelashes. “A kiss from the Dungeon Master?” He asks in a shy whisper.

Eddie stares at him for a second, lips parted in surprise because goddamn shitting fuck. Then-

“Not the goblin?” He asks in his stupid goblin voice. Like a fucking loser.

As soon as he blurts it out he slaps a hand against his face. “Fucking Christ, I can’t believe I just did that. That was so lame. I’m just fucking nervous, sorry.”

Steve wraps his fingers around Eddie’s wrist, lowering his hand. His eyes are sparkling with fondness. “Don’t be, it’s cute,” he says with a soft chuckle.

A nearly hysterical giggle bubbles up in Eddie’s throat but it abruptly cuts off when Steve places his hands on Eddie’s thigh and leans in.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you gonna give me that kiss or what?” Steve asks oh so sweetly.

And Eddie doesn’t waste a moment after that, he finally goes for it. He cups Steve’s cheeks and tugs his face closer, pressing their mouths together, feeling his chest explode with warmth as he thinks finally and pinch me and holy fucking shit.

The kiss is sweet and slow. It starts a little tentative, just lips slotting together, Steve’s bottom lip fitting perfectly between Eddie’s. But then something shifts- Steve’s hands settle on Eddie’s waist, his thumbs digging into his hip bones while Eddie’s fingers find their way to Steve’s hair, scratching at his scalp, tangling with the soft strands, tugging on them. The last one makes Steve’s mouth fall open in a gasp, just enough for Eddie to press in, catching Steve’s lower lip between his teeth and biting down hard enough to earn himself a small whine. Then he lets it go, easing his tongue across Steve’s lip and licking into his mouth.

He loses track of anything else that happens when Steve’s own tongue licks into his mouth in return.

After a while the kiss softens again, turning into something slow and tender until it comes to a natural stop, once they can’t ignore the need to breathe anymore.

Steve pulls back but Eddie doesn’t let him go far, keeping a firm hold on the lapels of his dorky polo shirt. “Definitely worth my while but-”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow. “But?”

“But,” Steve says, his red, wet, well-kissed lips stretching into a wicked grin. “I think I’m gonna need more convincing.”

Eddie grins back. “Oh, I think that can be arranged.”

He tugs Steve closer again and he comes willingly, sighing happily when their lips slot together once more. God, Eddie is so fucked. They’ve kissed once and he’s already addicted to kissing Steve. He’s convinced that he could stay like this forever, lazily making out with him on his kitchen counter, tongues exploring, hands wandering.

And he probably would’ve- if a shrill voice didn’t make them jump apart.

“What the hell is going on here!” Dustin yells.

Steve whirls around so fast he almost faceplants on his kitchen floor and Eddie jumps back and hits his head against one of the upper cupboards.

He lets out a string of creative curses as he rubs the back of his head, seeing black spots when he opens his eyes. Despite those, he can still see the whole party standing in the kitchen doorway, staring at them with expressions ranging from utter shock (Sinclair and Henderson) to disgust (Wheeler) to smugness (Jeff, Gareth, Dougie, and weirdly enough, Erica).

“Uh,” Steve says dumbly as he tries to find his words, but there’s no lying their way out of this one and they both know it. They were just caught with their tongues down each other’s throats and Eddie’s hands on Steve’s ass.

“Well?” Dustin prompts in a bitchy tone.

“I was, uh, convincing Steve to join D&D next week,” Eddie says, which is, technically, the truth.

Gareth snorts, raising an eyebrow. “With your tongue?”

Eddie gives a gleeful laugh. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

“Eddie,” Steve hisses, flushing to the tips of his ears.

“That’s gross!” Wheeler cries, his face scrunching up which is rich coming from him, Eddie thinks, considering he saw him sucking face with El more times than he would’ve liked in the short time she was in Hawkins after everything. So he knows Wheeler has nothing against kissing and it makes him wonder if he might have something against Eddie kissing a boy, or boys kissing boys in general and Eddie loves the kid, he loves all of them but he will sit him down for some tough love if he happens to not be okay with-

There’s a slapping sound as Erica smacks him upside the head.

“Ouch!”

“Not cool, butthead,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Wheeler. “Boys can kiss boys too.”

The corner of Eddie’s mouth tugs up in a smile. Just like that, she’s currently his favorite.

“What?” Wheeler asks, rubbing the back of his head. “I know that. I don’t care that Eddie wants to kiss guys, I care that he wants to kiss Steve!”

“Hey!” Steve protests with an affronted frown.

“Eddie is cool and Steve is so lame! And he’s my sister’s ex!” He says with extra snark.

Eddie can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. Steve’s head snaps in his direction, his offended expression now directed at him. “Sorry, sorry,” he says between giggles. He clears his throat and gives Wheeler a stern face. It’s a much different scolding than the one he thought he would be giving him just a few moments ago and he’s grateful for that. “Steve isn’t lame. Yes, his music taste is shit and he owns more polo shirts than an 80-year-old-”

“Dude, are you defending me or helping Mike insult me?” Steve mumbles with a pout.

“But!” Eddie says, ignoring him. “He’s also badass and he’s saved your sorry asses multiple times and he’s nice enough to let you pipsqueaks eat his food and trash his house every week and he’s hot as fuck, so. Show some respect, Wheeler.”

Mike’s face scrunches up. “What does Steve being hot have to do with anything? Ew!”

But before Eddie can reply to that, Dustin takes a step forward, looking between the two. “So this is a thing now? Are you guys a thing?” He asks, narrowing his eyes at them.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look, both of them trying to communicate the same thing- do you want to be a thing? Steve gives him a sheepish smile and a nod, and in response, Eddie wraps his arms and legs around him, essentially hanging off of Steve’s back like a koala and trapping him against the counter. “Yes, Henderson. We are, as you so eloquently put it, a thing.”

Eddie expects more outrage, but Dustin nods solemnly. “Okay, cool. Just- no flirting at the D&D table. And no kissing!” There are nods and noises of agreement from the rest of the party.

Eddie lets out an indignant squeak. “Excuse me, this is a dictatorship and I’m in charge! And the Dungeon Master decides that there will be kissing, butthead,” he announces, and then to prove a point, he smacks a sloppy kiss against Steve’s cheek.

There’s a lot of groaning and whining and fake-gagging.

“Dude, it’s like watching my parents kiss,” Sinclair says and Henderson nods, rubbing at his eyes like it physically hurt him to see Eddie kiss Steve.

Eddie rolls his eyes- and they call him dramatic.

“Fine, fine, no kissing,” he says and sees Steve pout out of the corner of his eye. “But I won’t be deprived of the joy of flirting with one Sir Stephen.”

Steve leans back against Eddie’s chest, twisting his neck to arch an eyebrow at him. “Sir Stephen?”

“I’ve been working on your character sheet for weeks,” Eddie says with a grin. And it’s true, he had the feeling that he would be able to convince Steve to play and he wanted to be ready. If he’d known a kiss was all it took to do it, he would’ve done it much sooner.

“That’s presumptuous of you,” Steve mumbles, but there’s a smile teasing at his lips. Eddie shrugs, nuzzling his face against Steve’s shoulder.

“Fine!” Dustin groans, reminding Eddie that he and Steve aren’t alone. “As long as you stay in character.”

Eddie grins wickedly, already looking forward to flirting with Steve through all his characters, even the goblin.

“Anyway,” Jeff says, clapping his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. “We were on our way out. We would offer to take the kiddos home, but Dougie’s piece of shit car won’t fit them all.” Dougie protests with a “Hey!” that they all ignore.

Usually, Eddie doesn’t mind driving the kids around, but right now, a part of him does wish that he could stay a little longer with Steve. The other part can’t wait to get home so he can scream into a pillow.

“Nah, I got it. Gentleman, lady, grab your things, we’ll head out in a second,” he says, making shooing motions with his hands.

Sinclair rolls his eyes. “He just wants more time to make out with Steve,” he mutters as they all start to pile out of the kitchen.

“Correct, Sinclair!”

He and Wheeler make gagging noises, earning a shove from Erica as she follows them. Yeah, she’s definitely his favorite.

Henderson lingers on the doorway.

“Any other rules you wish to impose on us, Master Nog?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dustin shakes his head, curls bouncing. “No, I’m just- I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

Eddie blinks. “Oh,” he exhales softly, touched by the kid’s words.

“Thanks, Henderson,” Steve says, and he sounds touched too.

“Yeah, thanks, kid.”

“And I love you both, but if you get divorced, I will pick sides.” And with one final narrow-eyed look, he turns on his heels and leaves.

“Which side?” Eddie asks, but the little shit pretends he doesn’t hear him. “Henderson! Which side?” His shoulders slump. “Brat.”

“Too bad we’re never gonna find out,” Steve says, turning around to face Eddie without dislodging his arms or legs that are still wrapped around him.

Eddie’s heart stutters in his chest. “Never? That’s presumptuous of you,” he says, echoing his words from before.

Steve shrugs. “I just know I don’t plan to break up with you- or divorce you like the kid said.”

Oh yeah, Eddie definitely needs a pillow to scream into right about now. “Um, yeah, me neither, so I guess we’re stuck together.”

Steve nods with a dopey smile. “And we’ll never know who Dustin would’ve picked.”

There’s a short silence.

Then, “He would’ve picked me,” they both say at the same time.

Steve squawks. “Me!”

“No, me!”

“I’ve known him longer!”

“He thinks I’m cooler!”

And so on until Eddie gets tired of arguing and shuts Steve up with a kiss. Before they can deepen it though, they’re once again interrupted by the kids.

“Eddie!” Dustin yells.

“Stop sucking face and let’s go!” Wheeler adds and Eddie can’t see him, but he knows his nose is scrunched up in disgust.

“We’re gonna be late!” Sinclair adds, urgently, and Erica mhm’s in agreement.

Eddie throws his head back with a groan. “Jesus H. Christ! They’re so annoying.”

“They are,” Steve chuckles, brushing their noses together. “Hey, you wanna come over tomorrow? We can work on that character thing together. Just you and me.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, lips parted in awe. Steve and D&D? There must be hearts in his eyes right now or bursting out of him like he’s a cartoon. “You’re offering to do nerdy shit with me? God, you’re a dream, Jesus Christ!” He says, hands coming up to cup either side of Steve’s face and peppering kisses all over it- his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, and finally, his lips.

Steve giggles. “So, that’s a yes?”

“I’ll be here,” Eddie says with a grin.

Steve wraps his arms around his neck. “And since the kids won’t be there I expect there to be kissing and flirting.”

Eddie inches closer, smirking. “Hm, you can count on it, sweetheart.”

This time they don’t even get to kiss before the kids are yelling again, this time in unison. “Eddie!”

Eddie lets go of Steve’s waist and slaps his hands against his face. “Motherfucker!” He groans. Then louder, “I’m coming!”

Steve shakes his head with a laugh as Eddie hops down from the counter.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Eddie tells him.

Steve gives him another dopey smile- or rather the same one since it hasn’t left his face at all. “Can’t wait.”

Eddie sweeps in for a quick kiss, one that the kids can’t interrupt, marveling for a second at the fact that he can simply do that now. Then with a final tug to Steve’s flowery apron, he skips out of the kitchen, turning around at the doorway to look at Steve one last time. He’s leaning against the counter, smile firmly plastered on his face and looking at Eddie like-

Well, exactly like Eddie is looking at him. Lovestruck, he thinks comes close to describing it. And ain’t that something.

He gives Eddie one of those little finger waves, and in return, Eddie blows him a kiss. Steve’s cheeks turning pink is the last thing he sees before he leaves the kitchen and joins the kids in the living room.

“Okay, shitheads!” He says, clapping his hands together to get their attention. “Which one of you am I sending home walking?”

#writing #ficlet #steddie #THIS IS PERFECT #LITERALLY PERFECT #SO SO SO FUN

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sailing-through-hawkins · 5 days

Text

STWG prompt 20/4/24

prompt: accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss

pairing/character(s): steddie

i somehow wrote 1.8k... enjoy

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever been this distracted by a customer before at work. He’s just so… hot. Like, the usual customers he serves are rich and well-dressed, sure. But they’re businessmen well-dressed, and that can’t even begin to describe this particular customer. He’s been calling him Hot Guy in his head for the past thirty minutes.

Hot Guy is in a suit, yes, but that’s not even the best part of this man’s look. The suit’s all black and hugs his waist deliciously, but it’s everything else that has Steve practically drooling where he stands by the bar, waiting for his next round of drinks to be made. Hot Guy looks a little less pristine and perfect than the usual businessmen; his hairs up in a messy ponytail, strands of a fringe framing his face, and he has beautiful silver earrings on and an expensive looking chain around his neck. And every time he moves just so, Steve gets to see a peek of a tattoo on his chest as his half-unbuttoned black shirt moves. Gorgeous…

“All ready for you, Steve.”

He’s snapped out of it by the bartender on shift, and looks at the bar to see, oh yes, all of his drinks are ready. He offers the bartender a smile and a thank you, and gets to balancing them on his serving tray.

See, he can get a little distracted by hot customers, but he can’t be seen as a slacker. He cannot afford to lose this job.

He and Robin finally were able to move to Chicago four months ago, and it took him three months (and a good chunk of his emergency savings) to find a job as a waiter at some restaurant. It’s not even a particularly nice job. Sure, the restaurant is fancy as hell, and the customers tip really fucking well, but the pay leaves much to be desired. Like, a usual customer (rich) tips him more than he gets paid for a whole shift! And he’s not complaining about the tips, per say, but when the restaurant’s clientele can tip that much… surely the restaurant can afford to pay their workers a decent wage!

Just as he manages to balance the drinks on his tray, he notices his newest co-worker, Danny, fiddling with his own collection of drink glasses. Danny looks awfully shifty as he glances over his shoulder at a table and then takes a small sachet out of his pocket, tears a corner and pours it into one of the wine glasses.

Steve’s eyes narrow at the action. What the fuck?

Over the last week of Danny working at the restaurant, he has thought him to be unpleasant at best and suspicious at worst. The one time Steve tried to make conversation with him, just asking where he worked before there, he got a glare and a clipped comment about not getting personal. Now that he thinks about it, Steve doesn’t even know Danny’s last name.

He watches Danny pick up the tray, do a final glance around the restaurant (either not perceiving Steve as a threat or not seeing him stood five feet away), and walks toward the table area.

And he’s not saying Danny would poison a customer. He’s not saying that, because that is insane. But. What’s the alternative? That Danny got a request to put, like, powdered vitamins in someone’s drink? It’s just shifty that’s all!

And, like he said, he can’t afford to lose this job.

That includes if it gets shut down for becoming a murder scene. Or him accidentally abetting a murder by not doing anything!

What does he even do? He’s going to look genuinely insane, whether he's right or wrong.

Danny reaches a table (it’s the table Hot Guy is seated at) with his tray, and plasters on a customer service smile as he starts dishing out the drinks. Steve keeps an eye on the (possibly) tainted wine glass as Danny puts it down in front of- in front of Hot Guy. Shit.

Steve’s heart starts speeding up as he watches Hot Guy pick up the wine glass, inspecting it and giving it a little swirl before starting to lift it, and- fuck it.

Steve bolts over to the table, definitely knocking over another server’s tray as he goes, and has to shove the wine glass out of Hot Guy’s hand to stop whatever’s about to happen.

The liquid splashes onto Hot Guy’s chest (Steve hopes the poison isn’t, like, corrosive), then the glass shatters to the floor, and Steve’s left heaving as he catches his breath. Not from the exercise, but from the adrenaline rush. Because Steve is- oh god, he’s in Hot Guy’s lap.

He scrambles to stand up, cheeks bright red, and chances a glance at Danny. On the surface, Danny looks shocked and apologetic to the rest of the businessmen at the table, but Steve sees his right eye twitch and his ears start to tint red. Okay. So. Even if he looks crazy, maybe he made a good move.

He looks back toward Hot Guy only to find that he’s already being watched with an inquisitive gaze. The man still has his hand held up like he’s holding the wine glass still, and he has one (perfectly manicured) eyebrow raised at Steve. Steve feels his cheeks heat up even more under his attention.

“I am so sorry, sir.” Steve finds himself blurting out, but Hot Guy just shakes his head at him, oddly calm.

“I’ll get you another drink, Mr Munson.” Danny says, giving Steve a pointed glare before walking away.

Hot Guy- No. Mr Munson looks like he’s about to say something, but Steve needs to get him somewhere he can tell him what happened away from other people and before Danny tries it again, so he boldly puts a hand on the man’s shoulder. The possibility of looking crazy be damned.

“Let me help you get cleaned up, sir.”

Mr Munson considers him for a moment more, and then nods. Maybe he sees the frantic, anxious look in Steve’s expression, or maybe he just wants to yell at Steve outside of the view of his assumed co-workers.

"I'll be right back. Don't talk business without me." Mr Munson addressed his table before following him off.

Steve leads him to the customer toilets, and then takes him to the staff hallway just behind them. Mr Munson’s eyebrows raise at that, and at the serious expression on Steve’s face.

“Sir, I’m so sorry for that, but I… This is going to sound insane, but I think my co-worker poisoned your drink.”

He levels Mr Munson with a serious expression as he speaks, trying to negate the craziness of what he’s saying by showing he’s not joking. Through doing so, of course, Steve also gets the chance to get a better look at Mr Munson’s face, which is just… like he said earlier, gorgeous. And that’s not even talking about the deep brown of his eyes.

Mr Munson doesn’t even flinch at Steve’s words, just looks down at the wine on his shirt with a vague look of disgust.

“I see.”

He doesn’t sound surprised. What the fuck? Who is this man?

“You don’t seem shocked.” Steve finds himself saying, and then his eyes widen and he smacks a hand over his mouth, “Ignore me! I don’t want to get involved in any, um. Not crimes. I’m going to stop talking now.”

As he keeps talking, Mr Munson’s face contorts into an amused smile, and his gaze wanders over Steve’s form, then back up to his eyes. When Steve’s done rambling, the man laughs.

“No. I’m not shocked.” Is all Mr Munson says, “But unfortunately, you are involved now, sweetheart.”

Steve feels the colour drain from his face at the words and the serious tone Mr Munson speaks them in, but before he can even squeak (or scream) in response, the Staff Only door slams open, and Steve is greeted with two pistols pointed at him.

Then he squeaks. And puts his hands up in a surrender position, even though the two men glaring at him don’t look like police officers. They’re wearing suits, like they’re customers of the restaurant. And they completely ignore Steve in favour of scanning over Mr Munson.

Holy shit. What the fuck is his life? Robin will never believe him when he gets home. If he gets home.

“Put the guns down, boys.” Mr Munson says from beside Steve, and then (gently) puts his hands on Steve’s arms to push them back down to his sides, “No need for all that, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, Eddie. We thought- you just disappeared, and we heard glass shattering, so-” One of the gunmen says, stumbling through his words slightly.

“We thought you’d been kidnapped. Again.” The other says, looking unimpressed.

Eddie rolls his eyes, and Steve notes how he hasn’t removed his hands from him yet.

“I’ve been told that- sorry, sweetheart, what’s your name?” Eddie starts, maintaining eye contact with Steve only.

Sweetheart. Kill him now. How is his dick still working in these conditions, and why is 'sweetheart' doing it for him? Maybe it's more to do with Eddie himself than the word...

“Steve.” He squeaks out.

“Right. Steve, here, thinks my drink was poisoned by his co-worker. He’s the culprit for the glass, and this,” Eddie gestures to his wet shirt, “and then he took me here to clean me up.”

“What’s the name of this co-worker?” One of the gunmen ask Steve, voice intense, and when Steve just blinks at him he takes a step forward like he’s about to put a hand on him. Steve can’t help his flinch in response.

Which Eddie apparently feels, given the way he tsks at his men and takes a step back, pulling Steve with him.

“No threatening my possible saviour, Jeffy. This isn’t an interrogation.”

“His- His name’s Danny. I don’t know a last name.” Steve says finally, and gulps when Eddie rubs his thumbs back and forth where his hands are still on him.

“Good boy.” Eddie says softly, and Steve can’t help the shudder that runs through him.

Okay. It's confirmed. Apparently being mildly traumatised by guns doesn’t stop him from getting horny. Good to know. Hopefully Eddie doesn't notice how red he's gotten again.

Eddie finally lets go of him to step toward his men.

“You heard the man. Gareth, go get a sample of the wine that spilled on the floor and figure out if Stevie here is right, and Jeff, go tell everyone else who we’re looking for and find Danny.”

The two gunmen leave with their orders, and Eddie turns back to Steve. He’s looking at Steve with that intense gaze once again, eyes dragging down to his beat-up Reeboks and back up to his dishevelled face.

“Now, how can I reward you for probably saving my life, sweetheart?”

#steddie #au content: mob #writing #drabble #not really but for the sake of categories #anyways I'M SO INVESTED #like mafia aus don't really do anything for me usually but this one immediately has me HOOKED

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