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#and yes - they get married by an Elvis impersonator at 3am
harmonictechnicality · 9 months
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Eddie's One Rule
prompt: cake | wc: 311 | rating: T (for language) | for @steddiemicrofic's August prompt :)
Eddie had been perfectly clear on the “No Strippers” rule for his bachelor party. Tacky Las Vegas casino? Sure. Concerning amounts of tequila served in glow-in-the-dark shot glasses? Whatever. Karaoke at a space-themed diner?
… Okay. He’ll admit - that last one sounds fucking awesome. He’s been rehearsing a thrashy rendition of Mr. Roboto for weeks now. In all honesty, strippers were his only veto. 
But here they are, standing in a dimly-lit club that’s not even remotely close to the Vegas strip. 
“Low blow, man. Really.” Eddie gestures to the pole in the center of the room, then back towards Gareth. Should’ve revoked his Best Man privileges while he had the chance. 
Gareth ignores him and yells, “Bring it in, fellas!”
“Bring what in-”
The low strums of ‘I Touch Myself’ by the Divinyls flows through the speakers as the backdoor opens. The rest of Eddie’s wedding party begin rolling out a wooden cart with goddamn cake on it.
And it’s not an ordinary cake - not even an edible one. This one is clearly fake and almost six feet tall.
The cardboard lid pops off, revealing Eddie’s fiancé emerging from the top, fucking shirtless (which is the least surprising part of the evening).
His anger dissolves behind the sound of Steve belting the song, head swaying offbeat. Looking so damn happy. Eddie hasn’t made many good decisions in his life, but Steve is by far his best.
“Still wanna marry me after this little stunt?” Steve asks, pointing at the cake structure around him.
Eddie saunters over, rolling his eyes despite that swirling pulse of love in his chest. Steve automatically bends over from the center. Kisses him, still humming the song as their lips meet. 
“Why wait?” Eddie smiles. He brushes a few strands of Steve’s hair behind his ear and whispers, “We’re in Vegas right now, baby.”
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