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munsons-maiden · 2 years

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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟐

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏

First of all, thank you so much for all the support on this series so far; all the lovely comments and reblogs and asks are making my days and I'm so happy about every single one of them🖤 I think this is the chapter I'm proudest of so far. I hope you enjoy! - Love, Kiki 🖤

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Eddie Munson x female reader

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | THEN. You’re the only survivor among the Mind Flayer’s victims, thanks to your friends - but after the Battle of Starcourt, you find yourself adrift in a sea of nightmares. Until an encounter in the woods with Eddie The Freak Munson offers an unexpected life line and turns your world upside down. NOW. Four months have passed since the winter night you walked out of Eddie’s trailer and his life for good. But when the mysterious headaches and nightmares return full-force and something wicked stirs in sleepy Hawkins, starting a witch hunt against Eddie, you realize that there are two things in this world that might be more persistent than you’d thought: Evil…and love. The story is told in two timelines: the past (after the Battle of Starcourt) and the present (during the events of season 4).

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 | angst with a happy ending, fluff, smut, it turned into a fix it fic for ST4

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (you need to be 18+ to read this story!), angst with a happy ending, attempted assault, bullying, canon-typical violence

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 | ~1 hour

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (only read if you’re 18+ years old! virgin!Eddie x virgin!reader), unprotected sex (please stay safe in real life!), mentions of attempted assault, canon-typical gore & violence, blood, mentions of spiders

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 ♡

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟔

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟖 ▹ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟎 ▹𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟏

[Tuesday, March 25th, 1986. NOW.]

Eddie Munson had always believed in fairy tales.

At first, it had simply been because his old man had taught him to believe in them. Magic potions from silver flasks that smelled like acid and made Eddie scrunch his nose, pixie dust his dad had sold in little plastic bags, the same glittering powder which had carried his mum to Neverland before he’d ever had the chance to remember more of her than the lavender-and-rosemary scent of her dark curls or the tune of her song when she’d hummed. Treasure hunts.

Growing up, though, Eddie had come to the painful realization that it were the magic potions which made his dad so angry at times, that treasure hunts weren’t treasure hunts when the treasure actually belonged to someone else already, and that pixie dust didn’t carry anyone anywhere except six feet under – and the fairy tales had lost their glitter and magic.

Until an old book had resurfaced, a single thread tying him to his mother – and his love for stories had been rekindled by the words on its worn-out, yellowed pages.

His old man had taught Eddie that not all was gold that glittered.

The Lord Of The Rings had taught him that magic existed – between the pages of a book, and in the colorful world of one’s own mind.

And the girl resting in his bed in front of him, motionless but for the steady rise and fall of her chest, had taught Eddie that true love, the one he’d believed only to exist in stories, did exist – at the price of broken hearts.

But that was okay, fine by him, as long as her heart was beating and her chest rising and falling with each breath, Eddie could deal with the pain of a broken heart. That’s what today had taught him. Nothing could be more painful than the though of you being just…gone.

The tinkling melody of his guitar filled the air of his Rightside Up bedroom, the strings now biting his fingertips with every stroke, but Eddie kept playing because for one, he was still scared senseless Vecna would still get you, and he feared he’d climb his walls with nerves as soon as he put the guitar away.

So music it was.

Who would have thought that Sleeping Beauty would be snoozing off her own curse in his bed one day, he added in his mind as he watched you, the gentle flutter of your eyelids, your beautiful features serene.

Just like all those Saturdays you’d napped in his bed while he’d played his guitar for you. The song remains the same.

And the irony of this song of all songs being the one to break Vecna’s curse wasn’t lost on Eddie while his restless mind filled in the lyrics to the melody for what might have been the hundredth time. Someday, love will find you…true love won’t desert you…

If only a true love’s kiss held any power in reality as well.

There were a few tiny white particles left which had caught in the strands of your hair – ashes from the fire, or spores from that strange dark mirror realm he couldn’t tell – but Eddie didn’t dare to reach out and brush them away.

He would play his guitar until his goddamn fingers fell off.

The words you’d sobbed right before unconsciousness had claimed you were playing in his mind on repeat, over and over again as he was trying to make sense of them, of the flames blooming around you like wildflowers in a meadow. His thoughts felt like a ball of wool ensnaring his as he kept trying to disentangle the damn yarn.

“I don’t think you have to keep playing,” Wheeler’s soft voice ripped through the daze in Eddie’s mind, making him start a little before she sat down at the edge of the bed to glance at you. “If you want to catch some sleep, I’ll stay and watch her.”

“’m fine,” Eddie replied, wincing a little at the pain in his throat, the lingering acidic taste of smoke. He’d never been this hoarse in his life, not even after that one gig at the Hideout on a Saturday where Corroded Coffin had played for four hours straight and he’d felt like dying afterwards.

“Thank you,” Wheeler murmured now, her voice strained with the unshed tears in her eyes as they locked on his. “For saving her.”

“All I did was play guitar.”

“That’s not what I meant. After last summer…” She drifted off, the words hanging in the air, and Eddie’s fingers stilled on the strings when Wheeler went on, “She slipped away from us, after Starcourt. She never told us what exactly he made her do, but –“

“Wait. Wait, did – what do you mean, made her do?”

There was a beat of silence as he watched Nancy Wheeler’s face go from confusion to wide-eyed realization. “She didn’t tell you.”

Eddie tilted his head, already feeling his heart sink. “Tell me what?”

“Last year…the Mind Flayer got her. She was one of the Flayed. The only one who made it out alive.”

***

You were floating.

Adrift on a sea of darkness, like a tiny white particle in air of a dead mirror world, carried by the tune of a song.

Peaceful.

Numb.

There was only darkness…and a scent.

Of leather and soap, sweat and…chocolate, mingling with the faint traces of cigarette smoke, a mix that shouldn’t have smelled good but did, intoxicating and so beautifully familiar as it immersed you.

You loved that scent.

It smelled like Saturday afternoons and happiness, of kisses shared beneath a sea of stars.

Of happiness.

Of home.

For a few fleeting moments, you just kept drifting on this melody of calmness, the soft, tinkling tunes floating alongside you on the breeze.

And when the darkness started to fray at the edges, unravelling like a spool of yarn – you realized this tinkling melody immersing you was real, as familiar as the instrument it belonged to.

A guitar.

It all came rushing back to you.

Vecna. The vision. Eddie, alive, playing his guitar and singing for you to break the curse Vecna, Henry Creel, had put you under.

Eddie.

The rest of your senses snapped back to life one by one, like a row of light switches being flipped.

Your eyes fluttered open.

There were band posters plastering the walls, every letter and detail of them engraved in your mind from all the weekend afternoons you’d spent in this room, on this very bed someone had tucked you into.

Eddie’s bed.

And when you turned your head with a soft rustle of the pillow underneath, your eyes fell on the lonely figure sitting on a kitchen chair beside the bed, one knee tucked up, foot placed on the edge of the seat, dark curls falling over his shoulders as his fingers plucked the strings of the Warlock guitar in his hands to fill the air of the small space with a melody, your brain adding in the lyrics you knew by heart, just like you did the mixtape it was on.

Here we stand,

Worlds apart

Hearts broken in two

Two

Two…

“Eddie.” Your voice sounded as if you’d swallowed glass – just like your throat felt – but at the soft sound of it, Eddie’s head snapped up, his hands falling away from the guitar in his lap.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, rubbing his face with a soot-stained, trembling hand, “You scared the shit outta me, monster slayer.”

His voice was as hoarse as yours when he murmured the words.

There were tears shimmering in his eyes.

His beautiful umber eyes.

No eerie white robbing the color from his irises, no snapped neck stealing the life from them, no blood streaming down his cheeks.

Vecna hadn’t gotten him. Eddie was alive.

And he looked horrible. As if he’d gone through Hell and back – and the horrified realization hit you that he had.

Ashes and soot were smeared all over his face, the color matching the black of the bruises blooming on his jaw, on his temple and beneath the gash in his eyebrow you’d stitched with the fish hook what felt like a lifetime ago yet had only been hours.

You slowly sat up in his bed, the sheets falling away from your chest. “How long -?”

“Six hours,” he replied, his voice so croaky that it must have been hurting him to speak.

“Have you –“ The lump forming in your throat cut you off as you weakly nodded at his guitar, and a frayed little smile tugged at his lips as he finished, “Been playing guitar all the time? Yup. I mean, the Walkman didn’t help, so…yeah.” The half-smile grew into a timid little smirk laced with mischief when he added, “I’m gonna blame it on you if I ever get sick of The Journey.”

Love, overwhelming love, flooded you at the thought that Eddie had been by your side, playing for you, despite the bone-deep exhaustion shining in his umber eyes as he watched you tentatively now.

Your gaze flitted to the closed door of his bedroom.

You could still feel it; the call of the gate behind this door.

“How are you feelin’?”, Eddie asked softly, placing the Warlock guitar on the ground beside his chair before he grabbed something from the floor to hold it out for you.

It was a bottle of Yoo-Hoo.

“You-hoo should drink,” he said softly – and the sweet gesture, the old joke…it broke the last of your self-control.

You didn’t manage to muster a reply.

The tears started falling while a lonely, choked sob ripped from you, making pain flare in your body to make you curl up on yourself, knees tucked against your chest and arms wrapped around your shins as you let your head fall, as if making yourself small would somehow keep you from falling apart.

All your secrets, those ugly, ugly secrets you’d kept from Eddie…like Vecna’s creepers, they’d been festering, spreading beneath the surface, carving stains of rot to eat away at you, tarnish and choke and throttle until they were done with you, moving on to claim Eddie next, and the rest of your friends. The rest of Hawkins.

By opening that door, you’d sentenced them all to death.

And by rousing Vecna’s anger, you’d sentenced Eddie to a fate even far crueler than death.

“Hey,” Eddie cooed, the mattress dipping as he sat beside you, one leather-clad arm wrapping around you. His tone took on a desperate, light-hearted note as he tried, “You don’t have to drink the Yoo-Hoo, monster slayer. Pretty sure I got a can of Sprite left somewhere, too.”

His attempt to cheer you up, so utterly Eddie, always trying to set you at ease, made the tears only fall harder, the sobs rip through you with fresh force as Vecna’s words echoed in your head.

“Do you truly think your songbird would be singing for you if he knew the truth?”

Yes. Yes, Eddie would have. The boy who’d chosen kindness and compassion when anger and hostility would have been the easy way throughout all the bullying he’d had to endure in his life, all the scorn and mockery and judgement he was still facing simply for being different…you knew it without a doubt that he would have saved you, no matter what.

Eddie had been saving you from the moment he’d ripped Jason off of you that night in the woods, had saved you again from the clutches of another monster despite the cruel things you’d said, the way you’d so thoroughly broken his heart.

Your songbird, struggling in the razor-sharp claws of a cat without even knowing it. And whatever you’d done to anger Vecna…Eddie would be the one to pay the price.

You curled up against him, face pressed into the fabric of his Hellfire shirt right below his collarbone as you wept.

“It’s my fault.” You barely managed to choke out the words between your sobs. “It’s my fault, Eddie. I let him in. I let him in –“

“Ssssh, I know,” Eddie soothed, “I know. You told me – us –“

They rushed back to you, slivers of memories. Shouts amidst the smoke, Nancy, Steve and Eddie calling out your name, your own confession nearly suffocated by the roar of the fire.

“Four gates. Four killings. He’ll tear down the barrier. Hawkins will fall. I opened the door. I let him in.”

He knew. They all knew, now.

And still…Eddie was here, holding you in his arms as you wept.

“It’s okay, monster slayer,” he cooed, “I promise it’s gonna be okay again.”

You shifted, burying your face at the crook of his neck as all the pain, all the pent-up guilt and shame of those past months and the past few hours ever since that revelation of Max’s painting at Skull Rock spilled free like the flood from a dam thoroughly broken.

Eddie held you in his arms, the warmth of his body seeping through the soot-stained fabric of his Hellfire shirt, the scent of smoke and sweat and the water of Lover’s Lake which still clung to him wrapping around you while the echo of his steady heartbeat mingled with the frail sounds of your sobs in your ears and the tips of his curls tickled the side of your face as he rested his cheek against the crown of your head.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” Eddie soothed, his voice raw and raspy from the smoke while his fingers drew lazy, soothing circles on your back and your tears kept soaking the collar of his Hellfire shirt.

He was here. The first one of your ugly secrets out in the open, and Eddie was still here. Holding you with such gentleness, as if he’d never let you go.

“It’s not,” you sobbed. “I opened the door for him, Eddie. It’s my fault. Chrissy and Fred and Patrick and Max and you –“

“The good thing about doors”, Eddie said softly, the vibration of his voice travelling through you as you kept your face pressed to the crook of his neck, “Is that they can be closed and locked again.”

“I’m like him. I’m –“

“No.” The gentle vehemence of Eddie’s voice took you off guard as he cut you off, “Listen, we’ve all done shit, ‘kay? Like, Harrington’s been a total douche. I’m selling drugs, for Christ’s sake, and I recently found out that Henderson secretly raised a whole goddamn Demogorgon. And I know you didn’t just, I dunno, rip open some door between worlds and invite Vecna over for tea and biscuits and shit, so however he got you to do it, we’ll find a way to un-do it. We’ll –“

“You don’t know anything about me, Eddie,” you whispered. You knew they’d hurt him, those same words you’d spat at him that November night – but the truth hurt. And it was time for Eddie to finally learn it.

All of it.

You expected for him to pull away, but the protective shield of his arms around you stayed as he breathed, “Yeah, you keep saying that. And I know it’s not true –“

“It is,” you cut him off, voice conquering the sobs still clawing at your insides.

And then it was you pulled away. Out of Eddie’s arms, wiping at the tears with the back of your hand as you scooted farther away from him, because you wouldn’t be able to stomach him pulling away as soon as you’d spilled the final secret.

But you’d made a decision. Had made it back when you’d still been in Vecna’s grasp, and it was a decision you should have made way sooner. Eddie deserved the truth.

It would snuff out everything he still felt for you, all the sparks your cruel words that November night hadn’t been able to suffocate despite all your best efforts. It would set him free.

How stupid you’d been then, to try and keep him away with a lie of indifference when all you’d have needed to do to drive him away from you forever would have been to tell the truth about those two days in summer.

“I did things, Eddie. Horrible things,” you uttered on a choked whimper, forcing out the words before cowardice could take the wheel. “Last summer –“

“I know what happened,” Eddie said softly. “I know that son of a bitch got you. Wheeler told me everything, when you were knocked out. But whatever he made you do, that wasn’t you.”

This trust, Eddie’s unshakable trust in you after all the hurt you’d caused him, was a dagger twisted in your chest all over again.

His beautiful eyes were pleading, shining with such warmth and compassion and tenderness as he watched you tuck your legs against your chest while he stayed at the edge of the mattress, once again cautious to give you space.

For a few selfish heartbeats, you allowed yourself to relish this expression in Eddie’s umber gaze as he watched you, waited for you to go on.

You memorized the exact shade of his irises, like sunlight falling through a glass of rich dark whiskey, memorized the tenderness in his gaze which felt like the first gentle rays of the spring sun caressing your skin after a freezing dark winter.

Memorized all of it, because once the next words had left your lips…it would be snuffed out like the flame of a candle by a storm.

You couldn’t bear to witness when that happened.

Suppressing the sobs, you squeezed your eyes shut.

Your voice was raw and strained, like ice covering a lake, ready to give in and crack at the slightest bit of pressure as you whispered, “Do you remember what I told you about becoming a cheerleader?”

It had been the most beautiful day in October, golden rays of the autumn sun spilling through the foliage of the clearing to paint streaks of chocolate and caramel into Eddie’s curls as he’d sat beside you on the top of the picnic table, the woods behind the sports field having become the twilight zone of your high school lives, the bridge between your worlds. The freak, and – no matter whether branded a slut or not – the cheerleader.

The not-so-good-anymore girl and the good-for-nothing boy.

Minutes later, he’d twirled you to the tunes of I Remember You floating from the headphones of his Walkman, right before that almost-kiss.

“I remember everything,” Eddie’s soft voice tore you out of the memory and back into the reality of the present, of the secret you were going to spill and everything the truth entailed.

“You know, when I joined the cheer squad back in sophomore year, I did it because I thought it’d keep me safe from bullies. Middle school wasn’t…a good place for me.”

“What did they do?”, Eddie had asked.

“I guess it wasn’t anything special. They did what all bullies do. Under the lead of Stacy Campbell.”

“Wait…Wasn’t she…?”

“One of the people who died in the fire at Starcourt. Yes.”

You’d never told him about the day Stacy and her minions had locked you in that supply closet, the hours spent sobbing in the dark. It didn’t matter, anyway – nothing Stacy had done to you had warranted what you’d done to her years later.

“Stacy Campbell,” you whispered. “She made my life living hell. For three years. Every day.” You swallowed against the tears, staying in the safe darkness of your closed eyes. “He made me choose his next victim. I chose her.”

The images were vivid in your mind. The Mind Flayer – Vecna – guiding your hand to grab her blonde ponytail, slam her head against the wall of the shower before she even had a chance to scream. Blood had run down the side of her face, leaving a stain on the tiles, on the blue fabric of her swimsuit. You remembered how you’d thrashed in the confines of the shadow which had locked you in your own mind, had pleaded for him to stop. You hadn’t wanted to do it. She’d been unconscious right away, unmoving when Heather had helped you tie her up with jump ropes and put her into Billy Hargrove’s Camaro while, locked away inside your own head, you’d screamed and screamed and screamed, cries for help nobody would ever hear; a battle lost before it had even begun.

“He made me bring her to him. To the old steel mill where he kept hiding. Building his…his army.”

“I’m only making you do what you always wanted to, little one.”

He’d shown them to you, all the memories of Stacy’s cruelties. The day she’d locked you in that closet, crushed your fingers in the door when you’d tried to escape. The utter helplessness, and the rage you’d felt that day for the first time, something in you breaking to release it.

A lonely sob ripped from you, momentarily stealing your next words as Eddie croaked, “You were possessed –“

“Don’t,” you whispered. You couldn’t stomach this unwavering gentleness in Eddie’s tone, still feeling the warmth of his gaze on you beyond your closed eyes, despite the ugly things you kept telling him. Not for much longer. “It felt good, Eddie. It…it felt good.”

It was as if your insides had turned into those bats, hacking and clawing at you from within as you desperately tried to stifle your sobs to get the next words out. “To make her pay. To see her screaming and terrified for once while I was the one in power. That was me. Not him. All me.”

The words, your tone dripping with the disgust and contempt you felt for yourself, rang through the heavy silence of Eddie’s bedroom, each one of them a thunderclap, too loud when they were barely more than the ghost of a whisper.

And all those clawed, fanged sobs finally ripped out of you, their force making you keel over.

Pain rippled through your body as the sobs shook you, tearing you to pieces while you pressed your face against your knees and waited. For the rustle of fabric telling you Eddie was rising from his place at the edge of the mattress, for his footsteps to retreat as he left and for the words his twin in Vecna’s trance had thrown at you.

All this time…it’s been you. All this goddamn time I’ve been running from monsters when the monster I should’ve run from was beside me all along.

A heartbeat passed.

Two.

There was the rustle of leather you’d been dreading to hear, a shift on the mattress – before Eddie’s hand took yours, gently prying it away from your legs to lace his fingers with yours. The touch of his warm skin against yours made the swarm of butterflies in your belly fly like a burst of confetti, bewilderment and shock warring in your chest as you felt him kneel in front of you on the bed.

And with a voice that hadn’t lost any of its tenderness, Eddie murmured, “Y/N. Please…look at me.”

It was strange, to hear him use your name instead of the nickname you’d come to love so much, lending weight to his plea.

Slowly lifting your head, you heeded it.

Beneath the blur of your tears, your eyes locked on Eddie’s, your heart thundering painfully against the confines of your ribcage with fear of what you might find in those umber eyes – and desperate, overpowering hope.

Eddie’s eyes were swimming with his own tears which had started running down his face, through the ashes still smeared across his cheeks.

And within…warmth. Of a sunny summer’s day.

The calloused pad of Eddie’s thumb flicked over the inside of your wrist in a soothing motion, just like he’d done at Skull Rock only hours ago, the touch fleeting and light and as innocent as the brush of a feather.

“I need you to listen to me now, ‘kay?”, Eddie murmured. “He made you do this shit. None of that was your fault, do you hear me? None of it.” He let go of your hand, both of his slowly rising to settle on the sides of your face, his thumbs catching the tears which kept running down your cheeks, the gesture filled with a tenderness that made your heart squeeze in your chest while his eyes held yours with an intensity nearly tangible in the small space between the two of you. “This son of a bitch has been targeting you for months. He…” Eddie trailed off, his eyes squeezing shut as he shook his head, and you realized that the pain in Eddie’s was for you.

For what Vecna had done to you.

“I know that,” you whimpered. “But I enjoyed it, Eddie.” Your voice had reached its breaking point. He needed to listen –

“And I understand that,” Eddie pressed, despair lacing his tone. “I understand it. Shit, you need to cut yourself some slack,” Eddie breathed, his hands still resting on your cheeks, his eyes swirling with a maelstrom of emotions.

Your eyes fluttered close, his words sinking in, meeting the echo of Vecna’s.

“We are alike, little thief. And you know it.”

“He said I’m like him,” you whispered. “Vecna. He said that’s why he chose me to open the door for him.”

“He’s lying.”

“What if he’s not?” It came out as another strangled cry. “How do you know he’s lying, Eddie? When he left, something stayed behind. And it keeps spreading. Like…like rot.”

A frail sob ripped from you as you barely managed to choke out the next words. “It keeps spreading. I can feel the gate. I feel it and there’s a part of me that wants to go through. That feels like…homesick for this place. I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared and I can’t run because what I’m scared of most is me. So how can you know that he’s lying?”

With a gentle caress, Eddie caught more of your tears, swiping them away as you opened your eyes to meet his again, your body melting into his soothing touch.

“Because he can use your shame against you,” Eddie said softly. “If you were like him, you wouldn’t be ashamed of these feelings. Shit, you wouldn’t care if you were good. The fact that this fucker can use this fear of being like him against you proves that you will never be like him. Wanting to hurt those who hurt us doesn’t make us monsters. It makes us human. And feeling guilt and shame for the part that wants revenge? That’s what makes us good, rather than evil. ‘Cause I bet my ass that fucker never felt a single ounce of guilt.”

He paused watching you, his eyes scanning yours as he waited for his words to sink in, before he added, so infinitely gentle, “And if you don’t trust yourself, trust your family of monster hunters right across the lawn at the Mayfields’, currently losing their shit because they’re so worried about you. They heard everything you said before you fainted. About the door. And not a single one of them, me included, believed that you could be some monster in disguise. Not for a single second. Trust me, okay? Because I know you. You keep repeating that I don’t, but I do, monster slayer. You are not like Vecna. And you’re not alone in this, either.”

You couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move – caught in the beautiful spell of Eddie’s gaze, this fierce trust he still held in you.

And you realized nothing had changed.

You’d finally told him all those things you’d been so sure would drive him away – and Eddie was still here. He’d stayed.

And this time, the tug you felt wasn’t that dark and twisted pull towards the gate beyond the door, but the gentle draw towards this beautiful young man whose song had saved you long before you’d even realized you’d needed saving.

Whose eyes had never lost their warmth for you despite all your ugly truths laid bare, whose trust in you had never faltered even when you’d lost yours. The boy who had been ready to walk into death alongside you because he hadn’t wanted to give up on you.

Your songbird.

And in this moment, you realized that it wasn’t the song Eddie played for you. The only thing which had mattered was that Eddie had been the one to sing it for you.

“We’re gonna make it right again.” His eyes were flashing with fierceness. “We’re gonna shut that door in this son of a bitch’s face and throw away the goddamn key.”

If you told him now that Vecna wanted to kill him, he would still stay.

There was no doubt about it now.

Eddie would stay. And if he stayed…he would die.

Your heart sank again, a stone dropped into a bottomless well.

“He will kill you,” you whispered, “He’ll kill you, Eddie.”

“You know what a guy wants to hear.”

“How are you not freaking out?”, you breathed, utterly bewildered.

Eddie’s thumb grazed your cheek in another fleeting caress as a mirthless chuckle bubbled from his lips. “Oh, no, I am. I’m, uh, freaking out but I’ve kinda been in the middle of a pretty long mental breakdown ever since this son of a bitch framed my sorry ass for triple murder and the town wants to see me burn at the stake. Shit.” He paused, taking a trembling breath. “But…I nearly lost you. And everything else kinda pales against the possibility that I could have. That you could have been gone. ‘cause I…”

His voice broke as he squeezed his eyes shut, his hands falling from your face to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head as if that could somehow chase the thought away. “I can deal with whatever shit is thrown my way. As long as you’re still there.”

You swallowed against the lump in your throat, the wave of fresh tears already brimming in your eyes.

“We’ll figure this out, ‘kay?”

“How?”, you whispered.

“Together.” A timid little smile played on Eddie’s lips. “As a team. The cheerleader and the freak, remember?”

An echo of the words he’d said when the two of you had skipped classes and Eddie had taken you for a hike around Lover’s Lake to escape the relentless bullying Jason’s lies had triggered.

They made your heart squeeze in your chest – with love and longing.

And to your surprise…you believed them. For this beautiful moment, you believed that everything would be okay, because Eddie was here.

“The slut and the freak,” you corrected with a whisper, and Eddie’s smile widened.

“You always tend to forget they upgraded me. It’s the perv and the slut.”

For a heartbeat, you beamed at each other, your heart racing in your chest and giddy warmth surging through your veins, before Eddie’s expression grew serious again. “Alright. So, uh. Before we start…anything else I should. You know. Know?”

You bit your lip. “I burned down the boathouse.”

Eddie gave a curt little nod, before you added, “And I’m about ninety-nine percent certain I burned down the townhouse as well.”

Another nod from Eddie. “Yeah, you nearly burned down my Upside Down trailer as well.”

“Does it freak you out?”

“Uh, I mean, after the past few days? You know you could have told me, right? I mean, you basically told me months ago, ‘cause arson was on your impressive list of crimes against the law but, uh, to be honest I’d thought that involved a bit of good old gasoline and some matches and not, you know…your mind. And even though you accidentally nearly barbecued us, I think it’s very metal. Very Stephen King of you.”

A giggle bubbled from your lips, genuine and so utterly relieved.

Eddie was doing what he’d done for you so many times before. Making you laugh; taking the sharp edge of things and setting you at ease like nobody else could.

“Is that how you fought the monsters?”

“No. I found out about it…yesterday.” It felt like a lifetime ago that Jason and his cronies had found Eddie at Rick’s, threatening to break his bones with the crowbars in their hands and hatred in their hearts. But the fresh bruises marring Eddie’s face, peeking out beneath the soot and ashes smeared there, begged to differ. And so did the cut you’d freshly mended with that fish hook. “At the boathouse,” you added quietly.

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait – that never happened before? Like, no accidental flambés? You just set a jock on fire for the first time?”

You nodded, and Eddie let out a little chuckle. “Good. Else I would’ve been a bit pissed that you didn’t burn down the school before O’Donnell’s midterm projects were due to buy more time.”

The way he drawled out the words made your smile widen, before another thought fought itself to the forefront of your mind and the smile slipped. “If they know I let him in…are they –“

“Mad? Shit, no. No, they’re scared out of their mind for you. They’re mad at that fucker, but not at you.”

The relief which flooded you at Eddie’s words was so overwhelming that it robbed your words as you gave him a nod, swallowing back a fresh wave of tears – and with a timid little smile, Eddie tilted his head. “So, uh. Should I start calling you Firestarter now? Is that –“

“No! No. I’m…I’m your- I’m monster slayer.”

There was relief and something else flashing in Eddie’s eyes as they flitted down to your lips now, lingering there for long enough to dissipate any doubt that you were imagining it. It made the butterflies in your chest go haywire.

And for a split second…there was this wild, desperately hopeful feeling that he’d kiss you.

Just like he’d done at Skull Rock.

It was hovering in the air between you, the memory of this stolen, fleeting kiss in the veil of night and the woods, the ghost of it still prickling on your lips to make you wonder if it felt the same for him.

There was this draw pulling you towards Eddie; a light-filled, beautiful twin to the dark and twisted urge to go through the gate…a gravity keeping you close to him like a comet in its orbit around the sun so it wouldn’t get lost in space.

He didn’t kiss you.

Instead, his expression grew serious once more before he announced quietly, “If, uh – if we wanna figure this shit out…you need to tell me what he showed you. In every trance. Every…every dream. What he said. Things that could be important. How exactly he got you to…open the door.”

“What did Nance tell you already? About…about Starcourt.”

“Everything,” Eddie said gently.

You nodded, swallowing as your gaze locked on the faded pattern of flowers on the bedsheets. “At first, there were just the nightmares. Then came the headaches. Nosebleeds. And then…the hallucinations started.” You paused, mind going back to the first time it had happened. “At first, they were…I don’t know. Contained. I would look into a mirror, and he’d be there. In my…in my eyes. Black creepers underneath my skin. And then that night last November, when we…” You trailed off, heat flaring in your cheeks. “There was this door. With a window of stained glass. A bouquet of red roses.”

Eddie’s eyes were wide – and you could see his thoughts racing, trying to connect the dots to answer all the questions you’d left him with that night.

In the past days since Eddie had been forced on the run, neither of you had broached the subject, both of you dancing around the matter – and it had been easy not to come too close. Because Eddie had been too timid, and probably too hurt and scared. And you hadn’t dared.

But now that everything else was out in the open, and only that fateful night left to discuss…the situation had shifted. You weren’t dancing on solid ground anymore; you were dancing over a tightrope. And beneath, a glaring abyss. You couldn’t give him hope.

And you still hadn’t told Eddie that he carried Vecna’s mark, as well. That Vecna wanted him dead because of you and now, after everything, there was no doubt Eddie would stay. Which mean he would walk into certain death. And that was what you needed to prevent. If only you knew how.

You waited for him to broach the subject, to start asking questions about that night you weren’t yet ready to answer as long as you hadn’t figured out a way to keep him out of Vecna’s clawed grasp – but Eddie didn’t. He was giving you time, always so considerate when asking questions would have been his every right after all the things you’d spat at him that night.

Once again, your heart squeezed in your chest as you held his gaze.

“I didn’t know it was the front door of Creel house. I only realized it when I saw it in Max’s painting, back at Skull Rock yesterday.”

“What else did you see?”, Eddie asked cautiously.

I saw you die. Eaten alive by a swarm of monstrous bats long before I knew these things even existed.

“There was someone behind that door. A disfigured hand…A claw. The thing wanted to be let in. And then, there was this…this pull.” A shudder ran through you, the pulse of the gate beyond the bedroom door laced with yours, like a second heartbeat hammering in your ears alongside your own. Like the yank of a leash. “It – he wanted me to open the door. I didn’t. And ever since that night, I’ve seen this door. Every night. In every dream. Until I opened it.”

“Why? What changed?”

You finally glanced back up at him.

You. He used you to trick me. Put you behind that door and made you scream for help because he knew I’d do everything for you. Everything.

“There was someone else behind that door. Screaming for help.”

“Who?”

“You.” You fiddled with the corner of the bedsheets. “I didn’t think. I just ran and opened it and when I woke up, I thought it had just been another nightmare.”

“They never stopped.”

“No,” you breathed. “After…” After that November night when I broke both our hearts. “They got worse.”

There was the softest rustle of leather when Eddie shuffled closer, and his fingers gently laced with yours again on the faded bedsheets – cautiously, giving you the chance to pull away.

“Is that…is that okay?”, he asked, and you gave him a soft nod.

“Yeah.”

It was more than okay. The touch made your skin tingle and sent sparks zapping along your nerves while your eyes flew open to meet Eddie’s.

For a few beautiful moments, you stayed like this, your hands entwined on the sheets, gazing at each other with this flurry of unspoken words in the space between you, your heart racing in your chest with such fervor that you were sure it would leap out of your chest and right into Eddie’s palm.

He still looked at you like this. Like you were the only thing that mattered. Like the world around him blurred when he was with you, just like yours did when you were with him.

There was something timid in the way he watched you now, something anxious in his eyes as he took a breath, opened his mouth –

With a resounding bang, the door flew open, making both of you start as Eddie let go of your hand and whirled around to the door as your head snapped up, but before you could get a single word out, you were tackled into a ferocious embrace that nearly knocked you off Eddie’s bed.

“You’re awake,” Nancy whispered, her hug squeezing the air out of you, her curls tickling your nose, “You’re alive.”

“Not much longer,” Robin’s voice chimed up somewhere from the door, “If you keep throttling her like that, Nance.”

A second pair of arms wrapped around you as Robin plopped down on the bed beside you to join the hug, and over Nancy’s shoulder, your gaze locked on Eddie, who’d scooted to the edge of the mattress to make room for your friends to squeeze in beside you.

Robin was the first one to let go.

“How do you feel?”, she asked, letting herself fall backwards and bumping into Eddie behind her in the process, “Like, do you feel like setting something on fire again? Because the one fire extinguisher we had is empty now so I guess if you set this trailer on fire, there’s nothing we can do.”

“It’s not like there’s a goddamn gate to another dimension in my living room already,” Eddie deadpanned, “But if you do, gimme a shoutout first so I can save my guitars.”

“By the way, the kids are still at the Mayfield’s trailer,” a third voice sounded from the doorway, and you met Steve’s relieved grin, “Fast asleep, and Lucas is watching out for Max so we got a while before Henderson realizes we’re making theories without –“

“You’re discussing stuff without me?!”, a voice chimed up from the door while Dustin squeezed himself past Steve through the door, before his blue eyes met yours and a relieved smile won over the annoyance as he said, “We thought we were losing you.”

The way he said it made fierce, protective affection for the boy warm your heart.

It was easy to forget that, when Will and Barb had gone missing three years ago and everything had started, Dustin and the rest of the party had been kids. Middle schoolers. And while Nancy and you had at least been teens at the time, Vecna had robbed Dustin, Will and the rest of them of a part of their childhood. When they should have stayed up all night playing D&D and telling each other horror stories, they’d been sucked into a deadly game with actual monsters and real deaths.

“Come here,” you smiled, patting the mattress between you and Eddie, “We could use your genius, Henderson.”

“At least one of you appreciates my skills,” the boy grinned with a glance at Steve, who muttered, “Yeah, feed his ego, will you.”

“Steve, not to be rude but we all know that I’m the brain of this party. And you’re the –“

“Dick,” Eddie finished with a nod, earning a glower from Steve and a snicker from Robin as you contemplated, “I’d say he’s the hair.”

“Fist,” Dustin grinned, plopping down on the mattress between Eddie and you, “I wanted to say fist.”

“To be the fist,” Robin crooned, “You’ll have to have won at least one fight.”

“Ha! I did!”, Steve called out, pointing at Robin, “I knocked out that Russian last year.” His gaze briefly flitted to Nancy, who’d been watching the banter with quiet amusement, and a soft smile curved her lips when her gaze met Steve’s, before she noticed you watching her and quickly glanced away again.

“There. I’m the fist”, Steve nodded.

“They drugged us about five seconds afterwards.”

“It doesn’t matter, Robin. I knocked him out cold. I won the fight.”

“And lost a tooth.”

“What’s that smell?”, Dustin asked, wrinkling his nose.

“That’s me,” Eddie said drily.

“You stink.”

“Yeah? I’ve been hunted by a mob, plunged into a cold lake two times, ran for my life, got trapped in another dimension which’s gate is eating my goddamn living room ceiling, and I nearly got burned into a crisp; all in a single night. If I stink, Henderson,” Eddie said good-naturedly, giving the boy a playful slap on the back of his head, “It’s my goddamn right.”

Dustin snickered, righting his cap again as he turned his head to give you one of his wide, infectious Dustin-Henderson-grins. “You should have seen him play. It was metal. Right in the middle of a fucking –“

“Language!”, Steve interjected with the mild annoyance of an overworked dad over the dinner table before he gave Eddie another glower. “He got that from you. You’re teaching him swear words, man. Not cool.”

Eddie opened his mouth for a clapback, but was cut off by Dustin who added, “There was fire everywhere. And Eddie just kept playing and singing while you were pulled to the ceiling and it was scary. So metal.”

The gleam in the boy’s blue eyes made you smile and Steve’s expression turned a little gloomy while Eddie’s gaze met yours, a slight blush creeping over his cheeks beneath the soot and bruises, just as Dustin added, “And Eddie told you –“

“That’s enough, big boy,” Eddie interjected with a playful shove against Dustin’s shoulder that wouldn’t match the pained expression in Eddie’s face, just as Nancy cleared her throat, making you start a little, before you noticed the look passing between Nancy and Robin.

“Told me what?”

“You should really drink something,” Eddie said, grabbing the still unopened bottle of Yoo-Hoo he’d discarded on the mattress, and you took it with a flinch.

“Ew, Yoo-Hoo?” Robin scrunched her nose. “That stuff tastes horrible. Like, that’s not even real chocolate in there. The girl just got Vecna’d, cut her some slack before making her drink that. I mean, who even puts chocolate into water? It’s gross.”

“Thank you!”, you exclaimed.

Eddie gave Robin an incredulous stare. “You all really lack taste.”

Steve tilted his head. “Can I get a bottle of that as w-“

“No,” Eddie quipped.

“Wow. Your customer service sucks. Now I know why you sell drugs instead of ice cream,” Steve deadpanned, and Eddie threw him a before he drawled, “We can’t all hop around in little sailor’s hats, Harrington.”

“Aw, don’t worry dingus, nobody wore it better,” Robin chimed in.

Steve gave her an exaggerated glare. “You, too, Robin? Seriously?”

“It was a very cute little hat,” Dustin grinned.

“Thank you, Henderson,” Steve quipped.

And with warmth in your heart, you realized what they were doing.

That this easy banter was their way of telling you it was okay.

There was a sudden lump in your throat.

They all looked so tired. Soot was smeared all over their faces and clothes, telling you in those six hours when you’d been knocked out, neither of them had had a chance or the mood to clean themselves up as they waited for you to wake, and Steve was still clad in only his pants and Eddie’s denim vest, the bandages wrapped around his abdomen smeared with grime and stained with blood seeping through the fabric.

“What happened in the Upside Down?”, you asked quietly, nodding at the makeshift-bandages.

“Bats,” Steve replied darkly.

And your heart ceased its next beat, your blood freezing in your veins.

“Obviously not normal bats, but killer bats. Upside Down bats.”

“Demobats,” Dustin corrected.

“These little bitches ripped a few pounds of flesh out of me while trying to strangle me to death but we got rid of them.”

“They’re guarding the gates,” Nancy added, “That’s why we were stuck there for a while. We couldn’t go back through –“

“Thought Watergate.”

“Through Watergate, yes.”

Their voices blurred into static, drowned out by the thundering of your heart in your own ears; too fast, to forceful, too loud.

They were real.

Not just some creatures from a nightmare used to terrorize you.

The voices of your friends slipped away, far away, as the memories of four months of nightmares returned full-force, of all the things you’d seen on the roof that November night. The images that had made you break Eddie’s heart.

Wings and talons and teeth pouncing down from the bleeding crimson skies, their shrieks filling the air like a chorus of distorted voices as it mingled with another scream, filled with agony and so horribly, horribly familiar because it was Eddie’s scream, from amidst the storm of these monstrous creatures.

These creatures were real. They existed in this dark mirror place, outside of the realm of your nightmares and hallucinations…and Eddie had met them already. Had fought them…

Too close. He’d gotten far too close already, like Icarus to the sun, the first blazing rays already burning away the tips of his wings.

“Hey,” Eddie’s voice made you snap out of your thoughts, your eyes locking on his in a wave of fresh panic.

He’d left his spot on the bed to kneel in front of you on the carpet, slowly taking the bottle of Yoo-Hoo from you to place it on the ground beside him as his eyes held yours, and Nancy’s arm wrapped around your shoulder.

Eddie needed to go. Far, far away from Hawkins, and from you.

You opened your mouth, but before you could voice all these things, Robin said, “Wait, what are we calling him now, by the way? Vecna? Henry? One? The Mind Flayer?”

“Henry,” Nancy stated just as Dustin and Eddie replied, “Vecna.”

“We’re going to call him Henry”, Nancy said, “Because that’s his name. He’s still human.”

“Ish,” Robin added.

“I’m not so sure,” you whispered, the image of Vecna’s rotting flesh, his spidery, disfigured claws reaching for you engraved in your mind. “He didn’t look human anymore. Not like a living person.”

Nancy bit her lip. “Calling him anything else will only make us fear him more.”

“I dunno about you,” Eddie deadpanned, “But the evil eldritch undead being from a parallel dimension with the power to kill people in their dreams as he sees fit doesn’t exactly, um. Lose its thrill just because the dude’s name is Henry.”

“Thank you for the input, Kate Bush,” Steve quipped, earning another cheeky smirk from Eddie as he nodded at the flash of Steve’s bare chest peeking out from beneath the denim vest while he quipped, “Is there a reason you still look like the love child of a Chippendale and a final girl, Harrington?”

The look passing between the two of them had lost its edge though, the bickering having simmered down to something akin of a good-natured banter that made you wonder what had happened to melt the ice which had frozen the air between Eddie and Steve only hours ago. You guessed running from monsters together did work actual miracles even on the most strained of relationships.

“That’s rich coming from the guy who looks like the chimney sweeper from Mary Poppins,” Steve quipped with an answering nod Eddie’s ash-smeared face, the soot darkening the fabric of his Hellfire shirt beneath the leather jacket, the scattering of ashes and residual spores from the Upside Down still caught in his messy curls.

“Guys, we need to focus,” Nancy interrupted.

“She’s right,” you said quietly, fidgeting with a loose thread in Eddie’s worn-out bedsheets. “Time’s running out.”

Eddie’s time.

“That’s the positive spin I was hoping for,” Steve quipped.

“Tell us,” Robin said softly. “”hat happened with the door you opened, I mean. What Vecna showed you.”

And with a steadying breath, you told them what you’d told Eddie.

About the nightmares, how Vecna had tricked you to open the door with the stained-glass roses to save Eddie. About the draw to the gates, the Upside Down calling out for you and this dark wish to heed its call.

You told them of the house on the Hill and the little boy who’d been Henry Creel, of the horrors beyond the door with the stained-glass roses, of Vecna’s collection of tortured souls and everything he’d shown you; little Henry’s past and the slaughter of his family. How Brenner had found him and the birth of Hawkins lab, of the massacre and brave little El, banishing Henry to the place now known as the Upside Down; the way this mirror realm had warped and twisted his body until his appearance matched the rot in his heart.

“And they were…they were all there?”, Robin whispered when you’d finished, breaking the rattled silence which had settled over Eddie’s bedroom. “Like, their souls?”

You swallowed, eyes closed as you gave a curt nod. “Yeah. Their souls, their consciousness…whatever you may call it. As mutilated as their…their bodies.”

“How many times did the clock in the sky chime?”, Dustin inquired.

It took a moment for you to realize Dustin’s question had been addressed at you, and another few seconds to retract the events in your mind before you whispered, “Four.”

“Are you sure?”

“I won’t forget a single second of this nightmare, Dustin. Four chimes.”

“Why is that even important?”, Steve questioned. “We know that creep has a weird relationship to clocks. Did he, by any chance, tell you why?”

“It scares him. Time scares him, I think.”

Your eyes found Eddie’s. He was sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of the bed, fidgeting with the little chain on the sleeve of his leather-jacket as he watched you. The expression in his umber eyes had dimmed, the smile which had played on his lips faded. He was watching you closely, the concern for you shining in his eyes overwhelming in its intensity.

“Four times,” Dustin echoed. “Max counted four chimes as well.”

“Four chimes make an hour,” Nancy contemplated.

“But what happens then?”, Robin pressed, panic making her voice tremble. “Do we know what happens after the fourth chime? Like, is he telling us that time’s running out?”

“The glass of the clock burst at the fourth chime,” you added quietly, your gaze firmly locked with Eddie’s. Your tether. The lighthouse’s guiding beam amidst the storm.

“What else did he show you?”, Robin pressed.

“Monsters. Spilling into Hawkins. An army of them.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie breathed, his voice shaking as hard as the hand he rubbed over his face, wincing as he grazed the freshly mended gash on his eyebrow, “Jesus H –“

“The gates,” Nancy breathed. “We know he’s killing people to open the gates. But why does he need more gates?”

“To send more…to send more monsters,” Robin guessed. “Through the gates. So Eleven can’t lock him out again.”

Eddie was still raking a trembling hand through his hair, sending a soft flurry of ashes and spores falling from his dark curls to the carpet as he shook his head, muted with his panic.

And he didn’t even know yet that Vecna was personally targeting him.

“But to get a whole army of monsters into Hawkins, he’ll need a lot of gates,” Steve assessed from his place by the window. “Like, a lot –“

“Fuck.”

All eyes locked on Dustin, who’d jumped up from the bed. His gaze was frantic as he breathed, “What if that’s what it is. He wants to attack but one gate isn’t enough, and that’s why he needs four gates. And if one killing opens one gate…”

“He’s one killing away from achieving his goal,” Nancy finished darkly.

“No. Four is still not enough,” Steve protested, “For a whole monster creepy-crawly army –“

“No,” Dustin called out, wringing his hands as if he were about to strangle you all with his frustration, “LISTEN to me, for fuck’s sake.”

“Dude,” Steve muttered. “We are listening. You’re just not making sense –“

“Jenga,” Dustin cut him off, nearly shouting the word.

“Game night,” Robin quipped. “I don’t think we got time for that, Henderson. Though I’m more of a Monopoly kind of –“

“JENGA! IT’S LIKE JENGA!”

There was a beat of silence as all of you stared at Dustin, who’d started to pace frantically.

“Okay, big boy,” Eddie said, “Maybe you, uh, should –“

“The tower. The – there is a wall between worlds,” Dustin interrupted, waving his hands, “Picture it like a Jenga tower. You pull away one block, and the tower still stands. You pull away two, it might start swaying a little but it still stands. You –“

“Holy shit,” Steve breathed.

“You pull away four,” Nancy said quietly. “And the tower collapses.”

“He’s been telling us his plan all along. We just never listened closely enough.”

“The earthquake,” you breathed.

“There have been more when we were in the Upside Down. Two more. Makes three earthquakes in total.”

“When the barrier between dimensions is gone, he won’t need any more gates. When there’s no wall, you don’t need to open doors to get on the other side. And when he kills his fourth victim, opens the fourth gate, it will make the Jenga tower – it will make the wall between dimensions collapse,” Dustin went on.

“Jesus fucking Christ –“ Eddie breathed, burying his face in his hands.

You waited for the realization to hit you like a punch to the gut, for terror to grip you – but you were only tired. So incredibly tired of fighting and panicking. And even with everything at stake, nothing could compare to the horror of losing Eddie. Of Vecna making true of his threat. His promise.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Nancy said as Dustin plopped down on the rug beside Eddie. “We need to kill Vecna before he can kill his fourth victim. Go back to the Upside Down –“

“No,” Eddie said vehemently, “Nope. No way.”

“We don’t even know if we can kill him,” Dustin threw in. “And before we can come up with a plan –“

“We need to figure out what’s wrong with me,” you said quietly, your voice as dark as the feeling in your chest.

“I wouldn’t have put it that way, but yeah,�� Robin agreed.

At the sound of your voice, Eddie let his hands fall away from his face, glancing up at you as your friends started talking, all at once, their chorus of voices too loud as it mixed with the threat of Vecna’s voice playing in your head on repeat, a broken record.

I’ll take your songbird.

It was too much. Too much to grasp, and before you did anything else, you needed to get Eddie away, somewhere far away where not even Vecna could ever find him, and you needed to talk to Eddie alone to tell him that, make him understand –

“Stop!”, Eddie’s sudden voice rose over the noise, effectively cutting them off as all pairs of eyes locked on him, all of them surprised by his sudden vehemence save for Dustin.

“That’s not how you plan things,” he said. “Not at all. It’s chaos.”

Steve let his gaze roam over the mess in Eddie’s room, the assortment of clothes and music tapes and paper full of scrawled chords and doodles and books strewn over every surface, before he assessed, “Talk about chaos.”

Eddie rose to his feet, fierce determination replacing the utter terror which had been reigning over his expression in the past few minutes, the change like a light switch being flipped when he shifted into Dungeon Master mode.

“We can’t come up with a plan to defeat him if we still don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Steve scoffed. “We do know. The dude is a psychopathic maniac with superpowers who wants world dominion after a little girl whipped his ass and banished him.”

“And what then, Harrington?,” Eddie drawled darkly, “Punch him in the face? As far as I heard, you couldn’t even do that with Billy Hargrove. What do you wanna do, send the little redhead in to sedate Vecna?”

“Shoot him,” Nancy said, her voice dark and even.

Eddie raked a hand through his curls – in exasperation this time, instead of panic.

Robin huffed. “I’m equally amazed and scared that your solution for every problem is a shotgun, Nance. And deeply impressed. But in this case, I’d like to hear what Eddie has to say.”

“While going in back in there to try and kill him right away might be noble and heroic,” Eddie assessed with a wave at the gate casting its eerie glow through his open bedroom door, “It’s stupid as Hell. There are moments for heroism. This one’s not one of them. There are too many questions we need to answer first.”

“Dude, this isn’t a game of D&D,” Steve muttered.

Eddie tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “I am aware, Steve.” He drawled out the name in this lilting way he sometimes spoke with, before he added, “Because if you die at the D&D table, you’ll be gone for the rest of the campaign. If you die at Vecna’s gaming table, you’ll be gone forever. So if you plan ahead during a game of D&D, shouldn’t you do the same thing when your actual life is at stake?”

“He’s right,” Dustin said, and Robin nodded in vehement agreement.

When Eddie looked at you, there was a flash of determination in his gaze, a quiet understanding passing between the two of you.

Together. As a team.

Without another word, Eddie grabbed something from his nightstand before he plopped down on the carpet in front of you again, placing the thing on the rug.

It was a black notebook.

“What’s that?”, Steve inquired, sounding a little suspicious.

Not batting an eye, Eddie replied, “Oh, just. You know. My satanic bible.”

There was a beat of silence before you snickered, and the sound put the widest beam on Eddie’s lips to make your heart soar in your chest, as the two of you stared at each other – until the moment was broken by Dustin’s giggle and the sound of Steve clearing his throat. Eddie opened the notebook and started to flip through the pages.

They were filled with notes and doodles, with the most intricate drawings of monsters and dice as Dustin let out an ecstatic squeal before he jumped off the bed to sit beside Eddie, the marvel in the boy’s eyes that of a child at Christmas morning.

“That’s your campaign notebook,” you breathed.

“He never lets anyone see his campaign notebook,” Dustin breathed in awe, reaching out to touch the booklet, but Eddie gently swatted his hand away.

“Only for Dungeon Masters,” he admonished half-heartedly as he kept flipping through the pages, “You’re not a Dungeon Master, Henderson.”

“Hurry up, man,” Steve muttered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he threw Eddie’s back an annoyed glance, “We don’t have all night.”

Eddie stopped at an empty page, ringed hand smoothing out the page before he grabbed the pen clipped to the back cover.

“You might be the slayer of monsters,” Eddie drawled with a grin up at you, drawing out the words to a musical lilt, “But I’m used to making them dance like little puppets on my strings.” He wiggled the fingers of his free hand in the air before he glanced back down at the page. “Okay, so. Uh, we got your superpowers, obviously.”

The pen flew over the page as Eddie doodled a little flame into the left corner.

“Then we got Vecna slash the Mind Flayer slash – yeah, you know.”

“Henry,” Nancy corrected pointedly.

“Henry,” Eddie echoed with a nod.

Silence fell over the group, filled only by the soft scratch of the pen on the paper, the persistent call of the gate only you could hear, its force weakened as you watched Eddie.

With growing fascination, you watched the movement of his hand while he guided the pen across the page with skilled, quick strokes, the rings on his hand glinting to trigger the memory of how it had felt, the brush of their smooth metal on your skin when Eddie’s calloused hands had wandered over your body, sending you into ecstasy.

Even with the exhaustion carving shadows underneath his eyes, the bruises nearly as black as the soot still smeared across his pale features, Eddie was beautiful. One of his hands shot up to card fingers through the curls of his bangs falling into his face, the little chain on his leather jacket’s sleeve tinkling softly with the motion, and while he kept drawing with his other hand, he poked out his tongue like he always did when he focused on something. It was so him, that the surge of love flooding you momentarily stole your breath away.

“Henry…and the Upside Down” Eddie muttered, ripping you from your silent reverie, and your eyes quickly flitted down to the finished doodle of a crowned skull, looking more like the design for an actual tattoo than a quick doodle. He was truly skilled.

His head lifted as he glanced up at you, a soft smile playing on his lips when he said, “And we got you.” He added a little sword in the opposite corner of the page. It made you smile.

“Since when did you know you could do the fire-thing, by the way?”, Robin interjected.

“Since yesterday.”

“When you burned down the townhall?”

“Nope. When I burned down the boathouse.”

“Actually,” Eddie grinned, “She didn’t burn down the boathouse, she set Chance on fire.”

“Dude,” Steve commented.

“You’re a superhero,” Dustin exclaimed. “Like El.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s pretty fucking awesome,” Robin smirked, “To set fire with your mind. On our next movie night, we could make smores without ever having to make a fire.”

“There won’t be any next movie night,” Steve said grimly, “If we don’t hurry.”

“Can you move objects as well? Like El?”, Dustin asked, excitement widening his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I can’t. It’s only fire, as far as I can tell.”

“If you only know since yesterday, maybe you can do more.”

“I’m sure I can’t.”

“Dustin’s got a point,” Nancy said, “If you’ve only known since yesterday –“

“I’m not like El, okay?!” They fell quiet, watching you as you took a deep breath, before you repeated, calmer this time, “I’m not like El. I don’t know where this is coming from but I know I’m not like El.”

“Henry is like El,” Nancy mused.

“But what do we even know about superpowers?”, Robin inquired, narrowing her eyes on the doodles in Eddie’s notebook. He was tapping the pen against the page, chewing his bottom lip as he narrowed his eyes on the drawing of the flame. You could basically see the wheels churning in his mind.

“We know El has been born with her powers,” Dustin said. “And so has Henry.”

“So does it work, like, I dunno, the Force?”, Eddie wondered, giving Dustin a thoughtful glance.

“What’s the Force? What’s he talking about?”

Robin groaned. “Steve! Star Wars?”

“Dude, how are you even working at a video store?”, Eddie wondered, throwing Steve a glance over his shoulder.

“It’s honest work,” Steve quipped, “Opposed to selling drugs.”

“It’s not that honest if you keep recommending movies you haven’t even watched,” Eddie retorted with a drawl.

“It’s the one with the teddy bears,” Robin groaned, and Steve’s face lit up as he nodded in recognition.

Nancy sighed. “Can we focus?”

“The ability to control the Force,” Eddie said slowly, as if talking to a child, “Is something you’re born with.”

“And since El and Henry have been born with their powers, and we don’t know anyone who somehow acquired them,” Nancy deduced, “It’s safe to assume you were born with them.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you think I would have known sooner if I was?”

“Maybe you didn’t notice,” Eddie wondered.

“I’m pretty sure I would have noticed things randomly going up in flames around me.”

“Okay, then…what triggered it?”, Dustin wanted to know, leaning forward.

“Panic.” For Eddie. It had always been your panic for Eddie to trigger this strange power.

Robin snorted. “It’s safe to say you weren’t born with it, then. I guess in those three years of Upside Down business, you’d have noticed if your panic had set something on fire.”

“We could put it to the test,” Dustin proposed.

Steve scoffed. “Okay so what, we’ll just, like, hold her at gun point? Is that your plan, Henderson? That won’t work. She knows we’d never hurt her.”

“It was never panic for myself,” you corrected quietly, cheeks burning. “The first time, it was when Jason and his friends locked me up at the townhall after they found out about Eddie hiding at Rick’s. The second time was at the boathouse, when they…when Jason wanted to hurt Eddie. And the third was in my trance.”

“What did he show you?”, Robin asked quietly.

There it was again, this horrible image which had burned itself into your mind like the letters set into a tombstone, the newest addition to your own collection of horrors. Eddie’s eyes, the white of freshly fallen snow, tears of blood running down his cheeks.

“Eddie’s death,” you whispered.

There was a beat of silence, before Steve quipped, “Wait, so we’re gonna need to hold Eddie at gun point? Because yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay, we’ll – stop. Nobody is going to be held at gunpoint,” Nancy interjected, earning her a raised eyebrow from Robin who commented, “Says Miss Gunpoint.”

“You held me at gunpoint,” Steve protested with a flirtatious little smirk at Nancy, “But you won’t hold him at gunpoint?”

“You were acting like a jerk,” Nancy replied softly, the barely suppressed smile on her lips as telling as the beet-red blush on her cheeks before Robin interjected, “Have you seen Eddie’s huge brown doe eyes? We can’t hold him at gunpoint even if we wanted to. That would be like threatening Bambi.”

You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Eddie, whose eyes were wide as he stared at you, their intensity making your skin prickle, a flurry of unspoken questions swirling in the umber of his eyes alongside all the emotions shining there – but the moment was broken when Dustin called out, “Will! Will got powers”, making Eddie start a little with the sudden exclamation.

“He can feel the Mind Flayer. Vecna.”

“Henry.”

“The point is,” Dustin went on, ignoring Nancy, “He can feel him.”

“That’s a connection, not a superpower,” Nancy protested. “It can be used as a superpower, but it definitely doesn’t count as one.”

“’kay, let’s focus on connections then,” Eddie said slowly, before his gaze met yours and his voice took on a gentle hue. “Do you still feel it?” It was a softspoken question, his tone timid as if he were worried to distress you. “The gate, I mean.”

You gave him a slow nod, before you whispered, “All the time.”

You could feel Dustin’s blue eyes on you as he inquired, “What does it feel like?”

“Alive.”

Eddie furrowed his brow, tilting his head as he waited for you to go on.

“It’s…it’s like a heartbeat. Not the gate in itself, it’s more…it’s more where it leads.”

“The Upside Down.”

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence as Eddie nodded, and you went on, “As far as I can tell, Will never wanted to go back to that place.”

“He didn’t,” Dustin agreed. “He was scared of it.”

“I don’t think speculation will lead us anywhere,” Nancy groaned.

Robin patted her back. “We’re in the brainstorming phase.”

“We’ll never move out of the brainstorming phase at this rate,” Steve quipped. “We’ll be stuck in the brainstorming phase when Vec- Henry sends his monsters.”

“No, sorry. I can’t do that,” Robin muttered, “I can’t call this guy Henry. It’s…he’s Vecna now. I’m going to call him Vecna.

Dustin glanced up at you. “Do you have any idea why Vecna needed you to open the door?”

“I didn’t even know I was opening a door for Vecna when I did it,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know.”

“But why?”, Dustin wondered, “Why did he need someone to open the door, and why did he choose you?”

“He chose me because El and Will were already too far away, in Lenora. He said it himself. And I guess he needed someone who at least had a connection to him. And since I was…I was flayed…”

“Your connection to him is the same as Will’s,” Dustin said.

You nodded.

“I’m confused,” Steve announced.

“You always are,” Dustin retorted.

“I get that he needs an open gate to come into our Hawkins,” Steve said, giving Dustin an indignant glower, “But – physical gates. What did you open? Where?”

“That’s actually a good question, dingus.”

“Thank you, Robin,” Steve retorted indignantly. “I’m just saying, why did he even manage to target you in the first place, because I was pretty sure as long as he was locked on the other side, he was powerless.”

There was a beat of silence before Dustin muttered, “Shit. I never thought about that.”

“What else did he tell you, monster slayer?”, Eddie asked softly, tilting his head a little as he caught your gaze.

It was only then that you noticed what had escaped you before, because you’d hardly ever been anything but alone with Eddie. But now that the others were around for longer, you realized that, while he was charming and kind and sweet with everyone, this special kind of softness in his voice, his eyes…it was meant for only you.

You closed your eyes.

“When I’m done with you, when I have taken back what is mine, what you stole from me – I will take your songbird.”

Your blood froze with the realization of the glaringly obvious variable which had slipped your notice.

“Little Thief,” you whispered, realization barreling through you with such force that you jolted from the bed as it hit you. You needed to move. “Oh my god. He kept calling me Little Thief. He said I stole something from him.”

“Stole,” Eddie repeated slowly.

“I thought he meant his victory. We all stole his victory from him. We stopped him, and I thought he was angry with me because he was angry with all of us but…” You trailed off, pressing the heels of your hands over your eyes, watching the pattern of tiny white dots dance through the darkness of your closed eyes as your mind was going a mile a minute.

“What if he meant something else?”, you whispered, eyes flying open to look at Eddie.

You could feel it, passing like a spark; the idea flashing in Eddie eyes as he froze mid movement when realization hit you like a truck, the final missing piece of the puzzle falling into place.

“You stole something from me. Something valuable. And before I take it back…I’ll steal the most precious thing from you, little thief.”

“The most precious thing,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a susurration in the air as you echoed Vecna’s words, “He told me I stole the most precious thing from him.”

“Monster slayer,” Eddie’s soft voice made your head snap up. He’d risen from his spot on the ground, standing in front of you now as his umber eyes scanned your face, his dark curls standing on edge from all of his nervous raking-through them, his eyes wide, realization taking root in his mind. He looked breathless, as if he’d run a marathon. “What you said to me earlier. About something…something staying behind. Do you remember the moment he left, last summer?”

[Thursday, July 4th, 1985. THEN. THE BATTLE OF STARCOURT.]

The world had descended into flames and agony, the heat on your skin unbearable, the cacophony of voices blurring around you as you screamed, as this thing inside your head screamed.

All you wanted was for it to stop. Stop stop stop stop STOP “STOP STOP STOP STOP STOOOOOP!”

“Higher.”

“It’s killing her!”

“That means it’s working.” The boy’s voice was barely audible over the noise of your tormented, broken screams.

“LET GO! LET ME GO! LETMEGOOOO!”

“Scratch out their eyes,” The thing in your head commanded. “Tear the skin from their bones, rip out their hearts –“

There were horrible images in your head.

NO.

And something happened.

The creepers around your mind…they started to loosen.

Their chokehold around that dying spark that was left of you was fading as if these vines of shadow were hurting.

As the heat was burning it away.

Scorching it, melting it.

And that ember which was left of you flared to life with hatred for this writhing, creeping shadow which had locked you up in your own mind and had forced you to do its evil bidding.

It had taken something from you. Something you would never get back.

Now it was your turn to take something in return.

There was a girl’s angry scream lacing with your own in the scorching air as an invisible force ripped the darkness out of you – and you lashed out at this vile, dark shadow in your head, making it screech and hiss and writhe in your mind’s grip.

You wanted to hurt it like it had hurt you, tearing and ripping at it as it was forced out of you, black mist rising from your lips as the contorted scream of this thing turned into your own.

The pillar of black smoke bursting from your lips and into the air with a shrill noise, like nails on a chalkboard, burned itself into your memory as someone loosened the ropes around your wrists, a pair of arms pulling you backwards, and a familiar voice soothed, strained with the sob she was holding back, “We got you. It’s gone. He’s gone – right?”

“Yes,” El replied, the back of her hand swiping at the blood which was drip-dropping from her nose. “Gone.”

And this time when the darkness crept in at the edges, it was a peaceful one.

Of exhaustion and relief, as your quiet sobs stole your voice, and the darkness stole your sobs.

Yes, the monster was gone.

But it had left something behind, something you’d ripped away from it.

A sliver of a shadow, a dark fingerprint on your soul. A stain, black like tar, soaking through the fabric of your very essence.

Spreading.

[Monday, March 25th, 1986. NOW.]

It crashed over you like an icy wave, knocking you off your feet and making you sink to the floor, slowly, as Eddie’s hands shot out to grasp your elbows, holding you as he slowly knelt in front of you.

The memory had been buried underneath all the pain of this moment, a thousand razor-sharp blades ripping your body and mind to shreds as they’d burned the black smoke out of you.

As you’d lashed out at this twisted, evil thing in fury and hatred.

Something had stayed behind.

You did this to yourself, Vecna had said. Because you had.

“I wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me,” you whispered, eyes locked on Eddie’s, concern and bewildered realization brimming in them. “When he left, I…I think I lashed out. And something…ripped away. From him.”

“Holy. Fucking. Shit,” Robin’s whisper filled the stunned silence.

And with this one missing piece, the whole puzzle came together, all the lose pieces falling into place.

“You stole some of his powers,” Eddie breathed, an incredulous laugh bubbling from his lips, “Jesus Christ, you stole some of his goddamn powers, monster slayer. That’s the most badass shit ever.”

“And when I’m done with you, taken back what is mine – I’ll take your songbird.”

Vecna’s words, playing on repeat in your head, drowning out the chaos which had erupted at the realization, your friends talking all at once, their words blurring to background noise.

“Hey, you okay?”, Eddie murmured, the smile slipping at the sight of whatever it was that was shining in your eyes.

No. Things were as far from okay as they could get.

Misinterpreting your terror for being overwhelmed, Eddie shouted, “Stop!” – and to your surprise, the others obliged again, the havoc dying down at once to make room for another crestfallen silence.

“That’s why I can feel the gates,” you breathed. “That’s why part of me wants to go there.”

Amidst all the panic, there was a wave of temporary relief flooding you, because…there wasn’t something fundamentally wrong with you. This part of you that wanted to go to the Upside Down, that purred at the sensation of the dark pulse of the gates thrumming through your blood, this homesickness you were feeling for this horrible mirror realm…this, at least, wasn’t you…was it? Did it belong to you now?

“What does that mean about the gates?”, Dustin blurted, and Eddie stretched to grab his notebook from where he’d discarded it on the floor, the hem of his Hellfire shirt riding up to expose a sliver of his stomach, revealing a glimpse at the path of his happy trail dipping below the waistband of his ripped jeans –

Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with you.

At least the tug in your chest at the brief glimpse of Eddie’s happy trail wasn’t whatever part you’d ripped away from Vecna’s power but your own damn mind.

Silver linings.

You rose on shaky legs to place yourself back on the mattress, between Robin and Nance, watching as Eddie grabbed the pen Dustin extended for him.

“’kay, let’s sum this up. Monster slayer stole a part of Vecna’s power –“ he connected the doodle of the flame with Vecna’s skull, and then your sword, “Which means that part of his power is the bridge between you and him.” Another line, this one to connect the sword with the doodle of the skull to form a triangle. “That’s why he’s been able to target you.”

“Which leaves the connection to the gates,” Dustin added, watching as Eddie drew a door into the middle of the triangle.

“So he needed Y/N to open a door for him,” Nancy summed up, “Because…why?”

Eddie looked up from the notebook, gaze flitting between all of you as he said, “You said when the gates closed, his uh, hosts always died. Right?”

“Yes.”

“Only that Y/N wasn’t a host. The part she stole from him – that wasn’t possession, because she made it her own by ripping it off of him when he left.”

“Are you trying to say –“

“It’s hers now.” Eddie’s eyes found yours. “It belongs to you more than to him, but – it’s like a bridge between the two of you. A living part of him remaining here –“ he tapped the pen at the sword symbol, “While the rest of him is in the Upside Down. It’s…it’s like –“

“A relay!” Dustin called out, and when there was silence as all of you stared at him, he let out an exasperated sigh. “Really? A relay? Never heard of that?”

“Just explain it then, Dustin,” Nancy replied with equal exasperation.

“Fine. It enhances RT signals. Think of Vecna as an RT unit. He’s in the Upside Down, and his signals can’t reach our Rightside Up Hawkins because the wall between worlds is too thick for them to pass through and he’s too far away. But if there’s a relay on the other side to enhance the signal, it will be strong enough.”

“So I’m his relay,” you breathed as Eddie added, “That’s how he managed to target Max and the others. The part of him you stole enhanced his signal.”

“Exactly,” Dustin nodded, his happy little grin a little out of place as scientific enthusiasm got the better of him.

“That’s what the door was,” you breathed. “Not an actual gate, but a connection between us. And by opening it, I became his relay.”

“Exactly!”

“Dustin, you’re aware we’re still talking about murder and not a science fair, right?”, Steve admonished, sounding a little like Ted Wheeler.

Eddie’s eyes met yours. “And with every victim he killed…”

“…more gates opened,” you finished.

He nodded. “And that’s why your powers only acted up two days ago. They’re still connected to the Upside Down, to their origin.”

“Which means if the gates closed, I couldn’t set things on fire anymore.”

“Holy fuck,” Dustin breathed. “We cracked the code.”

“I’m getting a migraine,” Steve murmured.

“Steve didn’t crack shit,” Robin chuckled.

“Wait,” Dustin spluttered, “Wait, does that mean you could tap into the hivemind?”

“In my trance, I could,” you said slowly, “But I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that.”

“We still need to see whether we can train you.”

“Train me? When? Vecna is going to trigger the apocalypse in what could be hours, I don’t have time to become a Jedi.”

“A what? What’s that?”

“Star Wars,” Robin and Eddie admonished once more, and this time, the glare Steve threw Eddie was murderous. “You know, I’m not being a bitch about you obviously having no clue about basketball, Munson.”

“Okay,” Nancy announced, rising from her place on the bed to walk to the window, “With everything we know now, the basics of the plan still stand.”

“Yup. The plan,” Eddie echoed, flipping the notebook shut with a soft clap as you furrowed your brow.

“It’s easy,” Dustin explained, turning to you. “Before you went unconscious, you told us that Vecna is Henry is One so he’s human, he’s like El.”

“Just in the grown-up evil child-murdering psychopath version,” Robin added helpfully.

“Which means when he uses his powers, he goes into a trance-like state. He has to enter the Void. Like El. Which makes him vulnerable.”

“And killable,” Steve threw in.

“And killable,” Dustin agreed.

“The killable part is the most important,” Robin added.

Nancy turned away from the window, her gaze finding yours, “So the plan is simple. Max will ditch Kate Bush and make herself vulnerable, baiting him.”

Your mind was reeling.

“She what?! You can’t –“

“We already discussed that,” Dustin interrupted.

“The little redhead won’t take no for an answer,” Eddie mused darkly.

Nancy went on, “And when he’s in the Void to get to Max, we’ll draw the bats away from his lair and kill him.”

“Like sleeping Dracula in his coffin,” Dustin grinned. “And we’ll drive the stake right through his heart.”

“Wait,” you breathed, “The bats. How –“

“I’ll divert them,” Eddie said, giving you a proud little smirk, “With my guitar. Lure them away long enough for team Stab Dracula to succeed. No more running. I’m done being Eddie The Banished. Time to become Eddie The Brave.”

“No.” It came out as a hollow whisper – but Eddie’s timid little smile vanished as if you’d slapped him.

You felt frozen. As if your blood had turned to ice as shock and panic and terror flooded you in a tidal wave, pulling you under, robbing the air from you and making your heart race with the despair of the forlorn as Eddie’s death cries, the soundtrack of your nightmares, rang through your mind, loud as a bell.

I’m going to take your songbird.

And your songbird was about to present himself to the cat on a silver platter.

“No,” you breathed, repeating the word, “No, you can’t do that.”

The hurt in Eddie’s eyes throttled your words of explanation as despair clawed its way up your throat.

“You think I can’t be the diversion ‘cause I haven’t slain a monster before?”, Eddie challenged quietly.

“That’s not what I said.”

“It sounded pretty much exactly like you thought it.”

“It kinda did,” Steve said quietly.

“It’s not what I meant.”

“Okay, I mean, he’s the diversion,” Steve interjected, raising his hands, “It’s not like he’s going in there with us, I’m sure he’ll handle it.”

You knew Steve well enough to tell he hadn’t been thinking about the impact of his words, focused on soothing your own terror – but you could see those words had struck home with Eddie. You remembered all the times he’d scolded himself for running away when Chrissy had died, the shame he felt about leaving her there even though there had been nothing he could’ve done to help –

“I fought those things before,” Eddie said quietly, averting his gaze from you – and that was the worst. “A few hours ago.”

“Well, four of them,” Robin added with a little wince, “Not, like, the swarm of hundreds you’ll be running from once they get to you.”

You could feel the bile rising in your throat, the culmination of images, one crueler than the other, was pelting down on you with the force of a hailstorm. You were going to be sick. You were –

“Please don’t. You can’t do that,” you choked out, and the betrayal in Eddie’s eyes when they finally met yours again was a knife through your heart. “Eddie –“

“So, uh, what else should I do? Stay on the playground with eleven-years-old Erica Sinclair?”

“Leave. You’re wanted for murder. Leave Hawkins and –“

Even Steve scrunched his nose in a muted wince as you blurted the words, panic stealing every sense and filter because you needed to keep him safe, needed to keep him away from the Upside Down and Vecna and his killer bats.

“I’m done running.” Eddie’s voice wasn’t harsh, or sharp. Just determined. As if he wanted to prove himself.

“Okay,” Nancy interrupted, her voice a little too loud, a little too high-pitched, “I think we’re all tired and done for today.”

“Done?”, Dustin echoed, “We need to fight!”

“And to do that, we need to have some rest and prepare ourselves.”

Dustin deflated a little at Nancy’s tone.

“You know, that’s the exact same mistake you keep making when playing D&D,” Eddie said softly, climbing back to his feet and discarding the notebook on the bed beside you before he gave Dustin a playful shove on the head, “Always charging ahead no matter the consequences ‘cause you’re so goddamn impatient.”

It sounded good-natured – and it sounded worried.

Dustin glanced up at Eddie, and the admiration in the boy’s eyes warmed your heart, though the feeling subsided as you saw the strange expression in Eddie’s eyes when he sat on the bed beside you. He didn’t look angry or even hurt – he looked curious.

“Are you having a book club session over here or why are you taking so long?”, a voice chimed up from the door.

“Erica,” Nancy said, “Wait, is everything okay with Max?”

“She’s asleep,” the girl retorted, crossing her arms in front of her chest with her usual not-taking-any-bullshit-expression. “So?”

“We cracked the code,” Dustin grinned.

“Okay, so when we actually want a bit of rest before tomorrow…”, Nancy began, and Robin was quick to fill in her pause, a smirk on her lips, “I guess we’ll need to guard the gate.”

Eddie eyes widened. “Do you think anything will try to…get through tonight? Like, like the bats or shit?”

Eyebrows raised, Dustin said, “I don’t think we need to – “

“Guard it all together,” Nancy cut him off.

Robin’s smirk widened. “Definitely not, good point, Henderson.”

“That’s not –“

“We’ll split the night shift into teams so the rest will catch up on sleep in the meantime, and a shower.” Robin angled her head to sniff at her shoulder, scrunching her nose. “Because we stink.”

“Yes, you do,” Erica added helpfully.

“Yeah?”, Steve muttered, “You go through a lake to another dimension and run from monsters that want you as their starter course and we’ll see how good you’ll smell.”

Erica gave him a side-eye. “And are you gonna be whining about that for the rest of the night like a crybaby, Steve? ‘Cause then I’d like to not be teamed up with you. Are we done chit-chatting teams now or is this a damn game night?”

“Okay,” Nancy breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “Just…let’s not make a big deal of it. The kids will stay at Max’s and the grown-ups will guard the gate in three-hour-shifts. Y/N and Eddie, you can take the first shift.”

You met Eddie’s gaze, shining with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint yet, and that frizzy, bubbly giddiness returned to your chest full-force at the thought of being alone with Eddie again. And relief, because three hours hopefully would be enough to convince him to leave and save himself.

“Robin, we’ll take the second one,” Nancy went on, “And Steve can watch the kids over at –“

“No,” Steve interrupted, “I’m not playing babysitter again.”

“We’re not babies,” Erica shot back, “I’m eleven.”

“Good,” Steve exclaimed, running a hand through his hair before he plopped down on the bed. Right between you and Eddie, half-sitting on Eddie’s lap who scooted farther to the side to make room with an annoyed mutter of, “Great. Thanks, dude,” which Steve commented with, “Well where am I supposed to sit, on the ground?”

“Well, right now you’re sitting on my lap.”

“Well, you could scoot over and make room for one more. It’s a big bed.”

Eddie quipped, “Are we back to the problem how many people plus your ego will fit?”

“I’ll be joining Y/N and Eddie,” Steve announced, wiggling a little in his new seat between the two of you, forcing Eddie to scoot away even farther to begrudgingly make room, “Guarding the gate. It’ll be fun.”

“Which gate will you be guarding?” Robin asked with a sardonic smirk.

Her words set your cheeks ablaze, and you found yourself glad for now that Steve had placed himself between Eddie and you.

Louder, with a shit-eating grin on her face, Robin drawled, “Actually, dingus, somebody’s gotta watch the kids and I figured it was my turn. I’d have proposed you and Nance could team up so you wouldn’t have to babysit for once.”

The glance Robin gave you wasn’t as subtle as she might have thought.

Nancy’s eyes screamed murder at Robin before they caught Steve’s, and in the periphery of your vision, you could see Eddie trying to catch your gaze while you were having a hard time ignoring those big brown eyes because your face still felt as if it would go up in flames any second now.

But once again, the draw to Eddie was stronger, robbing every last ounce of your self-restraint. When you raised your head and turned to look at him, he asked, “You okay with this? If you wanna go join the party over at red’s trailer and get some rest –“

“No,” you replied quickly, just as Robin announced, “Monster slayer here slept through the past six hours, I’m pretty sure she’s the most well-rested one of us all.”

“Good,” Nancy announced, striding out of Eddie’s room, “Let’s go over to Max’s, then, and have some rest.” With a glance at you and Eddie, she added, “Thanks for taking the first shift, you two. See you in three hours.”

Three hours alone with Eddie.

Three hours to tell him the final truth about Vecna’s plot of revenge and talk him out of this stupid plan.

While Robin threw you another not-so-subtle wink, Steve looked as if he couldn’t decide whether to feel annoyed by the thought of Eddie and you being left alone for three hours, or giddy at the prospect of spending the same amount alone with Nancy, and the resulting expression in his face would have been almost comical, hadn’t your own nerves turned into a jangled mess.

You wanted to be alone with Eddie, so much so that it felt like a painful eternity as everyone made their way to the trailer’s front door – but you knew that this time, there wouldn’t be any more stolen kisses like the one at Skull Rock, in blissful ignorance of everything else that had happened.

Fiddling with the hem of your sweatshirt, you watched as Erica, Robin and Steve stepped into the sunset outside, painting the sky above the Forest Hills trailer park in shades of vibrant oranges and crimson that reminded you of the skies in Vecna’s lair, sending chills down your spine.

Nancy was the last one to exit the trailer.

Her hand on the doorhandle, she turned around, throwing you a meaningful glance over her shoulder.

You knew she was thinking about the things she’d said to your earlier at the shore of Lover’s Lake.

“To find someone who makes you so happy, despite everything else going up in flames…some people wait a whole lifetime for this kind of thing and yet never find it. So if you found that with Eddie…you should hold on to him for dear life.”

The tiniest of knowing smiles was tugging at the corners of her mouth when she walked away, pulling the front door shut behind her.

The soft click of it was too loud in the sudden heavy silence.

And you were alone with Eddie.

And the gate.

It was gaping right above your heads, stretching between you; the rip between worlds.

The echo of its dark pulse vibrated through your bones. Come see me. Come join me. Come home, its dark whisper echoed alongside every beat – but Eddie’s presence behind you held so much more power, sending your mind into overdrive as you were reeling with nerves, catapulted back into a glittering November night which had started with hope and happiness, and had ended in shards and tears and heartbreak, right in the very spots you were standing right now.

Which cruel irony, to have said and done all those things that night in order to keep Eddie far away from the Upside Down and its horrors, only for it to have sucked him right into the middle of this whole mess. All this pain to keep him out of harm’s way and yet harm had found and followed Eddie Munson like a malignant shadow.

Back to square one.

“So, uh, you hungry?” Eddie’s hesitant voice made you turn around, “I could scour the kitchen for dinner, I’m pretty sure we still got a can of stew somewhere.”

“Yeah.” You scrunched your nose a little at the stench lingering in your hair, on your skin, every thread of fabric in your soot-stained sweatshirt; a mix of lake water, sweat and smoke. “Or maybe I should take a shower first.”

Eddie let out a half-hearted chuckle.

“Yup. Sinclair’s right, we reek.”

“You more than me, though,” you teased softly, and a playful little smirk lingered on Eddie’s lips when he retorted, “Yeah. Took a hike through a realm with lots of nasty shit.”

“Together with Steve The Hair Harrington.”

Eddie’s grin widened. “I specifically meant Harrington. But, uh, monsters were there, as well, as you know. I’m allowed to stink.”

“You are.”

“Entitled to it, if you will.”

“The most metal smell,” you agreed.

Eddie snorted. “That’s the smell of several mental breakdowns, but since Max told me what the two of you’ve been up to in the meantime, I’d wager the cops were having a harder time than I did.”

At his words, you laughed.

The sound had grown as foreign to you as the feeling which had caused it.

The last time you’d laughed, genuinely laughed, had been that November night before everything had fallen to pieces.

At the sound of it, Eddie’s mischievous smirk fused into a full-blown beam, as radiant as the spring sun, before he said softly, “I missed that so much, monster slayer, you’ve noooo idea. Your…your laugh. I’m glad you didn’t lose it despite...” He gestured vaguely at the gate.

At his words, giddiness rushed through you to make your pulse flutter and your heart race – but in the beat of silence which followed, Eddie’s smirk faltered again, all the leaden anxiety beneath the light-hearted façade shining through as he glanced down and fiddled with the clasp of his bracelet. “Uh, you got ten minutes.”

At your confused blink, he elaborated, “The shower. There’s, um. Ten minutes of hot water. Then it gets freezing. Sorry.”

“No, it’s…ten minutes is enough.”

Neither of you moved to increase the distance.

The air was laced with all the unspoken words of the past four months and the past few hours, floating in the air between the two of you like the particles in the Upside Down, a strange kind of static sizzling in the air while the kiss you’d shared at Skull Rock hung over the two of you like a ghost haunting an abandoned mansion.

Your gaze left his eyes to travel to the gash on his eyebrow peeking out from the soot and the curls of his bangs.

“We should clean that cut,” you said softly.

“Should I grab my uncle’s whiskey?”, Eddie chuckled softly.

You snickered. “I think soap will do just fine this time.”

“You’re a sadist.”

“I’m a realist.”

“Same thing,” Eddie smirked as you walked past him into the trailer’s tiny bathroom, gesturing for him to follow you.

You felt light-headed – and light-hearted, realizing now that all the secrets which had been weighing down your heart, locked up there and hidden from Eddie…you’d set them free. Had opened the door to their cage and let them go, and the feeling of relief that stayed behind, of knowing that nothing had changed in the way Eddie was looking at you, filled you with the feeling of floating like a feather, after you’d been drowning in them for so long.

It had felt like resurfacing from a freezing lake, right after oxygen would have run out and your lungs filled with water to suffocate and drown you in those depths.

Eddie flipped on the lonely lightbulb that dangled from the ceiling before he plopped down on the edge of the bathtub as you proceeded to soak a towel under the tap, heart already speeding at the prospect of having an excuse to be close to him again.

The memory of Eddie’s arms wrapped around you while you’d sobbed only an hour ago, the way he’d painted soothing patterns on your back while resting his chin on the crown of your head, not caring that you were soaking the collar of his Hellfire shirt with snot and tears…you shook it off, focusing on spreading soap on the sodden towel before you turned to Eddie.

“Can you –“ you began, but Eddie already raked his fingers through the curls of his bangs, brushing them away from the cut, and the towel raised in your hand, you stepped closer, coming to stand between his legs.

“If you tell me this is gonna burn, I’ll make an unapologetic fire-joke,” Eddie warned with a soft little grin, his eyes timid as he followed your movement, closing his eyes before the edge of the sodden towel could graze the cut.

His pained little grimace at the contact made your heart bleed for him all over again – and your anger at Jason and his cronies flare before you pushed it back down.

While you softly dabbed the towel at the mended gash to clean the soot from the seams of the wound, Eddie said quietly, “Robin, um…told me about the townhall meeting.”

There was a beat of shaken silence. “Did she.”

“Yeah.”

“It didn’t do any good,” you said quietly, watching a droplet of soapy water slowly run down Eddie’s temple, collecting some of the ashes smeared at the corner of his eye before you caught it with the towel, and Eddie’s eyes fluttered open to meet your own.

In the dim bathroom light, the beautiful umber shade of his irises seemed even darker as he scanned your face.

“It was brave of you,” Eddie murmured. “To tell them about Jason.”

You swallowed against the sudden lump in your throat, at a loss for words.

I did it for you, you wanted to tell him, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“You know, you look a little like a chimney sweeper, too,” Eddie changed the topic with a tilt of his head, the ghost of a soft smile playing on his lips as he rose from the edge of the bathtub.

A quick glance in the mirror above the sink proved him right.

Your face was a soot-stained as Eddie, a few lost flakes of ashes or spores clinging to your own hair just like they did with Eddie’s, your eyes bloodshot from all the crying.

Eddie’s gaze met yours in the mirror before he glanced down, and with a tentative motion, he raised his hands to place them over your own, still clutching the towel.

The touch of his rough palm against the back of your hand made your skin tingle in the best of ways, and your breath hitched in your throat as Eddie’s other hand gently pried your fingers open to take the towel from you as he murmured, “Your turn?”

It was a question more than a statement, and his gaze was searching as it held yours.

You gave him a nod, and Eddie reached around you to pat the empty space on the bathroom drawer beside the sink, gesturing for you to sit down, and with the swarm of butterflies going haywire, you obliged, pushing yourself up to sit on the wooden surface while you watched Eddie wash his hands over the sink, scrubbing away the soot from his fingers before he grabbed a fresh towel from the drawer beneath.

There was a beat of companionable silence, filled only by the low gushing sound of water and the soft tinkle of the chain on the sleeve of Eddie’s leather jacket against the porcelain edge of the sink as he held the towel under the tap, waiting for the fabric to soak.

“’kay,” he murmured, stepping towards you, the towel raised in one hand, brushing an exceedingly unruly curl away from his face. You parted your legs so he could position himself between your knees, and your heart did a backflip in your chest only the most skilled cheerleader would have been able to master when Eddie gave you another timid little smile.

A whole choreography of somersaults followed when he leaned closer, close enough for his breath to fan across your lips, and you couldn’t tear eyes from him as Eddie’s fingertips gently grazed the side of your face to brush away a few stray strands, before slowly tilting your head a little upwards.

The touch was a tender twin to Jason’s violent one, you realized. Where Jason’s fingers had dug into your skin hard enough to hurt when he’d forced you to look at him at the boathouse, the touch of Eddie’s fingertips on your jaw was as gentle and light as the brush of a feather, giving you the chance to shove him away any time.

For the ephemeral span of a heartbeat, Eddie’s dark gaze flitted down to rest on your lips, the kiss you’d shared at Skull Rock in the veil of the spring night only hours ago hovering between the two of you like a ghost in a haunted mansion, present in the slim space between you, mingling with your breaths – and for the beautiful span of that moment, you waited for Eddie to kiss you again.

For his soft lips to brush against yours, steal your breath away again – but he didn’t.

Instead, he started cleaning the soot from your right cheek, the wet towel brushing over your skin in gentle motions, and your eyes fluttered closed.

For a few moments, you let yourself be immersed in the peaceful quiet which settled over the two of you, filled only by the steady sounds of your breaths as you relished the sensation of the warm towel against your skin, the proximity to Eddie, standing between your legs. So close that you could smell the sweat and the smoke on him, the faint traces of Lover’s Lake clinging to his hair, his skin, the stained fabric of his once-white Hellfire club shirt.

It would have been easier to just slap some cold water into your face over the sink and be done with it – and the fact that Eddie had offered to clean you up, and the way he was doing it in the most gentle way, the strokes of the towel on your cheeks and the sides of your face like caresses, harbored a whole new kind of intimacy. Unlike the kisses you’d shared and the things you’d done on the roof of his trailer, but just as beautiful.

When Eddie traced your jaw with the towel, you angled your head a little further to give him better access – and winced as he brushed over the spot below your chin, making Eddie pull away.

“Did that hurt?”

“A little,” you said, eyes fluttering open as Eddie’s gaze wandered down to that spot on your jaw, his fingertips grazing your skin while confusion was replaced by something sterner you’d only seen once before in his eyes, in the night you’d met. When he’d ripped Jason away from you. Anger.

And you realized that Jason’s forceful grip must have left a bruise.

“I never wanted to actually punch someone,” Eddie said darkly, “But if I ever meet that son of a bitch again, I think I’ll break his fucking nose. In case you didn’t wanna do it yourself.”

“He would have broken every bone in your body but you draw the line at giving me bruise?”, you asked, not exactly sure whether you’d meant to be gloomy or teasing.

Eddie’s expression was one of grim determination. “Yeah. I do.”

The cold shard of anger melting from his eyes again when they met yours, he raised the towel once more to continue cleaning your other cheek.

For a moment, you just watched him, utterly caught up in the way his dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks when he blinked, the focus as he wiped the ashes from your face while there was still soot on his own, covering the smattering of bruises.

Beyond the bathroom, you could still feel the thrumming pulse of the gate – but the vibration had lost its edge, the call its urge. Because with Eddie only inches away from you…the draw towards him was so much stronger. Sunlight cutting through the coldest night.

And before your eyes could stray down to his lips, so damn close to yours, you blurted, “What else did Robin tell you?”

Eddie chuckled, his breath ghosting over your lips, making them prickle. “Oh, uh. Just that you’re nosy.” The soft tease in his voice, the lilt in his tone a familiar melody, didn’t help calm down your racing pulse. Our your racing mind. “And that I’m a dufus.”

You snickered. “Yeah, that sounds like Robin. What else?”

There was a tiny beat of silence before Eddie replied slowly, “She, uh…she told me you knew I was innocent right from the start. That you were the one who insisted on searching for me.”

“And I found you.”

He let out another low chuckle. “You hit me with your car.”

“Which counts as finding you,” you snickered.

There was a beat of silence, the words drifting through the slim space between the two of you, a shared smile growing stern before Eddie added with the softest murmur, “She also told me to fight.”

“Honor and glory?”, you teased softly.

“I always thought honor and glory were incredibly overrated, outside of D&D.”

“Then what else would there be worth fighting for?”

“Well, uh. A princess, maybe,” Eddie said slowly, and your heart ceased its next beat, the seconds ticking by as he waited for your reply.

“And would you? Fight for a princess?”

“I’m not a knight in shining armor, remember?”, Eddie said softly, “So, no. I don’t care about princesses.”

There was a deep, desperate, sinking feeling in your chest, spreading like black ink in water – before Eddie added softly, “Though there’s…uh. There’s someone I’d fight for, though.”

“There is?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathed. “Shit. There’s this weird girl who puked all over my shoes. And then proceeded to turn me into the most miserable drug dealer in Indiana.”

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting Eddie’s as he murmured, “Though that’s okay ‘cause I always wanted to be more than just her dealer, anyways. Like…a dude she dances with in the woods. Or a dude she dances with in the woods. Or even…even a distraction.”

You swallowed against the tears as Eddie averted his gaze for a moment.

“Or a hero, for that matter,” he added on a breath, before his lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “A girl I’d follow into Mordor when the Shire is burning and who still has no goddamn clue what that even means ‘cause she didn’t read the goddamn books.” Eddie’s eyes were glittering with barely suppressed tears as they found yours again and he whispered, “Though I don’t think she even needs a hero ‘cause she slays monsters in her free time. Pretty badass, huh?”

“Yeah.” It came out as a susurration, your voice breaking beneath the tidal wave of emotions, of love, so much love, for the songbird with the dark curls and the dark eyes and the heart of gold beneath the leather and denim and tattoos.

“Who believed in your innocence,” Eddie added on a final breath, “Even when the rest of the world came at you with torches and pitchforks.”

Even though she broke my heart into as many pieces as there are stars in the November night sky. He didn’t need to voice those words – they were evident in the expression swirling in his umber eyes as he watched you tentatively, waited for your reply.

“You were never just a distraction, Eddie.” It came out as a broken whisper, filling the slim space between the two of you, the tip of his nose nearly brushing yours.

He swallowed back the lump in his own throat before he croaked, “Then what was I?”

A maybe. An almost. The most beautiful what-if, because you knew, with all your heart, that Eddie Munson was your Forever if you let him.

But nothing had changed since that November night.

If anything, you now had confirmation about your greatest fear becoming reality.

You’d seen how Eddie’s story would find its cruel final chapter.

Some stories weren’t written to have a happy ending, no matter what you’d trade for the chance to grab the pen and rewrite the stars mapping Eddie’s path – but you could send him on another one.

Leading far, far away from Hawkins. And from you.

And when, if, the plan succeeded and Vecna was defeated and Eddie safe…maybe he would still want to be with you then.

But until then, he needed to stay away.

“You can’t go back in there tomorrow,” you breathed, your voice having reached its breaking point while your words made something dim in his Eddie’s umber eyes, a light you’d seen shattering within them once before already. “He’ll kill you.”

“He might.”

“Listen to me,” you pleaded softly, “I know you believe you have to prove that you’re not a coward, but you don’t. You don’t need to prove you’re a hero. You already are one, Eddie.”

“That’s what you think this is about?”, Eddie said softly. “That I’m trying to prove something? Shit, I’m no hero, I know that. The only time I’ve ever been brave was back in there ‘cause I can’t…” He cut himself off with a sharp inhale as the first lonely tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a glittering track in its wake as it smeared the ashes on his cheeks before he shook his head, his trembling left hand shooting up to rake his fingers through his curls, the metal of his rings catching the dim light. “Shit,” he whispered, “This…this son of a bitch hurt you. He’s been hurting you, again and again, and he won’t stop until he’s stopped, and that’s why I’ll go back in there tomorrow to divert these nasty things. Not to prove anything. But to make sure Wheeler puts that goddamn bullet through his heart so he’ll never, ever lay his fucking hand on you again.”

His words rang in the air between the two of you, your heart racing so fast that you feared it might burst from your ribs any second now.

“He wants you, Eddie. Vecna wants to hurt you. That night when he showed me the door for the first time, on the roof…He showed me something else, too.” You swallowed against the lump in your throat which threatened to throttle you before you could get the words out, and your hands folded over his, trembling one, clinging to the towel as if it were a lifeline.

The tears were falling down your own cheeks now in hot rivulets. “He showed me the bats. They were…it was a whole swarm. Hundreds of these things, hailing down on you and…and you screamed –“ For the span of a trembling inhale, you squeezed your eyes shut against the onslaught of images. “I thought if I let you go and made sure you stayed far away from me, you’d be safe. I didn’t know it was Vecna, back then. All I knew was there was something on the other side, watching you. Wanting to kill you.”

Your voice broke at the word, shattering into tiny little pieces.

When your eyes fluttered open, Eddie’s eyes, those beautiful umber eyes, were wide, his chest rising and falling with shallow, rapid breaths as he stared at you with tear-soaked shock and…hope.

Seconds ticked by as you watched him grasp what you’d just told him, the words hovering in the air between the two of you like the spores in the Upside Down, mingling with the cruel echo of Vecna’s voice in your head.

“And when I’m done with you, taken back what is mine – I’ll take your songbird. I’ll break him, bone by bone. And when I’m done, I’ll shatter his mind the way you shattered his heart, little thief. And maybe then…I’ll put him out of his misery.”

“I stole the most precious thing from him,” you whispered. “And he wants to punish me for that by taking the most precious thing from me.”

The sob which had been clawing at you broke free like a bird from its cage, momentarily rendering you speechless as your hands fell away from Eddie’s to clasp in your lap.

“That night last year on the roof,” you said, swallowing against the lump which was strangling the words with the sheer force of your emotions as the truth of that night was set free.

There was hope, so much hope, glittering in Eddie’s umber gaze while he waited for you to go on.

“Just…I want this to…count,” Eddie had told you that night in-between kisses, a smattering of stars forming a silver crown around his wild curls, “I want this to mean as much to you as it means to me.”

“It counted,” you whispered. “All of it. It meant…it meant everything, Eddie.”

“You wanted to save me,” he choked.

“That’s all I ever wanted. That’s why you need to leave. Please. Because if you come with us tomorrow…he’ll kill you. I can deal with seeing it happen every single fucking night as long as I can open my eyes and realize it wasn’t real and you’re still there. But I can’t…”

With the sobs ripping through you harder now to cut you off, you buried your face in your hands, all those horrible images coming alive in your mind again. Of those bats and Eddie’s death cry, his blood coating your hands and the light snuffed out of his beautiful dark eyes.

The sensation of Eddie’s hands folding over yours, gently prying them away from your face to make you look at him, sent a shockwave through you, intensifying when Eddie’s gaze met yours.

All the warmth, all the tenderness and adoration for you were shining in his tear-filled eyes, the emotions blazing there as clear and bright as the neon letters on a billboard ad. Eddie was still looking at you the way he always had, the way he’d looked at you when you’d been underneath him that night.

The despair in his eyes, the wild hope, the bewilderment and heartbreak and devotion stole the breath from your lungs.

“I love you, Eddie Munson,” you whispered. “I always have, and I always will. And I can handle whatever Vecna’s got in store for me as long as I know you’re safe and that’s why I need you to leave tonight.”

The words floated into the tiny space between the two of you, mingling with your breaths as for a heartbeat, Eddie just stared at you, his own tears streaming down his face now to mingle with the ashes and grime.

And finally…Eddie kissed you.

It was funny, how Vecna, a god of his own making, was so scared of time, so set on freezing it yet still not powerful enough to achieve this goal – when Eddie was holding the power to stop time in a single, featherlight brush of his lips against yours.

And this time when Eddie kissed you, there were no more secrets between the two of you, no more hiding. This time, he kissed you, all of you, all the light and the dark and the grey spaces in between.

A soft sigh spilled from your lips into the kiss, a breath you’d never even known you’d been holding – and the delicate brush of Eddie’s lips turned ravenous.

Where the kisses you’d shared beneath the November night sky had been hesitant at first, clumsy and timid, with Eddie holding back, so scared to hurt you, with your own residual terror from Vecna’s first vision settled in your bones…there was nothing hesitant, nothing timid about this kiss now.

It was fierce and desperate and so utterly tender all at the same time when Eddie’s lips moved against yours, making all the pandemonium and horror of those past days, months, fade into sweet oblivion.

A kiss to stop the world from spinning and make your heart sing a tune solely meant for Eddie while his hands found their way up to gently cradle your face and angle your head to deepen the kiss. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer to where you were still sitting on the drawer as your hands snaked up the fabric of his Hellfire shirt to lock them at the nape of his neck, burying your fingers in his soft curls to make him arch into the touch with a breathless little moan that made heat flare through your body in response.

Eddie tasted of the salt of your tears mingling with his, of ashes and smoke, the waters of Lover’s Lake and sweat and him, and you’d never get enough of it. The passion of Eddie’s kisses ignited sparks in your chest, in your belly, spreading along your nerves like the sizzling glimmer travelling along a fuse as you pressed closer, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing over your temples in a smooth caress to catch the tears that were still streaming down your face. Of relief, and love – and fear, the festering fear that Vecna would make true of his promise and take Eddie.

Tell me this is real, each of Eddie’s feverish kisses seemed to beg as one of his hands wandered down over the column of your throat, the pad of his thumb gently grazing the point of your racing pulse while his teeth grazed your bottom lip, Tell me you mean it.

I love you, you answering sigh told him as you pressed closer, the grasp in his curls tightening as you opened your lips to taste him. I love you. I’m sorry. And I love you.

Not in your wildest dreams had you dared to imagine this, right now – Eddie knowing all the darkest parts of you and still kissing you with such devotion and tenderness, his feelings for you unwavering, infusing each of his kisses with all the love and loss and heartbreak of those past weeks and months.

It was so easy, to start again where things had ended that November night.

As easy as breathing.

As easy as it had been to fall in love with Eddie Munson in the first place.

And you knew, with all your masks stripped, all your walls torn down and secrets on display, you didn’t want to waste a single second more.

Slowly, you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, the tip of his nose brushing yours as he chased your kiss before his eyes fluttered open and deep, rich chocolate met your gaze with an intensity that could have knocked you to the ground hadn’t you already been seated.

Unspoken understanding passed between the two of you as you decided you wanted to strip yourself in every way possible for him. And after all the truths Eddie had learned about you today, letting your clothes follow suit felt only right.

Your eyes never leaving Eddie’s, you reached down to grab the hem of your sweatshirt, the fabric sticky with sweat and lake water as you slowly pulled it over your head, watching Eddie’s eyes widen a little as he swallowed when you let the clothing fall to the tiled floor.

The air of the tiny bathroom was cool as it brushed over the bare skin of your arms, your chest; with only your bra left to cover you now.

Eddie’s hands found their way to your waist, warm palms settling on your skin to pull you closer for more of those intoxicating kisses that left your mind dizzy and put the sun in your chest and a smile on your lips, turned every beat of your racing heart into a love song written for Eddie, the movement of your lips against his the lyrics only he could understand.

When Eddie slowly let his rough palms wander up your sides, the pleasure of his touch made you arch your back to pressing closer against him, and your own hands roamed over his chest, dipping underneath the lapels of his leather jacket, wandering up to his shoulders –

The jacket was gone in a heartbeat, falling to the floor as Eddie shrugged it off to answer your unspoken question, and your hands found the hem of his Hellfire Club shirt, the gentle tug on the fabric another unspoken plea he heeded without hesitation, momentarily breaking the kiss before the shirt joined the rest of the clothes on the floor, the grimacing red demon face grinning back at you from the heap of fabric.

There was heat flaring in your chest, in your whole body, as you looked at Eddie now.

His hair was ruffled where your fingertips had raked through the curls, sticky with grime and sweat, a few stray strands of his bangs standing on edge from pulling the shirt over his head, and you took a few heartbeats to just stare at him in all his glory, his chest bare and the rest of his tattoos on full display. A spider right below his collarbone, and a demon face on his chest above his heart – before a painful wince escaped you as your eyes roamed down to the bruise on his ribs where Andy Warren had hit him with the crowbar only hours ago, momentarily stealing the spotlight.

“Does it still hurt?” A dumb question.

“Shit, yeah,” Eddie chuckled softly, “But I really couldn’t care less about that right now.”

With a smile, you shuffled a little closer to the edge of the drawer, your fingertips tracing the outline of the spider, wandering down to the demon’s grimace and farther, following the soft outlines of his ribs to his stomach, fingertips wandering over the trail of the v-lines dipping from the lines leading to the button of his ripped jeans as you watched with avid fascination how his breath hitched beneath the caress of your fingertips, the touch light as the brush of a feather as you let it wander down the dark dusting of his happy trail to the spot where it dipped below the waistband of his pants.

“Does that tickle?”, you asked softly, and Eddie snickered.

“Among, uh…other things.”

“Any more tattoos I don’t know of?”, you teased, meeting Eddie’s gaze, burning yet timid as it rested on you with an intensity as palpable as a caress, making your skin burn in the best of ways, tiny flames licking at your skin.

His smile was playful when he replied, “You’re gonna have to look for yourself. If – if you want,” he added quickly, looking as flustered as you felt in this new situation.

You slowly jumped down from the drawer and reached down to undo the button of your jeans before you peeled the sticky fabric off of yourself underneath Eddie’s burning gaze – and when the jeans were gone and you were bare before him save for your underwear, the way he was looking at you, as if you were the most beautiful girl in the whole world…it made sparks explode in your chest to rival every Fourth Of July Firework.

Still smiling, you chewed your bottom lip before you turned around, your back to him, looking at him in the mirror. “Help me with my bra?”

“You sure?”, Eddie asked softly, and you gave a timid little nod.

“Yeah. Never been surer, actually.”

Through the mirror, Eddie gave you the sweetest smile before his eyes flitted down to the clasp on your back, curls falling into his face and his long dark lashes casting shadows across his soot-stained cheeks.

He truly was beautiful.

Before you could voice the thought, though, the brush of Eddie’s fingertips over your back robbed your words at the sensations travelling through your nerves.

Your heart skipped its next beat as slowly, relishing each fleeting second, Eddie leaned closer to press the softest of kisses to the nape of your neck, testing the waters as his hands slowly roamed down your sides – and at the bliss-filled little shiver his kiss elicited, your hands shooting out to grab the edge of the sink, Eddie murmured, “Tell me if you want me to stop, ‘kay?”

“Hell no,” you whispered, arching your head a little as Eddie chuckled, his breath ghosting over the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck before he placed a second kiss to that spot to steal a gasp from your lips.

It spurred him on – and in the mirror, you watched as Eddie trailed a path of slow, lingering kisses down your spine, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his lips, the sensations racing through your body to stir heat in your core while his fingertips worked to undo the clasp your bra.

And when the garment fell to the floor, leaving you bare before him, Eddie gently spun you around, his hands settling on his waist as he took you in, and you slowly rid yourself of your panties, letting them fall to the tiles and stepping out of them before you raised your head to meet his gaze once more.

The heat of his umber gaze made your bare skin tingle as a sudden bout of insecurity hacked its claws into you – but upon the expression in Eddie’s eyes, brimming with so much warmth and affection and awe as he took you in, every residual kernel of insecurity was dissipated like mist in the rays of the morning sun.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” Eddie breathed, the rasp in his voice betraying his arousal as much as the impressive bulge in his pants, “Shit. I feel like I’ll drop dead every second now.” The timidness in the smile on his soft lips mirrored your own, an unspoken question hovering in the slim space between the two of you.

Still so sweet and considerate, still waiting for your permission to touch you even when you were naked in front of him.

“If you faint,” you warned with a soft smile, “I’ll have to take that shower alone. And I really wanted to share those ten minutes of hot water with you, Eddie.”

The smile turned into a radiant grin. “I better not faint, then, huh?”

“You better not,” you agreed with a murmur as you stepped closer, watching Eddie’s lashes flutter as you gently let your hands roam down his belly, fingertips following the soft line of his happy trail for a second time as you listened to the soft hitch of his breath, felt his muscles twitch beneath your caress, before your fingertips found the clasp of his belt, and your lips found his for another searing kiss.

You could feel how Eddie kept restraining himself, holding back to let you set the pace, keep you in control as you worked to open his belt, the button of his ripped jeans, before your thumbs hooked into the waistband to rid him of the pants and boxers all at once, Eddie’s hands coming up to help with the task at hand.

And just like that, he was naked as well, save for the rings on his fingers, the bracelet on his wrist and the guitar pick on the necklace around his neck.

Now it felt as if you’d faint before he could because the sight of Eddie, utterly naked, was definitely one to behold.

“Like what you see?”, Eddie teased softly, and his shyness, so opposed to his usual confident self, made giddiness bubble in your chest.

“Hell yes.” Meeting his eyes, there was a beat of silence as you just took each other in. Stripped of every layer, allowing yourselves to be as vulnerable as humanly possible in every way there was.

“You’re beautiful,” Eddie murmured. “I…I mean it. In…not just hot. Like, you’re hot. So damn hot. But you’re so fucking beautiful, monster slayer.”

The heat in your cheeks was one of utter fluster as you reciprocated his shy smile, taking his hands in yours.

“So are you, Eddie Munson.”

There was relief shining in his dark eyes upon your words, and you wondered how many times he’d doubted that.

For a heartbeat, you remembered the cruel words people had uttered about Eddie that day in the cafeteria when Jason had started spreading his lies about the two of you.

“Did you hear what Jason said she let that freak do?”

“Gross.”

“Maybe the freak’s got some hidden talents underneath these ugly clothes.”

“Wouldn’t ever be enough to make up for his ugly face.”

“I mean it,” you said fiercely. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, Eddie. And…” you smiled, “I’m relieved I can finally ogle you in peace because it was getting really hard not to openly stare at you at all times –“

You were cut off when Eddie’s lips crashed on yours again, the words morphing into a happy little sigh spilling into the kiss while together, you tumbled into the bathtub-turned-shower, the curtain tinkling softly as it brushed your side before your spine met the tiled wall, your hands coming up to cradle Eddie’s cheeks and pull him closer to deepen the kiss while one of his hands left its place on your waist to turn on the water.

You let out a pleased little gasp as the warm spray pelted down on your bare skin, droplets of water running down your body and soaking your hair and washing away all the grime and sweat as Eddie kept kissing you with a fierceness and reverence that sent your senses spinning and chased everything else from your mind but the feeling of Eddie, of his bare skin pressed against yours, every movement of his muscles, every hitching breath and soft gasp and stroke of his tongue dancing over yours as your hands roamed over his body, mapping out every line and every inch of his skin while he did the same with you, building that glowing, throbbing ache for him between your legs and stealing your breath with every caress underneath the warm spray of the shower.

When you pulled away from the kiss to catch your breath, you couldn’t tell how much time had passed. And how much longer you’d have until the water would turn freezing.

Eddie reciprocated your wide smile with a radiant one of his own as you watched him.

Admired him.

He was as soaked as you were, his curls black in their sodden state, his bangs falling into his eyes in waves as the water pelting down on the two of you still wasn’t enough to wash away the grime and soot from his face. You’d happily take over this task.

You reached out to grab the bar of soap from the little tray behind him.

“Want me to…?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, his voice breathless as it laced with the noise of the water, and you gestured for him to sit down at the edge of the tub, coating your hands in soap while you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs.

“Close your eyes.”

Eddie heeded the soft-spoken command, his eyes fluttering close.

For a heartbeat, you couldn’t help but watch him, admire his long lashes, watch the water run down his beautiful face in soft rivulets, before you set to work.

Your fingertips drew gentle, soapy circles over his right cheek, starting with the side of his face that was unmarred by bruises, and Eddie’s eyelids fluttered softly as he leaned into your caresses as if he’d been as starved for your touch as you’d been for his.

Throat constricting with emotion, with love and affection for Eddie, your songbird, you washed away the ashes from his face, watching the streaks of grime vanish from his skin as you moved on towards the other side of his face, careful to keep the touch of your fingertips light as you cleaned away the grime from his bruises.

And when you were done, you leaned closer, placing the softest of kisses on his brow, right beside the cut, Eddie’s hands coming up to gently settle on your hips while you moved on, placing a second kiss to the bruise on his temple, and a third one on his jaw, right above the darkest of the bruises, Eddie’s soft sigh mingling with the sound of the pelting water.

“Hair?”, you inquired softly, and Eddie’s eyes fluttered open as he gave you one of his playful signature grins before he drawled, “I’m not sure yet whether you dragged me in here because I was stinky or because you wanted to grope me, monster slayer.”

“Both,” you giggled.

“I’ll gladly return the favor.”

You grabbed the bar of soap once more, watching the foam coat your palms before you moved to rake your fingers through his hair, drawing slow, soothing circles on his scalp that coaxed a relieved moan from Eddie’s lips; a sound that went straight to your core, to the ache already building there with every second, every touch, every kiss – but for now, you wanted to relish the innocence of the gesture, of cleaning each other up, the intimacy of it all that wasn’t tied to sex.

“Good?”, you grinned, watching the serene little smile spreading on Eddie’s soft lips as he relished the sensation of your fingertips working the soap into his sodden curls, his eyes closed with bliss while he leaned into the touch of your fingertips.

“If I could purr, I would.”

You watched the water running from his hair slowly turn from a dark grey to clear, a few residual flakes of ashes, or spores, washed away to vanish down the drain.

“I feel like you carried the whole Upside Down in your hair.”

“The way it felt, I wouldn’t be surprised if a Demogorgon or two were still in there as well,” Eddie chuckled, and you joined him in.

With easy silence settling over the two of you once more, filled only by the sound of the water, you moved on to the rest of his body, spreading the foam, fingertips tracing the outlines of his on his chest before you moved on to his arms and down his stomach, breaking your movements to place gentle kisses on his skin that made his breath catch and drew the softest of blissful hums from his throat as Eddie melted into your touches until the last remnants of sweat and grime had been washed down the drain.

“Okay, done,” you said softly, “Squeaky clean.”

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie uttered on a playful croon, making you laugh as he stood up again, gently taking the bar of soap from where you’d placed it on the edge of the tub.

“Your turn?”, he inquired softly, raising the soap as he blinked back at you through the curtain of his sodden bangs and the droplets of water falling from the showerhead above, and you gave him a happy nod.

“I need to hear it, monster slayer,” Eddie said softly.

“Yes,” you breathed, and Eddie leaned in to place to sweetest of kisses on the tip of your nose before he gestured for you to turn. You obliged happily, angling your head a little – and a sigh spilled from your lips as Eddie’s fingertips found their way into your wet hair, massaging the soap into your scalp with smooth movements that made you feel like you could melt any second with the gentleness of the motion, the calming sensations cascading over you as the soapy foam ran down your body.

Your eyes closed, you leaned into Eddie’s touches, feeling the smile tug on your lips and the pleasant shivers racing along your body as Eddie’s hands wandered down to the nape of your neck, along your arms, spreading more soap in slow circles over your skin like you’d done for him, gently washing away the sweat and the stench of smoke and Lover’s Lake which had been clinging to you.

And with the grime and sweat he softly cleared from your skin, vanishing down the drain along the bubbles of soap…it felt like the stain you’d been carrying on your soul, the mark you feared Vecna and the Upside Down had left there to fester, rot spreading with every lie and every ugly secret, was washed off by Eddie’s loving touches, the sensation of his hands wandering over every inch of your body to make your nerves come alive beneath his palms, your mind going haywire as the world around you blurred and each and every one of your senses, of your cells, honed in on Eddie.

Your eyes still closed, you followed Eddie’s lead when he gently twirled you until he was in front of you again, his calloused hands wandering over your body in the softest caresses.

And just when you thought you couldn’t wait a single second longer until he kissed you again, he did.

The softest moan bubbled from your lips and into the kiss as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, having memorized your reaction from that November night – and Eddie’s caresses lost their innocence as he gently caged you against the tiles, his hardened length pressing against your sodden skin to make need flare between your legs.

“That okay?”, he breathed into the kiss, and in your blissed-out daze, it took a moment for you to realize what he meant, that he was scared he could somehow make you feel caught because the position was so similar to the one he’d found Jason in, that night in the woods.

You pulled away from the kiss, your hands cupping Eddie’s cheeks. “I will never, ever feel uncomfortable with you, Eddie,” you whispered. “I want this. Every touch. Every kiss. Okay? As long as you want it too, I’m way more than just okay with everything you do.”

His eyes scanned yours underneath the spray, before he nodded.

And with a trembling breath, shyness taking the wheel for a fleeting heartbeat, you asked, “Can I…touch you?”

It took a moment for the confusion in Eddie’s gaze to clear, before he breathed, “God, yes. If you wanna –“

Your kiss stole the rest of the sentence, because there was nothing you wanted more than to touch him, and his words morphed into a sinful sound that went straight into the heat searing between your own legs as your fingers gently wrapped around his impressive length, one of his hands shooting out to splay on the tiles beside your head to steady himself.

The reaction chased away any residual insecurities, because if that was the sound you could draw from him with a simple touch, you wondered…

Eddie’s groan vibrated through your own body as your thumb gently flicked over his tip, spurning you on and stoking the ravenous need for him in your core as you slowly started to stroke him, the blissful noises tumbling from his throat enough to make you go crazy with want.

Your own moan mingled with his as Eddie’s other hand roamed down your side, wandering towards the inside of your thigh, teasing – before his fingertips found that throbbing spot at the apex of your thighs, and you felt like your knees would give in any second now as he started circling the sensitive bud of your clit, so achingly slowly, just as he’d done that night beneath the stars.

Your blood seemed to turn into liquid flames at the sensations Eddie’s touch sent cascading through your body.

You moved your hips, chasing the friction of Eddie’s fingertips as he continued to draw lazy circles over your wet folds, sending you into ecstasy, and at the sounds tumbling from your throat as your fingers clawed at his back to pull him closer beneath the spray, you could feel Eddie’s soft smile against your lips.

And still, he wasn’t close enough. You needed more, more of him –

A shriek ripped from you as you nearly jumped into Eddie’s arms, your body going numb with the shock of the sudden cold of the spray which had turned icy in the matter of a second, and Eddie’s string of curses filled the tiny space as he blindly fumbled for the shower tap behind you to shut off the freezing water before he succeeded.

For a shaken heartbeat, you stared at each other, both of you shivering, before a breathless little laugh tumbled from your throat and Eddie jumped out of the tub to grab a towel from the drawer beneath the sink, returning to wrap it around your shoulders before, with the sweetest of smiles, Eddie used the towel’s edges to gently swipe the water from your cheeks before he took your hand to help you climb out of the tub.

“Where were we?”, he breathed, inching closer, and you tilted your head before you teased, “Can’t remember.”

“We should definitely retract our steps, then,” he smiled, raising your hand to his lips to place a kiss on your knuckles, “Just to be sure.”

You didn’t remember much of the way from the bathroom to Eddie’s bedroom, didn’t remember how he’d half-heartedly slammed the door shut as you’d tumbled through, the towel falling away from your body as Eddie walked you backwards until the backs of your knees bumped against the frame of his bed and, your hands buried in his sodden curls, you let yourself sink backwards onto the mattress, pulling Eddie down with you, not once breaking the feverish kiss as he situated himself between your legs, elbows resting on the sides of your head and the guitar pick dangling from the little chain around his neck softly grazing the spot below your collarbone.

You rolled your hips against his, and the sensation of his tip grazing against your folds, slick with your arousal, stole the loveliest groan from Eddie’s lips to mingle with your own.

With a soft smile, Eddie began to trail heated kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, over the bruises Jason had left on your skin, the touch of Eddie’s lips featherlight so he wouldn’t hurt you before he reached the spot below your ear, and his kisses grew ravenous again.

You realized what had been in front of you all along. That before you’d even learned that the monster placing horrors into your dreams and mirrors and mind was called Vecna, Eddie had been your saving song to keep each and every single one of your demons at bay.

The tune of his laugh, the music of his lilting voice when he talked, the melody he made your heart sing whenever you thought about him.

Eddie Munson had always been the bane of Vecna’s power over you.

“I need you,” you breathed, and Eddie paused his kisses to glance down at you, eyes glittering with a kaleidoscope of emotions, the darkness of his dilated pupils encased by the rings of his umber irises beneath the drying curls of his bangs.

“You sure?”, he breathed softly, water dripping from his sodden curls onto your own wet skin like the droplets of a gentle summer rain.

You nodded. “Yes. I want you. And if…” You swallowed, fresh tears threatening to choke you once more, “With tomorrow…”

“I don’t want you to want this because you fear it’s the last chance,” Eddie crooned, his breath fanning across your cheeks. “I want you to want this because, well, you want this. Not for some one-last-night-we-gotta-make-it-count-stuff.” He paused, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your brow before he whispered, “It counts no matter what we do or how far we take this. It always counts ‘cause we’re together. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled at the tenderness in his gaze, the devotion in his umber eyes as if he still couldn’t fathom that you were here, bare beneath him, gazing up at him with all the love that made your heart feel like it would burst with happiness any second.

“You’re still the first, by the way,” Eddie said softly. “The only. There’s…there hasn’t been anyone else.”

His words made your heart soar in your chest like a kite in the summer breeze.

“For me neither,” you whispered. “It’s only ever been you.”

Eddie’s smile widened. “For the record, it wouldn’t change a single thing about how I feel for you, but it does spare me a very large amount of seething, raging jealousy to know you didn’t resort to sex-drugs-and-rock-‘n-roll to…uh. Soothe your aching heart.”

“No way,” you smiled. “I only want you. As for the rest…” your smile turned teasing, “Where should I have gotten the drugs without you? You’re my not-drug dealer of choice. And I feel like I’m more into…you know. Metal, instead of rock ‘n roll.”

Eddie chuckled softly, before his lips met yours again in the sweetest of kisses as he shifted to align himself with your entrance, his soaked curls tickling the skin on your collarbone before he pulled back to gaze down at you, eyes dark and brimming with warmth as he watched you, scanning your face for the slightest sign of unease or doubt he would never find because there was nothing you’d ever wanted more than this, to be with him. To give him your all – body, soul, heart. Everything you had to give.

Your hands locked at the nape of his neck as he leaned onto one elbow, his other hand free to caress your cheek.

“I love you, monster slayer,” Eddie whispered, the tears brimming in his eyes mirroring those which stung in your own.

Of joy, this time. Of gratefulness, for what you’d both thought lost returning to you at last only to realize it had never been gone in the first place.

He’d never told you those three words before, but he didn’t need to. They were evident right now, in the look in Eddie’s eyes as he gazed down at you, making sure you were okay just like he’d done all those months ago on the roof beneath the stars.

They were evident in the sacrifice he’d been ready to bring tonight, and they’d been evident long before, in each of his smiles, every kind word, every little way he’d been there to collect the shards of last summer and mend them back together.

No, Eddie Munson had never needed to say those three words – but hearing him say them now was still the most beautiful thing in the word.

“I love you, too,” you breathed.

With his eyes never leaving yours, Eddie moved, burying himself in your throbbing heat, slowly, as careful as if he still feared he might hurt you, and the air was knocked from your lungs with a sharp exhale as your velvet walls stretched around him and your bodies melted together.

Breathing in each other, gazes locked and overflowing with so much love, it was as if you could feel the glowing thread connecting your soul with his, like the same green ribbon of silk which had led you back to him alongside the tune of his song. Out of the nightmare and back into his waiting arms, catching your fall just like he’d always done.

There were no words to ever express how much you loved Eddie Munson.

And there were no words needed – because you could see it in his eyes that Eddie understood.

You wrapped your legs around his waist to guide him closer, bury him deeper in your heat as the softest moan spilled from his lips to mingle with your own at the sensation.

“You good?”, Eddie breathed, resting his forehead against yours, voice raspy and dark with his arousal as he was giving you time to adjust to this strange new wonderful feeling of him inside of you.

“Better than good,” you whispered – and with your lips meeting his, you rolled your hips, drawing the most beautiful sound from him…and the most sinful one from yourself as the tip of his cock grazed a perfect spot deep inside your velvet walls.

It was all the reassurance Eddie needed. He began to move, pulling out slowly before he sheathed himself inside of you again, and right before your eyes fluttered close with the overwhelming pleasure of the sensation, you caught a glimpse of the tenderness flooding Eddie’s gaze, the raw emotions for you mirrored in their depths.

The glowing sensation of pleasure bolting through you overpowered the slight sting of pain at the movement, and you realized that no matter how often you’d do this with him, you would never get enough of it. Of Eddie buried inside your throbbing walls, his heartbeat racing against yours in beautiful synchrony and his curls tickling your cheeks as he moved, slowly, so achingly slowly; each measured thrust building this heat in your core and stealing the breath from you, chasing every rational thought from your mind until there was only Eddie, his scent immersing your senses and his slow thrusts driving you into the sweetest oblivion.

You realized why people called it making love.

You could feel Eddie’s love for you in every gentle thrust, in every caress of his calloused fingertips over your cheeks while his own moans mingled with yours in the air around you.

His fingertips brushed over the spot below your ear before they caressed your jaw, gently tilting your head to grant him access to your neck, his teeth nipping and grazing the tender skin above your pulse as you bit back another moan – but hot breath tickling over the wet skin below your ear, Eddie whispered, “No need to hold back, sweetheart. Be as loud as you want to. Those sounds are sweeter than any guitar tune.”

He didn’t need to tell you twice. The last remnants of your restraint melted beneath the heat he sent searing through your nerves, setting your body ablaze with bliss.

Your hands roamed over the soft skin of his back, feeling his muscles flex with every thrust as Eddie increased his pace, you own hips snapping up to meet his in perfect synchrony, each movement guiding him deeper into your heat, his tip grazing that spot over and over again while your hands tangled in the soft, soaked curls at the nape of his neck, tugging just the way you knew he loved – and the reward was a sound that went straight into your core, making you clench around him.

“God, you feel so good,” Eddie rasped, his voice strained with need when his hand left your jaw to roam down the column of your throat, trailing over your breasts and farther down, “So, so good.”

Your reply turned into another broken groan before you could utter any words when Eddie’s fingertips slid into the space between your bodies to graze the swollen bud of your clit, making bliss sear along your nerves until your entire body was alight with the sensation, the pleasure Eddie kept building in your core with every quickening thrust, growing more urgent with each roll of your hips to meet his, every caress of his fingertips over the nub of your clit until you felt you might go crazy with the need for more, more of him, his touches, his wanton moans lacing in the air with your own to form a beautiful duet – and with a final thrust, hitting that sweet, sweet spot deep inside of you just perfect, Eddie’s name ripped from you in a broken cry as bliss cascaded over you. A glowing tidal wave, washing over every nerve and every cell of your body, every fibre of your being as you came undone beneath him, his soft murmurs guiding you through your orgasm.

“I love you, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, the pace of his thrusts faltering as his own climax drew closer, his fingertips still dancing over your clit, the touch of the calloused pads of his fingertips the most perfect contrast to your own soaked skin – soaked with the water of the shower still clinging to you, with sweat and the arousal pooling between your legs. “I love you so fucking much.”

And his forehead falling against yours, Eddie’s orgasm washed over him with the sound of your name like the lyrics of a song on his lips. It was the most beautiful one you’d ever heard.

His eyes closed with bliss and his soft, plush lips parted with a soft groan, the sight was so beautiful you wanted it tattooed in your memories as your hands left his curls to settle on the sides of his face, careful not to graze the dark bruises blooming there as he rode out his climax, his fingertips still coaxing wave after wave of white-hot bliss from your body as they swirled over your clit, spreading your arousal.

And when you felt him spill himself inside of you, the sensation was enough to send you over the edge for a second time, this one more gentle – a wave carrying you rather than crashing over you yet just as intense, robbing every last ounce of strength from your muscles as it washed over you with the sweetest release, his hands shooting up to lace his fingers with your own above your head as the pace of his thrusts faltered.

For a few heartbeats, the two of you stayed like this, trying to catch your breaths, caught in the hazy afterglow of passion numbing your minds and ensnaring your senses, Eddie’s curls tickling your sweat-soaked skin, before Eddie rolled off you, gently pulling you with him, against his chest, the echo of his heartbeat thundering against your ear as you caught your breaths.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie let out a breathless laugh, bewildered and amazed all at the same time, “That was…holy shit.”

“This…this was…” You trailed off, at a loss for words, still caught in the daze of your second orgasm.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispered, his breath tickling the shell of your ear, “Better than anything I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Did you?”, you drawled playfully, still breathless as you placed your chin on his rapidly rising and falling chest to glance at him, “Imagine something the likes?”

Eddie’s answering smile was as radiant as a supernova, his voice genuine as he rasped, “Only with you, monster slayer.”

And for those beautiful moments, your happiness, the euphoria of being back in Eddie’s arms, right where you belonged with his heartbeat against yours, chased the way the thoughts of Vecna and his monsters and his threat hanging over you like crimson thunderclouds.

There would be time to prepare for what was to come next.

One final battle.

One last time of rolling the dice fate had handed the two of you, hoping for that critical hit to save what you loved most.

To save your songbird.

And save him, you would. No matter the price, you were ready to pay it. Tomorrow.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things eddie #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #joe quinn

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sorikkung · 5 months

Text

what goes on in neverland. ⇝ ch. 7: fighting, flighting, and so many feelings

word count: 16k

pairings: transmasc!reader x Everyone, everyone x everyone (skz, tbz and atz, check masterlist for more details)

genre: e2l, f2l, smut, fluff and lots of assorted shenanigans. hijinks, if you will

au: battle of the bands!au but make it gay and horny

warnings: extremely dubiously consensual voyeurism, humiliation kink, very brief hyung/oppa kink, feminisation kink, breeding kink but probably not in the way that you think.

a/n: just a reminder that these characters aren't meant to be super great people. they're a little fucked on purpose. also, not proofread at all, not even once, just needed it done. full a/n at the end. glad to be back! c:

tags: @honeybyunnies @syunderful @absentcaryatid @mingirn (lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

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“Do it again.”

This is starting to feel a little like déjà vu.

“I did it perfectly that time, what are you talking about—”

“Just do it again!” Eric snaps, pressing play on the music and not giving you much of a choice. As you go through the complex part of the routine he had given you, he barks orders to your other bandmates getting distracted behind you. “You guys should be practicing too! You have all of night time and every other day to make out, can you not focus on practice now that it matters more than ever?”

The air inside feels stuffy with all the sweat and exertion, but god forbid this man gives anyone a break. How his own body managed to keep up with the strain he’s putting it and all of yours through is far beyond your comprehension. You contemplate if he’d be able to keep going after you throw a large rock at him.

“Eric,” Kevin whines, leaning on his knees to catch his breath and wiping the sweat from his brow as Eric tries to pull the two boyfriends off each other. “Can’t you take it a little easy on us? Not all of us are used to dancing for hours and hours on end, or even dancing at all. At least let us have breaks when you’re focusing on someone else. Which you’re not even doing! Look, he just did it again!”

You ponder the type of rock you should throw at him. Maybe pelting him with tiny pebbles would be even more of an annoyance. Maybe you should stick to a big one and go straight for the bruises on his legs that still linger from how hard he went and continues to go on the pole.

Eric whips around to look at you in your ending pose, and twirls his finger at you in a motion to repeat. “Do it again, I didn’t see it.”

Or, maybe you’ll just find the heaviest rock you can find and drop it on his head. Hopefully the worst it’ll do is a mild concussion.

“Yeah, cause you’re too busy being a dick to everyone!” you quip at him, eyes flaring. “Eric, we gave you this position because we wanted to show you we’re still taking the competition seriously and that we still value your opinion and trust in your leadership, not for you to walk all over us and push us too hard because you’re still salty that we fucked the guys making you insecure! Get over yourself! If you want to take this stage sooo seriously, maybe take into consideration the physical state of your team! We’re all about to collapse!”

“For someone who trusts in my leadership, you sure aren’t following it all that well,” he grumbles in response, rewinding the track. “One more time, just you. Or do they not train you hard enough at the Prism?”

You roll your eyes at the fucking audacity, because that is not even remotely the same and he knows it. “No, because they’re more concerned about our sex appeal than our pole technique, Wooyoung and I train ourselves to have fun — you should try it sometime!”

He doesn’t grace that with a response, turning the song on again, and you decide to cooperate only to throw all your remaining energy into the routine, making it as extra as you can muster — facial expressions, powerful moves, dramatically thrusting your whole body into it like it was the actual stage, so there’d be absolutely no way Eric could nitpick on you any more.

Or so you thought.

“You overdid it.”

“Get fucked, Eric!”

You straight up scream in his face, pushed far past your limit and sick of his shit. You have been trying so hard for him. All for him. You made sure he was okay with it before even signing up for the competition, you trained him in pole and choreographed him a role routine and night at your job just so he could impress them, you fucked his ex with him just so he could prove a point, you got thrown over a table for it and continued defending his honour and all you get in repayment is him being a total asswipe because he can’t handle what you do with your spare time.

“Are you fucking serious right now—“

“Alright, enough!” Sunwoo bellows, loud enough to make poor San flinch, stepping between you and grabbing each of you by the collar. “Either make out and make up, or fuck off till you calm down. I’ve just about had it with all the arguing and bossing around. We’re all taking a break and I am not taking no for an answer!”

Sunwoo is the type to get fired up just as easily as Eric is, if not more, so you all know how to handle him when he gets set off; but there’s something different this time. His tone cements the decision as final, and Eric must feel it too because he finally stops arguing and storms off.

The rest of you watch him leave, and as soon as he’s out the door, you all slump in relief to the floor. It’s done. Day one of Eric’s Nightmare Bootcamp is finally done.

“Fucking finally,” Sunwoo mutters, lying still for a moment before being the first to get up and start collecting his things. “My entire body aches. Apparently this place has hot springs? I think I’ll go check them out.”

“I’m way too hot and sweaty for that,” you sigh as the others start getting up to join him, “Lowkey tempted to take an ice bath instead. Or go chill in the lake, or something.”

“I’ll join you,” San pipes up, hanging the sweaty towel he was using to wipe his face around the back of his neck. “The lake sounds great right now.”

Sunwoo shrugs. “Suit yourself.”

It was Eric’ idea to put the camp in boot camp, bringing up his extended family's holiday house in the woods that only ever gets used twice a year. It’s a ridiculous waste of money and housing as far as any of you are concerned, but at least Eric was smart enough to mould himself a spare key before he went no-contact with them. Granted, he then immediately lost said key while moving apartments, but as soon as you brought up the idea of a boot camp he turned the whole damn apartment upside down searching for it, only to realise it had been hot-glued to his battle jacket this whole time as a decoration along with other spare keys you had gathered for diy purposes.

The place is nice, awfully scenic – not quite mountainous, but hilly enough for the cliff the lodge is on to make for a gorgeous view overlooking the lake, estuary and ocean — secluded, and cosy. Now that Eric actually has a key to the place, next time you come here you hope it’s on calmer terms, with more time to check out all the hike trails and rock pools by the beach, but for today, aimlessly floating in a lake to sooth your sore muscles sounds perfectly ideal.

San’s bare ass is a pretty welcome sight, too.

“A cheeky skinny dip, huh?” you muse aloud, “Have fun getting whatever bacteria this lake has to offer, I’m keeping my jocks on.”

“Oh please, like that’d help that much.”

“It literally would though, that’s a whole additional barrier!”

“It’s still gonna soak through though, so if it’s in the water, you’re fucked.”

“Is that why you want me naked so bad? So I can be fucked?” you tease, wading into the water with him – still slightly warm from the daylight, but no doubt quickly cooling with the setting of the sun in the horizon.

San shrugs cheekily, submerged up to his shoulders in the murky depths, ducking under the water to drench himself entirely then dramatically flip his hair back upon breaching the surface. “Maybe.”

“Horny bastard,” you huff, splashing him in the face and making him cough and splutter, only for him to splash you back twice as hard. “Pffuah— stop, stop! I’ll stop, I’m too tired for a splash fight.”

“Okay, okay,” San hums, relenting his assault to come up behind you and wrap his arms around you instead. You sigh and lean into his gentle embrace. “I was joking, anyway. I’m way too tired and sore to be doing any fucking right now.”

So are you. The more you think about it, the less the thought of getting it on seemed appealing, the ache in your muscles dragging you down like lead. The cold water was nice, though, and the reprieve of San’s warm body amongst it even nicer, so you just stay there for a whole, tucked under his chin and listening to the steady beating of his heart.

It’s exactly what you needed after such a long day. Probably what San needed too, if the way he sighs in relief into your hair is any indicator, then presses a kiss atop your head. “This is kinda romantic, isn’t it?”

“Romantic?” His tone is playful, but the conversation you had with Sunwoo still lingers on your mind. You find yourself at a loss for words. “What about it?”

San leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder and press a kiss there, invoking a shiver. It has little to do with the temperature. “The scenery, for one. This lake is beautiful. The sunset. Holding you like this. Is it not nice?”

You blink twice, trying to process what this man is saying to you. Does he mean romantic as in nice? An interesting choice of wording, that’s for sure – but maybe you’re overthinking it. You’re probably overthinking it. You’re definitely overthinking it. Had Sunwoo not said anything, you probably wouldn’t have thought twice about him saying that. Saying it so seriously, even. Though the initial question did sound like a bit of a joke, so he’s probably joking. Or something.

“No?”

You snap out of your thoughts to reply to him. “No, it is nice— it’s really nice. Just what I needed after all of... y’know.”

“After all of Eric’s bullshit?” he suggests helpfully, and you don’t need to see his little cat-like grin to know it’s there.

“You said it, not me.”

He laughs, placing his hands on your shoulders and twisting you around to face him. You don’t know how he manages to smile so blindingly after the hell he has been through today, especially as one of the few band members who had no background dancing, but he gave it his all. You admire that about him, how he’s so hard-working and so soft-hearted but in a way that he needs to be tough to be; the fact that he always remains soft under the pressure of the world trying to harden him, is toughness in its own right. A fuzzy feeling sprouts in your chest, such deep fondness, and it’s enough to ease a bit of the lingering tension. He leans in for a kiss, not quite a quick peck but nothing deeper; just a kiss for the sake of a kiss, one that lingers, then he pulls you back into his arms and pushes your face into his neck.

San’s always been like this, so it really shouldn’t be as flustering as it is. After all, he’s the reason your band started being as touchy with each other as they are now – from kissing the homies goodnight. He’s just overly affectionate like that. Has his heart always beat this fast when you did, though?

Has yours?

You wonder if he can hear it.

You think about how easy it would be to tell him you love him right now. The words could just roll off your tongue; I love you. Things wouldn’t have to change. San would probably just be happy to hear it, say it back, and kiss you breathless. Yet, something about that thought makes your words get caught in your throat. It would be so simple. Too simple, even, because what would he mean, when he says it back? What would you mean?

“Do you want us to be more than friends?”

San’s skin feels even hotter to touch, or maybe that’s just you. He quirks a brow at you when you pull away from him, lips drawn into a slight pout, and it makes you feel like eating sandpaper, so you pull him back in and bury your face in his broad chest once more. You have always been weak for San’s pout, even if you’re the one making him do it on purpose because it’s just so cute. You know Wooyoung does it for the same reason, he’s said so, and you never miss the way his eyes crinkle with glee when it works. For Wooyoung, bothering his loved ones is his life’s greatest joy, and there’s nothing quite like the glow of a man in his element. You can picture him smiling at San like that right now, calling him a baby and calling you whipped.

“Do you want to date us? Be romantic with us, tell us those three words you’ve been too scared to say for too long, take us on dates that are explicitly dates, call us yours? Is that what you want?”

You kiss him, and nothing more, over and over again, until you finally stop thinking. He picks you up for your legs to wrap around his waist, weight supported by the water around you. He doesn’t ask questions nor complain, only pulling you in closer, and when you feel him harden against you, there’s no pressure to address it.

When that only makes each kiss feel even more intimate somehow, it starts to dawn on the edges of your mind that you may be well and truly fucked.

After three days of more torture, you have just about reached your limit. You thought Eric would have calmed down after the initial fight, but it seemed to instead just put him on edge the whole time – you and the others quickly realise he is not about to pull that stick out of his ass until you get that win against Stray Kids, and if the next round is still in another three days, then to hell with all of you in the meantime.

Usually, you would just fuck it out. Shockingly, having an outlet for all the pent-up frustration does wonders for trying to sort out problems, but you can tell it’s different this time; even if Eric did let you sleep with him, you aren’t entirely sure he would calm down completely. Still, selfishly enough, you could do with it for the release on your end, as your other physical outlet being dance is no longer cathartic when it’s the cause of half your frustration.

At this point you would have just grabbed one of the other members after practice, but morale is at an all-time low and everyone just seems tired. Eric has always been the energizer of the group, and you realise just how much you all relied on him now that he’s no longer filling that role. Even Wooyoung and Sunwoo’s attempts at joking around and lightening the mood have been falling a little flat, and you can see the toll it’s taking on them too. Tension lingers in the air even when you are not fighting, and as nice as the view of the Sohn’s lakeview lodge is, all you’ve wanted to do since you’ve arrived is get out.

The reception isn’t the best out in the woods, so you find yourself climbing one of the tall, sturdy trees by the lodge to see who you can call. Not necessarily for a booty call, maybe sort of a booty call, but more importantly just someone to talk to who isn’t your band; though you quickly realise how few people you actually talk to outside of your band. Most are friends or acquaintances from within the industry, and the last thing you need right now is to spread gossip about your own band to the event organisers, or worse, your competitors – but as you scroll through your messages, something about the latter sticks out to you.

You call Lino.

The idea is not your best one, you have to admit, but you’re definitely intrigued to find out what kind of metaphorical ditch you will wind up waking up in by doing this. Your last interactions with Lino made it very clear the way he operates – it’s a trade-off. He is not beyond gossiping about his own team, so if you pry well enough, you can get something juicy – the caveat being, he remembers everything you say as well, and will use it against you. Which only makes this idea even worse the more you think about it, since it would not take much for him to smell blood in the water and something like a fight among your band would be far too easy to prey on, but you already pressed call.

You are not exactly known for your good life decisions.

“Hello?”

The voice that picks up is already a lot warmer and richer than Lino’s light and airy voice, which raises every alarm all at once, but it’s definitely not a recognisable enough voice to match a face to. One of the other lost kids, that much you can tell, but that’s it.

“He…llo? This isn’t Lino.”

A laugh filters through the receiver. “No, it’s not. I stole his phone and he still hasn’t noticed yet.”

Whoever this is, you like him already, you decide. That’s the kind of mischief you can get behind.

“Wow. And who might this be? Another stray kid?”

A tongue click. “That’s right. Makes me wonder why my beloved hyung is getting a call from the enemy.”

The reference to you as an enemy has you not knowing how to feel about it. The same term has left your lips about them on more than one occasion, but perhaps part of you has always been aware of how one-sided your feud with them really is, though, you suppose with your tendency to meddle and pick fights, that’s been quickly fixing itself. You can acknowledge you have been creating drama, but to hell with it, you think. You’ve meant every damn word you’ve said this whole time.

“Heh. Well that’s for me to know and you to wonder, hmm? What makes you think I’d tell you? I don’t even know who you are.”

You hear the ping of him turning his camera on, and pull your phone back from your ear to see a familiar enough face staring back at you. Now the fact that you didn’t recognise him from his voice alone is almost embarrassing – that rich baritone carries their songs, and you’ve done enough internet stalking all of them to know the rest by face now.

“Ah. You’re Seungmin, right?” You switch on your own camera and fix your hair in a way you hope seems nonchalant, but you know it’s a poor attempt to hide the absolute wreck you must look like right now, covered in sweat and hair sticking out in every which direction. “I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked.”

“No, you’ve been a bit too busy digging into my bandmates– are you in a fucking tree?”

You instinctively glance behind you, as if not expecting a tree to be there, when you are, in fact, quite literally, sitting in a tree. The movement is so fast you wobble a bit on the branch you perched on, but it holds steady, and you regain your balance quick enough.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m in a tree. Long story.”

“I got time.” Seungmin’s expression remains unreadable as he pulls the strings of his hoodie and flops backward onto presumably his bed, possibly Lino’s or god knows who else’s, and gets comfortable. “Why you in a tree?”

“Why do you care? I called Lino, not you.”

He rolls his eyes, then flicks the phone camera loud enough to make an audible thwack as if he just flicked your forehead. “No shit you called Lino, this is his phone. But I’m bored, a little nosy, and a shockingly good listener, so I’ve been told, so indulge me a little. If you’re not going to tell me why you called Lino, at least tell me why you’re in a tree, I’m curious now.”

“You’re more interested as to why I’m in a tree than to why I called Lino?”

“Mmm, maybe equally as interested. I just figure you wouldn’t tell me why you called Lino even if I did pry, but I’m gonna just assume it’s a booty call.”

You snort. He’s a little more right than you want him to be, but you don’t know if you want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that yet.

“Well, the short version is that the reception out here is dogshit, so I climbed a tree.” You flip the camera and show him how high up you are, and nearly drop the damn thing however many feet below to a tragic death among the pinecones.

“Woah, nice view!” You flip the camera back around to your face to grin a little smugly. “Surely you don’t live out there in the woods, do you?”

“Ah, no, just out here for, uh… boot camp. Decided we needed to start taking practice more seriously since we have some actual competition this year, so we took the week off work and fucked off to one of the guys’ holiday homes.” You deliberately leave out the part where it’s kind of sort of technically trespassing, despite how curious you are to hear his reaction to it. “Hence. Tree.”

Seungmin nods along, cutely playing with the hoodie drawstrings and pulling them up past his chin with the hand not holding his phone. You’d think he was on FaceTime with someone a lot closer than a near stranger, but you suppose his cute charms just come naturally to him. “Damn, respect. We’ve more or less been doing the same this whole time, but more of us are unemployed than not, so, at least we don’t need to worry too much about taking time off work. Well, in Innie and I’s cases it’s taking time off classes, but, he barely shows up to classes anymore anyway.”

“Y’all studying?” Now that you think about it, you don’t know much about the group’s personal lives beyond Felix and Chan – Felix, obviously from knowing him through Eric since he was still doing his tattoo apprenticeship, and Chan’s digital presence informed you he did music full-time, selling the beats he doesn’t use himself. You remember their friend Jisung being a DJ at parties, and saw him doing music online as well, Changbin too but with less of a presence – but none of them were big enough to explain the ridiculous budget Stray Kids stages have been having. Either the few employed members are raking in dough, or someone comes from money, and you bet your meagre savings on the latter.

“Yeah, I’m studying music, vocals mostly. Also composing, music industry, music history, photography and videography, and Japanese as an elective ‘cause it’s fun.”

“Jesus,” you exhale, “That’s… a lot.”

He chuckles, pulling his hoodie back down to hide his face less. Even in its entirety, you can’t read any of it. “Yeah, it’s good fun.”

You expect him to elaborate on that more, but he doesn’t, making you crinkle your nose. “What about the others? You all students or?”

Seungmin shakes his head. “Nah, just me and Innie, he’s also studying music performance. The rachas – our production line, that is, Chan, Changbin, and Hannie – they all do music pretty much full-time, except Changbin who is also a part-timer at a gym. Personal trainer. Lino’s a viral sensation on YouTube for making cat videos, it’s shockingly enough to pay rent. I’m sure you already know what Lix does, and Hyunjin, well, apparently you know about that too.”

You snicker. “Funnily enough, we found out that one completely on accident.”

“You’d have had to,” Seungmin says slowly with a knowing grin, “We make sure to keep those profiles completely separate.”

Whatever other sentences your mind tried to come up with quickly fizzle out as you process his choice of wording.

“We?”

He laughs, light and melodic, and his face shines with such cutesy innocence you are shocked to hear him allude to engaging in creating such content. “Yeah, we. How do you think he sets up the camera and everything while tied up like that?”

Your eyebrows shoot up at the realisation that Seungmin was the rigger from the one stream you caught, and remembering how intricate the ropework was, you find a sudden deep respect for him blooming as a craftsman.

“Wait, you’re his rigger?”

“I’m his boyfriend, but yeah, his rigger too. So, sorry if I piss you off at the competition and you can’t suck my dick about it, it’s a real tragedy.”

He practically just handed you a formal invitation to think about his dick, so you rip it out of his hands with a sly smirk. “Aw, why not? That’s never stopped Mingi or Wooyoung. You could tie me up all pretty, too.”

Not that it’s a particularly good idea to let a practical stranger tie you up in a full-body rope harness, but you don’t expect him to actually get to that point, more so just teasing the idea. While you definitely expected some sort of reaction, the quirk of his brow and beat of silence is certainly more than you bargained for.

“Y’know, I’m starting to wonder if at this point you just want the whole band as notches on your belt.”

Were you anyone else, that might have even stung, but you shrug it off in earnest.

“Maybe I do. But truthfully, it’s like, ninety-percent more to do with the fact that each and every one of you are smoking hot. Like, I may be cocky and hypersexual, but even I have standards, and you all more than exceed them, so sue me for shooting my shot.”

His eyes widen slightly at that, and you wonder if he doesn’t get told how good looking he is that often. Granted, his face is a lot softer and sweeter compared to the more visually striking faces of his bandmates, but he’s still incredibly handsome by every means of the word. The likelihood of your assumption quickly decreases when he follows it up.

“I can respect that. I am quite a catch, aren’t I?”

You snort, not prepared for his response. “Yeah, I’d say so. So, if you and your prettyboy boyfriend are ever looking to spice things up, feel free to call. On or off camera.”

“Damn, you’re bold.” He chuckles again in what seems to be mild disbelief, to which, he really should have known better, but you suppose you can let it slide on the account that he’s never interacted with you personally until now. “I’ve haven’t had that conversation with him yet, but don’t get your hopes up. He’s quite the possessive type.”

The dopey smile and fond tilt of his head when he says that tells you that he doesn’t really mind that one bit.

“Aw, shame. I was already thinking about all the fun we could get up to together!”

It’s not as sarcastic as you make it sound with your sing-song tone; having already wanted to give Hyunjin hell since that first stream, and almost but not quite regrettably, more after, the thought of teaming up with someone as seemingly sly as Seungmin, to do a number on him was beyond appealing, but you suppose you can’t always win them all. It’s only then what a relevant thought hits you.

“Wait, but what about him and San?”

“Ah.” He at least doesn’t seem surprised to hear about it, so you’re glad you at least didn’t just throw San under the bus with that one. “Hence the yet on the conversation. I don’t know. We were all arguing, tensions were high, he and San grabbed each other by the shirt, he looked at me before he kissed San and right after, too. It felt like he was asking for permission, so I just… I don’t know. It’s not something I’d really thought much about till then, but I was curious. I can��t say it felt right, but I kind of just wanted to watch and see what happened anyway? I probably should have said something to stop them, but I just shrugged and nodded at him, let him decide if he wants to do that. Think I was angrier about it than I thought I was, but with everything going on I couldn’t really isolate that feeling yet. So I just kept arguing.”

At the mention of all the arguing, you’re coldly reminded that the very man you are talking to, probably said some really nasty things about you and the people you care most about, but you shove that aside for now. As aggressive as you tend to be, the long week prior just has you tired of arguing with just about fucking everyone, and you don’t know if you like that that says about you.

As if the situation between the bands couldn’t get any messier, yet more relationships get tangled in the web of drama. You always wonder why people cling so hard to the concept of monogamy when another alternative presents itself, but you suppose it’s easier to avoid the work it takes to communicate with people that much when you can just expect someone to avoid making you feel bad by default. At least this time you aren’t the one at the centre of it, but either way you can’t take all the blame when it takes two to tango in the first place.

“Oh jeez, that’s messy. And you haven’t talked about it at all? It’s been days, dude, why not?”

“Why do you care?” he huffs with a laugh, dryly throwing your own words back at you.

“I’m bored, nosy, and a shockingly good listener,” you retort right back at him. “Indulge me a little, sticking my nose into other people’s drama is a great distraction from my own. Plus, an outsider’s perspective might even be useful, who knows?”

Seungmin’s lips flatten into a line, staring up at the ceiling past the camera and debating it internally before rolling onto his side with a sigh. He looks so cozy, wrapped up in his hoodie and now snuggled up to a big fluffy pillow he rests on, his other hand propping up his phone to give you the perspective of two close friends talking at a sleepover, and not rival strangers, just one of which sitting atop a random ass tree.

“I feel like I’ll regret this, but, well, suppose you’re the only one I can talk to who doesn’t know either of us well enough to be biased, so… sure. Though there’s not much to be biased about actually. I don’t think. Basically he just… I thought he was gonna talk about it afterward, but instead he just ended up getting noticeably more possessive… like, needs to be clinging to me at all times, glaring at everyone else who tries, referring to me as his boyfriend more than usual. I’m not sure what’s up with that, since he’s the one who slept with San, but we’ve been too busy and stressed with practice to really have a chance to talk about it yet.”

“Ah.” You nod along, figuring that they must be taking the competition just as serious as your band is to come up with such show-stopping stages, so you relate to the stress that would probably make it a bad time to have such a conversation. “That’s rough. How do you feel about it all, though?”

Seungmin has to stop and think about it for a moment, shoving his face deeper into his fluffy pillow and looking down at the sheets instead of his phone screen. “I… I think I’m more upset that he’s acting so strangely about it than the fact that he did it in the first place. Makes it look like he feels guilty about doing it and is tryna be extra possessive to make up for it, or something, which… means he must’ve felt like he was doing something wrong when he did it. I don’t think it’s technically cheating, because he did pause to check in with me and he wasn’t trying to hide anything, but… we probably should’ve actually talked about it first.”

“Yeah, you can say that part again,” you huff. “Shockingly, sitting down and talking about your issues tends to solve them. Most of the time.”

He seems to be able to read through your tight-lipped expression, looking back up at the camera again.

“Something tells me the drama you’re distracting yourself from with mine, wasn’t solved that easily.”

“Yeah, well.” You pause, trying to think of how much you would be willing to share with the other team, considering you have no idea if Seungmin is the type to run his mouth or not. “It… yeah. Not that easy this time, unfortunately. Our plan B – or, plan A, sometimes, honestly – is usually to just. Fuck out all our emotions then talk about it calmly. But this time the hurt person decided to revoke that, well, technically he said he wouldn’t bottom for us anymore so maybe that still is on the table, but it just feels different. I don’t think he wants to go about it like that this time, and our other attempt didn’t work either and just made us even more tired and wired and I’m reaching my limit with these guys. Probably would do me some good to take a drive back into town, but I’m not sure what I’d do there. Work a shift at the Prism, maybe try go home with a stranger? I dunno. I’m not as keen on hooking up with strangers anymore, they don’t always like the same things I like and usually aren’t as down to sit down and talk about it beforehand so its just mid. But my other physical outlet has always been dancing, which, is all I’ve been doing lately and half of why I’m so frustrated.”

He nods along much like you did, humming at certain points to indicate his attention. “Right. So you just want an outlet for all that frustration, huh?”

“Basically. Or maybe just a break. Who knows.”

“I like boxing as an outlet,” he suggests helpfully, “Helps to print out the face of whoever you’re pissed at on a punching bag.”

“Ooh, that sounds good,” you hum, already thinking of which photo of Eric you should print out. You aren’t sure if Seungmin is extending an invitation or not, but either way it’s a good suggestion. You decide to throw out a line, just in case, and see what he does. “Doesn’t punching something over and over get kinda boring, though? Suppose that’s what you get a sparring partner for though.”

“Does fucking someone over and over get boring?” He asks cheekily, and you certainly were not ready for that response, so you splutter.

“Does- no, of course it doesn’t get boring. Not when your partners are hot and good at what they’re doing and – lets just say, we spice things up enough to keep things exciting.”

“Like what, jacking off to Hyunjin’s streams?”

“I guess, yeah. Among more exciting things. You’re not the only rigger around, y’know.”

Seungmin smiles and runs a hand through his hair, exposing his forehead more, which frames his features a lot differently; you start to get a glimpse of what you think Hyunjin sees before his streams in the was he grins so deviously at you. “Are you trying to one-up me?”

“In what, being a kinky freak?” you snort, not really seeing how even this is meant to be a competition, even if it did, admittedly, kind of feel like it. Just talking to any of the Stray Kids at all seems to draw out your competitive streak. “I mean, I reckon I’d have a fair run at topping it, but I’m not gonna pretend I’m the kinkiest degenerate in town. That’s Wooyoung for sure.”

He laughs and it’s shockingly melodic, which is a little unfair to all the people who laugh like they’re dying. “Really? Now that’s be interesting, who has the more questionable Pornhub search history, Wooyoung or Hannie…”

“Wow, way to rat out your own,” you chuckle, and you find yourself really enjoying your interactions with this Seungmin guy. He seems pretty alright so far. “Found him stumbling out of my apartment last week when I got home after the last round. Sunwoo sure did a number on him.”

“Yup, and he hasn’t shut up about it since,” Seungmin drawls with what seems like a rather fond eyeroll. “I think he saw God that night. Changbin is pissed about it. Thinks he’s stooping too low, or something. I wonder what he’ll think about you and Chan?”

Static sounds play in your brain until you can catch up with him. “He doesn’t know about me and Chan? You know about me and Chan?”

“Uh, yeah, genius, you were both at each other’s throats last we saw you and then you were both gone. Not rocket science. Chan isn’t blabbing, if that’s what you’re worried about. Though I kind of wish he would. How was it? I hear he’s a real romantic, but I have my bets on him being quite the tease.”

“You spend this much time thinking about what your homies are like in bed?”

The no-hesitation response sends Seungmin’s eyebrows shooting upward for a split-second, and a slightly twisted sense of satisfaction fills you at being the one to have a gotcha moment with that one, rather than being on the other end. You don’t like the realisation that more than one person has tried to call you out for that. You try not to think about it.

“Just… curious, I guess. It just comes up in conversation sometimes! It’s not that weird. You can tell me. I’m sure I can nag it out of him later, anyway.”

“Last time I shared anything juicy with a stray kid, he used it against me,” you hum, sounding less hurt and more amused at whatever he’s playing at. “Surely I get something just as interesting in return, as a guarantee, of sorts?”

Seungmin thinks about it, stroking his chin through a comically big sweater paw. “Not sure what kind of dirt I could give you. My boyfriend’s cock and hole is on the internet for everyone to see, you can gage a pretty good guess of what we get up to behind the screen based on what he does on the screen. I don’t really have much to hide.”

“Dirt on the others, then? You mentioned Han’s search history…”

“Ah, our Jisungie,” Seungmin coos, a smile taking over his face again at the mention of his bandmate. “Suppose I could throw him under the bus a little more. I think he’d like it if I did, honestly. Humiliation kink n’all that. Not that he’d admit it. But he doesn’t have to, it’s written all over him and the guys he likes. Hell, the girls too. If you teased him about it, it’d probably make his dick hard.”

“Really now? Oh, now that is so enticing… how bad is he gonna kill you for that one?”

“Really bad,” Seungmin chortles, muffling his laugh behind his sweater paw. “He gets worked up pretty easily, but cools down just as quick, only to fire up again as soon as you prod him. We used to fight a lot, when the band first got together, but I think we’re past that now. Since meeting you guys, though, it’s like his diss track era all over again… it’s been fun how angry he’s gotten over it all, and now he’s just angry at how good Sunwoo was in bed. It’s so cute. Seeing him get all competitive is also cute. He gets flustered easily, but then he’s surprisingly witty. Cocky, too. Haven’t seen that side of him offstage since he was still beefing with Hyunjin.”

He clearly has no idea how much material he is giving you to work with, probably thinking the humiliation kink was the meat of the information, but you absolutely soak up the details on how this man reacts to things. You won’t be caught off guard, not by him or anyone else on that team, and you are increasingly confident that the next round will absolutely rip them a new one.

“Is that so… alright, I’ll bite. Chan… is a lot crueller than he seems. But I can see how he’d be the romantic type in any other situation… I think I bring out his mean side, though. It’s pretty fun,” you muse, to avoid saying it’s pretty hot instead. “He’s very… patient. Frustratingly so. Not as much of a pushover as I thought he’d be.”

“You’re being awfully vague on purpose,” Seungmin points out blankly, “so I’m going to assume it was hot as fuck and he fucked you so good you’re ashamed to admit it.”

You really don’t like how fucking perceptive he is, you decide.

“Well, I’d definitely go with him another round.” You try to sound nonchalant as you shrug and act unbothered, because if your assumptions are right, he will go running to Chan as soon as you hang up the phone. “Next time though, it’ll be at my place on my terms. We’ll see how long he lasts.”

You hear the filtered sound of the door opening, and Seungmin stiffens, but grins. “I’ve heard all I need to hear. Lino just got home though, so I gotta dip– DM me if you wanna spar sometime. I think it’ll be fun to punch you.”

“Hey!”

He hangs up, and you’re left sitting in a tree with more questions than you have answers for. Your body aches as you make your way down the tree to head back for dinner, then practice, then sleep, then even more practice, and you wonder if you’ll have time to drive back into the city to try boxing somewhere in between. Probably not.

You get the feeling this won’t be the last of your interactions with Seungmin regardless.

Arms wrap around your waist from behind, suddenly finding yourself pressed back against someone’s firm chest. You look down at his hands, listen for the scuffles of the others’ feet on the dance floor of the practice room and voices talking, then chuck out a guess without turning to look at the mirror.

“Sunwoo?”

“Gotcha.” He pulls you back, out of the room into the sunlight and the refreshingly cool breeze of the woods. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been avoiding you. We literally live together!”

“Yeah, that makes it really fucking easy to tell when someone’s avoiding you.”

Have you been avoiding him? It definitely has not been a conscious attempt to do so, but you suppose the urge to avoid his intense gaze has probably resulted in you avoiding him somewhat altogether. You aren’t sure what to tell him.

“I haven’t been trying to avoid you,” you mumble, slumping back into his embrace so he has to practically hold your entire body weight, leaning back on the outside wall of the rec room. “But I guess I’ve been doing it unintentionally. I’m sorry. I’ll stop now.”

“It’s okay,” Sunwoo hums, resting his chin on your head. “You gonna tell me why, or nah?”

“I think you know why,” you mutter, glad for how he holds you from behind so you can stare out at the scenery around you rather than have to meet his eye.

“Humour me.”

“I don’t think I will, Sunwoo,” you sigh, exhausted from this game of cat and mouse you’ve been playing. “There’s just. A lot going on, right now. I’m tired. Stressed and tired.”

He accepts your subject change gracefully, hugging you tighter and humming in agreement. “I could tell. We all are, but you seem to be taking this all the worst after Eric.”

You snort. “Really? So why aren’t you comforting Eric about it, then?”

“You saw how he is. I don’t think he wants comfort from any of us except Kevin until we bring home another win.”

“I really thought this would help him,” you confess, voice small. It makes you ache a little. “It seemed like the perfect idea. Give him a sense of control and respect and trust in us again, focus on our art, kick some ass. I just didn’t expect him to kick ours.”

He chuckles, and you feel it rumble in his chest against your back. Grounding. “Yeah, me neither. That’s why I’m leaving that one to Kevin and coming to you instead.”

“Well, thanks.” You twist around in his arms to give him an appreciative peck to the lips, then immediately twist back around towards the scenery at how just seeing his face up that close again made your heartbeat faster. His presence feels so much more intense since that conversation, which is likely why you ended up being so avoidant.

“Turn around and look at me.”

“Huh?” You do, withholding the urge to visibly gulp at the way he smirks down at you and cups your cheek.

“You’re really cute when you’re too flustered to look me in the eye. Have you been having feeeelings about me?” he teases, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and fizzling out the last coherent thought you had in your brain.

“It’s– It’s a feeling alright,” you stammer, trying so hard not to shy away from his gaze. “One of them, for sure.”

“Mm, I wonder which one,” he presses further, leaning in to dust kisses along your jawline, stopping at your neck just to breathe over it. “But you don’t even know that for yourself yet, do you?”

You shiver, clutching tightly at his hips. “I– I don’t know. Everything has been so insane lately and I don’t wanna add to all that at such a stressful time for everyone, y’know?”

He pulls back with a sympathetic smile and strokes your hair. “This is the most stressed I’ve seen you in a while. Been waiting for you to ask me or the others to help you do something about it, but you haven’t. Why?”

Perceptive as ever, Sunwoo sees right through you like fucking glass. To a point where it would be almost humiliating if it weren’t exactly what you needed a lot of the time. “Because everyone is tired and sore and needing to be in tip-top shape if we’re gonna endure any more of Eric’s boot camp hell. This is the kind of frustration I’d take out on Wooyoung that’d have him sitting on a bag of frozen peas and calling out of work for the night.”

“Ooh,” Sunwoo chuckles with a smirk, “that frustrated, huh? Well, I don’t enjoy pain that much, but I can fuck the frustration out of you if you want—”

“Tempting as that sounds,” you muse aloud with a click of your tongue, “I don’t wanna put your body through any more stress than Eric already is. You’re not a dancer, you must be sore all over.”

“I am,” Sunwoo confesses, “But I don’t need to exert myself. C’mon, you needa de-stess.”

“Sunwoo…” A smile is already tugging at your lips however, and you both know you don’t have it in you to deny him.

“C’mon.” He has a cheeky grin as he waddles you down the hill with him back towards the lodge, ushering you to his room. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’s confident. He always is, never failing to lure you in and get you where he wants. If that happens to be his bed, then in his bed you will be, trapped in his embrace on the edge of the bed, right in front of a full-length mirror. Sunwoo is a bit vain like that, or perhaps just voyeuristic. Probably just voyeuristic, if the way he left the bedroom door wide open is any indicator, but such isn’t uncommon when it’s only the band around. This time, at least, the lodge seems empty.

Sunwoo takes his time kissing along your neck and trailing his hands along your body, under your clothes, and you sigh and lean back against him, letting your eyes flutter shut and focus on the feeling of his plush lips and calloused guitarist’s fingers. There’s no rush. You know he could do this all day, and it has you relaxing into it so much you jolt and gasp when he bites down on your neck just as hard as you like it. The dark chuckle he lets out at your whine is telling; he has you right where he wants you, playing your body like a fiddle.

He turns your head towards him and pulls you into a heated kiss, slow yet eager, savouring every brush of lips and taste of tongue. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world and he wants to spend all of it just feeling you against him, your lips on his lips and your skin under his palms and his hardness against your back when he pulls you closer.

A hand slips down your pants but not past your underwear, simply cupping you there, idly teasing as he proceeds to kiss you, and you find yourself subtly shifting your hips up into his touch for more pressure. You know if you tried to egg him on any further he’d pull away immediately, so your keep your hands firmly planted on his thighs encasing yours, giving them an encouraging squeeze.

“Want more, baby?” he breathes into your ear, the air making you shiver.

“Please.” You don’t have the energy for his teasing, or any of the usual back and forth. You’ve had enough of that lately, and at least with Sunwoo, you don’t feel too embarrassed to beg. “Just touch me.”

“Your wish is my command, prince.”

His hand finally slips into your underwear and touches you where you need him most, gathering your wetness on his fingers and slowly circling your clit. Too slow. It does it’s intended purpose of riling you up, but you don’t need to be even more riled up right now, you need to let off steam—

“Relax,” he murmurs when your hips buck up more into him. “Just focus on feeling all of it, okay? You’re gonna tire yourself out quickly if you’re that eager.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, slipping a finger into you and replacing its spot on your clit with his thumb.

“Sunwoo, please,” you beg again, and you see him smirk down at himself in the mirror. That little shit. He’s enjoying your desperation a little too much for someone who claims he just wants you to relax. “I need more.”

“Well, shit,” Sunwoo hisses, slipping a second finger in and finally quickening the pace and pressure of his fingers, your body singing under his onslaught. “When you ask that prettily, how am I supposed to deny you, mm?”

Your head falls onto his shoulder, just in perfect range for him to start sucking on it again, no doubt on his way to leave a very visible mark behind. “Y-You don’t,” you manage to gasp out, and he smirks against your skin.

“Don’t get too used to it, prince. You might find me feeling a lot more cruel another day.”

You want to groan out, I know, but his fingers working their magic don’t let you, and you honestly welcome the way it makes your mind go blank, watching him through the mirror looking so focused and so into making you feel good, completely ignoring himself. Your eyes flutter shut just as you are interrupted by his phone ringing.

“Motherfucker—”

“Shhh.”

He doesn’t remove his hand from between your legs as he uses his other one to grab his phone from his pocket and answer it, lazily drawing circles on you with his thumb while grinning at you in the mirror. You know you’re trapped now, because you can’t quite recognise the muffled voice on the other line, and if it’s someone important, possibly even related to the band, you can’t risk ruining it for him by making a sound.

“Oh? No, I’m not busy,” he lies smugly, making direct eye contact with you while he says it and slipping in another finger. “Why, I didn’t expect you to call so soon. Missing me already?”

Your eyebrows raise at that comment, noticing the flirty lilt in his voice and trying to figure out who the fuck he would be talking to like that. It doesn’t sound like any of your bandmates, giving he wasn’t expecting the call, unless it was maybe Eric? You mouth him the question, but he pointedly ignores you and resumes curling his fingers in you so deliciously you have to bite your lip to stay quiet.

“That’s so pathetic it’s cute,” he giggles, and now you’re even more curious. There’s no way it would be Eric, not in the mood he’s been in, you think he would punch something if anyone tried to call him pathetic right now. “Oh, you poor little thing. I’m out of town right now, so you’re stuck there on your own.” He clicks his tongue at the other person’s reply. “I meant I wasn’t too busy to hear how you’re touching yourself for me and the things you’re thinking about me in explicit detail, so do go on.”

You widen your eyes again, pulse thrumming with the excitement of how dirty it all is, and with Sunwoo’s movements quickening you only hope that whoever’s on the other end of the line can’t hear your breathing quicken with it. Or maybe you hope they do.

He suddenly stops as the other person keeps talking, and next thing you know he’s propping his phone up between his face and shoulder and pulling at your pants. When you start to shimmy them off, he reaches for his own, pulling them down just enough to let his cock spring free, already dribbling precum.

“What am I doing? What do you think I’m doing, cutie? I’m taking my cock out. You sound so fucking delicious for me, baby.”

You don’t need to be told what to do, shifting back to meet him and hovering over his length, earning a hiss from him as he leans back and lets you rub the tip against your entrance. “Yeah? You gonna take me?” he pants into the phone, meeting your eye in the mirror as he says it. You sink down on him all at once and the moan he lets out is a guttural one. “Fuck, good boy.”

You hear a whine on the other end and it’s so tempting to just snatch the phone out of his hand and put it on speaker, let you in on the action too, but it doesn’t take long for him to practically read your mind and do it himself.

“Oh? You want to show me? Let me see your cute little cock then, princess.”

“Fuck,” the voice on the other end whimpers, broken and airy, and it becomes a video call request that he accepts with only audio on his end first. You aren’t sure who you were expecting to see, but when the screen comes up with the same man who you met stumbling out of your apartment last week, leaning back on the bed with cock in hand, ass plugged with a pretty pink gem, and a thin sheen of sweat sticking a few strands of his long, silky hair to his face.

“Mmm, so pretty for me, Jisung-ah,” he coos, voice shaky from how you slowly move up and down on him – or try to, but he stops you with his free hand and gives you a stern look you know is because he wanted you not to do any of the work. “You like showing off for me?”

He nods profusely, fucking his fist and scrambling down to reach for the plug to fuck it into his hole too. “Love it, love your eyes on me, fuck, wanna see you too, please, I bet you look so hot right now hyung…”

As far as you know, the two of them are the same age, and you suppose that’s why the honourific brings such a smug look to Sunwoo’s face. “’Hyung’? Not wanting to be my pretty little princess anymore, hmm?”

Jisung whines again even more needily, the lighting in his room is dim through the closed curtains but just enough evening sunlight peeks through to reflect off the wetness oozing from his tip as he lazily strokes it. “A-Ah, c’mon, please…”

“Please what?”

He shifts around on the bed a bit with his eyes squeezed shut, pulling an arm over his face to hide in his elbow while he mumbles, “Please, oppa.”

“That’s a good little girl,” Sunwoo rasps lowly, the praise making Jisung’s ministrations quicker, and you have to bite your hand to muffle a laugh at the sheer humiliation of it all, and just how easy it was. How perfectly pathetic. “Want me to put on a show for you?”

You know the real question he’s asking and to whom; do you want him to see us like this? You nod at him through the mirror and tap the camera icon for him, pointing the camera ahead so you he could see you both.

“Good thing you caught me at such a good time, then. You have such a good show to enjoy.”

Jisung freezes up, eye blowing wide at where his phone is propped up on something in front of him, and for a second you think he’s going to dive for it to hang up but instead he throws his head back so hard against the headboard you think it would have hurt, gasping and whimpering as he comes all over his fist, hips thrashing wildly and thick ropes of white painting his slutty little muscle tee, even from where it’s pulled up over his abs.

“What the– what the– what the fuck, Sunwoo!” he whines, still frantically jerking his cock and twitching violently at the overstim, burying his cute little face in his arm again, too embarrassed to face you himself but not too embarrassed to cum to it. Or maybe it was the embarrassment that made him cum in the first place. “You– you said you weren’t busy–“

“I never said I was alone, baby. Besides, we weren’t busy. Were we, prince? Just hangin’ out, right?”

“No, not busy. Just relaxing.” You flash a smarmy grin right back at him, grinding down on his cock with an over-exaggerated sigh, throwing your head back onto his shoulder again and spreading your legs to make sure Jisung was getting a nice view. After all, he deserves a treat for the humiliation the two of you just put him through.

“You– You’re a dick,” Jisung pants out, slowly pulling his arm away to pull his boxers back on. “Can’t believe you made me say that in front of him–“

“You love my dick,” Sunwoo sassed him back, passing you the phone so he could grab your hips and take over, pulling you up and thrusting up into you slowly. “Needa split you open on it again. Maybe they can watch. Don’t worry, they didn’t hear our whole conversation, only the video call – I’m sure he’d love to see it for himself instead, though.”

You moan, rubbing yourself as Sunwoo bounces you up and down and trying to keep the camera steady, “Oh, fuck I sure would. Would you be my good little girl, too?”

“You’re both so mean,” he complains again, and you find yourself quite liking the little pout on his face when he does it. He can’t seem to tear his eyes away, however, reaching forward to grab his phone from whatever it was propped up on his bed to get a better look. “Fuck… you look so hot like that though…”

Showing off a little more, you pull yourself off Sunwoo so Jisung could see his cock in all it’s glory, thick and veiny and oh-so-picturesque, and simply rub your pussy against it, both gasping when your clit and his head collide.

“Fuck, hold on,” Sunwoo mutters, reaching down to his luggage on the floor and rummaging for a bit before pulling out a sleek bullet vibe and turning it on, pressing it to your dick and slipping back inside. You both groan, as Sunwoo angles the vibe so he could feel its vibrations against his shaft too, and starts fucking into you with reckless abandon. “Shit, baby, so good–“

“Hah– thought you said you wouldn’t exert yourself– woah, slow down, I can’t keep the camera steady,” you huff, Sunwoo reluctantly obliging and taking the phone away to prop it up on the dresser and change it to the front facing camera towards the bed, pulling you back down with him and bending you over.

“Fuck that,” he growls, all his patience from before melted away with every rough snap of his hips, “I’m gonna fuck all that stress outta you, I’m gonna fuck you into this mattress even if it fucking kills me tomorrow.”

You are reduces to cries instead of words as he does exactly that – frankly you have no idea where all this energy comes from after a long day of dancing, but you figure he won’t have his usual stamina this time – craning your head over your should to peek at his phone on the dresser, where Jisung watches with his lip pulled between his teeth and an obvious shaking from below the screen.

“Let us see,” you gasp out, eyes rolling back into your head as Sunwoo angles his hips just right and makes you see stars, but you force yourself to focus on the screen just enough to see him lift his phone higher and reveal him stroking his cock again, still covered in cum, cutely small in his hand.

“Y-You guys are so fucking hot it’s unfair,” he sighs, body twitching hard enough to shake the camera with every other movement. “Can’t believe you fuck raw too. Do you cum inside? Can I see it? Please, wanna see him dripping, fuck, wish that was me.”

“Yeah? Wish this was you, huh?” Sunwoo pulls you up on your knees with a firm yank on your hair, pulling a moan from you, and you don’t have much of a choice but to let him use you as he wants as he fills you up so fucking good. “Want me to cum in your ass and knock you up, huh? Want me to breed your cute little hole? Ooh, he clenched around me at that, I didn’t know you liked that one, prince.”

You whine a little in embarrassment, but mostly hold it together. “Y-Yeah well, it’s a new one,” you mutter, grasping for anything to ground you as Sunwoo keeps you propped up, but as soon as he lets you back down to lean on the mattress again, the vibe is back between your legs and you whimper.

“Cuuute, see, you’re not the only one who has embarrassing kinks, Jisung, looks like both of you wanna be all knocked up, hm? Want me to put a baby in you, baby?”

“No,” you rasp, ignoring the way his words send a wave of heat down south anyway. “Wanna put a baby in him.” You point towards the camera, and Jisung whines so erotically you think he would do just as well on cam as Hyunjin or San would.

“That’s so fucking hot fuck– please, please, please, breed me, knock me up, both of you, fuck…” He’s fucking the a dildo in his ass now, so frantically it keeps slipping out, “Need you both inside me, fuck, get me pregnant…”

The two of you chuckle at how far gone he is, willing to say all these embarrassing things so openly to the same people he spent so long arguing with the other week, that bitter resentment warped into something else entirely and were you not getting your brains fucked out you would want to ask Sunwoo how the fuck he did it, but he seems intent on not giving you the chance to form a proper sentence.

“Fuck– yes– shit I think I’m gonna–“ your breathing quickens, your core tightens, and one strangled groan from Sunwoo behind you and another few perfectly angled snaps of his hips sends you falling over the edge, the high pulsing through you like electricity.

“That’s it baby, thaaat’s it, fuck you’re so pretty when you cum for me,” Sunwoo mutters, bending over you and tilting your head to steal a kiss as he follows you over, moaning against your lips as he paints your walls white.

Jisung is still panting and fucking himself with his toy while the two of you catch your breath, and the sheer agony on his face is so fucking delightful you find yourself wanting to be so much meaner to him if given the chance.

“No, no, please,” he begs, “don’t stop yet, ahh, I’m close, please.”

He sure seems to love the show, so it’s a good thing you and Sunwoo both love to perform.

“Babe, move with me, lemme get the camera–“

You and Sunwoo both awkwardly shuffle to the edge of the bed where Sunwoo can reach his phone again, taking it off the dresser and flipping the camera back to the front so he can give your little voyeur on the phone a close-up view of where your bodies meet.

“Oh, fuck–“

“Don’t look away for even a second, baby. You don’t wanna miss a second of this.”

Sunwoo slowly pulls himself out, shiny and wet and covered in you, and when you clench down around nothing, he has a perfect shot of his cum dripping from your hole. The sounds Jisung is making on the other end of the line are beyond gone, fucked out and on the brink, and when Sunwoo collects his dripping cum on his fingers and pushes them back inside you, you hear his voice crack.

“Fuck–! Cum- Cumming- fuck…!”

“That’s a good girl.” He puts the phone back in front of you so you both can enjoy the sight of Jisung spilling another load all over his chest, not even touching his cock as he simply milks his prostate with the toy inside him. Sunwoo is even mean enough to take screenshots, and you grin at him, “Send those to me.”

It takes him a long moment to recover from the intensity of his orgasm, chest heaving, covered in sweat and his own mess, but the most dazed smile takes over his features as he covers half his face in disbelief.

“Fuck,” he exhales, picking the camera back up to hover above his face, “You guys are the hottest fucking… most insufferably horrible people I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah?” You raise a brow at him playfully, “Sounds like you like it, though.”

“Yeah, well,” he rolls his eyes, “Unfortunately for me that’s kinda my type. Dick hard one moment, wanting to punch you through a wall the next.”

“Don’t worry, I think Changbin already did the latter part for you!” Sunwoo chips in helpfully, so you elbow him in the shoulder. “See you on the battlefield next time, cutie.”

Jisung snorts, and you see him slipping out of his dick-drunk trance. “Is it really a battle or is it a slaughter?” He catches his tongue between cheekily at that, and you feel heat flare up of a familiarly ambiguous kind.

“We’ll make it a slaughter by the time we’re done with you,” you vow, and Sunwoo has to put a hand on your shoulder to remind you to save it and not get too heated. “You aren’t ready for what we have in store for the next round.”

“More provoking lyrics and slutty outfits? I think I can take it. Yes, innuendo intended, I could and would take you both – now I gotta get cleaned up, so. See ya later.”

It takes a second for you to recover from the whiplash of him bouncing between cocky and confident, and needy and pathetic, back and forth between only a few sentences, but you are quickly starting to understand what Seungmin meant about him. You exchange glances with Sunwoo and shrug.

“Still stressed out?”

“His switch-up at the end wasn’t that good for my stress levels, but I think I’m mostly alright,” you laugh, and Sunwoo laughs with you, then raises a suggestive brow.

“Sit on my face about it?”

“God, you’re the best. I’m gonna suck your soul out your dick about it.”

Eric looks up and all he can see is Felix looking down at him.

He wants to punch a fucking hole in the wall, shatter glass, snap something in half. He does not delude himself into thinking he is not an angry kind of person; he is, and he knows it. Still, lately he finds his nerves have been grated even more than usual, and he’d be a fool to not know why – it’s Felix. Of course it’s Felix. He just didn’t think it’d get him like this.

They broke up on good terms. That’s what he keeps drilling into his own head, over and over like he would forget otherwise. It was a mutual agreement; they weren’t working out. Eric wanted to see Felix a lot more than Felix could see him, and Felix didn’t want Eric to feel like he was constantly being put on the backburner, so they broke up. Figured that it just was the right person, wrong time.

Right person, wrong time.

He keeps telling himself that, over and over, as he goes through the choreography again, and again, and again, long after the rest of the band got sick of his shit and left him in the makeshift studio. He wants to punch the mirror hard enough to shatter it.

Right person, wrong time.

He regrets how much he held onto the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he could wait for him. Maybe there could be a right time, if he was patient. Like a fucking fool, he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time he held him, kissed him, or touched him again. And it wasn’t – so why does it feel like it only made it worse? Felix was exactly like he remembered, only with more tattoos and piercings, dark hair, a sharper jawline, broader shoulders, and a bit more attitude. But he was still Felix, he was still his Felix, still the Felix who crumbles for someone with lots of confidence, who can’t lie, still the Felix who pokes his tongue in his cheek when he’s riled up, his Felix who’s breath hitches when someone leans in close, who gulps when he’s nervous, who’s voice jumps up in pitch when he gets filled up-

“Missed me that much?”

He keeps playing that night over and over. The song plays again, he twists and turns and jumps and hits, but all he can see is Felix and you all over him. He missed him. He missed him so fucking badly, when he really did think he had moved on. He has you now, he has the band, and that was more than enough for him – he even stopped dating because whatever it is you guys have going on was always just so much better. Hell, even if Felix came crawling back to him on his hands and knees to apologise and asked to get back together again, Eric doesn’t even think he would say yes. Not if it meant giving up what you guys have.

He still fucking misses him.

The choreography is intense. He pops, locks, perfects his body line, practices his flip, lands on one knee just a bit too wobbly for comfort; but while the music still plays, the energetic and intense trap beat Kevin made just for him, he doesn’t get back up. He falls forward, hands on the polished wooden floors, and cringes as it comes back wet – it’s only then when he realises he’s crying. He’s crying onto the floor of his dance studio while his kick-ass battle song plays and he just feels so fucking pathetic, because why is he even crying over this? Why is he crying over someone who was never truly his? Why is he even crying over someone who didn’t even really wrong him?

Not until now, at least. Not in their relationship. Unless the reason he was so busy back then was because he was making another dance crew with his other friends and he decided he would rather give up Force and Eric along with it, like Eric suspects, when if he wanted to sing and rap that badly he knows Eric would have let him join the runaways. He’d even fit with their namesake too, having ditched his family home in the middle of the night as soon as he turned eighteen; he knew Eric would have loved to have him here.

But of course, he was too busy. Not too busy for Stray Kids, just too busy for Force, and too busy for him. As they always were. As everyone always fucking is. History has a habit of repeating itself until you learn your lesson but he just does not understand the lesson needing to be learnt – what does he need to do to make them stay? What does he need to do to be someone’s first priority, to not be constantly brushed aside? What does he need to do to be worthy of the kind of intense devotion he gives everyone he cares about? Eric supposes that was always his weakness; loving more than he was ever loved back. Everyone would love him, but not nearly as much as he loved them, when push came to shove. Everyone except you and the band.

What he just doesn’t get, is why you guys just can’t get that. You seemed to understand enough that coming to participate in a band contest as a glorified dance crew – a dance crew, like the one he left – with his cool new friends when he knew how important the competition was to you guys, was a cold fucking move at worst and a nonsensical one at best. They insulted you, punched you in the fucking face, insulted your work, and you just go and suck their dicks about it? Go and suck Felix’s dick about it? You know what he means to him. You know he isn’t over him. But it seems like just about fucking everybody is willing to bend over backwards for the golden boy and his pretty freckles and award-winning smile that Eric fell for so long ago.

“Fuck. Fucking fuck!”

Eric knows exactly why you like him so much. He knows because he still fucking likes him. He knows because when he smirks at you like that, and he still wants to kiss him too. He still remembers how soft his lips are, and that they taste like caramel because he’s always drinking those sickeningly sweet excuses for coffees that might as well be milkshakes. But he just can’t do it. He can’t just kiss him like they’re still in love when he is coming and taking over everything that was ever fucking important to him. Everything he still cares about. Dance, music, you, his friends. But it doesn’t include him anymore, it never was fucking about him. Not anymore, it’s never about him anymore. Even now, at his family’s holiday house, leading his supposed dance boot camp, the rest of you are in the lodge playing board games without him because you said you needed a break and he’s been pushing you too hard.

If he can keep going, why can’t you? Why is he the only one taking this seriously? What happened to trusting him? You said you let him lead this week so he can see that you trust and value his input, but you guys just aren’t listening.

More than anything, he just wants to go home. He’s tired, mentally and physically, and he just wants things to go back to the way things were before the battle. Home, not the apartment, but in a cuddle puddle with the six of you when none of you are mad at each other, staring at the ceiling while the starry sky projector you bought lights up the room with colour.

But he knows better than to think you will agree to back out now. Hell, as much as he wants to, he wouldn’t let you, either; the controversy has put both you and your rival band in the spotlight like never before, and if you all want to achieve your dreams of being able to do music as a career and tour the world, you need this. He needs this. He’ll be damned if his shady ex-boyfriend gets in the way of that.

No more distractions, he decides, getting up and wiping away his tears. One more time, from the top.

“Eric?”

When he looks toward the doorway and sees the solemn expression Kevin gives him, holding a plate of freshly cooked food in hand, he feels whatever wall he just built up come crumbling down instantly. “Kevin…”

Kevin must be able to tell that he was just crying, because he sets down tonight’s meal on the pool table pushed aside to make room, and sweeps Eric into a crushing hug, which, for Kevin, isn’t the most common of gestures. Eric hugs him back and buries his face in his neck, not wanting to look at him. Not wanting to say anything. Not even wanting to hear anything. Kevin speaks anyway.

“We’re all really worried about you, y’know?”

“Not really,” Eric sniffles, and he hates how pathetic it sounds. “No one’s listening to me.”

Kevin tuts and pulls back slightly to frown at him, but Eric doesn’t look up. He can’t bear to meet his eyes. “Eric, we’re not listening because you’re being unreasonable. The week’s deadline doesn’t suddenly give our bodies any more endurance than they already have. We’re not all built like you!”

“I’m sick of fighting, Kev,” Eric sighs, and Kevin runs a hand through his hair soothingly.

“Then don’t fight. How about we go eat and head to bed early? It’s been a long day.”

Eric wants to argue again, despite just saying he is sick of arguing. He does not want to be coddled like an angry toddler throwing a tantrum, but that’s exactly how he feels; unheard, begrudgingly comforted just so he can calm down and go back to normal. He thinks he wants things to go back to normal more than the rest of you combined. Normal, back when it didn’t feel like all his bandmates were looking so far down at him like everyone else.

He bites his tongue and redirects it.

“How about I eat you instead? To de-stress, of course.”

Please let me have this, Eric pleads silently, hidden poorly behind a weak smirk. He grabs Kevin’s hips and starts tugging him towards the couch pushed up to the side of the room. Let me have you, let me feel you.

Kevin sees his request for what it is; a plea for intimacy, more than sex. A plea for trust, connection.

He sees it for what it is, and with a small sigh, grabs his face and connects their lips.

By the time you and Sunwoo finish cleaning up and re-gaining the feeling in your legs, a bonfire is crackling outside, while Wooyoung and Mingi are manning a fragrant barbecue. Eric being there is a welcome sight – just the fact that he is no longer cooping himself up inside the practice room or his room is already promising, but him being around the rest of the band willingly is even better. You turn to smile at Sunwoo and he’s already smiling back at you – he’s probably thinking the same thing.

“Well look who finally–“ You are cut off by Sunwoo stepping past you and shoving you roughly in the side to sit down next to Eric on a log and clap a hand on his shoulder.

“Glad to see you back, bro.”

Eric smiles.

You can’t even complain at the shove as it was completely called for; Sunwoo is right, what Eric needs now is probably not your usual attitude and instead more gentle appreciation, so you follow his lead and sit on his other side, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Sorry. Missed you.”

He doesn’t seem to need the clarification on what you meant, giving that you have been seeing each other most of every day the whole week, but he returns your peck with a quiet thanks and goes back to staring into the dancing flames.

You have half the mind to leave him alone, since he clearly does not feel like talking, but you figured that if he really wanted to be left alone, he would be in his room or the makeshift studio again, so his decision to be here around you all was deliberate. So you stay next to him, pressed shoulder to shoulder just to give him that grounding point of contact – you’re there. You’re with him, next to him. If he wants to speak, he can, but if he doesn’t, you’ll still be there anyway.

He leans his head on your shoulder, and you feel your heart soar. He’s leaning on you. Both figuratively and literally, he’s leaning on you, he’s allowing himself to be soft with you even if he might still be mad at you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders and press another kiss to the top of his head, to let him know you heard him, even if he didn’t say anything. You hear him.

Sunwoo gets up to grab his food when Wooyoung calls that dinner’s ready, but Eric doesn’t move, and you won’t either until he does, but you give his shoulder a little squeeze.

“You gonna eat anything?”

“Not hungry.”

“Eric…”

“I’ll eat later, I promise,” he insists, taking your free hand in his and playing with it gently, intertwining your fingers. “Just… not right now.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, not wanting to find any more reasons to disagree with him for now. “What do you want to do right now, then?”

He has to think about it, still playing with your hands as he does, and it’s cute how it seems to soothe him somewhat. “I want… to talk this out, or whatever. I’m tired of being angry. I just. Don’t really know how to start.”

You look over his shoulder to gesture to the others to come in, and you all find yourselves seated on the log by the bonfire or the dirt in front of it, not wanting to be any further from Eric than necessary. “Start wherever you feel like, baby. We’re listening.”

He sighs, then tries to gather the words to start, then sighs again even louder. He lets go of your hand to drop his head into his own.

“I don’t know. I’m just, I’m tired, I’m upset, I miss Felix, I don’t want to miss Felix, I’m angry at him for doing this to me, I’m angry that you’re taking such an interest in him, I’m scared of being replaced, and I feel so fucking inferior about everything I ever had any confidence in and I just want it all to stop.”

“Okay, that’s a good start,” you encourage him, stroking his back rhythmically while he let it all out. “I had a feeling it was something along those lines.”

“It’s alright to be scared and angry,” Mingi pipes up helpfully, leaning over to give Eric a reassuring head pat.

“Felix did do you pretty dirty,” Wooyoung adds, to which the others nod.

Eric sighs again, running his hands through his hair. “I’m scared,” he repeats. “I’m scared we’ll lose. And I don’t know how I’ll handle that if we do. Because that’d be… feels almost fucking symbolic, in a way, of him just. Ruining everything I worked towards. That’s why I keep drilling you guys and being even more of a perfectionist than usual and – god, they’re fucking perfect. They’re incredible performers. I still don’t think their act should be allowed as a band but they’re so fucking good at what they do I can’t help but think we can’t really compete.”

“But we can!” San chimes in, shifting closer to make sure Eric is looking at him. “Prior to this week I didn’t even know how to dance beyond a few TikTok challenges, now I’m doing choreography you made for a dance crew! Half of you guys are practically professionals, and this might be one of the best songs Kevin’s produced yet, and the lyrics–“

“Have some more faith in us,” you interrupt, a little too enthusiastic, “we’re fucking good at what we do, too. We won last year for a reason, remember? This stage is absolutely gonna blow their socks off.”

“It’s not you guys I’m really worried about,” Eric admits quietly, still refusing to look any of you in the eye. He doesn’t need to. You already see his real feelings written all over him.

“You’re worried you might fuck up the whole thing.”

His silence is the only confirmation you need.

“Oh, Eric.” You pull him in for a tighter hug, which everyone else joins in until you are all awkwardly hunched over on the log and almost fall over, making you all giggle. “You’re not going to fuck up anything, okay? You’re going to be the star of the show.”

“I don’t know… I don’t think my choreography can match theirs. I’m mostly trained in hip-hop, but Hyunjin adds a contemporary twist to theirs, and Lino has such insane body control and–“

“And you have a swagger onstage that they could only dream of,” Kevin finishes, leaning over to put a finger to Eric’s lips, and he finally looks up from the ground to meet him. “Do you really think band judges are going to be looking for mixtures of dance genres and technical precision? They’re here for the music and they’re here for the spectacle. I’m pretty sure the reason why Stray Kids are getting as far as they are, is more to do with their production quality, live vocals, and stage presence. Are you really gonna doubt us on those fronts? This isn’t a dance tournament.”

Eric doesn’t have a response for that, playing with his own hands as he processes it all, so you take one into your own so he could go back to fidgeting with yours if he so desired.

“You’re right, I can’t doubt your guys’ songs and vocals like that. That wouldn’t be fair. Suppose it also wasn’t fair how hard I pushed your bodies, too.”

“Or your own,” Wooyoung reminds him, getting up to grab a now-cool plate of food to bring back to him and plop it in his lap. “You don’t need to be so hard on yourself, either. Whether or not we win the next round, which I have in good confidence that we will, we are still incredible fucking performers. Stray cats can’t take that from us. It’s not like we can really lose – everyone else in the competition has been an absolute non-event, dude. No one’s talking about them. We’re basically guaranteed second place at the very least, and that’s still a win.”

Eric pokes at the meat on his plate with his fork, trying to muster up the appetite. “I don’t want to be second place to anyone. Not anymore.”

You realise what he really means by that, and he doesn’t mean the competition at all. It was never about the battle, it was about the war – the ongoing war raging in his head of his own self-worth and the way his past threatens it. How he can never be certain that he won’t have to fight for his right to exist, his right to be loved – and you get it. You really do. So deeply, even, that you have bonded over it in the past, and that is exactly how you know that he will stick by you till the bitter end, and you just wish he could feel the same. You sigh and massage the back of his neck.

“Eric, sweetheart, you could never be replaced. Not by Felix, not by the homeless children, not by anyone. We wouldn’t be here right now if you could!”

He seems to only shrink in size as he curls up and munches on his food. “Why are you so obsessed with Felix, then?”

He turns to you.

“Obsessed? With Felix?” It strikes you as a little odd. “What do you mean obsessed with him? He hurt you, Eric. I can’t forgive him for that. You know how ride or die I am for the people I care about and the six of you are at the absolute top of that list. I’m fucking around with him because I want him to feel as small and pathetic as he’s made you feel, and I want it to fucking haunt him how he can’t help but think of it when it’s just him and his right hand. I want to drive him insane until he realises he fumbled the best thing to ever happen to him.”

“And Chan? You seem awfully interested in him too. And how interested he is in Felix.”

You are not sure whether to feel hurt or understanding at Eric’s accusations. You know he’s insecure and you know he needs your reassurance, but you don’t like the way he’s painting you in this whole situation. “Chan has a weak spot for Felix and it’s so easy to prey on. Why wouldn’t I? He’s the core of their group. He calls the shots and it seems like to some degree, everyone relies on him. You destabilise him, you destabilise all of them. Besides, we just have beef from leader to leader, creative to creative. I know we got invested in this whole rivalry for your sake at first, Eric, but it’s gotten pretty personal now. That doesn’t mean we’re moving past you now. It means we’re all taking them on together.”

“You make the battle of the bands sound like some huge psyop mission,” Kevin snorts, finishing off his plate. “We should just not worry about them and focus on making our performance the best we can be. I’m sure Chan and Felix and all of them will leave us alone if we just leave them be.”

“No way!”

You, Eric, Wooyoung, and Sunwoo, all pipe up at the same time, looking at Kevin incredulously.

“I don’t want to leave them alone, I want them to wish they could be us so bad,” Wooyoung huffs, crossing his arms. “C’mon, even you enjoyed putting Jupiter in their places last year. It’s fun to stick it to some bitches who deserve it!”

Kevin goes quiet, then waves his arm dismissively. “Yeah alright, whatever. Have your fun with it then, I guess.”

“Maybe I need to be having more fun with it,” Eric chuckles, poking at his dinner some more. “I mean, tag teaming him at the Prism was pretty fun. I guess I just got… really into my own head about it.”

“Attaboy,” you cheer, giving him an encouraging slap on the back, “that’s the spirit! Obviously you don’t have to fuck around with them if you don’t want to. But y’know. You can always annoy them more.”

“I think I’d rather fuck you in front of them and have them watch,” Eric throws out casually, making your eyebrows shoot up and your still aching core throb. “That’d be pretty hot. Wonder if they’d agree to it, though.”

You shrug. “I dunno Eric, we can be pretty damn convincing, I think. Maybe we should invite them to our dressing room next round. Or something. We’ll work it out. But before we get to any more plotting and scheming… how do you feel? Are you like… okay? Or at least better?”

“Better,” he nods, and you feel reassured in that he didn’t have to stop to think about it. “I don’t know. I know I was projecting my own insecurities onto you guys. And I know I was pushing you guys too far. I just needed to feel… like I held any weight here. Like I was still important to you guys.”

“Of course you’re still important to us,” Mingi breathes out, visibly saddened at the thought that Eric even had to doubt it. “I’m sorry you couldn’t feel it enough.”

“I do now, at least.” He cracks a small smile, and exchanges a knowing look with Kevin that makes you think Sunwoo was onto something when he said he’d let the keyboardist handle him. “I know that was the point of this entire trip. And I’m sorry all I used it for was to try and find ways to prove that you guys didn’t care as much as I did. I’ll stop projecting. At least, I’ll try.”

“That’s all we can ask for, Eric,” San reminds him, getting up to give him another hug. Sunwoo has to stabilise his plate so it doesn’t get shoved off his lap. “You can tell us if you’re feeling bad or insecure about things, y’know? Just please don’t get angry with us. You know we can talk things out calmly and you’re scary when you yell.”

Eric laughs at the audible pout in San’s voice without needing to see it over his shoulder. He pats him on the back affectionately. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll try not to. I’m sorry again. We can take tomorrow off, I think. Enjoy the holiday house while we’re here, spend the day by the lake, maybe. It’ll be fun.”

“Sounds like exactly what we all need!” Kevin agrees, clapping his hands together. “I unironically think that our practice will be even better if we don’t practice for a day. Let our bodies catch up with it all.”

“For sure,” Wooyoung agrees, “it’s always like that. In the meantime, I think we should all take turns schlobbing your knob for being such a great dance teacher.”

That makes everyone burst out laughing, but Wooyoung simply doubles down. “What? I mean it! I’ll give you the sloppiest toppy bro, the Gluck Gluck Triple Twist–“

“I get it, I get it,” Eric howls, trying to recover from the sudden humorous outburst. “God, that gave me whiplash. Yeah, sure, if you’re offering, I won’t say no.”

“It’s whatever you want, Eric,” you tell him, leaning on his shoulder this time, “after all, this is still meant to be your trip.”

The smallest but most genuine of smiles pulls at the corners of his lips, and he presses them to your crown appreciatively. “Thanks. All of you. You guys… mean a lot to me.”

Sunwoo notices the tears glistening on his cheeks before you do, and instantly leans in to kiss them off, and before you know it, everyone is swarming him to try and express their own forms of affection to a point that’s downright comical in it’s impracticality, knocking him off the log in your onslaught of touch and kisses.

“Ahaha, alright, alright! I get it, you guys too– ahahaha, fuckin hell, you guys are too much.”

Once again you hear what he really says, and it’s loud and clear;

I love you all so much.

a/n: i feel like the apologies for the wait get more and more ironic the longer i go between updates, but i really am sorry! 2023 was a year of all time for me and i was just speedrunning life events but it's okay i think im normal now. ish. im writing again at least! i slaved over this chapter for MONTHS because i kept changing it and hating parts of it no matter what i did so i just sat down and finished it and decided i would not proofread or reread at all and just go with whatever i come up with so i can finally get this chapter DONE or else it might have just sat in my wips rotting for another year. so apologies if you notice the dip in quality, but hopefully you wont LMFAOOoo

anyway the questionnaire is still open and even more relevant than ever so any responses are so so so appreciated and help me write future chapters! feel free to fill it out more than once if you have already a while back. LMFAO. anyway. enjoy! happy new year! jskdgfkskdh

#what goes on in neverland #poly stray kids x reader #poly the boyz x reader #poly ateez x reader #stray kids smut #the boyz smut #stray kids x male reader #male reader #transmasc reader #nonbinary reader #kim sunwoo x reader #han jisung x reader #the boyz x male reader #stray kids series #the boyz series #ateez series #diverseinsertsknet #yeah im so fuckin sick of tagging honestly pls just rb i beg

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