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It's a testament to how much Eddie loves Chrissy that he's here right now. He could think of a thousand more enjoyable ways to spend his afternoon (starting with re-reading Guards! Guards! and ending with plucking his nose hairs one by one), but. Chrissy asked him to come, so here he is.
At a fucking sports game.
As always, they look like an odd pair: him in black leather and untamable hair, all tatted and pierced and jingling when he walks due to the chains; her in a flowy pastel skirt and an absurdly peppy ponytail held up by a glittery scrunchie, bouncing forth with excitement. He catches several meathead frat bro types leering at her on their way in, and sidles closer every time, glowering at them with murderous intent. She's not here to get hit on, asshole, she's here for the game. The bros back off every time, nodding at him like they're congratulating him on the catch. Offensive, but better than them trying to challenge him. The perks of being tall and looking scary.
So. Eddie's not actually upset about being here – he loves spending time with Chrissy and is fine with being her man-repellent. He simply wishes he could be her man-repellent somewhere else. He didn't even know what kind of game they were going to until they arrived at the arena (basketball, which he guessed but he didn't know). That's how little he cares about this.
But, you know, anything for her. And while teenage him would claim this is the worst experience of his life, twenty-something him is mature enough to admit it's not. Like, the snacks are edible. The seats are kind of comfortable. Their spots in the audience seem pretty okay. They're in the middle, close enough to see the court but not so close he'll fear getting a basketball in the face. And they're in a calmer section, too. No obnoxious fanatics around, just a family of five in front of them, the kids well-behaved, and a group of old ladies behind them, wearing what looks like home-knitted merch. To Chrissy's left they've got the stairs, and to Eddie’s right sits a mouthwateringly hot dude and his girlfriend.
Eddie sure knows what to be distracted by during the boring parts (aka all of the parts). It's so kind of the universe to sneak him some eye candy in these trying times. The dude is seriously attractive – ripped and naturally tan, in a form-fitting wardrobe and carefully styled hair, and with a killer profile that's the perfect blend of sharp jawline and plush lips, of strong nose and long lashes.
Hot Dude is actually so hot Eddie would consider shooting his shot if not for the girlfriend. Alas, she exists and must really love her boyfriend since she's here despite her obvious disinterest. Hot Dude is explaining something about the game that Eddie remembers Chrissy's telling him previously, while the girlfriend is nodding along, eyes glazing over.
She honestly annoys Eddie. She snagged this living marble statue, this modern Adonis, and can't even bother to fake engagement about his interests? Ma'am, showing up is simply the first step; you're already here and might as well commit. But no, she's just tossing out the occasional "uh-huh" when Hot Dude pauses for breath, sipping her pop and shifting in her seat, the placard between her legs knocking from knee to knee.
The game starts soon enough, and Eddie stops paying attention to the bored girlfriend. Not to focus on the game instead, oh no, but to focus on Chrissy's reactions to the game. Her enthusiasm is infectious, as is Hot Dude's, and Eddie finds himself having fun being the meat of this jock sandwich.
Approximately halfway through the game (he thinks? How long is a basketball game supposed to be anyway), the kiss cam starts. Five couples pop up on the screen, all of them lockig lips to roaring applause. It's kinda cute, if you ignore the heteronormativity and consent issues of it all.
Then the sixth couple is revealed: it's Hot Dude and Bored Girlfriend.
What are the odds, huh? Kudos to the camera operator for finding the most attractive couple in the crowd. But also fuck them for making Eddie watch his wet dream kiss someone else on a fucking jumbotron.
Except Hot Dude gains a 'deer in headlights' expression when spotting himself on the screen; he shakes his head and waves his hands in an abortive gesture while chanting "No, no, no!"
Bored Girlfriend, on the other hand, looks more alive than ever before. Grabbing the placard between her legs, she holds it aloft for everyone to see. It's white with rainbow hearts and black letters proclaiming:
WE'RE GAY!
The arena bursts into surprised laughter, Hot Dude included. Between wheezes, Eddie hears him ask his Cool Lesbian friend "That's what it says?!"
Cool Lesbian cheerfully yells back that the possibility of this exact scenario is the only reason she agreed to tag along. And damn, Eddie might shoot his shot with her now. He needs more friends who are funny and have good taste in entertainment.
Above, the kiss cam slides to the Cool Lesbian's right, but stops when it reveals an older gentleman and his wife. The cam slides the other way instead.
For a split second, Eddie fears it'll go all the way to him and Chrissy – he'll have to borrow the sign, in that case! But the universe is throwing him all kinds of candy today, because it halts on him and Hot Dude.
Eddie turns to find Hot Dude already leaning against their shared armrest. He gives Eddie a searing once over and smiles – it's fucking blinding.
Hot Dude says, "Do you-"
Eddie grabs his face and plants one on him.
The audience cheers, Chrissy loudest of all.
Hot Dude laughs against Eddie's lips, the puffs of air from his nose hot on Eddie's skin. His hands are on Eddie's shoulders, respectful and steadying. Eddie doesn't do 'respectful', though. He's a proud attention whore. He's a performer. He leaves impressions.
Which is why he, without breaking the kiss, shifts to standing on his knees in his seat. Now towering over Hot Dude – and isn't that an idea to revisit in the shower – he tilts the guy's head back for easier access and licks along the seam of his mouth. Hot Dude obediently parts his lips, allowing Eddie to stick his tongue down the guy's throat. Hot Dude moans like they're in a porno, and if that alone didn't make Eddie's dick go from "oh, yeah?" to "oh, please!" then Hot Dude's muscular arm around Eddie's waist and his huge hand dipping into Eddie's back pocket to grope his ass sure do.
A much smaller hand smacking his shoulder blade is what makes him break the kiss, pulling away and gasping for air. Hot Dude gazes up at him; his face is flushed but his eyes are fiery. He slowly licks the saliva (Eddie's saliva) off his lips and gives Eddie a last squeeze, probably leaving fingerprint bruises on his ass cheek, before withdrawing.
Eddie is kind of in love.
"Eddie," Chrissy says, smacking him again. "There are kids here."
Ah. Right.
Luckily, the family of five in front of them is turned to the court, appearing blissfully unaware of the debauchery. However, the old ladies behind them are staring, half scandalized, half thrilled.
Eddie awards them a wink, the finale of the show, before sliding down into his seat. Hot Dude is already back in a proper sitting position, blush gone and not a hair out of place. Eddie himself is still hot enough that his sweat is steaming off him, and his pulse is racing. Unfair. Give him another minute and he'll make the preppy pretty boy into a lasting mess.
"My name's Steve, by the way," Hot Dude says, watching from the corner of his eye.
"I'm Eddie." He props his elbows on their armrest, pillowing his chin on his hands. "Soooo."
His meaning is implied, and understood; Steve smiles. Please, let it be an agreeing smile. Eddie has gotten laid in bar restrooms, movie theater restrooms, concert hall restrooms, coffee shop restrooms, restaurant restrooms, library restrooms, and one strip club restroom (though not with a stripper – he's not that good), but never a sports arena restroom. He'd like to try that.
"Sorry," Steve says, actually sounding it, too, "but I've been looking forward to this, so…"
He gestures at the basketball court. Oh yeah, the game.
"Right, I get it. I don't really care about the game."
"Saaaaaaame," the cool lesbian says over Steve's shoulder. Eddie so needs to be her friend.
Steve laughs. "Yeah. Me and Robin planned to eat after, though, if you want to come with?"
He jerks a thumb at the lesbian, who wiggles her fingers in a half-hearted wave.
"Yes!" Chrissy exclaims before Eddie can. "We'd love to! Hi, I'm Chrissy!"
The wave Robin gives her is a lot jauntier. Eddie would be jealous of how easily Chrissy endears herself to cool people, but he gets it. He especially gets it when, as Chrissy compliments Robin on how she coordinated her earrings and makeup with the color of her eyes, Robin giggles and blushes. He'd gush over them, if Steve hadn't leaned closer, stealing the air Eddie was about to breathe.
"It's just pizza or something. Nothing fancy," he murmurs, ignoring how someone on the court scores a goal that has the rest of the arena screaming.
Eddie swallows thickly, belly stirring when Steve follows the movement of his Adam's apple.
"That's fine. I'm not really a fancy guy."
"I think I gathered. I like that," Steve says, again sounding like he means it, his intonation warm and weirdly fond of this strange metalhead that pounced on him for an entire arena to see.
Fuck the restroom – Eddie might be getting laid in a bedroom for once.