Work Text:
“I can’t believe I have to wear this shit.” Eddie yelled from her bedroom, voice strained as she presumably struggled with whatever she was doing.
Steve sighed, fond and exasperated, from his place on the couch. “You don’t have to wear anything you’re not comfortable in-”
The bedroom door was thrown open with a bang. Footsteps marched down the hall, rattling the mugs along the walls with every thundering step, before his girlfriend appeared at the counter, still only half ready. She pointed at him, a pair of socks scrunched in her fist and her hair a mess of frizzy curls around her face and shoulders.
“You-” she hissed, dramatic as ever. “Are the one who implied my usual dress code wouldn’t cut it with you fancy-schmancy family, Stephen. ”
A fissure of guilt lanced through him. He hadn’t expected to make her feel self-conscious when he’d warned her about his family, but looking back he can see where he might have gone wrong there. Eddie wasn’t usually that worried about her appearance.
But, standing there in her unzipped black dress with unmatching earrings and a bare face, puffed up in indignation like an angry cat, he couldn’t understand what she could possibly be so self-conscious of.
She could go like that - barefoot and all - and he’d still walk into his cousin’s graduation dinner feeling like the luckiest guy there.
Steve tried to hide his smile in his palm, leaning forward to rest his elbow on his knee, but the sudden narrowing of her eyes told him it was too late.
Eddie set her hands on her hips. “What are you smiling at?”
“You’re just beautiful.”
Immediately, her neck went red and blotchy and she crossed her arms over her chest with an eye roll. “Don’t distract me with your seductive wiles, sir. I’m trying to be mad at you.”
Steve squawked, straightening up. “What’d I do?!”
“These panties have crawled halfway up my ass and I’m blaming you.”
“Then don’t wear panties?”
Eddie threw her hands in the air, hair flying when she tossed her head with the movement. “But if I wear boxers you’ll see the lines in the dress-” Finally she groaned, sinking to the floor in a rumpled pile of dress and frizzy curls, legs crossed like a little kid. “Being a girl is so hard.” She whined, voice muffled by her hands.
Steve smiled gently and got up, heading across the room to sit next to her and leaning back against the kitchen counter. “You do it really well though.”
She snorted, dragging her hands down her face to tug her eyelids down in that freaky way Steve hated. With her hands now framing her face on either side, she flicked her eyes to him, always so wide and bambie-like. “You’re just trying to butter me up.”
He hummed, reaching over to brush a chunk of hair behind her ear. “Maybe.”
Eventually they got off the floor, Eddie remaining entirely unhelpful while Steve hauled her to her feet. She kept her face buried in his shoulder, leaning her entire body weight against him like a limp noodle. “I can’t reach my zip by the way.”
So Steve reached around and did it for her.
After that, he was allowed to sit on her bed while she finished getting ready.
He watched her hop about on one foot, pulling socks on and rifling through a drawer at the same time. They were running out of time, technically, but Steve had no intentions of rushing her, already distracted watching Eddie put her makeup on. She didn't bother covering up the scars winding across her cheek, just dabbed moisturizer over the raised flesh and made silly faces at herself in the mirror while she mouthed along to the song playing on the tape deck. Something by Judas Priest, he was pretty sure.
She scrubbed furiously at her eyelids before stepping back to blink at her reflection, squinting, and going in again with the eyeliner pencil. It was a fascinating little routine that Steve found himself obsessed with.
“Alright, I’m done.” She announced, a few minutes later, shoving her feet into her Reebok's. “We can go whenever.”
“Awesome,” Steve swung himself off the bed and stretched. “Because we’re late.”
When Eddie yawned, she did it unapologetically. Jaw cracked open to show all of her teeth, nose scrunched to one side. With her hair tied back (courtesy of a scrunchie left behind in Steve’s car from one of the other girls), Steve got a front row seat to the whole show, including the little sniff she always did right after. It was something he found stupidly endearing.
His family, less so, if the way his Aunty Lauren was staring at them was anything to go off. He smiled politely and waved, catching Eddie’s attention from where she’d been squinting up at the chandelier.
When she saw him waving, she followed suit, a polite little finger waggle that spurred his aunty into motion.
“Stephen,” She greeted, pressing a waxy kiss to his cheek and bringing a wave of rose-perfume with her. “Lovely to see you, your father wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”
Her eyes, a dazzling blue, landed on Eddie beside him and her smile shifted into something a little less real but no less polite as she took in the sneakers and the denim vest. “And who have you brought with you?”
Eddie smiled, one of her hands twitching at her side until Steve shifted closer so she could hook her fingers through his belt loop. The other hand was held out in the theatrical version of asking for a handshake which was a lot more spread-fingers than Steve’s father would ever allow.
“Éowyn Munson, ma’am. His girlfriend.”
Lauren blinked in surprise, but took her hand, something a little more real bleeding into her smile as they shook. “That’s a beautiful name, Éowyn.”
Eddie’s smile brightened, reaching up at a strand of hair that hadn’t made it into the ponytail around her finger. “Thanks, most people just call me Eddie though.”
Lauren nodded, eyebrows lifted slightly in an attempt at hiding her surprise at a nickname she’d consider ‘masculine’, and gestured to a server carrying drinks.
When they were each holding a flute of champagne, she waved a hand towards them.
“So, how long have you been together?”
Eddie turned to meet his eyes, squinting playfully. “Entirely too long, I’m getting sick of his face.”
He resisted the urge to shove at her face, knowing she’d put effort in tonight and not wanting to actually upset her. Instead he tugged at the same strand of hair she’d wrapped around her finger earlier. “Liar, it’s been about a year and a half.”
“Mm, shortly after my murder charges were dropped.” And then she took a sip of her champagne, making a little interested noise in the back of her throat at the bubbles like she hadn’t just dropped that bombshell on his aunty.
Steve just curled his lips in and nodded slowly, not sure how to move past that.
Aunty Lauren laughed, the fake kind that reminded Steve of his fathers business parties, and said something about checking on her daughter - the cousin they were supposed to be there for.
Eddie watched her go with raised eyebrows, before shrugging and downing half of her champagne in one go.
“Thank you.” Steve murmured later, voice muffled.
They’d made it back to the Munson’s trailer, curled up in Eddie’s bed with a Dio tape playing from the player on the dresser. She was leaned back against the pillows, a lit cigarette burning between her lips and a box of cassettes by her hip, while Steve hid away from the world in the safety of her stomach.
He could feel the swell of her breathing, and the reverberation of her voice through her bones like a heavy bass line (and god , she was rubbing off on him wasn’t she?) when she replied, scratching a hand through his hair. “What for?”
He shifted, nuzzling into her skin, shiny with scar tissue and soft with downy hair, before turning his head to rest his cheek against her hip, watching her pick through her tapes one by one.
“For coming tonight. For trying.”
Eddie hummed, dropping a Metallica tape back into the box with a plastic-y clatter and then sticking her finger in his ear. He batted her away with a lazy laugh, lifting his head to look at her properly. She'd let her hair down and taken off her makeup, but there were remnants of eyeliner caught in her lashes, bringing out the brown and making them look bigger. Her hair was soft and frizzy, grown down past her shoulders with strands still caught under the collar of her sleep shirt - which was just one of the many random shirts left strewn about her bedroom floor.
She blew a stream of smoke towards the ceiling, those beautiful eyes following it up. “Thank you for taking me.”
He hummed, curious about the way she'd turned it around. Eddie shrugged, absently dragging hair across her mouth and chewing on it. "For, like. Introducing me to your family I guess."
He smiled, heart squeezing in his chest, and pushed himself up until his arms were straight. Eddie leaned back a smidge, startled by his sudden closeness and muttering something about unnecessary displays of fitness as her fair fell away from her mouth. "I love you, I wanted them to meet you." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, just to watch the blood darken across her nose. "You don't need to thank me, they should be thanking me for gracing them with your presence."
"Oh, 'gracing them with my presence', huh?"
"Yeah- wait, why? Is that not how it's said?"
"No, no-" She laughed, bright and happy and warm, and hurried to stub her smoke out so she could grab his face with both hands and shake him fondly. "You're just cute, is all, King Steve."
"Yeah? That makes you a queen right?" He murmured, leaning in to brush their lips together.
"Well, technically, Éowyn is a princess-"