Work Text:
Eddie's got a dubious history when it comes to picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multi million dollar best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough unsolicited dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has absolutely no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"maybe one layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavors you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate, what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and cute skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!" It’s an actual Corroded Coffin! If Eddie actually believed in gods and fate and that sort of stuff, he’d be thanking someone right now, because this shit is clearly just meant to be.
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. He’s got floppy brown hair and cute moles and a rueful expression on his face.
He’s wearing an apron, the strings long enough to wrap fully around his middle to be tied in a neat bow at the front. Eddie doesn’t know if he’s melting or exploding at the sight.
Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Beautiful Man Steve The Cake Guy keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to Beautiful Steve The Cake Guy ever again, and that is just not an option, "what if you made like, three cakes?" He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, long enough for Eddie to become painfully aware of how unhinged that response probably was, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-" Eddie could throw himself off a cliff for sounding dumb and desperate over cake.
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Beautiful Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart."
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's weird to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right?
Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognizes, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he didn’t already have his ass safely in a chair. He's certain his stomach has left the building.
"Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, shakes his head, ‘no’, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, fluffy curls bouncing, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something!" The audience is hooting and cheering in the background.
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, silver rings adorning his long fingers, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
"Steve! You have no idea!" Eddie's laughing, and that always makes Steve laugh, too. He's clearly a little tipsy. "Everyone went mad for the cake! It's was just, gone! Here, I'll send you some pictures!"
"I know what it looked like Eds," but Steve's grinning, knowing he's talking to empty air, can hear Eddie very vaguely mumbling to himself as he looks through his camera roll. Next to Steve' ear, his phone vibrates several times.
"Anyway, Stevie, I was thinking," Eddie's back now, still clearly tipsy but sounding uncharacteristically sheepish, "it's Christmas kind of soon right? Going to need a cake or two there. New year. Easter. Birthdays and bar mitzvahs and...and... independence day...so I was thinking I should get my orders in now, you know? Avoid disappointment."
"Eddie," Steve starts, finds himself turning shy himself, "you don't have to have a cake on order just to talk to me."
"I, ah, don't?"
"No, I mean, pretty sure we're friends, now, right?"
"Friends," Eddie starts slowly, "there's, like, lots of different kinds of friends."
"Sure, sure," Steve agrees easily, butterflies running rampant in his stomach, "there's even, kind of, more than friends, really."
"That sounds really really great-"
"Eddie!" There's a cacophony in the background, people shouting, "man, you're missing your own party-"
The line goes dead, and Steve's left standing in the dim light of the evening, just staring at tomorrow's cake order where it's cooling on the racks. A minute later, his phone buzzes in his hand, "so sorry baby, talk tomorrow."
Steve smiles at his phone. He had gone a little quiet after finding out who Eddie really is. It had kind of surprised him, because Eddie is like, really, really famous and it just felt a little...intimidating. But then Eddie had text him, "did I do something? 😞" and Steve realized Eddie's entitled to his privacy, the same as anyone. Plus...non of that stuff matters, not really, when Eddie is still just...Eddie.
"Hey Stevie, how's your day?"
Steve has Eddie on speaker phone as he mixes batter, "pretty good so far, you? You hungover?"
"No, no, didn't get that wasted, too old for that nonsense now, you know?"
Steve laughs, "aren't you like, 25?"
"I mean, maybe. Definitely old enough to, like, think about settling down, you know?"
Steve's breath catches in his throat, excitement and nerves after their interrupted conversation last night, "yeah, you, thinking about that? With, uhm, someone?"
"Yeah, I am, it's just..." Steve's heart sinks in his chest, "my job, you know, I travel a lot, and that would be a sacrifice for anyone, and I couldn't ask someone to live with that, you know?"
"Well...what if it wasn't? What if they just...went with you?"
"What if...this person...had a job they loved? Their own business they worked hard for?"
"Yeah," Steve agrees slowly, "but what if...well, take me for example. I love to bake, but I don't love my business. That's just a means to an end, you know? I don't always love the orders, I'd choose to make something else if I was doing it for fun. So if it were me, I'd give it up in a heartbeat as long as I can keep baking."
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Yeah. Yeah Eddie, I mean it."
"I, I mean, sure. Good. Thanks. I mean, not thanks, I mean, good, that's great. Certainly something to, ah, think about." Steve grins at Eddie's ramblings. "I'll be away though, soon, for a couple of months, like four months, so, maybe, we could keep talking and when, I mean, if you want, when I get back. I mean, it’s a pretty long time, to be away..."
"I'd like that, though. It’s not so long." Steve fist pumps, silently celebrating. "You never actually told me what you do for work?" Steve's teasing him, but Eddie doesn't know that Steve knows so, Steve grins to himself and keeps his voice even.
"I ah, music?"
"Yeah, you have mentioned that before, but what about it?" Steve knows he's being a dick, he just can't help it though. He also can't help grinning to himself as Eddie scrambles for a reply.
"I ah, travel, with the band," Eddie starts slowly, and that is technically not a lie, Steve thinks, "and I kind of, look after some of the instruments and...have a lot to do with the sound checks? Like I'm definitely always there, for every sound check, like, I have to be."
All of that is probably true, Steve thinks, and god bless Eddie for not wanting to actually lie to Steve.
"Oh right, and what's the band called?"
"Oh, they're like, heavy metal, you've definitely never heard of them."
After they get off the call, Steve laughs all afternoon.
"It's like a TV show, but on YouTube."
"Right," Steve answers, half listening to Dustin's explanation, "so it, like what, has an air time, or whatever?"
"Yeah, like a series."
"And it's just, what, famous people playing dipshits and dickheads?"
"Steeeeeeeeeeeevvvvveeeeeeeeeeee why are you like this?"
"Dunno," Steve shrugs, trying to read a recipe online. Unfortunately that's resulted in his having to scroll past someone's entire fucking life story and he's ready to give up and try and work out the dumb Oreo cake recipe himself, "just lucky, I guess."
Dustin drops his head on the kitchen counter like Steve is the greatest difficulty he's ever going to face.
"So why do you need to be here to watch this?"
"Because we all want to watch it together, the guests are Corroded Coffin, they all like, play, the whole band, it's so cool-"
"Corroded Coffin? Playing your nerd game?" Steve's interest leaks through before he can stop it, "I mean, like, I think I've heard of them?" The last thing he needs is the kids finding out he's been kind of friends kind of flirting kind of maybe wants to date the actual Eddie Munson.
Dustin looks at him skeptically, "yeah...so you-"
"You can all watch it here, it's fine...I'll make cookies."
Dustin's completely distracted by his own success, instantly whipping out his phone to inform the other kids. Steve's pretty sure their group chat is called 'No Steve's allowed' but he hasn't actually found out for sure yet.
Steve does bake cookies. All the kids are gathered around his smart TV, absolutely demolishing them while they wait for this thing to start. It's like, an actual channel, with intros and graphics and stuff, a logo that reads 'Final Roll.'
And there's Eddie and the band, sitting around a table with two dudes who must run the channel. They all have the bits of paper and dice and little figures that Steve's used to seeing when the kids commandeer his dining room table.
There's pre-emptive ramble, and Steve leans forward a little every time Eddie's in shot. He's relieved all the kids are all sitting in front of him and all glued to the TV, so he can ogle in peace. They do introductions, and then everyone introduces their characters.
"May I introduce Sir Steven, the half elf paladin," behind Eddie Gareth rolls his eyes so hard his whole fucking body moves. Steve can see him and Geoff mouthing something to each other. Steve can only assume it's because Eddie has named his character, presumably, after him, "he has a sworn oath to always protect those weaker than himself."
Steve's heart fucking melts.
Steve's phone is buzzing. He's prepared. He knows Eddie's back in the country, they've been talking for months. Steve's kind of done waiting, and he's ready to press his advantage. He's had this set up for a little while, just waiting for the right moment. He presses play, and then answers the phone.
"Hey Stevie how-...are you listening to Corroded Coffin?"
"Yeah, yeah," Steve turns it down, bomb dropped, trap sprung, advantage played, "the kids absolutely love them, they're trying to get me into them even though they're not exactly my thing. I said I’d give them a try."
"Right, ah, right, what do you, uhm, think?"
"Yeah. Still not my thing-"
"Oh."
"But I really like it when the lead guy sings."
"...yeah?"
"Yeah, not the like, shouty growly singing, I can't understand a fucking thing he's saying-" Eddie chuckles, "but like, the parts where he properly sings. I think he has a beautiful voice."
"I ah, well, I mean, I bet the, uhm, shouty bits are hard work, you know. I expect that takes a lot of, you know, practice. Hell on the throat. I imagine, I would guess anyway, I don't actually, like know-"
"No no, yeah, well, maybe he should just sing more then, save those vocal chords, or whatever. I'd like that a lot."
"Yeah?" Steve can practically hear Eddie blushing down the phone. Eddie's so cute when he goes shy.
"Yeah." There's a long beat of silence before Steve goes in for the kill, "the kids are trying to get me to go see them. They're in the states now, apparently. Will be playing a gig in Indie."
"Yeah they are- I mean, I assume they are, most bands, uhm, yeah-" And Steve is hardly holding it together, Eddie is such a bad liar, and he's trying so hard not to lie at all.
Steve doesn't know how he’s keeping his own tone normal and not letting the whole ass cat out of the bag.
"And the kids are absolutely itching to go, you know? But tickets man, they're all doing every chore they can find to get some extra cash, but tickets are pricey, and for eight of us? Because I'll need someone else to help me chaperone and, you know..."
"I. I might...know a guy. Maybe. Like, because of the band I might...know someone who can get you tickets."
"Seriously? Eddie that would be incredible, the kids will absolutely loose their shit."
"Yeah, ah, is your work email cool?"
"Yeah, yeah, of course of course, man, the kids are going to love you for like, forever."
And maybe I will too, Steve just about manages to keep the words inside.
The kids are quiet in the back.
There ended up being ten of them. Once Steve realized that eight people would not fit in his car, he talked to Nancy. Nancy sighed out of her nose the way she does, but Steve already knew she was going to say yes, especially with Mike ready to literally throw himself at her feet to beg.
And then obviously Jonathan had to come along. Turns out he actually, really, genuinely likes Corroded Coffin and was as excited as the kids to learn Steve had tickets. Well, excited in that understated, no energy for anything ever, way that Jonathan has about him.
So yeah, Mike went with Nancy and Jonathan, which meant Dustin and Will got pushed in that direction. Steve could breathe a sigh of relief; that left him with Max, El, and Lucas. The sensible ones. The nice ones.
If you ignore how scathing Max could be. So the girls have an earbud each from Max’s phone and Lucas seems to be content to stare out of the window while Max stoically pretends they aren’t holding hands.
It’s cute.
Robins’ looking at the side of his face, Steve can feel it. He raises an eyebrow, ‘what?’
Robin raises both her eyebrows tipper her whole head in question, ‘how you feeling?’
Steve shrugs, tilts his head dismissively. The he rethinks his answer for a more honest one, lifting one hand off the wheel to, out of sight of the kids, make a rocking gesture, ‘so-so.’
Robin nods sympathetically, seeming content with his answer, ‘that’s fair.’
He’d told Robin, obviously, that he’d hit it off with a customer and developed a monster crush and hopefully fingers and toes crossed that customer liked him back. He had not told her who Eddie actually is though, because even though it’s Robin and Steve did once get her to look at his dick because he thought something looked weird, (“It looks weird Steve, it’s a dick.” “Yeah, but weird like, see a doctor weird?”) and they have literally no secrets between them...this isn’t his secret.
Until tonight.
And Steve had to tell her just because tonight he might...actually get to meet Eddie. For real.
Once she’d finished squealing and beating him with a pillow, she’d understood.
So.
Steve’s kind of got a hurricane worth of butterflies in him.
Steve has detailed instructions and a QR code in the form of the email he printed from Eddie. All the kids laughed at him because ‘no one prints tickets any more, Steve’ but he was nervous, okay? And phone batteries can die or the internet could not work or. Yeah. He wanted a sure thing.
So they all go to the gate that the email says, and when the QR code gets scanned the woman with the scanner points off to the side, “can you wait there please,” and then pulls out a walkie talkie and speaks into it, “Steve Harrington has arrived.”
There’s a blast of static which, presumably, she understands, and then she goes back to doing her job. Less than five minutes later, five minutes filled with everyone but Robin demanding, “what the actual fuck, Steven,” someone else arrives. A guy with a tablet, a headset, and a very, very 100% done look on his face shows up. He’s wearing Corroded Coffin merch and asks the group to follow along. Which they do.
They’re led along white washed corridors, clearly under the stadium, and get dropped off in a room. A room with a TV on, and snacks and drinks, “this is all for you, go for it, I’ll be back before the support goes on.” And the dude leaves.
The girls, priorities sorted, lay into the snacks. Dustin and Mike are insisting again, “what the fuck is going on?” and getting ever more obnoxious about it.
Steve, very smugly, informs them that he, “knows a guy,” and settles down with the girls and a bag of Cheetos. He’s going to enjoy this while it lasts, watching Dustin splutter over it is very satisfying.
Steve wasn’t expecting any of this. He’s playing it as cool as he can, but he was expecting to get tickets, see the show, call Eddie after and maybe get to see him. He wasn’t expecting to be perched in seats the have been put at the side of the stage, just for them. Someone keeps checking on them, to bring them drinks and snacks.
He’s probably, right now, less than fifty feet from Eddie Munson. Eddie, wearing torn up skin tight jeans, shit kicker boots and nothing else. Eddie, who has his guitar slung at his back as he roars into the microphone, waving a hand to encourage the crowd to roar back at him.
The crowd are going batshit.
Steve’s slowly going insane.
When the stage lights finally, finally go down, Steve thinks, this is it. He’s going to meet Eddie. Now is his moment.
The lights come back up, they play an encore. It’s four fucking songs long. Steve’s pulling his hair out and is genuinely concerned he might be sick.
The kids don’t notice; they’ve all just been given gift bags brimming with merch.
The band come over, once they’re finally done. They’re red faced and sweaty and the kids are all vibrating with excitement but Steve doesn’t care, he just doesn’t, because he can very clearly see Eddie leaving the other way. Disappearing off the other side of the stage. Away from Steve.
Well, fuck that.
Gareth is standing practically right next to Steve, signing the kids merch and talking to them, “where is Eddie?”
All the other members of the band look at Steve, and all of them look sheepish as fuck. “He’s- uhm- I mean, Eddie?” Gareth, for some reason, makes an attempt at explaining he doesn't even know an 'Eddie.'
“Right,” Steve replies, deadpan. And then it occurs to him. Eddie doesn’t know, so they don’t know. They think they’re keeping Eddie’s secret. “I know. I know it’s him. I want to see him.”
Every member of the band visibly relaxes, “see, I fucking told you he’s worked it out-” Geoff starts.
“Eddie is such a shitty liar,” Gareth agrees.
“Yes, he is. And I know it’s him, and I’ve known for ages, and now he’s…” Steve gestures weakly in the direction Eddie disappeared in.
“Having a meltdown in a greenroom because he thinks you’re going to hate him when you realize he’s been lying to you,” Jeff supplies helpfully.
“What the fuck is happening??” Dustin screeches. Steve pushes him away with a hand on the forehead.
Gareth laughs, “come on man. One way to settle this and honestly, I am so ready for it. I am done with his pining.”
Steve perks up immediately, jogging along after, “he’s been pining?”
Steve is left with a thumbs up, standing in an empty hallway, looking at a very, very unassuming door. He lifts his hand to knock but...can’t.
It doesn’t feel right. It doesn’t feel like...like them. So after a few moments of indecision, Steve jogs a little way along the hall and then pulls out his phone, calling Eddie.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Hi, Eds.”
“You enjoy the show?”
“I did, yeah, thank you, so so much. The kids loved it too. And all the, you know, extra stuff, it was all amazing...but I had, kind of hoped I’d get to see you tonight?”
“Yeah,” Eddie starts slowly. Painfully slowly, “about, about that-”
“Look,” Steve sighs, heart sinking a little, but he isn't going to force Eddie into anything, “if you don’t want to meet up, I get it.”
“No. No Steve, it isn’t that. It really, really isn’t, it’s just...I might have, withheld something from you. Slightly.”
“Is it that, you're Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin’s front man?”
“You see, the thing is, I’m actually, Eddie, like the lead singer guy of-wait. Wait. Hold up. You- Steve. Stevie. Honey. What?”
“I know who you are Eddie. I’ve known for a while. I’m outside. Like, outside the door.”
“Oh,” Eddie breathes. And then...nothing.
“Eds?” Steve asks, tentatively.
“I was just...you don’t know what it’s like Steve. To be this famous. No one just...treats me like a normal guy. Not ever. Everyone wants something from me, you know? Everyone just thinks I’m rich and famous and I can do things for them. I’m...someone to fuck for bragging rights, not because anyone actually cares...no one. No one ever treats me, like, well, like a person. And you have, Stevie, this whole time you’ve just...been normal. And I missed normal so much, and I thought, I was scared that once you found out I’d loose that but...you’ve known this whole time?”
Steve’s heart is kind of breaking for Eddie, and he wants to comfort him, show him nothing’s changing, but he isn’t going to force anything on him, this is Eddie’s choice, “yeah. I’ve known...pretty much the whole time yeah. You’re a...well, absolutely atrocious liar, Eddie Munson.”
“Yeah?” and Jesus he sounds like he’s crying a little, “are you, did you say you were outside? Are you still-”
“I’m here, right here, right outside the door.”
“I. I, okay. Yeah. Yeah.” And then Eddie hangs up.
And for a really long, really long minute, Steve worries that’s it. Eddie’s not going to open the door and-
The door opens slowly, Eddie peeking out at Steve for a second before he pulls it far enough to slip through. Steve can’t help laughing. And then Eddie laughs, coming the rest of the way out, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. His eyes are red rimmed, like he’s been crying, and Steve’s desperately trying to blink back the tears himself, “can I hug you?”
“Yeah,” Eddie’s voice is rough from the gig, much more noticeable now in person, “yeah, I’d like that.”
Steve doesn’t hesitate, throwing his arms around Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him tight close. Eddie’s more tentative, wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and then...nuzzling into the side of Steve’s neck. Eddie takes a deep breath and...relaxes against Steve.
They stand there, hugging, Steve’s face buried in Eddie’s sweaty curls, swaying gently together in the quiet hallway.