Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ONE

Chicago was nothing like Hawkins. The buildings stretched higher, the streets were louder, and everything moved at a speed that made Steve feel like he was constantly trying to catch up. But despite the overwhelming change, there was something good about it too—like the sense that life could actually start fresh here.

Their apartment was small, but Robin had made sure it didn’t feel too much like a shoebox. It had character, as she kept insisting. Golden evening light spilled through the windows, casting long, warm shadows across the hardwood floor. The walls were covered in mismatched frames—photos, artwork, little scraps of things Robin had collected over the years and deemed worthy of displayed. A worn but comfortable leather couch sat against the wall, covered in a couple of pillows that didn’t match but somehow worked together. A sleek, mid century coffee table sat in front of it, cluttered with books, half melted candles, a bowl where they both dumped their keys and loose change.

Near the corner, a small shelving unit doubled as a plant sanctuary, with leafy green vines cascading over the edges. A pink lantern hung from the ceiling, giving the room a warm, hazy glow when the sun dipped below the skyline. It was cozy in a way Steve hadn’t expected, filled with little pieces of them—his battered sneakers kicked under the coffee table, Robin’s stack of books next to an empty coffee mug, a Polaroid of the two of them stuck to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a slice of pizza.

But for all its charm, one thing was missing, money.

Steve groaned, stretching out on the couch and knocking over a pile of newspapers in the process. Robin, seated at their tiny dining table near the kitchen, shot him a glare.

”Jesus, Steve,” she muttered, peeling a sticky note off her arm. “We’ve been here for two weeks. Do you even try to keep this place organized?”

He waved a hand lazily. “Relax, it’s fine.”

Robin scoffed, standing up and walking in the living room, tapping the stack of newspapers. “You know what’s not fine? You not having a job.”

Steve sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “I know.”

”Do you? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been doing a whole lot of nothing expect making a mess.”

“I’m looking,” he argued, sitting up properly. “It’s just…hard.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that your rich kid safety net is gone, right? Your parents stopped sending you money and your last check from Family Video is long gone. So unless you want to start paying rent with your good lucks, I suggest you figure something out.”

Steve huffed, but she wasn’t wrong. He’d been coasting for a while—first one his parents money and then on the scraps of savings he’d built up from working at Scoops Ahoy and Family Video. But his parents cut him off when he told them he wasn’t going back to school, and his savings had bled out faster than he’d expected.

He pulled his wallet from the pocket of his sweatpants, flipping it open. Two crumbled twenties, a couple of singles, and a credit card that barely had any money in it stared back at him.

Shit.

Robin must’ve seen the look on his face because she softened—just a little. “Look, I get it. But we’re adults now and it’s scary as hell but we’ve gotta be responsible.”

Steve groaned dramatically, slumping forward onto the coffee table. “Tell me about it.”

Robin rolled her eyes, taking a seat on the floor and scanning the work listings in the newspaper, chewing on the end of her pen. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of pages turning and the occasional creak from their too old heating system.

Steve’s eyes drifted over the paper until something caught his attention. 

Nanny Needed—Full time position, live in optional. Two children. Immediate start.

”Huh.”

Robin looked up. “What?”

Steve slid the newspaper toward her, tapping the ad.

She leaned in, reading aloud. “Looking for a reliable, patient, and energetic nanny for twin eight year old boys. Must have experience with children. Competitive pay. Call for details.” She paused, then grinned. “Oh my god Steve!”

He frowned. “What?”

”You have to apply.”

He snorted. “Are you serious?”

“Uh, yeah? You were Hawkins resident babysitter. You basically raised a bunch of those kids.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I watched them occasionally. That doesn’t mean I’m qualified to be a nanny.”

Robin waved him off. “Please, you wrangled Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair at the same time. That’s basically a full time job with hazard pay.”

He hesitated, chewing on the inside of his cheek. It wasn’t like he hated the idea. He liked kids. Hell, he’d spent half his early twenties making sure a bunch of nerdy freshman didn’t get themselves killed in various ill-advised adventures.

And it wasn’t like there were other options jumping out at him.

”…Alright,” he said, grabbing his phone. “I’ll call.”

Robin pumped her fist in the air. “Yes! Now let’s just hope they’re not serial killers.”

Steve rolled his eyes but hesitated before dialing, a strange feeling settling in his gut.

He had no idea that this call would change everything.

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Steve stared at the address scribbled on the back of his hand, then back up at the house in front of him.

House was a bit of an understatement. It wasn’t a mansion or anything, but it was damn nice—three stories, sleek black trim against dark brick, big bay windows that reflected the soft grey of the Chicago sky. The kind of place that screamed money. Not old money like the houses in Loch Nora back at Hawkins, but earned money, like whoever lived here had actually worked for it.

Steve tugged at the collar of his sweater, suddenly feeling a little undressed. He hadn’t known what to wear to a nanny interview, so he’d landed on something safe—dark jeans, a plain navy sweater, clean sneakers. It was fine. Right?

He exhaled sharply, shaking out his hands. “Okay. You got this,” he muttered to himself, then pressed the doorbell.

There was a loud thud from inside, followed by a string of cursing and the distinct sound of something—or someone—crashing into furniture. Steve took a cautious step back, just in case.

Then the door swung open, and Steve’s brain promptly short-circuited.

Because standing there, looking exactly like every teenage fantasy Steve had to bury, was Eddie Munson.

Like—the Eddie Munson.

The same Eddie Munson who used to strut around Hawkins High School like he owned the place, all ripped jeans, band tees and rings flashing as he ranted about conformity in the cafeteria. The same Eddie Munson that Steve had spent way too much time secretly staring at during senior year, wondering what it would be like if he just let himself care that Eddie was kind of—okay, really hot.

And the same Eddie Munson who was now standing barefoot in the doorway, wearing gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. His Metallica sweatshirt was worn soft, the hem slightly lifted where he’d hooked a thumb into the waistband of his sweats, revealing a sliver of stomach—and tattoos.

Steve’s brain barely had time to process the ink curling along Eddie’s hips, disappearing beneath the fabric of his sweatpants, before Eddie’s eyes widened in recognition.

”Oh, shit.” Eddie breathed, blinking at him.

Steve’s stomach flipped. He recognized him.

Eddie tilted his head, staring at Steve like he was trying to place him. Then his brows lifted slightly, a slow grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Wait a second. I know you,” Eddie said, snapping his fingers. “Hawkins, right? You—shit, you were on the basketball team! The guy with the hair!”

Steve let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, I—uh, that was me.”

“Steve,” Eddie said, like he was testing it out, then nodded. “Steve Harrington. Man, you were like the guy in high school.”

Steve winced. “I guess.”

Eddie let out a low whistle, crossing his arms over his chest. “Damn. This is wild. I mean, I used to see you all the time, walking around like Hawkins was your personal kingdom.” His smirk deepened. “Gotta say, never pegged you as the babysitting type.”

Steve huffed a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well…turns out I’m good at it.”

Before Eddie could respond, a blur of movement came from inside the house.

”Dad! Dad! Axel stole my dragon!”

”No, I didn’t.” A second voice shouted.

Two identical kids barreled into the entryway—twins, both with messy dark curls and big brown eyes, one holding a stuffed green dragon, the other trying(and failing) to snatch it away.

Eddie groaned. “Jesus Christ, you guys. I told you to chill out for like five minutes.” He turned back to Steve, running a hand through his hair.

Steve really wished he hadn’t noticed how his sweatshirt lifted slightly, exposing more of that tattooed hip.

Eddie sighed. “So you’re here for the nanny thing?”

Steve nodded, still vaguely convinced this was some kind of elaborate dream. “Yeah. I—uh—yeah.”

Eddie exhaled, glancing over his shoulder at the chaos unfolding behind him. One of the twins had launched himself onto the couch, holding the stuffed dragon aloft like a prize, while the other attempted to climb after him with all the determination of a kid on a mission.

Eddie turned back to Steve, eyes scanning up and down, and then—“Cool. You’re hired.”

Steve blinked. “Wait—what?”

Eddie shrugged. “You look normal enough. And you’re not an 80 year old woman named Barbara, which means the agency clearly sent me the wrong résumé. Plus I know you, Steve.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it. “You’re not gonna like, ask me any questions?”

”Dude, I’ve been through eight interviews this week. One lady made me fill out a four page questionnaire on my ‘childcare philosophy’.” Eddie used air quotes. “I don’t need a philosophy. I need someone who can stop these two from committing fratricide before bedtime.”

Steve hesitated, glancing between Eddie and the twins, who were now attempting to climb one another like some kind of deranged human totem pole.

”…I mean, I do have a lot of experience with kids,” he admitted. “I used to babysit all the time back home.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Great, you start Monday.”

Steve let out a startled laugh. “That’s it?”

”That’s it,” Eddie confirmed, then turned to yell over his shoulder. “Maverick, if you don’t let your brother down right now, I’m confiscating the dragon for a week!”

Maverick gasped in horror and immediately released his grip.

Eddie turned back to Steve, looking slightly frazzled but mostly unfazed. “So, you in?”

Steve had about a hundred questions, not to mention the fact that his high school crush was standing in front of him offering him a job, but he really, really needed the money.

And, okay. Maybe a tiny part of him was curious.

”…Yeah,” he said, trying not to sound too flustered. “I’m in.”

Eddie grinned, and Steve was so fucked.

——————————

Steve’s feet were moving before he even realized it, his brain was still reeling from the absurdity of the past few minutes. He nodded his way through the last few exchanges with Eddie, his heart pounding louder than the twins squabbling in the background. He barely even remembered saying goodbye, just stumbling backward into the street, then breaking into a jog toward his car.

He fumbled for his keys, his hands still a little shaky. The door unlocked with a satisfying click, and Steve practically dove into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him.

He threw the car into reverse, his mind whirring, and replaying everything—Eddie Munson, now some kid of…well, a dad? A single dad, of all things. It still didn’t feel real. What the hell happened?

Without thinking, Steve grabbed his phone from the passenger seat, immediately dialing Robin’s number. She picked up on the first ring.

“Hey doofus, you good?” She asked, her voice still groggy from what Steve assumed was her post nap from work.

”No, I am not good.” Steve practically shouted into the phone, the words tumbling out in a rapid fire. “You’re not going to believe this, Robin. I just got hired by Eddie Munson to be a nanny.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Wait. Eddie Munson as in…Eddie Munson, the guy who was like, the guy in Hawkins High? The metal head who used to terrorize the halls and is now the lead singer of Corroded Coffin?” Robin asked, her voice laced with disbelief.

”Yeah, that one. The exact one.”

”Wait—hold on. You mean, the Eddie Munson is a dad now? And he hired you?”

”Yeah!” Steve groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I don’t even know what the hell just happened, Robin. I barely said anything, and next thing I know, I’m hired. No interview. Just ‘You’re hired’. Like, what? Who does that?”

“I mean, Eddie Munson sounds like he’s a guy who does things like that,” Robin quipped. “But also…are you telling me your high school crush is a dad now? And he hired you to take care of his kids?”

Steve groaned again. “Yeah, yeah. I get it, alright? This is insane. But listen, I need the money, and honestly I think I’m about to get front row seat to one hell of a circus.”

Robin was quiet for a moment. “So, what? Is he like a dilf now?”

”Robin,” Steve groaned again, his face heating up. “Yeah, he’s got the whole hot dad thing going on.”

“Well, it’s you. You were always one to look for chaos, even when you didn’t know you were looking for it. This is just…well, that on steroids.” Robin laughed.

Steve didn’t even have the energy to argue. “Tell me about it.”

Robin’s voice softened, though. “Hey, you’re gonna be fine. It’s just a nanny job. You just gotta do your thing. You’ve got this.”

”I hope so,” Steve muttered, leaning back in the driver’s seat. “I really hope so.”

As he hung up the phone, Steve took one last look at the house in his rear view mirror, his stomach doing another flip. What the hell was he getting himself into?

One thing for sure—he wasn’t ready for Monday.

Chapter Text

Chapter Three

Steve woke up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Robin clattering around in the kitchen, singing off key to whatever record she’d thrown on the turntable.

With a groan, he rolled onto his side, squinting at the red glow of his alarm clock. 7:32 AM. His first day on the job didn’t start until nine, but nerves had dragged him out of sleep earlier than planned.

With a sigh, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Alright Harrington. Time to go be the best damn nanny Chicago has ever seen.”

His own pep talk didn’t do much to settle his nerves.

By the time he wandered into the kitchen, Robin was sitting cross legged on the counter, toast in one hand, coffee mug in the other. She glanced up at him with a smile. “Well, if it isn’t Mary Poppins himself.”

Steve rolled his eyes, grabbing the half full pot of coffee and pouring himself a mug. “Hilarious.”

Robin grinned and took a bite of her toast. “So ready for your first day as a professional child wrangler?”

Steve took a long sip of coffee before answering. “I mean, I used to babysit all the time. How bad can it be?”

Robin snorted. “Famous last words.”

Steve ignored her and opened the fridge, grabbing the carton of eggs. “You want scrambled?”

”God, yes.” She gestured toward the stove with her toast. “Get to work, Nanny Harrington.”

Steve shook his head but cracked the eggs into a bowl anyway, whisking them together before pouring them into the pan. As they cooked, he thought about yesterday—about Eddie answering the door looking like every teenage fantasy Steve had ever had.

It had been a long time since high school, but the fact that Eddie remembered him sent a thrill through his chest that he was still trying to shove down. He was his boss now, which meant off limits.

Steve scooped the eggs onto two plates , setting one next to Robin before taking a seat on the counter across from her. He absently pushed his food around with his fork.

Robin gave him a look. “Okay, what’s up? You look constipated.”

Steve groaned. “Jesus Robin.”

She shrugged. “Well? spill.”

He hesitated. “It’s just…kind of weird right? That it’s Eddie Munson?”

Robin rolled her eyes. “Steve. You had a crush on him, like a decade ago.”

Steve stabbed at his eggs. “Yeah, and then he answered the door in sweatpants that barely stayed on his damn hips, and I was supposed to just forget about my crush?”

Robin cackled. “Oh my god. You’re already down bad.”

”I am not.”

”You so are.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Think he still has that old Hellfire shirt? You always used to stare at it like it was gonna take itself off.”

Steve groaned, letting his head thunk back against the wall. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Robin reached over and patted his arm. “Now hurry up and finish your breakfast, Nanny Harrington. You don’t wanna be late for your first day of—what was it? Stopping the twins from committing fratricide?”

Steve groaned again, but finished his eggs.

—————————

By the time he arrived at Eddie’s house, his stomach was a bundle of nerves.

Eddie answered the door looking just as disheveled as yesterday, though this time he was at least wearing real pants. His hair was a mess, his Nirvana shirt slightly wrinkled like he’d just roll out of bed.

”Steve-o.” Eddie greeted, voice rough with sleep. “Welcome to the dungeon.”

Before Steve could respond, something smacked into his legs.

Steve yelped, barely managing to keep his balance as the twins latched onto his leg—one  on each leg.

”You’re the new babysitter?” One of them asked, looking up at him with suspicious brown eyes.

”The nanny, Axel.” The other one corrected with a grin, still clinging to Steve’s leg. “Hi, I’m Maverick.”

”Uh, hey.” Steve said, awkwardly patting Maverick on the head. “Nice to meet you guys.”

“They’ve been up since six.” Eddie muttered rubbing a hand over his face. “I’ve already had to break up one fight, clean crayon off the ceiling and talk Maverick out of trying to flood the bathroom.”

Steve blinked. “That’s…impressive.”

”You don’t have to sound so impressed.” Eddie said dryly, then clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Alright Harrington. You’ve got them solo today.”

Steve frowned. “Wait—what?”

Eddie shrugged. “I got a recording session with the guys. Running late already. You’re in charge.”

Steve gaped at him. “It’s my first day!”

”Yep.” Eddie reached for his keys, tucking them into his pocket. “Trial by fire man. Best way to learn.”

Steve wanted to argue, but then Eddie flashed him a grin—a little apologetic, mostly amused—and suddenly Steve’s brain stopped functioning properly.

“Don’t let them burn the place down!” Eddie called as he slipped out the door.

Before Steve could even process the fact that he was now alone with two eight year old tornados, Axel grabbed his hand.

”You ever played real life Mario Kart?”

Steve blinked. “Uh…what?”

Maverick grinned wickedly. “We have rollerblades and hockey sticks.”

Steve had about three seconds to realize he was completely screwed before the twins took off down the hall, already planning his demise.

————————

By lunch time, Steve had already dealt with:

• Axel locking Maverick in the pantry.
• Maverick retaliating by stealing Axel’s favorite action figure and hiding it in the freezer.
• Both of them teaming up to steal Steve’s shoe and toss it onto the roof.
• An absolutely chaotic lunch where half the food ended up on the boys ( and some on Steve).
• A game of tag that nearly ended with a broken lamp.

By the time Eddie got back, Steve was exhausted.

He collapsed on the couch, rubbing his temples as the twins ran off to cause more destruction.

Eddie plopped down beside him, holding out a beer. “So? How did the first day treat you?”

Steve groaned. “Are they always like that?”

Eddie snorted. “Nah. This is them being nice.”

Steve took the beer with a sigh. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

Eddie grinned. “Oh, big time.”

Steve groaned again, but when Eddie clinked his beer against Steve’s, laughing, he couldn’t help but smile.

Day one: barely survived.

Chapter Text

Chapter Four

By the end of the first week, Steve had officially won over the Munson twins.

Not that it had been easy.

The first few days had been hell. Axel and Maverick had tested him in ways he hadn’t known were possible—hiding his phone, rigging the sink to spray him in the face, convincing him that ‘yes, Dad lets us drink soda for breakfast (he did not). Steve had barely survived the trial by fire, but he’d held his ground, shutting down their mom deranged antics while still letting them have fun.

And somehow, against all odds, it had worked.

Because now, a week in, the twins weren’t actively trying to send him to an early grave. They still had enough energy to power a small city, but the outright pranks had mellowed into something else—something closer to affection.

Steve noticed it in the little things. The way Axel would lean against him on the couch during movies, or how Maverick had started making friendship bracelets at school an immediately shoved a purple and green one into Steve’s hand when he’d come to pick them up.

He still had it tied around his wrist.

Right now, the three of them were sprawled across the living room floor, building what had started as a simple LEGO castle but had quickly evolved into The Ultimate Battle Fortress (Axel’s words).

“This is actually looking pretty cool.” Axel admitted, snapping a LEGO piece into place.

Maverick nodded. “Way better than the last babysitter. She sucked at LEGOs.”

Steve smirked, pressing a piece onto the tower. “That so?”

Axel snorted. “Yeah. She said we should follow the instructions.” He wrinkled his nose like the very idea offended him.

Steve pretend to gasp. “The horror.”

Maverick giggled, flopping onto his stomach. “She was so boring. The one before her was worse, though.”

Axel shuddered. “She tried to make us do yoga.”

Steve chuckled. “Okay, yeah that’s a crime.”

Maverick sat up, peering at him like he was assessing something important. “You’re way better than them.”

Steve blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of it. “Oh, uh…thanks, kid.”

Axel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you don’t treat us like babies.”

Steve’s chest tightened—just a little. He didn’t know what it was like having a rockstar for a dad, but he had a feeling the twins didn’t always get the attention they wanted. Eddie loved them, that much was obvious, but Steve had also seen the exhaustion on his face when he got home from long days at the studio. The way he ruffled their hair and called them his little gremlins, but sometimes got distracted by his phone halfway through the boys telling him a story or showing him a craft they made at school.

“Hey,” Steve said, nudging Axel’s arm. “You guys aren’t babies. You’re menaces, but you’re cool menaces.”

Maverick grinned. “You’re cool too.”

Axel nodded solemnly. “Yeah, we like you Steve.”

Steve swallowed, warmth spreading through his chest. “Well good. Cause I like you guys too.”

A comfortable silence settled over them as they went back to their LEGO masterpiece, but Steve’s mind drifted to Eddie.

He wondered if Eddie had noticed how much the twins had warmed up to him. If he’d noticed that Maverick and Axel actually listened to him, that they sought him out instead of running wild the second Eddie left the house.

A part of Steve hoped he did. Because if he was being honest with himself, he wanted Eddie to be impressed.

And maybe—just maybe, he wanted Eddie to look at him the way Steve still caught himself looking at Eddie.

But that was dangerous thinking.

Steve shook the thought away and clapped his hands together. “Alright, dudes. Who wants to go see Robin?”

The twins look at him blankly.

”Who?” Maverick asked.

Steve blinked. “Robin. My best friend who works at the record store.”

Axel tilted his head. “Wait, you have friends?”

Steve scoffed. “Yes, rude. And she’s really cool, so behave, okay?”

The twins shared a look before shrugging. 

“Okay.” Axel said.

Maverick grinned. “She better be as cool as you say.”

—————————-

The record store was a hole in the wall shop a few blocks away, tucked between a tattoo parlor and a cafe that always smelled like burnt espresso. It was the kind of place that still sold vinyl alongside old CDs, the walls lined with faded concert posters, music humming through the speakers at all times.

Robin was behind the counter, drumming her fingers against the glass display case and looking bored out of her mind. The second she spotted Steve and the twins, she lit up.

”Oh, thank god.” She sighed dramatically, throwing her arms out. “Please tell me you’re here to save me from a slow and painful death via corporate retail mediocrity.”

Maverick and Axel both stared at her, then turned to Steve in unison.

”Is she okay?” Axel whispered.

Robin gasped. “Who are these charming young gentleman?” She leaned on the counter and narrowed her eyes. “Wait, are these the gremlins?”

Steve grinned. “In the flesh.”

Maverick crossed his arms. “We’re not gremlins.”

Axel nodded. “Yeah! We’re cool menaces.”

Robin let out an impressed whistle. “Okay, that’s way cooler.” She stuck her hand out. “Robin Buckley, Steve’s better half. Nice to meet you, cool menaces.”

Maverick shook her hand first. “I’m Maverick.”

Axel followed. “Axel.” Then he squinted at her. “Wait—you’re his best friend?”

Robin blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

Axel frowned, turning to Steve. “But we’re your best friends.”

Steve snorted. “You just started liking me.”

Maverick shrugged. “Still counts.”

Robin grinned. “Aw, they adopted you.” She ruffled Steve’s hair, ignoring his swat. “That’s adorable.”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile.

The twins immediately ran off to explore the store, flipping through records and arguing over what to buy.

Robin leaned closer. “So,” she murmured. “Are they behaving?”

Steve crossed his arms. “Actually, yeah. They’re warming up to me.”

Robin’s eyes sparkled. “And Eddie?”

Steve groaned. “Don’t.”

”Oh, come on! You’re living a romcom. Hot single rockstar dad hires a nanny, slowly realizes he’s super into him—“

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

Robin smirked knowingly. “Sure.”

Steve ignored her and turned back to the twins, who were still immersed in the records.

It wasn’t like that right?

Chapter Text

Chapter Five

Three weeks. That’s how long Steve had been nannying for Eddie Munson’s twin boys. It had taken a few days to find his footing, but once he did, it became one of the most fun jobs he’d ever had. Sure, the twins were a handful, but they were also hilarious, smart, and fiercely protective of each other—even when they were fighting.

One of Steve’s favorite moments so far had been last week when Maverick and Axel put on an impromptu “rock concert” in the living room. They’d used wooden spoons as microphones and banged on overturned pots and pans, singing some garbled version of one of Corroded Coffin songs. Steve had played the part of the enthusiastic fan, cheering and clapping, while the boys soaked up the attention like real rock stars. He even made them sign a piece of paper afterward as an autograph and kept it tucked in his wallet.

He had just finished tucking them into bed for the night, now he was cleaning up the living room, when he heard the front door open. Glancing over his shoulder, Steve spotted Eddie trudging inside. He looked exhausted—eyes rimmed with smudged eyeliner, shoulders slumped, hair pulled into a messy bun that left curls framing his face. Steve couldn’t help but notice how worn down he looked, like the weight of the world had settled on his back tonight.

Eddie gave him a tired smile. “Hey,” he greeted, his voice rough from a long night of singing.

”Hey.” Steve replied, offering a small smile. “Just got the boys down. Thought I straighten up a bit before I headed out.”

Eddie snorted, kicking off his boots by the door. “God, you’re a saint. I can barely keep up with them on a good day. You make it look easy.”

Steve shrugged, trying not to look too proud of himself. “They’re good kids. Just…energetic.”

”That’s one word for it.” Eddie muttered, brushing away some stray curls from his face. He looked at Steve for a moment, like he wanted to say something else, but then just sighed. “You hungry?”

Steve blinked. “Uh, yeah. I could eat.”

Eddie gave him a tired grin. “Come raid the kitchen with me. I’m starving.”

Steve followed Eddie into the kitchen, where Eddie started rummaging through the fridge. “Got leftover pizza or…leftover pasta. Your pick.”

”Pizza.” Steve said without hesitation, and Eddie tossed him the box while grabbing two plates from the cupboard.

A few minutes later, they were sitting at the kitchen island, sharing a cold pizza feast. Eddie took a bite, then glanced at Steve, his face a little softer than usual.

”So…three weeks.” Eddie said, chewing thoughtfully. “Can’t believe you’ve stuck around this long.”

Steve smirked. “Can’t believe you’re not sick of me yet.”

Eddie’s lips twitched into a smile. “Nah. The boys adore you. It’s kinda freaky how fast you got them to like you.”

”Guess I just know how to charm them.” Steve teased.

Eddie huffed with a laugh, but then his face grew more serious. He stared at his pizza, picking at the crust with his fingers. “Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough for them.” He admitted, his voice low. “Like…I’m screwing it all up.”

Steve frowned, putting his slice down. “Eddie, you’re not screwing anything up. You’re doing the best you can and they love you.”

Eddie let out a bitter laugh. “Their mom didn’t. Not enough to stick around, anyway.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just waited. He could tell Eddie needed to get this out.

Eddie leaned back, running a hand on his face. “She didn’t want to be a mom. Loved the rock star lifestyle—partying, touring, being free. When the boys were born, she tried for a while, but…it wasn’t enough for her. One day, she just packed up and left. Left a note saying she was following another band on tour cause she didn’t sign up to be a mom.”

Steve’s heart twisted painfully. “Jesus, Eddie. I’m…I’m so sorry.”

Eddie shrugged like it didn’t hurt, but Steve could see right through him. “That’s life, right? Just me and the boys now. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing it right or just…getting by.”

”You’re doing great.” Steve insisted, voice soft but firm. “They’re happy. They’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Eddie glanced at him, something vulnerable in his eyes. “You really think that?”

”Yeah.” Steve said, without hesitation. “You’re giving them a good life. You’re working your ass off for them. That’s more than a lot of dads would do.”

Eddie gave a small smile, grateful smile. “Thanks, man. That means a lot.”

There was a long pause where they just sat there, eating cold pizza in the soft glow of the kitchen lights. Steve felt his heart thudding a little harder than usual, his gaze flicking between Eddie’s tired eyes and the soft curve of his mouth. It was stupid to feel this way—to want something more—but he couldn’t help it.

Eventually Eddie gave him a tired but genuine grin. “You wanna crash here tonight? It’s late.”

Steve hesitated, but then he nodded. “Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

Eddie just shook his head. “Not at all, let me go make the bed in the guest room.”

—————————-

Back at his and Robin’s apartment the next morning, Steve could barely keep the grin off his face as he recounted the whole thing. Robin was making coffee, raising an eyebrow at him like he’d grown a second head.

”So…let me get this straight.” Robin said. “You and Eddie had a midnight snack, he opened up to you about his tragic backstory, and you spent the night in the guest room?”

”Yeah.” Steve mumbled, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks.

Robin just shook her head, looking far too smug. “You are so gone for him.”

Steve groaned, covering his face with his hands. “I know! It’s bad. But…I don’t know. I just want to help him. Be there for him and the boys. They deserve that.”

Robin softened, setting her mug down and leaning against the counter. “Steve listen. You’re doing a really good job with them. I know you’re probably second guessing yourself and overthinking everything like you always do, but it’s obvious that those kids already adore you. And Eddie? He clearly trusts you. That’s huge. You’re making a difference, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

Steve peeked out between his fingers, giving her a hesitant smile. “You really think so?”

She nodded. “Totally. I mean, I’ve seen you with those boys. They’ve already calm down so much since you started. And it sounds like Eddie’s starting to lean on you a little, too. Just keep being you. Keep showing up for them. You’re doing great.”

Steve felt a swell of warmth in his chest, a sense of relief washing over him. “Thanks, Rob. Seriously.”

Robin smirked. “Anytime, dingus. Now go take a nap or something—you look like you didn’t sleep at all.

“Yeah, because someone wouldn’t stop texting me updates about the hot bartender she met at the bar.”

Robin just grinned. “Okay fair point. But seriously, you’re doing good, Steve. I’m proud of you.”

Steve’s smiled softened as he grabbed his own cup of coffee, feeling a little more sure of himself. Maybe he really was making a difference—one late night pizza and bedtime story at a time.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIX

Steve had known from the start that taking care of Axel and Maverick would be an adventure, but he hadn’t expected to actually love it this much. Five weeks in, and everyday still brought something new—whether it was Maverick deciding he wanted to be a magician and attempting to make Axel disappear (which mostly involved pushing him under the bed and yelling “Presto!”) or Theo insisting on an elaborate dinosaur tea party that required Steve to do different voices for each dinosaur. 

They were exhausting, loud and sometimes way too smart for their own good—but Steve wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Which was weird right?

He hadn’t planned on liking this job so much. It was supposed to be temporary, a way to make money while he figured out what he wanted to do. But somewhere between school drop-offs and late night stories, Steve had gotten attached.

Really attached.

And today, he was about to step even further into their world—the rockstar world.

”Alright, let’s go over this one more time,” Steve said, crouching in front of the twins as he zipped up Axel’s hoodie. “What’s the number one rule?”

”Stay with you or Dad at all times,” Axel recited.

Maverick groaned. “We know, Steve.”

”Hey, humor me, okay? I’m new to this whole rockstar scene.” He ruffled Maverick’s curls before standing up, double-checking that they had everything.

The boys were practically vibrating with excitement. They’d been talking about this rehearsal all week, bragging that they were going to watch their dad play, and Steve couldn’t lie he was a little excited too.

”Alright, let’s go see your dad be a rock god.”

The boys cheered, rushing out the door, and Steve just laughed as he followed after them.

———————————

He was not prepared for the chaos that awaited them outside the venue.

The second they stepped out of the car, cameras flashed, and voices shouted from all directions.

”Over here! Over here!”

”Wait those are Eddie’s kids!”

”Hey, boys look this way!”

Steve’s stomach dropped as the twins froze beside him. Maverick gripped his hand tightly while Axel shrank against his side.

Shit.

”Hey, let’s just keep moving, okay?” Steve said, keeping his voice calm as he guided them forward.

But the paparazzi weren’t backing off. The cameras kept flashing and the voices grew louder.

”Who’s that guy with them?”

”Is he Eddie’s boyfriend? A bodyguard?”

Steve tightened his grip on the boys, doing his best to shield them, but just as he was about to turn back and find another way inside—“

”Alright, that’s enough!”

Eddie’s voice cut through the noise like a blade, sharp and full of authority.

Then suddenly, he was there—storming through the crowd like a force of nature, eyes dark with irritation as he pushed past cameras and reporters. His presence alone was enough to make them all stumble back a step.

Without missing a beat, Eddie placed a firm hand on Steve’s back, guiding him and the boys toward the entrance and inside the building.

“You guys okay?” He asked, voice softer now, but there was still an edge of anger beneath it.

Steve nodded, but the boys were clearly shaken. Axel clung to Steve’s leg while Maverick scowled at the cameras.

Eddie noticed.

”Hey,” he said, crouching down in front of them, ignoring the paparazzi outside the door still lingering. “You’re alright. Just ignore them, okay? They don’t matter.”

Maverick huffed. “They’re annoying.”

Eddie grinned. “Yeah, they are. But you know what? They don’t get to ruin our day.” He held out his hands. “Come on, let’s go rock out.”

Slowly, the boys nodded, taking his hands. Steve exhaled in relief, happy that the boys were safe and that the chaos was left outside.

———————

The rehearsal space was massive.

It was one of those industrial-style studios, all exposed brick and high ceilings, with a stage set up at the far end. Instruments were scattered everywhere, cables snaking across the floor. It smelled like leather, old wood, and a hint of cigarette smoke.

The second they walked in, three men immediately turned toward them.

”There’s my favorite nephews!” One of them—tall, built like a tank, with a shaved head boomed.

”Uncle Freak!” The twins shouted in unison before running straight into his arms.

Steve blinked as he took in the scene.

So these were Eddie’s bandmates.

The other man—shorter, leaner, with light brown curls—grinned. “You must be the infamous Steve, I’m Gareth.”

Steve startled. “Uh, infamous?”

Eddie smirked. “Oh, they’ve heard plenty about you.”

Steve didn’t know what to do with that, so he just nodded awkwardly as he shook their hands. “Nice to meet you guys.”

”Nice to finally meet the guy who tamed the gremlins,” Jeff said, ruffling Maverick’s hair.

Steve chuckled. “They’re not so bad.”

Eddie snorted. “You didn’t say that two weeks ago when they locked you in the pantry.”

”That was different.”

Eddie just grinned, shaking his head before turning to the boys. “Alright, you guys ready to watch the greatest band in the world?”

The twins cheered as they ran toward the stage, Steve found himself being dragged along, watching as Eddie took his place at the mic.

And then, Eddie started to play.

Steve had seen him perform before—years ago, back in high school—but this was different.

This wasn’t some talent show or battle of the bands in Hawkins. This was Eddie Munson, rockstar, in his element.

The way his fingers moved over the guitar, the way he lost himself in the music, the way his voice—rough, deep, a little gritty—filled the space. It was mesmerizing.

Steve couldn’t look away.

And maybe—just maybe—Eddie noticed.

Because when the song ended, and the room fell silent for just a moment, Eddie’s eyes flickered toward Steve, lingering just long enough to send his heart racing.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVEN

It started with thunder.

Steve was standing in Eddie’s kitchen, sipping a fresh cup of coffee, when the first low rumble echoed through the house like a warning. By the time Maverick came padding into the kitchen, the sky had opened up, sheets of rain lashing the windows.

”I guess we’re not going to the park today,” Maverick mumbled, rubbing one eye and flopping dramatically onto a chair.

“Yep,” Steve said, ruffling his curls as he set a bowl of cereal in front of him. “Today’s gonna be a stay inside kind of day.”

Axel showed up a few seconds later, holding his stuffed dragon under one arm and his blanket under the other. “Is the thunder gonna be loud again?” He asked, wide-eyed.

Steve crouched in front of him. “Maybe. But I promise it can’t get you in here. We’re safe and dry. And hey, rainy days can still be fun.”

He had just started pulling out coloring books and puzzles when the sound of shuffling feet on the stairs caught his attention. Eddie appeared in the hallway, shirtless and sleep dazed, tattoos on full display, and sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.

”Did the sky explode?” He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

Steve laughed, looking up from the floor where the boys were coloring some Marvel characters. “Yeah. You’re lucky, you missed the first big boom. Thought Maverick was gonna leap out of his skin.”

”Traitor,” Maverick muttered not looking up from the page he was coloring.

Eddie chuckled and padded into the kitchen, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think I’m gonna take the day off. No way I’m trekking out in that mess and honestly…” He trailed off, watching his boys for a moment. “Could use a slow day.”

Steve’s chest warmed a little at that. “You sure the world can survive without a rockstar for 24 hours?”

Eddie grinned. “They’ll manage. Besides, I’ve got cooler people to hang with.”

By late morning, the rain hadn’t let up, and the house had taken on that quiet, cozy atmosphere that only rainy days could conjure—muted light through the windows, the occasional distant rumble of thunder, and the steady patter of rain on the roof.

The twins were currently wrestling Eddie on the massive couch in the living room, shrieking with laughter as he playfully flipped them over his shoulders and into the cushions.

Steve stood in the kitchen doorway, watching them with a soft smile.

”Not so fast, dragon boy!” Eddie growled, grabbing Axel and lifting him upside down by his ankles. Axel howled with laughter, the dragon plush falling to the floor.

Maverick, not to be outdone, launched himself at Eddie’s back, clinging to him like a baby koala. “I’m the T-Rex and you’re extinct!”

Steve snorted into his coffee.

”You seeing this?” Eddie called over his shoulder. “Your boss is getting taken down by a couple of babies.”

”They’re eight,” Steve called back. “And honestly, they’re kicking your ass.”

“Language!” Axel chimed, upside down and giggling.

Eddie huffed dramatically and let himself fall backward onto the couch, both boys toppling on top of him. “Fine! I surrender! The mighty beats win again.”

Maverick puffed out his chest. “As it should be.”

Axel clapped his hands. “Can we do a movie now?”

An hour later, all four of them were curled up on the oversized sectional in the living room. The storm was still going strong outside, thunder rolling in steady waves, but inside everything was warm, safe and sound.

They were watching The Iron Giant, the boys tucked under a shared blanket, their heads resting on Steve and Eddie’s leg.

Steve sat at one end of the couch, Eddie at the other. At first.

But somewhere during the middle of the movie, as the room quieted and the boys drifted toward sleep, Steve realized that Eddie had shifted closer. Their legs were almost touching now. His arm draped casually over the back of the couch, his fingers just barely brushing Steve’s shoulder when he adjusted.

And then—soft, slow—Eddie’s fingers found a strand of Steve’s hair. Just a light tug at first, like he was testing the waters. When Steve didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, Eddie gently twisted a curl around his finger. Absent-minded, maybe. Or maybe not.

Steve’s heart jumped.

It was subtle. Barely anything. But Steve noticed.

And he didn’t move away.

When the movie hit one of its more emotional beats, Eddie exhaled slowly and murmured, “This part always gets me.”

Steve turned to look at him. Their eyes met.

Eddie offered a small, sheepish smile. “Soft, I know.”

Steve smiled back. “Nah. It’s kinda nice, actually.”

For a moment, the storm outside faded into background noise, and Steve was hyperaware of how warm Eddie’s thigh felt next to his. Of the gentle tug of fingers in his hair. Of how natural this all felt—movie night with the boys, laughter and quiet glances, like they were all just… a family.

He shook the thought off as quickly as it came, but the warmth lingered.

By the time the credits rolled, the boys were asleep, heads tucked against pillows, breathing slow and steady.

Eddie carefully stood, stretching a little and glancing toward the stairs. “I’ll carry them up.”

Steve nodded, watching him gently lift Maverick into his arms and disappear down the hallway, only to return a few minutes later to scoop up Axel just as carefully.

When he came back down, Steve was still sitting on the couch, the room dim and still.

“Thanks for today,” Eddie said, his voice low. “It was nice. I think they needed a day like this.”

Steve met his eyes again. “Yeah… me too.”

Eddie gave him a look—soft, thoughtful, lingering a second too long—then nodded. “Night, Harrington.”

“Night, Munson.”

Later, back at his and Robin’s apartment, Steve burst through the door still a little dazed.

Robin was on the couch in an oversized hoodie, scrolling on her phone. She looked up at him with a smirk. “You’ve got that look on your face again.”

“What look?”

“The I-just-had-an-emotionally-charged-moment-with-a-hot-rockstar-and-I-don’t-know-what-to-do-about-it look.”

Steve blinked at her. “That’s… incredibly specific.”

Robin patted the cushion next to her. “Spill.”

Steve plopped down, covering his face with both hands. “It was just—he’s so good with the boys. And today we had this movie night, and he sat really close, and it was all so… soft. And real. And I—God, Robin, I’m so screwed.”

She chuckled, tugging his hand away. “You’re not screwed. You’re falling for a hot, tattooed single dad with a heart of gold. And you’re great with his kids. It’s literally the plot of a rom-com.”

Steve groaned. “Do you think he knows?”

Robin smirked. “If he doesn’t yet, he will soon. And Steve?”

He glanced at her.

“You’re doing great. Don’t overthink it.”

Steve leaned back, staring at the ceiling, heart racing in the best kind of way.

Yeah. He might be falling a little harder than he planned.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHT

The house smelled like garlic and tomato sauce, which in Eddie’s opinion was the perfect scent for a Saturday night. He stood barefoot in the kitchen, stirring a pot of spaghetti with one hand and sipping from a glass of strawberry wine with the other.

Laughter echoed from the living room—Steve and the twins, were locked in a game of charades that had clearly gone off the rails. From what Eddie could tell, Maverick was trying to act a T-Rex doing ballet, and Steve was losing his mind guessing things like ‘dinosaur pop star’ and ‘prehistoric yoga’.

Six weeks. That’s how long Steve had been in their lives, and already it felt like he belonged here. Like this chaos and laughter was something they’d been missing without even realizing it.

Eddie hadn’t planned on asking him to stay for dinner. He never really asked anyone unless it was the guys or Wayne dropping by for a quick check-in. But earlier, when Steve had been about to leave, Axel had clung to his arm and begged him to stay for pasta. Eddie had surprised himself by saying, “Yeah, you should stay.” And when Steve smiled and said “Sure,” something in Eddie’s chest unclenched.

It felt right.

By the time the table was set—messily, with mismatched plates and superhero cups—the twins were bouncing in their seats, faces lit up with excitement.

”Spaghetti night!” Maverick cheered, raising his fork like a sword.

Axel clinked his own fork against it. “For glory!”

Steve grinned as he sat down beside them. “Are you guys always this dramatic, or is it just pasta that gets you hyped?”

”They get it from me,” Eddie said, tossing a wink at the boys.

Dinner was loud, messy, and filled with laughter. Maverick told a story about how Steve had ‘accidentally’ sprayed them all with the hose that morning, and Axel interrupted twice to correct every small detail. Eddie watched it all unfold with a smile that wouldn’t leave his face.

Steve fit. He didn’t just handle the chaos, he joined it. Enhanced it.

After the twins finished eating and ran off to build a blanket fort, Steve and Eddie stayed behind to handle the dishes. Eddie put on a record— some classic soft rock vinyl with a scratchy, mellow groove—and started rinsing plates while Steve dried.

“I still can’t believe you own dish towel of your own face,” Steve teased.

”I own two,” Eddie said proudly. 

Steve laughed, and Eddie turned to shoot him a grin just as the chorus of the song kicked in, a steady, swaying beat that practically begged for a dance.

Without really thinking, Eddie bumped his hip into Steve’s.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “You picking a fight, Munson?”

“Nope,” Eddie said, setting the plate down and extending a hand, “I’m picking a dance partner.”

Steve stared at him for half a second before huffing a laugh and slipping his hand into Eddie’s. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Mmhm. But charming.”

They swayed, slow and easy, barefoot on the kitchen tile, the warm yellow light casting shadows across their faces. Steve’s hand slid to Eddie’s shoulder while Eddie’s rested lightly at his waist, and for a minute, they were just two guys dancing in a kitchen, wrapped in music and something neither of them wanted to name just yet.

“You’re actually not bad at this,” Steve murmured.

“I was in a high school production of Beauty and the Beast, thank you very much.”

Steve chuckled. “Of course you were.”

Their eyes met, and something in the air shifted. Still playful, still light—but under it, a hum of something real. Something new.

Then the record crackled, and the moment passed, leaving both of them a little breathless.

“Okay,” Steve said, pulling back with a grin, “you officially make better pasta and better dance partners than I expected.”

Eddie flashed him a look. “Stick around, Harrington. I’ve got layers.”

After the boys were tucked in and the house was quiet, Steve grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair. Eddie leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him with a softness he didn’t bother hiding.

“Thanks for staying tonight,” he said quietly.

Steve looked back at him, fingers pausing on the zipper. “Thanks for asking me to.”

Eddie nodded. “Don’t really do this… inviting people in. But with you, it felt easy.”

Steve smiled, that warm, crooked smile that always managed to knock something loose in Eddie’s chest. “It felt easy on my end too.”

And just like that, he was out the door, stepping into the night air and heading back to wherever it was he and Robin called home.

But the warmth he left behind lingered long after the door clicked shut.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINE

The bar was packed and humming with low energy—the kind that made everything feel golden around the edges. Warm lighting, beer-sticky floors, and the distant thrum of a local band covering rock hits from the early 2000s.

Steve hadn’t been to a place like this in a while.

Eddie had invited him personally.

Eddie 🎸🤘🏼:Boys are with Wayne for a sleepover. Come hang. Bring Robin too. The guys want to see you again.

It was hard to say no to that—especially when Eddie signed off with a little winking emoji and you better dance at least once or I’m revoking your cool card.

So Steve came. Robin too, of course—wearing her favorite rings and her favorite jean jacket. They were barely through the door when Chrissy spotted them and pulled them into a three-way hug, all laughter and excitement.

Now, the three of them were on the dance floor, spinning and swaying to a gritty, upbeat cover of “You Make My Dreams.” Robin was dramatically singing the lyrics into her beer bottle, Chrissy was laughing so hard she nearly spilled her drink, and Steve—well, Steve was letting himself enjoy it.

He liked the weight of Robin’s arm slung around his shoulders. The way Chrissy reached for both of their hands to twirl them dramatically. The music, the movement—it all felt loose and warm and a little like something out of a movie.

But he could feel it, Eddie’s eyes.

Every time he turned or laughed, every time he tucked his hair behind his ear, he felt Eddie watching him.

And he was right.

Because across the room, leaning against the bar with a half-empty beer in hand, Eddie Munson was absolutely staring.

Freak elbowed him. “You’re doing that thing.”

Eddie blinked. “What thing?”

“The thing where you watch him like you’re in a coming-of-age movie and he’s the misunderstood pretty boy.”

Eddie smirked but didn’t look away. “He is the misunderstood pretty boy.”

“You’re impossible.”

“He looks happy.”

Freak nodded, following Eddie’s gaze. “Yeah. He does.”

Steve, flushed from dancing, pushed his curls off his forehead and grinned at something Chrissy said. Then he tilted his head back, laughing at Robin, who was currently doing something resembling air guitar.

Eddie leaned against the bar like his legs might give out.

And then he heard a voice beside him.

“Huh. Didn’t expect that to be your type.”

Eddie stiffened.

Abby.

She was already there—perched on the other side of the bar with her usual leather jacket, ripped jeans, and that sharp, unimpressed expression she wore like armor. Black hair, smudged eyeliner, and tattoos coiling up her collar bones.

Freak muttered, “Oh, hell,” under his breath and took a long sip of beer, tactfully turning away.

Eddie didn’t move. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

Abby smirked. “I was in the area. Figured I’d stop in. Didn’t realize you were bringing your new boy toy.”

Eddie turned to face her fully, jaw tight. “Steve’s not—he’s not a toy. He’s—he’s Steve.”

Her gaze slid back to the dance floor. “He’s cute. Looks like he belongs in a J. Crew ad. Very ‘clean cut babysitter falls for the troubled dad’ vibe.”

Eddie stayed quiet, letting the jab roll past him.

Abby glanced sideways. “Wonder if he even likes your music. Or if he’s just playing house until something better comes along.”

That got to him.

But before he could answer, she was already pushing off the bar and walking away.

And on the dance floor, Steve—feeling the weight of a stare—finally turned toward the bar. Saw her. Saw Eddie with her.

His heart sank.

She was already looking at him like she knew something he didn’t.

And then she crossed the room, her steps deliberate.

“You’re Steve, right?” she asked.

He nodded, unsure.

“Abby. I used to date Eddie.”

He tried to stay neutral, polite. “Cool.”

She glanced him up and down. “Didn’t think he’d go for someone like you.”

Steve blinked. “Someone like me?”

She smiled like she felt bad for him. “You know. Preppy. Nice hair. Real polite. He’ll get bored eventually. He always does. And when he does, he usually remembers who he really likes.”

There it was—the burn, the twist.

Steve stared at her for a beat, heart pounding.

He didn’t say anything. Just turned around, weaving through the crowd without a word.

“Steve?” Robin called after him.

Chrissy frowned.

Eddie, from across the room, stood up straighter, frowning as he watched Steve vanish out the door.

Freak grabbed his arm before he could follow. “Don’t. Give him space. Robin’s already going.”

Eddie clenched his jaw. “What did she say?”

Freak just shook his head. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.”

Eddie watched the door, guilt twisting in his chest.

Meanwhile, outside, Robin caught up to Steve just as he leaned against the wall near the alley, breathing hard.

“You okay?” she asked, gentle.

Steve didn’t answer at first. Then: “Is it stupid that I’m upset?”

“No,” she said quietly. “Not even a little.”

And inside the bar, Eddie kept staring at the door like he’d lost something he wasn’t ready to admit he wanted.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TEN

The house had finally gone still.

It was late, the kind of late where the quiet wasn’t just quiet, it felt sacred. The soft clink of mugs, the gentle hum of the fridge, the low crackle of the record Eddie had put on before tucking the twins into bed, it all created a kind of hush that wrapped around them like a blanket.

Steve leaned against the counter, fingers curled around a mug of tea, watching the steam curl up and disappear. Eddie sat at the kitchen table, long legs stretched out under the wood, his own tea untouched.

They hadn’t said much since the twins had gone down. Just moved through the bedtime routine in sync like they’d done it a hundred times—Steve helping brush Maverick’s hair, Eddie searching for Axel’s favorite stuffed dragon under the couch cushions. It felt easy. Too easy.

Which was probably why the air between them now felt thick with something unspoken.

“I owe you an apology,” Eddie said finally, breaking the silence.

Steve looked over at him.

“For what happened at the bar yesterday night,” Eddie continued, sitting forward, elbows on his knees. “Abby never should’ve talked to you like that. And I should’ve handled it better. I just froze like a damn idiot.”

Steve didn’t respond right away. He stared into his mug like the answer was hidden in the bottom.

“She made it seem like I didn’t belong,” he said after a moment, voice quiet. “Like I was some… experiment. A phase you’d get tired of. And the worst part is she knew exactly how to say it to make it feel true.”

Eddie winced. “I’m sorry, Steve. That’s not what you are. Not even close.”

Steve finally looked at him, brows drawn. “Then what am I?”

Eddie didn’t flinch. “You’re someone I didn’t see coming. Someone who showed up and started making my life feel less like a mess and more like a home.”

Steve blinked, caught off guard by how gently the words landed.

Eddie leaned back slightly, looking around the kitchen—at the messy pile of dishes they still hadn’t gotten to, at the twins’ coloring books scattered on the table, at the nightlight glow spilling in from the hallway.

“I used to think I was built for chaos,” Eddie said. “Touring, late nights, noise, motion. I chased it because I didn’t know what else to want. And then the boys came, and suddenly I had this reason to want quiet. Stability. But I still didn’t know what that looked like.”

He looked at Steve then, really looked at him.

“And then you walked in and started doing shit like labeling the leftovers and remembering which twin likes his sandwiches cut diagonally,” Eddie said with a crooked grin. “And it just… clicked. Like, oh. This is it. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.”

Steve laughed softly, looking away for a second to collect himself.

“Still sounds like you’re calling me boring.”

Eddie stood and took a step closer, smiling with that soft look he reserved for very few people.

“Nah,” he said, voice low. “You’re steady. And kind. And more patient than anyone gives you credit for. And maybe I didn’t realize how much I needed that until you started showing up in all the little spaces in my life.”

Steve’s smile faded just a bit, eyes flicking to Eddie’s mouth, then back up.

“You’re making it very hard not to kiss you right now,” Steve said, half-joking.

Eddie didn’t move away. “Then don’t.”

They leaned in, slowly, like gravity was pulling them. And for a heartbeat, the only thing between them was breath and want and the warmth radiating off shared glances.

But then—

“Daddy?” Axel’s small, tired voice drifted down the stairs.

They both startled slightly, stepping back without speaking.

Eddie turned quickly, already moving toward the hallway. “Hey, bud, what’s wrong?”

“My tummy hurts…”

Steve watched them disappear upstairs, the warmth of the moment still lingering on his skin like static.

He stayed in the kitchen, alone again, heart pounding just a little too loud. He didn’t know what would’ve happened if Max hadn’t interrupted—but he knew what he wanted to happen.

And maybe that was the scariest part.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Eddie hadn’t meant to make it a big deal when he invited Steve and Robin to the Grammys. At least that’s what he told himself. Just a casual invitation, “come hang out with me and the band, glam it up, meet some industry weirdos.” But as the black SUV pulled up to the red carpet and Eddie caught sight of Steve beside him in the dim light, it hit him how beautiful Steve was.

Steve stepped out first, the camera flashes sparking the moment his polished black shoes hit the pavement. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit with a slim fit, the jacket cut just enough to show off the curve of his waist and the broad line of his shoulders. A sheer black button down shirt shimmered subtly beneath, open at the collar, no tie in sight. His hair was styled to perfection, messy but intentional and there was something undeniably striking about how he moved. 

Confident. Effortless. Like he belonged there.

Eddie followed wearing a black crushed velvet blazer embroidered with dark red roses along the sleeves and collar, silver chains layered over a deep V-neck mesh shirt that showed the tattoo on his sternum and ribs. Tight black pants hugged his legs and he’d gone full rockstar with the accessories; rings, eyeliner, even a safety pin through one ear. He caught Steve looking at him as they approached the carpet.

”What?” Eddie muttered with a smirk.

Steve grinned, eyes flickering over him shamelessly. “Just didn’t know you had your own category for ‘Hot Vampire Rockstar’.”

Eddie bumped him lightly with his shoulder. “That’s ‘Best Dressed in Eternal Damnation’ to you, Harrington.”

Robin trailed behind them with Chrissy, both looking like absolute knockouts. Robin wore a burgundy suit with a black silk shirt and combat boots, her hair slicked back in a way that made Eddie do a double take. Chrissy beamed at her side in a deep green velvet dress with celestial embroidery along the hem, laughing at whatever Robin had whispered in her ear.

The whole group—Eddie, Steve, Robin, Chrissy, Gareth and his girlfriend Remi, Jeff and his partner Luca, and Freak with his fiancé Remy; made their way down the carpet, pausing for photos. Steve and Robin got dragged into a few band shots, which felt…oddly right.

At one point, Steve leaned in close to whisper something to Eddie, his hand barely brushing Eddie’s back.

”You’ve got a lipstick smudge on your jaw,” Steve said, his voice low. “Or maybe it’s blood. Hard to tell.”

Eddie turned, caught just how close their faces were. “You offering to clean it off for me, pretty boy?”

”I’m not your assistant,” Steve said dryly but his lips curled into a smile, and he did swipe his thumb along Eddie’s skin, lingering a little too long.

The camera flashes didn’t miss a second of it.

Inside the venue, they sat at a round table near the front. The guys were up for Best Rock Album, and though Eddie tried to act chill, his knee was bouncing. Steve placed a steady hand on it under the table.

”Nervous?” Steve asked.

”Please,” Eddie said. “I eat nerves for breakfast.”

”You don’t have any butterflies in your stomach?”

”Only when you’re looking at me like that.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but his cheeks went pink.

The rest of the night was filled with whispered jokes, stolen glances, and shared drinks. Steve chatted easily with other artists, made Chrissy laugh so hard she nearly choked on champagne, and danced with Robin during one of the musical performances, spinning her around with a dramatic flair that had their whole table applauding.

When Corroded Coffin won the award, Eddie stood up and hugged everyone, but it was Steve he pulled in last. Their arms lingered. Just for a second too long.

And later, when the night was winding down, a paparazzi photo would go viral: Eddie leaning in close, whispering something in Steve’s ear, both of them laughing, Steve’s hand on Eddie’s chest. Fans would zoom in on the way Steve looked at him, like he saw every version of Eddie, the chaos and the calm and liked them all.

Back in the limo, with awards on laps and shoes kicked off, Robin muttered sleepily, “You two are so obvious it’s painful.”

Eddie just smiled, glancing at Steve, who was pretending not to hear.

But the glint in his eyes said everything.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWELVE

It started around noon on a rainy Saturday.

The apartment was unusually quiet for a day without school or band obligations, the kind of cozy silence that came from gray skies and the steady drum of rain against the windows. Steve was in the kitchen making grilled cheese for lunch, humming under his breath to a Fleetwood Mac song playing low from his phone speaker.

Maverick and Axel were nowhere to be seen. Which, in Steve’s experience, was rarely a good sign.

He glanced toward the living room, where their usual pile of Legos and action figures sat untouched.

“Boys?” he called out.

“We’re in our room!” Maverick shouted back.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah!” Axel said, then after a beat added, “We’re doing important twin stuff!”

Steve snorted, flipping a sandwich in the pan. “That’s not suspicious at all.”

But when they emerged a few minutes later for lunch, their faces were full of that specific brand of innocence that only meant one thing: mischief. Small, harmless, probably sticky mischief.

Steve raised an eyebrow as they took their plates to the table.

“What’s the important twin stuff about?”

“Classified,” Axel said, biting into his sandwich.

“Super top secret,” Maverick added, crumbs falling onto his plate.

Steve just shook his head, amused, and sat down with them. The rain kept falling, the windows fogging slightly at the corners. It was the kind of afternoon that asked for board games and socks with little grippy pads on the bottom. The kind that slowed everything down in the best way.

After lunch, Maverick offered to help clean up, something that had happened maybe twice in his entire life. Steve gave him a skeptical look.

“You’re either sick or scheming,” he said.

“I can’t just be nice?”

“You can. You just don’t usually choose to be.”

Maverick grinned. “Maybe I’m mature now.”

Steve ruffled his hair. “Mmm, I’ll believe it when I see it.”

By midafternoon, the twins had vanished again, and Steve figured they were either building another fort or trying to invent a new sport involving couch cushions and Nerf darts. But when he walked past their room, he heard whispering.

“—he wears Dad’s hoodie sometimes.”

“Yeah! And he makes Dad laugh way more than, like, anyone else.”

Steve paused outside the door, lips twitching.

“We could help,” Axel said. “But we gotta be sneaky. Like, casual.”

Steve backed away before they realized he was eavesdropping. Whatever plan was brewing, he had a feeling it would make itself known soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phase One: Hoodie Test

Around three o’clock, Axel appeared with a hoodie in his hands; Eddie’s favorite worn-in one, the one that always hung on the back of the kitchen chair or ended up in a pile on the couch.

“You look cold,” Axel said.

Steve looked up from the puzzle he was working on with Maverick. “I’m fine.”

“But like… hoodies are better than shirts.”

Steve tilted his head. “That’s a bold fashion statement.”

“Just wear it,” Axel insisted, holding it out like it was a gift.

Steve narrowed his eyes, then slipped it on, just to humor him. “Happy?”

Axel beamed. “Very.”

Phase Two: Operation Fancy Dinner

The next mission became obvious around five. Maverick tugged at Steve’s sleeve while he was cleaning up puzzle pieces.

“Can we have dinner at the table tonight?”

“We always eat at the table,” Steve said.

“No, like fancy. With the nice plates and the cool napkins.”

Steve gave him a look. “You want ambiance.”

“Yeah!” Maverick said brightly. “You get it.”

Steve smirked. “And this has nothing to do with you two acting like secret agents all day?”

Maverick just grinned.

By the time Eddie got home from a mid-afternoon band meeting, the dining table was set with ceramic plates, folded paper towels that the boys insisted were napkins, and two flameless tea light candles flickering at the center. The twins were already seated, trying their best to act natural.

Eddie stepped inside and blinked. “Uh… did I miss someone’s birthday?”

“Nope,” Axel said.

“We’re just elevating the experience,” Maverick added.

Steve emerged from the kitchen, still wearing Eddie’s hoodie, holding a big bowl of spaghetti. “I let them plan dinner. Apparently I have no authority anymore.”

Eddie chuckled and dropped his keys into the dish by the door. “And I’m guessing you had no idea what they were up to today?”

“Oh, I had suspicions,” Steve said. “They’ve been whispering all day like they’re in a spy movie.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maverick said quickly.

Eddie ruffled his hair on the way to his seat. “Sure, bud.”

They ate together, the four of them, while the rain eased up outside and the city lights began to blink on. The conversation was full of giggles and teasing; Maverick trying to convince everyone he could beat Steve at arm wrestling (he could not), and Axel sharing a weird dream he’d had about a skateboarding dog.

Eddie passed Steve the garlic bread. “You still win the prize for making them eat something green this week.”

“Bribery,” Steve said. “I traded two cookies and ten minutes past bedtime for that broccoli.”

“Classic.”

Steve smiled. “I learned from the best.”

Eddie looked at him, a little surprised. Then smiled back.

The twins caught the exchange, shared a satisfied look, and tucked it away as evidence.

Phase Three: Casual Questions

Later, when Steve was helping the boys get ready for bed, the interrogation resumed.

“Do you like Dad?” Axel asked casually, while Steve folded their clean laundry.

“Sure,” Steve said, handing him a pair of pajama pants. “He’s a great guy.”

“Cool,” Axel said with a shrug that was way too deliberate.

Maverick chimed in from his bunk. “We just think he’s better when you’re around.”

Steve looked up, surprised. “Better?”

“Less grumpy. He smiles more,” Maverick said. “Also, your grilled cheese is way better than his.”

“I’ll take that as the highest honor.”

The boys crawled into bed, and Steve tucked them in like always. Just before flicking off the light, Maverick yawned and mumbled, “I think the mission worked.”

Steve chuckled softly. “What mission?”

“Nothing,” Axel said.

“Classified,” Maverick added.

~~~~~~~~~

Steve grabbed his bag and headed for the door, where Eddie was standing with his arms crossed, shoulder leaning against the wall.

“They been grilling you too?” Eddie asked.

“Oh yeah. Very casual questions.”

Eddie smiled, then glanced down at the hoodie. “You keeping that?”

“Axel made me wear it. I didn’t have a choice.”

Eddie nodded slowly. “Right. Kid’s got taste.”

Steve took it off and handed it over. “You’ll probably find it under Maverick’s pillow tomorrow.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

They shared a small laugh, something warm and easy that filled the quiet space between them.

Steve pulled on his jacket. “Alright, I’m out. Tell the spies they were amazing at being sneaky when they wake up tomorrow.”

Eddie opened the door. “Will do. Maybe I should calm it down with letting them James Bond movies.” 

Steve laughed.

And as he stepped into the night, the rain starting again in a gentle patter behind him, Eddie closed the door with a soft click, shaking his head and smiling to himself.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Steve stood in front of the full-length mirror in his room, smoothing down the front of his shirt for what had to be the fifth time in ten minutes.

“You’re gonna give yourself anxiety burns,” Robin called from the bathroom, the sound of her layering necklaces echoing down the hall. “Just leave it alone, Harrington. You look stupidly good.”

He didn’t answer right away. He was still adjusting the hang of the silver chain on his belt, eyeing the way his dark jeans fit; not too tight, but snug enough to do something flattering. The black-on-black layers made him look a little more downtown than his usual khakis-and-polo vibe, and he wasn’t sure if it felt natural yet. The plaid overshirt added some texture, the boots were broken in but sturdy, and the whole look; well, it looked like someone who didn’t spend most of his days doing lunchbox negotiations and supervising playground games.

Robin finally emerged, clinking softly with every step thanks to the various rings and necklaces she’d stacked on. She wore loose tan cargo pants cinched with a studded belt, a cropped olive tank top, and a sheer black button-up left open. Her hair was tousled and cool, and she looked like she belonged in the crowd already.

“Okay, who is this? Because it’s not the suburban babysitter who labels his leftovers in the fridge,” she teased, grabbing her phone and giving him a once-over. “You’re giving ‘mysterious stranger who used to be in a band but now owns a record store and makes killer pour-over coffee.’ I love it.”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You really think it’s not too much?”

“I think you’re going to make Eddie Munson forget how to play guitar.”

That shut him up.

~~~~~~~~~~

The venue wasn’t huge, but it was packed. A gritty downtown bar turned music hall, with walls covered in vintage band posters and years of layered graffiti. There was the usual buzz in the air, the low hum of amps being tested, the metallic smell of cheap beer and sweat and electricity. Steve trailed after Robin as she maneuvered them through the crowd like a seasoned concert-goer, grinning like this was her natural habitat.

They weren’t on the list or anything, but Chrissy caught them halfway in and pulled them right through the front barrier like she ran the place. Which, from the way people greeted her, it seemed like she sort of did.

“Robin!” Chrissy beamed and pulled her into a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than necessary.

Steve stood awkwardly beside them as Robin hugged her back, all sunshine and soft grins in contrast to the moody lighting. When they finally stepped apart, Chrissy gave Steve a once-over and smirked.

“Well, now I see why Eddie’s been so twitchy today.”

Steve snorted. “That’s just his baseline.”

Chrissy winked but said nothing more, pulling Robin toward the bar with a toss of her head. “Come on, I’m getting you a drink.”

Robin turned to Steve and pointed at him. “Don’t move. I’m not letting you get lost in a crowd of sweaty leather jackets.”

“Not going anywhere,” he promised, though his eyes flicked toward the stage. The lights were dimming. The crowd pressed forward.

And then—

The first riff ripped through the air, gritty and full of attitude. The bass hit, the drums crashed in like thunder, and the stage lit up in flashes of red and white. There was Gareth behind his kit, Jeff slamming into the bass line, Freak shredding like the guitar owed him money.

And Eddie; Jesus.

Eddie Munson was all wild hair, stomping boots, sweat-dark denim, and a sleeveless shirt that looked like it had survived a mosh pit. He stalked the stage like it belonged to him, yelling something into the mic that was eaten up by the roar of the crowd before launching into the first verse. His voice was ragged in the best way, full of teeth and soul, and Steve just—froze.

He’d seen Eddie play before. Once. During a practice with Maverick and Axel tossing Goldfish into Gareth’s cymbals and Jeff apologizing profusely while Eddie laughed himself hoarse.

This? This was not that.

This was Eddie on fire. This was Eddie alive.

Robin reappeared beside him, eyes wide and electric. “Holy shit,” she shouted in his ear. “He’s really good.”

Steve couldn’t even answer. His heart was a little too busy doing something strange in his chest, watching the way Eddie moved, the easy way he commanded the room. There was no self-consciousness to him up there. Just music, sweat, light.

Halfway through the second song, Eddie’s eyes flicked out into the crowd—and found Steve.

It was a single second, maybe two. But it was locked in.

And then Eddie grinned.

That smirk. That goddamn smirk.

He held the eye contact for one beat longer than necessary—long enough that Steve felt it like a static shock—before tossing his head back and launching into the next verse, shredding a solo like it was written in his bones.

Steve didn’t look away.

He couldn’t.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The final note still echoed in the hollows of Steve’s chest when the house lights dimmed and the crowd surged with cheers. He barely heard the noise. All he could see was Eddie, soaked in sweat, shirt clinging to his torso, curls wild and eyes glittering like something untamed. That infamous smirk curved on his lips the second his eyes locked with Steve’s.

Steve’s breath caught. His stomach flipped.

The lights went black.

“Holy shit,” Robin said breathlessly beside him. “He looked like he wanted to devour you.”

Steve didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Chrissy was suddenly at their side, glowing from the inside out. “Let’s go before we get trampled.”

She led them quickly through a side door guarded by security, flashing her badge with practiced ease. The hallway was dim, buzzing faintly with leftover vibrations from the concert. The air smelled like sweat, metal, and lingering adrenaline.

As they passed a mirror, Steve caught his reflection; hair tousled, the silver chain around his neck glinting under fluorescent light, dark jeans hugging his hips just right. Robin had insisted he looked “hot in a moody, accidentally mysterious way,” and now, with Eddie’s smirk still burned into his brain, he was starting to believe her.

Chrissy threw open the dressing room door, revealing a space humming with laughter and music and a bottle already being passed around. Robin made a beeline for the couch with Gareth and Chrissy, sliding in next to them like she belonged there.

Steve stayed near the door.

And then Eddie looked up.

He was standing by the mirror, towel around his neck, curls damp, arms glistening. His gaze zeroed in on Steve—and the room disappeared.

“Nice of you to show,” Eddie said, voice low and sandpaper-rough from the stage.

Steve swallowed. “You were… really fucking good.”

Eddie’s mouth twitched. He stepped forward, eyes unreadable. “Can we—uh. Come with me?”

Steve blinked. “Where?”

“Somewhere not full of drunk idiots.”

Eddie didn’t wait for an answer. He turned and slipped through the far door, the one marked Crew Only. Steve hesitated, pulse thudding in his neck, then followed.

The hallway beyond was narrow and quiet, full of pipes and peeling paint. Eddie led them around a corner, through another door, and into a small green room clearly meant for overflow crew. It was empty. A couch, a table with lukewarm water bottles, a scratched-up coffee machine. Dim lighting, no windows.

The door clicked shut behind them.

Eddie didn’t speak at first. He paced once, ran a hand through his hair, then turned to Steve like the weight of the world had suddenly dropped on his shoulders.

Eddie leaned in closer, closer until Steve could feel the whisper of his breath. His lips barely grazed Steve’s. A breath, a hesitation—

And then Eddie jerked back like he’d touched a live wire.

“Fuck,” he whispered, backing up fast. His hand scrubbed over his mouth, eyes wild. “I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”

Steve stared at him, stunned. “Are you serious?”

“I want to,” Eddie said quickly, almost desperately. “God, I want to. I’ve been thinking about it, dreaming about it, aching for it. But if I let myself have this; if I let myself have you—it won’t be casual. It won’t be fun. It’ll be all-consuming. And if I lose that—if I lose you—I won’t survive it.”

Steve barked a bitter laugh. “So your solution is to not even try? Jesus, Eddie.”

“It’s not that simple—”

“No, it never fucking is with you,” Steve snapped. His voice was low, rough with frustration. “You act like you’re the only one who’s scared. Like I’m just some… safe little constant you can keep on the back burner while you figure your shit out. Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think it doesn’t hurt every time you pull away like I’m something dangerous?”

Eddie looked like he’d been slapped. “Steve, that’s not what I meant—”

“But it’s what you did,” Steve shot back. “You keep dangling this thing between us like it’s a maybe. Like it’s something you get to put on pause while the rest of us wait around for you to be ready.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” Eddie whispered.

“Well, you are,” Steve said, voice shaking. “And maybe you don’t mean to, maybe it’s just you being scared or messed up or whatever—but I’m done pretending it doesn’t affect me. I can’t keep orbiting around your fear. I deserve more than that.”

Eddie’s mouth opened, then closed again. He looked wrecked. Like Steve’s words had gutted him more than any rejection ever could.

“I need time,” he said finally, quietly. “Because if I touch you right now, I won’t stop. And I’m not ready for what comes next.”

Steve exhaled, harsh and shaky, like he was trying to stop himself from yelling. He nodded once, the movement stiff. “Fine. Take your time. But don’t expect me to just stand here frozen while you figure your shit out. I’m not some safety net you can come back to whenever it’s convenient.”

Eddie flinched.

“I’ll be here,” Steve said, voice softer but still steel-edged. “But I’m not waiting in the dark.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him with finality.

Eddie stayed rooted in place.

The silence left in Steve’s wake felt heavier than any crowd, any stage, any spotlight. It felt like consequence. It felt like loss.

And for the first time in years, Eddie wasn’t scared of failure. He was scared that he’d already failed the one person who saw through all the noise—and gave a damn anyway.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“I almost kissed him last night.”

Robin didn’t even look up from where she was digging through the cereal cupboard. “Almost? As in, lips brushed but no full makeout?”

Steve groaned and dropped his head onto the kitchen table. “As in, I could feel his breath, his hands were on me, it was—God, it was everything. And then he pulled away like I’d set him on fire.”

Robin finally turned, holding a box of off-brand cereal like it had betrayed her. “Okay. So, dramatic?”

“You think?” Steve snapped.

“I mean, Eddie Munson pulling away before kissing you is, like, peak tortured love interest,” she said, pouring herself a bowl. “But also very Eddie. He’s probably spiraling in his head, convinced that if he kisses you he’ll combust or something.”

“He literally said that,” Steve muttered. “He said he wasn’t ready. That if he let himself have this; me, it wouldn’t be casual. It’d be everything. And he’s terrified of ruining it.”

Robin’s chewing slowed. “Okay, so he’s a disaster. But he’s your disaster.”

“I’m not asking him for everything. I just want him to try.” Steve looked up, tired and raw around the eyes. “Is that too much?”

Robin walked over and dropped into the chair across from him. “No. But he’s probably never tried like this before. Not for something that actually matters.”

Steve didn’t answer. He just stared at the coffee in front of him like maybe it held the answer. It didn’t.

~~~~~~~~

Eddie opened the door like nothing had happened.

“Hey,” he said, stepping aside as Steve entered with his usual bag and guarded expression.

“Maverick and Axel?” Steve asked curtly.

“Upstairs. Wrestling a stuffed bear and each other.”

“Sounds safe,” Steve muttered, brushing past him.

The air in the house was heavy; charged. They moved around each other like magnets flipped the wrong way. Close, but never connecting.

Steve found the boys building a “dragon-proof” wrestling out of their pillows and  blankets, and very questionable logic.

“Hey monsters,” he said, forcing a smile. “How’s construction?”

Axel immediately threw himself at Steve with a shriek. Maverick launched a stuffed stegosaurus at his head. Normal chaos. Grounding. But behind the laughter and flying pillows, Steve felt it: the stare. Eddie, standing in the doorway again, arms crossed, eyes full of something unreadable.

When Steve looked up, Eddie looked away.

At lunch, the tension hit its peak. Eddie reached for the juice at the same time Steve did. Their hands brushed. They both jerked away.

“You okay?” Axel asked, chewing with his mouth open.

“Fine,” Steve and Eddie said at once.

The twins didn’t seem to notice. Steve wished he could say the same.

After lunch, Maverick and Axel curled up in their fort for “dragon nap time,” and Steve headed into the kitchen to clean up. Eddie followed, hovering like a ghost.

“I’m not mad at you,” Eddie said quietly, leaning against the counter.

Steve didn’t turn around. “Funny. Because I’m furious.”

Silence.

“I can’t keep doing this thing where we pretend nothing’s happening,” Steve said, finally spinning around. “Because it is happening, Eddie. It already happened. It’s in every look, every time I touch your hand, every goddamn second I’m in this house.”

Eddie’s voice was hoarse. “I’m scared.”

“So am I,” Steve snapped. “But I still showed up today.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” Eddie said, more defensive than he meant to sound.

Steve’s eyes darkened. “No. But Maverick and Axel did.”

Eddie flinched like the names were sharp.

Steve kept going. “They’re the reason I’m still here. Because I can’t let them down. But you? You keep pushing me away and expecting me to stay.”

Eddie opened his mouth, but Steve was already walking past him.

“I’m not a punching bag for your fear, Eddie.”

Behind him, he heard it—soft, cracked, barely there.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

Steve paused in the doorway, jaw clenched. Then, without turning, he said:

“Then stop acting like you already have.”

And he left the room.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The front door slammed.

Steve startled from where he was curled on the couch with a half-read book and his phone playing some podcast he wasn’t really paying attention to. He blinked at the clock. 10:42 PM. The boys had gone down hours ago, exhausted from an afternoon full of pirate games and bath-time chaos. Steve had stayed, like always. And Eddie…was finally home.

But not quietly.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie muttered somewhere in the entryway. The thump of his boots hitting the floor was followed by the sound of something—his jacket? A bag?—being flung hard against the wall.

Steve sighed and stood, moving to the hallway just in time to see Eddie storm into the kitchen like a black storm cloud wrapped in leather and frustration.

“They fucking ambushed us,” Eddie snapped, yanking open the fridge. “Like full-on ambush, Steve. Started asking about the album and then went straight into that tabloid shit. ‘How does it feel being the washed-up metal act clinging to relevance? Is the band heading towards a break up?”

Steve leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “And here I was, thinking you’d be happy to see me.”

Eddie spun around, eyes wild. “You think I’m not?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Sure doesn’t feel like it.”

That stopped Eddie in his tracks. His face shifted—less rage now, more regret.

“I didn’t mean to come in like this,” he said, quieter. “Just—some of those questions, they got under my skin. And then Gareth looked like he was gonna punch someone and Jeff actually did spill beer on a sound guy and Freak was one second from crashing out plus I’ve had a migraine brewing since noon.”

Steve studied him for a long moment. “You know you can’t take it out on me, right?”

Eddie sighed. “I know.”

Silence stretched. Eddie rubbed the back of his neck and looked everywhere but Steve’s face. “Are the boys asleep?”

Steve nodded. “Out cold. Axel snored through half of ‘Where the Wild Things Are.’ Maverick insists he’s not tired but was out before I turned off the light.”

Eddie smiled faintly, eyes softening. “They really like you.”

Steve’s heart gave a small, traitorous tug. “Yeah. I like them too.”

He meant them, of course. But also—him.

Eddie finally looked at him, really looked at him, and Steve could see it—the exhaustion and anger giving way to something else. Something raw.

“I’m still mad at you,” Steve said, stepping closer.

Eddie’s lips quirked. “Yeah?”

“You can’t keep shutting me out and expecting me to just bounce back like nothing happened.”

Eddie nodded, slow and guilty. “I know.”

Another beat passed. Then,

“You looked hot, by the way,” Steve muttered. “Saw some photos from the interview on Twitter. Messy hair, eyeliner, the whole tortured frontman thing.”

Eddie smirked, even as his shoulders sagged a little. “Thought you were mad.”

“I am,” Steve said. “But I’m not blind.”

That earned a low laugh from Eddie. “You’ve got a type, huh?”

“Apparently it’s emotionally constipated rockstars with commitment issues.”

That made Eddie full-on laugh, a real one this time. His head dropped back, curls shaking, and Steve could’ve sworn his heart physically flipped in his chest.

Eddie stepped closer. The space between them shrank with every breath.

“You stayed,” Eddie said, voice rough. “Even when I didn’t deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmured. “I did.”

One more step. Barely any room left between them.

“I think about kissing you every damn day,” Eddie said. “And I’m tired of pretending I don’t.”

Steve’s voice was steady, but his heart was racing. “Then stop pretending.”

And finally Eddie leaned in.

It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hesitant. It was warm and sure, soft at first, then deeper, messier, fuller as hands found faces and mouths opened with want and familiarity. Steve felt it down to his toes—the weight of every almost, every near miss, every “not yet.”

Eddie kissed like he’d been starving. Like Steve was the only thing that had ever tasted right.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, Eddie grinned. “So, uh… still mad?”

Steve blinked up at him, dazed. “A little.”

Eddie leaned back in, nose brushing his cheek. “Think I can fix that.”

Steve laughed, quiet and shaky. “You better try. Hard.”

Eddie kissed him again, slower this time. Sweeter.

And upstairs, behind closed doors, Maverick and Axel slept soundly, dreaming dragon dreams—while their dad finally kissed the boy who made the house feel like home.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The wine bottle was half gone and the reality show on TV had hit a new low—even by Steve and Robin’s standards.

Some couple was screaming at each other about hair extensions and dog custody when Steve finally said it out loud.

“I kissed him.”

Robin, mid-sip, nearly spit her wine. “You what?”

Steve didn’t look at her. He was sunk deep into the couch, legs stretched out, a throw blanket tangled around his ankles. “We kissed. Or, I guess, he kissed me. Kind of. We kissed each other. It happened.”

Robin set her glass down with dramatic slowness. “Okay, back it up. I need details. Context. Vibes. Tongue?”

Steve groaned, pressing his face into a pillow. “You are the worst.”

“And yet you’re still talking to me,” she said, grinning. “Come on. I’ve been emotionally invested in this slow-burn for weeks.”

Steve peeked over the pillow. “He came home late. After the interviews. He was in a mood—pissed off, tired, kinda raw. And I was still mad about what happened before, but then he looked at me, and it just… happened.”

Robin’s teasing softened into something gentler. “Was it good?”

Steve exhaled. “Yeah. Like, stupid good.”

She smiled. “And now?”

“Now?” Steve muttered. “Now I have no idea what we are. He hasn’t texted me or anything. I’m going over tomorrow like normal, but… I don’t know what to expect.”

Robin clinked her glass gently against his. “Well, whatever happens, you’ve got this. And if you don’t, I’ll throw a shoe at him for you.”

“Thanks,” Steve said dryly. “That’s very supportive.”

The next morning, Steve was ten minutes early to Eddie’s house and already regretting it.

Maverick and Axel were in the middle of building an epic couch fort when he walked in, and they barely looked up, too absorbed in what sounded like a highly complex game involving pirates, lava, and pizza.

Eddie, on the other hand, looked up immediately from where he stood in the kitchen. He looked like he hadn’t slept. His curls were still damp from a rushed shower, and there was a smear of coffee grounds on his shirt.

“Hey,” he said, voice a little hoarse. 

“Hey,” Steve echoed, setting down his bag.

The silence that followed felt heavier than it should. Not angry; just thick with things unsaid.

“You guys hungry?” Steve asked the boys, forcing his voice into a lighter tone.

“Starving!” Maverick shouted.

“I want a pirate sandwich!” Axel added, climbing over a pillow mountain.

Steve looked to Eddie. “Any idea what that means?”

Eddie shrugged. “Honestly, I stopped trying to decode their lingo around age five.”

As the day went on, the awkwardness lingered like a fog neither of them could quite break. They danced around each other—Steve keeping busy with snacks and games, Eddie retreating to his office to catch up on emails. Every time they passed in the hallway or brushed shoulders in the kitchen, the air crackled. But neither said anything.

It wasn’t until the boys were finally in bed, snoring softly under a blanket of stuffed animals and plastic swords, that Steve wandered into the kitchen to find Eddie leaning against the counter, staring into a half-empty beer.

“Hey,” Steve said.

Eddie glanced up. “Hey.”

They stood in silence again, the kind that felt more like a question waiting to be asked.

“I’ve been thinking,” Eddie started, rubbing the back of his neck. “About what happened.”

Steve crossed his arms, leaning against the fridge. “Me too.”

Eddie didn’t look at him at first. His thumb ran slow circles around the neck of the beer bottle. “Last night… it meant something to me. I don’t know what to call it yet, and yeah, I’m scared shitless. But it wasn’t nothing. Not even close.”

Steve’s chest softened. “It wasn’t nothing for me either.”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Eddie said quietly. “Not with you. Not with the boys.”

Steve stepped forward, until they were standing barely a foot apart.

“I don’t know what we are,” he admitted. “But I know what I want. I want something real. I want you. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s hard.”

Eddie’s breath caught. “You sure?”

Steve gave him a crooked smile. “You’re an idiot if you think I stuck around through tantrums, ketchup explosions, and thirty-three viewings of Shrek 2 because I wasn’t sure.”

Eddie barked a surprised laugh. “God, you’re ridiculous.”

“But charming,” Steve added.

“And stupidly good with kids.”

“Don’t forget incredibly hot.”

“Obviously.”

Eddie’s smile faded into something quieter, more serious. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I want to try. If you’re still in.”

Steve nodded. “I’ve been in.”

And for the first time all day, the tension lifted. Not completely, not perfectly—but enough.

They stood there for a long second, just looking at each other. Then Eddie gestured toward the living room. “You wanna sit for a bit?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “Yeah, I do.”

They sank onto the couch together. Not too close at first. But then Steve shifted, one knee brushing Eddie’s. And then his hand found Eddie’s jaw, fingertips brushing the curve of his cheek.

“I meant it,” Steve said, voice soft but firm. “I want this.”

Eddie didn’t say anything. He just leaned in and kissed him.

This kiss wasn’t tentative like the last one. It was deeper, needier—charged with all the things they hadn’t been able to say. Eddie’s hands found Steve’s waist, pulling him closer until Steve was straddling his lap, arms wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders.

It didn’t feel like a decision. It just happened—Steve grinding down slow, mouths open and greedy, fingers digging into hair and hips like they were both afraid to let go. The room spun a little, soft with low gasps and breathy laughter.

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered against Steve’s lips. “You feel—God, you feel good.”

Steve bit his lip, breath hitching. “So do you. This is so stupid, we should stop. We shouldn’t be making out on the couch.”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie murmured, pulling him back in.

It wasn’t sex. It wasn’t casual. It was something charged and aching and real.

When they finally broke apart, Steve’s cheeks were flushed, Eddie’s curls a mess from where Steve had fisted them.

They stayed tangled together on the couch, breathing hard, hearts thudding.

And for the first time in weeks, it didn’t feel uncertain. It felt like the start of something they might actually be ready for.

Something worth falling into—together.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Steve wasn’t technically doing anything wrong.

Sure, maybe he lingered a little longer in Eddie’s hugs now. Maybe he smiled a little wider when Eddie brushed past him in the kitchen. And maybe there had been a stolen kiss or two behind the pantry door when the boys were too busy watching cartoons to notice.

But apparently Maverick and Axel noticed everything.

It started the next morning when Steve showed up at the house, hands in his pockets, pretending like this was any other day.

Eddie met him at the door, hair still damp from his shower, wearing a soft hoodie that Steve was pretty sure belonged to him. His smile was just a little too fond to pass as casual.

Steve thought he was playing it cool right up until Maverick’s suspicious little voice called out from behind the couch.

“Did you guys kiss?”

Steve choked on air. “What?”

Maverick popped his head up over the couch cushions, grinning. “You heard me.”

Axel, still half-wrapped in his superhero blanket, didn’t even look up from his tablet. “They totally kissed. Duh.”

Steve shot Eddie a wide eyed help me look.

Eddie’s mouth twitched, like he was trying really hard not to laugh. “What makes you think that?”

“Because you look all weird and smiley now,” Maverick said, climbing over the back of the couch. “And you let Steve have the last cookie last night. You never share the last cookie.”

“That was suspicious,” Axel agreed, finally glancing up.

“And,” Maverick added dramatically, pointing between them, “you both keep doing the secret smile thing.”

Steve blinked. “Secret smile thing?”

Axel hopped down from the couch and crossed his arms like he was making a formal announcement. “Yeah. Like this.” He scrunched up his face into an exaggerated wide eyed, teeth biting grin that, unfortunately, looked exactly like the face Eddie had made at Steve in the kitchen the night before.

Steve groaned, dragging his hand over his face. “I hate this. I want to die.”

Eddie, on the other hand, was doubled over laughing.

Maverick grinned wickedly. “So… are you Steve’s boyfriend now?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow at Steve, still grinning. “Am I?”

Steve rolled his eyes but couldn’t fight his own smile. “I don’t know. Are you?”

Eddie looked back at the boys. “Maybe. Think I’d make a good boyfriend?”

Axel nodded seriously. “Yeah, but you should still let Steve have the last cookie sometimes.”

“And he should be allowed to pick the movie once in a while,” Maverick added.

Eddie smirked. “You guys drive a hard bargain.”

“Deal,” Steve said, playing along. “But only if I get veto power over any more pirate themed sandwiches.”

The twins gasped in horror.

“You wouldn’t,” Maverick whispered.

“Try me,” Steve shot back.

That set the tone for the rest of the day.

It was chaos from the moment Eddie left for band errands to when he returned in the afternoon. Maverick and Axel were wired; building obstacle courses in the living room, turning the couch cushions into “lava-proof islands,” demanding to be chased through the house with pool noodles.

Steve was pretty sure he pulled something in his back diving over a pillow fort to tag Axel, but it didn’t matter. They were loud, they were wild, and they were absolutely relentless.

When Eddie came home, he didn’t even get a chance to set his keys down before Maverick barreled into him.

“Daddy! Steve’s really fast now! He caught me like this close!”

Axel popped out from behind the chair. “We’re making him stronger so he can keep up with us forever.”

Eddie laughed, ruffling both their hair. “Good, I’m glad you’re wearing him out.”

Steve flopped onto the couch, groaning. “Mission accomplished.”

After dinner, after the epic cleanup of what would forever be known as the Great Mac and Cheese Spill, they settled into the living room for a movie; one that the boys had picked, naturally.

Halfway through, Maverick leaned over from his blanket pile and asked, “So… do you guys, like, hold hands now?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You know,” Maverick said, squinting at them. “Do you hold hands and go on dates and do kissing stuff now?”

Axel chimed in, completely serious. “And if you go on a date, who picks the restaurant? And what happens if you both want fries but there’s only one left?”

Steve covered his face, biting back a laugh. “Oh my god.”

Eddie leaned closer to Steve, stage whispering, “I think we’re being interrogated.”

“You are,” Maverick confirmed.

“Okay, okay,” Steve said, dropping his hands. “We’ll answer all your questions… but only if you both agree not to make me play anymore the floor is lava for a week.”

The twins gasped.

“That’s so unfair!” Axel yelped.

“Take it or leave it,” Eddie added, grinning.

They stared at each other, clearly having some intense silent twin debate.

“Fine,” Maverick finally huffed. “But we get to stay up an hour later tomorrow.”

Steve snorted. “Deal.”

Eddie nudged Steve with his knee, his grin soft and warm. “You’re really good at this, you know?”

Steve gave him a look. “Oh, you mean negotiating with them? Yeah, I’ve got that down.”

Eddie laughed, leaning his head back against the couch.

And for the rest of the movie, Steve felt Eddie’s pinky brushing against his.

Not a secret. Not anymore.

And it felt good.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Steve didn’t know how the stars aligned for everyone to have a day off; no band interviews, no rehearsals, no twin birthday parties for classmates, no emergency grocery runs. Just… a free Saturday. Eddie had called it a miracle.

So they made a plan: no plans.

They piled into the car just after breakfast, Maverick and Axel still in their pajamas under hoodies, insisting that made it feel like a “vacation day.” Eddie grabbed a blanket and tossed it into the backseat. Steve packed snacks. It was all chaotic and perfect from the jump.

“Where to first?” Steve asked as they pulled out of the driveway.

“Park!” Axel and Maverick shouted in unison from the back.

“Park it is,” Eddie said, shooting Steve a grin over the steering wheel. “Buckle up, Harrington. We’re about to enter the land of mulch and war cries.”

The park was nearly empty, which was ideal, because the boys absolutely needed to scream at full volume while climbing every structure in sight. Steve watched from a picnic bench while Eddie stood nearby coaching Maverick on the monkey bars like it was the Olympic qualifiers.

Steve wasn’t sure what got him more—the way Eddie squatted down to tie Axel’s shoe while Axel chatted about a cartoon villain in great detail, or the way Eddie lit up when Maverick finally made it across the bars and shouted, “Dad! I did it!”

Steve felt his heart flutter, sharp and sudden. He told himself it was just the breeze.

They left the park around lunchtime and found a food truck that sold the boys’ favorite grilled cheese with gooey cheese pulls longer than Steve thought was physically possible. Axel got ketchup on his sleeve. Maverick dropped an entire fry down his shirt. Eddie stole three fries from Steve’s basket and pretended not to notice when Steve glared at him.

After lunch, ice cream.

Steve tried to convince them to get it in cups, “for cleanliness,” but Eddie snorted and ordered cones for everyone instead. Steve’s melted down his wrist almost instantly. Axel licked his so aggressively it collapsed in his hand. Eddie took a slow, smug bite of his mint chip and said, “You just don’t know how to cone, Harrington.”

“You’re banned from saying that again,” Steve said, wiping Axel’s sticky fingers with a napkin.

Eddie winked. “Don’t be jealous of my cone skills.”

Back at the house, they collapsed into the living room. Steve and Eddie stretched out on the couch while the boys constructed what they called “Blanket Kingdom 2: The Return of Blanket Kingdom.” At one point, a plush sword bounced off Steve’s head. At another, Maverick declared himself the “King of Cuddles” and claimed Steve as his royal throne. Axel curled up beside Eddie, blanket tugged over his head like a hood.

Eventually, the chaos died down. Maverick fell asleep on Steve’s chest. Axel drooled into Eddie’s hoodie. The TV played a quiet movie none of them were really watching anymore.

And in that soft silence, Steve looked over at Eddie.

His hair was a mess, cheeks still pink from laughing earlier, eyes half-lidded but warm. He smiled when he met Steve’s gaze; like he knew. Like he’d felt it too.

It hit Steve then. Not like a lightning bolt. More like the sun peeking out after a long stretch of clouds.

He was falling in love.

And it wasn’t terrifying. It wasn’t even unexpected. It just… was.

“Hey,” Eddie whispered, voice barely above a breath. “You okay?”

Steve nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I really am.”

Eddie reached over, gently brushing his thumb along Steve’s hand. “This was a good day.”

Steve smiled.

“It was kind of perfect,” he said, and meant every word.

That night, back at the apartment, Steve curled up on the couch next to Robin, both of them wrapped in oversized sweatshirts and sharing a half-finished bottle of red wine while a truly awful dating show played in the background.

“Okay,” Robin said, mouth full of popcorn. “You’ve been sighing dramatically for like ten minutes. Spill.”

Steve hesitated, then laughed softly. “I think I’m screwed.”

Robin turned to look at him. “Oh no. Feelings?”

“Big ones.”

“For Eddie?”

Steve nodded, cheeks flushing pink. “Today was just… perfect. The boys, the park, ice cream, the way Eddie looked at me like I was—I don’t know, like I mattered. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he keeps proving me wrong.”

Robin gave him a soft smile. “You sound like someone who’s not just falling. You sound like someone who already fell.”

Steve blinked at her. “Since when did you get so good at this emotional support stuff?”

“I have range,” she deadpanned. Then she nudged him. “You should tell him.”

“I want to. But I also don’t wanna freak him out. He’s still hesitant. And I get it, you know? The twins, the spotlight, everything.”

Robin nodded. “You’ll know when it’s time.”

She paused, then added, “Also, you’re not the only one in crisis.”

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Oh my god. Is this about Chrissy?”

Robin groaned and covered her face. “I hate that you know me.”

“You love that I know you.”

She peeked through her fingers. “Okay, yes. It’s about Chrissy. We went to dinner yesterday and afterwards I dropped her off and she kissed me and I nearly combusted.”

Steve grinned. “Oh yeah, you’re doomed.”

“I hate this,” she said, kicking her feet. “She’s too pretty and sweet and sparkly and I’m just… me.”

“You’re the coolest person I know. If Chrissy doesn’t already have a crush on you, she’s an idiot.”

Robin beamed, then reached for the wine again. “We’re both disasters.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, raising his glass. “But like, really hot disasters.”

They clinked glasses and sank further into the couch as the trash TV couple got into a heated argument about who ate the last protein bar. It was dumb and funny and comforting.

And as the night wore on, Steve couldn’t help but think maybe just maybe this was what falling in love was supposed to feel like.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY

Steve had been looking forward to this slow Sunday morning for weeks. No cleaning up toys, no kids, no chaos; just him and Robin, brunching at their favorite hole-in-the-wall diner with sticky syrup and questionable coffee that somehow tasted perfect anyway.

They sat at the corner booth near the window, sunlight filtering in and casting lazy patterns over the table. Robin was mid-story, animated and loud about a ridiculous dream she’d had involving haunted ice cream trucks and her high school gym teacher chasing her with a whistle.

Steve was halfway through a bite of pancake when he noticed a shadow fall over their table.

“Um… excuse me?”

He looked up to see a teenage girl standing nervously beside them. She was wearing a faded, oversized Corroded Coffin T-shirt that hung to her knees, her hands tightly clutching a phone like it was a lifeline. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Are you Steve Harrington?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper but urgent all the same.

Steve blinked. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Her smile spread wide, and she practically bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it! Okay, so… are the rumors true?”

Steve frowned, confusion washing over him. “What rumors?”

She wasted no time, spinning her phone around so the screen faced him.

There it was: a glaring TMZ headline in bright, obnoxious red letters:

EDDIE MUNSON’S MYSTERY MAN EXPOSED: NANNY STEVE HARRINGTON CAUGHT IN INTIMATE MOMENT!

Beneath the headline was a grainy but unmistakable photo. Eddie and Steve, standing on Eddie’s porch, caught mid-kiss. Eddie’s hand cupped the side of Steve’s face; Steve’s eyes were half-closed in a moment of tenderness.

Steve’s heart stuttered and then plummeted straight to his stomach. His fingers trembled as he stared at the screen like it might dissolve into nothingness.

“Oh no,” he breathed, disbelief and panic flooding through him.

Robin, sensing the sudden shift in his mood, immediately stood and slid her chair back with a scrape. “Okay, thanks for the info, but brunch is happening right now. You need to leave.”

The girl blinked, surprised, but backed away slowly, still clutching her phone.

Steve rubbed his face hard with both hands, trying to force down the sudden rush of anxiety. “This is bad. This is really bad.”

Robin slid back into the booth, her voice low and steady. “It sucks, yeah. But it’s not like this is the end of the world. You two have been careful, right?”

Steve shook his head, frustration creeping into his voice. “It’s not about us. It’s about Axel and Maverick. They’re just kids. They don’t need this crap. What if fans or paparazzi start showing up at the house? What if the twins get scared or overwhelmed? What if Eddie gets pissed off or tries to hide everything? This isn’t just gossip; it’s our lives now.”

Robin reached out and took his hand, grounding him. “You’re right to worry. But you’re not powerless. You’ve always been good with those kids. And Eddie trusts you.”

Steve’s fingers hovered over his phone as the anxiety twisted tighter. The familiar weight of responsibility settled heavily on his shoulders. The twins’ faces flashed in his mind; Maverick’s mischievous grin, Axel’s shy but determined glare. They’d already dealt with so much change; the last thing they needed was their lives turned into a spectacle.

He exhaled slowly, then typed, his thumbs shaky:

Eddie, have you seen TMZ? There’s a picture of us on the porch. It’s everywhere. I’m really worried about the boys and all this. What do we do?

He hit send before his brain could talk him out of it.

Around them, the diner buzzed with the sound of clinking dishes and laughter, but Steve felt completely disconnected, trapped in the spiral of what-ifs.

What if the twins started asking questions they weren’t ready to understand?

What if the press disrupted Eddie’s tour schedule or the fragile balance they’d built?

What if this was the beginning of the end of the quiet, chaotic family they’d all come to love?

Robin squeezed his hand again. “Hey, whatever happens next you’re not alone. We’ll get through it.”

Steve gave her a grateful, shaky smile, but inside, the knot in his chest tightened.

Because when the industry gets involved, nothing stays quiet for long.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Steve’s phone buzzed almost immediately after he sent the text.

Eddie: Come over. Now.

The drive over was a blur of red lights and white-knuckled steering. Steve’s mind raced the entire way, imagining every worst-case scenario. By the time he pulled up outside Eddie’s townhouse, he already felt wrung out.

That’s when he saw them.

A handful of photographers, parked across the street with long lenses pointed directly at the house. One leaned casually against his car, camera strap looped around his neck. Another crouched by the curb, like he was waiting for the perfect angle.

Steve’s stomach dropped.

He barely made it up the steps before the door yanked open and Eddie’s hand shot out, pulling him inside. The door slammed shut behind them, the deadbolt thrown hard.

Eddie’s eyes were wild, his hair frizzed from running his hands through it. He paced the entryway like a storm contained in too-small walls. “You saw it?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah. TMZ. One of your fans showed me at brunch when I was with Robin. Eddie, there are guys outside right now. With cameras.”

“I know,” Eddie snapped, then swore under his breath. His hands shook as he dragged them down his face. “They showed up this morning. Neighbors are already pissed. I had to keep the boys upstairs just so they wouldn’t see—”

As if on cue, little footsteps pounded down the stairs. “Dad?” Maverick’s voice, bright but tinged with confusion. “Why are there people outside with cameras? They’re pointing at the house.”

Axel’s smaller, more serious voice followed right after. “They’re not supposed to be here, right? Did something happen?”

Steve’s heart clenched. He looked up the staircase to see the twins peeking around the banister, eyes wide. Eddie’s whole face softened, but only for a second, then he plastered on the kind of smile parents wear when they’re desperate to protect their kids from the truth.

“Hey, buddies. It’s nothing you need to worry about, okay? Just… nosy people who don’t have anything better to do.” He herded them gently back up the stairs with promises of finishing their video game level. Steve could hear Axel grumbling, Maverick muttering questions, before their footsteps faded again.

When Eddie came back down, the smile was gone, replaced with something raw and trembling.

“This,” he said hoarsely, gesturing toward the curtained window, “this is exactly what I was afraid of. They’re kids, Steve. My kids. And now they’re asking why grown men with cameras are pointing lenses at their bedroom window. How the hell am I supposed to explain that to them?”

Steve swallowed hard. “Eddie, we’ll figure it out. It’s just one photo—”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s one or a hundred!” Eddie’s voice cracked, sharp with panic. “Once the press has a hook, they don’t let go. They’ll follow us to school, to the park, to the goddamn grocery store. They’ll shove mics in Axel’s face and ask him questions he shouldn’t even know how to answer. Do you understand what that does to a kid?”

Steve opened his mouth, but Eddie cut him off, words spilling faster now, desperate.

“And you. Jesus, Steve, I’ve been in this circus long enough to know how ugly it gets. Fans, paparazzi, they’re not all harmless. They’ll dig through your past, find out everything about you. They’ll camp outside your apartment, scream your name when you walk down the street, write shit about you online that isn’t true. I can take it. I’ve been taking it for years. But you? You didn’t ask for this. You’re not built for this.”

Steve’s chest ached, but he forced his voice steady. “Eddie, I know it’s messy. I know it’s scary. But I’m not going anywhere. I want to be here. With you. With Axel and Maverick. We can handle this.”

Eddie shook his head, looking tortured, caught in the grip of his own fear. “Wanting it doesn’t make it safe. I’d rather you hate me than watch them tear you apart. Or worse—watch them hurt my boys because of me.”

The silence that followed was thick, heavy with everything neither of them could promise. Outside, a camera clicked faintly; an audible reminder that their world had already changed.

Steve finally said, voice low, “Don’t shut me out because you’re scared. Please. We’re stronger together than apart.”

Eddie didn’t answer, jaw clenched tight, eyes burning with conflict. He looked like a man torn clean in half, one side desperate to protect, the other desperate to reach for what he wanted.

And Steve, standing in the middle of that storm, realized this fight wasn’t just about love. It was about survival.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Steve didn’t remember much of the drive home. His vision blurred too often, tears burning at the corners of his eyes until he had to swipe them away just to see the road. The words kept replaying in his head, over and over like a cruel tape loop: I’d rather you hate me than watch them tear you apart.

By the time he stumbled into the apartment, his chest felt like it was caving in. He shut the door harder than he meant to, leaning against it like it was the only thing holding him upright.

“Stevie?” Robin’s voice carried from the living room, bright and teasing at first. “You’re home early. I told Chrissy you’d ditch me for your rockstar boyfriend, but—”

She stopped when she saw him. Chrissy was curled up on the couch beside her with a pizza box open between them, both of them mid bite. But Robin’s grin vanished at the sight of his red rimmed eyes, the way his shoulders sagged.

“Oh my God,” Robin muttered, jumping up. “What happened?”

That was all it took. The dam broke. Steve pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, but the tears forced their way out anyway, hot and unstoppable. He let Robin guide him to the couch, Chrissy scooting over and setting down her plate, her expression soft and worried.

Steve collapsed into the cushions, voice cracking. “He—he doesn’t want this. He said—” His throat seized up, forcing him to gulp for air before he could finish. “He said it’s too dangerous. That I’m not built for it. That I should just hate him instead.”

Robin’s jaw tightened. She grabbed a napkin off the coffee table and shoved it into his hand. “Okay. First of all, he’s an idiot. A somewhat caring idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.” She crouched in front of him, making him meet her eyes. “Do you actually believe Eddie doesn’t want this? Doesn’t want you?”

Steve blinked, stunned by her sharpness. “I—he said—”

“No. Don’t just parrot back his fear,” Robin interrupted, firm. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Steve. Like you hung the damn moon. That man wants you. He’s just scared out of his mind. And honestly? Fair. He’s got the kids, the band, his whole life under a microscope. But that’s not the same thing as not wanting you.”

Chrissy reached over, laying a gentle hand on Steve’s arm. “Robin’s right. Eddie… he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. He’s been in survival mode for so long that he doesn’t know how to let himself want something without feeling guilty about it. Especially when it comes to the twins.” Her voice softened even more. “They’ve already lost enough. He’ll do anything to protect them. Even if it means pushing you away.”

Steve’s throat ached. “But what if he’s right? What if I can’t handle it? The cameras, the fans, the chaos… what if I’m just making everything harder for him and the boys?”

Robin rolled her eyes so hard he swore she might hurt herself. “Steve Harrington, do you hear yourself? You’re the one who’s been wiping up mac and cheese explosions, refereeing Nerf gun wars, and convincing Eddie to eat something other than gas station burritos and beef jerky. You’re already in it. You’ve been handling the hard stuff without even realizing it.”

Chrissy nodded, her hand still warm against his arm. “And as for the paparazzi? The boys are already scared. They’re asking questions Eddie can’t answer. But you being there? That’s not making things harder. That’s giving them stability. You’re the safe place Eddie doesn’t even realize they all need.”

Steve buried his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. “I don’t know if I’m enough for all of that.”

Robin tugged his hands away, her tone softening. “Stevie. You’ve always been enough. For me, for the kids, for him. The question isn’t whether you’re enough; it’s whether Eddie can get out of his own way long enough to believe he deserves you.”

Chrissy leaned her head against his shoulder, her voice quiet but certain. “Give him time. Fear makes him say stupid things, but underneath it? He’s terrified because he cares. You’re not the problem, Steve. You’re the thing he’s most afraid to lose.”

The tears slowed, replaced by a hollow ache in Steve’s chest. He looked between them; Robin with her blunt, unwavering loyalty, Chrissy with her soft steadiness and for the first time since Eddie’s words had gutted him, he felt a flicker of something like hope. Fragile, but there.

Robin shoved the pizza box toward him. “Now eat something before you collapse dramatically onto the floor. I am not cleaning up Harrington tears and marinara sauce at the same time.”

Steve huffed out a laugh, shaky but real. And when Chrissy squeezed his arm again, he let himself breathe, just a little easier.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The next week felt like a slow ache that wouldn’t fade.

Steve still showed up every morning right on time, like always, armed with coffee and a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. But things were different. Eddie didn’t linger in the kitchen anymore. He’d nod a quiet hello, murmur something about meetings or band rehearsals, and then disappear behind his studio door before Steve could even ask how he was doing.

And Steve let him. He told himself he was giving Eddie space, being understanding, patient. But every slammed door and hurried goodbye carved a little deeper into his chest.

The twins noticed first.

On Tuesday morning, Axel refused to get dressed for school. He sat cross-legged on the floor in his pajamas, arms crossed and lower lip trembling.

“Not going,” he muttered.

“Why not, buddy?” Steve crouched down, trying to meet his eyes.

“Because Dad’s mad at you,” Axel blurted, his voice small. “You guys aren’t talking, and you look sad, and he looks sad, and it’s dumb.”

Steve’s heart cracked clean in two. Maverick hovered nearby, his backpack slung over one shoulder, quiet but watching. “Dad said grown ups just need space sometimes,” Maverick added, frowning. “But space is stupid.”

Steve swallowed hard, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “Hey, come on. Your dad’s just busy. He’s got a lot going on right now.”

“Then why were there camera people outside again?” Maverick pressed. “They keep asking about you.”

Steve froze. He’d noticed the cars parked a little too long across the street, the flashes at the corner of his vision when he walked the boys to the car. Eddie had tried to get security to keep the paparazzi away from the house, but word had spread too fast.

“I think,” Steve said carefully, “some people just don’t know when to mind their own business.”

It worked for now. He got them dressed, packed their lunches, and drove them to school, but the silence in the car was heavy; Axel’s hand resting quietly in his, Maverick staring out the window like he was waiting for something to feel normal again.

By the time Steve got back, Eddie’s car was gone. Another day, another absence.

He busied himself with chores just to fill the quiet: folded laundry, vacuumed the living room, even reorganized the boys’ art supplies. Anything to stop thinking about the text messages Eddie wasn’t answering. Anything to stop replaying the way his voice had broken when he’d said he couldn’t do this.

That night, when he tucked the twins into bed, Maverick looked up at him and whispered, “Are you gonna leave too?”

Steve froze in the doorway. “What?”

“Dad said people don’t always stay. But I don’t want you to go.”

For a second, Steve couldn’t speak. His throat tightened, and all he could do was sit on the edge of the bed and smooth Maverick’s hair back from his forehead. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I promise.”

Axel peeked out from his blanket. “Even if Dad’s being dumb?”

Steve let out a shaky laugh. “Even if your dad’s being real dumb.”

They giggled at that, and for a fleeting moment, the tension in the room eased. But when the lights went out and Steve sat alone in the living room, surrounded by the faint hum of the TV playing some random show and the quiet buzz of Eddie’s studio equipment still running in the background, the loneliness hit again; sharp and familiar.

He missed Eddie’s laugh. He missed the way their nightly debriefs used to fill this silence, the warmth that came with sharing a couch after the boys went to bed. Now, the air just felt heavy with everything unsaid.

Robin texted to check in.

How’s it going over there?

Steve stared at the screen for a long time before replying.

Quiet. Too quiet.

She sent back a string of heart emojis and one that said “kick his ass,” which made him smile for a second, but it didn’t reach the ache sitting deep in his chest.

When Eddie finally came home late that night, Steve was already gone. He’d left a note on the counter; polite, professional, distant.

Boys had dinner. Homework’s done. Axel’s in dinosaur pajamas, Maverick’s in the striped ones. I’ll see you tomorrow. –Steve

Eddie read it twice, his hand trembling slightly where it rested on the counter. The house was spotless. Too spotless.

He didn’t realize until he walked past the boys’ bedroom how much his own avoidance had cost them; two pairs of tiny sneakers neatly lined by the door, two little bodies curled together under one blanket for comfort.

And for the first time since the headlines broke, guilt hit him harder than fear.

Chapter Text

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Steve didn’t expect his phone to ring while he was cutting strawberries for the boys’ lunches; two thermoses, two carefully packed bento boxes, Maverick’s crusts removed, Axel’s intact because he swore crust gave you muscles. Every movement was routine, familiar. Comforting.

But the voice on the other end of the phone shattered that comfort in a single heartbeat.

“Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah, uh… yeah, that’s me.”

The woman introduced herself as Ms. Porter, director of an after-school program he barely remembered applying to. He’d taken the nanny job before they responded and now here they were, offering something he’d almost forgotten he wanted.

A full-time position.

Stable hours.

Health insurance.

Paid time off.

Room to grow.

A job that didn’t break his heart every time the front door clicked behind Eddie’s retreating back.

“When would you need an answer?” he asked, voice thin.

“As soon as possible.” Warm. Professional. No chaos, no cameras outside her office window.

He thanked her and hung up; staring at the half-made lunches, strawberry juice staining the cutting board like something bleeding. He didn’t know how long he stood there, knife loose in his hand, mind spiraling.

Stable. Predictable. Safe.

Not Eddie.

Not the boys.

Not this home he loved too much.

~~~~~~

That afternoon, he drove to pick up Axel and Maverick like always. They spotted him before he even reached the school doors; Axel sprinting with his backpack bouncing wildly, Maverick speed-walking because running was “not cool.” They crashed into him like they always did, one on each side, two halves of his heart he hadn’t meant to give away.

But when they got into the car, neither spoke.

Not at first.

Halfway home, Maverick finally whispered, almost scared of the question in his own mouth:

“Steve… are you and Dad still mad at each other?”

Steve’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “No, buddy. We’re just… still figuring things out.”

Axel leaned forward between the seats, hopeful and heartbreakingly earnest.

“We can help! We’ll be extra good, and we’ll clean our room, and we won’t fight over movies anymore. We miss movie nights. We miss when you and Dad used to cuddle and we got to sit on both your laps like a puppy pile.”

Steve felt something inside him crumble.

“Oh guys…” his voice cracked, thick and painful, “this isn’t because of anything you did. And there’s nothing you have to fix. Your dad loves you more than anything in the world.”

Axel’s eyes shone, suspiciously close to tears.

“But we want you to stay.”

Maverick echoed, quieter but firmer, “We want things to be the way it used to be.”

It took everything inside Steve not to pull over and cry right there in the drop-off lane.

~~~~~~

That night, after the boys were asleep, Steve drove home with his chest hollow and aching. The house felt quiet in a way that made him dizzy; like every room remembered Eddie’s laughter, every couch cushion remembered his weight.

Robin was already on the sofa when he walked in; hair in a messy short ponytail, blanket around her legs, eyes sharp in the way only best friends could get away with.

She didn’t ask what was wrong.

She just said one word: “Talk.”

The dam broke.

Steve told her everything; the job offer, how the phone call felt like an escape hatch, Axel and Maverick asking how to fix it, Eddie’s continuing silence, his heart feeling like it was being stretched too thin to hold.

Robin listened without interrupting, jaw set, fingers tapping against her mug like she was holding back a dozen things she wanted to scream.

When Steve finished; eyes wet, voice wrecked, she took a long breath and went for the truth without sugar.

“Look at me, dingus.” Her voice was even. Cutting in the way he needed. “Do you want that job because you want it… or because staying with Eddie and the boys hurt?”

Steve stared down at his hands that tied little shoes, wiped tears, held popcorn bowls during movie marathons.

“It hurts,” he whispered. “God, it hurts.”

“Then you need to decide what hurts worse.” Her words were soft steel. “Walking away, or waiting for Eddie to show up for you.”

His throat closed. Waiting felt like drowning. Leaving felt like cutting out a vital organ.

Robin reached over and took his hand, not gently, but firmly, grounding him back into his body.

“You love them. I know. Anyone can see that. But you can’t wait forever. Not for someone who’s too scared to stand still with you.”

Steve exhaled a breath that shook.

Because she was right.

And knowing it didn’t make the ache easier.

He leaned sideways, burying his face in Robin’s shoulder, broken in quiet little tremors he hadn’t let anyone see. She held him; one arm around him, the other rubbing slow circles on his back  like she was anchoring him to the couch so he didn’t shatter completely.

No distraction this time.

Just truth, raw and heavy between them.

And Steve realized that loving Eddie, loving the boys, might not be enough to keep him here.

Not if it kept costing pieces of himself.