075

The first thing you notice is warmth.

Solid, steady warmth pressed against your back, a strong arm draped lazily over your waist, fingers twitching slightly in sleep.

Eddie.

His breath is soft and even, tickling the back of your neck, tangled curls brushing your shoulder. The weight of him, the presence of him, grounds you before anything else.

The second thing you notice is the ache.

Not unbearable, but there. The dull throb of a hangover behind your eyes, the stiffness in your legs from hours of dancing, jumping during his gig last night, and... yeah, that too. Lots of fucking backstage.

Your muscles protest as you shift slightly, confirming exactly why you're sore. You blink against the soft morning light filtering through the hotel curtains, cracking your eyes open just enough to survey the room.

Empty.

Thank God.

You push yourself up on one elbow, scanning the space just to be sure no one from last night had crashed in here, but it's just you and Eddie.

Your clothes are scattered on the floor, along with his, tangled together in a way that makes you smirk to yourself.

The nightstand holds an empty pizza box, an open water bottle, and, randomly, a single guitar pick.

You exhale, flopping back against the pillows, stretching with a groan.

Eddie stirs behind you, grumbling something incoherent, pulling you closer like he knows you're trying to leave the warmth of the bed.

You don't fight him. You let yourself sink back into his arms, staring up at the ceiling as the memories of last night flood in.

The gig.

The energy of the crowd, the way Eddie had owned the stage, his voice raw and powerful.

The moment he spotted you, the way his eyes softened despite the intensity of his performance.

The song. The song. You feel it all over again, the way his voice had wrapped around you like smoke, soft and so unlike the way he sang it with the band. Just for you. Low and raspy, laced with so much devotion it made your chest ache.

The party backstage. Shots. Laughter. Tequila burning down your throat.

The bar. Pool and darts, victory cheers and playful taunts.

Robin rolling her eyes at you while you wiggled your brows, pushing her towards Vickie.

Eddie's hands on your hips as you danced, his mouth on yours every chance he got, his fingers sneaking under your shirt, tracing invisible patterns on your skin.

And then the walk back to the hotel.

Your body remembers the way you had clung to his back, legs wrapped around his waist as he carried you through the empty streets, his laughter vibrating through your whole body as you tried to feed him pizza over his shoulder. You'd both been giggling so hard, barely able to keep it together.

The absurdity of it, the way your voices echoed off the buildings, the sheer joy of just being together.

Vanguard had scattered to their own hotel, some taking home random girls for the night.

Corroded Coffin had already called it earlier, slipping away with their own company.

Elena and Steve couldn't keep their hands off each other, and she took him home with her, along with Vickie and Robin, who'd crash on her couch.

And then, there was you and Eddie. And your pizza.

Sneaking into the hotel, shushing each other through barely-contained laughter. Stripping down the second the door clicked shut. The sheer desperation in the way he kissed you, like he'd been starving for it all night. Your back against the mattress, his body heavy over yours, hands everywhere, mouths everywhere, lost in each other until sleep finally took you both.

And now here you are.

Wrapped in his arms. Still feeling him all over you.

You sigh, stretching again, rolling over slowly to face him. His eyes are still closed, but you know he's awake now. The way his grip tightens around your waist, the tiny smirk ghosting over his lips. "You alive?" you murmur, voice scratchy from sleep.

He grunts. "Barely."

You chuckle, fingers brushing over his cheek, tracing the curve of his jaw. His skin is warm beneath your touch, slightly stubbled as you mumble, "We're alone, right?"

Eddie cracks one eye open, smirking, "Why? You inviting someone else?"

You snort, flicking his shoulder, "Just making sure we didn't get too generous last night and let the whole band crash here."

He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow, looking around the room as if he's just now taking it in. His eyes land on the pizza box, and he lets out a deep, satisfied sigh. "That pizza saved our asses."

You hum in agreement, letting your fingers drift down his arm, tracing the tattoos there. "We're not dead, so I'd call that a win."

Eddie grins, leaning down to press a slow, lazy kiss to your lips.

You melt into it, letting him pull you back under, letting the warmth of him swallow you whole. His kiss is slow, lazy, like he's got all the time in the world. Warm lips move against yours in a way that makes your chest ache, a tenderness so at odds with the wild night before. Like he's savoring you. Like he's home. You sigh softly, fingers curling into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your lips.

He shifts, pressing his body closer, warm and solid, one hand sliding up your thigh beneath the covers.

"Mm-mm", you murmur against his mouth, nudging his nose with yours, "We're not doing this again until I have coffee".

He pulls back just enough to blink at you, lips still parted, a slight pout forming. "Coffee?" He groans, flopping dramatically onto his back, "You'd really deny me morning sex for coffee?"

"Deny us", you correct, stretching your arms above your head with a smug grin, "Because trust me, I want to. But I need caffeine first. And maybe a shower. And so do you, babe. You reek of tequila and sin."

Eddie laughs, running a hand over his face, "Yeah, well, so do you."

You swat at his chest, rolling out of bed before he can trap you again. Your legs protest as you stand, sore in a way that has heat creeping up your neck.

Eddie watches you with a slow, appreciative smirk as you bend down to grab his shirt off the floor, slipping it over your head. It's huge on you, the fabric brushing your thighs, and his gaze darkens as he watches you stretch again.

"Keep looking at me like that and we'll never get coffee", you tease, padding toward the bathroom.

He sighs dramatically, throwing an arm over his face, "Fine. But only because I'm also starving".

You chuckle, slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you.

By the time you're out of the bathroom again, a hotel towel wrapped around your damp body, Eddie is already up, stretching in nothing but his boxers, hair an absolute mess, yawning like a cat.

"Shower's yours", you say, ruffling his curls as you walk past him.

He grabs your wrist, spinning you back into his arms before you can escape. "Nah, I changed my mind". He grins, kissing your cheek. "We are doing this again before coffee."

You squeal as he lifts you off the ground, tossing you back onto the bed, his laughter filling the room as you both disappear under the covers again.

You barely have time to react before he yanks the towel away, tossing it somewhere behind him like it offended him. You yelp, immediately grabbing for the covers, but he's already on you, arms caging you in, his body pressing against yours, warm and solid, and -

"Oh my god, you're gross", you laugh, trying to wiggle away, but he's not letting you go, "Babe, you still smell like the bar. Like sweat and beer and -"

"And tequila," he adds smugly, dipping his head to nuzzle into your neck.

"And tequila", you groan dramatically, pushing at his chest, but he just grins against your skin.

"You're so clean", he muses, dragging his hands down your freshly showered body, making you shiver. "So soft, so fresh..." His tone shifts, teasing, dangerous. "So untouched by the filth of last night."

You squeal when he suddenly rubs himself all over you like an overgrown cat, pressing his sweat-and-smoke-scented body against your clean skin, making a show of it, dragging his chest against yours, his arms, his legs, tangling you both up in the sheets as you shriek and laugh, struggling half-heartedly to push him off."Eddie, ew!" you cry between giggles, kicking at his legs.

"Shhh," he hushes, grinning like a devil, rolling you onto your back, his hands pinning yours above your head, "You love it, sweetheart".

"I don't!" you insist, breathless, still laughing, but he just leans in, grinning against your cheek.

"Well, too bad", he murmurs, dragging his lips down your jaw, your throat, pressing obnoxiously ticklish kisses along your collarbone.

You squeak, trying to squirm away, but he just follows, peppering kisses all over your ribs, your stomach, grinning at the way you jolt, laughter spilling from you like music. "You absolute menace," you gasp, trying to bat him away, but he just grins wider.

He keeps going, absolutely relentless, his lips and hands finding every ticklish spot, every sensitive inch of your freshly cleaned skin. His hair, messy and wild, drags over your damp body, leaving a trail of shivers in its wake. His fingers skim your sides, squeezing just enough to make you squeal, making you writhe beneath him, trying to escape, but he just rolls with you, keeping you locked in his grip.

"Stop, Eddie stop!" you gasp between fits of laughter, pushing at his shoulders, but he's grinning so wide, like he lives for this, like your laughter is his favorite sound in the world.

"Never," he teases, voice warm, lips brushing against your stomach before he blows a raspberry against your skin.

You shriek, thrashing, smacking at his head, laughing so hard your stomach aches. "You child!" you gasp, giggling uncontrollably as he nuzzles into your ribs.

"Yeah?" he grins, flipping you again, pressing his weight down just enough to pin you. His nose brushes yours, his breath warm, his eyes still shining with amusement, "You love me."

You roll your eyes, still breathless. "I hate you."

"Liar," he smirks, brushing his nose against yours.

You groan, grabbing his face, fingers sinking into his messy curls, and kiss him, still giggling against his lips.

He groans into the kiss, deepening it, but still he won't stop being a menace, biting at your lips playfully, mumbling between kisses. "You're so clean" kiss "smell so nice" kiss "shame I had to ruin it"

You snort into his mouth, making him chuckle, and before you know it, you've flipped him onto his back, straddling his waist, both of you breathless and grinning, tangled up in sheets, his hands immediately finding your hips, squeezing. His eyes flick down between your bodies, the way your bare skin presses against his, the way his boxers are suddenly very tight.

You feel him, hard beneath you.

Oops.

Eddie raises a brow, grinning. "Well, good morning to him."

You roll your eyes, but he just laughs, hands sliding down to grab your ass, squeezing playfully. "Yeah, yeah," you mumble, feigning exasperation, but your cheeks burn as you shift against him.

"Careful", he grins, his grab on you tightening.

You smirk, shifting your hips just enough to make him twitch beneath you, biting your lip as his fingers dig into your skin.

"Fucking tease," Eddie breathes, voice rough, eyes darkening as he watches you.

"You love it," you echo his words from earlier, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

"Yeah," he exhales, tilting his head back against the pillows, looking at you through half-lidded eyes, "I really, really do."

You grin, leaning down, your lips barely brushing his, your breath mingling with his.

His hands slide up your back, warm and rough, sending shivers through you.."You gonna keep playin' with me?" he murmurs, voice low, teasing, but there's an edge to it, like he's already aching, already so close to snapping.

You hum, pretending to think about it, pressing the softest kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his jaw, then the spot just below his ear.

His breath catches when you nip at his skin, his fingers flexing against your hips. "Fuck, baby," he groans, tilting his head to give you more room, "You're evil."

You giggle, kissing down his throat, feeling the way his pulse races beneath your lips. He's so warm, so solid beneath you, and when you shift again, just slightly, just enough, he shudders.

"Alright, alright," he huffs, grabbing your face suddenly, his thumbs pressing into your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his hungry gaze, "You win."

And then he kisses you, deep, desperate, like he's been starving for you. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you down, closer, as his hips press up into yours.

You moan softly against his lips, causing him to groan into your kiss, but you keep it playful, nipping at his bottom lip, pulling back before he can deepen it, giggling when he growls in frustration.

His hands tighten on your hips as you shift against him, the soft cotton of his boxers barely a barrier between you. "You're enjoying this way too much," he mutters, eyes dark with heat but his lips twitching in amusement.

You grin, trailing your fingers over his chest, feeling the stickiness of sweat and faded traces of tequila. "Mmm, I am pretty fresh and clean," you tease, scrunching your nose dramatically, "Meanwhile, you still smell like last night. Cigarettes, whiskey, and me."

Eddie smirks, rolling you onto your back effortlessly. "Yeah? And you smell like my shampoo and fancy hotel soap." He lowers his head, nuzzling into your neck, inhaling deeply before letting out a pleased sigh. "Fuckin' sweet. Like vanilla and honey and just a little bit of me still."

You giggle, squirming as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your throat, but then he licks a slow stripe over your collarbone and you yelp, shoving at his shoulder, "Eddie!"

"What?" he says, voice full of faux innocence as he grins down at you, "Just tryin' to get you dirty again, sweetheart."

You laugh, smacking his arm, but he only takes the opportunity to grab your wrists, pinning them down beside your head. His body is warm, solid, pressing against yours in a way that has your breath catching, giggles fading into something softer.

"You done playin' games with me yet?" he murmurs, voice dipping into something deeper, rougher.

You swallow, feeling the way his weight settles between your thighs, the heat of him against your bare skin, the way he's looking at you now, like he's barely holding himself back. "Depends," you mumble, voice softer now, teasing but breathless, "You gonna do something about it?"

His lips curve into a lazy smirk, but there's hunger in his eyes as he dips his head, dragging his mouth down the column of your throat, over your chest. "Guess I better," he murmurs.

But he doesn't rush. He never does when it comes to this, not when he has you naked and breathless beneath him, flushed from teasing and laughter.

His smirk is lazy, dark, eyes heavy as he drags his mouth down your throat once more, nipping at your pulse just to hear that sharp little gasp he loves. "You're too clean, sweetheart", he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low rasp, full of wicked promise, "Gotta fix that." His lips trail lower, slow and deliberate, tracing down the dip between your collarbones, over the swell of your breast. His tongue flicks over your nipple before he sucks it into his mouth, warm and wet, making your back arch instinctively. He groans at the way you react to him, gripping your hips to keep you pinned as he moves further down. His mouth follows the curve of your stomach, nipping, kissing, grinning when you squirm. "You're still all fresh and sweet from that shower, baby", he murmurs against your skin, "Can't have that, can we?"

Your breath hitches as he shifts lower, settling between your thighs.

He presses soft, teasing kisses to the inside of your knee first, working his way up, dragging his lips along your inner thigh, taking his damn time. You whimper, hips lifting slightly, but he just chuckles. "So impatient", he teases, eyes flicking up to yours as he kisses higher, closer, until his breath is warm against your center, "But I like it when you beg".

Your fingers tangle in his curls, tugging, and he groans, loving the little show of desperation. "Babe, come on".

That's all he needed.

He licks into you slow, savoring the taste, his moan vibrating against your skin. Your head falls back against the pillows, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as he takes his time, dragging his tongue over you in slow, devastating strokes. "Fuck, you're perfect", he groans against you, gripping your thighs, holding you open for him. He licks again, a little firmer, a little deeper, making you whimper. Your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling, but it only makes him groan, makes him press into you more, lips and tongue working in a way that's too good, too slow and deep, too teasing and filthy all at once.

He knows exactly what he's doing.

He drags his tongue over you again, then flicks it against your clit, sucking just hard enough to make your whole body jolt.

"Oh, fuck", you gasp, thighs trembling, and his grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into your skin to keep you still.

Eddie chuckles against you, dark and smug, eyes flicking up to yours, "That's it, baby. Let me hear you."

And then, he devours you.

His tongue flicks, swirls, his lips sucking, his hands keeping you exactly where he wants you, sprawled open, helpless beneath him, his to taste, his to wreck. Your hips lift, chasing more, and Eddie loves it, loves how desperate you get for him.

Your moans turn breathy, higher-pitched, thighs trembling against his shoulders, and he knows you're close. "Just like that", you breathe, "Please don't stop. Fuck, keep going-- ohmygod!"

He grins against you, doing exactly what you said, not changing a bit of what he's doing, his eyes pinned to your face as he eats you out so fucking good you're about to lose your mind.

Your body shakes already, muscles tensing inside of you, energy building and building deep inside you.

"Fuck, oh god b-baby-- FUCK I'm cumming", you pant, back arching from the bed, legs locking around his head, your breaths now heavy, mixing with your desperate gasps and moans as it all builds bigger and bigger - until it finally snaps.

Pleasure crashes over you, your body shaking as Eddie works you through it, licking you through every shudder, every breathless moan of his name.

He only slows when your body sags, spent and trembling beneath him. Only then does he press one last kiss to your overstimulated skin before dragging himself up your body again, his mouth glistening, his smirk pure sin.

You're gasping for air, laughing, grabbing him to pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, feeling the smug smile he wears even as you pull him closer.

"You good, baby?" he murmurs, brushing damp hair from your face, thumb tracing over your cheek.

"Shut up and fuck me," you pant, still breathless, still shaking.

His grin is wicked as he presses his hips against yours, letting you feel exactly how hard he is. "Oh, sweetheart," he rasps, voice dropping, "You don't have to tell me twice."

Within a second, he's pushing his boxers down, lining himself up, and sliding inside in one smooth, desperate thrust. Your body stretches, welcomes him, and the both of you groan at the feeling, hot, deep, perfect. His forehead presses against yours, his breath mingling with yours, and for a moment, neither of you move. He tilts your chin up, makes you look at him, makes sure you see how much he fucking loves this, how much he loves you.

"Good morning, baby," he whispers, before pulling back and thrusting deep, stealing the words from your lips.

"Oh God--", you choke out, eyes rolling back, your arms flying around him as he sets the pace slow at first, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you. His hands are on you, gripping your waist, your boobs, tracing the curve of your spine, tangling in your hair as he moves inside you.

He kisses you deep, messy, like he wants to drown in you. "Fuck, you feel like heaven", he groans, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath hot and ragged against your lips.

Your nails dig into his back, your legs wrapping tighter around his waist. "Faster," you pant breathlessly, needy. "More, baby--"

His smirk is pure sin, but he obeys, snapping his hips just a little harder, a little deeper. Your body jolts, pleasure sparking through you, and Eddie fucking feels it."Yeah? That what my girl wants?" His voice is wrecked, rough, his control slipping with every sharp gasp you let out, "You want it harder, baby?"

You whimper, nodding, unable to form words as he picks up his pace, fucking into you like he needs this, like he needs you. His movements grow rougher, needier, every thrust making the bed creak beneath you. His grip tightens, fingers digging into your hips, keeping you exactly where he wants you. His breath is ragged against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours for a brief moment before he shifts, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. "You feel so fucking good," he groans, voice thick, rough, like gravel and honey all at once. "fuck, baby, I can feel you squeezing me." His words send a fresh wave of heat through you, and you whimper beneath him, arching into his touch, craving more, needing more. He chuckles low, dark. "You like that, huh? Like when I fuck you like this?"

"Harder" you gasp, fingers digging into his back, your nails raking down his skin, leaving red trails in their wake. You arch into him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him in, pulling him deeper, "Fuck me harder-"

He growls, low and rough, and suddenly his hands are gripping your thighs, prying them from his waist as he sits back on his heels. His fingers dig into your skin as he manhandles you onto your stomach, pressing your chest into the mattress, his body caging you in, hot and solid against your back. "What, you want more?" he rasps, his breath heavy, his voice edged with something darker now. His teeth graze your shoulder as he grips your hips, angling you just how he wants you, "I'll give you more, sweetheart. You better take it".

The first thrust knocks the breath from your lungs, your fingers curling into the sheets as he slams into you, deep, raw, just this side of brutal. The sound of it, the sharp slap of skin, the low, wrecked moan that rumbles from his chest, sends heat curling through your core, leaves you trembling beneath him.

"Fuck, yes!", you scream into the pillow, pushing back against him, meeting each thrust, taking everything he's giving you.

He groans, fingers tightening on your hips, sure to leave bruises by tomorrow, his rhythm relentless now, chasing the way your body shudders beneath him. "Look at you", he pants, voice thick with something filthy, something reverent, "So greedy for it. So fuckin' perfect". His hand slides up your spine, fingers curling around the back of your neck, holding you there, keeping you exactly where he wants you as he drives into you harder, deeper.

You whimper, the pleasure so intense it's almost too much, the pressure building again, winding tight inside you.

Eddie feels it, feels the way your body clenches around him, the way your moans turn breathy and desperate. "Yes, just like that, baby", he grits out, his free hand slipping beneath you, fingers finding the slick heat of your clit. He strokes you roughly, in time with every thrust, and it sends you spiraling.

"Eddie, oh my god!"

Your body tightens, then finally shatters, pleasure ripping through you so fiercely you swear you see stars. Your whole body trembles, your hands clawing at the sheets, gasping his name as the orgasm crashes over you.

But he doesn't stop.

Not yet.

He lets you ride the waves, lets you shake and whimper through the aftershocks, but then he's flipping you again, barely giving you time to breathe before he's pushing back in, stretching you all over again.

A gasp rips from your throat, part moan, part laughter, because it's so much, so overwhelming, but you love it. Love the way he won't stop until you're wrecked, until you can't do anything but take it."Baby", you whimper, gripping his hair, pulling him down to kiss you, messy and desperate, all teeth and tongue.

He groans into your mouth, his pace never faltering, pushing you higher again, faster than you thought possible. "Too much?" he murmurs against your lips, though he knows the answer.

You shake your head, breathless, moaning into his mouth, still grinning from your high, "Never." You taste salt and sweat and him, all-consuming, as he kisses you deep, possessive, his tongue sweeping against yours, his body pressing you into the mattress.

His grin is sharp, wicked. "Good" he rasps, nipping at your jaw, his voice dropping to something almost dangerous, "I'm just getting started."

With that, he moves again, dragging your leg over his shoulder, changing the angle, stealing the breath from your lungs as he drives into you, harder, deeper, his fingers threading through yours, pinning your hands to the bed.

Your laughter melts into gasps, into moans, into the sound of his name spilling from your lips over and over again.

He loves it. Loves the way you meet him, push back against him, match his fire with your own. Loves the way you take everything he gives and beg for more. His grip tightens, his pace relentless, chasing his own release as he watches you unravel beneath him.

"Come on, baby," he growls, voice strained, "Gimme one more, I know you're fucking close again".

He's right.

Your walls are clenching around his dick, your gasps and moans so desperate and pressed, your body on fire, pleasure winding tight inside you. His name falls from your lips, breathless, pleading, and he groans, dipping his head to bite at your shoulder, his thrusts turning frantic, rougher, messier.

"Fuck, yes", he grits out, "Such a good girl, cum for me again, baby".

Your whole body locks up, pleasure slamming into you so hard you're choking on your own moans. Your fingers tighten around his, desperate holding on to him as you shake beneath him, eyes rolling back, lips parting for a gasping row of moans.

The second you open your eyes, you grin at him, blissed and so satisfied, fingers letting go of his as you reach for him, pull him down, and kiss him. "You're so fucking good", you whisper, body locked around him, his hips slowly moving against you, a low groan coming from him as you roll your hips with his slow rhythm. "Fuck, baby, I can never get enough of this".

He grins, breathless and sweaty, "Never?".

You bite into his bottom lip, fingers in his hair, "Never". You push against his chest, flipping him onto his back, straddling his waist, grinding against him in a slow, teasing roll of your hips.

Eddie's hands fly to your thighs, squeezing hard, "Oh, you fuckin' tease".

You smirk, leaning over him, letting your hair brush against his face, your lips ghosting over his jaw as you shift your hips again, slow, torturous, "Thought you liked it when I ride you, baby."

He groans, tilting his head back against the pillows, gripping your waist, trying to force you down harder, but you stay in control. You set the pace, rolling your hips, letting him feel every inch of you. "You're gonna kill me", he pants, voice wrecked, his grip on you almost bruising now, his body trembling beneath yours.

You smile, dragging your nails down his chest, "Not yet". You sit up, now bouncing on him, grinding, rolling your hips in a way that has his jaw going slack, his fingers digging into your skin like he's barely holding on.

"Holy fuck", he groans, his head falling back, eyes locked on where your bodies meet, watching you ride him like you were made for this.

"You like that?" you purr, voice thick with satisfaction.

His hands slide up to your waist, then higher, cupping your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan. "Like?" he huffs a breathless laugh, shaking his head, "Baby, I'm obsessed". His eyes flick up to yours, dark and hungry, his gaze locked on your face, the way you look above him, flushed and wild and so goddamn beautiful it makes his chest ache. His head falls back against the pillow, his breath ragged, his grip on your hips tightening as you ride him, taking him in deep, rolling your hips just the way you know drives him insane. "Fuck", he groans, his voice wrecked, his hands roaming over your body, "You're so goddamn perfect like this. You know that? I could watch you fucking me like that forever".

You do. You revel in it. Your body moves over his, teasing, taking your time, making him feel every inch of you.

He's losing it, eyes dark, lips parted, curses spilling freely as you push him closer, harder, until he's right on the edge. Until -

the fucking phone rings.

The shrill blare of the landline right beside the bed shatters the moment.

You jolt, startled, but Eddie just groans, dropping his head back, hands gripping you harder. "Don't stop", he mutters, voice rough, desperate, "Keep going, babe. Come on, ignore it--"

But you hesitate, catching your breath, eyes flicking to the phone.

He's got that radio interview later. Could be them.

"Pick up", you pant, breathless, teasing, watching his face.

Eddie rolls his eyes, exasperated, "Absolutely fucking not". His hands flex on your hips, trying to get you moving again, but you stay right where you are. Waiting.

"Maybe you should get that", you tease, catching your breath, lips curving into a wicked little smirk, "Could be your interview".

He throws you a murderous look, his cock still buried inside you, throbbing, "You're actually insane if you think I'm answering that right now".

You bite your lip, shifting just slightly, just enough to make him twitch inside you, his breath catching. "What if it's important?"

The phone rings again.

Eddie lets out a long-suffering sigh and finally reaches over, snatching the receiver off the hook.

"What?"

His voice is strained, rough, clipped with impatience.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle your grin.

It's Rock FM.

You can hear the voice on the other end, telling him the time and place for later.

You shift, just the slightest roll of your hips.

Eddie inhales sharply, fingers digging into your ass. His eyes snap to yours, dark and dangerous. A warning.

You ignore it.

You clench around him. Just a little. Just enough to make his breath hitch, his head falling back for half a second before he growls low in his throat.

His hand tightens on your ass, the promise of retribution clear in his grip.

"Yes", he grits out into the phone, trying and failing to sound professional.

His free hand slides up your thigh, gripping tighter, his eyes daring you to keep going,

"What- uh...what time?"

You bite your lip, eyes locked on his face as an idea sparks.

Payback, baby.

For all the teasing he's put you through. For every time he's had you shaking, desperate, begging for him while he took his time.

You slide your hands up his chest, leaning forward just slightly, just enough to change the angle, to make you both feel it. Then, you move. Slow. Subtle. Grinding against him like you have all the time in the world.

Eddie chokes. "Shit", he mutters under his breath, clearing his throat, forcing himself to focus. "Yeah, okay, got it". His fingers flex against your ass, gripping hard, trying to still you, but you don't stop.

You roll your hips again.

He exhales sharply through his nose, shooting you a look that could kill. His fingers dig into your skin as he glares at you, shaking his head slowly, mouthing, Don't you fucking dare.

You dare, smirking at him as you keep moving, clenching around his dick, rolling your hips, your hands on his chest.

His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, hard. "Uh-huh", he forces out, barely listening now, his hand sliding up your spine, wrapping around the back of your neck. His thumb presses just under your jaw, tilting your head down, forcing your eyes to meet his.

He's daring you.

You roll your hips again.

His grip tightens.

You can feel him struggling, trying to keep it together, his body tense beneath you, his cock twitching inside you.

He barely chokes back a moan, pressing his lips together, his knuckles going white around the phone. "Yes. Uh, yeah. Got it", he says gruffly, his voice hoarse, breath uneven. He shifts slightly, adjusting his grip on the receiver, doing everything he can to keep his composure.

But you don't let up.

You start bouncing, slow, steady, dragging him in deep, watching him struggle. Watching his eyes roll back, his nostrils flare, his jaw tighten.

He hates it.

He loves it.

He's barely listening to a damn word being said on the phone, staring at you like he's about to lose his goddamn mind, muttering curses under his breath.

You bite your own hand, muffling the sounds spilling from your lips as you move too good to stop, pleasure pooling deep, winding tight in your stomach.

Eddie glares at you, shaking his head, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as you work him over. He's unraveling, fast, trying so hard to keep it together, to not let them hear what's happening, what you're doing to him. He grips the phone tighter, pressing his forehead against his fist, biting his knuckles as his breath shudders out. "Uh-huh", he grits out, "Yeah. Sounds... great".

You clench around him again, just for fun, watching how his whole body jerks, his throat working as he struggles not to groan into the receiver.

Stop it, he mouths at you.

You just smirk.

His eyes darken, a promise in them. His fingers tighten so hard on your hips that you can already feel where the bruises will be tomorrow. His jaw is clenched, breath short, sweat beading at his temple as he listens, well, pretends to listen, his free hand balled into a fist against his mouth, trying so damn hard not to make a sound.

But you can see it. See how wrecked he is. How close. How much he's struggling.

It's delicious.

So you keep going.

Grinding slow and deep, teasing, making sure he feels every single inch of you. Watching his face, the way his brows pull together, the way his eyes flicker between frustration and unfiltered need.

"Yeah", he manages, voice strangled, broken, completely unconvincing, "I'll- fuck, I'll be there".

You clench around him again, just to see him suffer.

And oh, does he suffer.

His whole body jerks, his fingers digging even harder into your skin, a guttural, barely restrained sound ripping from his throat before he covers it with a cough.

You bite your lip, stifling a laugh, and a moan.

Eddie's eyes snap to yours, dark and dangerous, his pupils blown wide with something that makes your stomach flip.

You know that look. And you know exactly what's about to happen when he finally gets off this fucking call.

So you push him further.

You pick up the pace, riding him harder now, watching him come undone, watching the war in his eyes, the desperate need to let go, the stubborn need to stay in control. His fingers tighten, then flex, then tighten again, gripping you like a warning, like a promise.

The call ends.

Eddie slams the phone back onto the receiver so hard it almost bounces off the nightstand.

And then he moves. Fast.

Before you can even blink, he flips you onto your back, knocking the breath from your lungs, spreading you open beneath him, pinning your wrists above your head."Oh, you are so fucking dead", he growls, voice thick, wrecked, breath hot against your skin.

You only smile up at him, breathless, laughing, "You fucking loved it"

His eyes flash, "That was fucking torture, and you're gonna pay for it".

You open your mouth to retort, but the words never leave your lips, because he's already on you, already dragging his mouth over your throat, down your chest, teeth grazing, tongue soothing, hands gripping, spreading, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Then he's inside you again, burying himself deep, dragging a sound from you that's all pleasure, all surrender.

"Yeah, that's what I thought", he murmurs against your skin, his voice low, rough, so goddamn smug. His grip tightens around your wrists, keeping you pinned beneath him as he moves, hard, deep, unrelenting. His breath is hot against your neck, rough and uneven, matching the way his body claims yours. "You think that was funny?" he rasps, voice thick with something dangerous and delicious, "You think you can just do that to me and get away with it?"

You can't even answer. Not when every thrust steals your breath, when every drag of his hips leaves you shaking, burning, needing more.

But he doesn't want words. He wants your reaction, the way your body arches for him, the way your nails dig into his hand, the way your legs wrap tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper.

His mouth is on you. Hot, desperate, biting and soothing all at once. He's obsessed, lost in you, lost in the way you feel wrapped around him. His breath is shaky, his voice thick with need as he groans against your throat. "You drive me fucking insane," he growls, his lips brushing the sensitive skin below your ear. His hands grip your hips, holding you down as he moves harder, deeper, stealing the breath from your lungs. He's guiding you, keeping you right where he wants you. The way he looks at you, eyes dark, pupils blown wide, completely wrecked, sends a shiver down your spine. The sounds between you are all gasps and groans, rasped-out curses, praises, your names falling from each other's lips like a prayer.

You can't get enough. You never can.

And neither can he.

"You like teasing me, huh?" he mutters against your skin, his voice rough, wrecked, "Now you gonna take everything I give you."

You nod, desperate, lost in the sensation, in him, in the way he's pulling you apart piece by piece.

He's relentless, ruining you in the best way, until you're trembling, shaking, gasping his name like it's the only word you know.

"Fuck, Sam", he growls, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading you wider, making you feel every inch of him.

You wrap around him, gasping, moaning, telling him to give you more, to ruin you, to keep going.

And he does, harder, rougher, pushing you to the edge until you're unraveling beneath him, shaking, crying out, gripping him like you'll never let go.

Still, he doesn't stop.

He won't stop until he has you wrecked, blissed out, until you're nothing but pleasure beneath him. Until all you can do is sob his name, tell him how good he is, how much you need him.

You barely catch your breath before he's flipping you again, pulling you on top of him, guiding you down onto him.

He watches you, eyes dark, lips parted, hands gripping your hips like he'll never let go. "Show me," he pants, voice thick with need, "Show me how much you love it."

You gasp, straddling him, hands falling on his sweaty chest as you start to move, slow at first, teasing, making him feel every inch of you. Your whole body is trembling, oversensitive, pleasure still thrumming through every nerve, but you don't stop.

You can't.

The way he looks at you, eyes dark, lips parted, chest heaving like he's barely holding himself together, makes it impossible.

You need more. Need to see him come undone just like you have, over and over again. So you keep moving, even though your thighs are shaking, even though every roll of your hips sends sparks of overwhelming sensation through you.

You let him see it all, feel it all, how wrecked you already are, but how much you love it anyway.

His head falls back, a groan tearing from his throat, fingers digging into your hips, guiding you harder, faster. "That's it," he rasps, eyes dark and locked on yours.

You smirk breathlessly, dragging your nails lightly down his stomach, feeling the way his muscles twitch beneath your touch. "Yeah, you love that, don't you?" you pant, rolling your hips in a way that has him cursing under his breath, "Love when I take you apart like this."

His grip tightens, his eyes flashing with something wild, something desperate. "You know I do", he growls as watches, drinks in every movement, every sound you make.

You throw your head back, bouncing on him, feeling his hand falling on your damp chest, grabbing your jiggling boob, squeezing it roughly. "Fuck, Eds", you pant, looking back down at him, biting your lip, breathing heavily as you fuck him harder.

His hands tighten on your waist, fingertips digging in like he needs to ground himself, needs to keep some kind of control.

But he's losing it, because of you.

You can see it in the way his brows knit together, in the way his throat works as he swallows hard, in the way his breathing stutters when you arch your back, giving him a full view of everything. "Jesus Christ", he groans, head tipping back against the pillow, hands sliding down to grip your thighs.

You smile, slow and wicked, loving the way his voice sounds, wrecked, ruined, barely holding together. "I love your dick", you moan, dragging your nails lightly down his stomach, feeling the way his muscles jump under your touch, "Fuck, it's so good".

He growls, deep in his chest, eyes snapping back to yours, burning. "Yeah? You love that cock, baby?" His hands squeeze your thighs, a silent command. "Now show me just how much".

You grin, biting your lip as you give him everything, every slow, teasing grind, every sharp, sudden movement that makes his breath catch, every little sound you can't hold back. You lean forward, hands braced on his chest, rolling your hips just the way you know drives him crazy, until he's swearing under his breath, his grip tightening like he wants to take control, but he can't. Not yet. Not when he's watching you like this, moving just for him, putting on a show he'll never forget.

"You feel too good," he grits out, head falling back for a moment before he forces his eyes back on you, refusing to miss a second of this. "God, baby, look at you. You- fuck, you're fucking unreal".

His words send heat rushing through you, only making you move faster, pushing both of you closer, making it impossible to hold back.

"I'm not gonna last", he grits out, voice strained, "Not when you- fuck"

You smirk, leaning down, kissing him deep, swallowing his groan as you move faster, taking him harder, deeper, chasing your own pleasure along with his.

He's close. So close.

His grip tightens, his body tenses beneath you, his breath goes ragged against your lips.

"Cum for me," you moan, biting his lip, rolling your hips just right, knowing exactly how to push him over the edge, "I wanna feel you cum deep inside me, baby, fucking fill me up".

With a deep, wrecked groan, he thrusts up into you one last time, his body locking up beneath you, his hands gripping you. His head tilts back, his breath stuttering, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as he loses himself completely.

You ride him through it, milking every last wave of pleasure from him until he's gasping, trembling, his body finally giving out beneath you.

You both collapse together, breathless, laughing between gasps, bodies tangled, skin damp and hot. He cups your face, dragging you in for a slow, deep kiss, still greedy, still wanting more.

"Never do that to me again", he mutters against your lips.

You grin, pressing your forehead to his, "No promises".

The hotel room still smells like you and Eddie, like sweat, sex, expensive soap, and last night's pizza.

You sigh dramatically as you sling your bag over your shoulder, but Eddie tuts, plucking it right off you and tossing it over his own. "Nuh-uh, princess," he mumbles, hoisting his own duffel onto his shoulder, "I wrecked you, I carry your shit. That's the rule."

You roll your eyes but can't fight the grin tugging at your lips as you step out into the hallway together, freshly showered, your skin still a little pink from the hot water and his hands.

Eddie's damp curls drip just a little onto the collar of his clean shirt. He looks sinfully good, ripped jeans slung low on his hips, a loose band tee clinging to his damp skin, hair still wet and wild from the shower.

You, on the other hand, are also glowing, skin warm from the steam, lips still tingling from the dozen or so kisses he stole between rinsing out his hair and actually washing himself.

The two of you step into the elevator, and the moment the doors close, you whine, pouting up at him, "I don't wanna leave."

Eddie raises a brow, amused, "That so?"

"I wanna stay in this stupidly fancy hotel forever," you continue, crossing your arms, "I wanna be naked in that bed forever. I wanna order room service and not pay for it. I wanna-"

"Fuck me into the mattress every night?" he supplies, smirking.

You huff, "That too."

Eddie laughs, wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you close as the elevator hums down the eight floors. His fingers trace absentminded circles on your back, his other hand gripping your bags like it's effortless. His lips brush your forehead, and when you tilt your head up, he captures your lips in a kiss, slow, deep, full of something more than just lust."Love you so much," he murmurs against your mouth.

"Love you too, babe".

He presses his forehead to yours, your nose filling with his scent, his voice soft, full of something promising, "I swear, baby, I'm gonna make something of this chance. Corroded Coffin is gonna go places. And when we do? I'm bringing you to all those fancy-ass hotels, with spas and room service and minibars full of fancy ass drinks. I'll pay for massages and hot dresses and even hotter underwear for you. I'll spoil the shit out of you, baby, I promise".

You giggle, melting into him, "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he whispers, kissing you again, just as slow, just as deep, "And I'll fuck the shit out of you in every single one of these hotel rooms. All over the world."

Your fingers curl in his shirt, and for a moment, you consider hitting the emergency stop button and testing out just how soundproof this elevator is.

But then the soft chime rings, and the doors slide open, pulling you back into reality.

Eddie groans, "Fucking cockblocking elevator."

You giggle, tugging him forward, and he lets you, shaking his head like you've ruined his plans for the morning.

Both of you step up to the front desk, and the employee smiles politely as she checks you out. "Everything to your liking, Mrs Munson?", she asks, and you blush immediately, nodding.

"Yes, absolutely".

Eddie grins like the goddamn Cheshire Cat. His arm tightens around your waist, pulling you against his side. "Mrs Munson", he repeats, smirking at you. You slap his chest and roll your eyes. "Still love the sound of that," he continues, all cocky and smug, leaning down to nuzzle your cheek, "Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it, sweetheart?"

Your face is burning, but you can't help but laugh as he presses a kiss on your hair, waiting until your checkout is done before both of you leave the counter.

The rest of Corroded Coffin is already waiting for you. Barely alive.

Gareth slumps in a lobby chair, sunglasses shielding his undoubtedly bloodshot eyes, slowly sipping from a bottle of water like it's the only thing keeping him alive.

Jeff has his hood up and looks like he might pass out any second.

And Grant? Grant is the worst of them all, grinning smugly as he waves off a girl in last night's clothes, her hair a mess, lips still swollen from whatever debauchery they got into. She blows him a kiss before strutting out the revolving doors, and he just stretches with a satisfied groan.

"Jesus Christ", Eddie snorts, "You guys look like a fuckin' crime scene".

Grant smirks, tugging his collar down to show off deep red scratches trailing down his chest, "Jealous, Munson?"

Eddie scoffs, squeezing your hand, "Nah, man. I don't need a reminder of last night. I lived it."

You just roll your eyes, grinning as you tug Eddie toward the couch where Gareth and Jeff are barely functioning. "You guys okay?" you ask, grabbing an extra water bottle off the table and passing it to Jeff, who takes it with a grateful nod.

Gareth groans, rubbing his temples. "No. Absolutely not. I need, like... six more hours of sleep and an IV drip."

"Lightweight", Eddie teases, flopping down beside him, legs sprawled.

"You're not even hungover?" Jeff finally croaks, voice hoarse.

Eddie stretches his arms over the back of the couch, utterly content. "S'what happens when you have a late night pizza. And, y'know, mind-blowing sex first thing in the morning".

Jeff just groans.

"You all look like shit," Eddie announces gleefully, not even trying to hide his amusement, "What, you couldn't handle a little afterparty?"

"You're talking way too loud," Gareth whines, rubbing his temples.

You take pity on them, pulling out the bottle of aspirin you packed, shaking it in front of them.

Jeff snatches it first, downing a couple before handing it off. "You're an angel," he says.

"No," Gareth groans as he swallows his own. "She's a demon. A cruel, heartless demon, looking all fresh while I wanna die."

"You did this to yourself," you tease.

He just glares.

"Alright, children," Eddie announces. "We got a plan."

You fill them in, how you're heading for the Black Cat first, grabbing the van and the equipment they left there last night, before heading downtown to meet the others for breakfast before they hit the road back home and you make your way to the radio station for the bands interview.

"Breakfast," Grant says slowly. "Food."

Gareth gags. "No."

Jeff perks up. "Coffee?"

"Lots of coffee," you confirm.

"Fine," Gareth grumbles, "But if I throw up on any of you, I warned you."

Eddie laughs, shaking his head as he stands back up, pulling you against him as he kisses your hair "Let's go, sweetheart. Before these idiots pass out in the lobby."

And with that, you head out, Eddie's hand never leaving yours, his fingers brushing against your knuckles as he steals little glances at you. Like he's still drunk off you. Like he's still sinking into the weekend, just as much as you are.

Half an hour later, with a packed van and the guys a little less dramatic now that the painkillers finally work their magic, you step into the café Elena recommended.

Wise as she is, she gave you her number last night to reach out today and check on your friends. You called her earlier from your hotel rooms landline, asking if they wanna meet for breakfast somewhere since you guys have to check out the at the hotel, but the band still has time until they need to be at the radio station. She told you a place close to her home, and here you are.

The café is a cozy little spot tucked into a street corner downtown, the kind of place with big windows, brick walls, and the scent of fresh coffee and buttered toast hanging in the air. When you and the guys step inside, the bell over the door jingles, and you immediately spot your friends.

Elena is perched in the booth by the window, stirring a sugar packet into her coffee, looking well-rested and freshly showered, despite the fact that she barely got any sleep last night.

Next to her, Steve is leaning back in his seat, looking relaxed but tired in that way that says, I just had some really good sex and I need caffeine to function.

Robin and Vickie sit across from them, giggling, their hands suspiciously close under the table.

"Look who finally decided to show up," Steve teases tiredly when he spots you, lifting his coffee cup in a lazy greeting.

"You're one to talk," you shoot back, slipping into the booth beside Elena as Eddie slides in across from you, draping an arm over the back of the seat, "You guys left before we did."

Steve just smirks, "And?"

Gareth, Jeff and Grant drop down into the seats at the neighboring booth, looking wrecked and hungover.

Jeff squints at Elena as if she's some kind of supernatural being, groaning, "How is this possible? You were hammered last night, and you look... like an angel".

You snort, shaking your head as you grab the sticky menu.

Elena smirks, sipping her coffee, "Bartender life. You learn how to deal with alcohol real quick. Hydration is key, babes".

Steve, despite looking like he got run over by the night before, still can't seem to keep his hands off her. He's got one arm lazily draped over her shoulders, his fingers tracing light patterns on her arm, and he's grinning like an idiot. Like a very smitten idiot. "He's right, you shouldn't look this good," he mumbles, dropping a dramatic kiss to her shoulder, "It's unfair."

She chuckles, rolling her eyes but leaning into him, "You're just mad because you can't function right now."

"You didn't let me sleep, woman," he groans, but he's smirking, looking absolutely pleased about it.

Robin snorts, rolling her eyes, "Oh, trust me, we know. We barely slept either."

Vickie groans, rubbing her temples, "We had to listen to you two ruining each other. Again. And again. And again. The whole night".

"Oh my god," Elena mutters, hiding her face in her coffee cup, while Steve just grins proudly.

You laugh, watching your new friend squirm next to you. Robin leans forward. "I don't even know who to be mad at. You, for screaming his name like you were summoning a demon? Or you..." she points at Steve, "for thanking her?!"

The guys burst into laughter, you snort and glance up, staring at Steve. "You thanked her?" Eddie repeats, his laugh raspy from last night, body shaking.

Steve shrugs, completely unapologetic, "It was a life-changing experience, okay?"

Elena covers her face, laughing so hard she almost spills her coffee.

Vickie, completely red, just shakes her head. "Awful. It was awful. I can never look into his eyes again".

Your conversation gets interrupted by a friendly waitress stepping at your table, taking your coffee and breakfast orders before leaving you again.

You realize Robin is giving you a look. That smug, knowing look that only best friends can translate without a single word spoken.

You raise an eyebrow. What?

She flicks her eyes toward Vickie, who's buttering her toast, completely unaware. Then back to you.

We haven't slept, but damn, we used our time wisely.

Your lips twitch, biting back a smirk.

Oh?

Robin sips her coffee, all nonchalant. Then nods.

Oh.

You grin, barely containing your excitement.

Finally.

Robin just shrugs, but the faintest pink creeps up her neck. And you know. She's done for.

Elena rolls her eyes at some Steve just said to her, nudging him playfully before turning her attention to you. "So, Sam, how are you so fresh right now, mh? Looking absolutely great today, you and your man". She grins at you, and you just shrug

"Secret weapon."

Eddie squeezes your thigh under the table. "Aspirin," he supplies, looking smug as ever, "And a good night's sleep."

"Good night's sleep, my ass," Gareth mutters, rubbing his temples at the other table,"I hate you both."

Robin snickers, "Hangovers that bad, huh?"

"They're dying," you chuckle, throwing another pitiful glance at Eddie's band, "Good we ordered lots of greasy food to make it even worse".

"You're evil," Grant groans, laying his head on the table.

"You love me," you chirp sweetly.

Vickie laughs, and Elena snuggles deeper into Steve's arm, while Eddie leans in over the table. "I do love you," he murmurs, and the way he says it makes your stomach flip.

You tilt your head just enough to meet his eyes, smiling softly. "I know. You're obsessed with me".

He chuckles, "You're absolutely right, baby".

You wiggle your brows, leaning further in. "Say that again", you grin, "I love hearing you say that, baby".

Robin snorts into her coffee, watching you two.

Eddie rolls his eyes, only stops your little game for the waitress to set down your coffees.

You wrap your hands around your mug, inhaling the rich scent of coffee as Eddie stirs an ungodly amount of sugar into his own.

The table hums with easy conversation, everyone slowly coming back to life.

Elena and Steve are still in their own little world. He's playing with a loose thread on her sweater, twirling it around his finger while she murmurs something to him that makes him grin. Every so often, he just... stares at her. Like he still can't believe she's real. It's almost gross. But also? Kind of sweet.

She giggles softly, leans up to whisper something into his ear, and he absolutely loses it. Then he sighs, grabs her chin, and kisses her. Right there. In front of everyone.

"You're killing me, babe" he mutters, still grinning against her lips, "Can't contain myself."

The table whoops and whistles.

Eddie laughs, throwing an exaggerated look at Robin. "So, uh, think he's over Nancy yet?"

Robin nods, completely deadpan. "Yeah, I think we're good."

Steve flips them off, still kissing Elena.

You watch them, amusedly shaking your head and sipping your coffee.

"So, what's the deal here?", your boyfriend finally asks as they part, waving his spoon between them, "We making this official or what?"

Elena lifts an eyebrow. "What, you wanna put a label on it for us?"

"Yeah, Munson, what are you, the relationship police?" Steve teases, but his hand tightens just a little around Elena's waist, like he's daring her to pull away.

Eddie grins. "Hey, I'm just sayin'. You're lookin' at her like she's the best thing that's ever happened to you, and honestly, it's a little pathetic."

Steve scoffs, "Look who's talking."

Eddie just shrugs, completely unbothered, "I am pathetic. That's the difference."

You laugh, nudging him, "Aw, baby, you admit it?"

"For you? Always."

Robin fake gags. "I hate this table."

The waitress reappears then, balancing plates of food on her arms. You all perk up immediately, grateful for the distraction.Pancakes, eggs, toast, hash browns, and entire mountains of bacon are set in front of you, and the next few minutes are mostly filled with the sounds of utensils scraping plates and contented sighs.

Except for Eddie, who finishes his food in record time and then immediately starts stealing bites of yours.

"Eddie," you whine, swatting at his hand.

He grins, chewing obnoxiously, "What? You always order better than me".

"That's because I actually read the menu," you retort, holding your fork protectively over your plate.

He just wiggles his brows, tapping his fingers against your thigh, "C'mon, baby. Don't you wanna share with your obsessed boyfriend?"

You sigh, dramatically. "You're so lucky you're cute."

"And hot," he adds.

"And hot," you concede.

"And really good in bed"

Your face flames immediately.

Robin slams her hand on the table. "NOPE. We are not doing this again."

Eddie just laughs, leaning in to steal another kiss.

The conversation flows easily, bouncing between last night's chaos and future plans.

Steve asks Eddie about the band's radio interview. Robin teases Vickie about something that happened at work.

Elena checks her watch and sighs. "I gotta head to the bar soon. Have a meeting with my manager."

Steve pouts dramatically. "What, already trying to get rid of me?"

She rolls her eyes, but the fondness is obvious. "Yes, Steve. I'm actively trying to get rid of you after you made me cum, like, five times last night."

Steve chokes on his coffee.

The table erupts again, Eddie actually has to wipe his eyes. "Jesus Christ, I love her."

Elena just shrugs, unbothered as you both share an amused glance.

Steve, on the other hand, is still coughing, his face bright red. "Yeah, okay," he croaks. "Think I am in love now."

Robin throws her hands up. "Oh, my GOD, this morning is chaos."

"No!" You slap Eddie's hand away as he tries to steal a bite again.

He pouts. Full-on, bottom-lip-jutting-out, puppy-eyed pouting. "But baby-", he starts, and you shake your head, cutting him off.

"You ate already."

Dark eyes cheekily shine at you. "So?"

"You're not stealing my pancakes."

He tilts his head, grinning, "I could steal you instead."

Your stomach flips, but you keep your cool, smirking at him as you have another bite, "You wish."

He leans in, voice dropping low, "Baby, if we weren't in public, I'd have you on my lap right now, feeding you bites of pancake between kisses."

You almost choke on your pancake bite.

Robin sighs dramatically, looking at Vickie, "Why do they have to be like this? First Steve and Elena, now these two?"

Vickie giggles, cheeks turning pink, "At least they're entertaining?"

Eddie winks at her, then steals a bite of your pancake while you're distracted.

"Eddie!"

He chews, so smugly, looking way too pleased with himself.

The table groans.

"Swear to god," Steve mutters, "if I have to watch one more couple make heart-eyes at each other, I'm walking into traffic."

"You're literally cuddling Elena right now," Robin deadpans.

Steve shrugs, "Yeah, but that's different."

Elena just laughs, poking at his cheek. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you like me."

She hums, sipping her coffee. "I tolerate you."

You all spill out of the café, bell jingling behind you as the cold November air bites at your skin.

The sunlight is weak, struggling through the clouds, but it's enough to make everyone squint after being inside for so long.

Robin stretches with an exaggerated groan, tilting her head back, "God, food coma. I need a nap. Vickie, please tell me you'll drive."

Vickie laughs, already stealing Steve's keys out of his jacket pocket before he can protest, "Way ahead of you."

Steve, still glued to Elena's side, only hums in response, more focused on running his hands up and down her arms like she might disappear if he stops touching her.

She looks cozy pressed into him, taking her time with him though her shift is creeping closer.

"Alright, rockstars," Robin turns to the band, her smirk teasing. "You better not embarrass us on the radio. We'll be listening in the car, and I'll be personally offended if you don't greet us".

They all chuckle and nod, Eddie laughs as he lights himself a cigarette.

"Good luck, guys", Vickie smirks, waving at them with Steve's keys between her fingers, "See you at school tomorrow".

"Don't worry, Bucks," Eddie grins, flicking his cigarette away and caging you against the van like he has no intention of moving anytime soon, "We're professionals."

Grant snorts, rubbing his temple, "Says the guy who almost fell off the stage last night."

"That was stage presence," Eddie argues, and you roll your eyes, smiling as you light a cigarette yourself.

"Right," Robin drawls, unimpressed. She turns to you, "You gonna make sure they don't all pass out mid-interview?"

You smirk. "Obviously. Band mom duties."

Elena snorts at that, but Eddie is way too quick to jump on it. "Oh? Does that make me the daddy, then?"

A chorus of groans erupts from the group.

"Eddie, I swear to god-"

"I'm leaving," Grant announces, already walking away.

Vickie giggles, cheeks pink as she tugs Robin toward the car. "C'mon, Robs, let's go before they say something worse."

Steve stays behind for a moment, still wrapped around Elena. He tugs at the sleeve of her sweater, tilting his head,"You sure you can't just... quit your job? Come with me instead?"

She chuckles, nudging his ribs, "Oh yeah, let me just ditch my entire life to be your personal cheerleader."

He grins, hopeful, "So that's a maybe?"

Elena laughs, shaking her head. "You're ridiculous."

"And yet, you still let me touch you", he grins, making her roll her eyes and snuggle further into his chest.

"You're warm," she shrugs, totally casual as she slides her arm into his opened jacket, "That's your only redeeming quality right now."

Steve clutches his chest dramatically, looking around at the group, "Are you hearing this? She's so mean to me."

"You deserve it," Robin calls from the car, already buckling in.

Steve sighs, like this is the greatest hardship of his life, but when Elena tugs him down and presses a kiss to his cheek, his entire expression softens.

Eddie chuckles, pulling you in, murmuring, "Man's a goner".

"Yeah", you chuckle, taking a drag, "But she is, too".

"Alright, Romeo, time to go before you start writing poetry about her or something", Robin calls from his car, but Steve doesn't even look away from Elena, his arms still around her.

"If I do, I'm mailing it to you."

She smirks, "I expect nothing less."

Then, she finally steps away, arms slipping from around him as she exhales, watching him walk toward the car where Robin is already glaring daggers at him through the windshield.

He's only a few steps away when he suddenly stops, like something in him just won't let him go yet. Then, before she can react, he spins around, strides back, and grabs her. She barely has time to gasp before he dips her back, kissing her hard, like he's in the final scene of some dramatic rom-com.

A few people walking by actually pause to look, and you swear you hear Gareth mutter, "Jesus Christ."

When he finally pulls back, he hovers close, brushing his nose against hers as he murmurs, "I'll come back soon." His voice is low, certain.

Elena, slightly breathless, smirks, "You better."

Steve grins, pressing one last quick kiss to her lips before finally, finally letting her go.

With one last lingering look, he jogs back to the car, slipping inside as Robin dramatically slams her head back against the seat. He slides in, throwing one last glance her way as Vickie starts the engine.

Then, with a honk and a wave, they're gone.

"That guy, man," Eddie chuckles, shaking his head as the car pulls away.

You all watch it disappear down the street, and when it's gone, Elena exhales, waving softly after them. As she turns back around, she's met with you and Eddie grinning at her. Her cheeks flush instantly. "What?"

Eddie waggles his brows. "Oh, nothing. Just watching our friend here fall for the Harrington charm in real-time."

Elena scoffs, rolling her eyes, but there's no hiding the small, pleased smile playing on her lips.

You nudge her. "Not bad for a work night, huh?"

She laughs, shaking her head, "Not bad at all."

Meanwhile, Gareth, Jeff, and Grant are still leaning against the van, too busy smoking and trying not to die of nerves to care about Steve's grand farewell. Jeff exhales slowly. "This is insane. We're about to be on the radio. Live."

"Don't remind me," Grant groans, rubbing his face. "I feel like I'm gonna throw up."

"You'll be fine," Gareth says, though he doesn't sound entirely convinced.

Eddie just laughs, tugging you closer, cigarette dangling between his fingers.

"Alright," Grant finally sighs, "let's get this over with before I pass out".

"Such enthusiasm," Eddie teases. "At least try to sound excited,"

Gareth groans, rubbing his temple, "We're about to be on the fucking radio."

Eddie grins, bumping his shoulder against yours. "You hear that, sweetheart? We're about to be on the fucking radio." His excitement is buzzing, practically electric under his skin, and you can't help but smile, mirroring it.

"I know," you mutter, proud and so in love, "It's crazy."

He leans in, voice low, "And you're coming with me. Gonna sit there, watch me, and think, damn, my man is sexy as hell."

You smirk, taking a drag of your cigarette, "Eddie, I already think that."

His grin widens, eyes flickering with something warm, something mischievous. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you murmur, flicking your cigarette away before tugging him into a quick kiss.

Jeff groans. "Can we get in the van before they start making out again?"

Eddie rolls his eyes but pulls back, still smirking, "I'll behave". Then, completely unbothered, he grins, reaches around you and grabs your ass, making you jump and Elena snort.

"Edward," you hiss, swatting at him, but he just smirks.

Grant groans. "I'm begging you. Can we go now?"

Eddie laughs, finally actually stepping away, hollering, "Alright, rockstars, let's roll! We don't wanna be late! Time to write fucking history".

You turn back to Elena, rolling your eyes as she amusedly grins at you.

"Guess it's time to say goodbye, mh?"

You nod, pulling her into a hug. "Thanks for sticking around last night. For everything."

She smiles, squeezing you back. "Thanks for making me stay. For introducing me to your friends, your... lover." She smirks. "And Steve."

You laugh, pulling back. "You gonna be okay?"

She grins, eyes still gleaming, "I just had the night of my fucking life, Sam. I think I'll manage."

Eddie whistles. "Harrington, man. Who knew?"

Elena rolls her eyes but doesn't deny it.She tucks her hands into her sweater sleeves, glancing between you and the guys. "Good luck with that radio stuff. And Sam?" She levels you with a look. "Focus on your music, too, okay? Your song? Mind-blowing. Don't just get caught up in Eddie's band, you've got something special, too."

Your heart flutters a little, and you nod, "I will."

"Good." She smirks. "Alright, go be famous. You got my number, call me whenever you're in Indy. Maybe I'll even come to Hawkins sometime, if you're lucky."

You grin. "I'll hold you to that."

"See you, babe." With one last wave, she steps back, watching as you pile into the van. And then, with the radio station ahead and Eddie's excitement buzzing in the air, you're off.