Chapter Text
“I’m just saying, we could’ve set up shop somewhere that doesn’t get this fucking cold in the winter.” Robin’s grumbling had persisted since they’d walked out of Steve’s apartment six blocks before and been immediately hit by a blast of arctic air that made his face feel like it was going to split apart.
“Not somewhere that has rent as cheap in a building devoid of sanitary violations.” They’d had the same conversation every winter since they had set up shop in Indianapolis five years before. “Besides, you like that Thai place that we get food from.”
“Well, that’s true. I would miss the Tom Kha Kai. Fine, you’ve twisted my arm, we can stay.” She replied with a dreamy sigh.
“You’re a generous woman, Robin Buckley, how can I ever repay you?” She gave him a smirk in response. Steve felt his wallet already starting to weep at the mass amount of Thai that he was sure they’d be ordering for lunch, but he pushed the thought away with a sip of the coffee steaming in a paper cup in his gloved hand.
The gray, ominous looking sky had just begun to spit wet, heavy snowflakes when they reached the awning of the building. Steve balanced his coffee in one hand and used the other to punch in the building code, the keypad beeping noisily at him before flashing green. He shouldered the door open, holding it for Robin to shuffle her way in from the cold.
“There’s my two favorite tenants!” Came a cheerful voice from behind the large, pine front desk. Steve shook the snowflakes off of his slouched, charcoal beanie and the ends of his hair before he gave the woman a broad smile.
“We’re your only tenants right now, Nance.” He chuckled.
“That doesn’t mean we’re not her favorites. We’re delightful.” Robin chimed in, sliding a paper cup across the desk toward Nancy. “For you! A red eye with milk and one sugar.”
“Mm, I stand corrected.” She lifted the coffee and inhaled the curling steam, her eyes fluttering closed with a pleased hum. “ Robin is my favorite tenant. Sorry, Steve.” Robin pumped her fist in the air with a hissed ‘yesss’ while Steve scoffed.
“Robin isn’t the one that signs our rent check! I pay you!” Nancy waved her hand dismissively as she sipped the coffee.
“Anyway, as of last night, you two aren’t the only tenants anymore.”
“Seriously? Who rented the space? Those guys with the accounting business decide to come back again?” Steve questioned, his eyebrows going up toward his hairline in surprise.
“Not quite. You’ll meet them soon enough, I’m sure.” Steve squinted at the short answer skeptically, his brow furrowed.
“You’re being weird about this. Why are you being weird about this?” He questioned, his expression unwavering.
“No weirdness here. You two should get upstairs, almost time to unlock your doors.” Nancy smiled innocently. He stared a moment longer, but she was, annoyingly, correct. They had to get upstairs to open up the shop and get set up ahead of their first clients for the day.
“We’re not done here, Wheeler. I’ve got more questions for you.” He pointed at her as he walked backwards toward the elevator that Robin was jabbing the button repeatedly for. The doors slid open with a quiet grinding sound and the pair stepped in. A moment later, the heavy metal slid closed, cutting off the investigative scowl that he was shooting at Nancy.
“Next time I complain about it being cold here, remind me that cold means Nancy Wheeler in sweaters.” Robin swooned, her back hitting the wall of the elevator, her face the epitome of lovestruck. Steve chuckled into his coffee, taking a long drink, and shook his head.
“Hopeless, Buckley, you’re hopeless for that woman.”
“Can you blame me?” The elevator lurched just a bit as it hit the second floor and the doors creaked open again. “You’ve seen her!”
“Yes, she’s very pretty.” Steve responded reassuringly while pulling the keys from his pocket and shoving one into the lock. The door swung into the shop easily and with a flip of the switch beside the door light bathed the shop floor.
“I’m going to start setting up for my first client, do you need anything from the closet while I’m grabbing gloves?” He shook his head as he shrugged out of the wool peacoat he’d thrown on that morning over his favorite soft, blue and red flannel.
Steve tossed the jacket over the coat rack along with the soft, black cashmere scarf Robin had saved up to get him for Christmas the year before and lifted a hand to tug at the plugs in each ear in turn, rotating the stone in each stretched hole a few times to get the blood flowing around them again after the cold. He always hated the weird numb feeling he got around his piercings when he walked around too much in the winter.
The process repeated with his eyebrow piercing and the ring in his lip before he finally swiped the coffee off of the small side table beside the door and headed toward his station to flop down onto the well cushioned chair.
“I’ve got a nine o’clock for a tongue piercing, when’s your first appointment?” Robin questioned, tossing two boxes of nitrile gloves onto the counter at the piercing station that took up the left side of the shop.
“Uh,” Steve hauled his phone out of his pocket to scroll into the scheduling app. “I’ve got a couple of sorority girls coming in from the college at 10 for their greek letters which should only be about forty-five minutes, then I have a guy coming in to start the linework and shading for a full back piece for a couple of hours at eleven. Closing out the day with a leg piece for that guy from last week, the guy that wanted the dragon.”
“The weird guy that kept staring at your ass when he thought neither of us were looking?” She wrinkled her nose in response.
“That’s the one. You can’t fault the guy, really. I do have a nice ass.”
“If by “nice” ass, you mean “no” ass, then sure.” She mumbled, pulling out a few pre-packaged needles and jewelry as she side-eyed him.
Steve rolled his eyes and locked his phone, shoving it back into his jeans pocket. His boots squeaked against the tiled floor as he rolled backwards toward the street facing window to flick the switch on the LED light that read Petal & Thorn Tattoo and he let out a content sigh as he always did each morning when they settled in for a day of work, side by side, at the shop they owned together.
Open for business.
Steve’s first few appointments went by relatively smoothly.
Well.
Smooth may not have been the term for them.
The sorority girls had been…it was their first tattoo, and they had been woefully underprepared for the sting of the needle. But, Steve had talked them through it and told them how great they’d done as he’d been wrapping cling wrap around their ankles. One had covertly slipped him her number which he’d given her a polite smile about, but had tossed into the trash can as soon as they’d left.
Robin had a few piercing clients while he worked through the back piece, but he mostly missed them as he lost himself in the pulling of clean lines, wiping ink away, and fluttering the tattoo gun across skin for the shading. By the time he had finished that piece for the day when the client’s skin had swollen enough to say it wasn’t taking anymore ink, it was almost time for his last client of the day.
He stood to press his hands into his lower back, stretching until there was a quiet pop and he let out a soft groan of relief. He really had to stop hunching so much while he was working, but he always got so invested in the pieces that he didn’t really notice until it was too late.
“You’re gonna fuck up your back if you keep that up.” A voice came from behind him, causing him to spin on his heel, his hand coming to press over his heart in surprise.
“ Jesus .” He hissed out, his eyes roaming over the man in front of him, quickly realizing that this was his last appointment. “You gotta make more noise when you walk, man.” He chuckled, embarrassed, and moved the hand on his chest to rub at the back of his neck. “And, yeah, I know I will, but it’s a habit at this point. Anyway, enough about my rapidly aging back. Welcome to Petal and Thorn . Or, uh, welcome back? I guess?”
“Take a breath, man, I already made the appointment, you don’t gotta sell yourself so hard.” The man snickered, a smug grin on his face.
“Alright, alright, well, let’s get this started then…uh…” Steve furrowed his brow, trying to decide if he could pull out his phone to check the name on his appointment app without being conspicuous.
Remembering shit had never been his forte, but it only got worse with each fight that he lost in high school. He lost a lot of them…
“Eddie.” The man, Eddie , stuck his hand out. Steve took it in his own, slightly fascinated to see his own inked hands shaking Eddie’s bare ones. “Eddie Munson.”
“Well, just gimme one sec to get the station all set up and then we’ll get that leg shaved and get to work. Feel free to have a seat over there on the chairs by the door, or hangout here, whichever you’re more comfortable with.” Eddie made a show of shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking on his heels, clearly content with staying right where he was.
Steve pulled a shrug before he went to work, spraying down the toolbox that he used as a workstation with alcohol, wrapping the top in cling film, and then setting out his needles, guns, and ink caps.
He eyed the ink bottles he had lined up together skeptically, gnawing at his lower lip in concentration, before pulling a bottle of black, a few shades of green, some reds and oranges, and a bottle of yellow and filling the ink caps with the colors. He surveyed the setup for a moment before giving himself a solid nod and grabbing a disposable razor from the glass jar he kept them in and pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Alright, Eddie, let’s see the space we’re working with here.” Eddie settled himself onto the tattoo bed enough to hold out his leg, the pant leg rolled up to just under his knee.
“All yours, Steve-o, knock yourself out.” Steve chuckled quietly to himself and sprayed some green soap onto a paper towel, inhaling the clean antiseptic scent of it and letting it help him settle into the routine of setting up.
He paused, razor hovering over Eddie’s leg.
“Actually, do you mind rolling that pant leg up a bit higher for me? I want to make sure we shave high enough.” Eddie shot him a sly grin as he moved to roll the jeans out of the way.
“I usually don’t show this much leg without someone buying me dinner first, but for you? I guess I can make an exception.” Steve’s face flamed with a blush almost immediately and he silently cursed himself when he heard Robin snicker from her station. He knew he was easy to rile up, but it didn’t mean that this random client doing it didn’t grate at him.
“Hardy har.” He said with a quiet chuckle, making sure that he wasn’t being too rude, but still making a point to not engage too much. Eddie, thankfully, didn’t push further and Steve got to work scrubbing Eddie’s leg.
The green soap on the paper towel created a lather easily as he swiped over the skin in long, efficient strokes, the foam made the soft, curly hair on Eddie’s leg mat together a bit as he went but it was soon being swiped away in small tufts by the razor in Steve’s skilled hands.
“Alright, I know you’ve got a few other tattoos,” Understatement , Steve mentally corrected himself, Eddie had nearly as much of his skin covered as Steve did. “But I always warn everyone, so you’ll have to deal with me telling you that this is gonna sting a little.” He shook the spray bottle of alcohol he had in one hand before spraying a clean paper towel and swiping it over the bare patch he’d shaved.
“Hey, no complaints here, I prefer an over-communicator to an under-communicator, personally.” Eddie replied, shivering at the sting of the alcohol. “My first artist didn’t talk me through shit, just kinda went for it. Hurt like a bitch, too.”
“Yeah,” Steve grunted in response. “Mine did too. Part of why I wanted to become an artist myself. I would’ve enjoyed my first session way more if the guy hadn’t been a tool about it. Can you hop up for me? I’m gonna go print the stencil real quick and then we’ll get it transferred over.”
“To be fair,” Eddie drawled, pushing himself off of the tattoo bed with a little hop. “I was my first tattoo artist. I was a real dick about it.” A surprised laugh bubbled out of Steve’s mouth without him being able to stop it.
“Hang tight, man, I’ll be right back.” Eddie gave him a playful salute and Steve crossed to the thermal copier, the sketch he’d drawn up of the dragon clutched in his hand. He was feeding the sketch and the transfer paper through the machine when Robin bumped against his shoulder gently. “Hey, you. Your appointments done?” He questioned with an affectionate smile.
“Mhm, just finished up with the last one for today. Snakebites, you know how I love those.” She beamed a smile before she gave him the look that usually preceded her asking him for something. “Soooo…you know I love you.”
“What do you want, Buckley?” He questioned, his eyes fixed on the stencil in his hand, making sure that it transferred well.
“Nance asked if I wanted to go grab a couple drinks and then go to dinner. Are you cool here if I head out early for this? I can stay if you need me to!” She kept her voice low enough that Eddie wouldn’t hear it over the quiet music filtering from the shop speakers. Steve sighed, grinning.
“Hopeless.” He waved her off casually. “Get outta here, go have fun with Nance. I’m fine.”
“You’re sure? Like, sure sure?” She said with a hopeful little bounce on the balls of her feet.
“A hundred percent. I’ll meet you tomorrow morning and we can walk together.” He said, as if they didn’t walk to work together every single day from their apartment building. She squealed quietly and planted a loud kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you big time, babe.” She grabbed her jacket and fluffy beanie with the little poof ball on top that he’d bought her as a gift, and then she was gone, leaving him alone in the shop with Eddie.
“Alright, let’s get this stencil on.” He gave the man a professional smile before crouching in front of Eddie, a bottle of stencil transfer lotion in one hand. He squeezed a small amount onto his gloved hand and rubbed it over the skin vigorously. Once he was satisfied with the coverage, he grabbed the stencil from its resting place on the bed and lined it up with the center of Eddie’s shin.
He eyed the position a few different ways before settling and pressing the paper against skin, smoothing it out gently to ensure that the lines were as crisp as they could be. When he pulled the thin paper away carefully, he gave himself a mental high-five.
The confidence drained from him when he glanced up to ask Eddie for his thoughts on the positioning and found himself at eye level with the handcuff belt buckle that peeked out from underneath Eddie’s well-worn Metallica t-shirt. Suddenly his flannel felt like it was a poor choice, when had it gotten that warm in the shop?
He shook the flushed feeling away and cleared his throat as he stood up a bit too quickly. He blinked away the mild dizziness from the movement and gestured toward Eddie’s leg.
“Go, uh, go ahead and take a look in the mirror over there, tell me what you think of the placement and the sizing.” He pointed toward the floor length mirror beside his station. He was startled when he found Eddie’s dark eyes locked on him with a sly grin teasing at the corners of his lips. He felt pinned down by that heated gaze until Eddie turned away to comply, twisting his leg this way and that in the mirror before nodding.
“Looks good to me, Stevie.”
“Perfect, hop on up on the bed and we’ll get started so we can get you outta here in decent time. I’m sure you’ve got plenty of other stuff to do today.” He plopped himself down onto his stool, thanking the foresight he’d had to buy the cushioned stool when his tailbone didn’t meet a metal support like it had on his previous stool.
Eddie did as he was told, shuffling a bit to get comfortable on the leather bed with his leg extended toward Steve. His foot hung off the end of the bed, but Steve maneuvered around it, his thighs bracketing the foot on either side.
“Alright, dude, you ready?” He picked up the tattoo machine in one hand and a folded piece of wet paper towel in the other as he asked the question. He lifted his gaze back to check in with Eddie who gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up.
“Let’s rock and roll.”
“This is gonna burn, don’t be afraid to let me know if you need a break.” He said it to every single client he had on every single tattoo. It was a tradition he’d made as soon as he’d started his apprenticeship years before. His own first artist had not given him that warning, so he vowed that none of his own clients would feel like they had to power through silently.
“Appreciate the heads up.” Eddie chuckled, but it wasn’t a condescending chuckle like he would’ve expected, it was a genuinely amused one. He took that as a good sign.
With that, Steve pressed his foot against the pedal on the floor, listened to the whir of the tattoo machine and felt the vibrations of it buzzing up his forearm. He dipped the needle in black ink and used two fingers on his left hand to stretch the skin of Eddie’s shin taught and pressed the needle to skin for the first thin, curling line of the dragon.
Eddie let out a soft huff of air above him and he glanced up, another check in. Eddie gave him a soft nod and wiggled his torso a bit to relax back against the elevated back of the bed, making a show of the fact that he was comfortable. He took that as a sign to continue and let himself get lost in the flow of line work.
“So, why a dragon?” He asked, his voice strained over the sound of his machine. He wiped away the pooling ink a few times before moving onto the next line. Eddie was quiet for long enough to make Steve glance up from behind his black-framed glasses. Eddie was gnawing at his bottom lip.
“Alright, tattoo parlors are judgment free zones, yeah?” Steve gave him a quick nod.
“Course, man. No judgment here.” He focused back on the linework in front of him.
“Dungeons and Dragons.” Eddie mumbled, just loud enough to be heard over the machine.
“Come again?” Steve eased off the pedal so he could hear the response.
“I play Dungeons and Dragons, you know, the roleplaying game? DND?” There it was, the lightbulb moment.
“Oh! My friends play that. Well. Kids I used to babysit…friends. Whatever they are, they play that every Monday. That’s cool, man.” He gave Eddie a smile.
“I…you don’t seem the type to know people that play DND. No offense.” Steve raised a brow at that.
“What happened to the no judgment zone, huh? I’ll have you know, I am a deep, complex man.” He chuckled at his own comment, but his face flushed when he glanced back up and saw Eddie staring him down with a dark expression.
“Oh, I’m sure there’s a million layers to you, Steve.”
Well, shit.
That rattled him more than it should have. He cleared his throat and gave him a nervous smile.
“Take a deep breath, tiger, I’m just fucking with you.” Eddie chuckled as he fished out his phone and started casually scrolling through it, popping an earbud in easily.
Steve silently thanked whoever was listening that the man seemed to be content to let the comfortable silence settle between them and he focused on getting to work.
He couldn’t wait to get this man out of his shop and feel like he had solid footing again.
“And he kept like…flirting with me but not flirting with me?” Steve made a non-commital gesture with his bear claw as they headed toward the building the next morning. Robin took a long sip of her latte.
“Did you…. want him to be flirting with you?” She questioned, her brow raised. Steve turned his head to scowl down at her.
“Do we have to have that conversation again? It was weird, can’t we just leave it at that?”
“I guess so. For now.” She shrugged a shoulder. “How’d the tattoo turn out, at least?”
“Oh, it turned out great. Gorgeous, even.” He clenched his bear claw in his teeth and dug his phone out of his pocket, pulling up the photo that he took of Eddie’s leg to show her.
The dragon really did turn out pretty cool. The greens and yellows blended easily together in the intricate scales, and the line work was damned near perfect. It looked like the dragon was about to fly off the man’s leg and like he could reach out and touch the fire.
Photorealism was his specialty for a reason, damn it.
“Jesus, Steve, that’s gorgeous.” Robin breathed out as they reached the steps outside the building. “You got all that done yesterday?”
“Yeah, I figured it would be two sessions, but the guy sat like a rock. Didn’t need a break at all, skin held ink like a champ, minimal swelling. Dude may have been a weirdo, but he was a model tattoo client.” He tapped the code into the door and opened it for Robin.
They went through their greetings at the desk with Nancy and made their way into the elevator, riding quietly until the doors opened.
“Well, at least it’s over with now, right? No second sessions to sit through with your big, gay panic.” Robin teased, a smug smile hidden behind her coffee cup. Steve rolled his eyes and shoved the key into the lock like he had every day since they opened the shop.
“It’s not a big, gay panic.”
“What would you call it, then?” Steve was quiet for a beat too long and she snickered. “Exactly.”
“Fuck off.” He shoved a bite of the pastry into his mouth, chewing obnoxiously just because he knew that it annoyed her. “Wha’s y’r–.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you're a man, not an animal.” She scoffed, thumbing through the appointment book on her counter. He’d have made fun of her for the physical book again, but his mouth was still full. He chewed until he could swallow in annoyance instead.
“What’s your schedule look like?” He finally questioned. Robin hummed, her brow furrowed in concentration and her nose wrinkled in that way he’d always found adorable.
“I have a ten thirty for an eyebrow, and then I’m pretty straight out with appointments from eleven on. What about you?” He pulled out his phone, thumbing through his calendar.
“I have–.” The response was cut off by quite possibly the loudest sound that Steve had ever heard coming from outside their door. They both jumped in surprise at the sound and stared at each other in shock. “What the fuck is that ?” He called out. Robin shrugged, her hands going over her ears.
“It’s out there, whatever it is!” Steve set his coffee and bear claw down before heading toward the front door, throwing it open. The sound was louder in the hallway and it was very clear that it was coming from three doors to the right of the shop.
Steve gestured for Robin to stay put and stalked across the hallway toward the pounding racket. He could feel a headache starting to burrow into the base of his skull. It really wasn’t helping his annoyance level.
He raised a fist to pound against the door in three fast knocks. He waited for a few moments but when the sound was still unrelenting, he pounded until the sound stopped and he heard voices inside followed by footsteps coming to the door. The knob turned slowly and the door swung inward.
“What the hell is going on in,” Steve’s loud protest cut off when he saw familiar dark eyes staring back at him. “Here…”
“Well, well, well,” Eddie smirked, leaning his shoulder against the door frame. “Howdy-do, neighbor. What can I help you with?”
That explained why Nancy was being weird about his new neighbor.
“Eddie, what the hell are you doing here?” Steve questioned, his teeth gritted hard enough that he could swear he felt his jaw creaking.
“Well, Steve, this here” He tugged at the wide, red guitar strap that was slung across his chest, rattling the sleek looking black guitar hanging over his shoulders. “Is a guitar. And what we’re doing here is making sweet, sweet music to keep the bard spirit alive.”
That smug grin made Steve’s blood thunder in his ears in annoyance.
“I mean what are you doing in the building? You can’t have thought that renting an office space was a good spot for your little…band practice.”
“Nance is a friend of a friend, she told them she had a space for rent, the price was right, who was I to pass up such a great offer? Especially with how much of an upgrade this is from our last practice space. No roaches, no broken windows, no questionable smells. Right, fellas?”
The two men behind him simply grunted in agreement. Steve let his eyes flick briefly to them before he rolled them and shifted his gaze back to Eddie. He was even more annoyed to find that the man was completely unruffled by the expression on his face.
His parents may not have given him many good things, but he’d inherited one hell of a bitch face from his mother that was known to stop grown men dead in their tracks.
“And you didn’t think that maybe, just maybe, this could’ve been something you mentioned when you were in my shop? Professional courtesy? No? Instead, you decided that our first interactions as…neighbors should be this.” He thrust a hand back and forth between them jerkily.
Eddie shrugged one shoulder before leaning against the door frame, one slim arm extended against it in the picture of relaxation. Steve had a brief thought that he could kick one of the man’s crossed feet out and watch him fall flat on his face. Nance would kill him. It may be worth it. Robin would give him a good eulogy anyway.
“Consider it free entertainment for your clients. Honestly, you should be thanking me. I’ve heard your ‘playlist’.” The last word was drawn out with unnecessary air quotes. Rude. “I take gifts in the form of coffee, edible arrangements, or peanut M&M’s. Dealer’s choice, Stevie.”
“It’s Steve .” He hissed through his clenched teeth. He was about to tell him exactly where he could shove his peanut M&M’s when he felt Robin at his side, her shoulder pressed right to his.
“Oh,” She said, her eyebrows shooting up toward her hairline. The movement caused her septum ring to jolt in the way that Steve always teased her about. “Hey, Eddie. Are you…you’re the new tenant?”
“We are indeed, Miss Buckley.” Eddie gave her a megawatt grin that, for some reason, made Steve scoff. “This is my band, Corroded Coffin.” He gestured behind him, completely ignoring Steve.
“You guys play at that club downtown!” Robin snapped her fingers and Eddie clapped his hands together excitedly in response.
“Yes! I knew you’d know, you’re a cool woman, Robin.” He chuckled, shifting from foot to foot in a small dance.
“I’ve heard you guys a few times.” She nodded excitedly. “You’re, like, really good!”
“High praise coming from a woman of your caliber! We’ll take it!” Eddie placed his hands over the left side of his chest in a heart shape.
“Can we get back to the problem at hand here, please?!” Steve placed his hands on his hips with a sigh. “We can’t have this shit happening while we have clients, man. We gotta work something out that works for both of us if this is going to…” He waved his hands in a circle before they settled on his hips, his nose scrunched in annoyance as he settled on “…Work.” Stupid.
“Oh, I can just feel a Google spreadsheet brewing in that pretty head of yours, Harrington. And, frankly? The idea is making my skin crawl, so get it right outta there.” Eddie gave an overly dramatic shudder. “Look, how’s this, we’ll keep the volume below ear bleeding level, and you give your clients a little heads up on our practice days? Honestly, you’ve got the quietest tattoo shop I’ve ever been in, anyway, it’s a little weird. I’m sure they’d like to have a bit more of a traditional vibe.”
“Traditional vibe??” His voice cracked in annoyance and his hand raised, index finger extended and headed dangerously close to jabbing Eddie in the chest. “I’ll have you know people come to my shop because of the vibe, it makes people feel safe, you arrogant son of a–.”
“Oookay!” Robin’s petite hands landed against his chest, pushing him back a few steps as she laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he must be getting close to needing to renew his rabies shot or something. We appreciate you guys lowering the volume and we’ll talk to our clients too. Thanks, Eddie.” She gave the other man a smile over her shoulder as she walked Steve toward the shop door.
“See you around, Robin.” Eddie called in a sing-song voice before giving Steve a smug smile and wiggling his ringed fingers at him. “You too, Stevie.”
His retort was cut off by Eddie swinging their door shut and Robin shoving him through the door of the shop.
“Okay, what the hell, Steve?” Robin sighed, her hands finally falling from his chest to rest on her own hips.
“That dude’s a total dick.” He grumbled, his arms crossing over his chest defensively. “Sure our shop is a little quiet, but it’s a good vibe! People like the vibe!”
“Dick or not, we have to share the space with him, you can’t start off on a bad foot and ruin the whole atmosphere in the building. Nancy will kill you. And then I won’t have a chance with her. And then I’ll kill you.”
“I know, I know , I’m sorry. I just…” He heaved out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair a few times as he began to pace. “He just pushes my buttons, I’m not even sure why. He’s just…annoying. It won’t happen again.”
“Good. That’s all I ask.” Robin gave him a smile and stepped in front of him to stop his pacing, her hands lifting to his hair. “Here, you fucked this all up. Let me fix it before our first appointments.” He lowered his head so she could reach, the warmth in his chest that always settled there when Robin did something like that, when she took care of him, helped to melt most of his annoyance away.
Outside the door, he could hear the music at a much less ear-splitting volume and he sighed. Maybe it wasn’t going to be so bad having them across the hall as long as Eddie stuck to his side of the deal, and Steve didn’t have to see or interact with him again.
“See?” Robin piped up as she finished. “It’s not so bad now, it’s just like someone playing a stereo in a different room. We can even use it as shop music on the days they practice! Save some money on the electric bill from not running our stereo.” Steve snorted a laugh.
“Alright, Miss Silver Lining, let’s just get set up for the day.” Robin rolled her eyes, but went to set up her piercing station without any argument. Steve swiped his coffee off the counter and downed half of it in a long drink, ignoring the way it burnt his throat.
It was already gearing up to be a long day, he sure as hell wasn’t going to delay being properly caffeinated.
After the altercation with Eddie in the morning, the rest of the day seemed to skate by pretty uneventfully. Steve got to start on a sleeve that he had been itching to tattoo for months, the customer sat like a rock so he got much further into it on the first session than he’d planned. He’d also gotten three other pieces done that day while Robin had seven piercings.
It wasn’t until they went to leave for the day that he was really reminded of how his day had started.
The Edible Arrangement had been sitting outside the door of the shop with a note and a small plastic baggy taped to the side. It had stopped him in his tracks abruptly enough for Robin to crash into his back with a squawked “hey” as she almost dropped her phone before looking over his shoulder.
“What’s that?”
“Fruit.” He grumbled and leaned down to pick it up. The card had ‘Steve’ scrawled on the front and he plucked it off to open it one handed.
You’d be shocked at how hard it is to find an actual olive branch in Indiana. This is going to have to do instead.
Blueberries are supposed to help lower stress, so I figured that couldn’t hurt either. Make sure you’re nice and share this with Robin.
-E. M.
P.S., I added a bonus in case the blueberries don’t work.
He scoffed and glanced down at the baggy. Inside, there were two pieces of molded, orange silicone.
Ear plugs.
“Are those…” Robin questioned, a laugh evident in her voice.
“Yes.” He sighed, ripping the baggy from the base and shoving it in his pocket. “You think Nancy would keep our security deposit if I killed him in the shop?”
“Depends on how well you clean it up, I would think.” Robin hummed thoughtfully, reaching around him to pluck a piece of pineapple off of one of the skewers to pop it in her mouth. “I’ve seen you mop, though, so…probably.”
“I hope he poisoned that fruit.” He huffed, stalking into the hallway. Robin laughed as she locked up behind him.
“You’d miss me. Who else would you talk shit with? And who else would be going home with you for movies and pizza tonight if I died?”
He was annoyed at how right she was.
“Well.”
“That’s what I thought. Now, let’s go, we’ve got Sal’s and a Marvel marathon waiting for us, Dingus.”
So.
Here’s the thing.
It may have been said, a time or two, that Steve Harrington could, possibly, be known to hold a grudge.
It was a fact of life, really.
Fire is hot.
Water is wet.
Steve Harrington can be a petty bitch.
As it turned out, Eddie renting the space across from them hadn’t turned out to be all that much of a pain in the ass for his clients. They even, much to his annoyance, seemed to enjoy the music.
Then there was Robin. She seemed to actually be getting along with their new neighbors. He’d come in more than once during the two months since Eddie had started renting with her in step beside him only for Eddie to hang his body halfway out the door with a white paper bag covered in small grease stains that he wiggled toward her until she squealed with glee and took the bag.
“Pastries for the lovely Miss Buckley.” He’d always say with a smug smile as Steve would, inevitably, roll his eyes. Robin would plant a loud kiss on Eddie's cheek, call him her “hero” and then they would all go about their day. They’d even taken to hanging out together every now and then.
He hated it, but she was a grown woman, who was he to tell her what to do?
The real thing that broke him and made him want to grind his teeth until they turned to dust in his jaw was the morning that Robin beat him into the shop. He and Robin had walked to work together almost every day since they’d opened the shop, but she’d texted him the night before and said she had an early appointment.
Apparently the early appointment had been Eddie.
Eddie who was sprawled out on the piercing bed like he owned the place, with his tattered jeans slung low on his hips. The hips that were spattered with ink blot tattoos in a dark shade of maroon that stretched up over his sides like scars.
Which Steve could see because the man was completely bare from the waist up.
“The fuck?” He blurted out before he could stop himself. He stood in the doorway with a coffee cup in one hand and his keys in the other with his feet practically glued to the floor.
“Hey, babe!” Robin called, her voice just as cheery as always. She waved a gloved hand at him and he noted the hollow needle pinched between her thumb and index finger.
“Hi?” He responded, his brow furrowed, until he caught sight of her other hand that was holding a clamp on…Jesus fuck, on Eddie’s nipple . The man in question raised one hand to mimic Robin’s wave.
“Harrington.” Even his voice was dripping with the smirk plastered on his face.
“Munson.” Steve gave him a curt nod before turning toward his station and setting down his coffee. “You two are at it early.” He mumbled, only half expecting either of them to hear him.
“Got practice early today, so I asked our dear Robin if she could squeeze me in beforehand, and she did, like the angel she is.” Eddie batted his eyelashes at Robin as she snorted a laugh despite the blush on her cheeks.
“Alright, you ready for this, Eds?” She questioned.
Steve made sure his back was to them both as he mouthed “Eds?” to himself, his nose wrinkled in disgust.
“Ready to rock and roll.”
“I’ll count it down. Three, two, one, deep breath in,” He turned as he heard Eddie inhale and immediately regretted it when he watched the hollow needle slide through the tender, taught flesh of Eddie’s nipple. The man shuddered, his eyes scrunched in pain. “Good, now a little bit of a speed bump for the jewelry,” He winced again as the barbell slid through. “And we’re done!”
“That wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Robin smiled at Eddie’s comment as she tightened the little steel ball onto one end of the barbell.
“I’m glad. I have a sheet of aftercare for you, and if this heals up alright, you can come back in a few months and we can do the other one if you want. Biggest thing is make sure you’re keeping it clean and flushing it with saline throughout the day until it has healed up some more.” She handed over a bottle of saline from the stack of them behind her at her station.
“You’re a peach, Robin.” Eddie hopped up easily and swiped his shirt off of the chair by the door, but he didn’t bother putting it on, choosing instead to drape it over his shoulder. “Are we still on for that ramen place tomorrow night? I’ve got us a table.”
“I wouldn’t miss it! Steve, you should come too! You love ramen!” Robin gave him that look that always made him cave to whatever she was asking, but Steve barely noticed. He was busy staring at the metal shining at him from the small bud of Eddie’s nipple. The skin was red and angry, but despite that, it looked great. Enticing. “Steve?” Robin’s voice drew him from his trance and he shook his head subtly.
“Uh, yeah, sure. Ramen. Sounds good. Just let me know when.” He bobbed his head in an aborted nod, the motion only freezing when he realized that he’d just agreed to dinner with both of them. Robin and Eddie.
“It’s a date, big boy.” Eddie smirked, his hand thumping against Steve’s chest as he passed by to get to the door. “See you two tomorrow.” He hit them both with finger guns and then he was gone in a flash of bare skin and curls.
“If you keep staring that hard, you’re gonna burn a hole through the wall.” Robin said in a sing-song voice as she started to clean up her station. She swung the alcohol spray bottle around on her finger a few times before shooting a few streams at the table with a small “pew, pew” sound.
“I’m not staring .” He hissed, practically ripping his arms out of his coat and tossing it toward the coat rack. “And was his nipple piercing really that important he had to do it before his practice?” He knew he sounded bitter. He didn’t really care.
“They have a show tonight. He said that he wanted to wear his new mesh shirt and he thought that the piercing would look cool with the mesh.” She shrugged, looking like that was the most reasonable answer she could’ve given him.
“He’s fucking weird.” Steve sighed as he flopped down into his chair. “And you totally conned me into ramen tomorrow.”
“Uh,” Robin raised a brow, chucking her gloves into the biohazard trash can before settling her hands on her hips. “I conned you into it by asking you to go? I’m gonna need more on that, babe.”
“You asked me with him standing right there! What was I supposed to say? No? I’d look like an asshole.”
“Hate to break this to you, but you kind of are an asshole, it’s one of my favorite traits about you.” She chuckled while she crossed to perch on the edge of his tattoo bed. “Soooo.” She swung her feet innocently, her tattered red Converses almost hitting him in the chest.
“Oh, god, here we go.” He groaned. “What?”
“I dunno, you were eyeing Eddie pretty hard, you know…”
“I was watching you work.”
“You were still staring once he got off the bed.”
“I was…admiring your work.” She raised a brow.
“Mhm.”
“I’m not having a big gay crisis, for the last time, Robs.” He grumbled, his eyes locked on his cart that he’d opened to inventory just for something to do with his hands. “I don’t know why you’re so stuck on that.”
“Oh, I dunno, Steve. Maybe it’s because I have two functional eyes.” She prodded at his chest with her shoe. “Unlike some of us.”
“Hey, my contacts work just fine, thank you.” It was mostly true. He probably needed a new prescription, if he was being honest. Years of ignoring that he needed glasses had done some damage, and spending his days squinting at tiny lines that he was pulling wasn’t exactly doing him any favors.
“Oh, is that so?” She gave him a sarcastic smile and extended both of her middle fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Cute. Real cute.” He swatted at her hip to get her off the bed. “Up, I gotta get ready for my first appointment and you’re dirtying my station.”
“You should come out with me tonight.” Robin said, shooting for casual as she hopped off the bed, rocking on her heels.
“‘Out’ wouldn’t happen to be a certain concert, would it?” He grumbled, pulling on a nitrile glove and grabbing the alcohol spray.
“Well.” She drew the word into far more syllables than it needed and fidgeted with her septum ring.
“That’s what I thought. Why do you want me to come watch one of these shows so badly?” Robin had been prodding at him to come watch Eddie and his band play since the altercation in the hallway.
“I don’t know, I just…” She threw her hands up. “He’s a really cool guy, Steve, and I think that you two could be good friends. You just gotta give him a chance. Just come tonight, please? For me?” He felt his resolve slipping when she clasped her hands and dropped to her knees. “ Please .”
“You’re dramatic. Fine. I’ll go. But if they suck, I’m gonna tell them that they suck and you don’t get to get mad at me for it.” Robin’s fists shot up over her head triumphantly.
“Yes! You won’t regret this, I swear! Now, help me up, dingus. You know I have bad knees.”
Steve already regretted saying yes as he helped her to her feet.
The day turned out to be the worst he’d had in as long as he could remember.
He had two no-show appointments that he couldn’t fill that last minute.
The third appointment of the day was an eighteen year old kid that almost passed out twenty minutes into the appointment. Steve had to catch the kid before he slid off of the side of the bed. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but it had been the first time that he’d pulled a muscle doing it.
The icing on top of the cake had been when he’d been getting ready to go out for the damned concert and he’d rubbed his eye only for his contact to rip.
His last pair.
He’d been meaning to order more, but he hadn’t written it down. So, instead of his contacts, he had to throw on his glasses. He hated them and he hated that he’d let Robin talk him into the thick black frames. He’d wanted to go with something a bit more subtle, but she said they fit his face.
He didn’t look terrible, he supposed.
He’d gone with his most comfortable pair of jeans, a gray pair with holes worn in both knees and a threadbare spot on the back pocket, and a black, cashmere sweater that had been a Christmas gift from Joyce and Hopper on one of his last Christmases back in Hawkins before they’d hightailed it to Indianapolis. Was it the best outfit for a metal show? Maybe not, but knowing that fact might annoy Eddie even the tiniest bit made it absolutely worth it.
Deciding for one last little piece of defiance he’d shrugged on his black peacoat and headed out into the cold to catch his Uber to the venue that Robin had texted him.
The club had been….different. It wasn’t the bright lights, writhing bodies, and pounding bass that he was used to from his clubbing days. Instead, it was dark with bench seats lining two of the walls with tables in front of them yet somehow felt warm despite the lack of lighting. It had taken him three tries to find the coat check.
The bar was seemingly the only place in the club with substantial lighting, and even those were just from a string of Edison bulbs along the solid wood framing above it. When he finally managed to shoulder his way through the tightly packed crowd, he ordered himself a beer and tried to see if he could catch sight of Robin.
Two circuits of the room later he finally found her with her arm thrown over Nancy’s shoulders with a drink in her free hand. She was talking to a couple guys he didn’t recognize, her face looking wildly animated as she told some story he was sure he’d heard a hundred times.
“There you are!” She stopped her story mid-sentence when she caught sight of him. “Nance, Steve’s here!” Steve winced at the volume of her voice. Nancy, on the other hand, gave her an affectionate smile.
“I see that. Hi, Steve.”
“Hey, Nance. Someone is having a good time, huh?” He gestured at Robin with his glass. “How many has she had?”
“Two, believe it or not. She did say she didn’t eat dinner before coming.” Nancy replied with a chuckle. “We’ve been hydrating for a bit.” She lifted a cup of water in her hand and Robin took a slightly clumsy pull off of the straw.
“She’s always been a lightweight, I’m not surprised.” He shook his head slightly, grin still firmly in place. Robin’s newfound friends seemed to have gotten bored of her ignoring them and disappeared back into the crowd, but Robin seemed unruffled when she turned back to find them gone. She just shrugged and turned back to Steve.
“You look nice.” She observed with a lopsided smile. “Not really the crowd for the cashmere, though, you know…” Her pierced eyebrow raised slowly, and he felt his face heat up. He knew that she was seconds away from calling him on the pettiness, Robin was perceptive when it came to him even when tipsy. “Which I’m guessing is the actual reason you’re wearing it, isn’t it?”
“No! I…like this sweater. Joyce and Hop gave it to me.” Deny, deny, deny, that was always the motto when spies were captured, right? He really should’ve paid more attention to Hopper’s Russian spy movies.
“Mhm.” She tapped the index finger of the hand still clutching her cup against his nose, nearly cracking him in the mouth with the rim. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you like to annoy Eddie, right?”
“Wait, what? You and Eddie don’t get along?” Nancy interjected, saving him from having to endure Robin’s line of questioning. “Why? I figured you two would get along great!”
“He’s….” Steve fumbled for the words that he wanted to use with the woman that, technically, had the power to kick him out of his shop if she wanted to if she had fears about him causing havoc in her building. “A lot.”
Nancy was just about to respond, her brow furrowed, when the man in question, mercifully, appeared on the stage at the front of the room.
“How the fuck is everyone doing out there?” Eddie’s voice echoed off of the walls in the club and Steve was briefly startled by the roar of yells in response. “That’s what we like to hear! Our regulars know this, but for all of our new blood out there, we are Corroded Coffin!”
That was all of the preamble before they were launching into their first song with a four count from Eddie. The music was aggressive and fast, and Steve kind of hated to admit that he actually didn’t mind it. It wasn’t something that he would listen to on a regular basis, but they knew what they were doing. That wasn’t what really caught his attention, though.
Eddie looked so….different.
Every time that Steve had run into him in the hall or he’d poked his head out to greet Robin, the man had been wearing jeans with so many holes that they could barely be called pants and band t-shirts that were so faded he’d have to squint to actually see the lettering.
On stage, however, he was a completely different vision.
He wore the mesh shirt that Robin had mentioned, the barbell through his nipple shining in the spotlights that illuminated the stage, and a pair of leather pants that Steve was positive he’d had to use some sort of lubricant to get into with how tight they were. The normal assortment of chains hung from the belt loops, and the shining rings that he always wore glittered as his fingers flew over the strings.
Steve swallowed hard and gritted his teeth. He just needed to get through the set, then he could fake a totally plausible headache, go home, strip down to his boxers, and eat ice cream out of the carton while watching shitty reality television. Then Robin couldn’t give him a hard time about never coming out with them.
The plan was working, he was halfway through his third beer, and he was positive the set had to be ending soon. It had to.
“He looks good, right?” Robin’s voice was practically a whisper against his ear, just loud enough that he could hear her, but he still looked around nervously to see if anyone else had heard it.
“He looks different, that’s all.” She grinned at him when she pulled away with a soft “mhm”, her hand patting his shoulder placatingly. He regretted going to get the second and third beers as an excuse to walk away from the stage, he felt too hot, his skin too tight, under her scrutinizing gaze. “Shut up.”
He didn’t look that good. Robin was just being a little shit and trying to rile him up.
He didn’t look that good.
He didn’t look that good.
He didn’t look that good.
He definitely didn’t stare at the deep red of the guitar pick that hung on the necklace that Eddie always wore where it was settled into the dip between his collar bones, sweat beaded around it from the stage lights.
He was deeply engrossed in not staring at him when the final chord rang out and Eddie was breathing heavily as he said goodnight.
“We’re Corroded Coffin, thank you for coming out to see us! Get home safe, tip the bar staff, all that shit. Goodnight!” Robin let out a wolf whistle to his right as Eddie hopped down the stairs to get off the stage, his guitar slung over his back.
Steve wasn’t sure what passed for a “green room” in a place like that, but he didn’t expect it would be long before Eddie was joining their group, so he had to take his opportunity to bail. He drained the rest of his beer and leaned toward Robin to talk loudly enough she could hear him over the music that had started back up over the speakers, one hand splayed on her back comfortably.
“I’ve got a hell of a headache starting, I think I’m gonna call it a night.”
“You sure?” She questioned, her expression more sober than he’d seen it the entire evening. Her free hand was on his forehead and then his cheek, affectionate and caring in a way that always made his chest tighten. He nodded slightly.
“Yeah, just gonna go take a leak, and then head home and get into bed. I’ll see you tomorrow at work?” She nodded and leaned up on her toes to plant a soft kiss to his cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home or I’ll kick your ass.” She pointed at him accusingly. “You never remember to text me.”
“I will . I promise.” Robin eyed him a moment before she seemed to accept that and nodded. Over her shoulder Nancy appeared with a smile. Steve pretended not to see her hand resting on Robin’s waist. “Have a good night, Nance. Make sure she gets home safe for me, yeah?”
Nancy blushed but gave him a sure nod.
“Of course. Goodnight, Steve. I’m glad you came out with us.”
He definitely filed the “with us” away to grill Robin about later, but decided to give her a pass for the time being. He turned on his heel and headed toward the bathroom, he hadn’t been lying, he really did have to pee before he caught an Uber home.
The door to the bathroom was heavy and wooden, it reminded him of the cabin that his parents had carted him off to for Christmas break when he was a kid. He shouldered it open and exhaled a sigh of relief when he found it blissfully empty. It was clean, as far as club bathrooms went, and he headed to the furthest urinal from the door.
He was almost finished when he heard the door open behind him. He mentally sighed. He hated public bathrooms.
“You know, a neon sign saying you don’t come to shows like this would’ve been less obvious than cashmere .”
Of course.
His luck seemed to have a sense of humor.
“Well,” He paused, tucking himself away and zipping up his jeans. “Gotta make sure that everyone knows this isn’t my crowd and I was coerced here against my will.” The flushing of the urinal was loud, echoing off of the walls.
“Unwilling or not, appreciate the support, Harrington.” Eddie’s grin was smug as he leaned back against the edge of the sink, arms crossed over his chest.
“Yeah, well. You guys aren’t awful when you’re not polluting my shop’s airspace.” He cursed the beer for loosening his tongue enough to let the compliment slip.
“Be still my heart,” Eddie clasped both hands over his heart dramatically. “A compliment from the great Steve Harrington. Miracles really do happen.”
“Don’t get used to it.” He grumbled, stepping around Eddie to get to the other sink to wash his hands. He scrubbed at the skin under the steaming water until his skin was tinged pink before he swiped a few of the paper towels from the dispenser. “Anway. Don’t do anything too stupid, I don’t want to have to come bail my piercer and our landlord out of jail tomorrow.”
“You’re not staying?” Eddie’s brow was furrowed in a pinch.
“No, believe it or not, I developed a headache for some reason. Can’t think of why that may have happened. Must’ve been the music choice.” He gave his own smug smile at Eddie’s noise of protest. “Have a good night, Munson.” He reached a hand out to pat Eddie’s chest, aiming for the new piercing that had been buzzing around his mind for the entire afternoon. He froze when Eddie’s hand wrapped around his wrist, holding it in place.
“C’mon now. You can’t hate my band that much, Princess. Why not stick around? Maybe if you ask real nice, I’ll even take you back home with me.” The laugh was enough to let him know that Eddie was kidding, but something in Steve’s chest tightened like there was a belt around it.
The laugh blew a stream of warm, minty breath into his face from the blue, unmistakably peppermint gum that he realized was clenched between Eddie’s teeth, and it may as well have been a direct injection of ice into his veins.
“I-I’m not gay.” He stammered, a cold sweat breaking out across his skin and beading on his upper lip as the edges of his vision began to get a bit blurry.
“What’s gay about a roll in the hay between friends? I know, I know, you’re gonna say we aren’t friends, but tomato, to-mah-to.”
“Let go.” His voice was small to his own ears, it made him sick. His stomach was lurching. He willed it into submission the best that he could, cursing himself mentally and vowing he was not going to puke on Eddie’s stupid combat boots.
Eddie dropped his wrist immediately as if he’d be burned, his brown eyes wide with what looked like fear.
“Shit, Steve, I’m just fucking with you…I didn’t….I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Eddie, to his credit, looked shocked and genuinely apologetic, but Steve was too far over the line to be able to form a coherent enough thought to explain.
All he could hear in his head was the voices in the locker room in his high school.
Billy Hargrove and Tommy Hagan cornering him in the shower after practice.
Hargrove and his big fucking mouth asking him if his dad knew he was “one of those queers”, and telling him he was sure that Steve looked “real cute on his knees for some guy that bought him a fancy dinner”. Billy had sneered as he told Steve that was the word on the town.
The smell of cheap cigarettes and chewing gum, bright blue and unmistakably peppermint, on his breath as he’d boxed Steve in against the wall. The sound of Hagan’s fist connecting with his own face and the gurgle of blood as it filled his mouth before dripping onto the soap scum covered tiles of the shower stall.
“Steve, c’mon, you gotta breathe with me, okay? Sit down, here, let me help you.” His arms felt numb as Eddie helped him to slide down the wall and bend his knees toward his chest. “Alright, head between the knees, you know the drill, it’s always in all those shitty movies. Head between the knees and take some deep breaths, that’s it.”
He could feel himself hyperventilating, and it took a long moment before he forced his breathing into a more regular rhythm like the one that Eddie was demonstrating. And wasn’t that just the fucking worst, huh? He was having a panic attack in front of Eddie Munson, on the floor of a club bathroom. How embarrassing.
“That’s better, nice job.” Those two words had him closing his eyes and letting out a shaky sigh. Eddie’s hand was a warm, heavy weight on his neck, grounding him in a way he didn’t care to think about. “Think you can tell me what that was about, huh? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I swear.”
“Just…drop it. You’re fine. I know it wasn’t on purpose. You’re an asshole, but you’re not cruel.” He ground out, his hands shaking as they planted on the floor on either side of him so he could shove himself into a shaky standing position. “Thanks for, uh, that . I’m gonna…go.”
He was pushing past Eddie and out the door with the echo of “Steve, wait!” behind him. He didn’t slow down as he heard Eddie trying to weave through the crowd behind him, calling his name, and he didn’t even stop at the coat check.
He’d have to come back for it in the morning.
Maybe.
The air outside was frigid enough that it shocked a deep gasping breath out of him, the exhale curling out into the night air like he was exorcising a demon. It briefly registered in his mind that he had thought to call an Uber and he fished his phone from his pocket, pulling up the app with shaking fingers, praying that the driver was close. He didn’t know if he could outrun Eddie without eating shit on the sidewalk, and he knew the man had to be hot on his heels.
He could’ve cried when he saw the car icon pulling up in front of him.
Steve slid into the back seat of the black sedan just as Eddie burst through the door of the club, that horrible mesh shirt looking completely out of place in the winter evening.
He didn’t look up to watch the look on the other man’s face as the car pulled away from the curb. He couldn’t, he’d seen how earnest Eddie had looked when he’d talked him through his panic attack. There was no guarantee that Steve wasn’t going to trauma dump all of his shit on the poor guy if he saw his face.
He was sure it was something pathetic anyway.
Thankfully, the driver seemed to pick up on the fact that he didn’t want to talk and the ride was silent all the way to his apartment. He thanked the man when they’d arrived safely and made sure to leave him a large tip as an apology for the quiet, shaky crying he did in the back seat. The guy was nice enough not to mention it.
He had five missed calls from Robin, two from Nancy, and six from an unknown number when he landed face down on his bed, not bothering to strip out of his clothes. He didn’t plug the phone in, dropping it somewhere vaguely in the direction of his nightstand instead.
That was a problem for Tomorrow Steve.