Chapter Text
"Does this blue make any sense?"
Steve looks up from his phone to the window in their living room. An easel stands tall in the sunlight. A canvas decorated with messy sketches and random slashes of paint lays on it. As he squints, he can parse out the figure of the popular Aphrodite statue. A light, cool blue floats beneath it, supporting the pink wash of the goddess.
"Mix some purple in with the dark blue and it will."
She hums, tapping her brush against her mouth before completely ignoring his advice. Virgin dark blue is spread across the underside. He snorts and goes back to his laptop. Wanderlust sits open to the 'edit profile' page. It took two weeks, but he's finally brought himself to sit down and put it together.
The basics were easy, filled in on the way home from the club that night. His profile picture is Mae from Night in the Woods as a placeholder until he finds a semi-decent picture of himself. Bisexual, 23, he/him, exploring and brat — at Robin's insistence — and that he's looking for friends and events. He didn't mark that he's single, but did notice on Robin's page that she listed herself 'under consideration of Morticia_1996'. After some private teasing about an eight year age gap, he finally asked what that means. Apparently, they're testing things out between them. A fancy way of saying 'talking stage', in Steve's opinion, but he can understand there's a bit more to it in this context.
What he's been stuck on is his bio. Robin's is… extensive, to say the least. She's a chatterbox, so Steve isn't surprised. But he wants his to be a little more concise; he's not sure what to put, though. What's too much? What's too little? What does he want people to know at first glance and what does he want to keep to himself?
"I can hear the rusted gears in your brain from here."
"Bite me," he quips without thought. "I can't decide what I want to put in this stupid bio."
A glob of paint splats on the tarp under Robin, narrowly missing the carpet. She bends over and scoops it back up on her brush as she sighs.
"You're over-complicating it—"
"Am not!"
"Totally are. Just think of it like a dating profile. Put some hobbies, interests, like three adjectives to describe yourself. Don't put your social security number and you'll be fine."
"You're so unhelpful," Steve grumbles.
For now, he settles on a condensed version of Robin's page.
I'm a masochist with a sweet tooth. My love can be bought in chocolate ice cream and sour gummy worms. I'm currently exploring what I like and learning as much as I can.
Definitely a little shorter than he wants, but it'll suffice for now. All that's left to finish things off is to peruse the "fetish" page. It lists so many kinks his head starts to spin, each with a drop down to indicate if he's into it, curious about it, or if it's a limit. Once they're added to his profile, he can clarify further if he wants to bottom, top, wear, see someone wear, or all of the above.
He starts with what he knows. After twenty minutes of scrolling, he has a decent list going of "into" and "curious." Some highlights of into include: floggers, power exchange, calling people Daddy, affectionate cruelty, and others wearing rings. He chooses not to think too hard about that last one as he reviews his curious kinks. Public play, wearing a collar and leash, and feminization.
That one is complicated, and he went back and forth with himself about adding it. He's very secure in his identity as a man, so secure it's kind of come full circle to wanting to feel pretty again. Something about being called feminine nicknames makes him flush and smile. But, it's not something he loves to toy with unless he really knows a person. Robin got a kick out of Steve's exploration of how he presents himself, lovingly teasing him for transitioning just to become a femboy.
"Alright, I think I'm done." He reads the bio out loud to Robin and watches her bob her head. "Is it dumb?"
"Not at all. It's short, sure, but it does what it needs to: gives people a starting point."
Her lip is caught between her teeth as her hand pauses over the canvas. After a moment, it touches down and she says, "I have a proposal."
"I still have eight years until I have to marry you."
"No, dingus. It's a dynamic called 'protecting' and 'under protection.'"
"Sounds like something out of a cheesy mafia novel."
"Not quite. Y'know how we have an arrangement? I sit in on negotiations and scenes if you want me to or I think it's needed. I point out people and tell you what I know. You come get me if something happens, no matter what I'm doing."
"Yeah?"
"That's a name for what we have. It's when someone more experienced kinda takes a newbie or partner under their wing, but not inherently for teaching or mentoring. It basically tells people 'this person has eyes on them, someone's expecting them back unharmed.' It can be a deterrent for assholes who like to prey on unexperienced people."
"And we can put it on our profiles, I'm guessing."
"Exactly, just makes things more official." The first layer of paint is down and she sets aside her brush to turn towards Steve. "I talked with Alyssa yesterday during coffee. If you're comfortable with it, she'd also be happy to do the same.
Steve turns the idea in his mind. They've been texting in the last couple weeks, mostly in the groupchat. She's definitely experienced, seems well-established. He feels plenty safe around her and she hasn't given him a reason to believe otherwise. She can fill the gaps in Robin's knowledge of people.
"Yeah, alright. We need to plan a hang out with her, anyway."
"Do you want me to see if she's free today?"
"Do we have anything else going on?"
Some scrolling through their shared calendar, and Robin shakes her head. "I'll message her and we can go to The Balcony."
"Sounds good to me. I'm gonna turn off my brain for a bit, just wave if you need me."
With that, Steve grabs his noise cancelling headphones and puts on a YouTube video. He pulls his brown leather boots and Robin's Doc Martins into his lap and loses himself in the meditative cleaning.
The Balcony isn't busy when Steve opens the door. A few teenagers take up a table, cheersing coffees now that they've conquered midterms. Some college students still have their heads in their hands as they study for their last exams. A couple businessmen stand at the pick-up counter chatting. Robin taps his arm and points to a table in the corner, where Alyssa basks in the spring sun with three cups and two muffins in front of her.
They make their way over and she stands to offer hugs. She smells expensive with a hint of pomegranate.
"I hope you don't mind that I ordered for you, Steve. Robin told me your favorite drinks and snacks, down to specific instructions to never get you soda."
He gives Robin a weird look and she shrugs. "You never know when it'll come in handy."
"Fair. I appreciate it, Alyssa. Thank you."
Once they've all claimed their seats, Alyssa across from them in the booth, Steve finally takes a sip of the iced mocha. Peppermint bursts over his tongue and he swears he could marry this woman. The blueberry muffin is already halfway down Robin's throat and he nearly snorts the drink out of his nose.
"So," Alyssa starts as she eyes Robin, "what questions do you have for me, Steve?"
Straight to the point, then. He can work with that.
"Are you a murderer?"
"Steve," Robin hisses, smacking his arm.
"No, I'm not. Though, I'm not sure someone would answer that question honestly if asked."
"Good point," he concedes. "Are you lying about not being a murderer?"
"I'm about to become a murderer."
Robin's groaning goes ignored as Alyssa laughs. "No, I'm not."
"Do you have a secret family in South Carolina?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"What about California?"
"Nope." She doesn't bother to hide her amusement as she takes a sip of her steaming coffee. "No criminal record, no children, no divorce, and no secret wives."
He narrows his eyes playfully before nodding. "Hm, okay. What do you do for work?"
"I'm a piercer. Have been for about nine years now. I work in the shop on 10th, Dusty Rose." As she talks, she opens her phone and clicks around a little before turning it towards him. It's open to an Instagram page. "This is some of my work."
A wide array of jewelry fills the page. Septums, tongues, eyebrows, ears. One of the pinned posts is of Eddie, bleeding tongue stuck out with wet eyelashes and fingers pushed through his hair like devil horns. Another is of her own stomach with a curved metal bell through her belly button. He can see hints of a tattoo creeping up over her stretchmarks.
"What got you into piercing?" he asks as he hands the phone back.
"Helping people feel more like themselves. Sometimes it's a confidence boost, sometimes it's gender affirming care, sometimes it's to commemorate an achievement, and sometimes it's just because it looks cool."
A hand starts creeping towards his cinnamon coffee muffin and he swats it, rolling his eyes when Robin whines. Still, he pulls it apart and leaves half on her plate. In exchange, she slides her iced chai over and he takes a few sips.
"What about you? What brought you to work at the bookstore?"
He slides the chai back over as he shrugs. "Robin wanted to work there and I get to sit for most of my shift on the slow days."
"Do you like to read?"
"Oh yeah, he's a total nerd," Robin says after a mouthful of his mocha.
"Rude. But yeah, I do. Mostly manga and fantasy, adult or YA depending on my mood."
"And those porn books you try to hide behind the counter."
"Says the woman who shamelessly read a lesbian erotica in front of customers."
"Hell yeah, that's why I get the discreet covers."
The rest of their time at the table continues the same. He learns that Alyssa went to art school for illustration, had a short tattoo career before switching to piercing. She loves road trips and scary movies and fashion. Her two adorable black cats are named Wednesday and Pugsley, in honor of her favorite classic The Addams Family. Apparently, the original series is the best out of all the renditions and she doesn't care for the new series focused on the daughter. Family is important to her, and she specifies that her family is Eddie and his family. They've known each other since high school when they were social outcasts together.
As their cups run dry and Steve sacrifices the last bite of his muffin to Robin, the conversation drifts back to him.
"I've heard it from Robin, but I'd like to hear your side of how you two met."
"It's a pretty short story, honestly. We worked together at an ice cream store in the mall of our hometown. She hated me at first, but I won her over with the old Harrington charm. And from there, we were inseparable."
Robin's leg presses into his under the table.
"Do you two always work together?"
"Yep." He counts on his fingers as he runs through the list. "We had the ice cream shop, then we were lifeguards. We worked as radio hosts for like six months. Camp counselors for school breaks, then we braved the retail world together. Now, we work at the Nest."
"What brought you to Indy?"
His stomach clenches and he hopes it doesn't show on his face. "Small towns are stuffy."
Thankfully, she doesn't press. "I hear that. Well, I was going to stop by Hellfire Records. Would you like to join me?"
"We'd love to!" The overt enthusiasm in Robin's voice is foreboding, but she stubbornly avoids Steve's suspicious gaze. Something about the name feels familiar, but he can't put his finger on it.
"Uh, yeah, sure."
"Amazing! I'm going to grab a drink, why don't you lovelies wait outside for me. It's only a few blocks away, so we'll walk."
Robin chews at her blunt nails as they make their way outside. The teenagers are gone, but the college students still toil away at their books and laptops. Those nails are going to start bleeding if she chews any more. Steve reaches out to take her hand as they lean against the building.
"Official stamp of approval granted."
Her shoulders finally relax and she gives him a blinding smile. "Really?"
"Yeah, she seems stable. Not hiding bodies in her floorboards, steady job that's cool as fuck, two cats that I would burn down the world for just from a picture." He squeezes her hand. "What's not to love?"
"That's good, 'cause I was thinking of asking her to be my girlfriend."
"No shit? That's awesome, Rob!"
Red paints her cheeks as she nods. "I wanted you to get know her a little more first. I'm thinking of taking her out to sushi next week and asking her there."
"Bougie, you sure know how to treat a lady."
"What can I say? I'm a lady-killer." She flips her hair with an exaggerated purse of her lips and he laughs.
The door opens beside them and Alyssa steps out with two to-go cups nestled in a carrier in hand.
"Are we ready?"
They start down the street, Robin and Steve following Alyssa's lead. Robin fills the quiet with details of her latest painting. A rendition of The Birth of Venus with some scene changes. It's the next installment of her interpretations of various Greek and Roman divinity paintings. Steve's helped with some of them, posing this way and that in different lighting for a 3D reference.
The conversation winds down as they come up on a short building. "Hellfire Records" is scrawled over the windows, painted on in sharp font. A bell chimes as the door swings open and they make their way inside. It's eclectic to be sure, posters and tapestries and art work scattered over the walls. Busy without looking cluttered. Lines of short wooden shelves extend in front of them, each packed full of different style of media. Some vinyls and CDs look old, cassettes even older. Others are new releases with displays on the ends of the shelves.
A big black dog comes trotting around the corner and plops down in front of Alyssa with a panting grin. It's tail slaps the ground hard enough Steve worries it might hurt.
"Hello, Cortana. How's my sweet girl doing?" Alyssa holds the drink carrier out of reach as she reaches down to scratch the dog behind the ears.
After she receives the mandatory scritches, she starts investigating the newcomers. Robin's first with vigorous sniffing and circling until she's deemed acceptable. Then, Cortana comes over to Steve and does the same. It's a little more invasive, getting up close and personal with his jeans and brown leather boots. Then, she sits in front of Steve and looks up at him with bright blue eyes.
A clatter near the counter catches her attention and her floppy ears perk up.
"Cortana, come. Leave the poor customers alone."
No fucking way. Steve whips his head to glare at Robin, but all he gets is a cheeky grin and pat on the shoulder. She's gonna suffocate under a pillow tonight.
Cortana trots off as Eddie pops out of a backroom behind the counter, distressed band zip-up hanging off one shoulder. With a tanktop underneath, Steve can see those tattoos peaking out on his shoulder. He stops with a lopsided smile when he sees the customers.
"Well, well, well. Are you stalking me, Stevie?"
Robin snickers and Steve mutters, "I hate you so much."
Alyssa walks up to the counter with the cup extended. "Blame me, I decided to bring them along to drop this off."
"Oh, I could marry you." Eddie wraps the coffee in his big, ringed hands and takes a slow sip. "It's perfect. You're perfect."
"I know."
"Well," he spreads his arms to the shop. "Welcome to Hellfire Records. We carry vinyls, CDs, cassettes. Vintage and new releases with occasional collectors. There's some knick-knacks and keychains and stuff, too. Feel free to peruse."
Steve takes the opportunity to disappear down the aisles while Alyssa takes up Eddie's attention with conversation. As he wanders over to the pop section, the sound of panting trails after him. He glances down and see Cortana reaching his side. He offers his hand for her to sniff, but she skips past it and bumps her forehead into it.
"Aw," he murmurs, "you're pretty sweet, huh?" She leans into his hand as he rubs her head, snuffling when he rubs down the bridge of her snout. "Let's see what your daddy's got, yeah?"
Flipping through some of the releases, Steve stops at an album with Billie Eilish hugging herself on the cover. Memories whisper in his mind of scream singing, going 100 down the backroads of Hawkins. He can taste the blood in his mouth, feel the ache in his knuckles. Pounding in his chest without enough air in his lungs.
He swallows it all as Cortana bops her nose against his thigh, whining softly. He sets the album back in its place as he resumes his pets. Another aisle over, the dog at his heels, he picks through some more records until he finds the hidden gem. Sunset Season, Conan Gray's first EP. And it's the limited edition.
"Me and Robin used to listen to this all the time. I didn't even know there was a vinyl release," he tells Cortana. "We always listened to Idle Town by the lake, swearing we'd get out of that place. And we did."
Her tail wags as she sniffs at the sleeve. When he checks the price tag on the back, he sighs.
"It's probably gonna get swiped before I get paid. Bummer."
He squats down and runs his fingers through Cortana's coat as he tells her about each of the songs.
"She really likes you."
Steve has to scramble not to drop the expensive record as he falls back on his ass. Eddie hurries over to help him up with a laughter muffled by pursed lips, as the dog wastes no time licking at his face. At least she's not a slobbery dog.
"Jesus, you really do sneak up on people," Steve groans as he wipes at his face.
"Sorry, sorry. She's just not so quick to warm up to people, normally. She doesn't mind strangers — I wouldn't bring her to the shop if she did — but she doesn't go out of her way to hang around them."
Pride blooms in Steve's chest. He's the Chosen One and he couldn't be more honored. "She's a sweet girl. I was just showing her this album."
"Sunset Season, huh? I don't think I've heard that one." Eddie takes the offered sleeve and reads through the song titles.
"His newer songs are more popular, but this EP's my favorite."
For a brief, silly moment, Steve feels a little self-conscious. This guy probably thinks these pop-style songs are cheesy and uncool.
"I'll have to listen to it, then. This cover art has a good vibe. Do you want me to hold it at the front for you?"
"Ah, no. Thank you, though."
"Are you sure?" Eddie's frown and head tilt makes him look like a confused dog.
"Yeah, it's uh… a little out of my price range." When Robin calls his name from the CD area, he waves to Eddie and sets the record back in its place. Cortana stays behind with her owner.
They talk about the different CDs, Robin picking out a couple from the sale shelf along with a poster of Cavetown's Lemon Boy album. She snags a record of a band Steve doesn't recognize on the way to the counter and they check out. While she pays, Steve ruffles Cortana's ears and runs his hands through the soft fur of her belly.
Finally, they make their way out with Alyssa leading the pack again. Cortana watches them go from the window, tail drooping, and Steve pushes away the urge to just move into the shop so he never sees her sad again.
When they make it home, Robin pulls out a record sleeve from the bag.
"Oh, I didn't know you got this."
Steve's face flushes as he takes it from her. "I didn't know, either."
Sunset Season spins a little too loud for an apartment as they get ready for bed. Between affectionate kisses and bad dancing, Steve and Robin sing even louder.