DANCING WITH MYSELF • EDDIE MUNSON

post prom - pillow talk

**Rewritten with additional content**

Summary: Spending the night at Eddie's house sounded like a good idea... until you actually had to sleep.

warnings: very slightly NSFW, mostly just a lot of teasing, some suggestive dialogue, reader has a slight hand fetish, eddie is happy to indulge her, they get a little carried away, but no sex, because they don't have condoms

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When Eddie came inside and returned to his bedroom, he was instantly struck speechless.

He had fantasized about this exact moment countless times, in dreams so vivid they made reality feel like an unending, unbearable nightmare, but that did little to prepare him for the rush of emotions he felt when he saw you standing across the room in his Megadeth shirt.

A very good choice, Eddie thought, gratified, but honestly, between Slayer and Megadeth, there was no wrong answer. You could have chosen either shirt, and it would have fit just as perfectly as the other... almost like they were meant for you, like when Eddie found those shirts hiding inside a cardboard box in Reefer Rick's garage last summer, when he tried to haggle for a good price and Rick said he could just take 'em, when Eddie drove home, grinning, feeling like he'd just won the lottery, part of him always knew you'd be wearing one of those shirts someday.

And this sweet, serendipitous feeling caught Eddie a little off guard... but not as much as he thought it would. Frankly, he expected to be dumbstruck by the sight of you. He expected to step back, shake his head, and think, Holy shit, this is really happening, isn't it? But when he walked through that door, all he felt was this wonderful sense of wholeness.

After years and years of waiting, you two were finally exactly where you were supposed to be.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe and observed you for a minute, unwilling to disturb you, afraid that if he spoke or moved in the slightest, this perfect moment would ripple away like a mirage. You were standing with your back to him, preoccupied with all the clutter on his desk. You weren't snooping, though; no, you were just learning more about him, browsing through all of his junk like they were tiny sculptures in a fine art exhibit, handling each object so carefully, like you were scared you might break it.

Watching you do this, Eddie couldn't help but smile.

That's when you glanced over your shoulder and caught him staring at you with gentle, adoring eyes. Your face flushed and your heart started beating a little faster. It was embarrassing to be standing in front of Eddie while wearing his clothes.

Even more embarrassing was how long it took you to put them on.

You spent the first three minutes glaring at them from across the room, thinking (and you hated yourself for thinking this),

What if they don't fit?

It was such a silly thought. You even laughed when it popped into your head. You weren't that ugly, miserable twelve-year-old girl anymore, yet here you were, slipping back into those same bad habits: obsessing over whether or not certain clothes would fit you, changing with your back to the mirror because you were too disgusted to look at yourself.

It took you two whole minutes to convince yourself to turn around, and when you finally did, you were overwhelmed by this sudden surge of... joy? Relief? Those didn't seem like strong enough words to describe it, but whatever that emotion was, it made you tear up as soon as you saw your reflection in the mirror. Then you spent another five minutes just looking at yourself with the goofiest, giddiest smile, mesmerized by how perfectly Eddie's clothes fit you, how naturally they fit you. You felt stupid for even doubting it.