Eddie Munson was sprawled across the floor of his bedroom, long legs tangled with guitar cables and empty soda cans, fingers lazily picking at his Warlock as he tried to work out a riff that had been haunting him all afternoon. His hair hung in his face, curls frizzed from humidity, and his brow was furrowed in that familiar look of intense concentration—like the fate of the world depended on this one chord progression.

That’s when he heard you.

“Hey, baby. Can you come here please?”

Your voice floated in from the doorway, sweet and casual, like you weren’t plotting anything at all.

Eddie paused mid-note, the string twanging as his fingers stilled. He glanced up, dark eyes immediately softening when they landed on you. “Well, when you say it like that,” he drawled, pushing himself up off the floor with a dramatic groan, “how could I possibly resist?”

He set the guitar aside and padded over, socked feet barely making a sound on the carpet. “What’s up, sweetheart?” he asked, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “You look… suspiciously adorable right now.”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stepped closer, hands coming up to rest on his chest, fingers curling lightly in the fabric of his Hellfire shirt. Eddie’s grin faltered, curiosity flickering across his face.

“Uh,” he chuckled softly, “not that I’m complainin’, but—”

You leaned in and kissed him.

Not rushed. Not playful. Just slow and intentional, like you had all the time in the world.

Eddie froze for exactly half a second.

Then he melted.

It was like his entire body forgot how gravity worked. His shoulders dropped, every ounce of tension draining out of him as he instinctively leaned into you, one hand coming up to cradle your jaw while the other rested at your waist, warm and grounding. A quiet sound slipped from his chest—something soft and surprised—and he kissed you back without even thinking, lips moving against yours like it was the most natural thing he’d ever done.

By the time you pulled back, Eddie was very clearly gone.

He blinked once. Twice. His mouth hung open just a little, eyes glassy and unfocused like you’d just short-circuited his brain. His knees bent as if they might give out, and he had to tighten his grip on you to stay upright.

“…Holy shit,” he breathed.

You smiled, trying not to laugh.

Eddie stared at you, dazed and lovestruck, like he couldn’t quite believe you were real. “Did—did you just do that on purpose?” he asked faintly.

He shook his head, laughing under his breath as he pulled you closer, forehead resting against yours. “You can’t just kiss me like that and expect me to recover,” he muttered. “That’s not fair. I’m weak. I’m but a humble metalhead.”

He kissed you again, softer this time, smiling into it.