eddie munson has always prided himself on being a very accepting guy. he’s got friends with completely different beliefs, backgrounds and ideas, and he still treats em all the same. his philosophy in life pretty much boils down to:

‘do what you love, unless that’s hurting somebody else. then fuck you.’

so when robin buckley, his new girl-pal, whispered in his ear that she was gay at some stupid pep rally, he didn’t really care all that much. in fact, it made him feel more chill about hanging out with her considering he already had a badass girlfriend- you. all he said was.

“well yeah, chicks are hot as fuck. glad we have something in common.” she’d smiled and looked like she might cry or some shit, and that was that. or so he thought.

because then came the party.

he’d showed up with you, (of course), robin, steve (because robin insisted), and Gareth (the only remotely social bandmate he had).

You were handling your alcohol like a damn champ. you were always good at keeping him out of trouble in social situations. forcing him to dance, whispering in his ear, letting him make his absurd judgments of everyone else in the room to you constantly. it was exactly what he needed.

apparently, robin was watching it too, because three beers in? she started to squawk.

“eddie..?” she’d slurred his name, yanking his arm as you’d slipped away to grab him a drink. he’d looked up at her, trying not to laugh at how shitfaced this chick was.

“what’s up, robs?” he’d asked, holding onto her shoulder to help her stand up straight.

“i’m in love with your girlfriend.”

his stomach dropped.

that had not been what he was expecting at all.

he wanted to punch her out, throw her into a wall maybe.

…but he couldn’t. cause you can beat up a guy for saying that shit, but not your sweet lesbian friend who was basically your sister, right? tighter.

“wh-what..?” he choked out, voice pained.

she looked miserable.

“i’m in love with her, man…”

ok, so she did in fact say that the first time.great.

he’d been about to say something, but then you’d bounced on over and handed him his drink, singing along to whatever shitty micheal jackson song they were blasting.

robin had just blushed and looked down.

two months later? it’s pretty much all he thinks about when you’re all together.

you, his sweet and anxious little girlfriend who has no idea robin’s even a lesbian, sits on her lap. kisses her cheek. helps her carry her shit. things that, in your sweet little head, are all perfectly normal friend things that you totally do to nancy too.

but then eddie looks over at robins reactions? she’s beet red, mouth screwed up in this half smile half she-looks-like-she-might-have-a-stroke-face.

and it pisses him off.

he’s tried to tell her to back off- in a sweet, older brotherly way, of course- but she reminded him that she’s not even doing anything. you’re just affectionate and perfect (as he knows) and she’s only reacting.

right now, you’re squished between the two of them on the couch while everybody watches a movie. your hand is on eddie’s thigh, and your knees are pressed against his. he’s content. he’s chill. but then, he looks over and-

are you shitting me right now, buckley?

you’re asleep, head resting gingerly on robins shoulder as she looks down at your sweet little face and smiles like she’s one the lottery.

her hand is in your hair.

and then…

she kisses your forehead.

he thinks he might have to kill her.

instead, he just gently moves your head to his shoulder instead, making sure to give her a glare that would probably cause some sort of seizure in a small animal.

she blanches and looks down at her hands to fidget.

eddie notices the way you shift against him, half woken up.

“mph- eddie?” you mumble sleepily, curling into his side.

he pulls you closer.

robin might be in love with you, but you’re his girl.

“keep sleeping, baby..” he mumbles.