The trailer was loud. Not in the chaotic-Munson-party way, but in the “Steve and Robin have had too much caffeine and are now on a mission” way.

Eddie sat at the tiny kitchen table, arms crossed, boots kicked up on an empty chair as he glared half-heartedly at the two idiots in front of him.

“I’m telling you, Buckley,” Steve insisted, pacing dramatically, “he blushes. He does. I’ve seen it!”

Robin threw up her hands. “Sure, Harrington. And I’ve seen Bigfoot.”

Eddie smirked. “Sorry to crush your dreams, Stevie, but this face—” he gestured at himself with a flourish “—does not blush. Ever. I am untouchable.”

“Untouchable, he says,” Robin mocked, squinting at him like a scientist studying a suspicious specimen. “Like hell.”

You leaned against the counter, arms folded, just watching the spectacle unfold. It had been going on for twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of Steve leaning in close, giving Eddie dramatic compliments. Twenty minutes of Robin trying surprise attacks: sudden “you’re cute!”s launched like verbal grenades. Twenty minutes of Eddie simply raising an unimpressed eyebrow every time.

Honestly, it was impressive.

Steve groaned, tugging at his hair. “It’s impossible. He’s, like, immune!”

“No,” Robin said, pointing at Eddie with both hands, “he’s lying. No one is immune. There has to be a way.”

Eddie put a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Are you doubting my integrity?”

“Yes,” Robin and Steve said in unison.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand as Eddie shot you a betrayed look.

He knew you knew better. You’d seen him blush a hundred times. You just… hadn’t told them. It was very fun not telling them.

Robin leaned down so she was eye-level with Eddie. “Okay, Munson. What if I compliment your guitar skills?”

Nothing.

Steve tried, “What if I tell you your hair looks nice today?”

Eddie yawned.

Robin snapped her fingers. “What if I say you’re a heartthrob at school?”

Eddie blinked slowly. “Robin, I’m flattered. Truly. But nothing you two say is gonna—”

You pushed off the counter. His voice faltered. Because he saw your expression. Your slow approach. And he knew—knew—you were about to ruin him.

“Oh no,” he whispered. “Don’t you dare join them—”

But you were already gliding toward him, every step purposeful. Steve and Robin stepped back like they were witnessing the arrival of some mythical creature. You stopped directly in front of Eddie, who suddenly sat up straight, boots dropping to the floor with a thud.

“Hey,” he tried, voice cracking almost instantly.

You didn’t say anything. You simply leaned down, gently hooking a finger beneath his chin. Eddie froze. Completely. His eyes were wide, pupils blown, breath shallow. His hands—those fidgety, ring-covered hands—went utterly still in his lap. You tilted his face up toward yours, your lips hovering just barely—barely—a breath away from his.

And in the softest, warmest, dangerously affectionate tone you reserved for very specific moments, you whispered

“My good boy.”

Eddie’s brain shut down. Visibly. His mouth dropped open just slightly. His eyes went unfocused. His cheeks—pale, freckled, stubborn cheeks—flooded with the deepest shade of red you had ever seen on him.

Steve made a strangled noise. Robin slapped a hand over her mouth. Eddie didn’t move. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t blink. It was like watching a computer crash in real time. Finally, after a long moment, he managed to inhale sharply.

“That’s— that’s cheating,” he rasped.

You grinned, brushing your thumb along his jaw before pulling back.

“Looks like someone’s not blush-proof after all,” you teased softly.

Robin whispered, awe-struck, “He blue-screened.”

Steve nodded gravely. “She found the kill switch.”

Eddie slumped back in his chair, covering his burning face with both hands. “I hate all of you. All of you. Except her. But also her. Because what the hell.”

You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and he practically melted into the floor.