Chapter Text
“C’mon— you know I’m not good with crowds.”
“It’s not a crowd, it’s a bar,” Sam's voice rang out in the silence of your office as you typed away at your computer, deciding it would be easier to just keep her on speaker while you finished up your assignment as opposed to balancing your phone on your shoulder to hold it up to your ear.
Your lips settled into a soft frown, eyebrows gently knit together, “bars are boring if you’re not 21,” you pointed out, rereading the past sentence you wrote before starting a new paragraph, “which I am not.”
Sam all but rolled her eyes. You couldn’t see her, but you could tell just from the brief silence. “Then let’s go to a restaurant or something! The movies! Anything! You’ve been cooped up for like a month now— it’s time to you get you back out there!” You should faintly hear her already typing away, searching up local restaurants.
It was true. It had been nearly a month of you being moved into your new home and aside from shopping trips for food and furniture, you had stayed inside your home. So far, your days had mostly been spent working through college classes and continuously searching for a job that would accept you even without a bachelors degree. You would have thought that you could get a job at any grocery store, but alas, even they required experience that you did not have.
The objects didn’t mind you being inside for this long. It allowed them to learn more about you so soon after moving in. A majority of them still needed time to adjust to your routine, but there were some things that they had picked up on. You mumbled when you were having a nightmare, so Betty would get just a bit softer when you did. You liked looking at the sunrise, so Curt and Rod made sure to let the light stream through a crack in the curtains if you weren’t awake yet. If you were stressed about your coursework, you would take a break if a website took just a little too long to load, which Mac had to admit they might have used a few times after you sat for hours at their monitor.
They sat beside you while you talked to Sam, splitting your attention between your assignment and your conversation. They were… impressed. Of course, they knew all of the information you were studying already, but the fact that you were in college and already bought a house was astounding. They knew that, statistically, you were an outlier in your age group. To them, this was a well deserved break. Also they needed some time in sleep mode after the amount of time you had spent on them.
You sighed, hitting the ‘turn in’ button. It was a good enough essay— it met all of the requirements, and that was enough for you. After you did, your other classes took just a little too long to load. You sighed gently, your attention shifting to your phone as you waited. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to just go out. You didn’t have any assignments due for a bit, which really meant like two days. “Fine,” you finally sighed into the phone as you picked it up, but a smile was ever present on your lips, “what time are you picking me up?”
“8?” Sam’s voice immediately perked up, and you wanted to laugh at how excited she sounded.
It was 6, so you had time. Even if you were to have second thoughts within those two hours, Sam would not allow you to stay cooped up any longer. You hung up not long after, and Mac was relieved when you turned them off. The smile on your lips grew as you pushed away from your desk, stretching with a groan. It would be nice to get out, even just for a few hours. You made your way upstairs, footsteps soft on the hardwood with care.
Some of your clothes were still in boxes, unfortunately. You weren’t sure where Sam was planning on taking you, but you wanted to dress up a little bit. As you knelt on the floor, rifling through unlabeled cardboard, Amir sat on your bed, watching you while Barry was kneeling next to you, various products balanced between his hands while he color matched them to items in the box.
Amir reclined against the bed, his weight resting back on his hands while Barry spoke, evaluating your beauty supplies in contrast to the outfits you were considering. “If he goes with the red, then he could do a smokier look— oh, but that light blue shirt would go great with this liner and he hasn’t used it in awhile…”
“They are both incredible on him,” Amir sighed, sitting up just the slightest bit, “but that red shirt! It is breathtaking.” His head was skewed to the side a bit, taking in every shape of your form.
Barry frowned, but couldn’t help but nod in agreement. Even though he loved the look of the light blue liner on your lower waterlines, he also loved seeing you wear that red shirt. Four shirts were strewn around you, each one being scrutinized by your watchful eye.
Your attention turned to your phone, most likely to text Sam, so Barry stood up, sitting beside Amir on your bed. “I doubt he’ll use me though,” a small, self depreciating chuckle escaped his curled lips, his eyebrows knit together, “not that I blame him! I mean— it’s not like he needs me— look at him, he’s fabulous!”
Amir tilted his head to the side, turning his attention to Barry. “You are still incredibly important to his routine. He utilizes your skillset everyday!” The two briefly glanced at you as you finally chose an outfit. It wasn’t either of the shirts that they were hoping for— which wasn’t that surprising since they were a bit extravagant for a casual outing, but it was still a little disappointing.
“I suppose that’s true,” Barry mumbled, his hands twirling a blush brush between his fingers. Technically, you did use him. He wasn’t just composed of makeup— he was your toothbrush, cologne— basically almost anything that had to do with your hygiene and presentation. But it wasn’t the core of who he was. It was selfish, he knew, but he wanted to be utilized for his skillset more.
You got dressed relatively quickly after you chose your outfit. But as you looked at yourself in the mirror, posing, you frowned a bit, pinching and tugging at your shirt. You were attempting to cover as much of your binder as possible. Your eyes seemed to dim the longer that you looked into Amir’s reflective surface. He couldn’t help but mirror your expression, a frown settling onto his perfect face.
He wanted to hold you. He could almost imagine it. He would reach out his fingers to your face, guide your face to your reflection— make you look at how wonderful you are. He wasn’t even aware of your supposed flaws— because he did not even see them as flaws. Wherever your eyes lingered, nausea boiling in your stomach, Amir could only feel admiration. You turned away from him, and he could only watch. Unable to call out. To tell you the praise built up inside of him like a dam ready to explode, flooding your conscious with the love he has devoted to you in his mind.
There was a certain energy throughout the rest of the house as you got ready in the upstairs bathroom. Barry got to work on your perfume and hygienic care, but the other objects were buzzing with excitement. It was like a parent was leaving for the weekend. Of course, it wasn’t like you were aware of them, but it felt different when a human wasn’t there. They could actually move and be alive with accusations of the home being haunted— they could work on repairs without the fear of being discovered.
Chatter echoed through the house. While you were smoothing out your shirt, checking the time over and over again for Sam to arrive at your house— most of the residents were making their way upstairs. The Breaker Box was fuller than it had been in a while— ever since the previous owners had moved out. The rumble of tires pulled into the driveway, and as soon as Front Dorian stood into position again, locking with a satisfying ‘click,’ the house came alive.
While the lights in the rest of your house were off, due to you not wanting to waste power, the sheer amount of bodies within the Breaker Box nearly matched the energy output of keeping all of the lights on. Eddie was grateful that at least more than Johnny and Jean Loo had signed up for the night— some actual talent was set to perform.
He felt near lightheaded as he mixed a Manhattan— setting it down in front of Betty with a gentle clink. She thanked him gently, taking a sip while glancing over at the stage. “It must be a busy night for you then, huh?” She asked Eddie, who was already getting to work making another six drinks.
“Yeah,” he mumbled, a stray spark flying out of his hair. It was getting harder to control the voltage these days. “I didn’t expect anything less with the human gone.”
“You really should relax at some point,” She rested her weight against her palm as she leaned against the bar, carefully studying his face. “You’re gonna fray like this.”
“Don’t have time,” he shrugged. At least all of the Hanks usually ordered the same thing so it was easier to make their drinks at the same time. “And I won’t fray, I’m fine. It’s usually not this busy.”
Eddie knew that he was fucking lying. Sure, it usually wasn’t this busy— but your constant staying inside wasn’t ideal with his already high output from having to run the club by himself every single day. He didn’t want to admit he was on the brink of a power outage. He could feel his fuse on the brink of explosion— but he pushed it down. He didn’t have time.
Betty frowned, but before she could say anything else, Eddie dimmed the lights, both to start the show and to give himself a bit of relief. It was much easier to keep one stage light on than the rest of the bar lights on. Thankfully, Miranda was starting off the show. At least she wouldn’t get all of the equipment wet like a certain shower always did. And people could actually stand— and even enjoy— her music.
He still had to make drinks though. With the amount of people sitting in the club, Eddie knew that he would be burnt out by the end of the night. He wobbled as he retreated from bringing the Hanks their drinks. His mouth tasted of copper— he needed to sit down and drink some actual water. But he couldn’t. If he sat down he wouldn’t be able to stand back up.
Another spark escaped from his wired hair as he mixed a cocktail. Who even ordered this? God— he needed to start writing it down. Maybe he should get somebody to help him. No— that would be admitting defeat. He could do it alone. He had done it for this long so far. Everyone else had a job already anyways. Electric guitar cords echoed in his ear as he shook, eyes locked onto the bar. Distant. The shaker in his hand overtook that of the music. Had she stopped playing? It was getting quieter. Like a dull ringing. Copper flooded his tastebuds. Water. A drink.
An electrical static buzzed in his skull— it felt as if it was stuffed full of cotton, but not in the way he liked. He couldn’t think. Was he still shaking the cocktail shaker? Why couldn’t he tell? The world blurred around him, and he wobbled on his feet. Did someone call for him? He could faintly hear a voice in the distance, but as he looked up, he couldn’t identify the source. He saw the vague outline of Betty, who was circling the bar. But whatever voice he heard wasn’t hers. None of the objects sounded like this disembodied voice did. He swore it came from his own skull.
Blackout. In a situation where the body does not have enough energy or fuel to sustain itself, it will always sacrifice other aspects for the body’s survival. Even consciousness. The only thing Eddie could feel as his body collided with the floor was a blackout throughout the entire house. The drainage of power going back into his veins. And the drink he was shaking spilling all over him.
He was on the floor. How long had he been out? He groaned softly at the sticky feeling of vodka soaking through his shirt, his entire body covered in the remnants of a vodka cranberry. His vision swam as he opened his eyes. It would have been impossible to see in the darkness of the bar if his eyes hadn’t produced light. The light from his own eyes made him wince. It made his head pound— like his very own circuit wanted to escape from his body.
His head was cradled in a lap. Betty. Her hands were soft as they traveled over his hair, soothing out the weak sparks fraying out. “I think you do need that break, cutie.”
He just sighed heavily, his head collapsing back onto her lap. He wasn’t even trying to keep his head up anymore. “I’m fine.” His voice was rough. When was the last time he drank something besides sipping whiskey in between making customer drinks?
Betty frowned, rolling her eyes. “I beg to differ,” she traced over his hairline. The sparks were dying down. “We’re getting you to bed.”
“No, no you’re—“
We?
Eddie was hurled over a shoulder. One he was too familiar with. “Tony.”
“Cmon, you knew I wasn’t just gonna let you blackout the whole house without checkin’ on ya,” Eddie could hear the grin in Tony’s words, which only made his eye twitch more.
The bar was empty. Was he really out for that long? Tony made his way up to Eddies apartment over the Breakers Box. Betty followed closely behind, making sure that Tony actually got Eddie into bed. “I’ll leave you to it,” she shared a look with Tony, smiling gently.
Eddie huffed as he was gently tossed down by Tony. “You closed the bar without me?” His glare was downright dangerous as he gazed up at Tony. His body felt tire, yet thrummed with unused energy from the blackout. All of the power that was normally used on the Breaker Box was sent back to him. He hadn’t felt this energized in awhile.
Tony shrugged, sitting at the edge of the bed. Eddie wanted to wipe that stupid fucking grin off of his face. He was being too casual about this. Why was he never serious? “Eh, I told everyone to get the fuck outta there and they did.”
“So you didn’t close it properly,” Eddie moved to sit up, but Tony stopped him.
“Ah— no. I was told to help you relax.”
He didn’t need to relax. He relaxed when he was passed out. “Tony,” Eddie sighed, running a hand through his fraying hair, “I don’t have time. If the bar isn’t closed properly—“
“Eds,” Tonys voice was more serious. In the time that Eddie had known him— the toolbox was almost never serious. He always wore a stupid smile that made Eddie furious. He always leaned against the bar too heavily, always flirted in the most obvious, aggravating ways. His muscles always flexed when he took a sip of his drink. He was always working right outside of the bar— sweaty and breathing heavily.
And God did Eddie want to fuck him.
Tony sighed, his expression softening. ”We don’t gotta do nothing if you don’t want to, I’m just saying—“
Eddie had already grabbed onto the straps of his overalls, pulling him impossibly closer. Their lips crashed like a ship against the ridged rocks of the shore— it was bruising and neither cared. Eddies eyebrows knit with the effort to expel all of his feelings into the kiss. His exhaustion, his annoyance with the man he was grabbing onto. His tongue darted out, begging for an outlet to release his feelings. He needed to get rid of the energy coursing through him.
Tony smiled into the kiss— which only doubled Eddies efforts. God— did he ever fucking stop smiling? Tony’s hands gripped onto Eddies hips not long after, and he pulled the other man closer, until he was leaning against the pillows and Eddie was firmly on his lap. Eddie had half a mind to complain— he wasn’t one to just be thrown around— pulled like a rag doll— but Tony’s lips parted for him and all of his complains flew out of the window. He deepened the kiss immediately, as if tempting to fuse with one another.
Their mouths were glued to one another, shaky exhales through their noses filling the minimal space between them. The taste of copper seemed to intensify on Tony’s tongue— but it was different this time. It shot voltage throughout Eddies whole system— the hard metal of Tony’s being only intensifying the charge. The thrust his tongue over the others, attempting to coat as much of his tongue with copper as possible. He needed it like whiskey— this time, the burn didn’t come from the alcohol.
Somehow, Eddie managed to pull away. But he hadn’t gotten his fill yet. His eyes darted manically over the man beneath him, his tongue swiping over his teeth as he thought— each image more depraved than the last. He wanted to fill his mouth. Eddies mouth found Tony’s neck— rough, hot puffs of air accompanied by bites began to litter over Tony’s neck, each one drawing a groan out of the man below him. “You’re really fucking annoying,” Eddie grumbled against his neck, as if he wasn’t currently sinking his teeth into him like a wolf that just found a steak.
“I know,” Tony sighed dreamily, as if Eddie just called him the most handsome man in the world while leaving soft kisses on his cheek. It pissed Eddie off. And made him throb in his slacks. He left a harsher bite— purple already blossoming in the wound. It was messy— small beads of saliva escaping Eddies mouth and dripping down Tony’s low-cut shirt. Tony hissed in a breath, hand patting Eddies back. “Ay, cool it. I gotta work in the morning.”
“So do I,” Eddie reminded him, panting and finally pulling away to look Tony in the eyes. His eyes were dark, dangerous while his hands gripped onto the overalls. His eyes darted around the marks he left. He wanted to leave more. He needed to get his energy out. The current in his veins flooded down to his groin, voltage building up in his cock.
Tonys hand slid off of his lip, dipping lower to cup Eddies ass, giving it an oh-so-loving squeeze. “Damn— you’re tellin’ me you ain’t tied down yet?” For a man who was just chewed on— he was real talkative.
“Shut the fuck up,” Eddie worked on Tony’s clothes, unhooking and unbuckling as quickly as he could. “Do you ever stop talking?” It was maddening. Because despite his annoyance, the twitch of his eye every time the other opened his mouth, he wanted to be folded over right then. And he would rather burn out and die before admitting that aloud.
“Nope,” Tony sat up, returning the gesture by working on Eddies vest, but more calmly than Eddies hasty motions. He paused for a second. His eyes wandered over Eddies chest, cogs turning in his brain. He wanted to test something. Which was never a good idea coming from Tony. Experimentally, he flipped a switch on Eddies vest.
The effect was immediate. It felt like someone turned up his watts— bolts shot through every limb of his body— and Eddie shuddered. A cry escaped his mouth without his permission, his hips bucking down into the other man. His eyes snapped up, face flushed, jaw clenched. “Don’t.” He warned, cock throbbing against Tony’s.
It was already too late. Eddie knew that. Tony’s face was bright with glee as he fiddled with the switches on Eddie. Eddie found his hands unable to stay steady on Tony’s clothes— there was electricity zipping around inside of him with each flicker. “Tony— fuck,” he groaned, his head falling forward. “You’re an asshole.” His voice wavered as he spoke, breathless. Whimpers tumbled from him— he bit his lip to control them. Copper.
”Oh, I know. I know.” That only made it worse. Eddie groaned, his hands tightening on Tony’s biceps. He felt his circuit begin to leave him again. But it wasn’t like when he passed out. It was instinctive— he felt alive. Was this what full power felt like? Like a live wire— his hair shot out strong sparks, but Tony didn’t seemed to mind even as they handed on his bare skin. “There we go, you’re pent up as shit, huh?”
Eddie weakly grumbled, which devolved into a whine as he roughly rutted his hips against Tony’s. It didn’t even matter that they were both clothed— Eddie needed relief right then. And Tony didn’t mind it at all. It was clumsy— neither was focused on poise. They needed eachother as much as a breaker needed a fuse. As much as a nail needed a hammer. One of Tony’s hand stayed on the switches, never ceasing his ministrations, while the other gripped Eddies waist again, guiding the other man to grind against him. Rough.
Eddies eyes slipped shut as he followed Tony’s lead. Usually, he would at least put up a bit more of a front. Fight back just a bit more for control, even if he didn’t want control that day. But he was exhausted despite the power in his veins. If it weren’t for the flashes of electricity burning in his gut with each rough jolt of his hips, and Tony’s strong hand gripping his waist— he would have been dead asleep. Not that he minded this outcome. Not one bit.
“You know you can always call ol’ Tony when you’re stressed, Ed’s,” Tony mumbled. His breathing was heavier, even as he tried to stay upbeat. His cock throbbed in his half-undone overalls, but his sole focus was on Eddie. He flicked a certain switch a bit faster, and Eddie shook on his lap, whining. “You know what I’m talkin’ about?”
“We’re not fucking doing that right now,” Eddie bit out, squeezing his eyes shut as he sped up his hips against Tony’s. Eddie moaned into his shoulder, biting it through his shirt. Drool soaked through, darkening the gray fabric in a perfect oval— he could only hope that it would leave a mark underneath the fabric. “Fuck— just keep going.”
“Thought you wanted me to shut up?” Tony tried to chuckle, but the humor was eliminated by sheer need. He needed relief— and so did Eddie. The pressure was building between them— a fuse about to blow. As conductive as a lightning rod— neither wanted the spark to die out. Eddie cried out as another switch was flipped, Tony’s hands just a bit firmer on his vest.
“Shut up— just keep fucking talking— please.” The plea did not go unnoticed by Tony. The word fell from Eddies lips— a prayer from the mouth of an atheist. Such a sweet, simple word to come from a man so devoted to never asking for anything.
Tony gripped harder. He pushed the other down to grind against his cock harder. “You work so hard, you know? I’ve fixed so many people in this house and you’re still the most wound up,” Tony groaned, biting down on his lip harshly. He could only pray that one day, he and Eddie would go all the way. His eyes squeezed shut as he imagined him bouncing on him, the other fucked stupid, finally not overthinking for once. “I’ve wanted to fix that for fuckin’ years.”
Eddies movements were janky as he bucked into Tony. The words washed over him, the static in his head buzzing louder and louder every moment. “Shit, I’m close.” He mumbled. He usually lasted longer than this.
Tony tugged on a switch on his vest, pulling him closer. Their teeth clattered together in a hasty kiss. Hot air circled around them like a barrier— sweaty hair mixing together, only distinguishable by texture. Tony’s tongue thrust into Eddies mouth, and Eddie didn’t protest. His hands tightened painfully on Tony’s biceps, his hips wildly jutting against his.
Nails dug into Tony’s bicep as the man above him shuddered. The air around them crackled with electricity— and for a moment, Eddies hair flashed stark white, mouth open in a high cry. His hips stuttered, seeking the last remnants of his orgasm as he crashed hard, nearly blinding the toolbox.
Tony followed not long after. He harshly pulled the panting man down, roughly bucking up before groaning with relief. The two lazily tried to chase their pleasure, soft whimpers and breaths escaping them.
It was Eddie who gave up first, his hair fizzling out back into normal wires. His head landed harshly on Tony’s shoulder, his whole body limp. Tony panted, stopping the last roll of his hips to run a hand through Eddies hair, which he didn’t protest to. This time.
They laid for a moment in silence. There was a soft hum of electricity in the air of the power throughout the house being restored. Tony gently patted Eddies hip and he rolled over, flopping to lay face down on the bed. He heard Tony chuckle above him, rough and too hot. “Get up, your pants are fucking soaked.”
“I’ll live,” Eddie mumbled out tiredly, his eyes already closing. By the time Tony had finished unclamping his overalls and pushing away the rest of his clothes, Eddie was asleep. He groaned quietly, but nonetheless, helped the other man undress and change. His fingers were soft, gentle even as they peeled away sticky fabric from Eddie. He needed a shower.
They’d both worry about that in the morning. Tony could vaguely hear the human come back from whatever outing they had, but he didn’t really care right then. He slipped into some of Eddies boxers, before climbing back into bed.
Eddie could not keep going like this. As much as Tony loved to believe that it could be fixed with sex— he could already see the wear of the power being restored on Eddie. He looked so exhausted even in rest. Tony sighed, eyes slipping shut as he held the other man against his chest, spooning him. He was sure Eddie would wake up and go back to being Eddie— refusing affection. And Tony would go back to his over exaggerated flirting— sexual innuendos thrown into every sentence. But in the quiet of the apartment above the Breaker Box, the hum of static played a gentle lullaby.