Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You’re a judge?!” Eddie exclaimed, laughing, obviously high. “For what? Who’d ask you?” Steve heard the disbelief in Eddie’s voice. Fucker. Asshole.

Steve narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms. He was not having this bullshit.

Billy looked up from his book, clearly a question mark in his eyes.

“Mrs. Henderson did, she’s away but she thought of me! Come on guys, it’s free food!” Steve told the pile of smelly metal heads who were still in bed, defending himself. He felt stupid immediately, because he was defending himself over two messy boys who were supposed to go driving to Indianapolis today with him for a day out.

Which was annoying Steve even more.

“And you guys told me you were ready to go, and look? You’re reeking. How do you explain that?”

Billy’s eyes widened as he looked at the clock. “Fuck.”

“We were distracted,” Eddie complained, “I finally managed to get my hand on that Iron Maiden tape-”

“I don’t care, I took a day off!” Steve snapped back. He loved them, but sometimes they were impossible. Steve didn’t understand their fascination for metal, that they’d listen all night to the same songs till Eddie knew how to play it on guitar and Billy could sing along.

But that it would be at the cost of Steve’s day out to Indianapolis, it fucking sucked.

Eddie even joked about him being a judge at the Hawkins baking competition, asshole move. So what that he was asked and wasn’t sure what the different types of crusts were. It was about taste, and one thing was clear; Steve had taste.

Maybe not in men. Ugh.

“I’m going, and you, both of you yeah, you too Hargrove, need to make it up to me, big time.” Steve snapped as Billy got up, “don’t even think about it. You guys didn’t even shower.”

Steve pressed his lips together, turned around and got in the car. Asshole boyfriends.

Sometimes it was a blessing that Billy moved out and lived with the Munson’s, but Eddie was such a mess sometimes and he was always ready to pull Billy in, who let him. A fucking curse.

*

The local parking lot was completely redesigned in an autumn themed festival, with a small fair attached to it for the kids. There were market stands with clothes, wool and fabrics, socks and tupperware and whatever moms and grandmas loved. Garlands with leaves and acorns, decorated with bales of straw and hay, carved pumpkins and in the far end a big tent was set up, all for the baking contest. It looked cozy and warm. It reminded him of the Henderson house.

Steve was the youngest one, apart from the toddlers, walking around. This wasn’t meant for teenagers but moms and grandparents. He understood why he never heard of it before either. Who would go and buy woolen socks here? They’re itchy and scratchy.

But okay, who’s he to judge? He’s a judge of cakes and pies after all. And he didn’t want to let mrs. Henderson down. He saw the other judges, mrs. Sinclair, mrs. Waldon from the library, and mr. Clarke, for some reason.

“Baking is a science,” his old teacher told him, “one little mistake and the whole cake will be either too dry or too wet, raw or burnt. They need to have the right technique, that’s important.”

“Taste is just as important, right?” Steve asked, because if not, he just had to fake knowledge, just like the old days in school. He graduated after all, so… no problem.

“It’s a part,” mr. Clarke told him, but mrs. Sinclair turned out to be just as practical as Steve was, winking at him that she was going to judge on the basis of taste. “If they make pecan pie, just like my granny made, I know who I vote for.”

The candidates were from all parts of town, mrs. Wheeler joined with a basket filled partially with apples and spices. Robin’s mom joined with a crate with carrots, making her amazing carrot cake that Steve loved (no, he wasn’t prejudiced). The old lady across of the street joined them, unpacking pecan nuts, which mrs. Sinclair immediately spotted.

And then, Eddie came in, holding a big bag with ingredients.

Steve’s eyes widened. What the hell?

To have Billy join them in the large tent, with another carton box filled to the brim.

They looked neat. Both of them. Wearing their Sunday clothes and having their hair in a bun. Christ.

Steve couldn’t keep staring, and stalked Billy as he started unpacking. Boxes of strawberries were stacked on the edge. “What are you doing here?” Steve hissed at him.

“We’re here to make it up to you.”

“Can you even bake?”

“Just you wait, princess.”

“And Eddie? He can barely flip a pancake.”

“We practiced,” Billy smiled with teeth, “we’re trying. For you.”

They handed out aprons, checkered ones, and Steve… melted. He watched his boyfriends getting ready, looking prepared for once.

They had made the effort.

Mrs. Sinclair smiled at him, “it’s always nice to see new young faces entering.”

Mr. Clarke wasn’t amused, walking up to Eddie, looking over his shoulder, asking what he was actually doing here, that this was science and not something to make fun of. Eddie actually looked serious, showing him a written out recipe before he told his old teacher to give him space to actually participate.

Mr. Clarke didn’t know Billy, so he just passed him, while Steve watched how those strong hands were handling the ball of dough. Steve did know nothing about it, just that… it was kind of sexy when his boyfriends showed off in plain sight.

“Did you convince them to join?” Mrs. Waldon joined Steve for a cup of coffee to warm up. “Or did they lose a bet?”

Steve smiled back, saying he wasn’t sure. One thing he was sure about, he couldn’t wait to taste their bakes, and go home and kiss them silly.

Billy checked in with Eddie more than the other way around, and Steve actually caught mrs. Wheeler leaning in when Billy was busy halving strawberries, which… was concerning, knowing their history.

Steve had the urge to turn up her oven a bit too much, but then watched how Eddie poured a little bit too much booze into her filling, which… could be a good thing, maybe? Who didn’t like alcohol? He hoped Eddie’s little sabotage would work, instead of getting everyone drunk and have her win the prize.

Steve was going to be the worst judge ever.

But smelling the baked apples and pumpkin spices, everything smelled sweet and terrific. One of his neighbors in Lock Nora made an upside down pie with pears and caramel. Simple, but mouth watering when she flipped it around and the caramel brown pears were all sticky and smelling divine.

Steve only dared to go visit his boyfriends when they were over halfway the time, checking in on what they were actually going to make.

“It’s your favorite,” Eddie grinned, and Billy turned around, “no it’s not!” Steve rolled his eyes as they were bickering. Steve saw Eddie was making a classic pumpkin pie, which was delicious but not his favorite.

“Your favorite is cream pie anyway,” Billy stated matter of factly, looking smug and turned around to busy himself with whipped cream. Eddie choked behind him and Steve looked bewildered at the blonde.

He hated Billy. Was he allowed to use violence? Billy winked at him, licking his lips. Fucker.

Steve looked around and sighed in relief. No one heard, and no one saw, thank god. Eddie still looked entertained, and distracted. Steve worried about what he was about to judge.

Steve needed a smoke break, trying to get that hot feeling out of his system.

There was no need to think about sex when judging pies. And yet… Billy managed.

Mr. Clarke judged him for ruining his taste buds as he returned to the baking tent and Steve rather stayed around mrs. Sinclair who had made it a game to taste whatever was left on the benches without anyone noticing. Steve liked that. There wasn’t anything else to do anyway.

The first pies were out of the oven to cool, ready to be decorated. In Eddie's case, trying. Billy, on the other hand, was a natural. Strawberry shortcake, mrs. Sinclair told him, “he knows what he’s doing, I wonder who taught him.”

Steve didn’t know either. He knew Neil's thoughts about men in kitchens and heard the stories of Max and BIlly trying to wrestle through dry meatloaf Susan poured all of her energy into.

With all cakes and pies cooled and presented, Steve had the important role to try and taste all of them. He got the advice just to take one bite, instead of eating the whole slice. Which… was a shame, but he wasn’t going home feeling sick. He had more important things to do. Like… Billy and Eddie.

He followed mrs. Sinclair mostly during judging. She seemed the most relaxed about everything. While mr. Clarke took ages testing the crusts, Steve indulged himself with the first bakes. Mrs. Waldon told Steve he wasn’t allowed to try mrs. Wheelers pie. “You get drunk after one bite.” Steve watched as mr. Clarke shook his head and mrs. Sinclair actually whooped in delight, joking with mrs. Wheeler about something that would make problems go away.

Steve didn’t mourn missing that boozy pie, as he reached for Eddie’s. Eddie looked nervous, there was flour in his hair and stains in his apron, and a nervous look, like he was about to poison someone. Steve took a bite, a little hesitant. It was smooth and had just enough spices, but the crust was slightly burnt. Steve couldn’t be mad at him for all the effort, no, he wanted to kiss the guy. It was unexpected to see such a result. The filling was great. He worked his ass off in something he was really bad at. For Steve.

Billy’s shortcake was just heavenly, light and sweet and it looked so pretty. Billy looked proud, puffing up a little when everyone complimented his skills and even other contestants joined in tasting his cake. Steve noticed a particular sour look from mrs. Wheeler.

Was it a surprise that the pecan pie won? No. But Billy came in close second, and while the prizes weren’t anything spectacular, Steve felt real proud. He wished he could leave with them immediately, but Steve had to stay behind for wrapping up. Mr. Clarke had a list of everything that could be improved, while mrs. Sinclair had made herself a box with leftovers and mrs. Waldon was cleaning up, and Steve helped because it was the least he could do, even though he wanted to run straight to his boyfriends.

Steve found Eddie and Billy back in the trailer. The kitchen was kind of a mess, and the bedroom was empty. Steve found them on the couch, watching TV, Billy lying on Eddie’s lap. Eddie was feeding Billy strawberries and whipped cream on the couch, picking them up from the leftover cake. Eddie didn’t seem concerned that he came in last because he burnt the bottom.

He joined the couple, kissed Eddie first, thanking him. Eddie hummed against his lips. Steve leaned down, licking away the cream from Billy’s lips, kissing him.

“Mmmm, my favorite.”