It was so fucking hot. Not that Steve had expected the temperature inside Family Video to be arctic cold, but he at least expected the small plug in fan that had been so graciously left for them to use actually fucking worked. It was constantly sputtering, turning off and on at will. Even when it was working, it did jack shit. Needless to say, it was a rough day at the office.
And he thought he was being pissy about it, moaning every time he heard it stop spurring, but Robin on the other hand was an absolute mess. When the notebook on the counter stopped working as a make-shift fan, she had taken to making multiple trips to the bathroom to douse herself in water, coming back looking like she just emerged from the shower. Currently, she was dripping water all over the floor, hair slicked back with half sink water, half sweat, groaning with her head resting on the counter.
“This is a never ending Hell. This is actual, real life Hell. The bigots weren’t lying- I’m here because of all the gay thoughts I’ve had, aren’t I? This is my eternal punishment,” Robin moaned, whipping her head off the counter.
Steve snorted, his own head leaning on his elbow on the counter, facing toward the door, praying that a customer wouldn’t walk in. He didn’t think he had the energy to put on his retail smile. “This must be the fire in fire and flintstone, huh.”
Robin turned her head and gave Steve an amused look. “Brimstone. Fire and brimstone, Steve.”
“What? I’m pretty sure it’s flintstone.”
“I want you to think very hard Steve,” she said, “Very, very hard. Why in the world would it be fire and flintstone?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, doesn’t flint like make fire? And stone like, I dunno, helps it? What the hell even is a brimstone?”
Robin scrunched her eyebrows and looked forward. “Huh. That actually does make more sense.”
Steve hummed in agreement, and slight satisfaction, when he heard the bell over the door ring. He groaned. They’d thankfully gotten through half of their eight hour shift with only four customers, and even one more felt like a hassle. He stood up, and watched as Robin followed suit, and tried to put on his best smile before the customer eventually made it to their line of sight. Steve positioned his eyes on the floor, awaiting their arrival, when he saw a pair of dirty white shoes and the ends of tight black jeans, accompanied by the jingle of keychains. Eddie.
Eddie was something that took Steve by surprise, unlike many things that happened nowadays. A couple brushes with death will do that to you. But then came Eddie, at first a super strange addition to their already weird group. But months went by, and suddenly he was just- there. He was there for when Steve had to pick up the kids from their nerd club, there when he hung out with Rob, and there when he wanted to rent a movie. And Steve pretended, at first, to be uncomfortable, to try and keep up his holier than thou facade. It wasn’t one that he wanted to have, or even particularly liked, but it was one he had a strange sort of attachment to, like a child with a blanket.
But weeks went by, and it was more exhausting to feign indifference when it was Eddie. Eddie, who was fun, and loud, and sometimes a little annoying. But it was Eddie, and if Steve was being entirely honest, he was glad that Eddie wormed his way into their lives. He made things interesting, to say the least.
So he wasn’t surprised that he was here now, in Family Video, walking up to the register like he owned the place. He was here almost on a daily basis, distracting them from actually getting any work done. But what was weird, was that when Steve’s gaze reached Eddie’s shoulders, there were no usual tufts of brown hair resting just below them. In fact, there was none below his chin either. Steve looked up fully, and his eyes widened. Eddie’s hair was nested at the nape of his neck, bangs still intact, but the rest of the hair was cut, sitting in chunky layers that rested behind his ears. What the fuck?
“Hello my lovely wonderful friends! Any new releases, I am absolutely famished in the movie department. I’d even take a double VHS if you have any good ones,” Eddie said, manically cheerful.
Steve just stared, open mouthed, as he heard Robin start to speak from where she was looking down at the counter, beginning to flip through a magazine. “You just came in here yesterday and rented two movies, Eds. Count em’, one-” she lifted her head up, a finger raised, when she faltered, “What happened to you?”
She had a look of concern on her face, beginning to stare at Eddie as well. Eddie simply kept a smile plastered on his face, eyes frantically shifted between the two of them. Steve couldn’t think. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, people get haircuts all the time. It was normal. But this was Eddie. Not ever in a million years would he get his haircut. But here he was, with his haircut. And it was clearly cut. No doubt about it, the length was gone. And Steve got that, he really did, the information had definitely processed in his brain, he was sure of it, but all he ended up mustering out was, “Did you- did you cut your hair?”
Eddie’s smile faltered, and he just stared at Steve for a moment. Robin stayed quiet, eyes shifting between Steve and Eddie.
Eddie sighed. “No it just fell off like this. Yes I fucking obviously cut my hair!”
His smile had dropped now, and he was furiously running his hands through what was now left of the locks on his head. He looked irritable, and slightly angry. Mostly just frustrated. Steve thought maybe he should go into reconciliation mode.
“Hey man, it- it uh, it looks good! Yeah it looks good, right Rob? Rob?” Steve stuttered, elbowing Robin.
“Y-yeah! It looks great Eddie! Really- really good!” She shot out, “Can you, um, maybe tell us why you cut it? I mean, just for uh, for curiosity’s sake.”
Eddie groaned and started rubbing his face. “I don’t know why I expected to just get away with it, y’know? Thought I could just walk in here and no one would notice. God, I’m so stupid, Jesus Christ-”
“Hey, hey-” Steve interrupted, instinctively reaching a hand out and placing it on Eddie’s shoulder, the position a little uncomfortable due to their distance over the counter, “it’s not a big deal, man, it was just, uh- a shock.”
Eddie gave him a side-eye, clearly not believing it but visibly calming down a little. He sighed, and then glanced over to where Steve’s hand was resting on his shoulder. He glanced back up and caught Steve’s eyes, and he quickly removed his hand, as if he’d been burned. He tugged it against his side, his palms now sweating, and inconspicuously rubbed it against his jeans. What the hell was that?
Robin seemed to have a similar idea, giving Steve a quick look before turning back to Eddie. “So, do we get to hear the reason, or are you maintaining the air of mystery?” She nervously laughed out.
He laughed, a snide, sardonic laugh. “I’d tell you I got gum stuck in my hair, but I’d be lying. And even if I did try to lie, I think Stevie over here is a human untruth detector-”
Steve blushed (why did he blush?).
“-so I’ll give you the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God,” he said, dramatically placing one hand over his heart and one by head head, palm facing out.
Steve took a step back from the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave him an expecting look. “Alright, Munson, let’s hear it.”
Eddie sighed again, which seemed to be his default starting line at this point, and shook his hands around his head. “Last night, I was milling around Denfield, as a freak of my nature does. I was waiting on… on a uh-”
-You can say buyer, Eddie-”
“-Yeah, okay thank you Robin,a buyer. Anyways, I was waiting there, in some park, I don’t remember the name. And Jason Carver and some of his rat-pack goons showed up-”
“Jason?” Steve interrupted. Eddie shot him a look.
“You both begged me for the truth, but if you wanna keep interrupting me I can stop.”
Steve just rolled his eyes and threw up a hand, an apology and a carry on all at once.
“Thank you, Harrington, anyways, the goons show up and start giving me shit, as usual. A little knocking around, nothing more than a couple hits to the face,” he pointed at a bruise on his cheek that Steve somehow hadn’t noticed, “and some kicks to the ribs. I thought they’d leave me alone after they had their fun, y’know, but I guess they wanted a final nail in the coffin, or whatever.
So the long and short of it, ha get it,” he huffed a laugh pointing at his hair. Steve nor Robin laughed in return, so he kept going, “Basically they cut my hair with a pocket knife. To be honest, they didn’t cut that much off, just about to my chin, but it looked like shit. And usually I try not to care about my appearance that much-” to this Steve did laugh, “-shut it, Harrington. But yeah, it looked like actual shit so I went home, licked my wounds, and tried to fix it with some kitchen scissors. Clearly I didn’t do a very good job.”
He tossed his hands around his head, and Steve leaned to get a better look. It was very messy. He could see what Eddie may have been trying to do, some sort of Andrew McCarthy in Pretty in Pink type look, but messier? More rock n’ roll? Longer bangs? All Steve knew was that it could be fixed, so he said, “I could fix it.”
Eddie snapped his head to look at him. “What?”
Steve looked back, and caught Robin giving him a look. What the hell was that about? He scrunched his eyebrows at her, and turned back to Eddie. “Yeah? I could fix it. I’ve been cutting my own hair for years. Plus, I used to cut Tommy’s hair all the time. And we turned out fine.”
Eddie was staring at him like he’d just grown another head, and Steve was confused. He knew hair salons existed, he shopped at some for nicer products or whatever, and he knew people got haircuts there, but he didn’t really get the reason why. Anybody could teach themselves that, right? It wasn’t like it was that hard.
“So, let me get this straight,” Eddie began, “You, Steve Harrington, are offering to cut my hair. No, better yet, you, Steve Harrington, know how to cut hair.”
He finished this with an incredulous look. Steve huffed. “Yes and yes.”
“Huh,” Eddie said, raising his eyebrows, “well then. I guess it’s settled. Got any plans tonight, Steven?”
“Nope, all free once I’m off in,” he glanced at his watch, “three and a half hours.”
Eddie smiled and began walking backwards out of the store, tapping the counter with his fingers before his retreat. “Alright then, I’ll be at the Harrington Barber Shop at six pm sharp. Looking forward to my luxurious appointment.”
Steve rolled his eyes, and waited until the bell rang again signaling Eddie’s departure, before he turned back to look at Robin. She was staring at him.
“What the hell was that?” she blurted. Right to the punch, typical Robin.
“What the hell was what?”
“You! You cut hair? You’re gonna cut Eddie’s hair? What the fuck?”
Steve wasn’t usually the last to the party on a lot of things, at most second to last, but right now he just felt completely lost. “Yeah, I’m gonna cut Eddie’s hair? It looks terrible, so I’m gonna fix it. I’m doing him a favor, I don’t understand why you look so insane right now.”
“You have to be kidding me, Steve-”
“What? I literally have no idea what is going on-”
“It’s Eddie! It’s Eddie’s hair!”
“Okay, and? I’m seriously not seeing a problem here. He’s my friend, and I’m helping him-”
“Friends don’t like, cut each others hair-”
“I’d cut your hair if you asked me to! I helped Dustin do his hair plenty of times, plus I just taught El how to do a curly hair routine. This is like, super normal behavior for me.”
Robin sighed and ran a hand through her slightly now less damp hair. “I knew you were a little oblivious, Steve, but I just didn’t think it was this bad-”
“What are you talking about! I swear to God, Robin, if you don’t just spit it out already I swear-”
“You like Eddie! Like, like-like him!” She yelled, sounding a little exasperated. “He flirts with you, you flirt back. It’s like a daily occurrence and I am, quite frankly, growing a little sick and tired of it. Not that I don’t love you Steve, I do, and I know this may be a sensitive topic because you haven’t like, formally come out to me, and I know its an important thing and I don’t wanna take away this opportunity from you, but I also don’t think you were trying to hide it either, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t tell me, although that’d be kind of a dumb thought anyway, but-”
She was rambling, and very fast. Steve tried to hang on to the words, but she was going a mile a minute and Steve was doing his best to play catch up. What he did catch was that Robin seemed to think he was flirting with Eddie.
“Rob- hey hey, Robin, stop, hold on,” he said, and Robin promptly stopped talking, “I’m not flirting with Eddie.”
Robin barked a nervous laugh. “Oh so now we’re just saying things. Okay, um, shoebox! Turtleneck! Shazam!”
Steve felt his cheeks go red, partly out of frustration, partly out of embarrassment. Where that embarrassment came from, Steve did not know. “I’m serious Robin, I’m not. And I don’t know why you think that to begin with, I’m straight.”
Robin stopped her flouncing of words when he said this, giving him the kind of face a dog would make when you say the words ‘wanna go for a walk?’. “Are you shitting me right now?”
“What? No, why would I be shitting you?”
She huffed, disbelievingly, “Steve I really- wow, I really thought you- wow okay,” She took a step back from the edge of the counter, “So you’re telling me that all those times I caught you checking out Eddie’s ass, or twiddling with Jonathan’s hair, or hell, just now putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder and whipping it back once he saw were all super straight activities?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Those aren’t even like, the gayest things I’ve done- not saying I did do those things- but I’m still straight.”
Robin stared at him, slack jawed. “What- what are the gayest things you’ve done?”
He titled his head back and rubbed his face. “I really don’t think this is that relevant right now-”
“No, you tell me the gay shit you’ve done or so help me-”
“Fine! Jesus Robin, fine. I threw a lot of parties in highschool, and me and Tommy would get pretty drunk, and the thing about Tommy is that he’s a handsy drunk, y’know? Like the ones who just kinda stick to your side. Anyways, usually we’d just end up in my bedroom, or one of the bathrooms, wherever, and just make out a little bit until we sobered up. It wasn’t a big deal, we’d never brought it up afterwards. Honestly I think it was just a friend thing, it helped him not get so whiny when he was wasted.”
Robin continued her stare, her eyes very, very close to popping out of their sockets in disbelief. He must have started to drool a little bit, as her mouth was still open, so she took the palm of her hand and placed it over her mouth. She started letting out heaps of laughter as she watched Steve. “Oh my God Steve, oh my-” she wheezed, “no one straight, and I mean no one, just does that everytime they get drunk. Once or twice, maybe, but everytime? Steve, you had parties like every weekend.”
He just shrugged. He really didn’t think this was that big of a deal. It wasn’t like either of them would ask for it outright either, it just would sort of happen, on instinct. They’d always manage to find themselves quartered off from the rest of the party for a little bit. And in his defense, it never went farther than just making out. Well, except that one time in their junior year when they happened to be in the bathroom and they’d apparently rubbed up on eachother enough to get both of them hard. The solutions: Steve just thought really hard about his grandmother, and Tommy requested a longer bathroom break to “take care of business”.
“Yeah, so?” he finally replied.
Robin’s face went red. She really looked like she was going to explode. “Do you think maybe, just maybe, Tommy might have had a crush on you?”
Steve laughed, the snort through the nose kind of laughed. “Are you kidding? No, no me and Tommy were just friends. He was with Carol anyway.”
“Steve,” Robin said, placing both of her hands on his shoulders, leaning in close, “Nobody makes out with their friends like that unless they’re secretly in love with them. I am saying this from experience.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, deep in thought. He supposed she was speaking from experience, having now been dating Nancy for about a month. During a drunken game of spin the bottle one night, after Steve had kissed almost everyone (including Robin, but they both gagged at the idea of their lips touching so they settled on a cheek peck), Robin’s bottle spin had landed on Nancy. They’d kissed, just a brush of the lips really, and they continued the game as normal. However, when everyone was just working off their last couple drinks, he’d caught them in the guest room making out. Nancy didn’t see him, but Robin did, and swore him to secrecy thereafter. Nancy and Rob had circled around the events for like two weeks, barely speaking and only sharing embarrassed glances, and after two long conversations with Robin about how he’s really truly fine with her flirting with his ex, he just locked them in a closet together during a movie night at his house, and let proximity do its work.
So maybe she was right. Maybe Tommy did have a crush on him.
He must have made this realization through his facial expression, because Robin just clapped and smiled. “Can I say I told you so? Is that the right time to do this? Or are you still processing?”
He honestly didn’t know. How are you supposed to react to information like that? How are you supposed to react when you’re suddenly coming to the realization that you maybe even enjoyed drunkenly making out with your best friend? How do you process that when someone else had to tell you before you made the realization? Needless to say, he was confused, so he took the idea, put it into a small cardboard box in his brain safely titled ‘unpack later’, and decided that the best course of action here was to move on. They had tapes to rewind anyway, because apparently, none of their customers could ‘be kind’.
Steve huffed. “Just, can we get back to work? I’m begging you to let me do my job. This is the one and only time I’m asking you to let me spend the rest of the shift actually doing work stuff.”
All he got in return was a smug look, a throw of surrendering hands in the air, and they got back to work. All he could think about was that cardboard box, taped up and covered in saran wrap, and how in the fuck he was gonna sort through all of that later. Much later.
The end of the shift came pretty quickly, and he took Robin home, her getting out of the car and giving him a “Go get ‘em, tiger” as Steve rolled his eyes. He blushed at that, and she laughed. He watched her as she entered her house, a protective impulse at this point, and only left when he watched the screen door slam as she entered, the front door shutting quickly afterwards.
The drive back to his house wasn’t the most fun thing he’d ever gone through. After his conversation with Robin, he was suddenly very aware of what he was about to do. The thought hadn’t even entered his mind when he’d offered, that maybe cutting his friend’s hair was a gay thing. And he still really didn’t think it was. It was just hair, just a favor. But then again, it was Eddie, but what did that even mean? Why did he care so much that it was Eddie’s hair he was cutting? Maybe it was the conversation earlier that was making him so nervous. So hyper aware of his actions. He tucked that nervousness into the cardboard box. Later.
He pulled up to the driveway, thankfully devoid of any banged up vans, and made his way inside. As soon as he got through the door, he hastily shrugged off his shoes and his vest, putting them somewhere near the door (he couldn’t be sure, they were on his body and then they weren’t. Besides, he was in the living room pacing now. It wasn't like he was gonna go back and look).
This was so stupid. God, this was so so stupid. There really was no need to make a big deal out of this, right? He was going to cut Eddie’s hair, and it was going to be fine, and Tommy has absolutely nothing to do with it, and Eddie isn’t like Tommy, and so it couldn’t possibly be the same thing, right? So what, maybe he did like kissing Tommy, but he was drunk, and again Eddie isn’t Tommy, so it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have Tommy’s freckles, or his stupid jacket, or his cruel humor. Eddie is all rings and tight jeans and electric guitar. Calloused hands and smug grin. So it couldn’t be the same. Not by a long shot.
But it could be different.
Fuck. Shit shit shit shit shit. Was Robin right? She wasn’t usually right, but then again she did also tend to be right, as much as Steve didn’t want to admit it. He tested the idea out in his head, imagining.
Eddie was touching him, slowly, cradling his neck. His hand was rough and Steve could feel his rings at the nape of his neck. He imagined Eddie’s other hands on his waist, pinching the skin above his hips. He imagined Eddie’s breath, hot on his face. And then fake Eddie was leaning in, the hand on Steve’s waste coming up to cup his cheek instead. He imagined Eddie leaning down, just slightly, to kiss him, soft and gentle. And then Steve opened his eyes, breathing heavily. And then the doorbell rang.
He tossed his head back and forth, attempting to shake the scenario out of his head. It had been… interesting, but it wasn’t something Steve could deal with right now. The idiot was standing on his doorstep, choppy hair and all. And Steve was supposed to be giving him a haircut. Ah.
He straightened the blue striped polo he was wearing, running his hands down his abdomen and taking a second in front of the mirror to ruffle his hair a little bit. It wasn’t looking great, so he wiped his hands down his jeans (they were sweaty, by the way), and returned them back to his hair, swiping over the front a couple more times. For what, Steve didn’t know (oh, he knew).
The doorbell rang again, and Steve jumped, startled by the sound. It was quiet for mere seconds while Steve was finally making his way to the door, and just before he had the chance to open it it began ringing incessantly, as if being pressed a mile a minute. Steve whipped the door open, finding Eddie’s finger slamming on the bell before he stopped, catching Steve's eye.
“Miss me that much, Munson?” Steve said, all charm and all confidence. And all confusion, he didn’t know where the hell that came from. Wasn’t he on the verge of a breakdown like two minutes ago? What the fuck?
He watched as Eddie rolled his eyes, feigning an amused irritability, but Steve saw the tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink. Hm.
“Hey man, you offered, I arrived. Not my fault you apparently can’t hear the doorbell,” Eddie replied, using his arm to lean himself against the doorframe.
Steve shrugged. “I was busy. Let’s just get this done, Munson.”
“Ah yes, into the salon we go!”
Steve ended up dragging one of the dining room chairs into the kitchen, laying a towel on the floor behind it and setting up his tools on the counter (and by tools, he means a pair of fancy hair cutting scissors, a comb, and a spray bottle filled with water).
He had Eddie sit down, gesturing the chair with a dramatism he figured he was putting on for Eddie’s sake, and got to work. He had decided to get straight to work, because after getting a closer look at what he had to perform damage control on, he knew he had his work cut out for him. He fiddled with Eddie’s hair for a bit, picking up the choppy layers and tossing them back down, circling him as he examined the brown locks. He caught Eddie giving him a few choice looks, a couple furrowed brows and a few smirks as Steve leant over him. Steve could feel blood rushing to his cheeks, so he swiftly returned to Eddie’s backside.
“Alright, well I guess it isn’t too bad,” Steve sighed.
“Don’t lie to me, Harrington. You know I have mirrors at home, right? I’m not that poor.”
Steve huffed a laugh. “Yeah okay, it’s bad. But it isn’t something that can’t be fixed, at least. Might take me a little though. You got anywhere else to be?”
Eddie shook his head. “Nope, cleared my whole afternoon for you, sweetheart.”
Steve began by spraying his head with the spray bottle, earning a few sputters and Jesus Christs from Eddie when he’d accidentally (on purpose) sprayed him in the face a few times. Eventually, when the hair was damp, not dry, not wet, he began sectioning off parts, trimming and shaping the hair as he went.
“So I’ll explain to you what I’m doing so you don’t like, freak out, okay?” Steve had said, before he had put his scissors to Eddie’s hair.
“Okay.”
Steve smiled. “Okay, so basically I’m just gonna be touching up the layers that they made when they cut it, and then I’m gonna touch up your bangs, and trim the sides of your hair by your face to like, frame it.”
Eddie spun around to look at him, a smug look on his face. “Frame it? You sure you don’t do this professionally, Harrington? Got a secret underground salon none of us know about?”
Steve just slapped his shoulder lightly, grabbing the sides of his head to point him back forward. “Shut it Munson, let me do my magic.”
The haircut was easier than he’d expected. Everything was going pretty smoothly, and he only had to tell Eddie to stop squirming three times. They were silent for the first half, before Eddie spoke up.
“Why did you offer to do this for me?”
He pulled back his scissors, in the middle of a chop. “What?”
Eddie sighed, and Steve could see him rubbing his hands together. “Like, to cut my hair. You didn’t have to do this man.”
Steve scrunched his eyebrows, then realized Eddie couldn’t see him, so he responded, “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t I offer?”
Eddie groaned, and leaned forward to put his face in his hands. “I don’t know man. Maybe it's just me, my brain or something I don’t know-”
“What does that mean?-”
“I dunno I guess I just had this vision of you in my head,” he spits out, lifting his head back up, still facing away from Steve, “King Steve, popular, rich, charming. Associated with the people that were always above me. And now I’m sitting in his kitchen, having him cut my hair after I got beat up by the shitheads he used to hang out with. I guess I just can’t understand why.”
He was at a loss for words. He supposed he gets it, right? He was a shit in high school, and Eddie has a right to be upset. But he also thinks he’s changed, at least enough to not be that guy anymore. To be better. And so he said, “You know I’m not like that anymore. And please don’t call me King Steve. I always hated that.”
Eddie took this moment to turn around to Steve, looking him straight in the eyes. It was like he was being studied. He thinks Eddie was trying to catch something on his face, trying to spot a lie. But there was no lie. “I know you’re not like that anymore,” Eddie said softly.
Steve nodded, a small nod, and he felt like there was an understanding in it. It felt like more than a nod. More of a confirmation. Eddie nodded back and turned around again. Steve got back to work.
It was a little after seven by the time he’d finished, finally happy with the final product. He’d fussed with it for a while, not quite pleased whenever he’d say he was done, pushing Eddie back down in the chair multiple times to retouch areas. Eddie had huffed and puffed everytime, clearly eager to be done. He was twitchy in his seat, middling with his rings and bouncing his leg up and down over and over again. However, Steve did eventually finish, and Eddie had practically jumped out of the chair to find the nearest mirror. He’d ended up in the same one Steve was using earlier, the one by the entrance. He’d looked in the mirror, a brief upset expression flitting across his face before he went back to a neutral one. Steve’s heart was beating fast. Didn’t he like it? Had Steve fucked it up? Jesus, Steve had fucked it up, hadn’t he?
“Is it- is it bad? Do you not like it?” Steve said, almost as if he was a small child getting in trouble with his parents.
Eddie swiveled around on the balls of his feet, facing Steve instead of the mirror. “What? No I just-” he turned back to the mirror and carded his fingers through his hair, tousling it, “it’s just… different.”
“Oh, okay.”
Eddie sighed, staring more intently into the glass. “I’ve just been growing my hair out for so long. It hasn’t been this short since I was in senior year for the first time.”
Steve laughed, and watched as a smile creeped up on Eddie’s face through the mirror. “Well, I’m glad that it wasn’t my lack of skills, at least. I would have been very heartbroken if you hated it because of me.”
Eddie turned around again, now stepping closer to Steve. They were about two feet apart now. “It looks lovely, Stevie. Thank you.”
He had a soft grin on his face, the kind where both lips are touching and the ends curl up to press into the ends of the cheeks. He looked almost peaceful. And he looked soft too, aside from the small cuts that littered his upper cheek and eyebrow from the fight. And Steve thought maybe he would like Eddie’s face despite those things, but he decided he liked it including those things. He wanted all of it, everything there was to be had.
Steve was thinking harder now, and he could feel his face contorting as he racked his brain, just now attempting to dig into those dusty old boxes he’d tucked away. It figured it was time, while one of the stupid boxes was standing in front of him, waiting for him to say something. But he couldn’t help it, it was like the boxes walked up to him like in a Disney movie. Steve was helpless.
And now Steve was trying to mutter out some words. He felt them in his throat, he knew they were there, they just weren’t coming out right, or in the right order. He wanted to tell Eddie he likes him, likes him a lot. His hair (even when it’s short), his hands, his voice, his mouth, everything, just everything, but that was too much, too much for two feet apart, so he said, “Tommy and I used to kiss a lot and I think I liked it.”
Steve widened his eyes at the same time as Eddie, the latter letting out a sort of strangled laugh, a blush creeping onto his cheeks. That same blush came full force on Steve’s face, burning hot and definitely noticeable.
“Oh- Okay? I’m… um… happy for you? I guess?” Eddie attempted, his voice strained. “But uh… Tommy? Tommy did it for you? He always kind of reminded me of a small rodent with a lot of spots-”
“Wait,” Steve interrupted, “That’s not- that’s not a problem? For you?”
Eddie’s face contorted into one of offense and amusement. “Darling, do I look like that would be a problem for me? I just don’t know why you told me all of a sudden like that.”
Steve let out a breath. At least it was okay. At least he was fine with it, that he wouldn't hurt him. But Steve knew this wasn’t the bottom of the box, and so he continued. “I told you because… be-because…”
Eddie reached forward, sensing Steve’s nervousness. He laid a hand on Steve’s upper arm, squeezing lightly. “Go ahead, sweetheart.”
He was breathing through his nose now, heavy, labored breaths. Eddie squeezed tighter. “I told you because I think I liked kissing Tommy. And I think- I think if I was kissing you, I think I would like it too.”
There was a beat of silence. Eddie was still gripping Steve’s arm, his mouth now in a thin line. They were just staring at each other now. Steve didn’t know if there was a silent conversation going on, and if there was, he had no idea what Eddie was trying to tell him.
But Steve didn’t have to wonder for much longer, because suddenly Eddie broke eye contact, letting go of Steve’s arm and backing away about a foot. “You don’t mean that, Harrington.”
He felt the use of his last name, a sort of punch to the chest. “Yes I do, Eds.”
Eddie shook his head, a sardonic laugh caught in his throat. “No you don’t. Maybe you liked kissing Tommy, because Tommy was your best friend, right? And he was rich and popular, and definitely not a… a trailer trash fuck-up with absolutely nothing going for him. A fucking loser, is what he wasn’t. He wasn’t anything like me, Steve.”
Steve took this as a moment to move closer. They were back to two feet apart. Eddie made no motion to further the distance. “I know you’re nothing like him. Believe me Eddie, I know that. That’s kind of the whole point.”
Eddie was looking at the floor, and Steve watched him raise his fingers to try and fiddle with the ends of his hair, and after realizing they weren’t there anymore, he moved his hands to his sides and clenched his fists. If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think Eddie was gearing up to sock him in the face.
But Steve, you just- you just can’t. It doesn’t make sense, for both of us. You deserve better than someone like… someone like me. Plus, you’re not even-”
Steve butted in. “I’m not what? Not what? Eddie, I may be new to the whole idea, but I don’t think you get to tell me what I am or what I’m not. Also, you don’t get to tell me if it makes sense, or that I,” Steve did quote fingers, “deserve better. You don’t tell me what I deserve. I can do that for myself.
Steve was closer now, about a foot away from him. Eddie had now looked up. He looked sad, and tired. All Steve wanted to do was make that face go away. To make it disappear and never return. He watched as a small tear dropped from Eddie’s eye, slowly falling down his cheek. Steve reached out slowly, placing his hand on Eddie’s cheek, cupping softly. He brushed the pad of his thumb across the apple of his cheek, swiping away the tear. Eddie shuttered at the touch, just slightly letting himself lean into the touch.
“I know I don’t. I’m sorry, I know. But you- are you sure? Are you sure you want this? That you even like men? That you even like me?”
Steve was quiet for a second. He thought about the boxes in his head, now all empty and scattered across the attic. It was like unpacking scientific research, testing hypotheses and proposing theories. And everytime, every single time, they all came to one conclusion: he liked men, and he loved Eddie.
“Eddie, I think- I think I’m in love with you. Does that help?”
Eddie let out a small laugh, finally letting himself fully lean into Steve, wrapping a hand around the back of his neck. “Yeah, I think… I think it helps a lot, yeah.”
They stayed like that for a moment, breathing in each other’s air, holding each other. Steve hummed, stepping ever so slightly closer to Eddie, their faces almost touching. “Eddie, I think I want to kiss you right now.” Steve said, barely above a whisper.
“You think?”
Their eyes bore into each other. “I know.”
Eddie smiled, a small toothed grin. Steve leant in, slightly brushing their lips across each other, methodically, before Eddie pushed forward, crashing their mouths together. The kiss began gentle and slow, small bits of spit swapping between them. Steve had both hands on Eddie’s face now, and Eddie kept one hand on the back of Steve’s neck, and the other came to rest on his waist, pinching his side. This was all what Steve had imagined before, but better. Better because it was real, and Eddie was in front of him making the most obscene sounds he’d ever heard, so he swiped his tongue on Eddie’s bottom lip, and he immediately opened up, the two of them beginning to explore each other’s mouths more vigorously.
It got to the point where Steve had gotten Eddie pushed up against the wall, running his mouth along Eddie’s neck, beginning at Eddie’s jawline and moving down to his collarbone. He heard Eddie laugh, or rather felt it, as his face was pressed up against his throat. Eddie’s Adam’s apple moved against Steve’s cheek. “Didn’t know you were this eager, Stevie.”
Steve just groaned against Eddie’s neck, earning another chuckle from the man. Steve kept going, until he felt a pressure in his groin, and as he looked up at Eddie, he knew he had the same situation. Steve ran his eyes over Eddie’s face, cheeks red and hair tousled. “I think we should go upstairs,” Steve whispered.
“You think?”
Steve grinned. “Oh, I know.”