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You have... five...new messages and no saved messages. First message received July 9th 1990 at 21:37pm. To play this message, press-

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"Hey, it's me. Uh - just calling to see if you were okay. I couldn't remember if you said you'd call me or if I said I'd call you, so - here I am trying to call. Sorry if you were like - going out tonight or something and I just - totally forgot or whatever. Uh - okay. Cool. I'll - talk to you tomorrow, I guess. See you. Bye. Oh, I love you! I almost forgot to say. Okay, bye."

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You have... four... new messages and one saved message. Second message received July 10th 1990 at 19:48pm.

"Hey. Me again. Just - checking everything's good? I hope work's been alright and not too stressful. I don't know why I'm asking you about work, you hate talking about work. Uh - good news! Robin and I are meeting with some contractors beginning of next week to finally start working on the club. That's cool. Happened a lot quicker than I thought it would. Robin's super psyched. I am too, I guess. Stressed mostly but excited. Anyway. I miss you. I know it's only been like two days, sorry. Gimme a call whenever. I love you. Bye."

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You have... three... new messages and two saved messages. Third message received July 11th 1990 at 16:32pm.

"Me again. I know you're probably not even home from work yet but I figured you'd probably check your messages when you get in because that's what you usually do. Look - can we, just - talk. I know we left things on a bit of a weird note but - I don't know. If you don't wanna do this anymore can you just - tell me. Please. I'm trying not to be an insane stalker weirdo but - I'm kinda losing my mind over here. I don't wanna be the guy that shows up at your door, Eddie. Please don't make me that guy. I hope you're okay. I hope - I don't know. Just call me when you can. I love you. Bye."

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You have... two... new messages and three saved messages. Fourth message received July 12th 1990 at the 18:42pm.

"Okay I'm officially in losing my fucking mind territory. You're either - dead or you hate me or you've suddenly left the fucking state or something and didn't tell me which, like - fine. That's fine you can do whatever you want but Jesus Christ, Eddie. You better not be fucking dead because I'll kill you. And if you're not dead and you're ignoring me then - well, then I fucking hate you. I don't. I don't hate you, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I just - hate this feeling. Tell me what to do, Eddie. Tell me to go away, tell me to come over, tell me you love me, tell me you never wanna see me again. Just - say something. This is stupid! You're - being really fucking stupid right now. Call me back you idiot. I love you. Sorry."

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You have... one... new message and four saved messages. First message received yesterday at 20:49pm.

"Hey, Eddie. It's Robin. Remember me, fucker? I'm gonna need you to call your boyfriend back, like - yester-fucking-day. We have so much shit to do here and he's moping all over the place and he won't shut the fuck up about you and wondering what he did or didn't do or whatever! I cannot take it anymore, I cannot be an agony aunt to another grown adult man. Call him back or I swear to God I am gonna castrate you in ways you couldn't even comprehend. And if Steve's right and you are dead then fuck you for not telling me. Asshole."

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***

"Well, well, well"- Robin goaded, kicking her feet as she walked towards Eddie. Her stony stare peered out beneath the rim of a white hard hat that sat crooked atop her head.
She had folded pieces of paper trapped beneath the elastic of her suspenders, fisting rolls of blueprints in one hand.

A haze of dust lingered in the air, catching the half-hearted light from bare bulbs strung up along exposed beams. Men in faded jeans and heavy work boots manoeuvred through the dim space, their voices raised to be heard over the relentless whine of drills and the clatter of tools dropping onto concrete. Eddie squinted through the noise, meandering towards Robin.

The place was full of tiny remnants of people—half-finished things, tossed-aside tools, a crinkled paper bag left on the edge of what was once the bar.

"Hey." Eddie responded meekly, kissing his teeth through his lips. He was mentally preparing for the rapture of expletives to spill out of Robin's lips.

"So you do know how to check your messages. Shocking." Robin snarked, standing before Eddie and drawing her arms into a tight fold against her chest.

"It has been known to happen, yes."

"You have to wear a hard hat to be in here by the way." She said cavalierly, cocking her head to signify the chaos around them.

"Yeah, no. I won't be doing that, thanks." Eddie shot back petulantly.

The sound of a drill roared to life a few feet away, and the guy using it didn't even flinch, just kept talking to his coworker about some random sports game as if that noise was nothing but background music.

"Well - I suppose it won't make much of a difference, given you're walking around like you have brain damage anyway." Robin said knowingly, raising an eyebrow. She raised her chin in this smug way that made Eddie's blood boil.

God he hated when she was right.

"Wow. A personal attack this early in the morning? That's unlike you." Eddie grumbled, indignantly.
He wasn't really looking at Robin anymore. Robin knew that he wasn't going to give her his undivided attention right now. Because she wasn't Steve.

Steve, who was nowhere to be seen at present which set Eddie's nerves on edge because he could crop up out of nowhere. He simply had to be prepared.

"Stop being an idiot." Robin seethed - lips pursed and whitening as Eddie continued to un-subtly crane his neck, peering behind her.

"Yeah. Working on it. I'm not just here for fun y'know. There's other ways I'd like to spend my time that doesn't involve me hanging around in demolished buildings." He bartered, head bobbing as his eyes widened in annoyance.

"I'm watching you." She stated, raising her pointer finger to the tip of Eddie's nose. Cross eyed, he could just about make out the chipped navy blue glitter polish.

"Ooh - I'm so scared." He mocked.

A sharp searing pain erupted from his breast bone as he stumbled back, immediately nursing the space that Robin's closed fit had met the flesh with his palm.
"Ow!"

"You should be." Robin seethed.
"If you make him cry during what will be the busiest period of our working lives I will cut your balls off in your sleep with a pair of scissors. Blunt scissors."

"What the fuck happened to you being a pacifist?" Eddie muttered under his breath as he continued rubbing the tender space.

Eddie's eyes flickered up to the space beyond Robin's shoulders as Steve swaggered into view, laughing and joshing with one of the construction guys. His lips firmed as Steve's gaze met his.

Eddie's hand immediately dropped to his side, conscious of showing any sign of weakness as he stood wide eyed and dumb.

He watched Steve choke down the shock, clearing his throat and laughing in response to something the other guy said. Even though Eddie knew he hadn't heard him. He was just nice like that.

And God, he looked abhorrently hot. Sure, bulky neon hard hats don't look good on most people. But him? It was nonsensical. His hand grasped onto a clipboard that hung limp by his side, the ligaments of his hand protruding ever so slightly. Jesus Christ.

He watched him writhe and become irritable, wanting to cease all communications with this guy and walk straight to Eddie. And Eddie kind of loved having that effect on him. Even if it was sick and twisted or completely depraved.

"Saved by the bell. Looks like your husband is finally free." Robin sang as Eddie didn't dare tear his gaze away from Steve.
"Do me a favour?"

"Huh?" He asked, halfheartedly.

"Get your head out of your ass so I never have to have this conversation with you again. You're single-handedly making me fail the Bechdel test everytime we speak." Eddie fixed her a bemused stare, taken aback.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

Robin sauntered off, not gracing Eddie with a response as Steve said some final parting words to the bearded man before taking his leave.

And Eddie braced himself. He held his position, heels planted into the rubble and dust. Posture straight and breath unwavering.

"Hi." Eddie said simply as Steve stood before him.

"Hi." Steve said. And now Eddie was kind of afraid. He didn't look particularly mad, though he definitely wasn't over the moon by Eddie's presence.

"You look very professional." Eddie said awkwardly, clearing his throat.

"I'm just holding a clipboard." Steve acknowledged, raising it as he furrowed his brows.

"Well - clipboards suit you."

Eddie watched as Steve huffed out a breath, eyes boring into Eddie's own.
"You didn't call."

It wasn't accusatory. He wasn't fishing for an argument. He didn't even sound all that surprised which made it just that little bit worse.

"No. I didn't."

"Why?" Steve pressed.

"I uh - I had to just"- Eddie stammered, glancing down at the floor as he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.
"I needed to figure some stuff out. And - I figured that what I needed to say is probably better said in person."

"Okay." Steve nodded.
"Care to share?"

"Well I was just coming here to say, that"-

As Eddie spoke, a drill roared to life nearby. It split the air with its high pitched scream - reducing Eddie's words to nothing more than exaggerated, silent mouth movements.
Steve stared at him blankly, eyes darting across his face.

"Sorry, you're gonna have to speak up." Steve hollered over the noise, his index finger helicoptering in the air.

Eddie waited for the anticipated lull, taking a deep breath as the room plunged into an echoey silence.
"I just came here to say that"- he started again, only to be thwarted by the sound of a whining saw.

He slammed his eyes shut, trying to maintain a calm conjecture as he ground his molars.
"I wanted you to know"-

A power tool revved to life from across the room as Eddie tightened his fists, hollering at the ceiling as though the sounds had their own malicious intent.
"Holy fucking shit, is this for real?"

"Hey! You need to be wearing a hard hat in here! Read the sign." A gruff, rotund man with greying stubble and a dirty hi-vis barked from across the room. Eddie's shoulders tensed, immediately on the defence as he opened his mouth to say something.

"Let's go outside a sec." Steve interjected, placing a firm hand on Eddie's shoulder as he manoeuvred him towards the back door.

Eddie begrudgingly dragged his feet, feeling Steve's palm press into his lower back as he forced the back door open with his hand. It slammed against the cool concrete wall outside as the two of them situated themselves in the back alley.

It was a narrow, grimy space littered with stale cigarette butts and broken pieces of wood. It definitely wasn't the place to have any kind of conversation but Eddie figured beggars can't be choosers.
He scuffed the toe of his boot against the dirt, not daring to make eye contact.

"Sorry - it's fucking crazy in there. Has been all morning."

"It's fine. I couldn't have come at a more inconvenient time, clearly." Eddie mumbled, peering out at Steve beneath his bangs.

"You would have known that if you'd bothered to speak to me. Then again I can't say I was too surprised at the fact you didn't." Steve shrugged, pursing his lips.
"Well. Go ahead."

Eddie inhaled, now feeling mildly comforted by the rumble of tools that still managed to punctuate their sentences. It made him feel less a vulnerable, somehow.
He took a few steps back, situating himself against the cracked concrete wall.

"I had some thinking to do about - everything. And - it was a lot harder this time around because for once I wasn't just thinking about myself. I had you to think about too. Which was - weird. And difficult." He rambled, feeling as though the words were tumbling from his parted lips like water gushing from a tap as Steve winced slightly.
"But good, obviously. I like - having you to think about. And - whatever choice I was going to make, I had to make sure that - neither of us were going to get hurt. Because - that's important to me. You're important to me."

"Okay." Steve urged, eyes twitching with a forlorn anticipation.

"And, after some thinking - I sort of - figured that not having you in my life at all is - well it's pretty shitty. It's really shitty. And to be honest - I don't need any more reasons for Robin to call me a fucking idiot." He blundered out an awkward laugh, still not managing to meet Steve's gaze.

"Oh, yeah. The list is pretty long I've heard." Steve nodded, folding his arms against his chest.

"Mm." Eddie hummed, sucking in his lips as he bit down on them with the harsh ridges of his teeth.
"So - if this is what you want and this is what makes you happy. Then - fine. I wanna be with you. And that means - being with all of your goals, passions and ambitions or whatever. Even if I don't wholly agree. So there. That's it. That's - what I came here to say. That's what took me so fucking long to figure out."

"Wow, okay." Steve let out a surprised cackle.
"Not how I thought that was gonna go."

Eddie faltered, staring at him in puzzlement.
"Why? What did you think was gonna happen?"

"I don't know." Steve shrugged.
"I thought you were coming here to - break up or whatever. I was like - mentally preparing myself."

Eddie scoffed - shaking his head as he lifted his foot and propping his heel up on the wall behind him, elevating himself.
"I'm an idiot but I'm not stupid."

Steve stayed quiet, compartmentalising. Eddie watched his facial expression shift as he allowed the information to wash over him.
"Really?"

Eddie frowned.
"Yes. I happen to be really intelligent"-

"No. As in, is this really what you want?" Steve asked.

"Yes."

"Are you"-

"I'm sure." Eddie interjected, nodding feverishly.
"I'm more than sure."

"Hm." Steve hummed, nodding slowly with a pout.
"Interesting."

"Interesting?"

"And what makes you so sure that I still feel the same?"

Eddie felt his whole body jolt as he damn near lost his balance.
"Uh - what?" He choked, his foot slowly sliding down the wall as his shoulder blades pressed into the harshness of the wall.

Steve was going off script. This was not how this was supposed to happen at all. They should be kissing by now. He thought about this moment about a hundred times and not once did he think Steve would respond like that.

"Well"- Steve began, pacing around in front of him.
"You ignored me for a week, didn't return any of my calls. You didn't come and see me. You completely avoided me. You just hid yourself away, which, is a classic Munson move. I mean - from my perspective it's kinda like I didn't even exist to you. So - I was practically left with no other option than to get over you. Quite quickly, in fact."

Steve stopped pacing, looking onwards at Eddie inquisitively.

"Get over me." Eddie echoed solemnly.

"And it wasn't easy, obviously. I mean it's a huge shame really. But - y'know - I'm a busy guy. I got things to do. Maybe we should just be friends."

Eddie wanted to self immolate where he stood. Spontaneous combustion, meteor falling from the sky. Anything.
"Sure, yeah - I mean - yeah. I get it. I was a complete ass. Obviously"-

"I'm kidding." Steve bit back a smile - enjoying watching Eddie squirm as he let out a ragged breath, head hanging low as he nodded.
"I can play hard to get sometimes too, y'know."

"You're kidding. Right. Yeah. S'funny, Steve. Good one." Eddie sighed, raising his head and letting his crown rest against the wall as he smiled in defeat.

Steve traipsed over to him, placing one hand on the wall beside his head as he stared intently down into Eddie's eyes. Eddie could have sworn Steve was never this tall before.

"Don't ever give me the silent treatment again. Asshole." Steve grumbled, nudging the tip of his nose against Eddie's as he gave him a thin lipped, self-satisfied smile.

"I am an asshole. I'm sorry." Eddie admitted, inhaling sharply. Desperate for the sharp smell of his cologne and hair gel to engulf his throat after an unnecessarily long absence.

"I mean it, Eddie." Steve admonished, allowing his hand to drop to his side but not stepping out of Eddie's space.
"I don't wanna be the insane guy that"-

"That shows up at my door? Yeah. You mentioned." Eddie smirked.
"Though - I hate to break it to you, Steve. You kinda are the guy who showed up at my door. You're pretty famous for that actually."

"Shut up." Steve bit, nose crinkling as he laughed.

Eddie raised his hand, thumb tracing across the rough of Steve's jawline.
"I meant what I said. I love you. And - if you have a problem with that, well - fuck you, I guess."

Steve let out another harsh laugh, head dipping as he peered at Eddie from beneath his brows.
"Oh - well. I guess I'm just gonna have to let you then." Steve sighed, feigning dramacy.
"I love you too."

He inched forward, lips brushing against Eddie's as Eddie instinctually keened forward, desperate for the connection before Steve pulled away quickly.
"You do really need to be wearing a hard hat in there, though. It's mandatory."

"Oh my God." Eddie groaned - eyes rolling as he watched Steve walk carelessly back through the door.

***

𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫

"Eddie can you move your ass!" Robin's shrill voice hollered from above him as she gripped the railing of the balcony above the dance floor.

Eddie, flustered, was busy removing stools from the tops of high tables dotted around the dance floor before pushing them underneath at a quickened pace.
"I am going as fast as I can, Robin!"

"Well - go quicker." She practically growled as she launched herself backwards and continued her journey down the spiral metal staircase, clanking with every step.

"Yes, your highness." Eddie muttered underneath his breath as he made his way over to the next table.

Though Eddie had been made privy to the entire re-development progress, he was still amazed by how unrecognisable the place looked.
It had transformed into a kaleidoscope of colour, every inch radiating a polished chaos that felt deliberately and perfectly over the top. It was the epitome of Robin in every way.

On every wall, TV's pulsed with your classic raunchy music videos timed perfectly to the low beat that throbbed through the speakers. The screens throwing flashes of bodies and glitter.
The intense pink and violet uplifting was practically making Eddie's head spin paired with the spotlights that spun and circled above him.

"Do we have enough change?" Robin asked breathlessly, slamming her hands down against the bar where Steve was situated, inserting quick pourers into bottles of alcohol.

"Yeah - I called the bank and got extra for the weekend."

"Okay, good. Smart. I like you a lot." Robin said firmly, pointing to Steve before her attention was immediately elsewhere.
"Jack, did you call the DJ again?" She barked as Jack appeared through the back door.

"Yeah, he's stuck in traffic." He shrugged, pushing the rim of his glasses up his nose.

Eddie sought comfort in the fact that whilst everything around him had visibly changed, at least he could still bicker with Jack like there was no tomorrow.
Especially now that Jack had accused him of going soft now that he was in a relationship. Eddie rebuked the idea in its entirety. He was exactly the same, except he had this permanent giddy feeling that he couldn't quite shake and smiled a lot more than he used to. But no, not soft. Never soft.

"I'm going to explode." Robin groaned, throwing her head back as she tore at her hair.

"You need to calm down. Everything is going to be fine." Steve soothed, shooting her a knowing look as if they'd had this conversation a million times.

They had, had this conversation a million times.

"God! Didn't your Mother's ever tell you guys not to tell women to calm down?" Robin bit as Eddie sauntered over to her side, pulling up a stool and taking a seat.

"No, she was too busy standing on street corners begging to bum cigarettes from strangers whilst I was in a stroller." Eddie said coolly as Robin rolled her eyes.

"Of course."

"Speaking of"-
Eddie began, shifting forward in his seat as he pulled a crumpled pack of Camels from his back pocket and waving them enticingly in front of Robin's face.

"I don't smoke." She said frankly, her nose crinkling in disgust.

"No harm in starting."

"You're not helping!"

"Yeah, that's like my whole thing!"

Steve turned around with vigour, chest puffed out as he placed his hands on his hips.
"Okay, the bar is stocked. I brought down like five more crates of Grey Goose. Jack's cut all the fruit, Meghan is grabbing some ice"-

"Where's Taylor?" Robin interjected.

"Toilet checks."

"Matt?"

"Emptying the trash."

"Okay, good. Great. That's great." She nodded maniacally, pursing her lips as she glanced around.

Behind him, the shelves were stacked with gleaming bottles in every colour imaginable. The fridges were full to the brim with glass beer bottles and fruity concoctions Eddie wouldn't dare touch with every label facing perfectly forward.

"I've done all the pre-shift checklist already. Speakers are all on the right volume, lighting's fine, TV's are all on the same channel. And I've already done all the petty cash forms so all the registers should balance out tonight just fine."

"I could kiss you." Robin gleamed as Steve made his way around the bar.
Eddie instinctually grabbed his wrist, pulling him into the space between him and Robin before wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Un-fucking-likely." Eddie admonished through gritted teeth as he placed a chaste kiss to Steve's lips as Steve giggled.
"You're so hot when you're in charge."

"Thank you."

"Don't be gross." Robin scoffed.

"Don't be gross." Eddie mocked, fixing her a look as Steve sighed having seen this exact thing play out dozens of times.

"You're a child!"

"You're a child."

"Stop copying me!"

"Stop"-

"Where do you want me?" An unfamiliar deep voice boomed from across the room. The three of them quickly averted their gaze to the frazzled looking man carrying a large speaker on his shoulder.

"Oh thank fucking Christ!" Robin cheered.
"We'll continue this later asshat." She growled, pointing at Eddie in an accusatory manner as he chuckled lowly.

"Stop pissing her off, she'll explode." Steve giggled as Eddie peppered kisses along Steve's jawline, arms still wrapped tightly around his waist as Steve's legs fit perfectly between the gap of his.

"Okay. But only because you said so." Eddie crooned, kissing him on the lips.

"You've got a queue building out there." A bouncer by the name of 'Greb' swanned through the front doors. He had a perfectly trimmed beard which juxtaposed his shiny bald head and a deep tan that made the tattoos curling up his forearms pop as though they would come to life.

The sound of the city and the rumbling of voices crept through the half open door. The occasional burst of shouting and laughter.

Steve turned his head, Eddie still hanging off of him like a koala as he kissed every inch of bare skin he could reach above the collar of Steve's ribneck T-shirt.

"If you could start ID'ing people before they get in and stamping hands that would be great. That way we can just get everyone in way quicker and prevent a build up on the sidewalk."

"You got it." Greb grunted, returning outside.

"Will you - stop!" Steve clamoured playfully, wriggling in his loose grip as Eddie was unrelenting in his public display of affection.

"No, I'm getting them all in now before I have to relinquish you to a bunch of cock thirsty gays." Eddie said simply, gazing up at Steve as he towered over him.

"You're so obsessed with me." Steve said - taking a hand and pinching Eddie's cheeks together with his thumb and fingers until his lips pursed, all reddened and spit slicked.

"Yes? Is that a problem?" Eddie retorted, words muffled as Steve laughed before letting go.
"Has the new back room been christened yet?" He asked, snaking his hands up Steve's shirt and squeezing the flesh of his waist.

"Behave yourself." Steve warned.

"Never."

"I'm nervous, why am I nervous?" Steve sighed, dipping his head as he rested his forehead against Eddie's.

"I don't know. But you shouldn't be. You guys have done great."

"Thank you." Steve said as he bit back a shy smile.

"I'm really proud of you."

"You are?"

"Mhm." Eddie hummed - raising a hand to guide Steve's cheek to guide him into a hot, deepening kiss.

"Guys! Less spit swapping and more - gusto!" Robin's agitated voice rang through Eddie's ears as he groaned, pulling away to glare at her.

"I don't even work here!"

"You get boyfriend privileges and free drinks which means you chip in. Those are the rules!"

"Yes ma'am." Eddie sighed, rolling his eyes as he clambered off of the stool.

"Those are the rules." Steve mocked in a hushed tone before making his way back behind the bar.

"Shut up." Eddie seethed playfully, jogging up behind Steve to slap his ass with speed as Steve jumped with a squeak.

"Okay, I think we're ready. Are you ready?" Robin asked, clapping her hands together as her eyes pleaded with Steve's.

"I'm ready. Are you ready?"

"Fuck, no." She let out a nervous laugh as she pulled at the ends of her hair, twirling strands around her finger.
"Alright, guys - places please!" Robin yelled. Eddie watched the team assemble themselves in a line behind the bar. Floor runners situating themselves by the glass washers, black trays readily in their hands.

"Tell Greb to open the doors." Steve smiled as Robin let out a giddy squeal.

***

The balcony offered a view that made the whole thing feel unreal. Eddie and Steve stood shoulder to shoulder, a drink hanging limp from the tips of Eddie's fingers as they took it all in.

Below them, the dance floor was packed, a sea of bodies moving together under the swirling lights. The music was so loud it felt like it was coming from inside his chest. A heavy, pulsing rhythm that never let up. Neon strobes bathed the crowd in washes of pink, blue, and yellow while the massive TV screens flickered. The bar glinted like a prism, every surface reflecting the riot of colors around it. There was a constant hum of laughter and shouts, people shouting along to lyrics blended seamlessly with the thundering bass.

Eddie had never really paid much attention to the sense of community before. He'd never had to. He got by on tunnel vision and his sex drive. But he understood it now. He understood the joy and the empowerment they must feel from being free to be themselves. He'd witnessed it first hand with Steve but for the first time he was really seeing it.

"Robin was gonna get rid of this in the refurb." Steve eventually said, voice elevated as he ran his fingers along the metal.

"What? The railing?"

"Yeah." He shrugged.
"She thought it was gonna be too damaged to keep and she was gonna replace it. But - just needed a lot of cleaning. So I convinced her to keep it."

"Why?"

"Because it's where we had our first conversation when we met here. So - I wanted to keep it. Exactly as it is." He smiled, letting out a singular chuckle.
"Spent hours and hours with a scrubbing brush and paste, I thought the skin on my hands was gonna come off."

"Wow - never thought I'd have such an emotional attachment to a hunk of metal." Eddie nodded, taking in the sentiment as he repetitively slapped his hand against it.

"Or a hunk in general." Steve quipped as Eddie scoffed.

"Alright, settle down." He scolded jokingly, knocking his shoulder against Steve's.

He took a sip of his drink, attempting to lean back inconspicuously but failing.

"What?"

"Just checking your ass looks just as good as it did then." He said, cavalierly.

"Does it?"

"Yup. If anything I'd say it's better."

"That'll be the squats. Working on the glutes."

"Ah, yes. Of course. And I thank you for that." Eddie gleamed.
"Would you like an early Christmas present?"

"Really?" Steve practically gasped, eyes glinting with excitement.
"Yes. I like presents."

Eddie held his glass out for Steve to take as he fished around in his back pocket.
"I was gonna give it to you later back at mine, just as like - a kinda full circle moment after the first night of the club being reopen. But - seems more fitting to give it to you here."

Steve physically flinched in horror as Eddie presented him with a small, burgundy velvet box.
"Are you proposing to me right now?"

"No!" Eddie's voice cracked in surprise as he analysed the box, rotating it between his fingers.
"I mean - I don't think so. I hope not. Now I'm second guessing the implications."

"Should I be scared?" Steve laughed as a sense of dread filled Eddie's chest.

"It's like uh - I don't know what they call it. Something super gay like a pr"-

"You got me a promise ring?" Steve practically gasped, eyebrows sloping upwards in awe.

"Yeah, that's the one." Eddie grumbled as he begrudgingly held it out for Steve to take, hastily grabbing his drink from his other hand and taking a swig.

"For real?" Steve asked, curiously and slowly opening the box with an adoring frown.

There wasn't anything particularly special about it. It was just a simple, silver band. If anything he would say that his choice was definitely a bit too hasty but he just wanted to get away from the overwhelming interrogations from the guy at the jewellers.

"Yeah. Why?" Eddie asked quickly.
"Is that like - lame? Is it lame? You can tell me if you hate it"-

"That's so High School." Steve giggled, biting down against the tip of his tongue. He was literally belly laughing this was humiliating.

"Oh for - I'm taking it back. Forget it, it was a stupid idea." Eddie snapped - attempting to snatch it away from Steve's grip as Steve protested, clinging it tightly against his chest with a pout.

"No. It's mine." He bartered, breaking out into a grin.
"I love it."

"You're sure?" Eddie asked, still feeling that uncomfortable whelm of self consciousness.

"Thank you." Steve said, genuinely.
"You big softy." He teased, reaching up to ruffle Eddie's hair as Eddie instinctually swatted him away like a rogue fly.

"Do not ever do that to me again or you won't have any hands to put it on." Eddie scowled, patting his hair down before leaning forward against the railing again.

"Seriously. I love it. It's so cool." Steve said, resting his chin against Eddie's shoulder with his mouth close to his ear.

"Yeah - well, y'know." Eddie said simply.

"What?"

"Just so you know I'm like - all in. Or whatever." He shrugged awkwardly, feeling the vibrations of Steve's laughter against his skin.

"Or whatever. Mister cool guy over here." He teased.
"I'm all in on you too."

"Good." Eddie said, taking a sharp intake of breath as he stood up straight again.
"That would have been super awkward otherwise."

"You not gonna put it on me?" Steve asked, plucking it from the box and holding it out for Eddie to take.

"I mean - sure." Eddie muttered awkwardly as he took it tentatively between his fingers, taking Steve's hand in his.

"No. You have to get down on one knee." Steve chastised before erupting into another fit of giggles as Eddie threw his head back in frustration.

"I'm literally never doing anything nice for you ever again." Eddie firmed, pushing the ring onto Steve's finger down to the knuckle with a scowl.

"I love you." Steve said sweetly, kissing him.

"I love you too." He resided as Steve threw his arm around his shoulder.

"Pizza?"

"Fuck yeah, pizza. I am starving." Eddie heaved out a sigh as the two of them began walking to the metal staircase. 

"Allegro or Home Slice?" Steve asked - teetering behind him, shouting over the music with his hand on his waist.

"Allegro. No question!"

"That's just not correct. Home Slice all the way!"

"You're wrong! Allegro have a better topping selection." Eddie bartered as the two of them stood bickering at the bottom of the stairs.

"Home Slice's deep dish is to die for. Allegro's is too thin."

"Fine. Home Slice then." Eddie said in defeat as his fingers hugged Steve's wrist, guiding him through the crowd before abandoning his empty glass on the bar.

"Relationships are all about compromise." Steve snarked as they exited the club, Eddie feeling grateful for the chill of the sharp winter air.

"That was not a compromise, that was me just caving so you get what you want." He acknowledged, tilting his head to the side and shooting Steve a glare.

"Exactly."

***

"This is fun in the Summer but way less fun in the Winter. You realise that, right?" Steve acknowledged, hugging his knees tight against his chest as the two of them looked out at the vastness of Indianapolis atop Eddie's apartment building.

The two of them bundled into their respective coats, sat side by side with a gap just large enough for a box of pizza and a bottle of Jim Beam to sit plush between them.

"How can it not be fun? We have like - the entire city in front of us right now. We have pizza and we have alcohol. Can't get more fun than this." Eddie said, peeling open the lid to the pizza box as he and Steve took a slice each.

"A toast to you." Eddie said, extending his slice as the molten cheese dangled in the air.

"To me? Why me?"

"Because - you put your mind to something and you succeeded. Against all odds. That's something to be proud of, and I'm proud of you."

"Oh - well in that case. Cheers." Steve smiled, edging the tips of their limp pizza slices together

"Cheers." Eddie echoed, taking a bite.
"Never doubted you for a second." He acknowledged through chews.

"Mm, I don't know about all that." Steve murmured, wiping grease from his chin.

"I didn't!"

"You told me we should board the place back up and skip town when I blew a fuse putting the lights up."

"Yeah, well"-

"You also laughed in my face when I didn't insert the pump into the back of the glass washer properly and it flooded the bar."

"Okay, I doubted you - a small handful of times."

"And also"-

"Ah - let's not spoil the moment." Eddie interjected.

"Fine." Steve grumbled, finishing his pizza slice in silence.
"Can I ask you something?" He asked through chews.

"Obviously."

"Do you remember the first time we slept together?"

"Funnily enough, yes. I do. I was there."

Eddie watched Steve visibly hesitate as he discarded his crust into the box.

"What?" Eddie chuckled.

It always made Eddie smile that Steve was so adamant he couldn't eat the crusts of things because someone told him once that it makes your hair curly. He felt the need to ask once he had witnessed Steve cutting the crusts from his sandwiches.

He had tried explaining to him that it was an old wives tale and not something to be taken so literally. That was until Steve pointed out that Eddie eats his crusts and his hair is curly.

Touchè.

"And I told you I loved you. Like - I hadn't seen you in five years or something and - we didn't even really know each other. I just - told you I loved you."

"I do remember that, yes." Eddie urged inquisitively.

"And you said it back."

"I did."

"Why?"

Eddie huffed, dusting crumb remnants from his hands flippantly.
"Baby, it was - months ago. Why are you asking me about this now?"

Baby was a new thing.

It was an accident, really. Eddie wasn't typically one for pet names. They didn't come naturally to him. He didn't even really like nicknames all that much aside from his own.

Him and Steve weren't pet name people. The occasional Ed's would slip from Steve's lips which was fine. Plenty of people called him that.
Robin had started calling Steve 'Stevie' and it made Eddie want to dry heave.

But then there was this one night, Steve and Eddie were laying on Eddie's couch watching a movie. Well - the movie had finished around half an hour ago but Eddie was far too comfortable with Steve's head resting on his chest and their legs intertwined to even think about moving.

Steve would nudge his forehead under Eddie's chin and laugh at his incoherent mumblings as he stirred from his sleep, urging him to get up and go to bed. He'd bat him away and tell him to stay where they are. And at some point, unbeknownst to Eddie, an 'I'm fine right here, baby' had slipped out.
He felt Steve stop still in his tracks, looking down at him in awe whilst Eddie squinted one eye open. He just looked so - happy. So content. Eddie had to remind himself to do it more just to see him smile like that.

He was still learning how to be a boyfriend. He panicked more about things than he let on. Trivial things. Sometimes he panicked if he woke up and didn't feel butterflies because it would mean he'd have to break Steve's heart, but they would always come back. He'd panic about whether or not he was showing Steve how much he loved him enough or if he could be doing more. He panicked that every argument over something stupid would be their last and Steve would get sick of him and leave.

Robin would tell him it was normal and it's just human experience. It would provide some temporary relief, and God he loved Steve even though he couldn't always say it. He would try to show him any way that he could.

"I don't know, I just"- Steve shrugged.
"I was talking to a couple of the new kids working at the bar and they were interested in how we met and whatever. Big fans of us actually, it's kinda cute. And then I - well, I had to embellish a bit because - reasons. And then I just started thinking about it."

"I said it back because it's polite." Eddie snickered.

"Don't joke."

"I'm not!"

"Screw you." Steve scoffed.
"Seriously!"

"I'm serious! Imagine if I'd just - ignored you. It would have been super fucking awkward. I never would have been able to finish. I'd like - wake up in the middle of the night for the rest of time in a hot sweat or something." Eddie said flailing his hands around as he succumbed to Steve's stern stare.
"I don't - know why. Why are you hassling me about this all of a sudden?"

"Because it was so easy for you. To just - say it back then. But - you couldn't any other time. Like - when it was serious. I've just always thought about it, I guess."

He seemed saddened by this concept and it made Eddie's stomach lurch.
"It bothers you that much?"

"It doesn't bother me. I just - wonder. I like knowing how your brain works."

"Well - like I said at the time. It's sex talk. I mean - I thought that's what it was for you, anyway. That you were into that or whatever. People say all kinds of crazy things when they're getting railed. So - you have to take it with a pinch of salt sometimes." Eddie said coolly, picking at the skin of his fingers.
"But - in terms of it being easy for me - I guess, yeah. It was easier for me to say it when it wasn't real. When we didn't have anything worth losing because I didn't know you and you didn't know me. We couldn't hurt each other because we had no ammunition. It just - existed in that space with us in that moment and it was completely innocent. There was no - coercion or jealousy or bitterness or manipulation or whatever other shit happens in relationships."

"Not our relationship." Steve clarified with a small smile.

"Not our relationship." Eddie echoed in agreement.
"I couldn't say it when it really counted, because - I knew there would be no going back. Like - once it's out there it's out there. You could do whatever you want with it. You could have made my life a misery if you wanted to because - I would have let you."

"That makes sense." Steve nodded.

"Mm."

"I think I said it because - I don't know. I felt like one way or another I would love you. Like - I could feel it. Everything just - felt right with you. So - might as well get it out of the way."

"You're adorable." Eddie smirked.

"Shut up." Steve laughed, picking up another slice of pizza as he looked out at the city, taking a bite. His shoulders hunched up to his ears in his puffer jacket, jaw flexing with every chew.

And Eddie just couldn't tear his eyes away from him.

"Move back in with me." He said as though it was the most casual thing in the world.

Steve's eyes widened, choking lightly as the pizza slice hung limply from his fingers. He discarded the half eaten slice on his lap, clutching his chest as though he was clutching at a string of pearls.
"What?" He swallowed hard, pupils darting across Eddie's face.

"You heard."

"W-really?"

"Yeah." Eddie clarified.
"You're here all the time anyway so - makes sense. For your convenience, rather than having to move all of your stuff between places constantly."

"For my convenience?" Steve bartered, teasing him as Eddie rolled his eyes in defeat.

"I would like it a lot if you moved back in with me. If you want to."

"That's better."

"I'm trying."

"I know you are, and that's why I love you and I would love to move back in with you."

"Good."

"But"-

"Mm no. Don't like that. Let's not do that." Eddie disputed as Steve tilted his head with a knowing smile.

"Eddie - I know you like your own space. Y'know I'm fine with coming and going at weekends so you get some alone time. I don't want you to feel obligated to make gestures you're not totally on board with. I'd hate for you to - feel suffocated."

And Eddie couldn't argue that there was a time in his life where he had in fact, felt suffocated by Steve Harrington. How he had wished to be able to wake up in the morning and for him to be gone. And now Eddie couldn't bear being apart from him.

Going to work felt futile. Coming home to an empty apartment made him feel like his chest was going to cave in on itself. Hanging up the phone after their daily call and being plunged into silence was like having tinnitus. The absence of feeling him breathe against him felt like he was stuck in a sensory deprivation tank, halfway to nowhere.

It was all just unbearable.

"Steve Harrington." Eddie announced, clambering up to his feet and situating himself in front of Steve who looked up at him with a perturbed expression.
"Steve Harrington."

"What? Stop saying my name like that you're freaking me out."

"I thought you would know this by now but clearly I've been doing a shitty job of reminding you." Eddie lamented, traipsing around in front of Steve with his hands on his hips.

"Reminding me of what?" Steve asked.

"That - my God, I will never not be surprised by how much you make me wanna get out of bed in the morning."

"You know how nervous it makes me when you stand too close to the edge." Steve winced as Eddie waved his arms around dramatically whilst waxing poetic.

"You could be standing on my chest holding a ten tonne weight and I'd sooner accept my fate than ever feel suffocated by you."

"Such a wordsmith. Could that perhaps be the whiskey talking?"

"No." Eddie said, holding his hand out for Steve to take as he hauled him up from his seated position.
"This is stone cold, one hundred percent, free range, wholemeal, organic Eddie Munson." Eddie declared, standing nose to nose with him.

"You're insane tonight."

"Insane about you."

"Oh, God." Steve cackled in disbelief.

"Move back in with me." Eddie repeated, holding Steve's cheeks between his hands.

"Eddie"-

"No. No Eddie's, no buts." He ordered, pressing a firm kiss to Steve's lips.
"Say yes."

"There's just - lots of things to consider! I have to give Cheryl enough notice to find a new flatmate"-

"Ugh. Enough of the logistics." Eddie whined.

"I have to change my address on everything again, I'd have to put half my stuff in storage"-

"Would it help if I said how much I love you?"

"I just"-

"I love you!" Eddie yelled, tilting his head back all the way like it was some sort of battle cry.

"Eddie! You're gonna wake the whole fucking state up!"

"I don't know. I don't think they heard me, actually."

"Eddie"-

"I love you Steve Harrington!" Eddie roared, feeling the words scratch and tear at the back of his throat.

"Okay! Stop!" Steve cried out, holding Eddie's shoulders as they laughed.
"I'll move back in with you. Fuck!"

"Good."

"Good." Steve repeated as Eddie rested his forehead against Steve's.

"I wasn't pressuring you was I? Do you feel pressured? You really don't have to if you don't want to"-

Steve interrupted him with a kiss.
"Quiet." Eddie broke out into an uncontrollable grin as Steve's hands worked their way under his coat and wrapping around his waist.
"I want to. If you want me to."

"I want you to."

***

"You know what I absolutely hate?" Eddie asked aloud, chewing on a small handful of crackers as he watched TV. He lounged along the plush leather with his legs kicked up, a stack of pillows behind his head as he watched some random ass black and white Christmas movie. It almost distracted him from how itchy his torso was in the Christmas jumper Steve had forced him to wear.

"Most things." Steve grumbled from the kitchen.

"Sure, but - no. Christmas carols." Eddie lamented, not tearing his gaze away from the screen.
"They just don't make any sense. They barely even qualify as music. I mean - ding dong merrily on high, what even is that? And then you've got the whole twelve days of Christmas shit. What can anyone possibly need eight maids milking for? Nine ladies dancing I understand because there's a market for that. People wanna see hot chicks dancing."

Steve didn't say anything, but Eddie could hear the dulcet tones of a knife repeatedly hitting the chopping board.

"And then you've just got the even stupider ones like - Grandma got run over by a reindeer. She was an old ass lady walking around blind drunk in the snow, at night, might I add"- 

"God - fucking - bastarding - ballsack - cunt!" Steve yelled.

"No I don't think I know that one." Eddie retorted before hauling himself up from the couch.
"What'd you do?"

"Cut my stupid finger." Steve seethed through gritted teeth as he stood with his fist enveloping the injured finger whilst clutching it against his chest.

Eddie's apartment was alive with the scent of roasting vegetables and something potentially burning. The potatoes boiling on the stove top were close to overflowing.
The counters were a disaster. Flour dusted across every inch like heavy snowfall, herb sprigs scattered haphazardly, and an open cookbook sitting precariously close to a bowl filled with something vaguely sauce like.

"Hey - he's not stupid. He happens to be one of my favourites."

"I need a plaster." Steve said, disregarding his comment as he maniacally stepped around the space.
"No - I don't have time for a plaster. Shitting - Christ!"

"Steve, will you slow down?" Eddie said, holding Steve by his shoulders. He noticed a streak of batter on his face beneath his crimson flushed cheeks.

"I can't slow down, Eddie. If I go any slower we won't be eating until midnight. I'm already way, way behind because you insisted that I stay in bed longer."

"You were up until three this morning staring at that dumb bird!" Eddie argued as Steve stood squeezing all of the blood flow out of his finger.

"I was checking on it while it moistened!"

"I got jealous! It's way more voluptuous than me!"

"I'm glad this is all just one big joke to you." Steve shot back petulantly as Eddie was immediately filled with a sense of guilt.

"Oh baby, don't do that"-

"I am working my ass off to make this dinner perfect and you're just here with your - annoyingness and your muchness." Steve said, holding his palm out and shoving it in Eddie's face.

"I know you are. And it's so appreciated." Eddie said sincerely, grabbing Steve's wrist gently. Steve wriggled out of his grip, walking over to the tap to run his finger underneath the cold water.
"And so unnecessary." He muttered under his breath.

"Eddie!" Steve whined, whipping around in annoyance.

"I'm just saying! Wayne would be more than content if you shoved a microwave meal in front of his face and stuck a football game on the TV. He wouldn't speak for like four hours, happy as a clam. He'll be conked out before you even whip out the dessert upright on the couch."

"It's not just about Wayne. It's about you, too! Us!" Steve yelled, flailing his arms around as droplets of water shot across the room.
"This is our first Christmas together and I just - need it to be perfect."

Eddie tilted his head to the side, taking several steps toward Steve as he rubbed his hands up and down his arms in soothing motions.
"Okay, fine. You've charmed me. How can I help?" Steve sighed, poking his bottom lip out.
"Would you like a blowjob to soothe your jangled nerves?"

"If I don't have time to put a plaster on my finger what makes you think I have time for a blowjob?" Steve tsked, relinquishing himself from Eddie's grip as he went back to the warzone.

"It's fine. I'll just kneel in front of you while you chop carrots or something. I'm flexible. You won't even know I'm there."

"Get out of my kitchen." Steve deadpanned as Eddie held his hands up in defeat.

"Heard, chef." He said, stepping out of Steve's space as he went back to heavy handedly chopping carrots.
"Do you still love me?"

"Unfortunately." Steve grumbled under his breath, not looking over at him.

Eddie still took it as a win.
"Good."

Steve had dressed their apartment in every form of festive cheer known to man. Twinkling lights carefully snaked around the artificial Christmas tree, stockings were nailed to the wall in the absence of a fireplace. There was an annoying garland that hung from the window leading to the fire escape with little golden bells that jingled whenever the heater kicked in. 

Steve was insistent on making it special. And Eddie just - let him. He didn't intervene he just watched all of the new developments happening around him. The twinkling lights felt like they were in a language he didn't quite understand.

Eddie would smile at Steve when he tightened a ribbon here and adjusted an ornament there, it just never quite reached his eyes.
He'd never had this before. Not really.

Wayne tried to make Christmas as special as he possibly could with their very limited means. But as Eddie got older, it usually meant that Wayne would be working for the whole of Christmas at the factory so it wasn't necessarily something he looked forward to the way other people did. They usually got each other just the one gift and it was never anything too extravagant. Always something convenient that they knew the other needed.
Eddie was content with eating a tub full of iced cookies, a tin of pineapple rings and watching whatever bullshit was on television. They didn't even decorate, there was no room.

But now he was in this cozy, picturesque Hallmark movie and his apartment smelled like artificial gingerbread.

Eddie could tell that Steve was searching for a reaction from him every-time he did something like tuck a few small presents under the tree. He knew Steve knew he was forcing it. It was just an overwhelmingly alien sensation.

The two of them froze at the sound of a repetitive knock at the door.
"Jesus Christ!" Steve hollered, dropping his knife as Eddie made his way over to the door.
"I haven't even finished the canapé board yet!"

Eddie opened the door to see Robin stood with a gleaming smile. Cheeks flushed pink from the wind, snowflakes clinging to the end of her mousey brown bangs and melting into darkened streaks that stuck to her forehead.
"Oh - it's fine it's just Rob."

"Merry Christmas to you too, asshole." Robin scoffed. She placed a sizeable gift bag down by the tree, loosening her scarf and shaking off the chill as she acclimatised to the warmth of the apartment.

"Steve's having a nervous breakdown, don't mind him. Come over here to the fun section. I have alcohol and chips with dip." Eddie winked as she kicked off the boots that had been leaving faint, wet prints on the floor.

"Will you stop snacking on those? I literally told you an hour ago to save room." Steve snapped, wielding the knife around.

"Ah, yes. Twitching eyes, sweaty upper lip, a positively heinous posture. I've seen this one before." Robin sighed melodramatically as Steve rolled his eyes.

"Can we save him?" Eddie asked in a scratchy southern accent, clutching his chest.

"Think we need to cut our losses. He's a goner."

"Damn. I liked him. Oh well." Eddie shrugged, kicking his feet up on the coffee table as Robin stripped herself of her coat.

"Oh well?" Steve echoed in shock.

"I'm kidding, baby." Eddie clarified with a chuckle.

"Riddle me this, Eddie. If I died how long would it take you to move on?" Steve asked with one hand on his hip as he squinted at Eddie judgementally.

"Uh-oh." Robin sang, teetering in the middle of the room and picking up a cracker from the plate.

"Because I have my answer."

"Why do you even have an answer for that? I've never even thought about it." Eddie asked.

"Well - floors yours."

"I don't know!" Eddie cried out before suddenly realising that both parties were looking at him rather expectantly.
"Like - a year? Two years?"

"What?" Steve practically screeched.

"Ouch." Robin mumbled, awkwardly nibbling on the edge of the cracker as she peered out at the scene in front of her beneath her bangs.

"What! You asked!" Eddie retorted, contorting his body to look at Steve.

"Two years? A measly two years is how long it would take for you to move on after I died tragically?" Steve exclaimed, completely deserting the task at hand to scowl at Eddie from across the room.

"Woah - you never said anything about tragically."

"I'm literally twenty four. Obviously it would be tragic."

"I wouldn't get back into a relationship per se. Maybe just - flings or whatever. I wouldn't care for them the same way I do for you!" Eddie bartered, attempting to save face as Robin and Steve shared a look that got his back up.

"Wow." Steve said lowly, tongue tracing across his lower lip.

"There's lots of logistics to this question. How long had we been together before you died? If it's like ten years then that's different."

"Is it?" Steve asked, nonchalantly.

"Oh come on. You're telling me that if you died you would never want me to have sex ever again?"

"You wanna know how long it would take for me?" Steve enquired with a sense of pride.

"Go on."

"The rest of my life. I would be celibate for the rest of my life if you dropped dead right now."

Eddie let out a cackle, rolling his head across the back of the couch in disbelief.
"Oh fuck off. Right now? At this exact moment? We've been together for like - however many months."

"You don't even know how long we've been together?" Steve asked, aghast.

"N-no. I do." Eddie said defensively.

"When's our anniversary?" Steve asked casually.

Eddie stared blankly at him, mentally calculating.
"Mayy"- he started as Steve frowned.
"Be-June-ly?"

"Unbelievable." Steve scoffed.

"Slow your roll a second buddy - why are you turning this around on me? All I'm saying is that you have the sex drive of the energiser bunny so I'm finding all of this a little hard to believe."

"Well - we're learning a lot about each other today." Robin acknowledged - awkwardly kissing her teeth as she continued to stand still in the middle of the room, caught in an unexpected crossfire.

"And all I'm saying is that you're acting very casually about my hypothetical death." Steve said scornfully.

"It's fine, how dry is the turkey? Might be able to put it to the test later." Eddie snarked, screwing his nose up at Steve.

"For your information it is not dry. I followed the recipe perfectly." Steve argued, gesturing to his surroundings.

"I need more friends who are girls I've realised." Eddie heard Robin mutter to herself.

"Steve you would want me to move on. You're selfless like that."

"Oh yeah, my dying wish whilst I'm laying mangled in the road after being hit by a truck is for you to get laid again."

"Literally what goes on inside that head of yours?" Eddie asked with mild concern.
"Robin, am I being unreasonable?"

"I'm not getting involved. I can't comment on what's unreasonable in this life." Robin shrugged.

"Steve all of this could be very easily avoided so long as you keep looking both ways before you cross the street like a good little boy. You can even hold my hand if you want." Eddie teased as Steve squinted at him in defiance before turning away.

"He's gonna break up with you y'know." Robin said frankly as Eddie scoffed.

"He is not gonna break up with me. He's committed to me."

"You see a rock on this finger?" Steve hollered, holding the back of his hand up and waving it around.

"No. But I can give you a rock on whenever you like, sweetheart." Eddie smirked, winking at Steve.

"Oh my God." Robin whined, collapsing next to Eddie on the couch.

"Don't choke on your crackers, asshole." Steve shot back as Eddie continued making kissy faces at him.

Another knock at the door damn near sent Steve into cardiac arrest.
"God!" Steve screeched, metal trays clattering.

"You're being so dramatic." Eddie scolded, traipsing over to the door and cavalierly flinging it open.
"Welcome to the shit show." Eddie sang as Wayne curiously looked him up and down.

"A shit show, huh." Wayne echoed in his scratchy Southern accent, nodding slowly. He entered the apartment, a large plastic carrier bag hanging from his fingers. Eddie always liked how he walked with the swagger of a chief of police but without the build of one.
"Robin." Wayne nodded to her as she gleamed in response.

"Good to see you again, Wayne." She said chirpily from her position on the couch.

Steve wildly exited the kitchen and situated himself in front of Wayne and Eddie like an excitable puppy.
"No, no. No shit show here, sir. Eddie's just kidding - everything's under control, sir. Just a - fun Christmas joke." He laughed through gritted teeth.

Steve quickly cleaned wiped his hands down his sweater, holding out a mildly quivering hand for Wayne to shake who looked at it in bemusement.
"We still doin' these formalities, son? I thought we was past all that by now." Wayne chuckled as Steve visibly panicked, retracting his hand.

"Oh - no, of course. Sorry."

"And it's Wayne, boy. Just Wayne."

"Absolutely, sir - Wayne."

"Sir Wayne. Suits you." Eddie mocked, nudging his elbow against his Uncle's.

"He been tormentin' you?" Wayne asked.

"I'm shocked you'd even ask that question." Eddie said, aghast.

"Don't be." Wayne grumbled.
"This boy looks like he needs a drink." Wayne said, voice strained as he hauled the carrier bag up onto a free space atop the kitchen counter.
He lowered the sides of the bag, revealing a twenty four pack of Bud.

"He's come bearing gifts!" Eddie announced, reaching to tear at the cardboard.
"Beer isn't really my first choice but tis' the season to get fucked up, I guess."

"Ah." Wayne slapped Eddie's hand away with a scowl.
"First of all, boy - I am the gift. Second of all, you can have one when you do somethin' useful." Wayne firmed as Steve snickered beside him.

"I've - been useful." Eddie's jaw fell slack in shock.

"Let me guess, Steve. He's been sat on his ass all mornin' stuffin' his face and making snide comments."

"Wow, it's like you've been here this whole time." Robin chimed in, grinning at Eddie.

"Okay, I don't like - this - whatever's happening here." Eddie announced, backing away and scowling at the faces in the room.
"Need I remind you that my name is on the lease of this apartment. I invited you all here. I'm not being ganged up on under my own roof."

Steve reached for a plate - funnelling a cracker topped with cream cheese and salmon into Eddie's mouth, taking him by surprise.
"You're being so dramatic."

***

The rest of the day unfolded like a montage of mismatched pieces. Wayne, Robin, Steve and Eddie all under one roof. Moments that didn't quite fit together perfectly but somehow felt whole.

Eddie had never anticipated he would ever have anybody he could bring home to Wayne, let alone spend Christmas with. And it just - worked. It was effortless.

Eddie sat at the head of this small, wobbly dining table Steve had brought home from a thrift store one day upon realising they had nowhere to seat people. He had insisted they set it with proper plates and cutlery, even though they were eating in an apartment barely big enough to fit the four of them.
Wayne grinned across the table, a little overwhelmed by the sheer spread of food Steve had put together: roast vegetables, a glazed ham, turkey breast, mashed potatoes so creamy they looked suspiciously store-bought.

Dinner was messy in a way that only made it better. Wayne told stories about Eddie that made Steve laugh so hard he nearly spilled his wine, and Robin would chime in with sarcastic quips that made him roll his eyes but secretly love. They reminisced on Hawkins, high school, the grumpy old people who used to run the stores on the boulevard.
Eddie didn't eat much, not because the food wasn't good—Steve had worked his ass off, and it was delicious—but because it was strange to sit at a table like this, surrounded by people who felt like home but who couldn't be more far removed. He took smaller bites, watching the way Steve's face lit up when his uncle complimented his work or the way Robin teased Steve about the slightly burnt carrots.

After dinner, the plates were abandoned on the counter tops and they migrated to the couch. The tree's glow replaced the harsh light of the kitchen. Robin suggested a movie, but instead, they flicked through holiday specials, stopping on some ridiculous, cheesy rom-com so saccharine that it made Eddie outwardly groan. And of course, Steve would say he was being a buzz kill and Eddie would let him.

Eddie made a point of telling them all not to take the gift giving too seriously, in which they surpassed all mediocre expectations.

Steve insisted on going first, handing Eddie a box that was suspiciously light. Eddie raised an eyebrow as he unwrapped it, only to pull out a pair of socks with cartoon guitars on them.

"Really? Socks? Has our relationship died this much of a death already?" he deadpanned, but Steve grinned triumphantly and pointed to the label: "Extra Warm for the Perpetually Cold" written in bold letters. Steve laughed whilst Eddie rolled his eyes.

Eddie's gift to Steve was equally underwhelming—or so it seemed at first. Steve unwrapped a small, cheap-looking keychain shaped like a taco.

"What is this?" Steve asked, laughing as he held it up.

"Press the button," Eddie said, smirking.
Steve did, and the keychain emitted an obnoxiously loud "OLE!" followed by a mariachi tune. Steve's laughter turned into something uncontrollable, and he immediately attached it to his keys, declaring it his new favourite possession.

Eddie bought Wayne a mug to add to his endless collection that said, "World's Okayest Uncle."

"You know this isn't ain't true," Wayne said, shaking his head and pretending to look offended, but Eddie just grinned.

Steve, on the other hand, had picked out a selection of hot sauces for Wayne, varying in strength which Wayne thought was the greatest thing in the world. Last time he had seen him all he could talk about was how much he missed having the time to make his signature buffalo ranch wings.

"Now you have no choice. You have to make them." Steve shot him a smug smile.

"I'll make 'em. But only if you come over to watch the Colts game with me one Sunday."

"Absolutely!" Steve exclaimed excitedly.

And God, Eddie loved him so fucking much it made him want to dig his nails into his skin and never let go.

Robin's gift to Eddie was arguably the weirdest: a rubber chicken that squeaked far too loudly.

"Well - you have spent the better part of this year being one" she said with a shrug, setting it off repeatedly just to watch Eddie wince every time it squawked.
In retaliation, Eddie handed her a jar of pickles with googly eyes stuck to the glass—her least favorite food.

"Merry Christmas," he said with mock sincerity, earning a glare that dissolved into laughter.

Wayne fell asleep before dessert, his head tilted back and mouth open. Steve leaned into Eddie's side, his warmth steady and grounding, and Eddie rested his head on top of Steve's without thinking, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

A few hours later, Steve served up a very misshapen pie with ice cream. Wincing every time someone asked what the pastry patterns were supposed to be.

Eddie caught himself smiling a few times—those small, unintentional moments when he let himself really feel it. It wasn't perfect. It didn't feel entirely like his, not yet. But when he glanced at Steve, watching the movie with a satisfied, tired smile, Eddie thought maybe it didn't have to be perfect. Maybe it just had to be this: a table filled with food, a couch filled with people, and a quiet, flickering understanding that this was what he'd been missing, even if he didn't quite know how to hold onto it yet.

"Oh, Steve!" Robin announced with a mouth full of pie as she scarpered over to her coat pocket, fishing out a white envelope.
"Some lady dropped this off at the bar for you the other day."

"Lady?" Steve asked inquisitively, wiping his mouth before taking the envelope from Robin who resumed her position on the floor.

"You got a hottie on the side I need to worry about?" Eddie teased as Steve analysed it with furrowed brows.

"Not that I know of." He said hesitantly, tearing it open.
"Oh - a Christmas card." He said chirpily, immediately opening it.

"Who from?" Eddie asked.

Eddie watched his eyes scan the words, his face falling with every passing second until he looked as though he was in an insurmountable amount of pain.

"Steve?" Eddie urged as Steve shot to life, standing up with a start.

"'Scuse me." He muttered, wasting no time in rushing off to the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

"What happened? I glanced down at my plate for like - five seconds." Wayne grunted, ice cream dripping from his beard.

"Jesus, Rob. What was it? A fucking ransom note?" Eddie seethed.

"I don't know. I didn't open it!" Robin cried out, holding her hands up in a defensive manner.

"Who was the lady? What did she look like?"

"I don't know - like - rich? She didn't really stay long enough for me to ask questions. She just - asked if there was a Steve working here, I said yes, she gave me that and left!"

And Eddie didn't really need to ask any further questions.
"Jesus." He grumbled, getting up from his seat on the couch and heading to the bedroom.

He rapped his knuckles against the door tentatively - slowly opening it to see Steve curled in on himself, lying on his side and facing the wall.

"Steve?" Eddie asked, closing the door behind him as he stepped carefully across the floor as though he was treading on a minefield.
"Steve - baby"- Steve didn't respond, instead he continued to stare ahead of him.
"Talk to me. What's the matter?" Eddie said soothingly, kneeling against the mattress as he scooted himself closer.

"It's from my Mom." Steve choked out, the Christmas card nestled under his chin with an iron grip.

Eddie sighed, entirely unsurprised.
"What does it say?"

"Read it if you want. I don't care." Steve snapped, handing Eddie the card without looking at him.

Eddie leaned back against the headboard, clearing his throat as he analysed the perfect, cursive handwriting.
"Dear, Stephen. I do hope you are keeping well. Very formal."

"Mm."

"I have wanted to make contact countless times, but have always been unsure as to how due to not knowing where you are now. I did, however, hope you maybe still had connections at the club or friends who could give you this on my behalf. I hope this finds you well. I wanted to let you know that your Father and I"- Eddie's eyes widened.
"Oh Jesus."

"Keep going." Steve said dismissively.

"Your Father and I settled our divorce last month. This is due to issues that we felt we could no longer overcome as a union. I do not feel that our values aligned any longer but know that this was not an easy decision for us to make, and one that I hope doesn't come as too much of a disappointment to you. Disappointment my fuckin' ass." Eddie said scornfully.

"Please know that since you left you have been in my mind and I would be keen to see you in the New Year if this is something you would be open to. I am still living at home so my number is the same should you wish to call. I am wishing you a Merry Christmas wherever you may be and to whoever you may be spending it with. Mom." Eddie pursed his lips, taking a deep inhale as he closed the card.
"Okay, well - it's definitely the most loaded Christmas card I might have ever read. She could have just said Merry Christmas like everyone else and left it at that."

"It's all my fault." Steve said quietly.

"What?"

"I ruined their relationship. It's my fault. They got divorced because of me."

"Hey. No, no - we aren't doing this. This isn't on you."

Steve immediately sat up to face Eddie - his cheeks and nose reddened, eyes glazed with tears.
"It's true."

"Steve"-

"I ruined their marriage because I'm gay, Eddie. It's glaringly obvious. Years upon years of marriage and a family destroyed in a matter of months because of me. That's literally what she said without saying it."

"Okay - so maybe it did." Eddie resigned.

"What?" Steve shot back.

"Maybe who you have sex with was the catalyst for the breakdown of their relationship and that's what we're working with here. And if that's the case, what fucking relationship that's good for anybody is so fragile that someone's sexuality is going to completely dismantle it from the inside out? Riddle me that." Eddie said matter of factly as he watched Steve analyse the concept in real time.
"Are you gonna see her?"

"Don't know." He shrugged.

"Okay, well. You don't have to know right now. You can think on it for a while. See how you feel in a couple days, yeah? Get New Years outta the way, start afresh." Eddie said softly, rubbing his palm against his spine.
"If you don't want to see her you don't have to. You don't owe her anything. You know that right? I can burn the card and we can pretend it never happened."

Steve sat in silence for a moment before quickly coming alive again, startling Eddie.
"What am I doing? This is so fucking stupid. I'm so sorry." He said, flustered as he dragged his hands down his face.

"What is?"

"This day was meant to be perfect and I'm - fucking ruining it by being totally depressing. I'm fine. Everything's fine. It's all fine." Steve spoke frantically as he gleamed at Eddie.

Eddie placed his palms against Steve's cheeks, forcing him to meet his line of sight.
"You could never ruin anything. Hear me when I say that. This is the best Christmas I have ever had and it's all because of you. We could have been eating saltine crackers on a park bench and it would have been perfect."

"You're just saying that." Steve mumbled.

"When have I ever seemed like the kind of person to just say things willy nilly?" Eddie asked, edging his face further forward.
"That reasonably priced hunk of metal on your finger isn't just for outfit accessorising, y'know. It's because I love you and that's not changing. It's a placeholder until those old ass white men in charge let us get married and I can run your ass down the aisle." Eddie urged, dropping one hand and allowing his thumb on the other to drag across Steve's cheek.

"Those are some strong words from the man who can't even remember our anniversary." Steve laughed.

Eddie huffed indignantly, hands falling into his lap as he maintained a stern gaze.
"July 18th. We went to see Ghost at the movies. You were wearing your red and blue striped t-shirt with your blue jeans and you had to wear your glasses because you had a headache. I remember because I made fun of you and said you looked like Where's Waldo. You ordered a slushy and red vines. It made your tongue purple. You cried. I told you I didn't cry when actually I did. We were walking through the parking lot and you made me promise I'd haunt you if I died first. I said of course. We came back to the apartment and you said your feet hurt because of your new sneakers so I filled up a bowl with warm water for you and you said 'I'm so lucky to call you my boyfriend.' I said 'well, actually that's the first time you've ever called me that' and you said I guess that makes us official."

Steve didn't say anything, he just smiled.

"I remember. And for the record, it would take me way longer to move on than two years if you died. I think - I was trying to act all tough cos people keep calling me soft or whipped." Eddie grumbled.

"Well - I like it when you're soft." Steve said quietly.

"Soft it is then." Eddie nodded decisively.
"You ready to come back out?"

"Do I look bad?"

"Nah. C'mere." Eddie cooed, scooping Steve's hair out of his face and attempting to place it back into the perfectly coiffed state it's usually in.
"There. Perfect."

Eddie and Steve made their way back into the livingroom again, Steve with his shy smile following closely behind Eddie like a startled puppy.
"Sorry guys."

"Are you okay?" Robin asked, eyes full of concern.

"Yeah. Perfect. Everything's perfect." Steve nodded genuinely, collapsing back onto the couch with Eddie's hand in his.

***

The apartment was eerily quiet now, the kind of silence that felt heavier after a day filled with noise and laughter. Torn wrapping paper and empty glasses littered the coffee table. Eddie was crouched by the couch, lazily stacking plates and crumpled napkins onto a tray. His eyes kept flicking to the kitchen, where Steve was standing by the sink, unmoving.

Steve's back was to him, his shoulders hunched slightly as he stared down at the sink full of plates. The light cast a pale, yellow glow over him, the tension in his body enough to make Eddie's chest tight.

"Let me do those." Eddie said softly - coming up behind Steve and snapping him out of his trance, the plates clattering against the surface of the counter top.

"Nah s'fine, I made the mess." Steve replied, clearing his throat and giving Eddie a small smile.

"You've done enough." Eddie said frankly. He placed his hands on Steve's hips, forcing him to face him as he looked back at him with tired eyes.

"Did you have a nice day?" Steve asked.

"Did you have a nice day?" Eddie countered.

"Yeah. I did."

"Then I had an amazing day." Eddie gleamed, snaking his hands around Steve's waist and pulling him into his space.

"It wasn't too much?" Steve asked, now with mild worry.

"What?"

"I know that - I don't know. Maybe I was being kinda pushy with it. I just wanted to - make it nice for you. I'm sorry if it was too much"-

"It was perfect. You're perfect. You could never be too much for me." Eddie interjected, and he hoped Steve realised he wasn't just talking about one day in the year.

"Okay." Steve nodded.

He looked so small in the quiet of the kitchen, his usual confidence dimmed. He wanted to say something, to fix it, but he couldn't. He didn't know how to untangle years of shit wrapped in a single card—his own or Steve's.

"New idea." Eddie said finally as Steve quirked an eyebrow.

"Mm?"

"Let's make this tomorrow's problem and go to bed."

"But it looks so bad." Steve whined, rolling his head against his shoulders.

"Hey, guess what? I don't give a shit. It can wait." Eddie ordered.
"I can take care of it but right now I wanna get you to bed and take care of you."

"Oh, okay." Steve smiled this big toothy grin as Eddie's hands found Steve's. He tugged him out of the kitchen, trying to navigate the walk to the bedroom backwards and after ample units of alcohol.

"Are you picking up what I'm putting down, chef?" Eddie teased as Steve laughed.

"Okay, but only if you do all the work."

"Nothing new there, Princess." Eddie scoffed.

***

New Year's Eve felt like it had too much expectation in the air, the kind of night where everyone was trying too hard to be excited, to make it perfect.
Eddie could tell from the start that Steve wasn't feeling it. But he decided to make the effort for Steve, to provide him with some kind of distraction so he wasn't moping around the apartment. So Eddie took him to Robin's apartment for a party with her roommates and a bunch of other people Eddie didn't know.

Steve laughed at people's jokes and smiled at the right moments during the party, but it wasn't real—not the kind of laugh that lit up his face, not the kind that Eddie loved. Steve's eyes lingered on the floor when he thought no one was watching, and Eddie didn't miss how his shoulders sagged just a little more as the hours ticked by.

It wasn't a surprise when Steve leaned in close, his voice barely audible over the music and chatter.

"Can we leave?" he asked softly, and Eddie didn't hesitate.
They said goodbye to Robin, dodging her protests with promises to make it up to her, and slipped out into the cold night. The walk home was quiet, the streets mostly empty except for the occasional burst of fireworks in the distance. They didn't dare hold hands, just walked shoulder to shoulder with their hands in their pockets until they reached the safety of the apartment.

When they got home, they didn't bother turning on the lights. Steve peeled off his jacket and toed off his sneakers before heading straight to the bedroom, and Eddie followed.
There was no big countdown, no toasts or group hugs. Just the two of them slipping into bed, the blankets pulled up tight around them as Steve curled into Eddie's side. He didn't say much, just rested his head on Eddie's chest, his breath steady but heavy, like he was holding something in.
Eddie ran a hand through his hair, holding him close, whispering, "Happy New Year," even though it didn't quite feel like the words fit. Steve didn't answer, but his hand curled around the skin of Eddie's waist, and that was enough.

January came quietly, with gray skies and the hum of routine.

The phone calls started just after New Year's, always late at night, when the apartment was quiet and Eddie was pretending not to listen. Steve would sit on the edge of the bed or in the kitchen with the lights off, speaking in a low, measured tone that felt too careful for comfort. Eddie could only catch fragments—Steve's voice tight with something he wouldn't call anger but wasn't far from it, pauses where his Mom's words must have been cutting deep enough to leave marks.

Eddie didn't ask about it, not at first. He just watched as Steve grew quieter, a little more distracted. He knew Steve was working something out, and Eddie wanted to give him space. But it was hard—he hated seeing the tension in Steve's shoulders when he hung up the phone. The way he'd sigh like he was trying to exhale a lifetimes worth of being misunderstood.

Then, one morning, Steve told him outright.
"I'm gonna go and see her."

It was simple, flat, like he'd decided it without really deciding. Eddie didn't argue. He didn't ask what he planned to say or if it was worth it. He just nodded and asked, "When?" because that felt like the only thing Steve needed.

Steve left the next afternoon, and Eddie spent the day pacing the apartment, pretending he wasn't waiting for the sound of Steve's key in the door. He tried to distract himself with music, then TV, then cleaning the already-clean kitchen, but nothing worked. His ears strained at every sound from the hallway, every distant thud or voice, hoping it would be Steve. He couldn't shake the image of Steve sitting across from his mom, trying to fill the space between them with words that probably wouldn't be enough.

Or worse. It was all a complete setup and they've kidnapped him and shipped him off to the military or conversion therapy.

When Steve came back that evening, Eddie could see the exhaustion in his face before he even spoke. His hair was mussed from the wind, his coat still undone, and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

Eddie shot up from the couch and hovering by Steve. He had tried to look casual but failing as his voice wavered with concern.
"Hey! I was getting worried. You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't think we'd be out that long. The coffee shop shut hours ago so we just - walked." He stripped himself of his coat with slow, deliberate movements, hanging it up on the hook and toeing off his sneakers like he was too drained to do anything else.

"How was it?" Eddie asked, following Steve as he moved toward the couch.

Steve shook his head in response, as though he was still trying to process it. He stepped past Eddie, collapsing onto the couch like his legs couldn't hold him up anymore. Eddie perched beside him, leaning forward slightly, his eyes scanning Steve's face.

For a short while, Steve didn't say anything, just leaned back and stared at the ceiling, his jaw tight and his hands fidgeting in his lap. Eddie let the silence hang, resisting the urge to fill it.
"Weird. But - fine."

"Weird?"

"She's so different without my Dad. She's like - I don't know. Just happier, I guess. Which is good, but - still weird." Steve's voice faltered slightly, and he glanced at Eddie, his lips pressing together in a tight line.

"Course." Eddie murmured, leaning back and resting his arm along the back of the couch.
"What'd you guys talk about?"

"God - everything really. Just - everything I've been doing since I've not been at home. My job at the club and where I'm living and whatever. She knew about the fire, she read it in the paper." Steve paused, his lips twitching into a faint, humorless smile. "Said she was like - scouring to see if I'd died or something."

"Ah well - it's the thought that counts." Eddie's attempt at lightening the mood earned him a quiet chuckle from Steve, but there was no life in it.
"How's she doing?"

"Honestly? Great. She has like - this new lease of life about her. She stopped going to church, stopped going to her awful socialite clubs. In so very few words she basically said my Dad must have had too many drinks one day and told someone that I was gay and it sort of - spread. But she chose to leave. I think she was just sort of over it by that point." Steve exhaled, his fingers tapping lightly against his thigh as he spoke.
"She plays pickleball now."

"What the fuck is pickleball?" Eddie blurted, his brow furrowing in confusion. Steve shrugged in response.
"Interesting."

"But - it was nice. I've never really spoken with her one on one like that before. It was like - meeting someone for the first time. She said she's got a couple of new friends so I don't have to worry that she's horrifically lonely. Told her all about you obviously." Steve's tone softened, his eyes flicking to Eddie's face with a small, almost shy smile.

"Go figure, you can't help yourself from being my number one fan."

"She'd like for us all to go to lunch one day or something. So she can meet you properly, get to know you better."

"Sounds not at all terrifying." Eddie said with a dry laugh.

"Honestly you'd barely even recognise her. I didn't realise just how much that man had a hold over all of us until he wasn't in the picture anymore. Everything about us both is so - different."

"Do you feel like you could have an actual relationship with her?" Eddie asked, his voice cautious.

"I think so, yeah. It'll be awkward for a while but - I feel like I should try, at least."

"What about your Dad?" Eddie asked, his tone dropping, the tension creeping back into his posture.

"Nothings changed there. Still an asshole, still working at his firm, still being miserable. Apparently he's got a new girlfriend. Way younger than him, obviously. He moved out of the house and got his own bachelor pad which probably helped his case."

"Classic." Eddie muttered, his lips curling into a sneer.

"Mom's taken it well though. Well - if she isn't she's hiding it well."

"No, I'm glad. This was the best case scenario for me whilst I was sitting here panicking you'd been kidnapped and shipped off for conversion therapy."

"No. Don't worry. Still very much gay and very much here." Steve said, his lips quirking into a tired smile.

"Just the way I like you." Eddie replied, his voice softening as he placed a hand on Steve's knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Oh - yeah. And there's this." Steve's tone shifted, his weariness replaced by a wary hesitation as he pulled an envelope from his pocket.

Eddie's eyes locked onto the envelope, his stomach twisting as he braced himself for whatever was inside. He could tell from the way Steve's knee bounced that whatever he was about to say was going to land like a bomb.
"What's this?"

"This - is a cheque for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars." Steve finally pulled the envelope open and slid out the cheque, holding it up like it might bite him if he held it too long.

Eddie froze - leaping up from his seat his jaw dropping and his hands falling slack at his sides.
"I'm sorry - it's a fucking what?"

"Yup." Steve nodded, his expression unreadable.

His voice came out uneven, disbelief dripping from every syllable.
"W-what?"

"Mhm." Steve hummed, nonchalant, but Eddie could see his knee bouncing, his fingers tight around the envelope like he wasn't sure whether to shove it away or hold onto it for dear life.

"Why? How?"

"My Dad is a very smart man. But not smart enough to have a totally ironclad prenup because he doesn't believe in divorce - figured he wouldn't need one cos it's totally unheard of in his family. So - given he amassed most of his assets during their marriage including all of the shares and stocks in other companies, not only is my Mother a new pickleball fanatic she's also 1.5 million dollars richer."

Eddie blinked. The words sounded like something out of one of those stupid daytime soap operas Wayne used to watch when he was home sick from school.
"Jesus fucking Christ."

"She said it's, like - reparations or something. For, you know, the whole - kicking me out thing," Steve said, his tone dipping into sarcasm.
"It's supposed to help me start fresh."

Eddie couldn't help the way his hands balled into fists at his sides.
"Reparations," he repeated, the word bitter in his mouth. It ran across his brain like nails on a chalk board.
"So, what - she just writes a cheque and calls it even? Like two hundred and fifty grand magically fucking erases everything?"

Steve flinched, the cheque still dangling from his fingers.
"I mean, I didn't ask for it," Steve said defensively, his voice rising, too. His shoulders hunched slightly, but his chin stayed up.
"I didn't want to take it. I tried telling her no. But - she said she wanted to help"-

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, pacing a few steps before turning back to him.
"Help with what? With pretending none of it happened? Steve, they threw you out! They made you feel like you didn't deserve—" Eddie stopped himself, his voice breaking as his chest tightened. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, trying not to explode all over Steve when none of this was even his fault.

Steve looked down at the cheque, his jaw tightening.
"I know it doesn't fix anything. But - I don't know, maybe it's her way of — trying."

"That's not good enough," Eddie snapped before he could stop himself.
"I mean - Jesus Christ, Steve. Do you not think it's a little late for that? She wasn't trying very hard while she sat there watching your Dad go all psycho on you."
The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and sharp, and Steve slammed the cheque down on the coffee table like it had set itself aflame and it was burning the pads of his fingers.

"What was she supposed to do, Eddie?" Steve's voice cracked as he looked up at him, his eyes burning, his body taut like a wire about to snap.

"I don't know - protect you! Be a mother! That's what mother's are supposed to do!"

"You saw the way he treated me." Steve countered, his voice shaking.
"You saw firsthand how he spoke to me. What he thought of me. How much he — hated me. What I am. He was treating her the same way, whether she realised it or not at the time. He - cheated on her, demanded things from her. Expected her to be at his beck and call and never step out of line. Never complain."
"We were going through the same thing at the same time. I just never - realised. I saw them as a team, like they were out to get me. When really, she didn't even have a choice."

Eddie allowed the words to wash over him as he compartmentalised. Perhaps he was projecting. Perhaps Eddie's idea of what a mother should be was black and white, hinging on the fact that Eddie's mother was about as useless as a denim tap shoe.

"Fucking rich people, man." He groaned before looking at Steve again. He looked back at Steve, his voice softer now, no less intense.
"I just - I don't want her to think she can buy you off," he said, his voice softer now but no less intense.
"You're worth more than a fucking cheque, Steve. If she wants to step up and be a mom now she needs to realise that."

Steve didn't answer right away, just stared at the envelope on the table.
"I know," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Eddie sighed, crossing the room and sitting down beside him. Close enough that their knees touched, close enough that Steve would know he wasn't angry at him, never at him. He still felt the flicker of anger, but it was quieter now.
"I'm sorry for yelling." Eddie said after a beat, his voice soft and warm.
"I'm - not mad at you, baby. Never at you. I'm mad for you."

"It's okay. I know." Steve said, offering him a small smile.

Eddie smirked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I've never seen that many numbers on a piece of paper before that wasn't some ugly guys phone number." Eddie joked as Steve snorted, shaking his head.
"What are you gonna do with it?"

"Ah - I don't know. I don't even know if I'm gonna cash it. It feels - tainted." He inhaled, letting out a puff of air between his cheeks.
"I don't wanna talk about it anymore if that's okay. I'm just - tired."

"Course. That makes sense." Eddie said softly, resting a hand on Steve's thigh.

"I just wanna - lay. Vegetate. Be with you and not all wrapped up in the insanity of my parents."

Eddie leaned in, pressing a kiss to Steve's temple.
"We can absolutely do that."

***

The days that followed were heavy with unspoken tension. Steve wasn't really sleeping.
Eddie would wake up in the middle of the night to find the other side of the bed cold and empty.

One night, Eddie crept out of bed and found Steve sitting on the couch, hunched over with the warm light from a single lamp casting long shadows across the space. Eddie's Walkman was balanced precariously on one knee, the faint hiss of a cassette tape filling the room. Eddie could just about hear the melancholy strains of whatever dulcet tones Steve could get his hands on leaking from his headphones.

The cheque lay untouched on the coffee table, half-hidden under an old magazine, like it was trying to disappear. Steve didn't look up when Eddie came in, his fingers absently tapping against his thigh in time with the music, his face unreadable but somehow still so achingly sad.

He lowered himself onto the couch beside Steve, careful not to make too much noise, but even so, Steve flinched, jolting upright.
"Jesus."

Eddie smirked, settling back against the cushions.
"No, though I can see the similarities."

"You scared me."

"Whatcha listening to?" Eddie asked, tipping his head toward the headphones.

Steve sighed, tugging them off and letting them hang around his neck.

The faint strains of a sad melody from The Smiths could be heard from the padded foam.
"Ooh - not doing good, huh?"

"Mm."

Eddie studied him, taking in the shadows under his eyes, the tight line of his mouth, and the way he seemed so small despite his broad shoulders.

"Y'know it's gonna be really hard for me to introduce you to people as the person I wanna spend the rest of my life with when you're just a sack of loose flesh on the floor because you refuse to sleep."

Steve let out a soft chuckle.
"Sorry."

"No it's fine, I heard eye bags are all the rage these days."

Steve shook his head, looking down at his hands.
"My brain won't let me sleep."

Eddie turned toward him fully, stroking his fingers tentatively through the length of Steve's hair as he immediately settled into his touch, leaning back against the couch.
"Well there's only one thing for it. Gonna have to take it out. What do you think?" Steve gave him a small, tired smile in return.
"What can I do?"

"I never wanna not be around you." Steve murmured, his voice so quiet Eddie barely caught it but Eddie could see the sincerity in his bloodshot eyes.

"That's a non issue. I can't even bear taking a shit knowing that you're all the way away in the next room." Steve laughed softly, the sound tugging a smile from Eddie.
"But what can I do right now." Steve met his gaze, a flicker of something vulnerable and raw in his eyes. He scooted down the couch, curling into Eddie's side as he rested his face against the skin of Eddie's neck. He inhaled, his body immediately going lax as Eddie wrapped his arms around him.
"Okay. I can do that."

His breath faltered. Eddie could tell something was coming. Steve's fingers brushed over his knee as he started, his voice low and hesitant.
"There was a time when I actually had a lot of respect for my Dad, if you can believe that." He croaked.
"And I thought that - he was someone I should be looking up to. Someone who I could rely on. Someone that knew everything about anything. That he was the person that I should be going to. He wasn't always like that. How you saw him."

"Yeah." Eddie whispered in response.

"When I was younger - sometimes he'd wake me up extra early. Before I had to go to school and he had to go to work. And we'd play catch out on the lawn while the sun was still rising. Sometimes we'd drive down to the park, walk along the bridge. Feed the ducks. We'd talk about - how bright my future would be if I just kept going. Kept my head down and worked hard. Kept doing as he said. And everything would be okay." Steve's nails dug in to Eddie's side as he let out a ragged breath.
"But I didn't. And now I'm sitting here and I'm like - is everything really going to be okay? Can everything be okay just like this, as I am now? But it can."
Steve sat up, elevating his head so his gaze was perfectly in line with Eddie's.
"I'm just - living in a different version of what I could be. With you, here. I have a life with you, that I love more than anything. And that's okay too, isn't it. I haven't failed."

The ventricles of Eddie's heart twisted and became taut.
"No. No - of course not, baby." His voice came out rough and full of conviction as though he was pleading with Steve.
"You're not a failure, Steve. You could never be a failure."

Steve hesitated for a brief second.
"Because - I think I know what I wanna do with the money."

"Okay."

"And - if it sounds stupid, please don't laugh at me. Because - I know it sounds stupid. I know that - it's ridiculous for me to even think I'm capable of doing it. But - I think if I workshop it - it could be good."

"Okay."

"I wanna"-
Eddie's brows lifted in anticipation.
"No. I can't. Forget it."

"Hey. I'm not gonna laugh at you. I'm listening." He firmed, lacing his fingers into Steve's as he pulled his hand into his lap.

"I want to - open a Community Centre. Maybe like a - a shelter. For kids or - or teens that have been kicked out of their homes. Gay kids. Y'know we could give them a place to stay and there would be support workers and advocates to help them with housing and job advisors - and - and we could have like a drop in service or a crisis cafè for people who just need advice or help"-
"- and I know what you're thinking. It's gonna cost way more than what I have. I know that. But - it's a start. And - I think if I bring it to the Indy Pride Board it could be something they might be interested in collaborating on as trustees or whatever. And - y'know we could get sponsorships and stuff like that." Eddie watched as Steve stood up, pacing around in front of him with animated hands.
"And - there's gonna be blocks I'm already prepared for that. But if we have an iron clad business plan and do everything by the books I think we could pull it off. We'll start small and - expand as and when we need to. But I think there's a market for it and - I - I wanna help. I think I could do something good with this. I can't have gone through all that for nothing. I'm angry. I'm angry at him, I'm angry at what he's done. I'm angry that - he thinks he got away with treating us like shit. I'm angry that I don't recognise him anymore. And - I need to do something with that. I can't let it live in me anymore, I can't do it." Steve pleaded, planting his feet as he stared down at Eddie with manic eyes.

And Eddie think he just about stopped breathing. Like he was a river, trembling with fear before entering the vastness of the sea that was Steve. This all encompassing and all consuming space that was coming too hard and too fast.
It was completely nonsensical, it was audacious and - crazy. It was petrifying.

"Please say something I'm having a panic attack."

And Eddie was back in the room.

You can't. Eddie wanted to say. You can't put your life on the line like that. It was hard enough for me agreeing to stand by you with the club, but this? This is too much. It's too public.

"I think it's amazing." Eddie choked out like somebody had dragged it out of him.

Steve blinked at him, uncertain if he was being genuine.
"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think it's really fucking amazing." Eddie mastered a smile despite the acidic bile that was sitting at the back of his throat.
He stood up, cupping Steve's face in his hands.
"Steve - you could have come to me and said you wanna invent and manufacture a new kind of — pickle and you would have had my support. I will always, always be proud of you for anything you do. I'll back you all the way."

Steve's breath hitched as Eddie watched tears prickle in the corners of his eyes.
"I didn't want you to think that - you weren't important."

"What?" Eddie let out a dismal laugh, his hands dropping back down to his sides.

"Because - I know that - we were talking about going somewhere else. Upsizing, getting a bigger apartment. And initially I thought we could use it for that, or some of it at-least to move away someplace new or whatever. Have like - a real home. And I want that, I do. But - just doing that didn't feel right. And - I love the club. But I'm not passionate about making drinks or cleaning toilets and changing kegs. I just felt like there was something missing. And I didn't know what it was. And then - I thought about it and - I wanna help people."

"I know." Eddie nodded. Regrettably he knew this.
"I'd never seen you as happy as what you were when you were fundraising with Robin and doing what you were doing then. I know."

"And - you don't have to be involved I know you hate stuff like that so I'd never ask you to do anything, I swear."

"It's okay. Steve — it's okay." Eddie urged softly.

"Okay." Steve sighed, the tension dissipating from his shoulders.

"It's gonna be great." Eddie said finally, swallowing hard.

"Do you think?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. But - it can't be great if you don't get some sleep." Eddie said firmly, bungling out a laugh before grabbing Steve's hand and yanking him forward.
"Bed. Now."

"Okay." Steve gleamed, pressing a firm kiss to Eddie's lips as he padded through to the bedroom.

And Eddie just stood there, willing his legs to move.

***

Eddie's chest tightened as he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against his stomach.

Steve was finally sleeping — thank God - but Eddie was losing his fucking mind.

Eddie couldn't stop picturing it: Steve pouring himself into this project, throwing his heart and soul into helping others like him, only to paint a target on his back in the process.

It didn't matter that it was the right thing to do. It didn't matter that Steve's heart was in the right place.

The world doesn't care about right and wrong—it cares about power.

What if someone decided to make an example of Steve? What if the wrong person saw the community center as a threat?
Eddie's mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each one more horrifying than the last. He imagined protesters outside the doors, bricks through windows, threats scrawled on walls. He imagined someone waiting in the dark, waiting for Steve with a baseball bat or a knife or a gun.

Eddie pressed his palms into his eyes, trying to block out the suffocating thoughts, but they only came faster.

His hands shook as he ran them through his hair, tugging hard enough to sting. The sharp jolt of pain wasn't enough to quiet his spiraling. I won't let him get hurt, Eddie swore to himself, his jaw tightening. Not by anyone. Not for this. Not for anything. Steve won't get hurt, so stop thinking about it. These thoughts are just thoughts they're not real.

Steve was still, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of sleep, but even in the dim light Eddie could see the tension lingering in his features, like his mind was still wrestling even in rest.

You're so brave, baby. Braver than I ever was. Braver than I am now. But I'm scared. I'm so fucking scared for you.

He stayed like that for a while, listening to the sound of Steve's breathing, grounding himself in the proof that he was still here, still whole. Eddie wouldn't let that change.

He couldn't.

***

𝐅𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐲

In the weeks that passed - Steve threw himself into building the community center as though it was the last thing tethering him to the earth, like stopping might make him unravel completely.

Eddie watched it happen in quiet, helpless awe like watching someone try to build a house out of toothpicks while standing in the middle of a hurricane. Steve was all motion and purpose, every moment of every day swallowed up by a to-do list that seemed to grow faster than he could cross things off.

And Eddie.

Eddie was there tying himself to Steve like an anchor, afraid he might just drift out of reach.

It started with notebooks. Dozens of them. Cheap ones with flimsy covers that Steve filled with ideas, budgets, contact names, and doodles of floor plans. He left them everywhere—on the coffee table, the kitchen counter, the bathroom sink. Eddie would find them open to half-scribbled thoughts about funding or outreach programs, always with the margins littered with random thoughts: "What if it fails?" "What if I'm wrong?" "What if it works?"

Eddie saw the idea morph from a vague dream into something Steve talked about with wild, feverish certainty. He was still working at the club in the evenings and Eddie would sit there perched on the edge of his stool watching Steve talk animatedly to anyone who would listen.
Steve's sentences were all verbs and possibilities: We could... I should... They might... It'll be great, Eddie, I swear.

And then came the calls. Endless calls. Steve on the couch with his feet tucked under him, the phone pressed to his ear, using words Eddie barely understood: "start-up costs," "operating budget," "trustee board." He paced the apartment during long stretches of silence on hold, his Walkman clipped to the waistband of his sweats and tinny, upbeat music leaking from the headphones.

Steve started pitching his idea to anyone who would take the call. Sometimes it was local groups. Sometimes it was city council members who were not too polite to hang up the phone before he'd even finished speaking. Steve would tear at his hair, slamming the phone down on the table with a guttural yell.
Eddie watched Steve's calendar fill up with meetings, little squares crammed with color-coded notes in Steve's looping handwriting.

He talked about "trustees" like Eddie was supposed to know what that meant. Steve managed to find three people who cared enough—or were curious enough—to take the first leap with him. There was a no-nonsense activist who allegedly grilled him for two hours before shaking his hand, a business owner who'd donated to Pride events in the past, and a social worker who said she'd seen too many kids fall through the cracks to say no.

Every win was followed by a dozen more challenges or straight up losses.

Finding a building became the next big obsession. Steve turned their weekends into a scavenger hunt for the perfect space. Eddie tagged along, mostly for moral support, as they toured a series of increasingly questionable locations. Steve always walked in with stars in his eyes, only to leave with furrowed brows and a growing checklist of compromises.

Then they found it. A two-story building on the edge of downtown that smelled like mildew.

"It's perfect," Steve said, his voice full of determination.

"It's - something," Eddie replied, trying to imagine how it would ever look like the dream Steve carried in his head.

Their apartment turned into ground zero. Steve's notebooks were replaced with binders stuffed with contracts, proposals, and financial plans. The dining table disappeared under a landslide of paperwork, and the couch became Steve's unofficial office.

Eddie started calling it the war room as a joke, but Steve just nodded like that was exactly what it was.

***

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡

In the whirlwind of Steve' development plans, Eddie's life took an unexpected sharp turn of its own. He got promoted. Or, more accurately, catapulted into the breakfast show slot at the radio station after the previous host was unceremoniously fired. Eddie tried not to look too smug as he boxed up his things.
The firing had been a messy affair, all whispers about inappropriate comments and advertisers threatening to pull out, and Eddie was the lucky guy management deemed the best option to clean up the mess.

At first, he'd been ecstatic. Hosting the breakfast show was a big deal—the kind of thing people spent years angling for. But the excitement wore off quickly under the weight of what the job actually entailed. Early mornings. Long prep sessions. Endless production meetings dissecting every segment down to the syllable.

The stress hit him like a truck.

The first week on air was a blur of alarm clocks screaming at 4:00 a.m., rushed commutes in the dark, and a pit in his stomach that only got worse when he sat behind the microphone. The shadow of the guy he was replacing hung over everything. His bosses kept reminding him of exactly how high the stakes were.

Keep it light, keep it sharp, don't alienate the audience, and for God's sake, don't give anyone a reason to complain.

Eddie did his best, but every time he came home and saw Steve surrounded by paperwork, something about the contrast between them made his nerves feel sharper. Steve's chaos had purpose. Eddie's felt like he was tap-dancing on a tightrope, praying the whole thing didn't collapse beneath him.

The worst part was the mornings when Eddie came home and Steve wasn't there. Those were the days when Steve's meetings started early, his schedule overlapping with Eddie's for once. Eddie would come through the door to an empty apartment, the silence so loud it felt like something had been ripped out of the space.

On those days, he'd drop his bag, collapse on the couch, and stare at the stacks of Steve's binders like they were mocking him. He wanted to be proud of Steve—and he was, he really was—but it was hard not to feel like his own world was spinning too fast, like they were both hurtling in different directions.

When Steve was home, it wasn't any easier. Some nights Eddie would sit on the couch eating a reheated dinner while Steve paced the living room, phone pressed to his ear, making deals or chasing down leads. Other nights Steve would try to ask about Eddie's day—he'd put his work down, look Eddie in the eye, and try—but Eddie could see the way his attention kept drifting back to the papers spread across the table.

He couldn't remember the last time they'd cuddled or had sex or even kissed.

"You're gonna give yourself a hernia," Eddie muttered one night, watching Steve furiously scribble notes.

Steve barely looked up. "You too, Mr. Hotshot Breakfast Show Host."

It was a strange, fragile thing they'd built between them—this quiet understanding that they were both too busy to fall apart but too stubborn to let the other go it alone.

***

𝐀𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐥

The pitch to the Indy Pride Board was a turning point. Steve worked himself into knots preparing for it, printing out statistics and running through his pitch until even Eddie could recite it.

The day of the meeting, Steve was practically vibrating with nerves. Eddie, who had never seen Steve look this unsure of himself, cupped his face and kissed him hard before he walked out the door.

"You've got this," he said, trying to will Steve into believing it.

When Steve came back hours later, his face was lit with cautious excitement.

"They didn't laugh me out of the room," he said, anxiously.
"I think they actually - liked it."

***

After that, things accelerated. Steve was on the phone constantly, his voice switching between polite charm and firm determination. Contractors, city officials, grant writers—they all became part of his orbit. Eddie could barely keep track of who was who, but Steve seemed to thrive on it.

The building inspections turned into renovation plans. The rough budget Steve had drafted turned into grant applications, fundraising ideas, and sponsorship pitches.

Eddie tried to help where he could, mostly by making sure Steve remembered to eat, sleep, and occasionally breathe. He'd show up with takeout during late-night work sessions and massage the tension out of Steve's shoulders when it all became too much.

And even though the fear never left, Eddie stayed. Because no matter how scared he was, he was never letting Steve do this alone.

***

Steve was slouched on the couch, legs sprawled out and a faint slump in his shoulders as he leafed through a stack of glossy flyers on the coffee table. The air smelled faintly of ink and the faint sweetness of the sharpie he'd used to annotate a few of them. His hair was still damp from the quick shower he'd squeezed in between calls.

Eddie waltzed into the space, grabbing one of the flyers and holding it up, squinting at the design. It was sharp—bold lettering announcing the fundraiser at the Circle in Indianapolis, a splash of color that made it impossible to ignore. Steve had even included a grainy but heartfelt photo of a group of smiling teens at the center of the page. Eddie couldn't help the small flicker of pride in his chest.

"Fancy," Eddie said, flipping it over like he was critiquing a masterpiece.

"Thanks. I had like, five hundred printed out this afternoon with some posters I'm gonna put up at the club," Steve said, absently rubbing the back of his neck.

Eddie could see the way Steve's knee bounced up and down, nervous energy thrumming through him even as he tried to sound nonchalant.

"You gonna hand them out at the door?" Eddie asked, sliding the flyer onto the pile.

Steve shrugged, leaning back into the cushions with a sigh.
"I don't know. Maybe. But then people will get too drunk to remember or lose them, so—I don't know why I'm bothering."

Eddie felt a pang in his chest at the uncertainty in Steve's voice.

"Well—why don't I take some?" he offered casually taking a seat beside Steve and leaning forward to grab another flyer from the stack.

Steve blinked at him, sitting up straighter.
"For what?"

"I'll hand them round at work," Eddie said, keeping his tone light but sincere.

"Really?" Steve asked, eyebrows raising in surprise.

"Sure."

Steve hesitated, the corner of one flyer crinkling slightly as he held it too tightly.
"Are you like—allowed to do that?"

Eddie shrugged, already imagining the awkward conversation he'd have to have with his manager.
"Well, I'll talk to Todd about it tomorrow. I'm in his good books right now since I'm covering his ass for the breakfast slot."

Steve looked doubtful, chewing the inside of his cheek as his eyes flickered over Eddie's face. "Yeah, but—won't they be weird about it if they know what it's for?"

"I mean—maybe. I don't know." Eddie leaned back, slinging one arm over the couch.

"Okay, but—if they are, don't say you have anything to do with it," Steve said quickly, his voice sharpening with concern.
"Just say someone dropped them off. I don't want you getting in shit."

"It'll be fine," Eddie said, his tone breezy, but the quiet flicker of anxiety in Steve's voice stayed with him.

"Thank you." Steve said sincerely, pecking Eddie on the lips.
"I'm sorry, I've not"- he sighed irritatedly.
"I'm sorry I've not been here. Like - present."

"It's okay"-

"No. Don't. You've done so much for me the least I could do is - take you out on a fuckin' date or something."

Eddie snickered, resting his head against the back of the couch.
"A date, huh?"

"We gotta keep that spark alive. It's really important I heard." Steve joked.

"Baby, my spark is - a roaring flame. Don't you worry about that."

"Oh. That so?" Steve enquired, leaning closer.
"And - how's that flame doing right now? Does it need stoking?" Steve clambered off of the couch, situating himself between Eddie's legs as he ran his hands up his thighs.

"I won't say no to a little stoking." Eddie said lowly, biting back a smile.

***

The radio station was a mix of old-school charm and modern hustle. It was tucked into a nondescript building on the edge of downtown.
Inside, the air always smelled faintly of coffee and the tang of ozone from ancient equipment. The hallways were lined with faded posters of long-forgotten radio legends, interspersed with sleek digital boards showcasing the station's current lineup and upcoming events.

Eddie had spent enough time here to know its quirks: the buzzing fluorescent light near the breakroom, the perpetually sticky vending machine buttons, the worn-out couch in the lounge that everyone swore they'd replace but never did.

Todd's office, on the other hand, was a contrast to the rest of the station. It was a clean, glass-walled space with a view of the recording booths, outfitted with dark wood furniture and a potted plant that miraculously seemed alive despite the lack of sunlight. Todd himself was a walking paradox: approachable but intimidating, with the kind of presence that could make you second-guess yourself even when he smiled.

He was a stocky guy in his late forties, his hair a little thinner than it probably had been five years ago, but he wore it well. Always impeccably dressed for someone in an industry that thrived on casual chaos, he had a sharp eye for detail and a knack for making people feel like they were just one misstep away from greatness or disaster.

Eddie lingered outside Todd's office for a moment, his heart thudding harder than it should have. He fiddled with the hem of his flannel shirt, pretending to glance at the bulletin board nearby as people with clipboards walked past, then finally knocked and pushed the door open when Todd called him in.

"Hey - Todd. Can I - get a minute?" Eddie asked, stepping inside and trying to sound casual.

Todd was just finishing up the last bite of a sandwich, brushing crumbs off his desk as he motioned for Eddie to sit.
"Sure, Eds. I'm just coming off my lunch, so I got time."

Eddie perched on the edge of a chair, nerves coiled tight.
"Cool." He cleared his throat.
"So, uh—"

"Great show this morning, by the way," Todd cut in, leaning back in his chair and gesturing with a coffee mug.
"The listeners are really startin' to warm to you now that Grant's gone."

"Oh - that's nice," Eddie said, trying to match Todd's easy tone, though his fingers tapped anxiously against his knee.

"Y'know - I was thinking, if it's something you'd be interested in, I'm down to have you as a permanent replacement on the breakfast segment."

"Wh-really?" Eddie's eyes widened, the offer catching him off guard.

"Really, really," Todd said with a grin, as though he already knew Eddie was going to say yes.
"Seems a shame to kick you to the boring midday slot given how much work you've put in. It's not a chance I'd normally take on someone so young and - well - inexperienced. But I think you've got a knack for it."

Eddie opened his mouth, but the words tangled for a moment before he managed,
"Wow—that's okay."

Todd waved a hand, already steamrolling ahead. "We'll see how the next couple weeks go, of course. Then if things keep looking up, we can get the team together, have a chat about your segments. See what you wanna bring to it, what your branding's gonna be. All that shit. Build a name for yourself."

Eddie nodded along, his stomach tightening as Todd's enthusiasm built.

"I think you'd be a real hit with the teens," Todd continued, clearly running through a mental checklist.
"I was talkin' to Lenny about it—you're the kinda thing they wanna listen to in the car on their way to school. They wanna go to the long-haired, mysterious guy at the counter at the record store. They trust you to give them good music recommendations - you look like you know what you're talking about. You've got that bad boy, rockstar energy. We just gotta market it right. And to be honest, I think the girls are gonna love you."

Eddie's mind crashed like a bus full of eggs.

Todd finally took a breath, offering a sheepish chuckle.
"Anyway - sorry, mouth almighty over here totally derailed the conversation. What was it you wanted to say?"

Eddie froze for a second, his rehearsed words evaporating. His gaze flicked to the flyers in his pocket—the ones he'd planned to bring up, to casually pitch. But now, sitting under Todd's sharp gaze, the risk felt sharper, heavier.

"Oh - nothing,"
Eddie said quickly, his voice a little too high.
"It's fine - I was just - nothing. Sorry."

"You sure?" Todd asked, raising a brow.

"Yeah, no - I was just - hoping to catch up with you about how I'm doing, but - you pretty much answered right off the bat, so - it's fine. Good! Great, even." Eddie's laugh came out strained, but Todd didn't seem to notice.

"Oh - well. That's good then," Todd said, looking vaguely satisfied.

"Yeah." Eddie nodded, standing up too fast.

"You sure you don't need anything else?"

"Nope, all good!" Eddie replied, already halfway out the door, the flyers still tucked deep in his pocket.

***

Eddie pushed open the apartment door, immediately affronted by the unexpected sight of Steve.

God fucking damn it.

"Hey!" Steve called out as Eddie shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on the hook.

Steve was on the couch, papers spread around him in a semi-organized chaos. His reading glasses - a new but endearing addition - were perched on his nose, and he looked up with a smile that immediately made Eddie's guilt twist a little deeper.

"Thought you'd be at work. Isn't it stock count day?" Eddie asked as Steve set a pen down and leaning back.

"Oh, Robin gave me the afternoon off so I could sort some things out," Steve replied, waving vaguely as Eddie dropped his bag by the door. "Had a couple of calls to make with the board."

Steve stood, stretching as he crossed the room to meet Eddie.
"You okay? I was listening to you earlier at work while I cleaned the shelves. You did amazing."

"Was thinking of you the whole time, sweetheart," Eddie said, his voice warm as he pressed a quick kiss to Steve's lips.

"Good." Steve grinned, brushing a hand along Eddie's arm.
"How did it go with the flyers?"

Eddie hesitated for only a fraction of a second before slipping into the lie.
"Oh - yeah. Handed 'em all out."

"Really?" Steve's eyes lit up, his excitement so genuine that Eddie felt his stomach churn.

"Yeah. All done," Eddie said with a nonchalant shrug.

"That's amazing!"

"Yeah, well. It's whatever. No biggie," Eddie muttered, trying to deflect.

"And they didn't - say anything?"

"No, not really. I spoke to Todd; he said it was fine. Didn't really say anything else."

"Wow." Steve stepped back, his expression softening.

Idiot, idiot. Fucking idiot.

"Well - great. That's great. Hopefully it makes a difference to the turnout."

"Yeah, here's hoping," Eddie said, his smile tight as he avoided Steve's gaze.

Steve moved closer again, his hands resting lightly on Eddie's shoulders.
"Thank you for doing that for me. That was a really brave thing to do."

"Oh - no. I wouldn't say that," Eddie mumbled, his voice dipping as he swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"Well, I think it is." Steve leaned up to kiss him gently.
"You want takeout tonight? I'll buy."

"Sure, yeah," Eddie said, walking toward the kitchen to busy himself.

As Steve turned to gather his papers, Eddie glanced at him, a pang of guilt threading through his thoughts.

It's fine. He'll never know. He doesn't know anyone from Eddie's work, there's no way for him to check. It'll be fine. We can just never talk about it again.

***

The remnants of their takeout sat on the coffee table as the muffled dialogue of a movie filled the room. Steve shifted, his head resting against Eddie's shoulder, their legs tangled lazily.

"Gonna grab some water," Steve murmured, pulling away slightly.
"You want some?"

"Nah, all good. Just a tall glass of you will do me just fine," Eddie quipped, grinning as Steve rolled his eyes.

"Loser."

Eddie laughed softly, his arm draped over the back of the couch.
"Actually, I have a pack of Milk Duds in my bag. Can you grab them for me?"

Steve nodded, already heading toward the door where Eddie's bag sat slouched against the wall. He rummaged around for a second before his hand stilled.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Why did you lie?" Steve deadpanned, not turning to face him.

Eddie stiffened on the couch, the easy warmth between them evaporating.
"What?"

Steve turned, holding up the flyers.
"Why did you lie to me? You didn't hand any of them out, Eddie. They didn't even leave your bag."

"I—"

"Well?"

Eddie's mouth opened, but nothing came out. His mind scrambled for words, for excuses, but they all felt hollow under Steve's piercing stare.

"It's really not what you think," he finally managed, his voice small.

Steve let out a sharp breath, stepping closer.
"I told you, you didn't have to have any involvement whatsoever, Eddie. You're the one who insisted you wanted to help. I never pushed you. I never pressured you—"

"I know!"

"So what?" Steve's voice cracked, his frustration spilling over.
"Are you pretending to care just to please me? Because that's fine! I don't care if you don't care, it's my thing!"

"Steve, it's not because I don't care," Eddie said quickly, his own voice rising.
"I do, I do care. I care so much."

"Then why did you lie about it?" Steve demanded.
"You gave me this whole entire spiel. Conversations that didn't even happen!"

"Because—" Eddie's voice faltered, his hands raking through his hair.
"Because I couldn't do it. Because I'm a coward, and I couldn't do it. And because I'm scared, alright?"

Steve froze, his anger softening slightly as Eddie's words tumbled out in a desperate rush.

"I'm scared that if I so much as allude to the fact I'm gay—or even mention anything remotely in relation to gay people, or the fact that I even associate myself with gay people—that I'll lose my job," Eddie continued, his voice trembling. "The job I worked so hard for. The job that I deserve. And it shouldn't matter that I'm gay or not, but it does. It does!"

Steve opened his mouth, but Eddie held up a hand, cutting him off.

"I tried, Steve. I really tried. I went into Todd's office with every intention of asking him if I could circulate the flyers to all the departments, maybe mention something about the fundraiser on air. And then he just started—banging on about how I'm gonna be so popular with the girls and how I'm the best friend all the kids listening want to have. How they'll look up to me. And I panicked. I panicked that I was going to ruin it all."

Eddie's voice cracked, his breath hitching.
"I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I'm a screw-up and a coward, and you deserve better than me. You deserve someone who isn't afraid of being themselves. Because I am afraid of being myself, Steve—I always have been. I'm afraid of you being yourself, I'm afraid of Robin being herself, I am - perpetually scared."

Steve crossed the room in two quick strides, dropping the flyers onto the couch. He reached out, cupping Eddie's face with both hands.

"Don't," he said firmly, wriggling out of his grip. "I don't deserve it. Stop."

"You're not a coward," Steve continued, his voice softening but steady.
"You tried. And that's okay. It's a different world, Eddie. I should have talked you out of it. It's not important. There's a whole different working culture where you are - it's not like the club. I should have told you not to. Okay? Don't worry about it."

Eddie swallowed hard, his shoulders shaking slightly.

"I love you for trying," Steve added, his thumbs brushing along Eddie's jaw.

"I wanna be able to do more than try," Eddie whispered, his voice cracking again.

"I know," Steve said, pressing their foreheads together.
"It's hard. But I get it. Things will be different someday. And it won't matter. We won't have to feel like this anymore. You won't have to be so scared."

Eddie let out a shaky breath, nodding against Steve's touch.

"Milk Duds make everything better, I heard," Steve said gently, a small, crooked smile breaking the tension.

***

Robin sprawled across Eddie's couch, her feet propped up on the armrest while Eddie paced the room, his hands flailing as he spiraled into another dramatic tirade.

"Ouch. That's rough," she said, watching him with an amused smirk.

"Yeah. It's rough." Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"You're in the doghouse, my guy."

"No, I'm not. I should be, but I'm not. Which is worse." Eddie grumbled.
"Not so much as an 'I'm disappointed in you' or - 'you're sleeping on the couch'. Nothing!"

"But you had good intentions. Steve knows that."

"Intentions mean jack shit when you can't even pull through to do something as simple as—hand out flyers," Eddie snapped, throwing his hands up.

"Stop being so hard on yourself," Robin said, sitting up and crossing her legs.
"Steve's forgiven you, so - bygones."

"'Forgiven' is generous," Eddie muttered, slumping onto the couch beside her.

"He hasn't?"

"Well - he has. It's just—awkward. I feel like I'm - pussyfooting around him like a fucking scullery maid, trying to make it up to him,"
Eddie said, voice rising with frustration.
"And it's fine. He doesn't care anymore, but I care. I need to do something. This is the kinda thing that'll come back to haunt us ten years down the line."

Robin raised an eyebrow.
"Haunt you? How? It was one disagreement that was resolved in like - two minutes."

"That's what you think. He could be stacking up all of these mistakes and wrongdoings like a fucking tally chart in the back of his mind. And then one day, we fight about something completely unrelated and it's all, 'Hey, remember that one time you were a big fat fucking coward?'"

"Eddie—"

"And then he'll be all like, 'Oh, I just realized I don't wanna be with a big fat fucking coward. Thank you but—goodbye!'"

Robin couldn't help it - she snorted.
"'Thank you but, goodbye?'"

"Something like that," Eddie muttered, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor.

"I think you're overthinking this." Robin said, leaning forward.
"It's over. You fucked up, you hashed it out. Let it go."

"I can't," Eddie said miserably, dropping his head back against the couch.
"He's a literal fucking angel, Robin. And I'm—a- I'm a—loser!"

Robin regarded him with a fond but exasperated look.
"I'm gonna let you spiral because—I think that's what you need. But in the meantime, I think I have something that might cheer you up."

Eddie squinted at her.
"Bold assumption."

Robin grinned, leaning back smugly.
"I met someone."

"You did?" Eddie perked up, momentarily distracted.

"Mhm."

"How? You barely go anywhere that isn't work or—here."

"Trust me. I was ill-prepared. Literally."

Eddie narrowed his eyes, intrigued.
"I'm listening."

"We met at the grocery store."

"Classic," Eddie said with a nod. "Which aisle?"

"Cereal aisle."

"Sexy."

Robin smirked.
"I was hanging out of my ass because it was one of my roommates' birthdays. Two bottles of spiced rum and a joint later, I'm blowing chunks in what I thought was the toilet. It turned out to be the oven."

"Oh my fucking God, Rob," Eddie cackled out a laugh.

"Wanna know the worst part?" Robin continued, undeterred.
"I'd literally just put a pizza in there to cook not even twenty minutes before."

"You're an animal."

"Mm. So the next day, I go to the grocery store because the only thing I can even remotely stomach is dry Cheerios. And the hottest girl known to man pulls up beside me. I'm talking bonkers hot. Like, my eyes fell out of my head hot."

"Let me guess, you both reached for the same box of cereal, your hands touched, and sparks started flying."

"No," Robin said, rolling her eyes.
"The lights started making me feel sick, and I started dry heaving in front of the shelves. I was standing in her way, and she tried to get past me. Once she realized I was about to start spewing out of every orifice, she got me a bottle of water."

"Romantic."

Robin grinned.
"We got talking, she gave me a ride back to mine, and voila, we have a date next week."

"Wow."

"Uh-huh. Still got it."

"You're evolving," Eddie said, gesturing at her dramatically.
"I can feel the presence of Darwin himself right here in this room."

"You joke now," Robin said, smirking. "But wait 'til you see her. You'll get it."

"Oh yeah, because I'm so well-versed in the attractiveness levels of women."

Robin shot him a mock glare.
"Just because you're gay doesn't mean you can't tell when a woman is hot. Don't be ignorant."

"I can tell," Eddie said with a shrug.
"I just choose not to acknowledge. Doesn't serve me in any way."

"Do you think I'm hot?"

Eddie gave her a long look.
"I'm not answering that."

***

Eddie squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath, before stepping into Todd's office.
The radio station buzzed faintly in the background, muffled through the thick walls. Todd, as always, was the picture of approachable professionalism—leaning back in his chair, a half-empty coffee cup in one hand and a pen twirling in the other.

"Todd."

"Eddie! Man of the hour!" Todd beamed, gesturing him in.
"I just got done singing your praises to John. He is loving you"-

"Todd, I—I really appreciate that. But—"

Todd's face dropped into a mild frown.
"Oh God, you're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No, I'm not. But you might want me to when I say what I need to say."

Todd raised an eyebrow, setting his pen down. "Elaborate."

Eddie exhaled slowly, stepping closer to the desk. "The other day, when I came into your office—and I said that I just wanted to see how you thought I was doing—that wasn't why I came in here."
He reached into his bag and pulled out a slightly crumpled flyer, placing it carefully on the desk. "It was this."

Todd picked up the flyer and squinted at it. "What's this?"

Eddie's voice came out steadier than he expected. "This - is a fundraiser that's happening next weekend. It's to raise money to open a community center for kids and teens."

Todd nodded slowly, his expression neutral. "Okay, amazing."

"Gay kids and teens."

Todd's eyebrows flicked up briefly, but he didn't say anything, letting Eddie continue.

"It's a place for them to go if—if maybe they don't feel safe at home or they have nobody to turn to," Eddie said, the words tumbling out now.
"And they've all worked so hard on it. They've put blood, sweat, and tears into making this happen, and they're at the last hurdle. I just—I need this to work out for them."

Todd leaned back in his chair, tilting his head slightly.

"And," Eddie pressed on, "I—I chickened out of saying anything because I got scared. I got scared to say anything about it, and in doing that, I let myself down, and I let my partner down." His throat tightened slightly, but he pushed through. "My boyfriend. I let him down."

Todd's expression shifted—still calm, but with a flicker of something else in his eyes that Eddie couldn't quite put his finger on.

"My boyfriend who has the biggest heart in a person I've ever seen," Eddie said, his voice quiet but firm.
"He wants to do good and help people, and all he wants is for this to reach more people so they can get the funding they need to make this happen. And I wanted to ask if I can circulate these flyers to the other departments, and if I could maybe—say something about it on air. Because it's the least I can do for them. It's the bare minimum with how hard they've worked through all this."

Todd was silent for a long moment, his gaze steady.
"I see," he said finally.

Eddie shifted nervously.
"I'm sorry if this is—just—totally inappropriate, I get it—"

Todd held up a hand.
"And—this is what you wanted to tell me the other day."

"Yeah."

"So," Todd said, his voice softening, "why didn't you?"

Eddie's stomach churned as he let out a bitter laugh.
"I mean, I don't know if you know this, but my kind aren't exactly popular with a lot of folks. Kinda hard to tell who's gonna take it well and who's gonna lynch me in the street, Todd."

Todd leaned forward, folding his hands.
"Mm. Makes sense."
He paused, then almost casually said -
"Y'know—my brother's gay."

Eddie blinked.
"Oh."

"I got three brothers," Todd continued. "One sister. Nightmare. Christmas is always—well. You know. And - out of all of them, I'd go as far as to say he's probably the one I like the most."

What.

"What?"

Todd leaned back again, smiling faintly.
"So—I'll do you one better. I'll get Greg to circulate these around the floors. You say what you need to say on air, as long as it's PG—as usual."

Eddie's jaw dropped.
"You—really?"

"You guys got a setup for this?"

"Uh—y-yeah," Eddie stammered.
"Yeah, they're setting up stalls at the Circle. A bunch of people are coming."

"Give us a stall," Todd said firmly.
"I'll get the team down there, lure people in. Put our name on it as a sponsor."

"Really?"

"Sure. It's whatever. If anyone says anything, I'll say it was my idea and I pushed it." Todd's eyes gleamed slightly.
"And—if anyone gives you any trouble, send 'em straight to me. They're probably not the kind of people I'm gonna want working at this station anyway."

Eddie stared at him - stunned as his breath wavered, lip quivering.
"O-okay."

"Please don't cry," Todd said, holding up a hand. "I don't know what to do with that."

"Sorry," Eddie choked out, his voice thick.
"I'm—that's great. Thank you. Thank you—"

Todd waved him off as Eddie stumbled to the door.
"Thanks." He blundered out again, slinking between the gap.

***

The circle, usually filled with people rushing to work or mindlessly meandering was now a makeshift festival of mismatched booths, homemade signs, and the quiet hum of anticipation.

The air was warm and sticky with the lingering scent of Spring, but it was thick with a kind of electric energy too, like everyone in the vicinity had decided—consciously or not—that they were there for something bigger than themselves. The stalls were colorful but uneven—some had cheap plastic tablecloths, others were adorned with hand-drawn banners, and in between there were a few meticulously arranged displays of flyers and donation jars.

At the center of it all was the stage where a makeshift podium had been set up. It was a little crooked, like no one had quite managed to get it level, but that was part of the charm. People moved around it, setting up signs and checking the sound system.

There were groups of people talking excitedly around the stalls, their conversations loud and overlapping, a blend of voices trying to be heard above the others. There were moments where Eddie would catch the sound of someone laughing, only to be pulled back into the fray of organizing and directing people to the right spots. It was controlled chaos, and he was right at the center of it all, pretending he had it all together when, in reality, he was barely holding it together at all.

But then there were these flashes of clarity—those moments where someone handed him a donation, or a child ran up to drop a few coins in the jar, or Steve flashed him a grin from across the crowd. In those moments Eddie felt like everything was suddenly okay.

As more people gathered, Eddie's heart rate quickened. He didn't really know what it was. He passed it off as anxiety which wasn't totally abnormal. But there was something else. He was excited, he was scared. Sometimes it felt like it was too much and this urge to run came back.

"Hey, you're doing good," Steve said, his voice barely above the hum of the crowd. There was a kind of love in his words that made Eddie's throat close up for a second.

He should be telling Steve that.

Eddie wiped his hands on his jeans and glanced toward the edge of the circle, spotting two familiar faces approaching: Todd and Nancy.

"I'll be back in a sec," Eddie said, stepping away from Steve.

"Where are you going?"

"Just - gimme a sec, alright?" Eddie called over his shoulder - leaving Steve stood there aimlessly as he began weaving through the crowd.

As Eddie approached, Todd gave him a grin, carrying a foldable chair under one arm. Nancy walked beside him with a box of station swag balanced on her hip.

"Thank you for doing this, guys. This is—insane. Steve's gonna be so happy," Eddie said, voice filled with gratitude.

"Ah, don't sweat it," Todd replied, adjusting his grip on the chair.
"Where should we set up?"

"Oh - I saved you guys a spot just down here next to us." Eddie said, gesturing toward a space down the row.

Todd nodded and started toward the stall, but Steve's voice called out.
"What's happening?"

Eddie turned back toward him with a small grin. "Oh, I just brought in some reinforcements."

"What?" Steve asked, stepping forward.

Eddie waved the newcomers over.
"Steve, this is Todd and Nancy. Todd's my boss; Nancy is the operations manager for the station. Todd and Nancy, this is Steve. He's running this ship like the Navy."

Steve's smile was polite but clearly surprised. "Great to meet you, Steve," Todd said, extending a hand.

"Yeah—you too," Steve replied, shaking it.

"This is a really great thing you're doing here," Todd added. "A long time comin'."

Steve blinked, nervously.
"Thank you. That's—so nice of you to say." Then he turned to Eddie.
"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Eddie nodded, though his stomach did a little flip.
"Uh—sure."

As they stepped a few feet away, Eddie tried to read Steve's expression.
"Oh God, are you mad?" he asked nervously.

"I can't believe you did this," Steve said, shaking his head.
"This is—huge, Eddie."

"Oh—it's—it's fine," Eddie stammered, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"It's the least I could do."

"Shut up. Now is not the time for you to be all - humble and weird," Steve said, his grin breaking through.
"This is—crazy."

"Yeah, well. I have my moments. When I'm not being an idiot."

Steve took a step closer, eyes searching Eddie's face. "I would kiss you, obviously, but - your colleagues are here."

"Oh, it's fine. They know." Eddie shrugged.

Steve froze.
"Know what?"

"That I'm gay."

Steve stared.
"You—told them?"

"Straight from the horse's mouth and all that," Eddie said, trying to sound casual.
"They probably would've figured it out eventually. There's only so many times I can agree a girl is hot in the rec room with a pained look on my face before people start asking questions. Figured I'd just - rip the bandaid off."

Steve gawked, speechless.

"Well—technically I only told Todd," Eddie admitted.
"But between you and me, I think Nancy might not be so far removed herself. I see her making ogling eyes at Samantha in HR all the time."

"You did that for me?"

Eddie paused.
"Well—yeah, I suppose. I mean - in like a - roundabout sorta way."
Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck as Steve just stared blankly at him.
"What?"

Steve interrupted, grabbing Eddie's face with both hands and planting a firm kiss on his lips.
"I love you."

Eddie's mouth fell open with a laugh.
"I - love you too?"

"I'm so proud of you."

Eddie groaned, pulling back.
"Shut up, ew. Don't—say that."

"Well - I am," Steve insisted.

Eddie faltered, his shoulders tensing.
"Okay. Now - back to work. You've got shit to do and money to raise." He stammered, clearing his throat.

"I'm the luckiest guy in the world." Steve beamed before slinking past Eddie who felt like he had a gaping hole in his torso, all hollowed out and airy.

Eddie puffed some air out from his cheeks before returning to the stall. He busied himself by neatening leaflets, Robin sidling up beside him.

"Hey, Eddie. You got any soda's or anything? Todd's asking." Nancy appeared before him with a smile.

"Oh, yeah"-

"Nancy?" Robin screeched, practically deafening Eddie who winced.

Nancy looked to her, equally surprised.
"Robin?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with work. What are you doing here?"

"I'm—helping Steve. We work together."

Nancy frowned.
"Well, I'm helping Eddie."

Robin's eyes narrowed.
"Wait—you work with Eddie?"

Nancy nodded slowly.
"Yeah?"

"What is happening right now?" Robin said, throwing her hands up.

"Wait—how do you two know each other?" Eddie asked.

Robin and Nancy exchanged a glance before saying in unison, "We—met—"

"At the grocery store," Nancy finished quickly with a sheepish smile.

Robin grimaced.

"You're the cereal girl?" he blurted.

Nancy turned bright red.
"The what?"

Robin glared.
"Oh my God."

"This is brilliant," Eddie said, barely containing his laughter.
"This is just—too good."

"You two know each other?" Nancy asked, pointing between Robin and Eddie.

"He's my best friend. Unfortunately."

"So - do I start calling you mom now or later?" Eddie smirked at Nancy who looked positively perturbed.

"I will kill you," Robin hissed under her breath.

***

𝐌𝐚𝐲

As the buzz settled, life found a strange, comfortable rhythm. The event had been a resounding success. The donation jars, which had once been optimistically half-full at best, were now heavy with crumpled bills and jingling coins. Postal contributions poured in as well, spurred by Todd's team pushing the event on air. Steve, Eddie and Robin had spent hours on Eddie's couch bagging up coins and counting out bills to take to the bank.

The process of finalizing the community center's opening was slow but steady—permits needed signing, budgets needed allocating, and volunteers needed organising.

The mildew infested building Steve had set his sights on transformed into a quiet construction zone, with signs reading "Coming Soon: The Haven Community Center" staked into the ground.
Steve insisted on dragging Eddie downtown at least once a week just to look at it.

Eddie didn't complain once.

One day they visited to see the words 'GO HOME FAGGOTS' scrawled across the red brick in looping black spray paint.

"It's fine." Steve said, shrugging as the two of them stood on the sidewalk looking up at him.
"We can just - jet wash it. Like it never happened, right?" He said optimistically, looking to Eddie for guidance.

"Exactly." Eddie nodded.
"Never happened."

A couple days later, the two of them came back with plans to do exactly that. The hose of the jet wash looped around Steve's shoulder as Eddie wielded a long wire brush broom.
The two of them were immediately taken aback by a new contribution underneath which read:

'WE ARE HOME' in a deep red.

Steve exhaled, nodding to himself. Like suddenly it all made sense.

***

They had more room now for lazy mornings tangled in each other's arms and long afternoons spent doing nothing of consequence. They were making up for lost time - movie marathons on the couch, walks through the park with coffees in hand, and aimless drives with the windows down. The radio was always blasting some old Springsteen songs from one of Steve's mixtapes that Eddie pretended to hate but secretly loved.

Robin and Nancy had become a fixture in their lives. It started with casual meetups—a drink here, a coffee there—but quickly snowballed into a full-blown double friendship.

Nancy had a sharp, cutting wit that could keep up with Robin's constant rambling, but she also had this quiet warmth that softened Robin's rougher edges. When they were together, it was like watching two completely different puzzle pieces snap perfectly into place.
Nancy would roll her eyes with fond exasperation as Robin launched into one of her proud, long-winded stories about how she "single-handedly saved the station from disaster" after a scheduling mishap. Meanwhile, Robin would get this smug, goofy grin whenever Nancy leaned in to kiss her temple, shutting her up mid-sentence.

Eddie didn't understand how they worked. But they did. Somehow.

For Eddie, things finally felt like they were falling into place. The anxiety that had gnawed at him for so long, the constant fear of screwing everything up—it was still there, but it felt quieter now. Manageable. Like maybe he could finally let himself enjoy this without worrying about when it would all fall apart.

"You know you're incredible, right?"
Eddie said one night as they lay in bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the room.

Steve turned to him, his eyes crinkling in that way that always made Eddie's heart skip.
"You're not so bad yourself."

"I mean it," Eddie said, his voice quieter now. "You make me want to be better."

Steve didn't reply right away. Instead, he reached out and laced his fingers through Eddie's.
"You're already the best."

It was simple moments like that—quiet, unhurried, and real—that made Eddie feel like maybe, just maybe, they were going to be okay.

Until it wasn't.

***

The café was cozy but stylish, with polished wooden tables and soft yellow lighting that gave the whole space a warm, honeyed glow. It definitely wasn't the sort of place Eddie would frequent on any normal day.
The faint hiss of the espresso machine filled the air, blending with the murmur of conversation and the occasional scrape of a chair on the tiled floor. Eddie sat stiffly in the booth, his eyes flitting to the tall windows as Steve shifted nervously beside him.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, his voice low.

"Yep." Eddie replied quickly, but his tense posture said otherwise.

Steve leaned closer, searching Eddie's expression.
"Now you're the one that's nervous."

"Not nervous. Just - cautious." Eddie admitted, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of a napkin.

"I know that she didn't exactly make a great first impression the first time you guys met." Steve said, leaning his elbows on the table. He gave Eddie an encouraging smile.
"But - she is trying. I'm not expecting you guys to be the best of friends but - y'know."

"I know." Eddie said, exhaling sharply through his nose. He forced a small smile, nodding toward Steve.
"I'll be - nice as pie."

Steve's hand brushed lightly against Eddie's.
"Thank you."

The door jingled as Steve stood almost instantaneously, as though there was an invisible rope dragging him up.
Eddie straightened his back - standing up at a slower pace, swallowing hard as Steve waved.

"Mom. Hey."

His mother, poised as always, strode in with purpose, her heels clicking softly on the tiled floor. Her tailored cream blouse and pearl necklace caught the light as she gave Steve a thin lipped smile.
"Stephen." She assessed him critically, her pale blue eyes scanning him like a drill sergeant.
"You look - well. Healthy." Her gaze lingered on his torso, and she arched a brow.
"You've filled out that sweater, I see."

Steve laughed lightly, scratching the back of his neck.
"Probably from all the late night takeout I've been having. Been working late."

"You need to start eating better." she said briskly, smoothing a hand over the material, picking at a bit of lint by his collar. Eddie grimaced at the sight of her pruning him like a monkey.
"Have some vegetables every once in a while. Your skin will thank you and it won't look so - dry and lifeless."

"Uh - Mom, you remember Eddie." Steve announced, clearing his throat.

"Eddie. Yes." Her sharp gaze shifted to Eddie, her lips pulling into a thin, polite smile. She extended a hand with deliberate formality.
"It's - nice to see you again. Eddie."

"Likewise." Eddie clasped her hand briefly, his palm undoubtedly clammy against hers.

"Let's sit." Steve smiled, gesturing towards the booth.

"Why don't I get us some drinks?" Eddie offered as Steve and his Mom slid in to their respective seats opposite one another as he hovered uncomfortably.
"Let you guys catch up for a sec."

"Yeah, sure okay." Steve nodded.
"Mom?"

"Oh, yes. I'll have a flat white." She said dismissively, barely acknowledging Eddie.

"Flat white. Got it." He huffed, making his way over to the counter.

Eddie couldn't help but peer round every so often whilst the barista made their drinks, watching Steve shrink smaller and smaller in real time. She spoke, endlessly. Barely leaving any room for him to get a word in edgeways. Eddie had no clue how he was supposed to survive this as his eyes burned into the shelves of pastries and muffins behind the glass casing like he was trying to explode them with his mind.

Eddie carried their three drinks over on a black tray, cautious of causing any spillages which would no doubt give her a reason to complain.

"-and you need to start getting more regular haircuts. Push that hair back, you're not a teenager anymore it can't be flopping around all in front of your face. People won't take you seriously"- Steve's mom lectured as Eddie arrived at the table.

"Here's your latte, baby." Eddie said, placing a mug down in front of him. He couldn't help but feel a bit smug at how the pet name made her visibly uncomfortable.

"Oh, thanks." Steve said meekly, looking grateful for the interruption before wrapping his hands around the ceramic and dragging it closer to him.

He purposely left his mom's until last before scooting uncomfortably next to Steve.

"So, Eddie." She began, bringing her own mug up to her lips and taking a sip.
"Steve tells me you're doing well at work? You have your own slot at the local radio station?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah. It's going really well thanks." Eddie stammered, feeling her gaze like a spotlight.

"And what is it that you do exactly? Is it - the daily news?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.
Eddie could see Steve nervously tearing open an abundance of sugar sachets and pouring them in one by one.

"I mean, kinda. But it's mostly music. Get everyone hyped up for the day." Eddie said, shifting in his seat.

"Oh." She pursed her lips.
"What sort of music do you play?" Steve reached for another sugar sachet from the pot situated at the head of the table before she intercepted him with a stern look.

"Oh, well - it varies"-

"Stephen, I think that's enough sugar - don't you?"

Eddie was gonna flip.

"Sorry." Steve froze, sighing as he placed the packet back on the table.
"They're only like - a quarter of a teaspoon so - it's hard to tell when enough is enough." He laughed awkwardly.

"Well - I can tell when enough is enough." She snipped.
"You don't want your teeth rotting out of your skull before you're thirty do you?"

"His teeth are fine." Eddie said matter of factly, watching as her stony stare left Steve's and redirected to Eddie's.
"Your teeth are fine, right?" Eddie urged, looking to Steve.

"Uh - yeah. I think so?" Steve said nervously, glancing between Eddie and his mom.

An awkward silence lingered between the three of them. Eddie could physically feel Steve's body closing in on itself like a vacuum sealed bag as Eddie and his mom had what was essentially a staring contest.

"Eddie - you should finish telling mom about work." Steve suggested chirpily.

"Oh yeah. Music. All sorts of stuff, really. Mostly like classic rock, metal, whatever's new. We take requests so - if you're ever on your morning commute you can always call in. But I'll only play it if it's good so watch out." He chuckled awkwardly, soon realising that the joke landed like a lead balloon.
"But yeah, I mostly try and do good news."

"Good news?" She repeated, one brow arching.
"As opposed to - bad news?"

"Yeah, like - local heroes, heartwarming stories from the community. Shake things up a bit so it's not all doom and gloom. I try and steer clear of politics and all that shi-stuff." Eddie corrected himself hastily.

"Don't you think it's important for people to know what's actually going on in the world?"

Eddie shrugged, his smile faltering.
"Technically it is what's going on in the world. Just on the nicer side of the spectrum."

"But is that not your responsibility as a broadcaster to tell them the truth?" She pressed.

Eddie was quickly realising that clearly nobody had told this woman to shut the fuck up a day in her life.

"Yeah, well - it's not for everyone I'm learning." He said quickly, trying to keep his cool.
"But Steve's doing some great work down at the community centre. He's really - going at it, aren't you Steve?"

"Oh, yeah." Steve said quickly, sitting up straighter.
"Yeah everything's shaping up really nicely. We've got a lot of backing from the pride board, loads of great sponsors. Everyone's been super hands on with it all."

"Does it pay well?" She asked.

"Well - much like most businesses I won't really see a return on investment until it takes off and we have actual clients." Steve explained patiently.

"So the children will be paying you?"

"No, no." Steve shook his head.
"The service is free for them to access. The money comes from the local council—uh, grants and funding. It's a nonprofit service."

"Nonprofit? So you're working for free?"

"Right now, yeah. But it'll all be worth it in the end."

"But how are you supporting yourself?"

Eddie clenched his jaw, glancing toward the window to ground himself, his patience wearing thin.

"At the moment we're kinda lucky that Eddie's earning enough for the both of us to get by. Obviously that will change once I start getting paid regularly and I'll be able to contribute more. But - he's being really great about it. So, I'm pretty lucky."

"I see." Steve's mom said, her voice even, almost dismissive as she took another sip of her drink. Eddie was having awful thoughts about how he wished he'd slipped a cyanide pill into it or something.

Steve shifted in his seat, glancing at her cautiously.
"How have you been? It's been - so long."

"Oh you know, I'm getting by and keeping busy. Lots to do these days." She let out a soft sigh, her hand moving to straighten the already-perfect crease of her blouse.

"Cool. That's - good." Steve replied, his voice faltering as he rubbed the back of his neck.
Eager to move the conversation forward, he sat up straighter.
"Oh, Mom - I was thinking with my birthday coming up next month, it might be nice for us to all go out to dinner together. For my twenty fifth. Me, Eddie, you. We can invite Robin and Nancy, too"-

"Is twenty five considered a special birthday, these days?" She interrupted, with a cloy laugh.

Steve blinked, caught off guard. "I mean"-

"If you think about it"- Eddie interjected.
"Every birthday is a special birthday. Hooray, you didn't die this year. Here's another one."

"Yes, quite." She forced a tight smile.

She took a measured sip of her coffee, her pale blue eyes scrutinizing him over the rim. Then, almost abruptly, she set the cup down with a soft clink.
"Well, sweetheart - actually, I have some news."

"News?" Steve leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowing.

"I'm going to be moving closer to your Aunt Cathy."

"Aunt Cathy?" Steve repeated, the confusion plain on his face.

God, there's fucking more of them?

His mom nodded, her hands clasped neatly in front of her on the table.
"She's been such a rock for me these last few months with everything that's been going on with your Father and the house. It's been - so lonely holed up in there all alone. She's been such an angel."

"Right." Steve said, his voice quiet as his fingers toyed with the empty sugar packet in front of him.

"It's just been such a difficult set of circumstances. Navigating all of this change on my own. But I finally feel like I'm coming out the other side of it now."

"Oh, well. That's good then." Eddie snarked with a squinting smile.

Fucking hypocrite.

"But - Aunt Cathy lives in Arizona."

"Yes?"

"Mom, that's like - the other side of the country." Steve said, his voice rising slightly in disbelief.

"Don't be so dramatic, Stephen." She said with a wave of her hand.
"It's only three and a half hours by plane. You can visit whenever you want."

"Right. Yeah." Steve said quietly, looking down into his lap.

"I just felt like I needed a change in scenery after everything that's happened." She said, her voice softening slightly. Then, as if it were an afterthought, she added -
"So, unfortunately I won't be around for your birthday. But I'll send you something in the post and you can get yourself something nice. Like a sweater that fits you."

"Yeah. Thanks." Steve exhaled sharply, his head dipping for a moment.
Eddie just stared between the two of them, his tongue swilling around in his mouth in annoyance.
"Uh - I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Be back in a sec." Steve said hurriedly as Eddie shuffled out of his seat to make room for him to slip past.

Eddie's eyes followed after him solemnly before Steve disappeared behind a door.

"He's always been into his theatrics." She said, her tone light but with an edge of judgment.

Eddie turned toward her fully, his elbows resting on the table.
"What's your deal?"

"Excuse me?" She blinked in confusion.

"You come back into his life just to leave again? What's that all about?" Eddie pressed, his voice low but firm.

"I am not leaving him. I'm simply moving to another state. I mean, really. You're both acting like I'm getting in a rocket ship and flying myself up into space."

"You may as well be." Eddie shot back.

Her lips thinned as she sat up straighter like it was a battle for dominance.
"Well, I don't know what you both are expecting me to say"-

"Do you know how excited he was to see you, today? To show me how much you'd changed and grown as a person. How accepting you were now? All you've done since he got here is berate him." Eddie interrupted, leaning forward. His hands curled into fists on the table.

"I'm simply making observations"-

"Well, observe this." Eddie snapped.
"Your Son is doing incredible things. He's helping people. He's changing lives. The least you can do is act like you give a shit. But - what? You just drag him out to some lame ass coffee shop for a lacklustre final goodbye and that's it? You're rid of him?"

"Eddie." She said sharply, her tone tinged with irritation.
"I appreciate that you have always been protective of my son"-

"Someone has to be." He said spitefully.

She disregarded the comment, allowing it to go right over her head.
"But he is a grown adult now. We are both well within the realms of being able to make our own choices in this life. He has made his, which I have been - considerate of, and I am making mine."

"Choice." Eddie repeated, his voice heavy with sarcasm.
"This isn't a choice he made. You understand that, right? This is just who he is."

"And I have done my utmost to try to understand this life he has now."

"Yeah, it shows." Eddie muttered, shaking his head.

"If I'm being honest - I was hoping that the two of us would be alone together at some point before I leave." She sighed, her tone softening as Eddie looked at her, his lips curling in confusion.

"Why?" Eddie asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Didn't think you'd be too interested in becoming pals with you leaving and all."

"Eddie, I don't doubt that you and my son will spend a large portion of your lives together," she said, her voice steady. "I can see that you care for him. You've made it abundantly clear. Quite loudly, in fact. So—I'd like you to take this."

She pulled an envelope from her bag and slid it across the table toward him.

"And I'd like for you to keep it just between us," she added.
"I know that if I gave it to Stephen he would refuse. It was hard enough the last time trying to persuade him."

"Jesus." Eddie seethed.
"What is it with you people and throwing money at situations to make them go away?"

"This isn't me throwing money at the situation," she said evenly.
"This is me asking you, as a mother, to take care of my son. This is for his future, and yours."

"See, this is how little you care to even know him."
Eddie exhaled sharply, his fingers brushing against the envelope but not taking it.
"The kind of stuff Steve needs, money can't buy. It doesn't even touch the sides. He needs people to - listen to him. To take a vested interest in him. To - be there for him. I take care of him with what I have and that's good enough for him because I wake up every single day and make the choice to be with him. And trust me, lady - it's not fucking easy for me either. I'm damaged goods too. But at least I'm learning." He said bitterly.

She studied him for a long moment, her expression unreadable.
"I am intimately aware of the mistakes I have made in this life. His Father being one of them. Stephen is not one of them. He never has been. But unfortunately, what's done is done. I haven't always been there for him the way I should have been. And I think you and I both know that perhaps - I am not fit to be a Mother. Whether we say it aloud or not. As much as I try, it isn't in my blood the way it is for others. Perhaps one day I will learn, but I don't want Stephen in close proximity for the possibility that maybe I never will." She resided as Eddie continued to peer out at her begrudgingly from beneath his bangs.
"So please - will you do this for me? And keep it between us?"

"Lying to Steve historically has never gotten me very far so I tend not to do that anymore. You should take a leaf out of my book."

"I don't want you to lie to him. I want you to love him." She pressed.

"I do love him." Eddie scoffed.

"There we are then."

Eddie stared at her with a squint, trying to decide her.
"You people are crazy." He eventually said, his face breaking out into a bemused smile.
"I mean - what am I even supposed to do with this?"

"Whatever you want. Whatever you both need. It's your money." She shrugged.
"I assume because you haven't torn it up and thrown it back in my face that you're considering it?"

"Oh no, I'm still thinking about throwing it back in your face." He clarified, kissing his teeth. He inhaled, biting down against the bottom of his lip whilst his leg bounced beneath the table.
"Y'know. Maybe I should cut you a little bit of slack."

"How so?" She queried.

"I mean, you're a pretty shitty mom but divorcing your asshole husband and moving across the country is kinda hardcore. Even if you are abandoning your kid in the process."

"Oh, yes. Well - I suppose if you put it so candidly." She said meekly.

"If I liked you more I would even say metal."
He huffed, staring at the envelope as though he was expecting it to sprout legs and roundhouse kick him in the face.
"How much? Out of curiosity."

"One hundred thousand." She said as though it was nothing."

"Fuck me." Eddie cackled in disbelief, dragging his hands down his face.
"This family's gonna kill me."

"So - you agree? You'll take the money and - you won't tell Stephen?" She leaned forward, staring him down as Eddie could do nothing more but stare back.

Eventually the vision of Steve entered his peripheral as he exited the bathroom. Eddie quickly snatched up the cheque, shoving it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket inconspicuously.

"Hey," Steve said, sliding back into his seat. "You guys okay?"

"Yes," she said smoothly, leaning back in her seat.
"Eddie and I were just talking about, uh—"

"We came to an agreement," Eddie interjected quickly, looking to her with an intense glance.

"Oh? About what?" Steve asked, glancing between them.

"That—this coffee must be the same blend as the one they have at the diner back in Hawkins," Eddie said casually.

"Yes," she said, nodding.
"Tastes exactly the same."

"You ate at the diner?" Steve asked, his tone lightening.

"On a handful of occasions, yes," she said, a faint smile touching her lips.
"Mostly to get away from your father."

"Me too," Steve said softly, and for a moment, the tension at the table eased.

***

The faint hum of passing cars filled the quiet as leaves skittered across the sidewalk.
Steve shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his eyes flicking briefly to his mom, then down to his shoes.

"Will you call?" he asked after a moment, his voice hesitant.
"When you get to Arizona?"

"Of course I will, sweetheart," she said with a soft smile, adjusting the strap of her handbag on her shoulder. Her breath puffed faintly in the cold air.
"And I'll send you a nice postcard with some of those lovely deserts and hills."

"Okay," Steve murmured, nodding as he scuffed his sneaker against the pavement.

She reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand lightly on his arm.
"Take care of yourself," she said, her voice gentle.

"You too," Steve replied, his gaze lifting to meet hers. His jaw was tight, but his eyes held a quiet vulnerability.

She turned to Eddie then, standing a step behind Steve with his hands jammed into his jacket pockets.
"Eddie," she said, her tone shifting slightly, softer but still formal.

Eddie raised an eyebrow.

"It was nice to see you again" she said simply, her expression unreadable but her tone sincere.
"And thank you. For the coffee."

Eddie tilted his head slightly, studying her for a beat before nodding.
"You're welcome" he said, his voice clipped but not unkind.

She smiled faintly, then pulled her coat tighter around herself as she turned and walked toward her car. Steve watched her go, his face unreadable in the gray light, until the sound of the car door shutting broke the stillness.

As her car pulled out of the parking lot, Steve exhaled slowly. Eddie sidled up beside him, bumping his shoulder lightly in a quiet gesture of support. Steve didn't say anything, just stared down the road until the taillights disappeared around a corner.

"You know I still hate her, right?" Eddie said after a while.

"Yeah. I figured." Steve snorted.

***

Eddie glanced at Steve out of the corner of his eye, taking in the way he sat slouched against the window, his cheek pressed against his fist. His eyes were distant, fixed on the blur of passing trees and streetlights, his expression soft but undeniably sad.

"You okay?" Eddie asked, his voice low but steady.

Steve blinked, sitting up a little straighter. "Yeah. Just thinking."

Eddie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his lips pressing into a thin line.
"I'm sorry," he said after a beat.

"Don't be," Steve said, shaking his head slightly. He gave a small, almost bittersweet smile.
"It's okay. Not like we won't ever see each other again."

Eddie nodded, though he didn't look convinced. "Yeah."

Steve turned to him, his smile a little brighter this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling just slightly.
"And - at least I still have you guys."

"You'll always have me," Eddie said without hesitation, his voice firm in a way that left no room for doubt.

Steve's smile widened for a moment, but then he frowned, sitting up straighter.
"You missed the turning."

Eddie smirked, glancing over at him briefly before focusing back on the road.
"No, I didn't."

Steve squinted out the window.
"You literally did."

Eddie's smirk turned into a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"I just felt like we needed some milkshakes."

Steve huffed a quiet laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Yeah," he said, leaning back in his seat and letting his head rest against the headrest.
"That's a good idea."

***

𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐞

Steve stood by the utilities closet, balancing precariously on the edge of frustration as he shoved yet another random object into the overburdened shelves. A shoebox teetered ominously before toppling to the ground with a clatter. He let out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning his weight against the doorframe as he tried to wrestle the mess into submission.

Eddie, sprawled out on the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table, raised an eyebrow over the paperback he was half-reading. His smirk was audible before it even reached his voice.

"What are you sighing about? You're using up all the air in here."

Steve didn't bother looking over his shoulder. He was too busy trying to stuff a rolled-up yoga mat into a corner clearly not built for it.

"This place is just - getting super cramped."

Eddie snorted, tossing the book aside.
"Tell me about it."

With a muffled grunt, Steve managed to wedge the yoga mat into place, only for a vacuum attachment to fall and bounce off his shoe. He winced but kept going, a man on a mission.
"I didn't realise - how small it was - agh - until there were two people living here full time." He yanked the vacuum attachment back into the closet.
"Jesus." Eddie tilted his head, observing Steve like a curious cat as he propped himself up on one elbow.
"I mean, it's my fault. All my shit is everywhere."

"We're gonna need something bigger I feel."

Steve straightened, dusting off his palms before closing the utility closet with a solid click. He leaned back against the door, crossing his arms as his brow furrowed.

"Hopefully one day. The second everything is up and running at the centre I'll start putting some money away and we can start looking. Just give it a year."

Eddie shrugged lazily, though his eyes glinted with something unreadable.
"Why not right now?"

"Um" Steve scoffed lightly, shooting him a look.
"Because right now my bank statements might be the most unattractive thing about me."

"Mm. That's a shame." Eddie elevated himself, reaching into his back pocket and fishing out a folded piece of paper with exaggerated nonchalance.
"Because this place just came on the market."

Steve came up behind the couch, folding his arms behind Eddie's head and leaning over with a squint.
"Oh my God - is that, that place on Walker Avenue that we drove past?"

"The very same", Eddie said with a smirk, holding the paper out like it was a secret treasure map.

Steve snatched it, analysing it eagerly.
"It's like - the dream house."

"The dream house?"

"Yeah. You don't think so?"

"I mean - it's nice, sure."

It was a cozy, three-bedroom family home with cream siding, forest green shutters, and a charming gabled roof. A wraparound porch, complete with a swing, stretched across the front, while a white picket fence bordered the neatly trimmed yard. A stone pathway led up to the front door, flanked by flower beds, and to the side was a one-car garage with a sloping driveway. It looked inviting, warm, and full of potential. It was a little bit of a suburban prison nightmare in Eddie's humble opinion but it was nice all the same.

Steve scanned the listing as if memorizing every word.
"The garage, the gardens. The space. It's perfect. I hate whoever lives there for even wanting to sell it." He thrust the paper at Eddie, pacing now as his annoyance spilled over.
"Imagine Christmas there with all the lights up on the gables. Fuck my entire shitty existence. I want that house. We deserve that house."

Eddie watched him with a lopsided grin, his chin propped on his fist.
"Yeah. I see that."

Steve spun on his heel, throwing his hands up.
"The universe is orchestrating some diabolical plan of action to just - piss me off. I mean - I deserve good karma. They could have waited a year, but no. They wanna move right now. Right when Steve is in the trenches of financial hell."

"Oh, yeah. The universe hates you." Eddie's voice was dry, but there was an undercurrent of amusement that Steve completely missed.

"And even if we - managed to make a plan to buy it or make an offer it definitely won't be there by the time we get anywhere close to being taken seriously. Assholes."

"Oh no, definitely not." Eddie gave a mockingly solemn nod.
"That's why I already bought it."

"Exactly!" Steve said in anguish, raising his pointer finger before dropping it almost instantly and freezing on the spot.
"What?"

"Well - I went for a viewing. I couldn't stop thinking about it ever since you pointed it out. It's nicer on the inside if you can even believe that. And - the whole time I was there I thought about how perfect it would be for us, how we could decorate it. And - I could actually envision us living there. So - I made an offer. They accepted. There's a couple bits of work that need doing but nothing urgent. No structural issues according to surveyors. Now they're just waiting to complete the chain, make sure everything's good to go according to the solicitors and we should be in there by the beginning of August if all goes smoothly."

"Wait - I'm sorry - are you kidding? I can't tell if you're kidding." Steve's voice was tight, pupils darting across Eddie's features.

"I'm not kidding."

"This isn't funny, Eddie." Steve said cautiously, backing away.

Eddie sighed with a smile, he clambered up from the couch with a short groan. He said nothing as Steve watched, situated in place as Eddie walked hastily to the bedroom.
He opened the drawer to his bedside table with a clatter, pulling out a stack of papers and presenting them to Steve.

"Here's the contracts."

Steve stared, blinking rapidly as he took the documents with shaking hands.
"You bought this house?"

"I bought that house."

"This is your house?"

"No." Eddie stood, walking over and planting a hand gently on Steve's shoulder.
"This is our house. My name just happens to be on the contracts. But - it's just as much yours as it is mine."

Steve swallowed hard, still clutching the papers like they might evaporate.

"Happy early Birthday." Eddie said.

"I don't - I don't understand." Steve laughed nervously.

"I just figured that the next time you're gonna wanna go nuts on Christmas dinner again you'd probably benefit from having more room for all the trimmings on the counters." Eddie squeezed his shoulder lightly, his grin softening into something warmer.

"How"- Steve's voice cracked slightly.
"I don't - really?"

"Really, really."

"But how did you"-

"I'm full of surprises." Eddie stepped back with a small shrug.
"But hey - at least you're not the only one with insane outgoings now."

Steve's face split into a wide, incredulous grin, his voice breaking into a laugh.
"That's our house?"

"Yep." Eddie's grin mirrored his, wide and smug.
"We can go and see it this weekend if you want. Do a sneaky drive by round the block. Start making some plans for it. But there will be a compromise on the decor."

"This is crazy. I'm - I can't speak."

"That's a first." Eddie quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Steve smacked him lightly on the arm with the papers.
"Shut up." He laughed before exhaling deeply, his gaze fixated on the front of the property.
"I can't believe you."

His voice dropped, quiet but firm against Steve's ear.
"You're gonna have your own things and they're gonna be proudly on display and not packed away in my utilities closet because you're scared they're in the way. You're gonna have your own wardrobe, your own sink, your own side of the bed. Your own seat at the table. It's all yours, okay?"

"Okay." Steve's breath hitched, bungling out a laugh as his face screwed up again in confusion.
"What the fuck."

Eddie pulled back just enough to look him in the eye.
"You are the greatest thing to ever happen to me. And - I wanna try and make every single day as great for you as I can for as long as I can. And - this is just the start."

"If this is the start then what's the end?" Steve shook his head, his grin unstoppable.

"Well", Eddie said with a smirk, brushing a kiss against Steve's temple.
"I'm kinda of the assumption that there won't be one. If you're down for that?"

***

𝙵𝚛𝚘𝚖: 𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝@𝚖𝚜𝚗.𝚌𝚘𝚖
𝚂𝚎𝚗𝚝: 𝚆𝚎𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝟷𝟷, 𝟸𝟶𝟶𝟺 𝟸:𝟶𝟸𝙿𝙼
𝚃𝚘: 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝟼𝟽@𝚢𝚊𝚑𝚘𝚘.𝚌𝚘𝚖
𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝚁𝙴 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 

𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚢,

𝙸'𝚖 𝚎-𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚏è 𝚒𝚗 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝚆𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎. 𝙲𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚝? 𝚂𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚊𝚢 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝. 𝙽𝚊𝚢, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎.

𝙸'𝚖 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏, 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝—𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝙷𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚌𝚢𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚡-𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚜𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘. 𝙷𝚎 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢. 𝙾𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢. 𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚍𝚎 𝚋𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍, 𝙸 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 - 𝚗𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕?????

𝙸𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚎.

𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚍𝚢𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚖.

𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠? 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚜 (𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝙸'𝚖 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙).

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚠𝚠𝚠𝚠𝚠 𝙴𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝.

𝚂𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝 𝚞𝚙!!! 𝙸'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝟹 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚑𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚛𝚒𝚋.

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝.

𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚎𝚙𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢...

𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙳!!!!!!!

𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚘𝚞𝚝—𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘—𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃?! 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

𝙼𝚛. 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙼𝚛. 𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗-𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚘𝚗 (𝚘𝚛 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚘𝚗-𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗—𝚠𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗'𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜?). 𝚆𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚘 𝚊 𝚟𝚘𝚝𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚎.

𝚆𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏é 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚗, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜, "𝙷𝚎𝚢, 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎?" 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚋𝚒𝚐 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚝.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚢 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚑𝚒𝚖? 𝙳𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚕 𝚐𝚞𝚢? 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝. 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚜. 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 '𝚞𝚑, 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎' 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚊𝚔𝚎.

𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚊 𝚒𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚍𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚐-𝚍𝚢𝚔𝚎 𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚢. 𝚆𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.

𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚐𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐.

𝚆𝚎 𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢, 𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚅𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚗𝚎𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚠 (𝙶𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙶!!!!) 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝙴𝚕𝚟𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜. 𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚏𝚎𝚌𝚝. 𝙽𝚘 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚢𝚎𝚝—𝚠𝚎'𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝—𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚔𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍, 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙱𝙰𝙼. 𝙷𝚞𝚜𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜.

𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 - 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚝! 𝙰𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍. 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝'𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙱𝚞𝚜𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘.

𝚆𝚎 𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚙𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚍𝚘. 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚌𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚖. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚓𝚘𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚘. 𝙵𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔.

𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 (𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚔𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍). 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚢 - 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚎𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝.

𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞!!! 𝚆𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚢, 𝚖𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚟𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚎.

𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗. 𝚂𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚒 𝚝𝚘 𝙽𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎!!!

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎,
𝙴𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎

𝙿.𝚂. 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚒 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎. 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚍. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, "𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝚁𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖." 𝚂𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝙸 𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚞𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚛. 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

𝙿.𝙿.𝚂 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝. 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚕. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑. 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚢𝚎!!!! 𝚇𝙾

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