"Steve, are you listening to me?"
Steve snaps back into focus, his attention falling from the dreamlike headspace he'd been in and crash landing back to Earth.
He doesn't mean to drift, he just- he can't help it when the shirt he's wearing rubs just right over the long scratches Eddie had left on his back last night.
When he can feel the individual bruises from each of Eddie's fingers where they had grabbed his hips, had pulled him back to meet every sharp snap of Eddie's own.
When his scalp still tingles from where his hair had been grabbed, his head wrenched back and out of the bedding because "I wanna hear every noise that comes out of that pretty fucking mouth, baby."
He'd barely been able to sit in his car this morning thanks to the stinging handprints that had been left on his ass and thighs, and he's reminded of each bite and bruise left over his collar bones - and his shoulders, and his chest - with every beat of his heart.
And he can't- he can't even give it as an excuse because Robin doesn't know- no one else knows yet that Eddie is alive, that he made his way back topside, that he's different.
No one else knows that he's been feeding off of Steve and the younger has been begging him for it, for the aches and the pains and the best fucking sex he's ever had in his life.
Steve knows the others wouldn't approve, knows they wouldn't like him putting his life at risk even though it means keeping Eddie alive, keeping him as close to human as he can get right now.
So instead he gives an apologetic smile and pushes a hand through his hair, tries to push those thoughts to the back of mind, to save them for later.
"Yeah, sorry Robs, I'm listening."
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