I have a feeling that beneath the little halo on your noble head
There lies a thought or two the devil might be interested to know
You're like the finish of a novel that I'll finally have to take to bed
You fascinate me so
Sometimes I need to go back into my deep love towards theatre, musicals, ballet and so on - still manifesting/praying/summoning all the supreme entities to make the David and Michael reunion at theatre (involving as much tango, bolero jackets and period costumes as possible) happen🕯️🕯️✨ - aaaaaaand I need to say that I've spent a very long and respectful time drawing their... figures. So, I hope it was worth it🙊🩷
Eddie's not even sure how it started. The argument. The fight. They're fighting and he has no idea how they got here.
It's not like they've never done it before, but normally he can trace back the steps, see the exact moment Eddie snapped something a little too harshly or Steve pushed something a little too far.
Today, it was like one second they were fine and the next Steve is accusing him of not caring and Eddie's defensive streak is throwing that right back at him.
"Sometimes it doesn't feel like you want a relationship; just an audience."
"Yeah, well, sometimes it feels like all you want is a relationship and that it doesn't even matter if it's with me!"
There's a heavy pause as they stare at each other; Steve's posture defeated and Eddie's defensive.
"So why are we even—"
"That's not true." Steve's tone is soft but Eddie allows himself to be cut off.
He's pretty sure he was about to proffer a breakup, or at least turn the conversation - argument - in that direction, so he lets himself be interrupted.
It's not what he wants. He knows it's not what he wants. But sometimes his default is give-up-before-they-do. The Munson Special. But just because it's his instinct doesn't mean it's what he actually wants.
Sometimes he feels like a stray dog Steve found on the side of the road; desperate for affection and clinging overwhelmingly to its new owner. Like if he holds on tight enough he'll never have to beg for scraps again. Other times he's that same dog turned antisocial. Cruel. Lashing out at the person showing it kindness because it doesn't recognise it. Doesn't think it deserves it.
"That's not true." Steve shakes his head, eyes puppy-dog sad. It's like a blade to Eddie's gut. "I care so much that it's you. About you. I went on, like, hundreds of dates with hundreds of girls," Eddie rolls his eyes a little dramatically at this. Sure, his boyfriend's a catch but he doesn't need to show off about it. Steve continues as if Eddie hadn't reacted at all. "And a few with some guys, too, after, y'know, figuring some stuff out…"
They both know Eddie is the 'some stuff'. Being the reason Steve realised he liked dudes was a pretty good ego-boost usually, but right now he doesn't feel like gloating the way he normally would.
"I had so many chances to start a relationship just 'cause I felt like it, and I didn't! I didn't, but the second I realised you liked me back I was all in. Not because I wanted a relationship. Because I wanted you, Eds."
Steve's always been better at the sappy shit than he is - so infuriatingly earnest sometimes that Eddie feels himself dance away from the feeling it bubbles up inside of him. Street dog verses genuine emotion, he supposes.
Steve's hand twitches forward, like he wants to hold Eddie's but isn't sure if he's allowed. Eddie hates whenever he brings that out in him. The insecurity set in place by absentee parents and rooted in deeper by a cheating girlfriend (look, Eddie loves Nance, he does, but he also kind of hates her too).
Eddie needs to man up. He knows that (though he thinks the phrase itself is gross and Robin would probably smack him for using it).
"I'm sorry." It's a strong start, he's pretty sure. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I don't even believe it, baby, I promise. You're so good at loving me, sometimes I don't know what to do with it."
Steve blinks, looking at first caught off-guard, probably by Eddie's rare show of sincerity, and then sweetly confused.
"You don't… Have to do anything with it, just… I don't know, loving me back would be nice."
Eddie's heart thuds in his chest.
"I do, sweetheart, I love you so much."
"I know. I love you too. I'm sorry for what I said too, that was such a dick—"
"No, no, honestly, I… I know sometimes I can focus too much on my own shit and ignore the things you like. And I sort of… Make you do the same." Steve makes to interrupt and Eddie just knows he's going to deny it. "No, no, I do, I'm always having us watch horror movies, or listen to my music, or I'm talking about what books I like, and my DnD plans, and—"
"I like hearing about stuff you like, I do," Steve insists, so earnest it breaks Eddie's heart a little more.
"I know, baby, I know. But I also know it doesn't leave much space for you to talk sportsball and cars and whatever weird foreign film Rob has you watching any given week. And, like, even when you try sometimes I get all on my soapbox about it - especially your basketball stuff, which is so shit of me because I know how much you love it, and I love how much you love it, it just… I don't know, it's like it's instinct at this point."
There's a moment of silence. It looks like Steve is building up to something, so Eddie waits it out. He's pretty sure he'd wait anything out for Steve.
"It does, um…" Steve pauses, eyes darting from Eddie's shoulder, to the floor to the wall. He twists his hands in front of him, and Eddie knows what it looks like when Steve cracks his chest open to let his vulnerable parts show. "Sometimes, when you cut me off and start talking shit about it all, it just… I don't know. It's dumb and silly but it makes me feel dumb and silly for liking stuff you hate so much. I started bringing stuff up less and I guess instead of helping all that did was bottle it up 'til I took it out on you tonight, so I'm sorry for that."
"Oh, baby," Eddie murmurs, heartbroken that he's done such a thing to someone he loves so much. He reaches his hand out instinctively, bringing it up to press against the back of Steve's neck. He doesn't push him, just lets the gentle pressure be an invitation.
It's accepted.
Steve melts forward into Eddie, head pressing into his shoulder and arms wrapping around his waist. Eddie shifts to envelope Steve in his own arms, bringing one hand up to hold the back of Steve's head.
"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry I've made you feel that way, sweetheart. You are not dumb or silly or any of those things. I'm just a little bit of an asshole, I think."
Steve lets out a wet little laugh and Eddie grins. The tears aren't great, obviously, but Eddie will always take a laugh as a win.
"I'll do better. I'll try. I don't want you to bottle stuff up around me; especially not the good stuff - the stuff that makes you happy." Steve hums a little into Eddie's collarbone, acknowledging, if not quite agreeing. "Maybe we'll find some great love for basketball deep within me, who knows?"
There's another laugh, less choked this time, and Steve lifts his head. He's so, so beautiful, red-rimmed eyes and all, and Eddie feels just how lucky he is like a flood.
"I love you," he says, the words not feeling big enough.
"I love you too," Steve replies, tension dropping from his shoulders. Eddie's never seen anything so gorgeous in his life, he thinks.
It's probably not the last time Eddie's going to fuck up catastrophically, but he's sure as shit going to try to avoid this particular type of fuck-up in future.
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