“Come again…?” Eddie was hoping that maybe some weed would mellow out Steve’s drunken stupor a bit, but it seemed like the guy had been well and truly determined to be miserable. It was impossible to suss out why when Steve was soaked in liquor and making no sense a good portion of the time.
“Steve–” Okay they’d kissed once or twice, and they’d sure been close after everything they’d gone through together. He had been aching to talk to Steve about what they were supposed to do about… them. What they were supposed to be. Where the hell was Steve getting the impression that he would be looking at someone else right now. He clicked his jaw shut and decided that poking the sad drunk bear would probably be a bad decision.
“Don’t worry Princess. I only have eyes for you.”
The truth of Steve’s misery was really quite simple; he’d come home to a voicemail that explained away yet another forthcoming absence from his parents, which held no pleasantries for him beyond a to-do list that did nothing but feed his fears of inadequacy. It’d taken all of half an hour before he’d broken into his father’s liquor cabinet, and downed about six shots of whiskey, then proceeded to take an extremely risky drive over to Eddie’s.
How he’d managed to get there without ending up in a ditch was anybody’s guess, really.
“Y’mean that?” The younger man’s tone sounded no less sincere while steeped in booze than it did without, and held the same warmth as the arms that wound themselves carefully around the other’s neck. He shifted closer still, sapping more of the metalhead’s body heat while fixing his bleary hazel eyes on him with purpose. “Mm... can I kiss you, Eddie?”
