Dustin got in the car, silently, even uncharacteristically closing the door quietly for a change. Steve looked over at him a few times, gauging why he was acting so strange. Dustin had met members of his family many times, he'd slept over a few times and knew Daniel and Claire well. He didn't particularly like either of them, but neither did Steve on days ending with a Y.
But, this was different. Or, maybe it was entirely unrelated; yet it only seemed to happen after he'd left Dustin alone with his grandpa Matthew for a few minutes- aaaaand Dustin was crying, okay something was actually very wrong.
"Hey, hey - talk to me, please. What's going on?" Steve asked, shifting as he tried to unbuckle, so he could directly look at Dustin, who was wiping at his face.
"Your grandpa is really attractive," Dustin got out between sniffles.
"Okay," Steve started slowly, searching his face. "You're having a stroke or something. I'm going to carry you back inside and call 911." Steve said, going for the door, but Dustin grabbed his arm, shaking his head repeatedly.
"No- Steve, I'm...fuck, Steve. Steve, I'm in love with you." Dustin blurted out, tear streaks still red on his face. He was such an ugly crier, Steve hated seeing him like this. The fear in his eyes, the uncertainly there, how he held himself smaller in that moment.
"I... don't follow? At all?" Steve whispered, looking down at where Dustin's hand was clenched into his sleeve. "Are you sure you're not having a stroke?"
"Yes," Dustin looked mildly irritated, even covered in snot and saline. "I just...I was talking to your grandpa, and he was telling me about his time in the war. He had a best friend, you know... He didn't make it."
Steve had heard that before, the guy was named Steven. He'd grown up with his grandpa, they both enlisted together, and Steven saved his grandpa's life by sacrificing himself. It was a scar left on the family, and his grandfather had supposedly been a very outgoing person before the war - though Steve had only known him as a quiet old man.
"What does that have to do with..." Steve didn't want to say the words. Dustin wasn't in love with him, not really. Right? No, of course not.
Why did that disappoint him?
"I was thinking, oh, he's attractive for an old guy. Full head of hair, clearly genetic, very distinguished looking. I thought about you being his age, and I was just... His friend, who clearly loved him, he never got to see Matt as an old man. Steve, I want to see you everyday. Forever. I want to see you as a hot grandpa." Dustin finished, voice shaking. The car felt like their entire world in that minute, and the colors outside the windows blurred together, and not just because Steve refused to wear his glasses.
"You're going to be an ugly old man," Steve told him, and Dustin's brows scrunched together in a way that made him look a bit like a disgruntled carp. "... I'd be glad to have you prove me wrong."
Steve watched the wheels and cogs turn in Dustin's mind, before a slow smile spread across his face. "You'll have to stick around to find out."
"Guess so," Steve answered him, holding eye contact until he felt It. The spark. The electricity. Dustin leaned in a bit, and Steve did the same, until they accidentally bumped noses. It hurt, but Dustin pushed forward and kissed him properly, nose ache and all. It was awkward doing it sideways in his truck, but it was perfect none the less.
"Don't ever tell anyone we got together because I said your grandpa was sexy." Dustin breathed out against his lips, and Steve pulled away, glaring accusatorially at him.
"Because he looks like you! Is that so wrong?!"
"Oh my god, Henderson..."
yousharknotpass
dailybridgerton
tangentwithtanner
annaxmalina
baratheonpilled
pixelskylines
dededos
vaporwave
