#post s4

"Stevie, can you come here for a minute!"

"Yeah sure Ed's, what's up?"

Steve doesn't rush to Eddie's room, guessing it's just another tiny spider in need of relocation. So, empty glass and junk mail in hand Steve is not particularly prepared for Eddie's state when he stops in Eddie's doorway. Eddie seems harried, sitting in the middle of the floor seemingly packing up everything he owns.

"You going on a trip I don't know about?"

Steve huffs a slightly nervous laugh. Maybe Eddie's energy isn't cause for panic, maybe it's good news, maybe the band has a gig, maybe the band has been signed! Maybe that would be cause for Steve to panic, he's not prepared himself for a goodbye.

Just as Steve's thoughts start to spiral Eddie's words fall out of his mouth in a hurry, tripping over one another, a mix of soft panic and loud mumbles.

"No. Yes. Fuck. Maybe?... I have to move out. Maybe move in with Robs and Chris? Or maybe you should move in with them, or they could move here and I could go there, their place is smaller, so three would fit better here. Oh shit! I haven't even spoken to them yet. This is a mess. I'm a mess. Fuck."

"Hey hey, Eds calm down, what's wrong, huh? Why do you have to move out? We've lived together for what, five years? My damp towel problem can't be that bad?"

By now it's all panic, a panic Steve is heroically (if he does say so himself) managing to put aside, in lieu of an aura of calm he's attempting to put off. Lowering himself to sit next to Eddie, not quite touching but close enough that Eddie can take the physical comfort if he needs it. Steve laughs again, a small huff of amused air, levity.

"How can you make jokes at a time like this!? I've literally just realised I've been in love with you for five years, maybe more? Probably more! Definitely more!... And I'm gay!? What the fuck? Gay!?..."

Breathing is no longer Eddie's friend, hyperventilation has taken that role.

"...And I don't know how to turn this love off so I can't live with you until I'm over it and we can just go back to normal. Well, a normal where I want to kiss men I guess."

"Woah woah, that's a lot to take in Ed's. I'm gonna have to sit down..."

During Eddie's impromptu confession, there's a chance Steve lost his calm air, along with oxygen to his brain. He is already sitting.

"You're in love with me?"

"Of course I am you gorgeous idiot. And if I'd worked out that straight guys actually want to kiss girls, and not their very not girl best friends, sooner I could've already gotten over it and this wouldn't be happening!!"

"You're in love with me...."

"For five plus years, yes. And oh my god you're going out with that girl from work, Stacey? Sandra? Sally? The pretty one with the blonde hair and the hips..."

Steve really wants Eddie to stop talking, to get his head out of his hands, to look at him, to say the words again. But Steve can't move.

"...That's how I found out. You haven't been on a date in five years Stevie and then you mentioned her and this buzzing, bubbling feeling inside me was so intense, I've never felt anything like it, I'd never been jealous before, and there you were saying it was probably time for you to go on a date, and all I could think was why not me? We hang out on Friday nights. We watch Gilmore Girls until the early hours. We make dinner for each other and fall asleep on the couch together after a long day at work. Then... Fuck. Am I jealous? Fuck. I'm in love with Steve! Fuck. I'm gay. No wonder Mindy in the 9th grade didn't make my knees weak. Fuck. I have to leave. And here we are."

Finally Eddie takes a breath, letting his arms fall to his lap, briefly using them to wave around the room, emphasising the current, this, of it all.

And finally, finally Steve can move, turn to Eddie and say something.

"Eds, look me in the eye and tell me you love me, romantically, like you really do. I need to know you're not messing with me."

Eye to eye, finally.

"Steve Harrington, I love you. I have loved you since I met you, and although I've only been conscious of it for less than 48 hours, it is the most honest and passionate feeling I have ever felt in my entire life. And if you need me to I will push it away and hold it at arms length to still be your friend but I fear it will still stay with me until the day I die."

Steve could cry, maybe he already is. His hands reach out, cupping Eddie's cheeks, not only forcing his gaze but brushing the soft skin under his thumb, holding him in a way he's always wanted permission to, that has finally been granted.

"Fuck. Fuck Eds. I've been in love with you since the week before we got this place. I've known about it, and felt it, and kept it at arms length. I thought maybe you were ace or something? You never mentioned girls, or guys, or anyone for that matter. I figured romance wasn't for you. I didn't want to scare you away. The only reason I went on that date was because Robs told me it was time to move on. I wish I'd done that sooner. Fuck. I am so in love with you, and I am going to need you to kiss me right now before I wake up."

They crash together, finally.

Written for the third of the @steddiemicrofic 3rd year anniversary celebration prompts, micro | WC: 555 | Rating: E | CW: 18+ SMUT MDNI insecure!Eddie, body worship, mention of scars, oral sex, cum eating | Tags: Post-S4, semi-established relationship

Steddie masterlist | General masterlist

Eddie feels like he's under a microscope. It's a sunny afternoon, and he's never been examined in such detail before. Ordinarily he'd be uncomfortable, squirming under such close scrutiny. What if they dislike his body? What if the more they see the less they want? What if they somehow uncover his true self? What if they run…? 

But today, Steve's inspecting every curve of muscle, every crease, every inch of skin, every freckle, inked line and perceived imperfection. And all Eddie can do is lie there and take it. 

Hi. I'm a Japanese fic writer, and I've finally decided to bring my BBC Sherlock / Johnlock stories into English.

Nagori (名残) is a Japanese word for what a thing leaves behind once it's gone — the warmth still in a room after someone has left it, the sea still on the sand after the wave has drawn back. Not the memory of a thing. The trace of it, still here.

There are six of these stories, written over the years in Japanese. I'm now translating, revising, and letting them loose in English for the first time. They come in two halves, and the two don't share a premise, so you can start from either end.

—

Two of them sit just before The Sign of Three — after Sherlock's return, in the days around John's wedding. In these, they were already lovers before the Fall, which is the cruellest way I could think of to arrange it. Everything gets taken from them, and only then do we find out what's left.

Last Waltz, Reverse Turn. Three days before John's wedding, Sherlock teaches him to waltz. It is supposed to be their last lesson.

Land's End The morning after, Sherlock puts John in a car and drives west. Neither of them quite knows what they're running towards, or away from.

—

The others pick up after that hug at the end of The Lying Detective. After Mary, after the worst of it, when there's nothing left to be right about. Two people who have wrecked each other, forgiving each other anyway — which is a thing I wanted to see, and had to write in order to see.

The birthday gift

Twenty-Two Minutes and Thirty Seconds

Still Falling

Sorry, Sherlock and A Month, He Said are still in the works. They'll turn up here first.

—

The Keeping Box Short pieces. Nothing here costs anything; they are the small things that were kept. Each stands alone.

—

If you'd rather have it all in one place, everything is on AO3 → [profile link]

—

One thing said plainly: I write in Japanese first, and then work the English back and forth through AI translation tools until the register matches what I wrote. Every choice about meaning and voice is mine. I'd rather tell you now than have you find it out later.

My ask box is open and I answer everything. If one of these landed somewhere in you, I'd like to know where.

Apparently this is what I'm doing with my life now.

“Be real though, Ed. Harrington? You can’t actually be serious, here.” Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle. Which is to say he totally does it. He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it. “You got me,” Eddie sighs, longer and deeper than can be taken wholly seriously. “I’m running my longest successful con to date.”

rating: t ♥️ tags: post-s4, established relationship, corroded coffin, as in: the gang’s all here and being VERY JUDGEMENTAL of eddie’s taste in men, and maybe steve had to pick eddie up from practice today so he overhears it WHOLLY WITHOUT INTENDING TO OKAY?, no one ever REALLY want to hear what the people they love really think of them when said people don’t know who all’s actually listening, true love, declarations of feelings, it’s actually really fucking hard to stand up to your friends, happy ending♥️

for @steddielovemonth day ten: "We are all a little weird and life's a little weird, and when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall in mutual weirdness and call it love." —Dr. Seuss

also! Unnamed Freak is Doug for the purpose of this fic because the book can fuck itself I say so 🖤

“Be real though, Ed,” the voice that filters through, and holds Steve’s hand from pushing the car door shut loud enough to notice, is fairly reasonable, like trying to talk down a suggestion absurd enough to send someone to the ER—which means, of the subjects at hand? It’s gotta be Jeff.

“You can’t actually be serious, here.”

Steve doesn’t like to eavesdrop, like, on principle.

Which is to say he totally does it.

He just doesn’t wholly approve of it, or think it’s a very good habit to have, while still doing it.

“You got me,” Eddie deadpans, but it’s like, venom-laced. It stings just to hear and Steve’s struck with how much his life’s changed since Spring Break, and more still since…well.

Since Eddie.

Because Steve is well aware the man can cut glass with how sharp his tongue can get, they did go to high school together whether they ran in the same circles or not.

It’s just strikes Steve in the moment that not once since Vecna, has Eddie turns that tongue on him.

Now, other uses of his tongue—

“I’m running my longest successful con to date. Yep, totally pulled it over on all you bitches,” and where it could be playful, every single word is sharpened to stab, to pierce, to drag the wound out so it bleeds, like a shiv to remind someone where they fucked up, in perpetuity.

“Please applaud.”

And oh, even Steve flinches at that tone, and he’s not even the target. Hell, he’s still in the driveway—he doesn’t make a rule of crashing band practice, no matter whose parents’ garage they’re using; Eddie’s van is just regularly in the shop for one thing or another, so he’s gotta come get his man. But he doesn’t, like, push his way in. Sometimes doesn’t even get out of the driver’s seat. He knows Eddie would more than welcome him; has the handful of times he’s ventured to step in to apologize for interrupting but remind him they have to pick up the shitheads. But one: Eddie is alone in his welcome, and like, the polar opposite of the other three guys, who range from staring daggers at Steve to sneering so scrunched up to the nose that it’d give Carol Perkins at her snittiest a run for her money.

And Steve wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know how to recognise where he’s not wanted, and learn how to make the calculated decision of whether to walk or push his way in. And much as he loves Eddie? Steve actually wants his friends to eventually come around from probably, like, muttering ancestral curses under their breaths at him or something.

Plus, from what Steve understands? Jam sessions are personal. Sacred. Eddie had blushes and stammered the first time he let Steve listen in on works in progress; and Steve had rewarded him for the gift of it liberally and with genuine gusto. It’s earned him repeat performances on the regular, but Steve gets it’s a private thing in general. And these guys don’t know him, don’t presently care to—don’t trust him.

He figures it’s like…masturbating in front of someone. The art thing, the depth of making music and stuff. Showing your soul a little bit, losing control for the betterment of the final product.

Now, he and Eddie definitely have masturbated together, it’s actually fantastic foreplay, or even just a deliciously sloppy go on its own. But that’s neither here nor there. And also totally fucking different.

Steve really doesn’t want Eddie masturbating in front of anyone other than him, ever again. Steve’s sure as shit not looking to on his end; definitely not with the other members of Corroded fucking Coffin.

The metaphor might have gotten away from him. But you get the picture.

“No, man,” and that’s, that’s Gareth’s voice, Steve’s almost sure. Sharper. Concerned but also caustic on the undertow. “It’s just,” he snorts, the disbelieving sort: “this can’t be real.”

Okay, yeah. Tone plus actual words add up.

“Yeah, just,” Doug laughs a little nervous, like of all of them, Eddie’s verbal attack had the most weight in tempering his response of the three of them; “blink twice if you’re being held against your will.”

They all chuckle, but it’s toned down the whole way around—even Steve can clock that. These guys are boisterous when left to their devices, Steve’s taken note of that. Mostly watching from the sidelines—almost exclusively when they don’t know he’s there to watch.

Again: does not condone eavesdropping.

Does not try at all to refrain from doing it.

“I mean, you don’t expect us to believe you’re actually fucking him,” and oh, yeah, okay: Steve was pretty sure he was the topic conversation here, and despite some of the setbacks of recent years, he’s not insecure when it comes to relationships especially.

He’s definitely the only one fucking Eddie. And Eddie’s the only one fucking him.

And while he doesn’t really hold it against these guys for being wary of him—he wasn’t really a perpetrator of their high school woes, but he definitely didn’t do anything to make them less…woeful—so he’s mostly bummed about it for Eddie’s sake, and on principle, but like, seriously.

Doubting Steve successfully scoring Eddie Munson? Like, Eddie’s a catch, Steve of ll people is well aware, but. Steve’s also been long past fishing the shallow end of the pond, y’know?

Give him some credit.

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

Responsible Adults by J_Baillier

Johnlock Love Letters #2420

Another @spacedlexi post s4 piece.

Even 10 yrs later, Clementine hates waking up early, but Violet loves watching her struggle to wake up. She thinks it’s adorable and it’s her favorite part of the day.

The best present Eddie can give to Steve on their first Christmas together is being alive to spend it with him.

The whole Upside Down business has been dealt with at last, but the consequences of Spring Break 1986 linger on and will do so for the years to come, as victory had not come cheap. But they will be alive to deal with those consequences, which is more than either thought they would get when Steve had dropped onto his knees next to Eddie barely alive and Dustin crying his heart out next to him.

And here they now are, in a new city and an apartment they share with Robin, far enough away from Hawkins that Eddie’s reputation hasn’t followed him, thankfully his most important people have.

They’re expecting Wayne to come over later in the day, but the morning is just for the two of them, to just be and appreciate having survived, food and family time is slated for later.

“You’re my best gift ever,” Steve tells Eddie, kissing the words into his neck as he holds him close, hands roaming over scars and inked skin.

“Aww, sweetheart. You’re the gift I never thought I’d get to have.”

They are being utterly sappy and ridiculous, but neither of them care a flying fuck. They survived, are surviving, and they are thriving, doing so while being so much in love. It’s a bit scary, being so in love, and it might come tumbling down some day, because they both know that the world can turn your life upside down when you least expect it.