#s1ep7

He was paying for everything, as always, and still, Steve was doing his best to make everything even more complicated.

Where was this fighting spirit when they started to have problems in their relationship? Where was all this fire when Eddie was at his lowest, drinking himself stupid every fucking night? Where was this resolve when Eddie told him he wanted a divorce?

Not once in the last five years has Steve stood up for them. Not once did he fight for Eddie. He always lowered his eyes and accepted any kind of stupid thing he was up to.

That’s how Eddie knew they were done. But knowing that and accepting it were two different things.

He had done his best to test Steve’s patience. To provoke a reaction, acting out like a moody teenager, but he got nothing.

Steve was too busy with the kids. And the house. And the neighborhood committee. And the school projects. And before he realized it, they hadn’t made love in four months.

What was he supposed to do?

Eddie was only human after all, and when one of the roadies fell into his arms, he didn’t say no. 

He made him feel desirable and hot, even in his fifties, and Eddie liked it. He enjoyed the way Noah’s eyes lit up every time they shared a glance during soundchecks. He appreciated finding flowers backstage. He got off on the adoring looks Noah gave him.

Noah, unlike Steve, made him feel important. Wanted. He never had a headache or was too tired to have sex.

Noah was younger. 

So young that sometimes Eddie had to go to his nephews and ask for advice. Like the time he wanted to buy him one of the little dolls he was obsessed with. Labibi or something like that. Roxy, Jeff’s daughter, had agreed to help him when he asked, but it was clear she didn’t approve. After all, Noah and Roxy were practically the same age, having been born just a few months apart.

And now, almost two years after that first hook-up with Noah on Gareth’s drums’ chair, here Eddie was. Fighting for a stupid bathtub with his soon-to-be ex-husband.

“You don’t want that stupid thing!” Eddie insists, “You want to annoy me.”

“I wanted it first. Don’t you remember?”

Eddie did remember. He remembered everything. He remembered the first shabby house they rented, in Chicago’s shadiest neighborhood. He remembered the nights they spent hugging each other when they didn’t have the money to pay for the heating. And he remembered the day they found a chipped bathtub with brass lion paws next to the dustbin.

It was dirty, and it weighed more than a dead body. But Steve wanted it, and Eddie helped him take it back to their apartment. For almost a year, they had that stupid thing in the middle of their little living room, but when they finally moved to a bigger apartment, the bathtub looked almost new.

“You wanted it just because it was fancy, and you missed your rich boy lifestyle! I want it because it has been part of our lives for years!”

“I wanted it because it reminded me of my mother! Stupid piece of shit! Some of us aren’t blessed with our mother’s guitar and her diary! Some of us have nothing left of their past! Only a stupid bathtub that looks like hers!”

The air in the meeting room freezes. At their sides, their lawyers are exchanging embarrassed grimaces.

“Mr. Munson, I think it’s better if we stop here for the moment. The meeting is adjourned until-“

“No! Either we sign those fucking papers today, or we go to court! No more stupid meetings! I want this to be finally over, Murray!” 

Eddie’s lawyer looks at him and then at the other lawyer, “Can we take a break?”

Steve’s lawyer turns toward Steve, who nods and gets up so quickly his chair falls down while he rushes toward the door, slamming it open in his haste.

Eddie sighs, slumping against his chair.

How the fuck did they get here?

They were the perfect couple. Everyone envied them. They had it all. They were rich, had a beautiful family, and a fulfilling life. At least that's what Eddie thought before everything crashed.

Steve’s mother’s bathtub.

How cliché of her having a lion paw bathtub. How come Eddie never realized the reason behind Steve's obsession with that fucking thing? Well, it didn’t matter now. Eddie had his own personal reasons for wanting it, and he wasn’t going to let Steve take it from him. Not when he had the house, the kids, and the cat.

No fucking way!

“I’m going to piss,” he announces, annoyed, before leaving the meeting room. 

He’s been in these offices so many times, he knows them like the back of his hand.

He remembers when the office was half the size. Where now stands the receptionist desk, there was the little room where he signed his first contract, right on Murray’s desk. There were just a couple of old, broken chairs that looked like the ones you could have found in a school classroom. Now there are five lawyers, two receptionists, three meeting rooms, and a private little room where Eddie wrote his will just a few years before.

Bathroom.

Right. 

As soon as he reaches out to the handle, someone else leaves the bathroom, keeping the door open for him, and Eddie slips inside quietly.

The stall is so pristine that he feels the distinct desire to draw a huge cock on the back of the door. If only he had taken a pen with him.

He lowers the zipper, ready to relieve himself, when he hears a suffocated sigh. A sigh he knows too well.

It’s Steve. Standing in the stall next to him. Softly crying.

Eddie can almost see him, biting down his fist, his eyes swollen and red while he fights against the tears. Failing miserably.

Steve was never the kind of man who cried in public. Something about his father and being a real man. But Eddie has seen him crying when he thought nobody was there. Eddie’s hand goes to the wall that separates them, caressing it as if it could touch Steve’s face and comfort him.

He’s not a monster. Even if they’re done, he still cares about him.

He has just opened his mouth to call to him when a phone buzzes, and Steve quickly sniffs and composes himself before replying, “Hello?”

His voice is wet, and the person on the other side of the phone must have noticed it.

“No. I’m not crying,” Steve lies, “I’m just tired. You know I haven’t slept well in months.”

A little chuckle.

“No, the kids are amazing. I wasn’t expecting that they would have chosen to stay with me. You know, Eddie was always the cool parent. I’m the boring one, the one that makes them eat their greens and do their homework.”

That’s true. Being always on tour around the world means that when Eddie is home, he lets the kids do whatever they want.

“We’re fighting. Again. Yes. I know we have been fighting for ages, but now… fuck Rob, this time it’s real. This time, he’s not going to come back, and I don’t know what to do. The dream wasn’t this! We promised each other that we would have stayed together in the bad times and in the good ones, but now- fuck, that guy is younger than Roxy! Yes, I know he’s technically an adult, but… It’s over, isn’t it? I need to let go, like my therapist has been telling me.”

A therapist? Since when has Steve been seeing a therapist?

“The bathtub,” Steve says, replying to something Eddie can’t hear, “Yeah, I know you don’t think that it’s worth a fight, but… I like it, okay? It reminds me of my mom and… it was the first project we did together. Every time I look at it, I remember the day we found it. Eddie had to call Gar and the others to help us get it into our apartment and up the three flights of stairs. We ordered pizza and drank beer. Jeff told me he was going to propose to Chrissy, and Gar composed a little song using the pizza boxes as drums. It was nice and familiar, and I want that stupid bathtub because to me, it means something! Eddie wants it because he wants to fuck his new guy in it, and I won’t let him stain all our memories as if it was nothing!”

Eddie never thought fucking Noah in that stupid bathtub. He has nice memories of it as well. He remembers sitting in the bathtub with Steve, who desperately tried to submit Eddie’s unruly hair with tons of products until they finally gave up. He remembers sharing the bathtub, even if it was too small for two grown-up men, and they were crumpled together in the tiny space, watching the sunrise over the horizon. He remembers their fingers intertwined. He remembers the twins playing with yellow rubber ducks. He remembers feeling Steve’s love on his skin every time he turned his back.

How did they come to this? Where are the warm smiles that they used to share every time they locked eyes? Where is the feeling of being just the two of them, even in a room full of people?

“You’re right. Yeah, I’ll do it. No, It’s not worth it. I have to think about the kids and…” a deep breath in, “Rob. I’m scared. What am I going to do now? Eddie was my entire life and now, I feel lost.”

Eddie tightens his fists, resting his forehead against the wall that keeps them separated.

“Yeah. I know… I have the kids’ custody, but how am I going to support them? I don’t want Eddie’s fucking money and…” a soft chuckle, “No. I’m not laughing. I just think that it's unlikely that I’ll become a famous TikToker, you know? Even with the kids' help.”

The kids, Rafael and Gabriel, never lost a single step before deciding to stand with Steve. Eddie can understand that. After all, he was the asshole who was always traveling around, while Steve was the warm, comforting, constant presence. But he wasn't born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and with all the things he has now, he had to work hard to conquer them. His career. His fame. His money. His family. His Steve.

His.

Because Steve was his, from the beginning of time to the end of the world, there was no doubt about it. And the stupid bathtub served as a memorandum.

On the other side of the bathroom stall, Steve was drying his eyes. His voice was still wet, but not dripping with the same pain and despair as it was a few moments before.

“You’re right. I’ll give him the bathtub. I don’t need it. The memories are buried inside my heart, and nobody can take them away from me.”

Another long moment of silence, then a whispered, “I love you,” and the stall door cracking open. He hears a shuffle of footsteps and the slow closing of the restroom door.

Eddie can’t move. Frozen in that stupid bathroom, thinking about what he just realized.

In every timeline, Steve was his. He was sure of it. So how did he fuck up so abysmally that they were now getting a fucking divorce?

Eddie slams the door open, scaring a poor guy who was cleaning his hands, and runs toward the meeting room. Steve and his lawyer aren’t there anymore. In their place is a pile of documents all signed in Steve's neat writing.

“Where is he?”

“You got the bathtub. No need to go to court. Now. If you don’t mind signing here and here and-”

“Where is he?” Eddie asks again.

“Who? The man you loved all your life and betrayed for a good fuck? He left,” Murray replies without even lifting his eyes from the pile of paperwork.

Eddie glares at Murray, regretting the day he dragged Wayne with him and introduced them. Murray has always been a piece of shit, but since he got married to Wayne, he’s become even more unbearable.

“Get him back here! We’re not done yet!” Eddie yells, slamming a fist on the table.

“Oh no, Mr. I know better! We’re fucking done! We lost three months over your stupid stunt, and now that finally Steve has given up, you want to keep playing this sick little game? No fucking way!”

“I just wanted him to fight for me!” Eddie yells, admitting something he was never able to admit even to himself.

“Oh. Don’t tell me, you poor, spoiled brat!”

“I’m not-”

“You are,” Murray cut him off, “You are so fucking childish you didn’t even realize what you gave up! And for what? Huh? A good fuck?!”

“He’s not just a good fuck! Noah makes me feel…” seen, accepted, loved.

All things Steve did as well. However,  in the last few years…

“Oh, come on! People grow up! Evolve! You didn’t! You’re still that little rascal with a secondhand guitar and a wry smile, convinced that you’re the most talented guitarist in the world! And guess what? You’re not! Your luck was having friends like Gareth, Jeff, and Frank who were ready to back you up, and a boyfriend like Steve who worked three jobs to pay for the recording sessions. But no! Poor Eddie! Now that you’re rich and famous, now that you have two amazing children and a husband who loves you from the bottom of his heart, now you screw up! And why? Because your husband isn’t devoting all his attention to you? He’s too busy taking care of the children you insisted on adopting! Good job, you fucking moron!” 

Eddie lowers his eyes.

Those words sound familiar.

“Did you talk to Wayne?”

“Did I speak to my husband about our stupid nephew? Of course I did!” Murray replies, grabbing a white tissue to clean his glasses, “He’s at Steve’s, by the way. Someone had to stay with the kids while you were too far up your own ass.”

“Wayne is at Steve’s?”

At Steve’s. Because that’s not their home anymore.

A little nod, “Now make up your mind once and for all and decide what matters more: the beautiful real life that you already have, or the dream you think you’re living with that boy?”

Eddie doesn’t reply; he grabs the yellow file and runs to his car without saying goodbye.

***

Three months.

Three months and Eddie still hasn’t signed the papers.

Three months in which he has still been able to see the kids, because Steve is too kind-hearted to tell him to go fuck himself.

Three months in which he has started to question all his life choices.

It’s Friday.

Movie day.

Rafael has insisted on inviting Eddie to the family movie night, even if they are not really a family anymore. 

Gabriel wasn’t on the same page, but Steve stopped the fight before it even began, reminding both of them that Eddie will leave for a world tour soon and they won’t see him for months. 

That’s how Eddie ended up sitting on the couch, Rafael asleep in his lap, and Gabriel snoring from the other side of the couch with Steve picking up popcorn from the rug.

“Do you want me to put them to bed?”

In those three months, he never had the opportunity to stay. He just picked up the kids to go to the park, or the mall, or whatever, and he misses holding his kids between his arms and smelling their milky scent.

“Thank you, but there’s no need. You should go home and pack. If I know you, and I do, you haven't even started.”

Eddie hasn’t, but he won’t be admitting that anytime soon.

“Just this once? Please?” Eddie begs, carding his fingers through Rafel's golden locks.

Steve sighs, still kneeling on the floor to find every kennel, “Just for tonight.”

On the way to the kids' room, Eddie catches a glimpse of their bathroom. It looks like it hasn’t been used recently, judging by its emptiness .

"Haven't you used the bathtub?"

“We have a shower.”

“But you love to soak.”

Steve sneers, “Eddie, I’m alone with two four-year-olds. Do you really think I have the time to take a bath? I celebrate when I manage to wash my face.”

Eddie lowers his eyes, “Where did we go wrong?”

“I don’t know, Eddie. I used to think we wanted the same things. But maybe we didn’t.”

“I just… wanted you to see me.” Eddie whispers, slumping against the couch, “I felt like I was losing you. I thought that Noah would make you jealous and you would come back to me.”

“I never came back because there was no place to come back to. You were my home. My life. My everything. And you threw it away for a guy half your age.” A long sigh, “If it were just the two of us, maybe I could have forgiven you. But the kids? They didn’t deserve your shit show, Eddie.”

“I know, I fucked up.”

“Are you going to sign the divorce papers?”

“Do you want me to sign the papers?”

“I want this to be over. It’s too painful for all of us. There are no clear boundaries, and everything is confused. The kids are fighting more than ever. I think that Rafael misses you deeply, and Gabriel is angry with him for not being on his side. They’ve never fought before, not like this. They deserve some peace and quiet, and they won’t get it until things are finally clear.”

“And you? What about you?”

“Eddie. I devoted my entire life to you. Did you really think I didn’t love you anymore just because I was busy with the kids?”

Pulling at his own hair, Eddie lifts his eyes to meet Steve’s, “I love you, Steve. With Noah… it’s over. It’s a funny story. I was going to talk to him, but then he dumped me first. He told me that he was tired of all the family drama and that he was just having fun with a famous rockstar.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not. I would have dumped him if he didn’t dump me first.”

“I thought he was your second chance at life?”

It hurts, but Eddie has to admit he actually said that, “Yeah, I thought he was. But when I realized that I cared more about the bathtub than him, I understood that maybe I wasn’t so madly in love with him as I thought.”

Steve stretches his back, “Listen, it’s getting late, why don’t we go to bed?”

“Can I sleep here?”

“Eddie-”

“Only for tonight! I’ll stay in the guestroom, and I promise I won’t bother you! I just… I feel so lonely at my place.”

“You have a flight to catch tomorrow evening.”

“Plenty of time to pack three pairs of boxers and a couple of t-shirts.”

Steve bites his lip, suffocating a little chuckle, “Okay. Okay. Just for this time.”

The only two times Steve ever stood up to Eddie were when he was protecting the kids and the bathtub argument. Eddie knows he shouldn’t take advantage of his kindness, but it’s late, he’s tired, and the house smells of butter and popcorn and warmth, and he really misses his family.

How could he ever think that being a family man was lame?

Eddie doesn’t sleep; the bed is too small and the springs too noisy, so he’s already awake when two pairs of little feet stop in front of his door and begin bickering at each other.

“Open the door.”

“No, you do it!”

“It was your idea!”

“You agreed to it!”

“He made Dad cry!”

“Dad made him cry too!”

The two four-year-old boys are still quarreling when Eddie opens the door, scaring them so much they fall on the carpet under the amused eyes of Steve’s old cat, Nana.

“You’re not asleep!” Rafael chirps, hugging Eddie’s leg, and Eddie bends immediately to pick him up.

“What are you two doing up at this hour?” It’s almost six, which is not an unusual time for the twins to be awake, but it’s still early.

“Dad is asleep.”

“And we need to talk,” Gabriel adds, crossing his chubby arms in front of his chest.

“Okay…” Eddie drawls, taking the time to look at his kids, “What do you want to talk about?”

“You and Daddy have to make up!” Rafael smiles.

“But you have to tell Daddy that you’re sorry and give him all your candies.”

“All my… okay, yeah, that makes sense.” Or at least he’s sure it does in the mind of a four-year-old.

“We miss you, Papa,” Rafael whispers in Eddie’s ear.

“I don’t!” Gabriel insists.

“You do! And Daddy! And Nana!”

Nana glares at Eddie with her yellow eyes before jumping on the bed and making herself comfortable.

“Boys, Daddy and I had a fight. We can’t just make peace.”

“I know. You have to say you’re sorry before,” Rafael nods to himself.

“And mean it!” The way Gabriel insists, with his hands on his hips, is a perfect little replica of Steve.

“When you’re older, things are a little bit more complicated than these-” Eddie tries to explain, but Rafael stops him.

“We’ll make him breakfast. To say sorry. Come on! The chocolate chips are in the higher cupboard! Dad will get mad if we climb the cabinets again!”

“You did what?”

“Come on! He’ll wake up soon!” Rafael says, grabbing Eddie’s arm and dragging him toward the kitchen in a pair of boxers and Steve’s old Tigers t-shirt.

Once they get there, it’s painfully clear that none of them have any idea how to make cookies, so they look at tutorials on Eddie’s phone, promising they won’t tell Daddy, and they break way too many eggs before understanding the perfect technique to avoid shells in the dough.

When Steve wakes up to the smell of burning sugar and runs to the kitchen, he finds his family covered in flour, egg shells on the counters, and sticky fingers licking the raw dough.

“What the hell is going on?” He asks, a red pillow crease across his left cheek.

“Papa is making cookies. He wants to say he’s sorry. And he’ll give you all his candies!” the kids reply in choir, still sitting on the counter in their matching Batman pajamas.

Steve frowns while Eddie helps the kids down from the counter and tells them to wait for him in their room because they need a shower- all of them.

For once, neither of them complains.

“Can we watch tv while we wait?” Rafael asks.

Steve pats the kids’ backs, “You can watch one episode of Bluey, just one.” Then he turns to Eddie. “What is all this about?”

“Listen. It wasn’t my idea, okay? The kids thought it would be good to ask for forgiveness and make cookies.”

“Mnh…”

“They told me they miss me and they want me back.”

“They’re kids, Eddie.”

“I know, but I haven’t signed the papers, not yet. And the bathtub is still here, so… I was wondering if maybe…”

“No. You’re not getting back into our lives just to fuck us up and—”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I know I made a mess, and I know you’re right not wanting me back. But I miss you! I miss the kids! I miss everything we had! I was an idiot taking it for granted!”

“It hurt, Eddie. It fucking hurt! Seeing you with that boy! Knowing you were willing to give up all we had for someone half your age! I… I…”

“Steve, I’m begging you! I know I have no right, but it’s all I can do. I want to fix this, I want to fix everything. I was a fool, and I see that now! You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I was too egotistical to see how much you were doing for our family!”

“Eddie. We have two kids. Responsibilities. I can’t forgive you like nothing happened. You broke our family, and you broke my trust. In a few hours, you’ll fly to the other side of the world, touring for months! How can I trust what you’re saying when you’re going to be faced with temptation every single day?”

Eddie runs to the living room, fishes some crumpled papers from his jacket pocket, and signs the divorce papers in front of Steve.

“These are the divorce papers. Signed. All I ask is that you don’t turn them in until I get back. I’ll prove that I love you and our family. I promise I’ll make it all up to you. Please believe me, Stevie!”

Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Well… It’s not like people are queuing outside the door to date a divorced dad.”

“Their loss. You’re the hottest dad I’ve ever met. A real, bona fide DILF!”

“Eddie! The kids!” Steve replies, half-offended, half-amused.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise!”

Steve bites his lip, indecision painted in every crease of his forehead, then he lowers his head with a big sigh, “If we do this again, it’ll be slow. No promises I can’t keep. I’ll keep the signed papers, and if I decide to go through with it, you won’t have a say. Acceptable?”

Eddie nods.

It won’t be easy. Eddie has to earn Steve’s trust all over again. A long, painful process. But this time, he won’t be wasting his chance.

“I love you. I’ll miss you and the kids every day while I’m gone. The only thing keeping me together will be the memory of you… and the bathtub. The most comfortable bathtub I’ve ever used. Maybe we’ll bathe together again someday.”