Because of You
Steve’s not great at taking care of himself.
Everyone else, sure; he’ll bug them to hell and back about eating, about drinking water, about getting outside to see the sun. He’ll force vegetables down his kids’ throats if he has to.
But himself? He knows he’s not worth it. He knows he doesn’t need to take up that much space, that many resources. He gets by, eats when he needs to, drinks water if he remembers.
But he takes care of his people. And lately, his people has included one Eddie Munson.
“Hey, Eds,” he says, staring blankly at the wall as he cradles the phone to his ear.
“Hi, Steve. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, fine. Just wanted to check in, y’know? Make sure you’re doing alright.”
“Yeah, m’fine. How’re the kids?”
Steve chuckles. “The little shits are great. Driving me crazy, like always. Dustin claims he hates you because of whatever you pulled last Friday during the game.”
“Campaign, Steve.” He chuckles too. “Yeah, I was a little bit evil. It was a lot of fun. Henderson’s full of shit.”
“I know,” Steve answers. “We all do. He does. I think he gets his dramatics from you.”
Eddie gasps. Dramatically. “How dare,” he says, then immediately starts laughing when Steve does. “Hey, Steve?”
“Yeah, Eddie?”
He’s quiet now, serious. “How are you?”
Steve lets a quiet little chuckle slip out. “M’alright.”
“Just alright?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m fine, Munson, c’mon, quit worrying.”
“You’re always taking care of everyone,” Eddie says, bold like he knows Steve won’t stop him. He’s right, but still. “But who takes care of you?”
“You’re right,” Steve deflects. “I do take care of everyone. Speaking of which, have you eaten today?”
Eddie doesn’t laugh. “Have you?”
“Eddie.”
“Steve.”
“No.” Hesitant, quiet.
“Will you?”
“I don’t know.”
“For me?” Parroting Steve’s tone. Hesitant, quiet.
“For you? I- Yeah. I might… need help.”
“That’s okay. Want me to come over?”
“I don’t- no. Just… over the phone?”
Eddie hums. “I can do that. What’re you in the mood for?”
Steve huffs a humorless laugh. “Nothing.”
“Not really gonna cut it here, babe.” They both ignore the slip. “Want choices?”
Steve sighs. “Dunno. Sure.”
“Do you have the energy for anything involving more than five steps?”
“I- guess? If I have to?”
“So that’s a no,” Eddie says, mostly to himself. “PB and J?”
Steve makes a face. “What am I, Dustin?”
“You’re about as stubborn as him right now, yeah, and he gets that from you.”
“Fuck you too.”
“Maybe later. PB and J? Yes or no?”
Steve sighs again. “Fine.”
“Okay, good. Which phone are you using?”
“The one in the kitchen.”
“Okay, good, so you can narrate to me what you’re doing.”
Steve sighs. “We really don’t have to do this-”
“Y’know, I kinda think we do. Up and attem, Stevie-boy, first things first is bread.”
Steve groans, but goes and gets the bread, narrating the rest of it without prompting. “And you?” He asks after his sandwich is made. “Have you eaten?”
“Uh… no.”
“Goddamn hypocrite.”
“I forgot! It’s not an energy thing, I literally just… forgot. That I need to eat.”
“Right, because that makes perfect sense.”
He imagines Eddie rolling his eyes. “It does in my head,” Eddie argues. “I’ll eat, I swear. I’ll do it right now if it’ll make you feel better.”
“Yeah,” Steve agrees quietly.
“Okay,” Eddie says, just as quietly. “Give me one second, I’m in my room, let me switch over to the one in the kitchen.”
“M’kay.”
A few seconds later Eddie’s back, panting slightly as he opens the fridge. “Okay. Shit, we need to go shopping. There’s not much to have in here. Uh… cheese? And tortillas? I could do a quesadilla?”
Steve snickers. “Who’re you, Mike?”
“Hey, fuck you, Harrington.”
“Maybe later,” Steve parrots.
He imagines Eddie rolling his eyes again. “Anyways. I’m just gonna think out loud while I cook, if you don’t mind, ‘cause there’s this one part of a song that I can’t quite nail down, right? I’ve got the melody and I’ve got most of the lyrics, and that’s what’s really giving me issues-”
Twenty minutes later he’s tossing the burnt quesadilla into the trash and hanging up to dial a pizza place. Steve laughs at him long after the line’s gone dead.
It keeps happening, is the thing. Steve asks if Eddie’s eaten, Eddie asks if Steve has, and they’ll eat over the phone together. One time, Steve changes the script. Says yes when Eddie asks if Steve wants him to come over. “Okay,” Eddie says. “I’ll be there in twenty.”
He arrives promptly when he said he would and proceeds to make himself at home in Steve’s kitchen, going through his fridge without a qualm. “Ooh, you’ve got rich people food, can I use it?” He holds up various vegetables as an example.
Steve snorts. “Sure.”
“M’kay. I’m gonna make stir fry, ‘cause I saw this recipe and have been dying to try it. Anything you don’t want?”
Steve shrugs. “‘M not really picky.”
Eddie cooks, and they eat, and Eddie makes Steve laugh five more times, even though he feels like shit, and Steve makes Eddie laugh too, and it feels more like an accomplishment than it should.
They keep flirting, too. They both know, and it’s not that they’re scared to say it, they just know it’s not time yet. Neither of them know when it will be time, but they both know they will know.
It confuses Steve if he thinks about it for longer than five seconds.
Then, one day, it comes to a head. Steve arrives at Eddie’s trailer, unannounced, eyes shining with something that has Eddie treading carefully. “Steve?”
“Eddie.” He swallows, looks around. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Nah, you’re always welcome here. C’mon, let’s go sit on the couch, you look like you have something you want to say.”
Steve swallows again. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” Eddie sits, watches as Steve does the same. “What’s up?”
“I like you,” Steve blurts out. “I know you know I do, and I know you like me, and we both know that we both like each other, but I realized it’s… it’s something else, Eds, because I- I ate. And it was hard but I did it by pretending your voice was in my ear, telling me I could do it, reminding me of the next step, and it was just a sandwich but-” he looks away, swipes at his eyes. “I did it,” he whispers. “I did it for you. Because of you. And I don’t know what the fuck we’re doing, man, why we’re dancing around each other, but I don’t want to anymore.” He shakes his head, looks directly in Eddie’s eyes. “I wanted to say it, to lay it out, and let you do what you will. Because I trust you. I feel safe with you. I believe you’ll take care of me, because you’ve already proven you will.”
Eddie swallows, eyes glassy. “I forgot to eat,” he whispers, and Steve laughs.
“That’s okay. I’ll remind you.”
“And on the days neither of us have the energy?”
“We rock-paper-scissors for who calls the pizza place.”
Eddie laughs, then. “Okay,” he whispers. “Okay, Stevie.”
“Okay,” Steve agrees, and moves to lean into Eddie’s side.
They don’t kiss, not yet. They don’t need to. They both know. They get up a few minutes later, and Eddie finds something to eat, and Steve sits on the counter and teases Eddie with something akin to pure happiness shining in his eyes.
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For the three people asking for this
There is indeed going to be a sequel to Sailing By and, thankfully, it's gonna be from Ellie's POV:
About a month after the Winterman case wraps up, Hardy arrives at an early-morning shout looking… off.
"You all right?" she asks, not really listening to whatever grunt he makes in acknowledgement. His stubble has got tidied up, his neck shaved so that it all looks like a halfway respectable beard. He's wearing a grey suit with a darker grey button-up she's never seen before, but it doesn't look fresh, exactly. It almost seems like—
"No," she says, suspicion growing along with her grin as she watches him blush. It's a comprehensive one: starts at his neck and flashes clear up to his hairline. His very messy hairline, even messier than usual. "Really?"
"What are you talking about?" he demands, running the words together the way he does when he's guilty of something.
"Oh, nothing," she says, grabbing their drinks off the ledge where she stashed them when his car pulled up. "Just thinking how you're awfully poshed up for seven in the morning."
"Had a photoshoot earlier," he snipes. "Which one's mine?"
She keeps tight hold of both cups. "What's her name?"
"I don't name my cups of tea." But he crumples like a wet paper bag as she continues to stare at him. "Zoe Upton. Teaches maths at St. Antony's Academy, lives at 153 Burnet Court, she's got a 2015 Honda City and two cats, no criminal record."
"Names of cats?" she says, not budging.
"I wasn't shagging the cats, Miller," he says, and takes her cup. She lets him, and gets her vengeance when he makes a gagging noise at the first sip. "Fucking mocha, Christ alive."
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Hey! For you're WIP Week - 'hideout' please!
hello!!! for sure!!
this one just keeps getting longer haha
(also this is way more than three sentences but i’m exited about it and want to share!)
‘I had a girlfriend once, you know? In Middle school, before I moved in with Wayne.’ Eddies eyes don’t shift from the calander, he speaks quietly almost as though Steve isn’t even there.
Steve slides over to the counter near where Eddies standing. He shifts up to sit on it, close enough to feel Eddie’s body heat.
‘Then, then there was this guy and I was, I was like obsessed with him. I was a kid so I dunno if I, like, wanted to kiss him necessarily but I for sure just wanted to be around him, like, all the time.’ Finally Eddie's eyes slip back into the kitchen and he looks over at Steve. Rueful smile ghosting his lips.
Eddie looks away again and onto the floor. ‘I just. I guess sometimes I still feel like that kid. I get, like really obsessed with someone but it’s just, confusing. if I wanna just be friends because they’re cool or if I wanna be more than friends because they’re cool but also attractive. Does that make sense?’
Steve breaths in, let’s his eyes roam Eddie’s profile. ‘Uh, yeah, yeah kinda? I dunno man I think maybe just take your time? Sounds like that’s all you need. Like I dunno, change the three date rule and make it six?’
Eddie huffs, not unkindly but obviously not as comforted by Steve’s answer as he hoped. Steve winces internally. The faint smell of bathroom cleaner seems to waft under his nose… Important. This is important.
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