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The nightmare began when their best friends started dating.
Don’t get him wrong—Steve was over the moon for Carol. But her dating Valkyrie meant that not only would he be a third wheel, but it also meant that he’d be forced to see Thor again.
Much to his dismay, their relationship had ended on rocky terms. It left Steve aggravated, but instead of resolving the tension in a civil discussion like an adult, he resorted to actively avoiding Thor.
Sure, it wasn’t exactly healthy, but he’d take ignoring Thor’s existence over being reminded that he’d incurred the loss of someone so dear to his heart any day.
Speaking of being reminded...Steve was seconds from pulling a Vincent Van Gogh and severing his ears at the song Carol was playing on the radio. “You mind keeping that down? It used to be our song.”
Instead of obliging, Carol shot him a deadpan look and crossed her arms over her chest in a standard ‘ah, shit, here we go again’ stance. “You don’t own that song. It’s copyrighted.”
“You know what I mean.” His shoulders sagged with the overbearing weight of a repressed memory, and he lowered his gaze to focus on a tear in the couch. “Thor used to sing it to me whenever I felt down.”
“Kinda ironic that it makes you sad now,” She piped up—quite unhelpfully, might he add. At his crestfallen expression, she swung over the couch with relative ease and landed in the space beside him. “I’m just messing with you. I know how much he means to you.”
He let out an exasperated groan, muffling the sound with one of their throw pillows (if he tried hard enough, he could probably suffocate himself). “You’re making it worse.”
“Listen, Steve,” Carol said in a firm but somehow gentle tone. Although he couldn’t see her, he knew she was wearing a sympathetic expression. “It’s been months. Move on.”
“I did,” He stubbornly insisted, disregarding the fact that he was currently angsting over a song he strongly associated with Thor.
“You cry every time it thunders.”
“In my defense,” Steve hastened to justify, his shoulders hiking up, “everything he owns has at least one or two lightning patterns.”
“And you stalk his Instagram because…?”
Steve whipped his head up in indignation to glare icily at her terribly false accusation. “Stalk is a strong word. What I’m doing is periodically checking because I didn’t know he had one.”
“Still ‘not-over-my-ex’ behavior,” Carol insisted, evenly meeting his gaze. Without breaking eye contact, she motioned in the direction of his phone. “There better be a good reason why you still have albums of Thor.”
“They’re memories, Carol.” Steve reached for his device and pointedly placed it behind him to shield it from view. “I can’t just delete them.”
“Sure you can. I’ll do it for you if you’re not feeling up to it.”
“Fine. You win,” Steve surrendered (with reluctance), bowing his head in mortification. “The reason is that I may, or may not, have an emotional attachment to them.”
“What you have is a problem. And we’re gonna fix it.” Carol’s eyes hardened with determination (which was never a good sign). “My next date with Val is at the aquarium.”
“I’m glad you too are working out fine, but what does this have to do with fixing my problem?” Steve asked—and quickly augmented with, “The problem that I don’t have.”
“Val’s bestie is…?” She prompted ominously and rolled her hand in encouragement like the gesture would accelerate Steve’s thoughts. “Starts with a T, rhymes with four?”
“I’m not fourth wheeling.”
“You’re not,” Carol agreed as she slung an arm around Steve’s shoulders with a concerningly cheery grin. “Because you’re going to reconcile with Thor while having a good time.”
“This is a bad idea,” Steve said as a way of protesting, but agreed to tag along anyway. Besides, the worst that could happen is him falling into the shark tank.
—
From that moment on, Thor somehow found a way to worm back into Steve’s daily life like the vermin he was. Today was a quintessential example.
At the bookstore he frequented, Steve was searching for a particular book he was interested in—which so happened to be at the very top of the towering shelves.
After many failed attempts, he was about to fetch the nearest chair for a height boost when a familiar low timbre greeted from behind him, “Need help?”
“No,” Steve automatically declined with a passive-aggressive smile, fingers twitching irritably when he caught sight of Thor over his shoulder. “I don’t need your help. Thanks for the offer.”
To further prove his point, he clambered up the shelf—and balked when the unit wobbled precariously under his weight. He only had a second to regret all his life choices before the entire bookshelf tipped over with a loud groan, crashing loudly and strewing books practically everywhere.
From somewhere below the shelf and under all the billowed up dust, Steve said in a small, ashamed voice, “I meant to do that.”
“Of course you did.” Thor, understandably, arched a skeptical brow at him as he easily set the bookshelf back with a flex of his arms (showoff). He brushed off the dust coating his palms on his jeans, before offering Steve a hand like he was a Samaritan.
Steve randomly selected the closest book to him (Henry IV) and thrusted it into Thor’s face like a warding amulet. “Away, you mouldy rogue, away!”
“Steven,” Thor said with the barest hint of a smile at his antics, breaking through his (usually) carefully guarded countenance. His hand was still outstretched to him, as if he actually expected Steve to take it. “Let me help you.”
Steve maintained direct eye contact as he deliberately ignored Thor’s hand to push himself off the ground. “To quote Hamlet Act III, Scene III, Line 87, ‘No.’”
“Why am I not surprised?” Thor hefted a long-suffering sigh and rubbed at his temples, before swiveling on his heel to walk the direction he came from. “You were always stubborn.”
“Were? Jokes on you! I still am.” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth to shout after him, earning more reproachful looks from bystanders (but, sadly, none from Thor).
The owner of the bookstore was not happy.
—
At this hour, the park was relatively empty. There was only Steve, Dodger, squirrels, and city birds milling about.
He’d been reading the plaque of a recently implemented monument when Dodger had visibly perked up with excitement, which was unusual because the canine only reacted that way to squeaky toys and treats.
The only warning he received was a resounding bark before he was being insistently pulled along by the leash.
“Hey, boy, what’s got your attention?” Steve asked—and immediately wished he hadn’t because Thor, of all people, was looming into view and oh, god, Dodger had probably recognized him from across the park and now he was launching himself into Thor’s arms—
“Hello, Dodger,” Thor said with a chuckle that made Steve wish he’d brought a pillow to stuff his ears with. His smile tightened when he noticed Steve holding the other end of the leash, and the warmth in his eyes quickly faded, replaced by cold, cold indifference. “Steven.”
“Thor,” Steve said his name like it was a curse, returning his brittle smile. “Funny running into you here, considering you know that I walk Dodger around this time.”
“It’s a mere coincidence,” Thor said nonchalantly as he ruffled Dodger’s ears, earning a slobbery lick on the cheek (damn Dodger and his affection for Thor). “Am I not allowed to visit the park when I want to?”
“You—” Steve began, ready to spring into an argument—that is, until he realized that Thor had a valid point, and he finished his sentence lamely. “You shut up.”
Thor sealed an invisible zipper over his mouth and tossed the ‘key’ over his shoulder. Dodger followed the movement with an over-exaggerated turn of his head, tail wagging furiously like a helicopter.
“Peace at last.” Steve eased Dodger out from Thor’s embrace and tried to focus on anything other than how electrifying it felt as their hands momentarily brushed together.
He cleared his throat with a sharp ‘ahem’ to regain his composure and puppeteered Dodger’s paw to wave farewell. “Buh-bye.”
Glad that’s over with. He was about to make a mad dash for it when he heard Thor quietly ask, “Will I be seeing you at the aquarium with Brunnhilde and Carol?”
Steve turned slightly to cast a glance over his shoulder, trying to study the expression written on Thor’s face. The apathetic demeanor had collapsed, revealing...hope underneath?
He chewed at his bottom lip in uncertainty, unsure of how to respond, until he finally settled with, “I thought I told you to shut up.”
With that, Steve left without hearing what Thor had to say.
—
Steve’s car was an old relic, passed down from generation to generation—no, who was he kidding; it was on sale for an insanely cheap price.
Which was no surprise to Steve when it sputtered pathetically before rolling to a complete stop a few meters from his driveway.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me.” He turned the ignition, but all his clunky vehicle did was cough out plumes of smoke. Muttering to himself, he slid his phone from his pocket and typed out a message: Hey. Hope I’m not bothering you, but my car broke down. Can you help me fix it? I’m not far from my place.
It wasn’t until he’d hit sent that his brain finally registered the contact he’d selected on autopilot. In the amount of time the color drained from his face, he furiously typed to Carol: FUCK I ACCIDENTALLY TEXTED THOR HELP ME FAKE MY DEATH
It took a few minutes for her to reply with a barely coherent: ill give u a re al death if y dont let me sleep
Then, followed by: tell hin how u fwel
Great. Steve thumped his head against his steering wheel. Just great.
He startled at the gentle knock on his window and cranked it down. His throat clamped up at the sight of Thor’s telltale pickup truck, a lightning bolt spray painted along the door. Thor was leaning out the side of his window, forearm braced against the door and hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“I know what you’re gonna say. Yes, I finally set my pride aside to ask for help,” Steve cut in—just to be petty. He stepped out of his vehicle at the same moment Thor did, drawing the corners of his mouth into a slight frown.
“Congratulations. Do you want an award?” Thor said with a tight smile that resembled more of a grimace, and wow, how did he manage to make those words sound so condescending?
“I want you to fix my car.”
“Right. Let’s get this over with.” Thor, unattractively, rolled his sleeves past his elbows and popped open the hood of Steve’s said car, scanning the interior for malfunctioning parts. “What’s the issue?”
Steve shrugged, politely watching Thor work over his shoulder. “Beats me.”
Thor made a noncommittal sound and leaned in to start rooting around, tendrils of hair falling into his eyes. Unattractively. “Not that it’s any of my concern, but...where were you headed, so late at night?”
“Orgy,” Steve said, and snickered at the scandalized look Thor briefly threw him. “I’m kidding. I was actually going to the corner store. Was craving a midnight snack.”
“That’s understandable.” Thor fell uncharacteristically quiet for a while, as though he were contemplating something. Then, when Steve thought he wouldn’t say anything, “I...have Goldfish in my car, if you’re that hungry.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer.” Steve climbed into Thor’s well-loved car—and hesitated upon seeing all the drastic changes. Every sign of Steve was gone, as if they were never there. It hurt, for some reason, to see how quickly Thor had moved on.
“Did you get lost?” Thor teased, snapping Steve out of his lamenting. He shook his head vigorously, as if to clear his thoughts, and snatched up a packet of Goldfish.
“Yep,” Steve mumbled around a handful of crackers. Damn materialism. “It’s a mess in there. I don’t know how you find anything.”
“I don’t know how you travel in a car as ancient as this one.”
“Ancient,” Steve agreed, giving a fond pat to his car’s flank with a dull thunk (and halting at the concerning groan). “But still functional.”
“Yes,” Thor said, his voice dripping heavily with sarcasm. “That’s exactly why you’re currently stranded on the road in the middle of the night.”
“Stranded with you, unfortunately.”
“Remind me again,” Thor said rhetorically as he slammed the hood down with more force than necessary. He paused to pass an arm over his forehead, smearing grease on his temples. “Who was it that called me here?”
“Your face.”
Thor peered over to him with an unamused expression from behind the crook of his arm. “How mature of you.”
Steve motioned to his face with a wave of his hand, biting the inside of his cheek to refrain from laughing. “No, I meant that you’ve got a little something on your face.”
“Oh.” Thor dropped his stony facade and attempted to use the same forearm to wipe at his head. It worsened the stain. “What about now?”
“Here.” Steve rummaged in his pocket for an emergency tissue and gingerly wiped the stain with a corner of the napkin, oblivious to the way Thor was watching him. “Hope it wipes your attitude, too.”
Thor huffed like an impatient horse, but otherwise remained perfectly still. “I was about to thank you until that last comment.”
Steve pocketed the napkin to resist the temptation of stuffing it into Thor’s mouth. “Didn’t want your gratitude, anyway.”
Thor exhaled agitatedly through his nose, before climbing back into his truck (presumably to avoid doing something he would regret). “Next time your car malfunctions or you want a midnight snack, I’ll be a text away.”
“If you want to make more jabs at my car, let me know.”
“Duly noted.” Thor’s truck roared to life, and he turned ever-so-slightly to throw a sidelong glance at Steve. “Go to bed, Steven.”
It wasn’t until Thor left that Steve realized the way Thor was looking at him was with longing.
—
As much as Steve was a morning person, he wasn’t feeling up to par with anything today. Staying up at an ungodly hour to sob about his ex definitely wasn’t worth sacrificing sleep.
He was resting his cheek against his crossed forearms, slouched over the table—the perfect depiction of misery. He was so exhausted that he didn’t bother to acknowledge the footsteps approaching him (nor did he move when something gently nudged at his bicep). “Noo.”
“Here. I made this for you. I’d hate to let it go to waste.” Thor’s raucous voice filled his ears in the din of the cafe, and it wasn’t until he prodded him again that Steve realized he’d walked to Thor’s workplace out of habit.
Steve groggily lifted his head to squint up at Thor’s face (who seemed to be faring better than he was). He flicked his eyes to the hand holding out a steaming cup of coffee to him, and a long moment passed before he muttered, “It’s not poisoned, right?”
“Of course not.” Thor listed his hip against Steve’s table and defensively crossed his arms after Steve cupped his palms around the warm mug. “It’s drugged.”
“Even better.” Steve slowly straightened his posture to take a cautious sip of the brew...and set down the cup with a clink, eyebrows rising in surprise at the familiar taste. “You...remembered how I liked it.”
“Of course I did.” Thor tipped his head at him like it was an obvious thing to remember. “I used to make it for you every morning. Then you...stopped coming here.”
“Yeah.” Steve drummed his fingers against the mug as a random memory manifested in his mind. “You know, I made a bunch of sugar crystals the other day. But then I realized you weren’t there to eat them, so I gave them all to Carol.”
Thor protruded his bottom lip into a pout, reminding Steve of a petulant child. “I’m wounded, Steven. We could’ve set our differences aside for a day so that I could get my sugar crystals.”
Steve snorted and eyed him over the rim of the cup. “You know you can make them yourself, right?”
“It’s not the same.”
“Fair enough.” Steve raised his cup like he was toasting, before he remembered what was tickling at the back of his mind. “I never did get to thank you for fixing my car.”
“That’s quite alright.” Thor thinned his lips into that strange grimace-smile. “‘Didn’t want your gratitude, anyway.’”
It took Steve a beat to realize Thor was referencing the night prior and rolled his eyes. “Please.”
“You’re not one to beg.”
“Don’t make me spill this on you.” Steve held his cup threateningly, even tilting it until coffee nearly dribbled out. “I’d hate to ruin that...new jacket?”
Thor instinctively tugged at the collar of his jacket, as if he hadn’t been aware until Steve mentioned it. The act was rather bashful. “Indeed it is. You never returned my old one.”
Thor’s eyes drifted downwards, and Steve followed the barely perceptible movement. “In fact, you seem to be wearing it right now.”
As a matter of fact, he was. Cheeks heating with embarrassment, Steve glanced at a spot on the wall to avoid Thor’s thoughtful gaze. “I, uh, I can give it back if you want.”
“No, you have it.” For a split second, at the edge of his vision, Thor’s eyes turned kind and softened considerably. “You seem to appreciate it more than I do.”
“Well, yeah. It’s really comfortable.” Steve rubbed self consciously at his elbows, still staring fixedly at the wall. “I like it. The new jacket. You look...good.”
“Thank you,” Thor said sincerely, and although Steve couldn’t see it, he could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m surprised you didn’t spin it into an insult.”
Bait taken! Steve snapped his gaze back to Thor and yelled, “Good for nothing!”
Instead of fuming with rage like he’d expected him to, Thor chuckled good-naturedly and rested a comforting hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Aaand there it is. Until later, Steven.”
Steve watched him exit, his shoulder still warm from Thor’s touch.
—
Steve didn’t miss the way Thor’s eyes noticeably lit up when he’d approached with Carol. He also didn’t miss how Carol purposely suggested to ‘explore the glass prisons in separate groups.’
“I can tell this is going to be a turtle disaster,” Steve joked (and internally panicked for a second because he forgot if aquariums actually featured turtles).
A genuine smile spread across Thor’s face like drizzled honey, and Steve silently loathed how his heart stuttered. “I, for one, believe it will end up fintastic.”
“Oh my cod,” Steve said with a matching smile, before he remembered that he shouldn’t be enjoying Thor’s company and searched for a distraction.
There! An ugly fish to compare him to. Steve splayed his hand against the cold surface of the tank and gestured with his other hand to a grouper. “Look. It’s you.”
Thor scoffed and placed his hand beside Steve’s to peer into the glass. The close proximity made Steve flustered. “Then that fish is you. Always looking for a fight.”
When Steve turned to argue, the insult dissolved from his tongue. Thor was so close, his eyes reflecting the faint glow of the tank. His beauty was breathtaking, really, and he found himself drawn to the way the lighting accentuated his cheekbones and the way he looked at Steve with an expression he reserved for him, only for him—
“What’s the matter? No witty comeback?” Thor teased with a triumphant smile, before he seemed to realize the lack of distance between them. He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering briefly to Steve’s mouth when he said, “Steven, I…I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
“Yeah?” Steve asked way too eagerly, and he quickly added to seem less desperate, “If it’s about your Instagram, save it. I already know you have one.”
Oh, shit. Maybe he had been stalking Thor.
Luckily, before Thor could respond or Steve could embarrass himself further, a whale swam idly by. Unluckily, Steve knew by the look on Thor’s face that he was plotting something. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do it.”
“Too late.” Thor’s eyes twinkled mischievously, and he started to imitate the song of a (distressed) whale.
“Noooo,” Steve weakly protested, shoving at his arm in a poor attempt to stop him. All it did was encourage him to raise his voice, and Steve buried his face in his hands in shame.
He raised his head at the sound of kids laughing, and he smiled when he saw a group of children forming around Thor. They beckoned for Thor to follow, and he willingly allowed them to lead him to a touch pool.
“Look, Steven!” Thor exclaimed, pointing enthusiastically at a sea urchin. It warmed Steve’s heart that he was the only fully grown adult at the touch pool, looking as excited as all the kids.
It’s been so long since Thor has looked genuinely relaxed, or happy. Especially around Steve.
When Thor placed a starfish on the palm of Steve’s hand, Steve accepted it—if only to see that bright smile on Thor’s face again.
—
Somehow, they’d wandered to a souvenir shop. A seal plushie had caught his attention, and now Steve was regretting not bringing any money.
“Do you want it?” Thor asked, plucking it off the shelf and dangling it by its tail to offer to Steve (he probably wanted to avoid a repeat of the bookstore).
“Yeah.” Steve stared wistfully at the seal in Thor’s hand. Its eyes reflected the sadness in his. “Too bad I didn’t have the foresight to bring money.”
“It’s a good thing I did,” Thor said without any bite to it, already making his way to the cash register.
Steve trailed after him, torn between feeling guilty for making Thor pay and feeling joy for being able to own the seal plushie. “No, you don’t have to—”
“I insist,” Thor said, and, well, if someone insists, it’d be rude to turn their offer down, wouldn’t it? “I don’t mind.”
When they left the shop, Steve shucked the seal from its bag and hugged it close to his chest. “Thanks, Thor. That was really sweet of you.”
“You’re always welcome.”
They shared a smile, and for a moment, Steve forgot that he was supposed to act like he hated Thor. Then, they seemed to realize at the same time, and Steve averted his gaze because he couldn’t handle seeing the smile that used to light up his whole world.
“Hey, Thor?” Steve asked timidly, and he was surprised to find that Thor was already looking at him when he’d mustered the courage to return his gaze. “Can we talk?”
“Of course.” Thor rubbed anxiously at the nape of his neck, looking more unconfident than Steve had ever seen him before. “I’m guessing it’s not about my Instagram account?”
Steve twisted his mouth to refrain from bursting into laughter, and he lightly shook his head. “Not this time, buddy. It’s actually about the whole...acting like strangers.”
Steve clutched his plushie tighter to his chest, shoulders hunched like he was trying to curl in on himself. “I miss you so fucking much it hurts.”
Thor’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes widened a small fraction at Steve’s confession. “I...had no idea you felt that way.”
“Well, I do. I shouldn’t, but I do.” Steve tilted his head back to gaze up at Thor, and he found himself smiling wistfully. “Because falling in love with you...I don’t know how or when it happened, but all I know is that it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I regret letting you go.”
Thor appeared absolutely crestfallen, his mouth slack with melancholy. He looked like he had a thousand things to say, but Steve had a million.
“I know I’m the one who ended things. I know I hurt you. That night, you left thinking you were the problem.” Steve could recall ‘that night’ vividly, and if he were being honest, Thor looked exactly like he did all those months ago. “You’re not. You never were.”
Thor’s eyebrows furrowed in contemplation, and he slowly clicked his mouth shut as he listened to Steve vent about his feelings.
“All that talk about marriage...it scared me. I wasn’t ready for that type of commitment yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.” Steve took a shuddering breath, trying to steady his suddenly shaky voice before asking, “Remember the last thing I said to you?”
Thor looked askance, clearly pained by the memory. God, what Steve would do to take back those words. “How could I forget?”
“I didn’t mean it.” Steve, tentatively, raised a hand to Thor’s face. He moved slowly to telegraph his intention, and when Thor didn’t draw away, he cradled Thor’s cheek with his palm. “I don’t know why I ever said that.”
Thor hummed softly, placing his own hand over Steve’s with wavering eyes. “I didn’t mean anything I said, either.”
“And I know I never said it, but…” Steve gently brushed his thumb over the scar blemishing Thor’s skin. “I loved you then, and I love you still. Can we...try again? Please?”
Thor’s eyelashes dipped affectionately at his words, and the glow from the fish tank nearby made him all the more ethereal. “I could never say no to you.”
Steve beamed and surged to press their lips softly together. Immediately, he felt like he was melting, melting against Thor’s solid and familiar body. It’s been so long...too long. It feels good. It feels right.
It feels like they were made for each other. It’s a ridiculous thought, Steve knows, but it makes him buzz with delight nonetheless.
Thor made a contented noise in the back of his throat as he deepened the kiss, and, suddenly, there’s too much space between them. He pulled Steve impossibly closer, their kiss growing more desperate, more heated, and…
They both paused when they felt the seal plushie trapped between their torsos. Steve broke the kiss to turn his head to let out a bubbly laugh. “Starting to regret buying it for me?”
“Not at all.” Thor smiled fondly and gently took the seal from Steve to place its snout against Steve’s cheek. “Now you get to receive two kisses for the price of $17.50.”
Steve pursed his lips together to make a small pft and started patting the seal as if it were an actual, live animal. “So your kiss is free?”
“No. The seal’s kiss is free,” Thor said, and Steve seized the seal plushie to playfully whack him on the arm.
—
Their song came on the radio again.
But unlike all the other times, Steve didn’t take an unwarranted trip down memory lane. This time, he shared a knowing look with Thor.
They started to dance, even if Steve had two left feet. But at one point, Steve stumbled and unceremoniously fell, bringing down Thor with him.
A moment passed, their eyes comically wide and hair wild, before they doubled over with laughter.
Later, Thor posted the video Brunnhilde had filmed onto his Instagram page.