Work Text:
He wears a pair of sunglasses to school one day to cover up a black eye. Kelso and Eric give him shit for it, tell him he looks like a tool and he tells them that’s kind of the point.
He remembers the guy who left them behind, one of his mom’s hookups, he’d seemed aloof, unshakable, and unreadable. That is until his mom had leaned over to whisper something in the guy's ear. Something that made his mouth curl into a dirty smirk as her hand had trailed up the inside of his thigh.
“Well, I think they look cool,” Donna reassures him with a playful shove and he feigns nonchalance as he feels his face heat chili pepper red and Donna hides a knowing smile behind her hands.
The guy who gave him the black eye lasts with his mom a month longer than he’d been expecting. But in the end, she must decide that he hits harder than he is a good fuck and she already has another guy slipping behind her into her bedroom before the week is out.
He’s nice to Steven, teaches him how to play poker one night on the wobbly table in their cramped kitchen. Zeplin was playing in the background and his mom was working late on one of her odd jobs. He points out his tell, slaps his hand away when he reaches up to tug at his own hair and laughs when he stutters out an angry protest.
“You’re doing fine kid,” he tells him, “You’re picking it up faster than I did.” Steven wills away the flush he feels at the tips of his ears at the compliment.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
He lasts even less time than the last guy.
The man who gives him his first joint smirks when he coughs up a lung and lifts up his sunglasses to wipe at his watery eyes. Then he shakes his head when he tries to hand it back.
“No, Stevie. That’s all for you.”
“Don’t call me that,” he says by way of response and takes another drag. It’s a smell he’s been intimately familiar with for all his life it seems, smelling it is far different from smoking it.
“That’s good,” he comments while Steve stifles another coughing fit.
His body is buzzing and everything feels kind of floaty when the man’s dry hands slide across his shoulder and the back of his neck. Then he’s pulling Steven’s glasses off, setting them aside on the table and he blinks at the change of brightness.
“You have such blue eyes,” the man comments, staring down at him with a dark steal gaze. Steven feels a rush of something like guilt or giddiness. The comment makes him feel defensive and he blinks, leaning away as the man's ever-moving hands slide down his legs.
“What the hell?!” Comes his mother's angry voice, cutting through the quiet.
He jerks away from Steven as if burned and then his mother is physically pulling him out of the house hitting and kicking him and screaming. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this angry in his life. He follows as she pushes him out the door and he gets into his car swearing up a storm as he peels out of the driveway as if it were on fire.
The night air feels far too cold on his strangely sensitive skin and he shivers. “What do you think he wanted?” he asks.
His mother turns to look him up and down and he realizes the joint’s still hanging out of his mouth. He’s nearly eye level with her.
“Don’t be stupid,” she says, taking the blunt from between his lips and takes a drag herself. The smoke is infinitely fascinating as it pours from her mouth.
He doesn’t ask her what she means but deep down he thinks he’s already figured it out.
She stops bringing guys around the house as much after that, instead, she starts leaving him alone at the house for weeks at a time. He has to scrounge the cupboards for any kind of food he can get his hands on, spends most dinners at the Pinciotti’s to get a full meal. Steven doesn’t know which he prefers, he starts sleeping in his mom’s bedroom, missing the smell of her. He finds a stash of weed in her bedside table, among other things, and decides to bring it to Foreman’s house next time he comes over.
He thinks it’s one of the best decisions he’s ever made.
Donna grows to be bigger than him and Eric at some point in Jr. High. It makes it that much harder to beat her in wrestling. She’s shoved him into the ground, her long red hair tickling his chin and pooling into the hollow of his throat when she leans down to whisper “Say it,” into his ear.
The panic would seize him and his pride would make his ears go red and then he would cave when her grip starts going painfully tight, his voice cracking on the words “Alright! Alright, uncle- Jesus!” and Donna’s self-satisfied smirk sends another wave of heat across his face.
Then she lets him up and he heaves a sigh of relief, rubbing at his sore wrists while Foreman sends him a sympathetic look. Kelso laughs dumbly from atop the dryer, then goes back to bouncing a ping pong ball against the concrete floor.
“You’re psycho,” he tells her from his spot on the ground. She “Hmnn’s” thoughtfully, tapping at her chin then collapses onto the couch beside Foreman.
“Say’s the psycho.” she teases.
“Guess it takes one to know one.” Foreman comments and Donna’s wrathful attention is turned on Eric this time.
“Burn!” Kelso shouts. Steven watches them wrestle on the couch, Foreman complaining loudly when Donna knees him in the ribs by accident, then he curls up trying to protect himself from Donna’s sharp elbows laughing while still trying to kick away from her. He eggs them on from his spot on the ground, Foreman yelling for him to “Shut up!”
It’s useless, Kelso’s the only one who still beats her. He’s always been the biggest of them and it gives him a bit of an unfair advantage.
Well, it would be an advantage if he weren’t so dumb. It’s easy to trick him or distract him somehow, long enough for him to stick a wet finger in his ear until he’s protesting in outrage squirming beneath him through all his complaining before finally giving in.
Steven only wins out against him every once in a while. Eric’s smart too but he nearly never wins, with the way Eric wheezes when he presses him into the ground it’s not hard to see why.
“U-uncle!” Eric stutters out suddenly and then Eric and Donna are parting instantly, both of their faces red with exertion. Steven’s surprised, he didn’t know Eric could put up that good of a fight.
The wrestling kind of stops abruptly and it isn’t until one day he catches himself staring at Donna’s boobs that he realizes why. He wrenches his eyes back to her face, thankful for the dark sunglasses to hide his gaze.
That night he dreams that they’re wrestling again in Foreman’s basement, except this time they’re alone. She’s pressing him into the ground and instead of trying to push her off his hands slide around her waist. He presses her closer to him, her hair falling like a curtain against his face. Then her lips are on his chin then his lips. Now her chest is pressing into his, curves soft and full. He brings one of his hands up to take a handful of her chest, squeezing lightly just until he hears her gasp.
Then he’s awake and aching and sweaty, he turns over, his hips hitching against the springy mattress and he gasps at the sensation. He rolls into it and lets his instinct take over until it’s over.
They don’t go to Kelso’s house very often. With his older brothers and the general chaos that goes with it, it just seems like the smart thing to do. He’s pretty sure half of Kelso’s stupidity has to do with the crazy stunts his brothers have him pull and the resulting brain damage.
But the fact he’d been so insistent that wouldn’t tell Donna about it “Not Donna- you can’t tell Donna!” Had intrigued him. And also had made him want to grab him by his stupid headgear and make him fucking tell them already!
They follow Kelso up the stairs while two of his brothers thunder down past them, Foreman nearly toppling over and Steven has to catch him by the collar of his shirt. “Thanks,” he breathes, eyes still wide.
Steven shrugs, “Don’t mention it,” he says and then they’re on the landing, Micheal turning left instead of right where he remembers his room being last time. “This way,” he whispers.
“Kelso, why are you whispering?” Foreman asks sounding confused as they follow him.
“Where are we going?” Steven asks, grabbing his shoulder.
“My brother’s room, now shush I don’t want you ruining the surprise!” Kelso says quietly, shaking him off as they turn into Kelso’s brother’s bedroom. He flips on the light, ushering them into the room and closing the door behind him.
“Kelso, what the hell are you doing?” Steven asks, exasperated, as Kelso dives under his brother’s bed searching for something before coming up with a triumphant whooping noise.
“Porno mags!” he says, brandishing them in the air. Steven looks back at Eric who stares with his mouth open.
They sit on the floor by the foot of the bed, side by side. And Steven somehow ends up in the middle, his friend's elbows constantly bumping into his. Kelso holds the magazine out for them to look at, their breathing in his ears as they flip through it. He’s taken off his glasses and tucked them away in the front of his shirt so he can see better. It’s Eric who starts squirming first, his breath going ragged in Steven’s burning ears.
“It’s hot right?” Kelso says next to him and Steven flinches, surprised by his speaking. Steven bites his lip, nodding and looking down at the magazine. The page they’re on has a bio section next to the girl they’re looking at, he skims it, reading about how she likes cleaning her truck in the sun. She’s covered in soap suds, her shirt white and see-through. He can make out the shape of her nipple and see the majority of her cleavage down her shirt.
He’s just working out a fantasy in his head, starting to get hard in his jeans when Kelso flips the page. He’s about to open his mouth to complain but the next girl is even more scandalously clothed than the last one and the position they have her posed in- it must be uncomfortable to have her back arched that far but she makes it look effortless. And her lips are parted in a way that makes her look coy and he imagines them around his cock, taking him in all wet and warm and-
“Oh my-” Eric says when Kelso flips to the next page and he feels his own breath catch. She’s completely topless, holding her own boobs in each hand, the flesh overflowing from her palms. And between her fingers, he sees a nipple, rosey and delicate looking. He has an overwhelming urge to pinch it between the pads of his fingers and press his mouth to the underside of her breast, make her moan for him.
Kelso’s shifting beside him, breathing deep and steady. He feels it against his shoulder as his free hand slips towards the hem of his pants. Steven finds himself watching while Kelso resists temptation, almost willing him to give in.
Suddenly Eric’s jumping into action standing up and scrambling towards the door.
“What-” he starts and Kelso shushes him, tucking the mags beneath the bed and following after Eric towards the door. He’s third out just as Casey Kelso’s reaching the top of the stairs, his friends already across the hall slipping into Micheal’s bedroom.
Casey’s seen him and he knows he’s screwed even as he tries to slip past him down the hallway. He snags him by the shoulder, pushing him back against the wall roughly, “Hey, where do you think you’re going?”
He shrugs his heart beating out of his chest and his face burning with shame, “You know, just-” he doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Casey looks him over and he knows he can see how hard he still is in his jeans. Casey smirks, tangling his fingers in his hair and tugging his head back until he hisses. He can’t meet his gaze.
“Stay out of my room, you little shit.” he murmurs, Steven nods, the sensation painful with Casey’s fingers in his hair.
“Got it,” he responds, sounding breathless. Casey smirks again before slamming his fist into Steven’s ribs. He falls to his knees, wheezing in pain as Casey steps over him into his room. Through all of that he’s still managed to stay hard.
He doesn’t really miss his dad but he feels like he would be the type of person he would talk to about this stuff. But he’s made it four years without him he figures he doesn’t need him for this either.
Red Foreman used to intimidate him, and while he still does he doesn’t scare him the way he used to. He yells a lot but he isn’t anything like some of the men his mother would bring home. He’s mostly hot air but beneath all the anger there is a caring man. Still, he doesn’t want to know what would happen if he found out the thoughts he has about his daughter; Laurie Foreman. Laurie used to be cool, in the way Donna’s cool. But after she started high school something about her changed. The way she looks at him, it’s like she knows every dirty thought that’s ever crossed his mind and she likes it.
Right now she’s walking around the basement in her light pink robe, trading remarks with Eric. She flashes a look at him, over her shoulder and smirks as she leans over the washer. The hem of her robe riding up just slightly and he imagines being behind her, pushing her panties aside- Christ if she’s even wearing any- and pushing into her. Nice and easy. And her moaning, gripping the edge of the washer, calling his name.
“Hyde,” he hears, and he looks up at his name. She’s smirking at him in a way that reminds him of his mother and the thought is the biggest turnoff.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice sounding gruff.
“Did you catch any of that, Hyde?” Eric asks, he feels his cheeks heat but doesn’t respond.
“Told you,” Laurie smirks, tilting her head to the side playfully before leaving with a wave. “Bye, Hyde.” he watches her go.
Donna smacks him in the arm, “Ow! What the hell was that for?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.
“That’s for being a total perv you dingus,” she says angrily.
“I was not!” he defends.
“You totally were,” Kelso cuts in, “I know because that’s the same face I make when I’m imagining doing it with Laurie.”
“Ew!” Donna says, smacking Kelso in the arm this time who laughs while Eric makes a face of disgust.
“Com’ on guys, can we not talk about you wanting to do it with my sister? That’s just gross,” he complains.
“Here, I got something to take your mind off of it,” Steven says, stuffing his hand in his pocket to pull out a baggie of weed. Suddenly they all have something else to talk about.
Steven Hyde has always had a sort of a thing for fire. It was powerful and unpredictable and all-consuming. He started lighting things on fire when his half brother Danny gave him a lighter for his birthday. It wasn’t new, probably all he had in his pocket at the time.
First, it was toilet paper, he saved a roll and took it out on the concrete porch in his backyard when he knew his mom was sleeping. It burned fast but it was fascinating to watch. Then he found other things to burn. Sticks, old rags, his homework, and the newspaper, he burnt it all watching the flames lick and burn up from the inside.
His mom chewed him out when she found the scorch marks and ashes on the concrete patio. But she didn’t take the lighter away and didn’t try and punish him.
Right here, right now feels much more dangerous than setting a fire. “How old are you, honey?” the woman asks, leaning over and giving him a good shot of her cleavage down her biker shirt.
She was a friend of his mother’s apparently, Esther she said her name was. She caught him looking and started up a conversation.
“16,” he lies and stops himself from reaching up and tugging at his own hair. Settles instead for gripping at his own bicep nervously. She smirks coyly, sliding up to him and taking his hand in hers.
She leads him to his mother’s bedroom and kisses him breathless, it isn’t necessarily his first kiss or the first time he’s fooled around but this feels different.
She shushes him when he starts to voice his concern about his mom walking in on them. “It won’t take long,” she promises, and he believes her. Hands shaking he slides his hands along her body, trying not to linger on her soft breasts or ass too long, not wanting to offend her, he’s interested in every inch of her.
“You’re sweet.” she giggles against his lips like she can read his mind.
“No 'm not.” he breathes out while she trails kisses across his jaw and his neck. He shivers when she bites him.
“Can’t fool me, sweetheart,” she says, pulling away and Steven thinks he’s fucked up for a second and reaches for her hips to try and convince her to stay. But she’s just leaning back enough to take off her tank top.
Steven tries to keep his face neutral as he takes in the sight of her unclothed chest, it’s hot. Of course it’s hot, he reaches out, cupping her breast when she doesn’t stop him. He thumbs at a dusty nipple, watches it harden under his attention.
She moans for him, softly like she likes it but isn’t enough. So he’s ducking down and putting his mouth on her and this time her moan is much more enthusiastic. Her fingers tangle in his hair and push him more into her chest and he tries to work on some kind of technique, swirling his tongue around her nipple while he applies suction or introducing just a hint of teeth. She’s moaning steadily now and he reaches up to give the other one some attention, pinching and rubbing with the pads of his fingers.
“We’ll have to put that mouth of yours to more use later,” she tells him, tugging at his hair until he gets the hint and pulls off. His breathing is loud and unsteady in his own ears as he tries to work out what she means by that. She smiles at him coyly, then pushes on his shoulder. He goes with it and lands on his mother’s bed with a bounce.
Then she’s shimmying out of her tight looking leather pants and her panties in one go and her stares, eyes wide as her naked body is revealed to him. She smirks, crawling onto the bed sinuously, pushing on his shoulder to make him lay back again from when he tried to sit up and meet her.
Then she’s reaching down, palming him through his jeans and he gasps. He’s been hard since she asked him for his age. Her laugh sounds mocking but at this point, he is way beyond caring. Then she’s leaning over him, reaching for his Mom’s bedside table, “I know she has some,” she’s saying. It puts her breasts by his face and he leans up to put his mouth on her again. This time her laugh sounds surprised and delighted all at once.
“Can’t keep you away,” she comments, then she’s pushing her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to look up at her. “You should always use one of these,” she says, holding up a tin foil packet. A condom, his brain helpfully supplies. He nods and she smirks again, dropping it on his chest and reaching for his belt.
“Shit,” he breathes.
“Relax,” she’s saying, tugging open his pants.
She’s right, it doesn’t take long.
But after, she tugs him towards her, and lazily he goes and nuzzles at her thighs. And she directs him to her center and he gets the hint, puts his mouth on her and follows her breathy instructions until she’s shaking and clawing at his shoulder with one hand while the other pushes his face into her until he can’t breathe. But he keeps going, slipping fingers into her and licking and sucking at that little nub until her voice breaks and she seizes, her walls fluttering around his fingers.
He slows down a little after until she lets him go and he sits up and wipes at his mouth. For once she doesn’t look mocking or all-knowing. She just looks tired and sated. She pulls him towards her, wrapping her arms around him and he pushes his nose into her neck, breaths in the smell of sweat and sex and lets himself be held.
She takes him for a ride on her bike and she keeps coming by after that. He brings her by the basement and she meets Kelso and Foreman. They keep having sex and he shoplifts a bracelet for her. He thinks maybe they’re going steady.
That is until the holidays, his uncle visits for Thanksgiving. He notices them looking at each other, then later she’s in his lap whispering things in his ear.
He doesn’t know what he was expecting but he isn’t that surprised.
Kelso gets his braces off over break and he has a girlfriend by the time Spring starts. “I told you guys I was gonna be gorgeous!” he says when he tells them.
“You’re beautiful Kelso,” Eric tells him and Donna reaches out to pat his head, Kelso smiles all too pleased with himself. He makes it maybe a week before he gets dumped and he’s “back on the prowl” for some other poor girl to mack on.
Then there’s Jackie, Jackie whose cute but extremely pushy and annoying. She insists on hanging out with the group and Kelso goes along with it while the rest of them put up with it. She’s the only person besides his mom and Foreman’s parents that calls him Steven and it grates on him.
Eric picks up a kid with an accent and an unpronounceable name. He spends maybe three minutes trying to work it out before he gives up and they end up calling him Fez.
He’s weird and perverted and gullible as hell. They teach him how to play basketball and Donna wipes the court with him.
“Who’s woman is Donna?” Fez asks one day. Everyone looks at Donna who looks bewildered by the question.
“No one’s,” Donna says, laughing.
Fez, hands on his hips nods in understanding. “Ohh, is it because they are intimidated by your strong body, tactical mind, and incredible beauty?”
Then he sees Donna look up at Jackie whos standing behind the couch and Jackie looks pointedly at Eric and something clicks into place. Donna likes Eric.
And Eric is just completely oblivious to it all.
“I would cherish every inch of you,” Fez tells her and it sounds like he’s about to start one of his speeches and thankfully Donna cuts him off.
“Thanks, Fez. I’ll remember that if I ever get truly desperate,” she says before getting up and Jackie takes her by the arm, leading her up the basement stairs.
“We’re going to do our nails,” Jackie throws over her shoulder when Kelso tries to follow them. “Alone.” she says pointedly. And Kelso makes an offended noise and spreads his arms out indignantly.
“Can you believe that?” he says when they’re gone. “Jackie loves doing my nails and mine are starting to get chipped,” Kelso says, looking down at his immaculate hands.
“It’s girl talk, they have to talk about what just happened,” Steven says, leaning back in his chair.
“About me?” Fez asks, sounding hopeful.
“No, well maybe a little but I meant more like-” he looks towards Eric, cocking an eyebrow at him.
“Me?!” Eric says when he gets it. “But that had nothing to do with me!”
“Christ, you’re an idiot.” Steven grouses. It had everything to do with him.
He recognizes that disliking Buddy Morgan is petty. Recognizing it doesn’t make it go away though. He’s maybe a little possessive of his friend's time and the fact that his parents have money and everyone pretty much likes him doesn’t help things either.
But God damn, Fez called it. Buddy is gay and something about him being otherwise perfect in the eyes of society makes him a little more likable to him. More tolerable. It’s metal or something.
It must stick with him because he has a weird dream the following night. Really weird. With Kelso in it. And he wakes up, sweaty and hard and before he knows what he’s doing he’s slipping a hand in his pants and around his erection.
And he figures he might as well not waste a perfectly good hard-on. So he strokes himself slow and unhurried, the fogginess of sleep still heavy on his mind as he lets his own fantasy take hold.
He thinks of Donna, he’s been thinking a lot about Donna lately. He thinks of his hand on her thigh and instead of telling him to fuck off she pulls him closer, sighs in his ear when he kisses her neck. He imagines her letting him take her shirt off, letting him touch her everywhere, letting him put his mouth on her.
As he strokes himself parts of his dream keep slipping to the forefront of his mind. Just flashes; Kelso shirtless, Kelso with a burning look in his eyes.
He thinks maybe he can work with that. He imagines Jackie and Kelso together. Maybe he’ll feel weird fantasizing about his friends later but it isn’t like he’s trying to watch like Fez does, the fucking pervert, and it’s not like they’ll ever find out.
So he imagines Jackie and Kelso pressed together. He imagines her hands gripping his shoulders as they roll together. His larger frame covering hers, him making her arch and moan and whine in a sexy way. Not the annoying way he’s used to hearing.
Then he’s imagining her calling his name instead of Kelso’s, her fingernails digging into his shoulders while he thrusts into her. Then he’s imagining reaching down and rubbing his thumb into that spot that Esther taught him about and her absolutely writhing with pleasure.
He’s getting close on that thought alone, but then unbidden the image of Buddy and Eric kissing comes to the forefront of his mind. And he’s on a roll now so he just goes with it, imagines the skinny fuckers kissing slow and sweet. Buddy pushing boundaries because Eric wouldn’t have the balls to and him gasping in surprise when Buddy reaches for his belt buckle. Then instead of Eric it’s him Buddy’s looking to for permission, his eyes sweet and hesitant looking and he’s nodding and Buddy’s reaching into his pants and that’s it. That’s the thought that has him gasping as he spills into his fist.
Before he can think about it too much he’s slipping back into sleep, his body buzzing from orgasm.
When he wakes up with dried cum on his stomach he doesn’t exactly remember all of it, he just knows he jerked it to the thought of his friends. Which wouldn’t be so bad if not for the fact that half his friends were guys. And he was /not/ gay. It was a fluke, it had to be.
“So,” he asks Buddy when he finds himself alone with him in the basement, “do your folks know you’re gay?”
Buddy stares at him with a kind of mildly panicked going for blank expression before answering him “Gay? I’m not-”
“Foreman told me and Donna you laid one on him.” he interrupts his denial, straight to the point easy.
“So?” Buddy asks, looking nervous. Steven recognizes that he hasn’t exactly given him a reason to trust him. So far he’s been kind of a dick. He holds his hands up passively and shakes his head.
“That wasn’t a threat, I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” he tells him.
“Well good. Cause I’m not going to.” Buddy tells him, nodding pointedly like that settles it.
“Alright,”
“Cause that’s personal, and we’re not friends yet. Even. Really,” Buddy says, standing now brazenly, defensively.
“I get it, man I’m sorry I asked,” Steven says, trying to pacify him.
There’s a long pause and Buddy looks at him like he’s trying to figure him out and Steven resists the urge to reach up and pull at his own hair. He just stands there, arms crossed waiting for Foreman to come down with the popcorn and break the awkward silence. “I think, maybe my mom knows. But she hasn’t said anything.” Buddy says eventually.
He looks up at that “How did you know?” he asks.
This gives Buddy pause, “Why?” Steven shrugs lamely, he doesn’t really have a good excuse planned out, “Well it might be kind of weird for you to hear.” Buddy hedges.
“It’s fine I promise just tell me.”
“When I was a kid I always had this kind of infatuation with Arthur from Sword in the Stone,” Buddy says quietly, and Steven wonders if he’s ever told another person this.
“Really? That dork?” he asks, and Buddy shrugs, cracking a smile.
“What? He was... honorable. And I liked his hair.”
“Honorable-” Steven teases, shaking his head. “I guess you have a type, I can see the resemblance between him and Foreman.”
“Yeah- I guess,” There’s a pause and it looks like there’s something else he wants to say so Steven waits.
“And um- as a pre-teen when me and my friends would look at porno mags together?” Steven nods to let him know he’s listening, “I was always paid more attention to the other boys than the girls they were looking at.”
Then comes Eric thundering down the stairs with the smell of burnt popcorn. His face flushed and a hickey blooming low on the side of his neck.
Buddy’s words are still ringing in his ears, it gives him something to think about.
Foreman is the first one to suggest his mom isn’t coming back this time. And it’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed his mind but it’s hard to hear someone else say it. It makes it more real. Sure maybe Edna wasn’t the best mom, but she always came back eventually. It’s just taking her a little longer than usual.
“Nah man, she does this sometimes,” he reassures him and he catches Buddy’s face over Foreman’s shoulder, equal parts pity and concerned. And he realizes nearly everyone in the room is looking at him that way. He wants to feel angry but it’s hard after seeing everyone's naked butts skinny dipping.
He eats till he’s full for the first time in a while at Foreman’s house, and when he gets home he finishes the leftover beer and thinks back if there’s ever been a time she’s been gone this long. He draws a blank.
The next day he’s putting ketchup on crackers because he’s tired of how bland they’re starting to taste. Desperate times tend to break out his creativity, like the time he put peanut butter and jelly on graham crackers, truly some gourmet shit. Then the phone rings and he’s rushing to answer before he even considers if he wants to talk to her.
“Mom?” he asks,
“Hey baby,” comes her familiar voice over the phone. He sighs, relieved she hasn’t been murdered by some trucker. “I have so much to tell you! Teddy’s been such a sweetheart, taking me all over the country to show me things I haven’t even heard of-”
“Mom- Mom!” he cuts her off, “Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice you’re not home yet.”
She sighs and dread goes through him as he anticipates her next words. “I know I’m your mom but I’m leaving you behind, Steven.”
“Is that right?” he asks, a lump building in his throat.
“Steven, I really think he’s the one.”
“Okay, great yeah-
“You don’t need me anymore and you can take care of yourself now-“
“No no no, you know whatever makes you happy,” he tells her, he hangs up before she can answer. He lets his anger take over, throwing the phone to the ground and watching as it breaks into pieces. Then he turns to see Eric standing in the doorway and he tries to play it off like nothing happened.
“Hey, Foreman,”
He doesn’t think he’s ever been more scared then with Red Foreman yelling at him to get his shit together and get in the damn car. He rushes like a bat out of hell, only really grabbing some clothes, his records and the bag of weed he has stashed behind his dresser.
The car ride is awkward for him, pressed shoulder to shoulder with Eric, Red Foreman clearly seething from the driver's seat and Mrs. Foreman giddy and self-satisfied in the passenger's seat. He wants to be mad at Eric but he recognizes that they’re really going out of their way for him.
Buddy high is overly affectionate, at first it used to just be Foreman he would sit beside and make himself comfortable with his head on his shoulder. He thought it was just his little crush making itself known, and that might actually be part of it, but as he got to know Jackie and Donna and Fez better the more apparent it seemed he was just a cuddler.
Donna and Jackie seemed to like being held without it really meaning anything. Although Jackie would sometimes initiate to work Kelso up. And Fez seemed to like being held in general. He would sit there, his arms wrapped around Buddy’s skinny frame and ask increasingly personal questions about his sexuality, most of which Buddy seemed to find hilarious. By the end of it, he would be bent over, wheezing and wiping tears from the corners of his eyes while Fez would stare at him, clearly bewildered.
“What? What is so funny you are dying?” he would ask, his hands hovering around Buddy’s shoulders as if he isn’t sure if he should be trying to help him. Buddy would wave the question away, clutching at his sides as he struggled to breathe through the laughter. And it would seem Buddy’s laughter is contagious because even he finds himself smiling like an idiot by the end of it.
Buddy drunk is ten times worse. It took him longer to cozy up to him and Kelso but any reserves he seemed to have about it are gone right now. They’re at Jackie’s house for once and Kelso broke into the good stuff. Steven’s sitting on one of the nice ass couches in Jackie’s front room and Buddy’s somehow managed to worm his head into his lap, the rest of his skinny body stretched out on the couch and his legs hanging off the arm of it.
“Comfortable?” he asks and snatches the bottle of whiskey from Buddy’s loose fingers, some of the liquid spills and lands on Buddy’s cheek. He flinches when it lands and blinks up at him by way of protest.
“I was,” Buddy grumbles but makes no move to wipe the amber liquid off his cheek. So Steven reaches down to wipe it away himself and Buddy sighs softly when it happens.
He takes a swig and it only burns slightly on the way down because he’s already kind of buzzed. He thinks it must be hard for him. He’s the only gay kid Steven knows, so he lets him press his pointy nose into his stomach and idly lets his fingers comb through Buddy’s soft hair. He used to hate it the way he hated it when Jackie would get close to him but he thinks Mrs. Foreman is making him soft or maybe it’s the alcohol because he really doesn’t mind anymore.
They go outside because Buddy thinks the cold air will sober him up a little and he’s worried if he doesn’t he’ll fall asleep. And Steven agrees because he doesn’t want Buddy drooling all over his jeans. They go out to the porch and Buddy shuffles to stand beside him, his feet scraping against the concrete in the dead quiet. He stumbles and laughs a little as Steven catches him by his shoulder.
“Too drunk to stand?”
Buddy sighs, his breath coming out as vapor, “Yeah, guess so.” then he purses his lips together like he’s thinking and it makes his dimples stand out on his cheeks. “You’d think the booze would keep me warm, Jesus,” Buddy says after a pause, tucking his hands into his armpits.
Steven shrugs, noticing him shivering against his side. So he slips an arm around him, meaning to make some comment about it being because of how skinny he is, but what comes out is “Guess you’re just special.”
“You think so?” Buddy asks, and it makes his cheeks burn even though it’s a harmless question.
“Sure,” Steven says, the alcohol making his tongue lose, “You’re probably the nicest person I know.”
“Not nicer than Mrs. Foreman,” Buddy says, shaking his head. “Not even close.”
“Well I mean other than her, cause she’s like- she’s like my mom. And Red’s my dad and I can’t be more grateful for what they did for me,” his eyes sting and he scrubs at them with a loose fist, Jesus Christ he must be drunker than he thought.
He clears his throat, refusing to look at Buddy before continuing “But no, I mean like other than her. You were totally cool with me and Fez asking you those uh really personal questions,”
“Yeah… what was that about anyway?”
“Fez? Man, I have no idea, dude won’t ever shut up about sex-”
“Not Fez, I know he’s a total pervert. I meant you.”
Steven thinks for a few long moments, trying to figure out how to answer that when he doesn’t completely understand it himself, “I don’t know man, I think I was just,” he sniffs, looking down at his feet “confused.”
“Confused,” Buddy says flatly.
He’s quiet for a second before answering “Yeah,” he says and thinks about leaving it just at that but maybe he should say it just once, out loud. “I mean like girls?”
He looks to Buddy for confirmation and he nods to let him know he’s listening, “Girls are great right? Can’t go wrong there.”
Buddy stares at him for a second, before shrugging “Well-”
“Right,” he says, feeling a little dumb but he can blame it on the alcohol. “I feel like there’s a part of me... I’m just ignoring. Because I think it’s easier or better that way. And what kind of bullshit is that? Since when have I cared what was more acceptable? Since when am /I/ scared of anything?”
“Hyde,” Buddy says after what feels like an eternity, “Last time I thought I was having this conversation I ended up being way off base. I think- I don’t know, I’m still not completely sold on Eric being straight. But- can I kiss you?”
Steven stares at Buddy’s pinched eyebrows and clenched jaw, clearly waiting for him to blow up or something. He thinks about it, thinks ‘Fuck it’ then leans in, Buddy’s face turning delighted before meeting him halfway. And then they’re kissing and nothing bad happens just Buddy’s cold lips warming up against his. Then Buddy’s fingers in his hair and Buddy’s breathy sigh as he pushes him more firmly into the wall. And maybe he’s too drunk to get completely hard right now but his dick is definitely interested in the way Buddy squirms against him and says his name against his lips.
He slips his too cold fingers beneath Buddy’s layers of clothes and he jumps slightly when they make contact with hot skin. Then he hears a door opening and Jackie’s voice carrying through the quiet, and he goes to pull away but not before Buddy pulls him in for another searing kiss with the promise of later left on his lips.
They part, finally and Buddy’s hand finds his. And together they head off back into the party.
