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Steve drums his fingers on the countertop. His eyes flicker around the store—it’s near empty, the only customer an old lady browsing the jazz section.
He groans and puts his head down on the counter.
“Missing me already?” Robin flashes him a grin as she swings her tote bag over her shoulder.
Steve just looks up at the clock longingly. He loves working at Family Records, really does, but this particular closing shift has dragged on forever.
“Have fun!” He calls at her back as the door swings closed behind her. She flashes him a thumbs up without looking back. Robin usually closes with him, but this time shes got a date with a girl who came in looking for a Pixies album.
Steve’s an amazing wingman, so amazing, in fact, that he’s kind of lacking in the romance department right now (and by right now , he means since Nancy broke up with him).
He looks up as the little old lady comes up to the counter and places a Louis Armstrong album on the counter. He bags it for her and is just wishing her a nice day when the door flings open. The lady turns around and shoots the boy who just walked in a glare before thanking Steve and leaving. The boy doesn’t seem to notice.
He has long hair, an almost wild sparkle in his eyes, and a walk like he has a mission. He pushes his hair back like he can see Steve watching and wants to show off.
The boy is clearly new—he spins around, taking in the shelves of records throughout the store.
“Can I help you find anything?” Steve calls.
“Iron Maiden?” The boy raises an eyebrow.
Without looking, Steve points to his left. “Right here.”
The boy walks over and begins examining the record. “I’m Eddie.”
“Steve.”
“You sell guitars here?”
Steve shakes his head. When Eddie looks disappointed, he adds, “But, if you can keep a secret…”
“Fuck yes.”
Steve puts one finger up and slips into the back room. He has to climb over about ten broken records, but he finally finds what he’s looking for tucked in the back corner, strung with faint cobwebs.
He presents it to Eddie. It’s a guitar, faded red. Steve’s no guitar expert, but it looks like, in it’s glory days, it was magnificent.
“This is magnificent !” Eddie skirts behind the counter and places a hand on the body of the guitar reverently. “It’s just been collecting dust back there?”
Steve nods. “Probably used to be my boss’s, but he’s hardly here anymore.”
“Man, a beauty like this is meant to be played ,” Eddie laments.
They both look up from the guitar at each other at the same time.
About two minutes later, Eddie’s settled onto the ground, cross legged, the guitar fitting perfectly in his lap. Steve’s leaning against the counter, gazing down at him.
There’s a pause, and Steve watches as Eddie plucks out a couple of notes and adjusts the tuning.
When he starts playing, Steve can’t fucking look away. He’s playing some hard rock song Steve’s never heard of. Steve hates rock music—but he wants to listen to Eddie play this one song forever. His fingers move so quickly from chord to chord that it almost seems inhuman. When he looks up from the guitar, he catches eyes with Steve and grins wildly. Steve can’t help but grin back.
The song ends— unfortunately —and Steve claps.
“That was insane ,” he puts his hands to his temple and makes a pshh sound to mimic his brain exploding.
“She’s still got it!” Eddie pats the guitar lovingly.
Steve nods. Then his eye catches the clock and he hisses “ shit. ” It’s five past closing time and he still hasn’t done any actual closing .
“Do you mind if I…?” Steve gestures around. Eddie shrugs, and begins to play another tune as Steve empties the cash register.
When Steve’s finally done, he slides down onto the floor next to Eddie. By this point, Eddie’s leaning against the counter, eyes closed, plucking out a soft, dreamy tune. Steve closes his eyes, too, and he’s almost lulled to sleep. Before he can drift off, he’s woken by the guitar noises tapering off.
“You have nice hair.”
Steve yawns and opens his eyes. “You too?”
Eddie drops the guitar into his lap. “You know I’ll be coming in to play this again.” At the mention of seeing Eddie again, Steve’s stomach does a little twirly thing. Huh.
“Yea,” he says, getting to his feet and heading for the supply closet. “Sounds good.”
When he leaves, Eddie’s waiting for him, sitting on the counter. They end up walking out together. It’s dark and cold outside, and Steve shivers. He hates these fickle spring days when the heat burns at high noon and disappears by sunset.
Eddie glances over and shrugs his jacket off. He hands it to Steve so casually.
Steve shoots him a fake glare and puts the jacket on. Jesus, it feels like he's drowning in it. He fiddles with a sewn-on patch.
A thought passes through his mind— he's supposed to be the one giving away his jacket. He would do that all the time with Nancy.
He shakes the thought from his head. This is nothing like him and Nancy. This is just Eddie being a decent guy. He shoves his hand into the pockets of the jacket, trying very hard to not think about how much he actually enjoys being on the other side of the jacket-giving.
There're passing under a buzzing lampost when Eddie stops. Steve stops too, and stares at him.
"Can I?" Eddie asks.
Steve says "yes," without thinking. Eddie grabs his face and kisses him. Steve's kissing back.
A single thought forms: I can't wait to tell Robin about this .