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    Summary

    Steve thinks about shit like that, like, how to make people feel good, keeps a stash of each of the kids’ favorite candies for the bad days and has tapes that Robin and Eddie like, respectively, in the front of his car and is always the one to propose the “Thank Fuck We’re Alive!” parties at each anniversary of some fucked up shit. So it shouldn’t be surprising, after a couple months of Steve clearly cataloging every one of Eddie’s turn-ons like he gets paid for it, when he says, “You gotta know I want you so bad, angel.”

    Eddie snorts to hide the whine that wants to come out. “I think you’ve got the wrong guy.”

    “Nope,” Steve says, kissing his cheek loudly and decisively. Eddie eyes him, uncertain what the catch is here.

    “What, you gonna ask if it hurt when I fell from heaven next?”

    “No,” Steve says, tracing a finger across his bottom lip, down his throat, “I’m gonna ask what a guy’s gotta do to tempt you into my bed tonight.”

    Series
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