Archive of Our Own

Steve wraps his hand tightly around the mug, savoring the warmth of it as the heater in the shop slowly kicks on. Robin is still wearing her denim jacket, with a scarf around her neck though it’s only the beginning of fall. Steve teased her about it this morning when she slid into the passenger seat, but she didn’t do more than grumble, caffeine not yet in her system.

The sun is just barely peeking over the horizon, signaling that it is way too early for either of them to be awake, yet if they were going to suffer, they’d suffer together.

Nestled on the edge of a college campus, Cup of Joe is a thriving coffee house that is always filled with a never-ending stream of students and faculty alike. Those popping in between classes, or guzzling shots of espresso to finish that last minute term paper. Steve sees at least twenty new faces a day, a unique combination of people that brings out the awkward extrovert in him.

Robin likes to joke that Steve was made for being a small café barista. That he somehow exemplifies what anyone thinks of when envisioning a hipster-esque coffee maker. Sure, he wears straight leg jeans so worn that they’re becoming frayed at the ends, and more often than not his shirt is thrifted. But that’s because it’s the financially responsible decision, okay Robin? He can’t afford the luxurious lifestyle of his high school days when he was completely dependent on his parents and their habit of throwing cash at him instead of attention. And sure, sometimes after a long shift he has to put on his glasses. So, what if he doesn’t like straining to read ingredient labels. Every time he puts them on Robin waltzes by and coughs in a way that sounds suspiciously like she’s saying slut. He knows if he questions her on it, she’ll feign innocence and babble at him loud enough to get his thoughts twisted and forget what they were talking about in the first place.

Despite her annoyances and her always making him clean the bathrooms at closing time, Robin is his favorite person in the world.

They first met during his sophomore and her freshman year, in some GenEd English class. Technically it was a Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies class that happened to fulfil an English credit but that is neither here nor there. Robin was the bright eyed, bushy tailed freshman that was ecstatic to get out of her close-minded small town and have the freedom of self-expression. Steve was the much more toned-down sophomore who was placed in this class after forgetting about his registration window and this being the only thing left.

Steve remembers the first class vividly. Robin was sitting in the third row, fifth seat from the left. He remembers this detail because she later explained to him in one of her rambles that she picked that seat very intentionally. Close enough to the front that the professor would learn her face but not directly in the front to look like a teacher’s pet. Steve ended up in the third row next to her because he got turned around looking for the building and had to slink in two minutes before class time and take what seat was left available.

This professor asked students to sit in these seats for the remainder of the semester, saying it was easier to learn names that way and then of course partnered them all up. And so, Steve was stuck. Robin eyed him warily. Of all ten guys in the class, she just had to be paired with one. What were the odds of that? He was sure he looked hungover, slouched in the uncomfortable lecture hall chair, hair flopped across his forehead, eyes glazed over. He was tired; not hungover. He’d been up all night helping his new residents move in and introducing himself to all of them.

See, in order for Steve to save money and minimize his student loans, he became an RA. It was free housing, a free meal plan and a small stipend on top of that. His freshman year his RA had been monumental in him getting situated away from home. Alexei had been his name. He had an open-door policy, that anytime anyone may need him, he’d be there. He was an international student from Russia, and even though he was so much further away from home, he never made Steve feel stupid when he talked about being homesick.

During his junior year and his second year being an RA, Steve felt he had a better handle on time management, and wanting some extra pocket money, applied to Cup of Joe. He and Robin were friendly at this point, amicably ending the semester with a solid A- on their final project. He didn’t anticipate them having the same idea and applying for the same job. She had looked surprised when she walked in on her first day, (his second) to see him situated behind the counter.

“Harrington?” she asked. “I thought you already had a job. Unless the whole RA thing was a façade and you really were partying every night.”

He shrugged, “more money is never a bad thing.”

Robin had been smart enough to get a scholarship, one that covered just about everything, so this was mostly a way for her to be social, pocket the change, and now bug Steve.

They got on alarmingly well. So much so that their manager Keith would just roll his eyes when scheduling, automatically marking their names next to each other. Now here they are, two years later, both technically entering their senior year.

Steve is taking a fifth year, he picked up another minor, not quite ready to enter the workforce and gets nauseous at the thought.  He isn’t an RA anymore, now a Resident Manager, meaning he gets to boss all the RAs around without having to do the grunt work and gets paid more. There isn’t as much direct communication with the residents which he misses, but there are a certain core group of undergrads and former residents of his that keep him running around frantically.

Speaking of which. Robin has just flipped the sign to read open when a curly haired catastrophe pushes his way inside and right up to the counter. It is literally six am, Steve has had three sips of his coffee, he can’t do this right now.

He holds a finger up as Dustin opens his mouth, silencing him just long enough that Steve can down the rest of his drink and take a deep breath to center himself.

“Okay, now you may speak.”

“First off,” Dustin starts. “That was dramatic. Second, if I don’t get two pumpkin spice lattes right now, I might explode.”

“Right, and I’m the dramatic one,” Steve gripes.

“Less talking more coffee making! I have to meet Suzie before her first class today or I won’t get to see her all week!”

“I could throttle you,” Steve says but begins making the drinks anyway.

Robin rings Dustin up once she slips back behind the counter. She’s ditched the jacket but kept on the scarf for some reason.

“Robin, I swear if you have a hickey.”

Robin makes a disgusted face and unwinds the scarf. Her neck is thankfully hickey free.

“No hickey dingus, just cold.”

Steve slides the drinks over to Dustin who is furiously typing away on his phone. Could be texting any number of people, but based on his lovesick expression, probably Suzie. They’re both computer science majors with theatre minors. Basically, perfect for each other.

Dustin was one of Steve’s residents last year. Steve remembers when his quad moved in, the four of them thick as thieves after all coming from the same high school. There is always that gamble when living with friends, but somehow that group withstood any potential pitfalls and are all living together again this year, though not in Steve’s dorm. Steve is secretly grateful for this, as it allowed him to genuinely befriend the kids since he was no longer responsible for them. Dustin was the first to really acquaint himself with Steve, knocking on his door late one night seeking some romantic advice. While Steve hasn’t had the best record in that department, he wasn’t going to tell the nervous freshman that and let the kid in to work it out. It seemed to, given that Dustin and Suzie have just celebrated their one year.

Lucas had been next. A guard on the university’s basketball team, he was projected to excel on the court but was so nervous before his first game he seemed two seconds away from vomiting if someone so much as looked in his direction. Steve had been in attendance of that game, cheering obnoxiously for this kid he’d directly spoken to only a handful of times. But Lucas somehow caught his eye in the crowd and shot him a thumbs up after he scored his first point. After that, Steve found himself gifted with tickets for the friends and family section, which he proudly sat in.

Will approached Steve the most timidly. He had been waiting outside Steve’s door when he got back from class one day. He let the kid in, not sure how long he’d been waiting but that it seemed serious. They sat in silence for a few minutes. Steve not wanting to push and Will struggling to find the words. Then very quietly the kid spoke.

“I think I’m gay.”

Steve was trained for this moment. Literally. Every year the resident hall staff conducted a sensitivity training that taught them how to respond in situations like this. Steve put on his best reassuring smile and told Will that he was honored he felt he could share this with him.

“I understand kid, don’t you worry.”

“Understand?” Will asked, looking up at Steve, eyes full of unshed tears.

“I’m bisexual. Have known since high school.”

If Will was surprised by this admission, he didn’t show it. Steve didn’t hide his sexuality, he had an LGBTQ+ pin on the corkboard outside his door, but more often than not people assumed he was just an ally. He also had a strict policy of not bringing any of his hookups back to the dorm. It blurred the lines of personal and professional that he maintained with his residents. Will hung around a bit longer, opening up more to Steve in that half hour than he had all semester so far.

“Can I give you a hug?” Will asked, as he hovered by the door.

“Bring it in kid.”

Steve stood and opened his arms, easily enveloping the younger boy. The tension leaked from Will’s shoulders, and he left the room marginally brighter.

Mike Wheeler had been the last domino to fall, the hardest nut to crack, whatever other turn of phrase to emphasize how much he disliked Steve. Steve couldn’t blame the kid; he had dated his sister briefly during his sophomore year. It’s not like he knew at the time, that months down the line the younger brother of his then girlfriend would be one of his residents. And that he and said girlfriend would have a bit of a tiff at a frat party, leading her to dumping him, storming out drunk and all but fall into the arms of some smarmy photographer type. It really doesn’t help that the photographer is the older Byers brother and a kind of cool dude. He works for the communications department on campus, so sometimes Steve will see him at events, capturing content and know that he is a much better fit for Nancy.

Before Mike got to know Steve, he had only heard things when Nancy came home on school breaks, absorbed any negative opinions she had and discarded any sliver of positivity. He was a real gem when the Wheelers came to move him in, Nancy in tow as an extra set of hands. By then they’d long made up but Mike in all his lanky form, glared from under his mop of black hair and steadfastly ignored Steve at all costs.

Steve isn’t really sure when Mike stopped detesting him. It was seemingly overnight, that he decided he could in fact tolerate Steve and give him a small nod when they passed in the dorm halls. They don’t keep in touch as often as the other three do, but Mike no longer sneers at the thought of Steve, which he counts as a win.

Dustin scoops up the two drinks, raising one to his mouth and taking a large gulp. Steve knows it burns his tongue, but the freak is too proud to admit it.

“Just a touch too much cinnamon,” Dustin comments as he backs out the door.

He’s smart to move because Steve would lunge and choke him if he was close enough.

“I’m going to murder you,” Steve responds sweetly.

Dustin attempts to flip him off though struggles with the drinks in his hands.

“I miss when he was a sweet little freshman that looked up to me.”

Robin chuckles, “oh please, like he ever looked up to you.”

Steve swats at her with a dishrag that she easily avoids. The shop slowly starts to fill with people, a constant stream desperate for their caffeine fix. Steve and Robin work like a well-oiled machine, dancing around each other in the small space behind the counter to ensure all drinks are made properly.

Around eight-forty, they hit a brief lull with it being too close to most people starting work to drop in unless they want to be late. Robin sighs and leans against the counter, finally warm enough to ditch the scarf. She takes a small sip of her drink; Steve thinks it’s a London Fog, based on the scent of lavender that she normally adds to it.

Steve surveys the shop. The counter is towards the back, giving them a view of the whole space. To the right of them is the cozier side of the café, with the green velvet sofa and leather armchairs bracketing the unlit fireplace. To the right of the fireplace is a record player on a long table that hooks up to the speakers in the shop. Robin has the Fleetwood Mac Rumours album quietly crooning. To the left of the fireplace is a large shelf with an eclectic mix of boardgames and books that customers are welcome to use. On the other side of the shop is the more traditional layout, with an assortment of mismatched tables and chairs where people can sit to work or catch up with friends.

Steve’s favorite seat is a red fabric high back chair not too far from the main entrance. The chair wobbles just a little, one leg shorter than the others but there is an outlet hidden low on the wall and a perfect view outside for when he wants to people watch. The table it’s stationed at is a deep mahogany color and full of scuff marks. About a year ago he and Robin carved their names on the underside of it, which was probably not the wisest thing since it could be traced directly back to them, but they wanted to leave their mark on this place. He loves it here a lot, always feeling a warmth in his chest when he thinks too much about it.

With all customers taken care of and Robin scribbling in her journal, Steve vacates the counter in favor of organizing the bookshelf.

There isn’t a rhyme or reason to how he sorts, mostly just vibes on what books feel like they belong together. He’s just placed a copy of Emma by Jane Austen next to The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan when the bell above the door jingles, signaling movement. He sees someone walking in out of the corner of his eye, but Robin has shut her journal quickly and attended to them. This allows Steve a few more minutes to make some switches before returning to the counter. He hops up next to where she’s leaning, fiddling with his watch band. He feels Robin press her arm against his thigh and presses back. She presses harder to which he matches her.

“Steve,” she hisses, elbowing him.

“Ow! What?”

She subtlety jerks her head towards the tables where the newest customer must have sat. Steve follows her movement without moving his head, eyes gliding left.

Sitting at Steve’s favorite table is an unfairly attractive man. He’s got dark, long, curly hair that falls around his face. His brows are furrowed as he looks between his screen and a notebook, alternating between writing and typing. Steve wonders if he’s a student. He looks too young to be a professor, maybe a TA. Or maybe he’s out of school, and doing you know, actual work. Maybe he’s a writer, or a musician. He’s got that punk rock look to him, a black shirt stretched across his shoulders, jeans ripped at the knees.

“You’re drooling Harrington,” Robin says in his ear.

Steve jerks back. He is NOT drooling. Yeah, maybe this is one of the hottest guys he’s seen in a long time and yeah maybe him sitting at Steve’s favorite table feels like a sign. But he’s got enough tact to not make it that obvious.

“Fuck off,” he responds, no heat to his words.

“Go talk to him.”

“Absolutely not.”

“And why not?”

“Because he is a customer, and this is my place of work.”

“Oh please,” Robin rolls her eyes. “That hasn’t stopped you from flirting with anyone before.”

“That’s different!” he insists.

“How?”

“I don’t go out of my way to do it. If they come up to the counter, then I just show them the Harrington charm. Make them feel appreciated.”

“Well now’s your chance Romeo.”

The customer they were very obviously talking about has pushed back from his table and started in the direction of the counter. Robin dramatically flips open her notebook and studies it like it holds the secrets of the universe, leaving Steve to face this man alone. When he’s a few steps away from the counter Steve finds his voice.

“Anything I can help you with?”

The man slows down but doesn’t stop.

“Just going to the restroom, I think I can manage.”

He points past the counter to the two doors clearly marked, ‘restroom’ and Steve wants to slam his face into the espresso machine.

Cheeks heating up, all Steve can do is nod to try and keep the embarrassment inside. Robin is silently laughing next to him, her shoulders shaking to hard he’s worried she’s going to fall off the stool she’s perched on. Honestly it would serve her right.

Steve busies himself with cleaning the milk frother, paying more attention to it than he ever has just to make sure he isn’t facing the storefront when the handsome stranger returns.

Barb comes in early for her shift and has barely said hi when Steve grabs his jacket and hightails it out the employee entrance in the back. So, he’ll be extra early to his lecture today, anything is better than being in that café for one more minute.

Unfortunately for Steve, he, and Robin open two days later. She’s waiting outside her apartment for him, same denim jacket and scarf combo as last time. When they pull up to the shop, Steve parks but doesn’t turn the engine off.

“Alright dingus, out with it,” she says. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just want to stay in the warm car a bit longer.”

She rolls her eyes, not calling him on his bullshit.

“In that case.”

Robin pulls a tube of mascara out of her purse and uses the mirror behind the sun visor to apply it. She’ll let Steve wallow but might as well touchup her makeup while he’s at it.

“I get to pick the album this morning,” he says, once he’s gathered himself enough to go inside.

Robin waves her hand, in a ‘whatever’ gesture, and focuses on pulling an espresso shot.

“You really freaked out Barb, you know.”

“What?”

“The other day when you bolted out of here like your ass was on fire. She was worried you were sick or something.”

“Did you tell her I was fine?”

“I told her you had bad shrimp the night before.”

Steve blanches, “Robin. No, you didn’t.”

“She was very sympathetic.”

“Oh, bite me,” he spits out.

“Not my type.”

In retaliation, Steve puts on a Backstreet Boys album that has Robin putting her hands over her ears. Steve just turns it up, until the intro chords of Larger Than Life spill through the speakers and each beat is emphasized with a sway of his hips. This is how the first customers of the day are greeted, with Steve crooning behind the counter, his voice gentle and enamoring.

“Stop trying to woo everyone,” Robin says, rolling her eyes.

Steve shimmies towards her and she yelps, batting him away.

“I can’t help that I’m just magnetic.”

Someone wolf whistles and Steve eats up the attention until he sees the handsome customer in line, one hand grabbing the strap of his backpack, head tilted to the side as he studies the performance in front of him.

Steve comes to a screeching halt, the spoon he was using as a microphone almost slipping from his hand.

“Hi, welcome to Cup of Joe, what can I get started for you?” he stutters out.

“An Americano. Iced.”

Steve types it into the register system.

“Anything else?”

The customer shakes his head, a glint in his eye as he stares intensely at Steve.

“That’ll be all.”

“Uh, in that case, your total is $2.25.”

The man hands over exact change then drops a few bills in the tip jar which Steve totally does not find weirdly attractive. Absolutely not.

With no one in line behind him, the man loiters in front of Steve, taking him in. Normally one to soak up the attention, Steve doesn’t like how he feels hot under his collar and woefully off balance.

“Here you go!” Robin says brightly, effectively cutting the tension and placing the iced drink between the two of them.

The man scoops up his drink and tips it in a ‘thank you’ gesture towards Robin before settling in at the table from last time.

“Thanks,” Steve whispers.

“I mostly did that for myself, that was painful to watch.”

“Not any worse than you trying to flirt with that girl from your British Lit class.”

“Unlike you, Melissa and I actually know each other’s names.”

She says this challengingly, eyebrow raised basically begging Steve to make an ass out of himself and ask the guy what his name is. He doesn’t rise to the bait, not this time at least. He lets the guy peacefully type away at his laptop, head bopping to whatever song is playing through his overpriced headphones. Steve knows they’re overpriced headphones because Mike was complaining about how he wanted a pair and out of curiosity, Steve looked up the cost. His eyes almost popped out of his skull when he saw the number following the dollar sign. They’re these high-tech ultra-noise cancelling headphones that if they work half as well as advertised, the guy wouldn’t hear Steve try to talk to him anyway.

Steve finishes the rest of his shift with only a few stolen glances towards the guy and a few pointed looks from Robin. He makes sure to actually say bye to Barb this time when she comes in, instead of bolting out the back. She gives him a sympathetic look, meaning Robin really did say he had food poisoning which is humiliating to think about. So, he chooses not to, pushes the mortifying thought out of his brain and agrees to attend the next wine night Barb hosts at her apartment. Feeling brave, Steve elects to walk out the front door, even if it means weaving through the tables and customers.

“See ya sailor,” someone calls out.

Steve stumbles over nothing, head turning towards the voice.

The handsome customer has pushed one side of his headphones behind his ear and is looking at Steve, one side of his mouth pulled up in a smirk.

“Uh, what?” Steve so eloquently responds.

Handsome stranger gestures towards Steve’s shirt, it’s another thrifted piece; a white shirt with a blueprint of a sailboat and the words Edinboro Yacht Club scrawled underneath.

Instead of just laughing it off, Steve throws out, “it’s Steve, actually.”

Robin positively guffaws behind him. Even Barb is politely chuckling into her hand.

“Well see ya Steve,” the stranger elongates the name.

Steve gives a halfhearted wave, “right.” Then books it out the door.

He and Robin step outside, though they head for class in opposite directions she waits, knowing he’s about to word vomit.

“I have to quit, right?”

“You might as well move cities. Hell, move states,” she says.

“Robin, c’mon. I’ve embarrassed myself in front of this guy twice now.”

“Oh Steve, you’ve embarrassed yourself infinitely more times in front of me and I still like being around you.”

“Yeah, but you were a loser freshman then and didn’t know anyone else.”

“I’m going to choose to ignore that insult and chalk it up to you being in a sensitive place.”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, “sorry Rob. I guess you weren’t a total loser.”

“That isn’t much better dingus,” she places a hand on his shoulder. “Look, you just need to calm down a bit. Sure, you think the guy is hot, but you don’t really know him. He could be a total asshole or stupid or something. Just take a breath, get through your exam tomorrow and then Friday night we can go do something. Invite the group out.”

“Yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

“I’m a genius, I know. It’s going to be okay Harrington.”

Robin backs away from him, waving over her shoulder and huffing it to her study session. Steve goes the opposite way towards his lecture, finding it a little bit easier to breathe.

On Friday, Steve finds himself trailing behind a hyperactive group of sophomores. When Robin suggested inviting a group out, he was hoping it was one that could legally drink. Instead, his former charges are bulldozing their way down the campus roads, heading who knows where with Steve and Robin dutifully following. They turn right, towards the main stretch of businesses, and stop promptly in front of what looks like an arcade.

“An arcade? Seriously?” Steve asks, turning towards Robin.

She pushes him towards the doors the kids already disappeared through.

“Not just any arcade. But a bar-cade.”

She gestures towards the fully stocked bar in a room to the left of the doors. It’s got a decent amount of people their age, which makes Steve feel marginally better.

“Now this could work.”

“I figured us drinking and playing games with the group is way less depressing than us drinking alone in my apartment.”

Steve fishes his ID out for the bouncer and is waved through easily. The guy kind of leers at Robin, looking her up and down far too slowly to just be confirming her picture matches her. Steve wraps an arm around her shoulder and sneers. The bouncer holds his hands up placatingly in a ‘sorry bro didn’t realize you were tapping that’ way.

They head towards the bar, both in desperate need of a drink. Steve settles for the cheapest beer on tap and Robin orders some fruit concoction that he will be stealing sips of later. She chews on the tiny straw in her drink as they walk back out towards the main arcade area, scanning the room for the hoard they brought with them.

Steve spots Lucas and Max first. Max was the last to join their little posse, towards the end of last year. Unlike most of them she doesn’t hail from the Midwest. She’s from California but for some reason decided to venture out here for school. Steve’s heard some whispers from Lucas that maybe her home life wasn’t all that great, and she wanted to get away. Steve also isn’t totally sure how they met, but that one-day Lucas was knocking on his door very similarly to Dustin a few months prior, and that’s that. They’re cute. Max keeps his ego from getting too big and Lucas helps her be more open.

Currently they’re duking it out at the basketball toss game but to even the competition Lucas is shooting with his non-dominant hand. They’re neck and neck, only two baskets or so between them. Max pulls out the win, pumping her fist victoriously and teasing Lucas, absolutely planning on holding this over his head. He rolls his eyes good naturedly and presses a kiss to her temple. Steve can see the pink of her cheeks from here. He watches as they turn down a corner bypassing Dustin and Mike on their way. Steve takes a swig of his drink and saunters over to the duo. They’re playing some combat game, fighting each other, and based on the swearing from Dustin, he’s losing.

“Son of a bitch!” he cries out, smacking the side of the machine.

Officially lost then. Mike stands next to him, smug look on his face.

“Rematch?” he asks.

Dustin grabs the controller, “hell yeah I want a rematch.”

Steve wants no part of this chaos and circles back to find Robin who has joined Will and his sister El at the Ms. Pac-Man machine.

“That girl is a wizard at this game,” Robin whispers to Steve as he approaches.

Looking at the screen it seems that El has already passed the high score and shows no signs of slowing down.

“Rob lets go play something. Anything.”

“Anything?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

Steve should have realized this moment would be his downfall. He and Robin face off at the table hockey station, their scores glowing in bright LED numbers between them. They’re on their third match and Steve has yet to secure a win. He was close in the first game but was absolutely swept in the second. After he finishes the third in another defeat, he decides they need to pick a new game and he needs a new drink.

He's at the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish helping another customer when someone slides up next to him. He scooches over, figuring it’s someone a little tipsy with a lack of understanding of personal space. They don’t move closer, so he chances a look at them from the corner of his eye. He sees the forearm tattoo first, then the hands adorned with thick rings, and he feels a flutter in his stomach. When Steve finally drags his eyes up to the person’s face, he's met with the handsome stranger from the shop.

No fucking way, Steve thinks. What are the chances of this?

Evidently very high, since the man is standing in front of him.

“Hey sailor,” the man says, smile wide and predatory. “What’re you drinking?”

“Just a beer,” Steve says lamely, lifting his empty glass.

The bartender chooses this moment to approach them, silently waiting for their orders.

“I’ll do a Sazerac and he’ll get whatever you have on tap.”

“No man,” Steve starts. “You don’t need to get me a drink.”

But the bartender has already moved away to get their drinks, accepts the card from the handsome stranger and swishes over to the next customer.

The man swirls the drink gently in its glass, the dark liquid glinting in the bar light. Steve feels a bit weird accepting the beer but figures it’s already been paid for and as a college student isn’t one to turn down a free drink. The stranger migrates to an empty high table and beckons for Steve to follow.

“Pretty fancy drink for a bar-cade,” Steve eventually says, not good with silences.

“I am a man of taste.”

“Right.”

Steve takes a swig of his beer, the coolness of the liquid pouring over his tongue and calming him a bit. He wouldn’t call the silence companionable, but it isn’t as nerve-wracking as anticipated. Having a bit of alcohol definitely helped.

“My name is Steve by the way,” he cuts back in. “Just in case you didn’t remember. Which is fine.”

“I remember.”

“Right.”

“I’m Eddie,” he finally says.

Eddie. Eddie. Eddie. Steve repeats the name in his mind. He doesn’t look like an Ed or an Edward or Edwin or Edmund. But Eddie suits him.

“Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Nice to see you again Steve. I almost didn’t recognize you not behind a counter.”

Steve smiles a bit at that. Gentle joking, he can do.

“What brings you here?”

“Friend’s birthday,” Eddie says. “He wanted to get hammered, play some arcade games and then go drink more.”

“Should you be getting back to him? Since it’s his birthday?”
Eddie shrugs, “this is only the first stop. We’ve got the whole night ahead of us to make bad decisions together. Not that I need someone to do that with. I can make plenty of bad decisions on my own.”

There is a double meaning to his words.

Steve’s phone starts buzzing from his back pocket, and he makes a ‘one second’ gesture to Eddie. Robin’s contact picture fills the screen.

“What’s up Robin?”

“Are you crying in the bathroom or something?”

“Why would I be crying in the bathroom?” Eddie chokes out a laugh.

“In embarrassment at how bad you are at table hockey.”

Steve sighs, “no Rob, I am not crying in the bathroom. I needed another drink.”

“Hurry up!”

She hangs up.

“One day she’ll wish she was nicer to me,” he says to Eddie.

“How could anyone be mean to that face?”

Eddie raises a hand lightly to Steve’s jaw, fingers just barely touching but he feels like he’s on fire. Steve swallows harshly.

“Apparently very easily. I should probably get back.”

Eddie bows his head, “until next time.”

Steve winds through the small crowd of people, finding Robin and Max gabbing against the pinball machine Lucas is playing.

“Finally!” Robin says, throwing her hands in the air. “Thought maybe you drowned in your tears.”

“I wasn’t crying!”

“Then why is your face red?” Max asks, eyes studying him closely.

Damn her and her perceptiveness. Normally Steve likes the thoughtful way Max observes her surrounds but right now he doesn’t need an interrogation.

“Why is your hair red?” he shoots back childishly.

She rolls her eyes, “that doesn’t even make sense.”

“You don’t make sense.”

She opens her mouth to argue but Robin cuts in.

“Ok children please, you can argue later! I want to play some more games!”

Steve drains the rest of his beer ignoring the feeling in his stomach and lets Robin annihilate him at any game they play.

He doesn’t tell Robin about his run in with the handsome stranger, now known as Eddie and he isn’t totally sure why. Maybe he isn’t sure it really happened. Maybe his drink was spiked, and he hallucinated the man. Maybe he’s worried that he was reading too far into the moment they shared, and Robin will burst his delusional bubble.

He’s at the café one afternoon trying to catch up on his homework for the week when Dustin comes barreling in like his pants are on fire. Eddie isn’t around so Steve is free to sit at his favorite table again. Dustin picks Steve’s bag off the chair next to him and puts it on the floor so he can sit.

“Dude! Careful with my stuff.”

Dustin waves him off.

“Steve. I finally figured out what I want for my birthday.”

“That’s what’s so important?”

“Excuse me, you’re the one who was pestering me about it.”

“Alright fine. How much is this going to cost me?”

“Uh,” Dustin pulls his phone out. “About 100 bucks.”

“Jesus kid. What are you asking for.”

“Well fifty bucks if you don’t want to go.”

“Go to what?”

“The midnight screening of Raven’s Blood.”

Steve sputters, “what is Raven’s Blood?”

“Are you shitting me Steve? Please tell me you’re joking!”

Steve makes a ‘does it look like I’m joking?’ face.

“You pretentious jock types are all the same,” Dustin grumbles. “Raven’s Blood is the first film and book in the Hellfire Saga.”

“And Hellfire is...?”

“Only the most amazing fantasy series of our generation.”

“If it’s so amazing, why haven’t I heard of it?”

“Because as we just established Steve, you’re a jock indie loser.”

“I think those things all contradict each other.”

“Anyway! The author, Wayne Munson, also wrote the screenplay, and it is supposed to be amazing.”

“And this is your present how?”

“Keep up Steve! You take me and the others to the midnight screening and buy my ticket.”

“Why the midnight screening?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” Dustin huffs. “Wayne will be there for a Q&A after the film and none of us have a car on campus. I need to know what happens to Lady Chriscinda after the fourth book.”

“Who all would I be taking? When is this? When do tickets go on sale?”

Dustin, maybe realizing that he needs Steve, musters up his sweetest smile.

“Me, Will, Mike, and Lucas. Two weeks from now, and tickets went on sale last week.”

“Well shit Dustin, the tickets are probably already gone if this guy is as popular as you say he is.”

“I already bought the tickets.”

“So then why do you need money from me?”

“You can just pay me back for them and call them my present.”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“I like to think I’m organized.”

Dustin stands back from the table and saunters up to the counter where Barb is.

“Your finest pumpkin spice latte please ma’am.”

Barb smiles at him sweetly, her rosy cheeks pushing up her wire framed glasses. Dustin takes a satisfied sip.

“Now this is how you make a pumpkin spice latte,” he says, pointedly looking at Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, keep talking. See who gives you a ride now.”

“You would never abandon us. Especially not on my birthday.”

“Are you willing to risk that?”

Dustin slinks out of the café, clearly not willing to risk it.

Steve sees Eddie sporadically over the next few weeks. A few times at the café, with Robin nudging him, once at the liquor store with a group of guys all in various black outfits, and once walking down the main street of shops just off campus. Each time Eddie greets him with a smirk and a ‘hello sailor’ that has Steve blushing despite his best efforts.

After their run in on the street Steve huffs out, “I only wore that shirt one time!”

“I know, but I can’t help thinking about you in a little sailor uniform. Striped shirt, blue pants, dumb hat.”

“I don’t do hats. My hair is my best feature!”

“Don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure you have some other redeeming qualities.”

He gets up in Steve’s face with that one. If he moved just slightly closer their noses would be pressed together and he was more than okay with that.

Steve has never felt this nervous around someone before. He’s no blushing virgin, but at least has some confidence when it comes to hookups. He hasn’t kissed Eddie, doesn’t have his phone number, doesn’t know that much about him but desperately wants all those things. He hasn’t updated Robin on any of these run ins either and has no excuse at this point.  He isn’t sure why he keeps putting it off. Robin had finally asked out the Melissa girl from her lecture and called Steve not even thirty seconds after it happened. They told each other everything. Even some things that should probably be kept private.

Steve was sure Eddie was flirting with him. How could he not be? But there was still some uncertainty about it, as Eddie had a flair for the dramatics. Extremely extroverted and flouncy, Steve didn’t know if this was unique to him or if Eddie treated everyone this way. The only way Steve could figure this out is by working through it.

So, he finds himself that evening sitting on Barb’s couch in the apartment she shares with Nancy, sandwiched between the arm rest and Robin, Pearl the cat curled up on his lap. This is what is known affectionately as “Girls Night plus Steve,” where the four of them gather to talk, watch horrible rom coms, and drink fruity wine. Steve loves Girls Night.

Nancy is leaning against the large armchair, painting her toenails while Barb is checking on the lasagna, she has baking. Robin, already a glass or two deep, is waving her arms around as she updates the others on her love life. Steve is only half tuned in, having already heard this story and absentmindedly petting Pearl. The cat is snoozing away, her fluffy tail tucked between her paws and Steve wonders how quickly Barb and Nancy would realize her disappearance. He would love to get a cat but doesn’t want it to be confined to the small space of his RM room. Once he graduates and moves into a real place of his own, he’s getting a pet.

Robin quiets down after a bit, coming to the end of her story and turns expectantly towards Steve.

“Anything you’d like to share?” she prompts, somewhat teasing.

“Actually yeah. I need some advice.”

“Hold on! Wait for me!” Barb calls from the other room. “I want to hear this too.”

Barb strides into the room and takes a seat in the armchair behind Nancy. Steve looks at the three faces, all people who care about him deeply, and recounts all the events of the past few weeks. Seeing Eddie for the first time, then running into him at the bar-cade. The café visits after learning his name, the liquor store, seeing him on the street. After mentioning the most recent run-in being mere hours before, Steve sheepishly looks at Robin.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner Rob.”

She’s silent, and Steve wonders if she’s upset with him.

“So, his name’s Eddie huh?” she smirks. “Took you long enough to find out.”

“You aren’t mad that I didn’t tell you sooner?”

“Of course I’m not mad! I know how worked up you can get in that brain of yours. Just kind of confused that you two were acquaintances and yet you let me tease you about not talking to him.”

“So, Steve are you going to ask him out?” Barb asks.

“That’s my problem. I don’t know if he likes me like that.”

Nancy levels him with a look, “seriously? You’re joking right?”
He shakes his head.

“This guy is totally hitting on you.”

“He’s an eccentric person, what if he’s like that with everyone?”

Robin takes one of his hands in both of hers, careful not to disturb Pearl.

“Steve. Listen to me. Eddie is totally hitting on you. He doesn’t have a nickname for me, he doesn’t pay attention to what I’m wearing or ditch his friends to hang out with me. It’s okay if you’re nervous about this but don’t let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.”

“Did you just make a sports analogy to me Buckley? I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Uh try A Cinderella Story,” she clarifies. “A cinematic masterpiece.”

“Oh, we should watch that!” Barb pipes up.

Robin quickly agrees, though her enthusiasm is enough to shake the couch and wake up the cat. Pearl gives one last nuzzle to Steve’s hand then scampers off to who knows where. Steve uses this as an opportunity to stretch out his legs while Barb gets the movie set up.

In the kitchen he pours himself another glass of wine and cuts a hefty piece of lasagna. He hears footsteps behind him and sees Nancy standing in the doorway.

“What’s up Nance?” he asks.

“You’re a total catch Steve. As someone who can speak on that, Eddie would be foolish to not want to go out with you.”

Steve isn’t totally surprised by this admission. Not that he has a big enough ego to assume his ex-girlfriend would speak so highly of him, but he and Nancy are in a good place now. He wants what’s best for her so why wouldn’t she want the same for him. Steve also knows that a few months from now, Jonathan is going to get down on one knee and make an honest woman out of her. Unless of course, she beats him to the punch. Steve loves being the middleman, it means he gets to be let in on all the secrets.

“Thanks Nancy. That means a lot, especially coming from you.”

She nods, squeezes his arm briefly and grabs a plate for herself.

When they return to the living room, the movie is all queued up and Steve allows himself a minute to soak in the happiness of being surrounded by people that care about him as much as he cares about them, then a young Chad Michael Murray comes on screen and all genuine thoughts are cast out the window.

After the little pep talk from the girls, Steve decides the next time he sees Eddie he’s going to ask him out. But then he doesn’t see Eddie during the first opening shift of the week, or the second one. Suddenly it’s been a few days and there is no sign of the long-haired man.

He tries not to let it get to him. He thinks about enlisting Nancy and her amazing cyberstalking skills to try and find a social media account but thinks better of it. Eddie will be back. Surely.

Steve doesn’t have much time to dwell on the sudden disappearance of his crush because the day of the movie screening arrives, and Dustin won’t shut up about it. When Steve picks the boys up from in front of their dorm, they’re all wearing various costumes and looking far too pleased despite being almost twenty and dressing up.

As Dustin slides into the passenger seat, he chucks some fabric at Steve, smacking him squarely in the face.

“Ow, shit! What the hell was that for?”

“Your attire for the evening.”

“Oh, absolutely not, you didn’t say anything about me dressing up.”

Lucas, Mike and Will slide into the back, keeping firmly out of the tiff in front of them.

“Steve, I’m doing this in your best interest. You’ll stick out if you don’t wear it and get eaten alive as a fake fan.”

“Who cares if I’m called a ‘fake fan?’ I’m not even a real fan.”

Dustin gives him his best puppy dog eyes and while they don’t work in the way he assumes; Steve reminds himself it’s the kid’s birthday and huffs in surrender.

When they pull into the theatre parking lot, Steve pulls off his normal jacket and shirt in favor of the costume Dustin provided. He has to admit, it could be a lot worse.

He’s wearing a billowy sort of shirt, like a tunic a prince would wear, that Dustin instructs him to tuck into his khakis. He feels like a pretentious snob with it on but the jacket he layers over it is kind of cool. It’s leather, with a few intentional gashes slashed into it, like he fought some otherworldly beast.

His costume feels the most normal compared to the other four, but theirs were clearly crafted with a lot of effort.  Lucas has a quiver of arrows strapped along his back for fuck’s sake.

The group heads towards the front of the theatre where a small crowd has already gathered despite it being so early.

“What’s this movie called again?” Steve asks.

Dustin dramatically shushes him and smiles placatingly at some people giving them the side-eye.

“Raven’s Blood,” he whispers. “Now just shut up and look pretty. You’re going to get us kicked out.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns his back to Dustin. Will is deep in conversation with some girl next to them in line, they’re comparing costumes in what Steve assumes are iterations of the same character. Lucas is typing on him phone, probably texting Max, which leaves him with Mike who stares at him blankly.

“I like your,” Steve touches the end of the sword Mike has resting on one shoulder. “Weapon.”

“Will made it,” Mike says proudly.

At the mention of his name, Will returns his attention to the group, much to the clear disappointment of the girl.

Even though they have tickets, someone working the event comes out to give each of them wristbands. Some sort of identifier that they have access to stay after for the Q&A session with the author. Steve is picturing some older man, with small round glasses and a balding head, who speaks softly and intelligently.

They stand around outside for a bit longer and Steve is honestly kind of grateful for the extra layer of warmth from the leather jacket in the Autumn chill. Finally, a worker dressed as what Steve thinks is an elf based on the pointed ears, opens the door to the theatre and forces everyone into a single file line.

The lobby of the theatre has been transformed into some fantasy realm, with ornate drapes and lights hung around. There are trees that reach over them like gnarled hands and smoke floating along the floors. They are handed specialty snack packs, decorated in the art of the film along with matching popcorn buckets and drink cups.

The lights of the theatre are already half-dimmed when they enter, so Steve does his best to shuffle down the aisle to where Dustin said their seats were. The kid had clearly been on top of purchasing the tickets because they’re dead center and have a perfect view of the screen.

Another elven employee welcomes them once everyone has been seated, gives some dramatic speech about being transported from reality and then bows out of the room.

Dustin is practically vibrating next to Steve. Lucas is much calmer on his other side. The opening credits roll and there is a clear wonderment in their eyes. The joy they’re experiencing is making this whole thing worth it even if Steve doesn’t understand anything on screen. He settles back and lets himself get lost in the crazy action sequences and beautiful fantasy shots. When the end credits roll, Dustin is openly sobbing and Steve himself is a bit misty eyed but does his best to console the kid. They stay seated, with the anticipation of Wayne making his appearance. Dustin fishes out his phone and pulls up a notes tab with questions, an alarmingly long list on there that only grows after finishing the film.

Steve assumed they’d be waiting a bit, but it’s been long enough now that even he is getting antsy. Suddenly, the lights cut out and the crowd falls silent. It doesn’t seem like anyone is even breathing. In a flash the lights turn back on, and a lone figure stands at the front of the room, back turned to the crowd. He twirls to face them, a wild grin on his face.

Well, Wayne isn’t the old man Steve thought he was going to be. Hell, Wayne isn’t even named Wayne.

Eddie in all his glory, holds the crowd’s attention in the palm of his hand. His gaze flits around the room and for a brief second Steve is sure they lock eyes. But Eddie makes no indication of recognition and bounds over to the elf holding out a microphone for him. He grabs it easily and returns to the center, eating up the applause.

“My, my, is this whole turn out just for little ole me?”

The crowd claps even louder. Eddie bows a few times, once to each section of seats. Steve drinks him in and wow does he look great. Dressed in an all-black tailored suit, it hugs his broad shoulders and accentuates his impossibly long legs. His hair is down but shines like it’s been freshly styled.

Steve tries his best to follow along with what Eddie is saying but most of the words mean nothing to him and the confidence he exudes is distracting. After his long-winded speech, he opens the floor up for questions. Dozens of hands shoot up, Dustin’s included. Eddie scans the room, definitely pausing on Steve this time before shifting his gaze just to the right of him, where a squirming Dustin looks like he’s going to pee his pants. Eddie looks back at Steve and silently seems to ask, ‘is he with you?’ Steve can only nod, hoping that was the answer to the silent question.

Eddie whispers to one of the costumed employees who rushes up the aisle with a microphone to hand to Dustin. The sheer joy on the kid’s face at being chosen first by his favorite author to ask a question has Steve overwhelmed with emotion himself. Will, Mike and Lucas are whispering amongst themselves, clearly just as happy for their friend as Steve is.

Dustin rises to his feet, clears his throat before bringing the microphone up towards his mouth.

“What’s your name?” Eddie asks, before Dustin can start talking.

“My name is Dustin.”

“Nice to meet you, Dustin. How did you like the film?”

“It was great!”

“Now do you mean that or are you just being nice to me?”

This gets a laugh from the audience.

“I totally mean it! It really was just like taking the words from the page.”

“Glad you think so. Now go on, what do you want to ask?”

“It’s about the fate of Lady Chriscinda. At the end of Call of the Cursed we see her and Ozzire enter the Field of the Devils seemingly to sacrifice themselves.”

“So, what is your question?”

“I want to know what the hell? I mean, we spend four books building up her story, and her relationship with Jorrug the Throat Carver only for her to what? Run off with some Tiefling Bard and off herself?”

“I like your energy, Dustin; you’ve got that fire in you despite trashing dear sweet Ozzire.”

Lucas leans over to whisper to Steve, “Ozzire is not a sweet character. Just so you know.”

“Oh yeah,” he whispers back sarcastically. “That’s the only information I was missing.”

Eddie continues, “obviously I’m not going to tell you exactly what happens, my publicist would have my head, but I think people have really been underestimating Lady C. I think people are so quick to overlook powerful women and that maybe she knows exactly what she’s doing by straying from Jorrug.”

“Even though he saved her life?” Dustin asks.

“But did he really?” Eddie counters. “Think about it. Great first question though Dustin. Way to kick it off.”

Dustin passes the microphone back to the employee who rushes over to the next person Eddie picked. He sits back down, staring blankly ahead.

“Hey Dustin, are you alright?” Steve nudges him.

“Uh yeah, just rethinking everything I read in Forge of Shadows. I mean maybe I misinterpreted the event in the Isle of the Angels.”

He starts muttering to himself, clearly needing to work through some things.

It is well into the early hours of the morning when the event starts to wrap up. Lucas has convinced Steve to take them for breakfast at a twenty-four-hour diner and they’re waiting for the aisles to clear and for people to shuffle out when an employee approaches.

“Excuse me, would you and your group follow me please?”

He’s looking at Steve, but Dustin starts flailing.

“Oh my god, are we getting kicked out?”

“We can’t get kicked out, the event is over,” Lucas points out.

“Blacklisted then,” Dustin says frantically. “Wayne hated my question so much he’s going to take my photo and keep me from ever coming to a midnight screening.”

“Your question wasn’t bad,” Will says, trying to be helpful.

“C’mon shitheads,” Steve says. “Follow the nice monster man.”

Either the employee doesn’t hear him or is choosing to ignore being called a monster because he doesn’t say anything. Just guides the group down the opposite direction from the crowd and towards some fancy sitting room setup.

Eddie is lounging on one of the plush sofas, a notebook in hand. Dustin is shaking, either from nerves or excitement at being this close to Eddie. Even Mike who had seemed the calmest this event, is visibly interested.

“Hey there sailor,” Eddie says, not looking up yet. “Didn’t think I’d see you at something like this.”

The four younger boys are clearly confused by who is being addressed. Steve wanted to put the nickname behind him, has no choice but to acknowledge it.

“Yeah well, I’m the best former RA on the planet, didn’t you hear?”

“Hmm an RA? I knew you had that maternal instinct about you.”

Eddie shuts his notebook and places it on the table in front of him. He rises and stalks over to the group, stopping in front of Steve. He doesn’t say anything, his eyes roaming over Steve’s attire, appreciating the way he looks in a leather jacket.

“Excuse me, Mr. Munson,” Dustin cuts in, slashing the tension. “Are you going to ban us?”

Eddie turns to look at Dustin but stays in front of Steve.

“Ban you?”

“For asking that question earlier?”

Eddie laughs, “that is not the worst thing I was asked tonight.”

“Then what are we doing here?” Lucas asks.

“Are you going to introduce me?” Eddie asks Steve. “To your gang?”

Steve rolls his eyes, “these rascals are Mike, Will, Lucas, and you know Dustin.”

The boys are all in awe, that their favorite author now knows their names.

“Do you want anything to eat? They gave me way too many snacks.”

Along the wall is a table stacked to the brim with movie theatre food.

“I think we’re good. We’re about to go get some pancakes.”

“Steve,” Dustin hisses. “How dare you ruin this for me.”

“You could join us if you want. Or have the time.”

Eddie smiles at that. Not the confident smirk or the boisterous grin that splits his face in half. A small, genuine one, just for Steve.

“Are you buying?” he asks.

“Hmm, the underpaid college kid or the apparent world-renowned author turned screenwriter. I wonder who should foot that bill.”

“Easy there big boy, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“We’re going to Benny’s, off of main. You know where that is?”

Eddie nods. “Let me finish up some stuff here and I’ll meet you there.”

The promise of food and getting to sit with their literary hero has the boys sprinting to the car. Steve puts his own shirt back on as the sun starts to peak over the horizon, turning the sky a pale pink. When they pull into Benny’s the only other occupants are an older couple clearly starting their day, and some hungover college kids clearly ending theirs. The waitress leads them to the biggest booth in the back, a circular shaped table with maroon vinyl seats that squeaks when they slide in. The boys get a variety of juices and Steve settles for a cup of coffee, in desperate need of caffeine after this unintentional all-nighter. Every time the bell above the door jingles, the four of them whip their heads around, hoping it’ll be him. When it finally is, Eddie catches Steve’s eye from across the room and saunters over, budging Steve over with his hip so he can slide in next to him. He’s ditched the suit for a pair of worn black jeans and a Black Sabbath shirt. Four pairs of eyes stare at the newcomer, no one saying anything. Finally, Steve breaks the silence.

“We wanted to wait and order when you got here.”

“So gentlemanly of you.”

“Figure out what you want man, the waitress is coming and I’m not polite enough to wait longer.”

“You mean you weren’t planning on sharing with me?” Eddie teases.

“I’m getting my own stack of pancakes that you aren’t coming anywhere near.”

Dustin’s watching them from across the table, eyes narrowed like he’s trying to figure something out.

“So, wait, are you like dating or something?” Dustin finally asks.

Steve sputters, nearly choking on the sip of coffee he just drank.

“Oh please,” Mike cuts in. “Like Steve could pull Wayne Munson.”

“Hey!” he protests. Eddie the piece of shit starts howling with laughter.

Will shrugs, “I don’t know guys, Steve is pretty handsome.”

“First off,” Steve cuts in, ready to defend himself. “His name is Eddie, not Wayne. Secondly, why couldn't I pull him?”

“Who is Eddie?” Dustin asks.

Eddie raises his hand, “that would be me.”

“No but, then who is Wayne?”

“Wayne is my uncle. I used his name as a pseudonym to thank him for all the support he gave me growing up and show that we are succeeding together.”

“That’s sweet,” Will says.

Steve is momentarily saved from this nightmare by the waitress returning to take their orders. He gets the pancakes he’d been thinking about and a side of hashbrowns while Eddie unexpectedly orders an omelet.

“It’s all about the protein Steve.”

When the food arrives, the younger boys each take about two bites before hounding Eddie with questions. He apparently doesn’t have much of an internet presence which is why they never learned his real name or why he was in Indiana of all places.

“I’m from around here. It seemed only right to have my first screening back home. Aside from the LA premiere of course.”

They grill him about the characters, where he drew inspiration from, how he was able to create such a complex world. To his credit, Eddie takes it all in stride, pausing every few minutes to take another bite of food though his omelet is surely cold by now.

Bellies full of food and brains full of new knowledge, the group settles into the first moment of quiet since the night before. When the waitress comes to ask about splitting the check, Eddie tells her to bring one and slides over a card, dismissing Steve’s protests. He pockets his card, signs the receipt with a flourish and leads the group outside.

“You can get the next one,” he says cheekily. “Though maybe don’t bring a bunch of children on that date.”

“So, you are dating!” Dustin blurts.

“Go get in the car,” Steve shoves him towards the parking lot.

The boys make no attempt at pretending to not eavesdrop, blatantly staring from a few feet away.

“Thanks for allowing me to join for breakfast. Never have I ever had such fine dining.”

“If I wasn’t intimidated by you before, I don’t even know how to approach this now,” Steve admits.

“You were intimidated by me?”

“Are you kidding? Eddie you’re so attractive, I could barely speak to you at first and couldn’t work up the courage to ask for your number. Now I know you’re a famous writer? Like New York Times best-selling level; yeah, I’ll admit I finally Googled you.”

“Steve, I’m not some A-list out of touch celebrity. I’m just a weird guy from Indiana who liked to hole up in his room for days on end living out this fantasy I created in my head because it beat the real world.”

“You’re so confident!”

“I’ve seen the way you dance around the café; you aren’t exactly shy.”

“Oh man, I have to tell Robin about this. That you aren’t some lame asshole like we hoped. Well not hoped,” he backtracks, realizing it sounds like he’s insulting Eddie. “But it was easier to say that when I was too whacked out to approach you.”

Eddie fishes his phone out of his pocket and passes it to Steve, an empty contact page on the screen. Steve hastily types his name and number in and holds it back out.

“Harrington, huh? That’s a preppy name if I’ve ever heard one.”

“Alright Munson,” he snaps back, no bite to his words.

“Oh, are we doing that last name thing? It’s kind of hot, makes me feel like I jock.”

“I was a jock!”

Eddie looks him up and down slowly, “I can tell.”

The beeping of a car horn startles the two apart and Dustin is leaning over from the passenger seat, hand raised slightly above the wheel.

“Looks like the kids are getting antsy. It’s either I take them home or let them bother you more.”

Eddie wraps an arm around Steve’s bicep before he can move too far and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s softer than expected, a simple press of their lips that speaks volumes.

“For the road,” Eddie says.

Steve finds enough courage within himself to kiss Eddie again. It’s interrupted by another car horn that he answers with a middle finger in the air.

“I could just ditch the kids,” Steve says, pulling away. “Let you drive me home.”

“As much as I want that. I can’t afford to lose fans.”

“Oh bite me.”

“Maybe next time,” Eddie practically growls.

Steve turns to go to his car and can feel Eddie’s eyes on him. When he settles in behind the wheel Dustin makes an exaggerated gagging noise.

“That was gross.”

“If things work out with him, I’ll seduce him into sharing the plot of the next book with me and spoil it for you.”

Steve says this flatly, which makes it even more terrifying for Dustin.

“I mean, yay love,” Dustin chuckles nervously.

“That’s more like it.”

Steve pulls out of the parking lot feeling lighter than he has in a while. He doesn’t even protest when Dustin puts on a Weird Al song and coasts down the Indiana streets looking forward to a new day.

Once he’s dropped the boys back at their dorm, his phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. It’s a message reading, “you’re hot. Want to get coffee?”

Steve laughs. Everything is going to be alright.