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Okay, so, here’s the thing. Eddie knows trans people. Wait, that sounds bigoted. He has friends who are trans. Queer. Not queer because they are trans but because they identify as trans and queer. Off-topic, doesn’t matter, okay. The point is that Eddie is rollin’ with the LGBT. Not just rollin’ but identifies as gay. A homosexual. Throughout his life he’s had many identifiers—some granted to him by others such as freak—and he’s proud to be who he is, which also happens to be gay so he’s proud and out. Always has been. That doesn’t necessarily mean he’s always successful in his pursuits of finding true love or whatever the kids are calling it but he’s out there and he’s doing it.
Except for those rare times he falls so hard for someone it makes him a blabbering idiot and he loses every ounce of self-respect in futile attempts at making them see him because honestly, he’s pretty invisible to the guys he falls for. It sucks, but he can’t change his type and during those times he’s not doing much of anything except pining like a lovestruck puppy.
So, Eddie knows guys. The T and the B and the P and the Q and even the A. You’d think he’s golden then, right? He’s been with guys and others so he knows his way around the letter mafia. Maybe he would be golden if it just wasn’t for that pesky little detail of acting like a fool at any given moment. Like being caught staring at Steve’s chest when he’s wearing a hoodie because he’s not binding and Eddie can’t decide if it’s curiosity or horniness that makes him stare.
(This is a lie. He knows he wants to grab Steve by the counter and do things friends shouldn’t be thinking about doing to each other. Or have Steve do it to him. He’s flexible.)
Robin elbows him in the side whenever he stares, sending him a stare so cold it sends chills down his spine. “Stop being so weird around him or I’m banning you from our game nights. Man, seriously, what’s wrong with you?”
A lot, he wants to reply, but also nothing. So he stays silent, and he thanks Steve for his hospitality and food, and he wrecks them both in Mario Kart because they suck, which is astonishing because they’ve been having game nights since before he got invited.
It’s over too quickly. The match, snacks, the drinks, the night, and he has to leave with Robin because she can’t drive and they won’t let her walk home alone when it’s dark out. He helps clean up while she vanishes into the bathroom and hopes that maybe this is the night he has the guts to ask Steve if they can meet just the two of them and hang out (go on a date) but it never is and he beats himself up over it and tells himself that next time, for sure, but he doesn’t ask and doubts he ever will.
What Eddie knows, he knows well.
But Eddie hasn’t ever asked out an autistic guy before and he’s honestly afraid to do so. Sensory issues are a big part of what’s difficult for autistic people, he knows that much, and he also knows he’s a lot. He’s been told as much by guys he’s dated in the past and most of the time, his a lot is what made them end it. Talking, drama, clinginess, just too much.
“Thanks for the help,” Steve says, not looking at him but at the dishes he’s washing in the sink.
He’s so quiet it’s driving Eddie insane, which is why he can’t ask him out because he’d talk his ear off and cause him to have a meltdown because of sensory overload. Yes, Eddie read up about those. “I heard Robin won’t be here next weekend,” he says, a futile attempt at conversing. As soon as the game vanishes so does their topic of conversation.
“Mmh,” Steve grunts.
Eddie wants to scream. He’s begging the hamster doing all the legwork in his brain on that spinning wheel to think of anything to talk about but he comes up empty.
“She’s visiting her parents and I think she said she’ll be gone a week,” Steve says, just as the silence had taken over the room. He wipes his hand on the kitchen towel, lips narrowed and a scowl on his face like he’s thinking about something bothersome.
“Mhm.” Eddie pushes his hair away from his face and sticks it behind an ear, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks at Steve, watching him as he puts away the garbage from their night. “I’ll take-“
“Do you want-“
They both stop talking, watching the other. Steve smiles and brushes a hand through his hair, which he really shouldn’t have since he just tied a knot on the garbage bag. “You go first,” he says when it’s obvious neither of them dares to go first in case they cut the other off again.
Eddie takes a step closer and grabs the bag. “I’ll take that.” He walks over to the front door because the water is running in the bathroom and Robin’s one second away from joining them and wanting to leave before she falls asleep on the sofa. It’s happened once or twice. He’s pretty sure game nights turned into sleepovers regularly before he joined them.
He looks at Steve and catches his eyes before he averts them. They’re pretty to look at, but Eddie doesn’t get the chance to look into them a lot. Eye contact is difficult for Steve and he doesn’t want to push it. “You up for grabbing lunch then? I know it’s not game night but it can still be fun.”
“Yes,” Steve answers, voice certain and tone steady. He’s nodding with a smile.
Eddie wants to believe he wanted him to ask.