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“Oh,” Steve says, laughing softly.
Eddie closes the washer door. “What’s ‘oh’?”
Wordlessly, Steve hands Eddie the box of detergent from his perch on the adjacent washer. He watches Eddie pour it into the hatch at the top and smiles.
“I just realized something. That’s all.”
Eddie hands the detergent back. He fishes around in his pocket for quarters. Meanwhile, Steve plants his heels on the empty laundry cart and pushes it around idly. The wheels squeak over the low rumble of the washers around them.
“What’d you realize?”
“I figure out what the smell is.”
Eddie frowns. “What smell?”
“What you smell like.”
Eddie’s frown deepens. He shoots Steve a look. Try as Steve might to not be a judgy little bitch, sometimes his upper middle class upbringing comes through. Steve talking about how Eddie smells is reminiscent of the kids who used to pick on him at school and call him trailer trash. They were never very inventive with their insults, nor were they particularly accurate. Eddie shifts his weight between his feet, suddenly feeling awkward in his own skin.
“Sorry, your highness. Didn’t realize my smell offended you,” he snarks. He presses the start button with more force than strictly necessary.
When he looks over at Steve, he looks abashed and runs a hand through his hair.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I mean, you smell good. I like how you smell. You kinda just smell like soap.” He’s nervous, Eddie can tell. He’s rambling and his face is turning pink. “I realized that there’s like, a scent that I associate with you, and I was wondering what it was ‘cause it’s what your place smells like, too. Like your sheets and blankets and everything. And I just realized it’s your soap. Which makes sense, because my mom always gets weird detergent that smells like ‘April Showers,’ whatever that means, and you use this.”
Eddie glances at the box of Cheer sitting between them. “Oh. Huh. What does it smell like?”
Steve’s eyes linger on the box for a second.
“Home.”
“Oh.”
Steve smiles and the corners of his eyes get all crinkly, the way Eddie loves. “Don’t get sappy on me. I was starting to get worried about the fact that I think your uncle smells good. It’s a big relief to know it’s just because you use the same detergent.”
Ducking his head, Eddie hides his laughter in his hair. He steals a look around. Seeing no one, he shuffles over to push the laundry cart aside and stand between Steve’s legs. He wraps one arm around Steve’s calf and rests his chin on Steve’s knee.
“I smell like home, huh?”
“Don’t tease,” Steve pouts.
“I’m not teasing. That’s cute.”
“Yeah, sure. You’re teasing. You’re gonna use this against me.”
“Of course I’m gonna use it against you. Doesn’t mean I don’t think it’s cute, too.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“Mm, big talk for a man who thinks my uncle smells good.”
“Shut up, Eddie.”