Work Text:
Leather looks nice and it’s comfortable as hell, but it’ll be a pain in the ass come summer.
“But it’d be metal as fuck.” Eddie argues.
“It’s, I don’t know, impractical. Come on, man, three seats? Nah, at least if we get the brown sectional we have more space annndd we could pull off the cover to wash it.”
“Expect a lot of fluids to sully our couch, aye, Stephen?” Eddie squints.
“It’s Steve.” He replies, then walks Eddie to the sofa in question. “And yeah, you’re the clumsiest person I know. And we’ve both met Robin.”
“God said, you can only have good hand-eye coordination or those deviant, sinful genes that makes a guy wanna blow another in the parking lot of a Piggly Wiggly. Not both.”
“Is guy suppose to be you?” Steve asks with a raise brow. The back of Eddie’s knees are at the edge of the sofa.
“Duh, man, I’m the most clumsiest person I know. And we’ve both met Robin.”
“Cute.” Steve says, and all but throws Eddie into the cushions.
Eddie whimpers. Melts. Groans so inappropriately that Steve has to kick him in the shin to get him to simmer down.
“Dude, this is a family place so would you keep it g-rated?”
“Out of body right now. Leave a message.” Eddie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath. “After. The. Beeeeeeep.”
“So?”
“I concede. I surrender. I god damn yield.” Eddie says. “Is this—am I dead?”
“See? Imagine kicking off your shoes after a long day of running around the restaurant.”
“God? Is that you?”
“No, but I get that a lot.”
This opens Eddie’s eyes. He frowns. Shakes his head.
“Nah, man, you can do better than that.”
“What I keep telling myself, but for some reason I still keep you around.” Steve says, offering Eddie a hand up. Eddie takes it and immediately pulls him into a side hug.
“Atta-boy.”
-
Quilt and wood? That’s summer camp. That’s visits down at the his parent’s lakehouse for the Fourth of July. That’s grandma sneaking you her kitchen sink cookies when your parents aren’t looking. It’s stealing whatever you can find from the linen closet and making forts in front of Saturday morning cartoons. It’s a—
“Hell no.” Eddie scoffs.
“Dude, can’t beat a classic.”
“Its antiquity is not being questioned here, Harrington.” Eddie says, face scrounged up in disgust.
“Why are you shitting on all my suggestions?”
“Because we’re two young twenty-somethings who binge drink on Thursdays, and not Ethyl and fuckin’ Bethyl settling down from a wild night of bingo at Cedarwood Senior Home.”
Steve crosses his arms and mutters, “I was just joking about the floral print pillowcases.”
“Okay, yeah, you’re done. My turn.“
Eddie doesn’t give Steve the chance to protest. After a quick peruse around the selection of comforters, Eddie finds a dark grey one with light grey stripes. It’s thick and heavy, and looks soft as hell.
Steve, still sore about being knock down, doesn’t say that though.
“If this was up to you, our bed would be on the ground with two sheets and a pillow we have to fight over.” Steve says.
Eddie turns on him and cocks his head to the side. Narrows his eyes. Steve glares.
“You forget to eat or something?” Eddie asks.
“Fuck off.” Steve pushes at his shoulder.
“Will a Swedish meatball calm you down?”
“The blanket, Eddie.”
Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and places his hand on the display comforter.
“What’dya think?” Eddie asks.
He rubs a bit of its cloth against his cheek. Steve pulls off, giving the hovering department attendant an apologetic smile.
“I dunno…” Steve says, but he can’t keep up the lie.
“It’s simple. It’s practical. It’s like, so nondescript that it’s almost a statement.” Eddie says in a rush.
“That sentence meant nothing but we’ll circle back to that,” Steve says and is at a loss, because it’s nice. It is. And he really doesn’t want to agree.
“Fine, it’s not bad.” He says.
“Not bad is as good as a maybe. And sweetheart, your maybes always lean yes with the right push.”
“Calling me a push-over, Munson?”
“Course not, man.” Eddie says, throwing in their new bedding into their basket. “I’d never.”
-
He isn’t sure that’ll fit, but he wants it real bad. It’s silly, but he even thinks that he’s never wanted anything this badly. Which means he’s officially an adult. With adult appetites. It’s gross how much he’s excited.
“How bad,” Steve asks between pants, “do you want it?”
They are both soaked and out of breath. And no matter what, it’s just not going in.
“Well, if you’d grab a better hold of that leg…” Eddie tries, but he’s also struggling. They both pause their work.
“Look, I know I talk big game, but I feel like my body is on fire back here, man, can’t we just—“
“Thought you said you could go aaaaall afternoon, big boy?”
“That was before I knew it was going to be ninety-eight degrees out.”
“What if it like, warps, or I dunno, fades in the sun while we’re gone?”
Steve groans and tugs off his shirt. Eddie watches because who the hell is going to stop him?Steve’s not wrong, it’s fucking searing out, but he really is worried about their new purchase. Sure Steve was the one to find it, but Eddie was the one that had to have it—it being this ridiculously long, 6-person, solid walnut table that could extend out to 8. It’s everything he wanted in a dining table and a son of bitch puzzle to get into the damn house. Once they figure it out, he’s drafting up a new campaign.
“Okay, okay. We just have to adopt a new strategy. We take off the table legs. Then it’s extender pieces. And boom.” Steve says, and then points at Eddie before he can argue, “But boom after beer break.”
Eddie ties up his hair. Most of it falls back down again. He gestures for Steve to walk before him with a hand out and a deep bow.
“Boom after beer break.” He sighs.