Work Text:
Ping.
Eddie's about to commit homicide in an airport terminal. Walk over to that asshole with the laptop and throttle him with the cord. Bury him in a shallow hole, chuck his beeping hell machine right-
Okay, breathe.
He's overreacting. The guy's an inconsiderate jerk, but he doesn’t deserve to be murdered. Eddie's just a bit on edge ‘cause he got up at ass o'clock and now his flight is delayed and his neck is hurting from the plastic chairs and his phone is dying and-
Ping.
Okay, that's it.
Eddie stomps over, propelled by rage and too many energy drinks.
“Hey, asshole!”
Laptop jerk just continues typing. So he thinks he can ignore him, huh? Eddie reaches him just as the laptop dings again, grabs him by the shoulder.
“Hey, dickhead, I'm talking to you.”
Laptop jerk flinches so hard he nearly sends his device flying, head whipping up and-
-shit, he's cute. Big, hazel eyes full of shocked confusion under a swoop of chestnut hair. Perfect, pouty lips parted in surprise. Eddie has a sudden impulse to wrap a hand around the curve of that throat, drop his voice, tell him to say sorry like a good boy.
Which would be … wildly inappropriate.
“Listen,” he says instead. “Your beeping is annoying the living hell outta me, so-”
Something is pressed into his hand. Something rectangular and plasticy, like a business card.
“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters, lifts it so that he can read what it says.
Hi, I'm Steve. I'm hard of hearing.
Wait, what?
Eddie's eyes flit back to laptop jerk's face. He's smiling, but there's a distinct undercurrent of confusion and concern. Like he doesn’t know why Eddie's so angry, which is true of course, because he can't fucking hear, has no idea what he did wrong and fuuuuck, who's the jerk now?
That shallow hole still sounds tempting, just for entirely different reasons.
“Erm, it's just …” he starts, more slowly now, those pretty eyes following the movement of his lips. “I've been wondering if maybe …”
Steve tilts his head.
"... you'd wanna have coffee? My flight's delayed and-”
If the curl of Steve's mouth is anything to go by, he knows exactly that this isn't what he wanted to say.
He nods anyway.
By the time Eddie’s flight lifts off, his phone is dead, but there's a sticky note with a number tucked into his pocket.