Work Text:
“Hey Steve, do you know where we’ve got some bandaids?”
In hindsight, Eddie should have known that a simple question like that would never prompt a simple response from his boyfriend. Steve was many things - brave, loyal, a great cook, wonderful in bed, but most of all - he tool Eddie’s well-being very seriously. He was a raging bull whose red flag was anything related to health, injury, sickness or danger, no matter how small.
Well. Not really raging. More like anxious, caring and always ready to whip out half of a pharmacy.
So of course, the answer wasn’t “they’re in the second drawer,” nope.
Instead, Steve stood up, grabbed Eddie by his shoulders and started checking him for injuries. “Eddie, are you hurt? Did someone in town attack you again? Shit, I thought things’ve calmed down, did you recognize them?”
It would have been hilarious if Eddie hadn’t hated making Steve worried.
He reached for Steve’s hands, still on his shoulders, and put on his most persuasive voice. “Steve, baby, I swear I’m fine! No attacks, no black eyes, no broken bones. I’m completely fine!” He even grabbed his collar and moved it to the side so Steve could check. “See? No strangulation marks. Uh...no new strangulation marks, post-bat.”
Steve seemed to be calming down, good. Fantastic. “So...” he said slowly, “...you don’t need them for yourself? Did one one of the kids get hurt? Wayne?”
Eddie really wanted to punch himself in the face now. Why hadn’t he spent those five extra minutes looking for the bandaids himself?!
“No. Look, Steve. I need them for myself, but for something small. Something very very VERY tiny. I just made a not-so-ideal decision and now I want to treat the consequences.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed and his stare traveled directly into Eddie’s soul. “Eddie. What. Did. You. Do?”
“...I think it would be easier to show you.”
---
In another hindsight, it would have been easier to tell Steve. If Eddie thought seeing the crime scene would calm his boyfriend down, he was dead wrong.
Steve’s eyes traveled over the destruction. Eddie’s books, neatly arranged on bookshelves that morning, were now lying everywhere. The books from the bookcase didn’t fare any better - except the bookcase was now lying on them, over their bed. Speaking of the bed, the plant that they saved from a local dumpster and nurtured back to health? That plant was now depotted over Eddie’s pillow.
He sucked in a breath through his front teeth. “Did someone break in?”
Eddie shook his head so fast his hair became a tangled mess. “No. Nono. Steve. No one invaded our wonderful home. No one damaged our property. I mean, someone did, but it was...very much deserved.”
“Eddie. Explain. Now.”
“Oh yeah. Sure. Will do. Um...how long a version do you want?”
“Concise.”
“Right. In short - Ozzy did this.” Noticing Steve’s disbelieving stare, Eddie quickly added: “But I deserved it. Totally.”
Steve sat down onto the single clean and empty spot on their bed. “Are you telling me that our cat knocked over a full bookcase?”
Eddie had the decency to look guilty. “Oh no, that was me.”
“I take back the “concise” request. Tell me everything. Step by step.”
“Right.” Eddie’s eyes darted between each aspect of the crime scene, trying to put together a reasonable explanation. “So. I was sitting on the bed with Ozzy. He didn’t like something I did and decided to run away, but I was...sort of connected to him.”
“Sort of connected...?”
Eddie waved his hand. “I’ll explain. But as he was escaping, I had to go after him, because you know...connected. And he really didn’t like that. So he jumped up that bookcase and we were still-”
“-connected?” Steve didn’t seem to understand or believe any of it, but he was certainly entertained.
“Yep. So I tried to climb the bookcase and get him down.”
Steve’s palm connected with his forehead with a resounding slap. “Eddie. Do you know how physics work?”
Snorting, Eddie shook his head. “Of course I don’t, Steve. Failed high school twice, remember? But I also know your grades and because of that I dare to say - neither do you. Not that physics would have gotten Ozzy down.”
“That part is true.” Steve was grinning back at him, imagining the chaos. “So, you climbed the bookcase and it fell on you. What next?”
Eddie pointed at the sad remains of Steve’s plant. “I knew how much you love that plant, so I decided to save it. Since it was on that bookshelf. I heroically leapt from the bookcase and towards the plant, but I have miscalculated my daring rescue.”
Steve’s eyebrows did that adorable confused scrunch. “You what?”
“I jumped too fast and it fell on my head.”
“Oh.”
Eddie nodded, touching a sore spot on his nape. “Yeah. And my head gave it that extra bounce to land on the pillow. Wrong side up, I’m afraid.”
Steve reached out to the plant and picked it up, examining its leaves. “I think she’ll live. She’s a strong girl. Continue.”
“Not much more to tell,” Eddie shrugged. “Ozzy used the commotion to disconnect himself from me and darted outside. I got soil out of my hair and went to ask you for bandaids.
Steve was stroking the plant’s leaves, checking for damage. “The one thing I don’t understand is this. How didn’t I hear it happening?”
“Oh, it was much faster than it sounds. And I believe you were washing the dishes.”
“That explains it,” Steve nodded and set the plant into its miraculously unharmed flower pot. “One more question then. How were you connected?”
Eddie started chewing on his hair and looking at the ground instead of Steve. “You know...it’s almost Christmas, right?” he asked in a quiet voice. “And you love Christmas. Everyone knows you love Christmas, so...”
“Eddie. How were you connected?” he repeated slowly, carefully.
He smiled sheepishly, pulling something colorful from his pocket. “Do you know how they say that fate connects you with a red string? Something like that. The rest shall be revealed when we find Ozzy. I think he’s hiding under the sink again.”
Steve stood up and sighed the deepest sigh Eddie had heard in ages. “I have no clue where this is going,”
---
Ozzy was, as Eddie had predicted, hiding under the sink. He was hiding really well, 10/10 would not find the cat, except for the red wool that led from the corridor directly to the bathroom. And when they finally got the unhappy cat out with promises of treats and even more treats, Steve finally saw it and laughed.
“Really, this is what you did?” he asked and reached out to free Ozzy.
Despite his prompt escape, Ozzy still bore wounds from his brave fight against Eddie. Except those weren’t wounds, it was a half-unraveled red Christmas sweater. Steve thought he recognized Claudia Henderson’s work. No matter who knitted it, Ozzy obviously hated the idea.
Eddie was, just like the sweater, bright red. “See, it was nearly finished and I promised to try it on him, just to see if it fits. And when he decided he didn’t like it, which was pretty much immediately, I think one of the loose threads got caught on my rings. So...yeah.”
Steve pulled him into a kiss and scratched Ozzy’s back, now free from the wooly prison.
“You really thought you could get that sweater on our cat? You’re adorable. I’ll get those bandaids.”