Work Text:
Contrary to popular belief, Steve loved working the night shift at the coffee shop.
Not many people had the habit of drinking coffee at night, so it was rare for the small shop to be crowded, a very good thing in Steve’s book; less crowds meant less migraines, which was definitely a win for him.
Steve also had very decent coworkers. Argyle was a kind soul; nice, always ready to help and most times so freaking high he’d say the funniest things. Shifts with Argyle were never dull. Keith, on the other hand, was kind of a grump, but not really a bad person. And since Keith spent most of his shifts in the kitchen, his grumpiness was manageable.
The only bad thing about this new job was the lack of Robin by his side. They had been working together for so long that now that his best friend was in the opposite shift as his, Steve felt as if he was missing a limb. Still, that was bound to happen sooner or later; there was no way he and Robin would be able to work together forever.
“Steve, your guy is here!” Argyle’s voice called out from the front counter, and Steve couldn’t hold back the smile that immediately lit up his face.
He picked up the box of sugar packets he had come to the storage for and rushed back to the main area, knocking down a tower of napkin packs on his way out. Steve could take care of the mess later, or whatever, right now he really had more pressing matters to tend to.
Like the super-hot man standing by the counter and chatting amicably with Argyle. Dear Lord, he was so handsome it was unfair; from the arms covered in tattoos and the flimsy t-shirts that hugged a toned chest, to the long hair always messily styled and the lopsided smile that made Steve’s knees weak, the man didn’t seem to have a single flaw. At least not to Steve, but maybe he was a little biased.
Dark eyes found him the moment Steve stepped into the room, and his heart started to beat a tad faster as he crossed the few steps that separated him from the counter and took Argyle’s place at the register, handing the sugar packets to his coworker so he could refill the dispensers.
“Eddie, hi!”
The man grinned, his cute dimples making an appearance on his cheeks. “Hey there, sweetheart”
“You didn’t stop by yesterday,” Steve pouted. “We missed you.”
“Yeah, we did, man,” Argyle agreed on his way out, making both laugh.
“Sorry, work ended later than usual last night. You guys were already closed.” Eddie leaned on the counter, toyed with the menu there, but his eyes never left Steve. “How was your day?”
“It was alright, very few customers. Better now, though.”
“Oh, I’m flattered. Do you say that to every customer, or am I a special case?”
“Not every customer, just my favorites.”
And that was another reason why Steve loved working the night shift, maybe even the main reason he enjoyed it so much; with so few customers around, he and Eddie could flirt all they wanted without being interrupted.
And flirt they did.
-
-
“So, did lover boy stop by tonight?” Robin asked as soon as Steve opened the front door. She didn’t even bother with a greeting first.
Steve hung his jacket on the hook behind the door, toed off his shoes and dropped his bag on the floor, purposefully stalling just to annoy his nosy roommate and best friend.
“First of all, his name is Eddie,” he said, plopping down on the couch beside her and stretching his tired legs over her lap, barely giving her time to get her bowl of popcorn out of his way. “And, yes, he stopped by tonight.”
“Aaaw, your boyfriend likes you, Steve,” she cooed, making kissy faces.
Robin was ridiculous. She was also his soulmate and his best friend and the only person who could pull that kind of shit without getting kicked right away.
“You’re an idiot,” Steve laughed. He took the opportunity to grab the popcorn bowl from Robin’s hands and eat some. “We’re just joking around, it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Maybe the first few times, but it’s been months, Steve. No one keeps something like this up if they don’t mean it.”
Steve wanted to believe that, but he couldn’t. There was no way someone cool and beautiful like Eddie would give someone like him any mind. Steve was just a barista. He knew he wasn’t bad looking, but he was a minimum wage worker with no real aspirations other than, maybe, being promoted to manager someday. Meanwhile, Eddie was someone who wore boots that cost thousands of dollars and clothes that screamed expensive!, even if basically all of them had holes and rips.
They could flirt, and banter, and chat, but in the end that was all that was. It had to be.
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he said dismissively, turning his eyes to the TV.
Robin rolled her eyes. Steve could swear she muttered something like, ‘So fucking stubborn,’ under her breath, but he chose to ignore it.
-
-
The worst thing about Steve’s migraines was that they didn’t have any kind of pattern.
He knew some of the triggers, and did all he could to avoid them, but some days the pain just came without warning. His eyes would get blurry, dark spots dancing every time he blinked, his brain would get cloudy and make thinking harder than it should and half an hour later the sharp pain would come, making Steve feel as if his head was splitting in half.
When he was at home that wasn’t such a problem; Steve just locked himself in his room, closed the blinds, took the painkillers his doctor prescribed and slept it off. But when it happened during work it was a whole new level of pain altogether because he had to pretend that he didn’t want to hide behind the counter and cry.
He wished he could hide behind the counter and cry right now.
“Hey, dude, you okay?” Argyle asked, a comforting hand resting on Steve’s shoulder.
He must look like shit if even Argyle had clocked Steve’s distress. There was nothing he could do, though, his head had been throbbing so much for the past hour that Steve could barely keep his eyes open.
“Headache,” he answered, offering a smile he hoped didn’t look too pitiful.
He failed, judging by the concern on Argyle’s face. His coworker pursed his lips, eyes briefly roaming the shop and the handful of customers occupying a few tables.
“You know what, why don’t you take a break? I’ll handle things around here.”
“No, man, I’m okay. I can still work,” Steve protested. Argyle gave him no mind.
“I know you can, but there’s no need for you to,” he said, pushing Steve carefully towards the breakroom. “Take some painkiller or something, rest for a while on that lumpy couch, then come back when you’re not about to start crying, yeah? I’d offer you a joint, but last time I smoked here I got a written warning.”
Steve ended up doing as he was told because, honestly, even the warm light on the sitting area was making him tear up a little.
He muttered a quick ‘thank you’ to Argyle, then made his way to the breakroom. A deep sigh tumbled down Steve’s lips when he turned off the lights, and his poor brain finally got a break from all the unwanted stimulation. He flopped down on the couch, arms coming up to cover his eyes as he took a breath.
He hated these migraines. He hated his stupid brain for being so weak and sensitive, he hated Billy fucking Hargrove for beating the shit out of him so bad in High School that left him damaged for life, he hated he couldn’t do shit about it, and he hated feeling powerless and useless.
Hot tears fell from his eyes and Steve pretended they were just a product of his pain.
He spent a good while there, in the dark breakroom, waiting for the pills he had taken to kick in and do their work. There was nothing else Steve could do other than wait for the pain to ease on its own accord; he had learned that over the years.
Steve had no idea how long he had been there in the dark. He just knew it must have been at least twenty minutes because the sharp pain in his head had turned into a dull throb behind his eyes, so the painkillers were already working. He let his arms fall down from over his head as the pain eased, but he regretted it when someone opened the door and a streak of light sneaked into the room. Steve hissed as pain bloomed once again, making him nauseous.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Even through the pain, Steve was still conscious enough to recognize Eddie’s soft voice. He opened his eyes, tried to see where Eddie was, but his vision was still too unfocused.
“Eddie?” he called, hating how meek and vulnerable his own voice sounded.
“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart.”
He heard Eddie’s footsteps approaching, then felt the couch dip under his weight as he sat on the edge. Cool fingers brushed his forehead, and Steve couldn’t hold back the whine that escaped him.
“Argyle told me you had a headache,” Eddie whispered, his fingers gently massaging Steve’s temples. “How bad is it?”
If it was anyone else there, Steve would probably deflect, but Eddie had some kind of power over him that made Steve incapable of lying to him.
“Horrible,” he choked out, pressing his forehead further against those blessed fingers. The pain was still very much there, but the gentle massage was a balm to Steve’s senses, especially when Eddie moved from his temples to his hair. “Wanna puke.”
“Would you let me take you home, Steve? I don’t think you should drive right now.”
He definitely shouldn’t. Just the thought of driving right now made Steve’s stomach churn even more. But that wasn’t the main problem there.
“Can’t, still gotta work.”
“No, you don’t. It’s closing time, and Argyle and Keith are already cleaning the shop. They said you can go.”
Damn, did he pass out without noticing? What the hell!?
“Come on, sweetheart, let’s go home.”
Eddie’s fingers retracted from their place on Steve’s hair, but he had no time to miss it because Eddie soon was pulling him up in a hug, then picking him up as if Steve weighed nothing at all.
He should probably feel embarrassed about it, but Steve was too busy pushing his face against Eddie’s neck to block out the light, and trying not to throw up, to really care about anything. He’d have time to freak out later.
-
-
The next morning, Steve still felt like shit, but at least the pain was gone, and the sunlight didn’t feel like needles piercing his retinas anymore. Steve counted that as a win for sure.
“How’s your head?” Robin asked when he finally showed his face in the kitchen, offering him a cup of tea once he sat down next to her. “Argyle texted earlier saying he talked to Joyce, and she changed your shift to give you a night off.”
“The pain is gone, but my head still feels like it’s full of cotton.” He took a sip of his tea, rested his head against Robin’s shoulder. “Did Argyle say anything about Eddie?”
“No?” The confusion was clear in Robin’s voice. “Why would he say anything about Eddie?”
“He brought me home last night because I couldn’t drive. You were still out with Chrissy when we got here.”
No answer came. Reluctantly, Steve lifted his head from his best friend’s shoulder to look at her, just to find Robin already looking at him as if he had grown a second head.
“Are you fucking serious right now?” she asked, and Steve grimaced when her voice came out too loud.
“Please don’t yell,” he said. “I’m still not one hundred percent here.”
“Sorry.” Steve rested his head against her shoulder again, and Robin’s started massaging his scalp as an apology. “But, Steve, you told me this thing with Eddie was just a joke. You told me that a hundred times, but now you’re telling me this guy you’ve been flirting with for months stepped up and brought you home, probably put you to bed because I know how you get when you have a migraine. I’m sorry, Dingus, this doesn’t feel like a joke to me.”
It didn’t feel like a joke to Steve either. As much as he refused to grow any hope, he also knew people didn’t usually do that kind of thing for someone they didn’t care about. Steve could try to deny it, ignore it, pretend he didn’t see what was going on right in front of him, but facts were facts and Eddie apparently cared about him a lot.
He bit down his lip, closed his eyes. His heart was pounding in his chest.
“I don’t wanna think about it, Robin,” Steve admitted. He felt too raw right now, too sensitive. “Can we please talk about this later?”
She sighed, her fingers kept massaging his scalp. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
Steve loved her very much.
-
-
So, Steve had a crush.
Gosh, that sounded so stupid, even in the safety of his own thoughts. He wasn’t a freaking teenager, for fuck’s sake.
He still felt like one, though.
“It could be worse, Dingus,” Robin reasoned, as he pulled the car over in front of the library. “He could be an asshole. Thank God you’re over your bad boy phase.”
Steve smiled at that. Robin would never have said that if she’d seen what Eddie looked like. He may not be an asshole, but he still fit the stereotypical bad boy description perfectly.
“Sure, whatever you say.”
She grabbed her bag on the back seat and got out of the car.
“Just ask him out, okay?” Robin said, leaning on the window. “Stop overthinking this, you’ve already wasted too much time.”
“Go away, Robin. You’re gonna be late.”
She smiled at him, then finally left. Steve waited until she was inside the building to drive off.
-
-
Asking Eddie out, however, was easier said than done.
In all those months they’d been flirting with each other, Steve had never asked for his number, and neither had Eddie. They saw each other almost every night, so there was no need for that.
Steve regretted that now. One week after taking him home, Eddie still hadn’t shown up at the café again, and Steve was getting worried.
Did he say something weird the night Eddie helped him? The migraines usually made Steve a little dumb and loose mouthed, so that wasn’t too far of a guess. Oh my God, what had he said?
“Man, you’re gonna get wrinkles too soon if you keep frowning like that,” Argyle said. He pressed a thumb over Steve’s forehead, forcing him to relax his face.
Steve swatted his hand away. “Stop that, the customers are looking.”
“Whatever.”
The rest of his shift passed pretty much the same way. Customers got in, Steve took their orders, Argyle made their drinks, and so on, so on.
Eddie never showed.
When closing time came, they cleaned up whatever needed to be cleaned, Argyle and Keith tidied up the kitchen and sitting area, and Steve stayed behind to lock everything up. He was almost done with the last lock when he heard frantic footsteps behind him and he turned around in a hurry, ready to protect himself against whoever was trying to surprise him.
But it was just Eddie. Out of breath and with his hair a wild mess, but still Eddie.
Steve’s body relaxed.
“Are you trying to scare me to death?” he asked, hand over his chest, but voice even.
Doubled over, hands on his knees, Eddie lifted a finger, quietly asking for Steve to wait a moment so he could catch his breath. The action was so sudden that Steve actually did.
“I was—” Eddie started, then stopped. Took another breath before standing up straight and staring at Steve. “I was wrapping up recording when I realized it was almost closing time, so I had to run all the way here from the studio.”
“And how far is that?”
“Five blocks.”
“Five—Eddie! It’s two in the morning!”
Eddie chuckled, taking a step back. “Totally worth it,” he said with a small, flirty grin. “One week without seeing your pretty face is too long.”
Steve’s cheeks burned immediately, and he knew he was blushing. “Where have you been, by the way?”
“We’re almost done recording the new album, so we’ve been pulling all-nighters the whole week. I can’t wait to wrap this shit up.” Eddie didn’t miss the surprise on Steve’s face. “What? What did you think that had happened?”
“I—uhn. You kinda disappeared after that night. You know, the night you helped me.”
“And?”
Steve cleared his throat, suddenly shy, averted his eyes because looking at Eddie right now was too much. “I thought I had said something wrong,” he admitted, shoving his hands deep in his pocket to stop them from trembling. “I don’t know, now that I’m saying it sounds stupid.”
“Wha—No. Steve, come on, look at me.” He only did because Eddie sounded distressed. He was way closer than he had been a second ago, almost into Steve’s personal space. Steve couldn’t bring himself to care. “I wanted to come sooner, I swear. I tried, last night and the night before, but the guys kept nagging and stalling and when we were finally done it was almost dawn. I actually had to leave them in the studio tonight to make it on time. They are still there, you know.”
“Oh. Won’t you get into trouble?”
Eddie’s eyes dropped shamelessly to Steve’s lips, then back to his eyes as he slowly leaned in. “I honestly don’t care, sweetheart.”
Steve met him halfway, and it was the best decision he ever made.
-
-
Coda
Steve woke up with the sound of Robin screeching somewhere in their apartment.
He was out of bed in a moment, stumbled out of the room and followed the sound blindly until he finally found her standing in the threshold that separated their kitchen and living room.
“Robin, are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
When Robin turned towards him, her eyes were huge, and she was as white as a ghost.
“S—Steve,” she stuttered, lifting a shaking finger towards their kitchen. “Why—why is Eddie Munson half naked in our kitchen?”
It took Steve a while to understand what she meant, but he finally relaxed when he did. “Oh, that. He stayed the night.”
Robin seemed to be a moment away from passing out. “How do you even know him?”
“From the shop, I’ve been telling you about him for months. How do you know him?”
“He’s fucking famous! Everybody knows him!!”
Steve hummed, thoughtful. “He told me he was in a band, but I never bothered to look it up. Didn’t seem like the kind of music I would enjoy.”
“Oh my fucking god!!!”