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It’s a nightmare to be trapped here. Snowed in, alone with Eddie Munson.
Robin and Chrissy were supposed to be here with them; they’re the reason why Steve even agreed to this stupid weekend trip to an isolated cabin. But they’re stuck a few towns over, probably cosied up in a hotel room for the night.
The roads are blocked, thanks to unforeseen weather changes, so right now, there’s no coming in or getting out of this hell.
It was a stupid idea to split up, but Robin insisted they’d go ahead while the girls took a detour to buy groceries on the way. ‘It’ll give you two some time to get to know each other better,’ she’d said, ‘Eddie is a really nice guy, I’m sure you’ll get along.’
Yeah, right.
Just because he’s his best friend’s new girlfriend’s best friend, doesn’t mean Steve has to like him. He doesn’t. Eddie is strange. Lanky and clumsy, looking like some 80s rockstar wannabe with his long hair and ripped skinny jeans. And he hasn’t stopped talking since they got here.
It’s starting to give him a headache.
“So, bad news first, there’s no TV. But, the stereo works and I found some board games. Guess we’ll at least have something to do in the meantime.”
Eddie beams at him, his grin so big and bright it makes Steve want to scream.
“I hate games,” he grumbles, and it’s a lie, really, but he’s decided to sit this out. As far away from Munson as the tight space allows.
“Oh. Okay. Maybe we, uh-” Eddie looks around, eyes searching for something else to annoy Steve with.
“Right, fire!” he exclaims and immediately clambers over to the fireplace, the only heat source in this godforsaken cabin.
Steve watches him pick up the bucket with ready-to-use firewood, carelessly dumping half of the logs into the open space. It’s all Steve can take.
“What the hell are you doing?”
It must come out a lot angrier than he intended because Eddie flinches so hard, Steve almost feels bad for it.
“S-sorry. I, uh, I just wanted to warm up the room.”
Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and exhales deeply before walking over to where Eddie is standing, staring at him like a frightened deer, his dark brown eyes so big it makes him look like a cartoon character.
“Yeah, well,” Steve starts, bringing his voice down to a much softer tone, “That’s not how you make a fire. You gotta start small, build it up to give the flames room to breathe.”
Eddie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, but Steve can feel that he’s watching him clear out the mess to start from the bottom.
He instructs Eddie to hand him some pieces of kindling and Eddie wordlessly does what he’s told.
“There are multiple ways to do this, but this is how it’s always worked best for me.”
He creates a small heap with firelighters and crumpled sheets of newspaper, before building a little wooden pyramid on top (and if he makes it look extra neat just to brag, that’s his secret). When he’s done, he turns back to Eddie, who looks more than slightly impressed.
“Now we light it and wait. And once the fire’s going, we can add more wood.”
Steve pats his pockets in search for a lighter but Eddie’s quicker, holds his one out for Steve to take.
“You do it,” Steve says and can’t help to feel a sense of relief when Eddie’s expression finally relaxes again, lips forming a tentative smile.
“Why do you know how to do this?”
They both have their eyes on the fire, standing side by side, watching as the flickering flames slowly eat their way up.
“Rich parents, big house, big fireplace to show off,” Steve stoically explains. “My father didn’t teach me much but that, he showed me.”
It sounds way sadder than he hoped it would and Eddie must sense it, too, because he bumps their shoulders together in sympathetic solidarity.
“Well. All my father thought me, was how to hotwire cars, so. Yours is definitely more practical.”
That makes Steve laugh.
“Ah, you never know when yours might come in handy.”
Eddie’s smile widens, and for the first time, Steve allows himself to really look at him. Notices the fine laugh lines on his face, and the way his eyes sparkle in the orange glow. How soft he looks, despite the wild and untamed exterior.
Maybe Robin was right. Maybe they could get along, if Steve gives it a chance.
Outside, the snow is still falling like crazy, but inside it’s warm and cosy. They’re sitting on a fake fur rug in front of the fireplace, talking. Eddie is a great storyteller, Steve finds, as he listens to him slip into different roles to give the narration more depth.
Steve doesn’t know when he’s last laughed that hard, hasn’t felt this at ease in a long time. Eddie makes him feel strangely comfortable for someone he doesn't even know that good.
“Hey, uh, I just wanted to say sorry. For earlier. I was a dick and you didn’t deserve it.”
Eddie takes him in for a moment, before he lets out a dramatic sigh. Hand to his chest, he looks like he’s about to scold him for his behaviour but what he says instead, catches Steve off guard.
“I do appreciate your apology, Steve. Although I generally have nothing against dicks.”
He cracks up laughing but Steve nearly chokes on his own spit. He’s blushing, and it takes him a second to realise why.
The problem was never Eddie; it was the shape of his lips and colour of his eyes and the way he smiles – because Steve is weak for it all.
That's why he put up a wall. But Eddie has pushed past it so easily, is slowly getting under his skin.
And all Steve can do now, is surrender and let it happen.