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It started, as most of Eddie’s disasters did, with an excess of confidence.
It was a Friday afternoon, and Steve had taken the girls to the park. They were at that specific, chaotic phase where Sam, three years old, was fueled by the kind of never-ending nuclear energy that seemed to live perpetually behind her bright eyes, and Leia, seven, was currently obsessed with excavating "rare" rocks and “dinosaur fossils" from the sandbox.
Eddie had stayed home with the intention of just taking a shower and relaxing for a change, maybe scribbling down a few lyrics while half-watching some mind-numbing reality show on TV.
But then he stepped out of the shower and looked in the mirror.
He thought his bangs were getting in his eyes, and upon closer inspection, decided his ends were looking a little... scraggly. Just a trim won’t hurt, he told himself, hunting down the scissors in the drawer. I can do this without scheduling an appointment with Fabian. It’s just a touch-up.
Besides, Steve was always nagging him about split ends anyway. And Eddie was skilled with handicrafts, he painted minis, he fixed guitar strings, he helped with the store decorations, it wasn't like he couldn't handle a simple pair of scissors. So, Eddie snipped a little off the left side. Then, he snipped a little off the right side to match. But it looked uneven, and suddenly the right was shorter. He frowned, tilting his head. He snipped again. And again.
Suddenly, Eddie stood amidst a pile of dark curls on the bathroom tile, staring at a reflection that looked like he’d been attacked by a weed whacker. It was a chopped, jagged mess.
"Well," Eddie whispered to the empty room. "Shit."
He had two options: shave it all off and look like an army recruit (which would definitely give Steve a heart attack, and considering they were approaching their elderly years, cardiac stress wasn't exactly recommended) or try to salvage what was left with more... modern style? Eddie grabbed the trimmer and started working on the sides, leaving the top longer, praying to God herself, even if he didn't fully believe in her existence, that it wouldn’t look absolutely tragic.So he washed it, toweled it dry, and looked at the result, not quite knowing how to react.
Ten minutes after that, he heard the front door open.
"We’re ho-ome!" Steve’s voice echoed, followed by the unmistakable sound of Velcro shoes being ripped off and backpacks hitting the floor with a heavy thud. "And Sammy found a worm, but she lost sight of it, so it could be anywhere! Watch where you step."
Eddie smiled, and walked out of the bathroom, heading for the living room.
"I hope the worm stayed at its house in the sandbox," he said, descending the stairs until he was standing in the archway of the living room, right in front of them. "Because we’ve already learned that visitors need to call ahead if they want to come over."
The three of them froze simultaneously.
Steve had his keys still in his hand, mid-toss. Leia was halfway through shrugging off her coat. And Sam was on the floor, in the middle of trying to yank her tiny, open-toed sandals off her feet. The silence lasted for three whole, agonizing seconds, until Sam lifted her little blonde head. Her big eyes fixed on Eddie, but an expression of pure, uncomprehending non-recognition flickered across her face. She blinked a few times, her brow furrowing. And then, her bottom lip began to tremble violently. Oh, no.
"Oh," Steve breathed, his mouth slightly agape. "Wow."
"Hey, baby girl, look at—" Eddie started, a warm smile on his face as he took a step forward.
Sam screamed.
It was a full-blown, end-of-the-world, banshee shriek of terror. She scrambled backward on the floor, practically tripping over her own feet, and launched herself at Steve’s legs, burying her face in his jeans.
"BAD MAN! GO ‘WAY!" she shrieked, sobbing hysterically.
Steve, still shocked, bent down to scoop her up, half-holding back laughter and half-worried, looking between Eddie and the toddler. "No, no, honey, that’s Daddy Eddie! It’s him!" She was still crying buckets, and Steve didn't know if he should curse Eddie out, calm their daughter, laugh, or call his husband hot.
Eddie was just as surprised as Steve, unsure if he should approach or retreat, but when he tried to say, "Sammie, it’s me, Daddy, I promise," she only sobbed harder.
Steve hoisted her up onto his hip, patting her back, still amused despite the chaos.
"NO!" The scream came muffled against Steve’s shoulder. "DADDY PRINCESS HAIR!"
Eddie and Steve exchanged a look. Poor thing.
While Sam was having a complete meltdown over her father's sudden change, Leia was still paralyzed, wearing a deep scowl. She held her backpack strap with one hand, her mouth slightly open, staring at Eddie as if he were an alien that had just landed in their living room. She looked at her dad’s exposed ears with such horror.
"Je-sus," Leia said, with the brutal honesty of a seven-year-old and a tone identical to Steve's. "You look... so normal."
The word landed like a mortal insult. Eddie gasped, offended. "Hey! Don’t say that, bug!"
"But you do!" Leia retorted, still stunned, her eyes unblinking. "Why’d you do it? You look like one of those bank guys." The sheer certainty in her voice made him feel like he was paying for all his past sins with a tiny, judgmental Henderson in his own house. He put his hands on his hips. "Steven, your daughter is bullying me."
He turned to Steve, who was still trying to calm a wailing Sam, whispering into her hair. “Hey, hey, nugget,” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to her dusty curls. “It’s okay. It’s him. It’s just Daddy Eddie. He just… took his hair off for a little while.” He shot a pointed, amused look at Eddie over her head. Steve pointed. "Look. He still has the same nose, see? And the same tattoos. Look at all the batties on his arm."
Eddie stepped closer, holding out his arm, showing her the familiar colony of bats she loved to trace with her finger. Sam peeked out with one red, teary eye. She sniffled. She looked at the arm. She looked at Eddie’s face. And then, with deep, profound suspicion, she looked at the hair.
"Princess hair?" she asked quietly, her voice thick with tears, slurring it all into one word: pwincesshwair. "Why?"
"It fell off for a while," Eddie said softly. "But it’ll grow back, like a tree, right? Do you wanna touch it?"
Sam reached out a chubby, hesitant little hand and touched the buzzed side of Eddie’s head. She immediately made a face. "’S bad!"
The brutal honesty of this family was a blessing and a curse on so many layers, but mostly in how his daughters didn't sugarcoat shit, and it probably had nothing to do with their age.
"It is," Leia agreed, stepping closer too.
Eddie laughed, relieved, and kissed his eldest's forehead. "Thanks for the honesty, Lee."
Still wearing that look of absolute shock, Leia held Eddie’s hand, tugging him down until he crouched to her height. She touched the curly quiff on top.
"But here is still so fluffy! Look Sam, super fluffy!" she encouraged her sister.
Steve lowered Sam so she could touch the top of his hair along with Leia, and finally, she seemed to calm down.
Meanwhile, Steve hadn't said a word. He had been standing there, a silent, amused observer, but his eyes were fixed on Eddie. Specifically, on Eddie’s neck, which was now completely exposed, and on the sharp line of his jaw that the long hair had always hidden just a little.
Steve blinked, seeming to snap out of a trance, a light shade of pink coloring his cheeks.
"Honey," he said, his voice coming out a little raspier than planned. "What… what did you do?"
"A mishap," Eddie explained, rubbing a hand over the short bristles at the nape of his neck, a nervous gesture. "I went to trim the ends and… well. This happened. Is it really that bad?"
"Bad?" Steve repeated. He swallowed hard, his eyes sweeping over the messy quiff, the sharp undercut. "No. No, it’s not bad. It’s… I mean, wow. Different. I don’t think I’ve seen you like this in centuries."
"’Kay, but different like, ‘I’m sleeping on the couch’ different, or…?"
Steve let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head as if to clear his (very impure) thoughts. He placed his free hand on the back of Eddie’s neck, his fingers grazing the newly exposed skin, sliding up into the short curls at the top. The touch made Eddie shiver.
"I like it," Steve murmured, low enough so only Eddie could hear, his eyes dark with that intense look that always made Eddie’s stomach do flip-flops. "I love seeing your face."
Eddie grinned, feeling smug. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Steve bit his lip, his eyes darkening a fraction. "It looks really good on you. Like… really good." He turned to the girls. “How about you two go get your juice boxes from the fridge? Careful with the door!” He set a now much calmer Sam down, and she immediately ran with her sister toward the kitchen.
“No running!” they both called out automatically.
Leia stopped halfway there and turned back. "Daddy?" she called out to Eddie.
"Yes, princess?"
"Don't cut it like this anymore, okay?" she asked, her expression deadly serious. "You look like Uncle Johnny."
Eddie couldn’t hold it in anymore: he cackled loudly. Steve just rolled his eyes, a huge smile on his face. The shade that this girl could throw. He was obsessed with her.
"Alright, Lee," Eddie promised. "But only because you asked."
She gave an identical smile and turned back toward the kitchen. When Eddie looked at Steve again, Steve slipped an arm around Eddie’s waist, pulling him close. He pressed a kiss to his mouth and then a quick, firm kiss right below his ear, on that patch of skin that used to be hidden.
“Well,” Eddie sighed contentedly, leaning his head on his husband’s shoulder, “at least someone in this house didn’t totally hate it.” They laughed, stealing a few more soft, happy kisses.
"But seriously," Steve whispered against his lips. "Later… I want to get a much closer look at this cut."
Eddie smiled. Maybe the scissor accident hadn't been so bad after all.