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“And you’re sure there’s no one else available for this job?” Steinbeck asked with barely concealed exasperation as he stared at Fitzgerald.
“Afraid not, old sport,” Fitzgerald replied, attempting to sound sympathetic. “Everyone else is busy preparing for the final mission in Japan. Don't you worry though, the job is simple enough. All you need to do is take out this man right here.”
Fitzgerald slid a photo across the desk towards Steinbeck. The man in the photo seemed to be around 40 years old, with greying hair and glasses. Overall very average. Steinbeck took the photo and slipped it into his pocket.
Fitzgerald continued, “This is the last loose end I need tying up before we can begin our main operation. I trust that you and Lovecraft will carry out this assignment to the best of your abilities.”
“Of course, sir.”
“All the relevant information including timing and location is on the back of that photo. Read it carefully, alright?”
“Yes sir,” Steinbeck answered, shifting his feet slightly.
“You’re free to go. Relay the details to Lovecraft as soon as possible.”
“I will. Thank you, Boss,” Steinbeck replied. He turned on his heel and briskly walked out of the office.
Meetings with Fitzgerald were always so tense. Keeping his hatred for the man at bay was a difficult task, but feigning respect for him was even worse. Steinbeck couldn’t stand those rich types, so frivolous with their finances, living their whole lives without ever experiencing any real hardship. As much as he wished to be free from that man, his family needed the money, and he’d be damned if he let them starve. So he stayed.
Forcing his boss out of his mind, Steinbeck took out the photo and began reading the back as he made his way down the hall to Lovecraft’s room.
The note explained that they would be nearby at a ball, which meant having to dress up to blend in. Not something either of them would enjoy, but they had no choice. Their provided outfits were, apparently, already in their respective closets, so the only thing Steinbeck needed to do was arrange their mode of transport. Easy enough; they could just take Rocinante, park around the corner, and walk to the venue.
Reading further, the note told him the entire ball schedule, with annotations instructing when they should carry out the hit.
The mission itself was simple enough. Just your run-of-the-mill assassination, nothing he hadn’t done before. The real difficult part was the setting. Remaining inconspicuous throughout the entire ordeal would be a lofty task with Lovecraft there, even if they did find a way to avoid the dancing portion of the event. He stood out like anything; towering over everyone at 6'2 with lengths of deep blue hair. Even if the problem of his tattered clothing was already taken care of, dealing with the rest of him would be difficult.
Due to being summoned so frequently throughout his God knows how long life, Lovecraft had become familiar enough with humans that he could interact with them competently, only leaving his conversational partner mildly unsettled in the worst cases. However, there were still many things he had yet to encounter. To avoid drawing attention throughout the evening, Steinbeck would have to stick close to Lovecraft so he could step in if anyone became suspicious.
He smiled for a second at the thought of being close to Lovecraft before shaking his head and quickening his pace. It was… unnerving how often he’d been having these kinds of thoughts. Anyone else in his situation would have been afraid of Lovecraft, maybe even to the point of downright refusing to work with him, but Steinbeck had never felt that way towards him. His true nature never bothered him in the slightest.
In the nearly a year that they’d been working together, Lovecraft had shown Steinbeck more grace than anyone else had before. He never looked down on him for any reason because it simply did not occur to him that he should. Steinbeck truly felt like they were equals when they worked together, despite the glaring reality of him being human and Lovecraft being… that.
Steinbeck was… drawn to him. That's as much as he was willing to admit out loud.
In truth, he’d thought he was beautiful since the day they met. He knew he shouldn’t – the guy wasn't even human for heaven’s sake. But his unique features were just so captivating. His carved cheekbones and gorgeous, flowing lengths of hair were stunning. Only recently had this attraction developed into deeper affection for the man. Steinbeck found it easy to accept himself being gay, but loving a monster was a whole other thing to come to terms with.
He insisted to himself that he was content with just being partners, yet not a day went by where he didn’t consider what it would be like if they were more. Even just being referred to as Lovecraft's partner made him ache. It’s why he rarely used the word himself.
Meetings recently had been a blur; Fitzgerald’s voice fading into the background as he stared at Lovecraft throughout the whole discussion. He took notice, though never seemed bothered by it despite mentioning previously how uncomfortable he felt when people watched him.
So much of his time was spent wondering about Lovecraft. What is he really? How human is that form of his? He wasn’t even sure if Lovecraft would be capable of reciprocating his feelings.
Thinking back on their time together, he remembered instances where Lovecraft had shown emotion. Outside of his default tired state, Steinbeck had seen him experience shock, fear, and happiness among other things. If he could feel all those, surely he was also capable of love? He hoped so. Even then, it was one thing to simply have the capacity to love – it was a whole other thing for him to love a human.
Breathing a deep sigh, Steinbeck continued down the hall until he reached Lovecraft’s door.
Knock knock.
“Lovecraft? It's me. We have new orders from the boss.”
He heard shifting from behind the door as Lovecraft got up to let him in.
“What is it?” Lovecraft asked, moving away from the door and back to his bed. He'd clearly only woken up a moment ago.
“Assassination mission,” Steinbeck explained as he walked into the room. “We’re infiltrating a ball, so we’ll need to focus on laying low alongside the main objective.”
“Ball…” Lovecraft repeated contemplatively.
“You heard of ‘em?”
“Yes. though I am unfamiliar with what they involve.”
“It's basically a huge fancy party thrown by rich people,” Steinbeck explained. “Everyone dresses up nice, has food, then dances together.”
“I don't see how that's any different from a regular party,” Lovecraft remarked, frowning.
“Well, the dancing at these things is a lot more serious. There’s basic steps you need to learn, and people will look at you weird if you don’t do it properly.”
“This sounds complicated.”
“I suppose it is,” Steinbeck laughed a little. “Honestly, I’m hoping to avoid the dancing altogether, but we still need to be prepared in case things don’t go our way.”
“So you’re saying we need to practice dancing together.” Lovecraft’s words came out as a statement rather than a question.
Steinbeck blushed at this, only now realising where he’d led the conversation.
“Y-yeah, I suppose we should. Two men dancing together might raise some eyebrows, but we’d definitely draw more attention to ourselves if we separated.”
This definitely won’t go well Steinbeck thought, but he’d be an idiot if he passed up an opportunity to be close to Lovecraft.
He pulled out his phone and opened YouTube.
“I don’t know how to dance either, so we’ll need to watch a tutorial,” he said, pressing play on the video and propping up his phone on the shelf so both of them could see.
Lovecraft stood up from the bed and joined Steinbeck in the middle of the room. The video said they should tape a square on the floor to help stay in place, but they had no tape on hand. The room was small, so if they did end up moving too far, they’d hit the furniture. The thought of tripping over in a moment like this would certainly keep Steinbeck in line way better than any taped square could.
They practiced the steps in time with the video, separately at first, moving around their imaginary squares until they felt confident enough to go further. Steinbeck went to the shelf, skipped the video forward, and stood back in front of Lovecraft.
The couple in the video began getting in position. They explained that the man is typically the leader of the dance, so same-sex couples would have to decide between themselves.
“Uhhhhh…” Steinbeck started. “Would you prefer to lead, or…?”
“I think it would be best if you lead,” Lovecraft decided. “This form doesn’t always… behave.”
“Alright then,” Steinbeck said, smiling to cover up his nerves, though he was sure Lovecraft could sense them.
They stood in front of each other and looked back at the video to copy their movements. Lovecraft raised his right hand, and Steinbeck was grateful he was too busy watching the video to see the blush forming on his cheeks. Realising he should probably move sometime soon, he hesitantly raised his left hand until they were touching, resting briefly against each other before gently clasping together. Steinbeck had held hands with plenty of girls before (when he was still in denial about being gay), but this was his first time being that close with a guy. It felt so much more intense, like an electric current was passing between them. Lovecraft’s hands were cold, but the moment was so warm.
The couple in the video then put their free arms around each other, with the man’s hand holding the woman’s back and the woman’s hand resting on the man’s shoulder.
Okay, breathe. This will be fine.
They lifted their arms at the same time, slotting between each other and settling their hands in place. Their height difference was so much more apparent in this position, which was actually to Steinbeck’s advantage. It meant he could keep his head down and avoid looking Lovecraft in the eyes.
Steadily, they began moving in time with the counts in the video, stepping around their now combined imaginary square. After a few minor stumbles, they eventually grew more confident and were able to carry out the steps with ease. Steinbeck’s heart was out of control; there's no way Lovecraft couldn’t feel his erratic pulse under his fingers.
He could sense Lovecraft staring down at him, his gaze piercing. It made his face burn even hotter. Keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the floor, they continued dancing.
His breath caught for a second when he suddenly felt Lovecraft’s thumb softly caressing his shoulder. He snapped his head up, locking eyes with Lovecraft for the first time since they’d begun dancing.
“You’re very tense,” Lovecraft explained. “I thought something like that might help you calm down.”
“A-ah… thanks Lovecraft.”
“I’m sorry if it’s my fault you’re uncomfortable.”
“No!” Steinbeck accidentally shouted before clearing his throat and evening out his tone. “Sorry. No, it’s nothing like that, I promise. I’m just… don’t worry about it.”
“Alright.”
Attempting to compose himself, he focused on the sound of the video, which was now explaining how to begin travelling in a circle. Steinbeck knew they didn’t have enough space to do that here, so he let go of Lovecraft and stopped the video. The loss of his touch was jarring, but he also felt like his heart would give out if they stayed like that any longer.
If they did end up having to dance on the night, he’d just have to pray that he didn’t go into cardiac arrest. Inhaling deeply, Steinbeck put his phone away and turned back to Lovecraft.
“I suppose that’s as good as we’re gonna get at that,” he laughed dryly. “We should be out of there before the dancing starts, so it’s unlikely we’ll need to do that again, but it’s good to be prepared I suppose.”
“Yes,” Lovecraft responded bluntly.
Silence hung heavy in the air, both unsure of where to go from here.
“Uh, I’ll start getting everything else ready for the mission.”
“Alright. Do you need my help?”
“I don’t think I will. Almost everything has been prepared for us already.”
Steinbeck walked to the door to let himself out.
“See you tomorrow, Lovecraft!”
“John?”
“Yeah?” Steinbeck answered, caught off guard. Lovecraft rarely addressed him by name, let alone his first name.
“I enjoyed dancing with you.”
Steinbeck thought he could see a hint of a smile on Lovecraft’s face.
“...Thanks, Howard. I did too.”
With that, he left, closing the door behind him and hurrying back to his room.
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Lovecraft awoke to the sound of knocking on his door.
So tired.
He stayed in bed, unmoving until another knock sounded from his door, followed by a voice.
“Lovecraft? It's me. We need to get ready for the mission.”
With a deep groan, he got up and opened the door for Steinbeck.
He was already wearing the clothes provided to them for the mission. Lovecraft looked him up and down, Steinbeck shifting uncomfortably in place as he did so.
“It is too early,” Lovecraft complained, moving to the back of the room.
Steinbeck giggled. “Lovecraft, it’s 5pm. You’re just late.”
Lovecraft gave him a look before trudging over to his closet. Sure enough, a set of clothes matching Steinbeck’s were there. A tuxedo jacket, waistcoat, dress shirt, trousers, and a bow tie were all hung in the middle of the rack.
“Are you sure we have to wear this?” Lovecraft asked begrudgingly.
“Well, yeah. We’ll be caught out straight away if we don’t look the part.”
“But it looks so… itchy.”
“I promise you it’s not that bad. Plus, you only need to wear it for a few hours. You can manage that, right?”
“I suppose so.” Resigned to his fate, Lovecraft began to get changed.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he glanced over at Steinbeck, who was forcefully averting his eyes. Strange. He was usually very comfortable around him.
Every human he’d met before was always at least a little bit scared of him, but Steinbeck never seemed to be. From the day they’d met he'd been nothing but friendly, treating him as if he was just another regular person. Lovecraft was hesitant upon learning he’d be given a partner, but working with Steinbeck had quickly become far more enjoyable than working alone. He still liked his space, but he would sometimes catch himself thinking he’d prefer it if Steinbeck was there with him.
Being perceived by humans made his skin crawl, but for some reason Steinbeck was the exception. Maybe because he knew no judgement laid behind his often lingering stares.
“You don’t have to do that. We are friends. I don’t mind.”
“Huh?” Steinbeck’s head shot up. “Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.” He said, looking away once more, face burning red.
Lovecraft watched him for a second before turning back to the closet, continuing to get changed. The clothes were itchy, but he guessed there was no other choice. Once the bow tie was fastened, he closed the closet door.
“Does everything look correct?” Lovecraft questioned.
Finally looking at him again, Steinbeck examined his outfit, a small smile appearing on his face as he did so.
“Yeah! it's uh, it's good.”
“You sound unsure.”
“No! I mean it, I promise,” Steinbeck fumbled out. “It's just, uh, I'm worried your hair might draw attention to us.”
“Oh.”
He supposed that was true; a man with flowy, knee-length blue hair would definitely turn some heads.
“There isn’t a lot we can do with it, but at the very least I think we should tie it back. Do you want me to do it?” Steinbeck proposed.
“That would be nice, yes.”
“Alright, go sit down. Do you have a brush in here?”
Lovecraft opened the drawer of his nightstand and took out a brush. He rarely used it as it didn’t feel necessary. Any tangles he had would disappear once he changed forms.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he held the brush out and waited for Steinbeck to join him.
The mattress shifted as Steinbeck got behind him, taking the brush.
“I promise I know what I'm doing, my sisters always make me do their hair back home,” Steinbeck explained with a smile as he started brushing.
This was nice. He could tell Steinbeck was being as gentle as possible, taking his time instead of rushing to get it over with. He had never met kindness like Steinbeck’s before. In moments like this, he shone so brightly that it was almost blinding. Even so, Lovecraft couldn’t look away.
His darker moments were just as captivating. When on missions together, he saw a glimpse of the darkness he carried in the way he dealt with their victims. The light he exuded became eclipsed in a way that was profoundly entrancing.
Steinbeck continued brushing through his hair, gathering it into a low ponytail. He retrieved two hair ties from his pocket and began to secure it in place. After wrangling the ends through the elastic band, he gave it one last quick brush before sitting back and setting the hairbrush down.
“Alright, I'm done. Is it too tight? I can fix it if it is,” Steinbeck said.
“No, it feels fine.” Lovecraft stood up and went over to the mirror. He wasn’t used to seeing himself like this, but he was satisfied with how everything came together.
“Thank you, John. You are very kind.”
“Ah, I'm not so sure about that, but thank you anyway,” Steinbeck responded, scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze.
“I mean it, John. You show me compassion in ways others do not. I’m grateful for the time we spend together.”
He watched Steinbeck behind him through the mirror. It was hard to understand why Steinbeck couldn’t see the good parts of himself. The things the Guild had to do were violent, but his reasoning for joining in the first place was selfless. Lovecraft had never thought him to be a bad person.
“Well, I’m glad you think of me that way. I like spending time with you, too.”
Lovecraft turned around to look at him directly. He noticed a small smile on Steinbeck’s face. He smiled back.
Suddenly remembering what they were meant to be doing, Steinbeck got up.
“We should really be leaving soon. Is there anything else you need to do before we go?”
Lovecraft shook his head.
“Alright, let's get out of here.”
Steinbeck led the way out of the room and they headed outside.
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Standing together at the edge of the room, they observed the crowd of people in search of their target. The room was decorated extravagantly; crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting a dim light over the space. Two ornate staircases spiraled up to a balcony that overlooked the ballroom. As he looked around, Steinbeck became extremely conscious of how out of place he felt here.
Getting into the venue had been easy enough – once outside, they slipped around the back and Steinbeck used his vines to create a rope so they could climb in through the second floor window. After entering, they simply made their way downstairs and entered the ball through the side door. The security was surprisingly lax for an event like this. The organisers would soon regret not being more careful.
The banquet had just ended, which meant the dancing would begin soon. This interval was the ideal time to carry out the hit, so they had to work fast.
Glancing towards the front of the room, Steinbeck scanned the area until he finally spotted the man they were here to kill. He stood amongst a few other people, chatting and drinking a glass of champagne.
“He’s there. Near the front right corner,” Steinbeck said, gesturing with a nod.
Lovecraft spotted the man and began watching him intently.
“Stop looking at him like that, he’ll see you,” Steinbeck chided. “I’ll keep an eye on him, just focus on acting normal.”
“...I fear it’s no use. I’m trying to blend in, but people keep looking at me…” Lovecraft grumbled.
“I’m sure they’re not looking nearly as much as you think they are,” Steinbeck said, attempting to console him. “And if they are, it’s probably just because you’re tall. Not many guys of your height ‘round here. Don’t worry about it too much.”
Still feeling unsettled, Lovecraft slouched his shoulders in an attempt to appear smaller.
Steinbeck continued talking, trying to distract Lovecraft from his discomfort.
“There’s about ten minutes until the dancing starts. All we need to do for now is wait until he makes a move,” He explained.
Fitzgerald had gathered all the information he could on the man and gave it to Louisa, who then came up with the plan. He had medication that was to be taken regularly throughout the day, and he always retreated to the bathroom to take it when out in public. They were to wait for the man to leave, follow him out, then ambush him.
As well as watching the man, Steinbeck had been keeping an eye on the main door, making sure every man who left came back. It’d be a problem if the bathroom wasn’t empty when they got there.
“He’ll probably leave slightly earlier than usual so he’s back in time for the dance, which means we should be able to avoid participating ourselves.”
“So… itchy…” Lovecraft complained, only partially focused on what Steinbeck was saying.
“I know, Lovecraft. We won’t be here much longer though, so just endure it for now. Once we’re done, we can-”
Steinbeck cut himself off when he noticed their target making his way towards the door.
“He’s moving. C’mon, let's go.”
Following the man out of the main hall, they maintained a safe distance as they watched him enter the bathroom. Steinbeck glanced up and locked eyes with a security camera. The camera stared back at him, its red light flashing periodically. The police would watch this footage later, scrambling around their office desperately trying to locate the two, but it would be no use; by that point the Guild would have long since fled the country.
Once they reached the door, Lovecraft could sense the man’s movements through the wall. After a few seconds, Lovecraft silently nodded and the two casually entered the bathroom. They stood at the sink opposite the man’s stall, letting the tap run so the man didn’t immediately become suspicious of them.
After what felt like an eternity, the latch to the stall door clicked and the man began making his way out. Quickly, Lovecraft shot tentacles from his right hand and restrained him. The man struggled uselessly as Lovecraft tightened his grip, making sure to cover his mouth so he couldn’t scream.
Usually they (mostly Steinbeck) would taunt their victims, talking to them extensively before ending their lives, but they could not afford that luxury today. They needed to be out of there right away to ensure they weren’t around when the body was found. Taking out his pen knife, Steinbeck made a small incision on his neck and pushed a seed into the wound. The vine sprouted, extending towards the man and coiling tightly around his neck. They both watched as the man lost consciousness, going limp in Lovecraft’s grasp.
At least, Steinbeck thought they were both watching. When he actually glanced up at Lovecraft, he realised his gaze had been fixed on him the whole time. Looking into his eyes like this made his face heat up. Why is he even staring at me right now?
“Uh… I think he’s dead. You can let go of him now,” Steinbeck stated, turning away to avoid meeting his eyes.
“...Sorry,” Lovecraft said, lingering on Steinbeck for a second before retracting his tentacles.
After a moment of awkward silence, Lovecraft spoke up.
“You should… remove your vines as well then.”
Steinbeck had been so distracted that he hadn’t realised his ability was still active.
“Ah, yeah, you’re right.” He withdrew his vines and shoved his knife back in his pocket. “Alright, I think everything’s taken care of, so we can just-”
“Wait.” Lovecraft interrupted, motioning for Steinbeck to be quiet.
They stood still for a second, Lovecraft focused on the bathroom door. Steinbeck couldn’t hear anything, and his puzzled glance towards Lovecraft went ignored. Suddenly, Lovecraft grabbed his arm and yanked him into the nearest stall, shoving him to the back wall and closing the door.
“Hey, wha?!-”
“Quiet,” Lovecraft commanded, covering Steinbeck’s mouth with his hand. His other hand gripped Steinbeck’s shoulder, pinning him to the farthest corner of the stall. What the fuck? Steinbeck could feel his cheeks rapidly heating up. Lovecraft wasn’t looking at him, but there’s no way he couldn’t feel Steinbeck’s burning face under his palm. What is he doing?
Before it could even occur to him to protest, the bathroom door swung open.
They heard footsteps approaching from outside the stall. Then, a deafening scream rang out and their unwanted guest fled back down the hallway.
“We should go,” Lovecraft declared, letting go of Steinbeck. The absence of his touch finally brought Steinbeck back to his senses. Together, they exited the bathroom and ran down the hallway, climbing back out through the same window they used to break in.
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On the drive back, they both discarded their uncomfortable jackets and ties in the backseat of the car. Lovecraft rarely saw Steinbeck in clothes like this, so he couldn’t help but stare. Sometimes it felt like that was all he did whenever the other man was around.
The emotions he felt while in his human form were vastly different from what he was used to. The physical sensations in his chest that accompanied each feeling were strange, but Lovecraft thought he could differentiate them well enough by now. Except for whatever he felt when he was around Steinbeck. He couldn’t understand why being around him made him so… nervous? Warm? Afraid? Lovecraft really couldn’t place what he was feeling. Snapping out of his thoughts, he noticed Steinbeck’s odd expression.
“You seem upset,” Lovecraft stated plainly.
“Huh? I do?” Steinbeck responded, chuckling half-heartedly. “It’s nothing, really. Don’t worry about me.”
“Do you… feel bad about what we just did?”
“Of course not,” Steinbeck swallowed, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. “Work is work. Doesn’t bother me.”
Lovecraft could tell that it did bother him, but it seemed like something else was weighing heavier on his mind.
“But you are clearly troubled by something. Please tell me, John.”
Steinbeck’s eyes flicked over to Lovecraft for a second upon hearing his first name. He let out a deep sigh and continued speaking.
“You… were very protective of me back there.”
“Of course. You are my partner.”
“Partner…” Steinbeck repeated quietly.
“Hmm? Are we… not partners?”
“No, yeah, we are, it’s just– never mind. You should focus more on yourself, y’know. It’d be bad if we botched the mission ‘cause you were too busy… staring at me.”
Ah. So he had noticed.
Lovecraft’s staring problem did tend to get worse when Steinbeck used his ability. The manner in which his vines danced was entrancing and the look of determination that occupied his face was… not something Lovecraft could easily describe. The way his mouth bent into a slight frown, with his brows furrowed and gaze sharp. Lovecraft pictured this face in his mind, considering several words before landing on… pretty. A rather basic word, not one he’d ever really used to describe a human before, but it felt right.
Thinking deeper about the word, a thought occurred to him: didn’t people in romantic relationships often use that word to describe each other? Lovecraft jerked his head up, startled by the sudden thought. Steinbeck eyed him curiously.
“You okay?” Steinbeck asked
“Yes. I am fine. There is nothing to worry about,” Lovecraft answered, trying to keep his tone stable.
“Alright, if you say so. Just keep in mind what I said, okay?”
All Lovecraft could manage was a nod before turning his head to stare out the window. The lights of the city flashed by as he became immersed in his thoughts.
Pretty. Relationships… Love. Was that what this was? The feeling he’d been struggling to identify since the day he met Steinbeck? Love? Memories of their time together flashed in his mind. Of course. It all made so much more sense now. Love was so unknown to him that he’d never even considered it an option. After innumerable years spent comfortably alone, he was sure he was incapable of feeling such a thing. Even so, he couldn’t deny this new revelation.
Where does he even go from here? It’s one thing for him to realise he’s in love with Steinbeck, but there’s no guarantee his partner feels the same. Would any human truly be capable of loving a creature like Lovecraft? In the unlikely event that they did, it could never last. Lovecraft belongs to the sea, and even the longest human life could not match his immortality. Steinbeck was far too good for him. Fate was actively conspiring against them. It would never work.
Yet he so desperately wanted it to.
His partner was… wait, partner? What had Steinbeck said just a moment ago? After Lovecraft referred to him as his partner, he repeated the word quietly and brushed off Lovecraft’s attempt to question him. Why was that? Was he dissatisfied with that label? The newly identified light feeling in his chest was overpowered by a heavy, familiar one – dread.
As far as Lovecraft could remember, Steinbeck rarely ever called him his partner, despite Lovecraft frequently referring to Steinbeck that way. If he was bothered by that label, Lovecraft wanted to address it now. He turned to his left and cautiously started speaking.
“Are you… okay with us being called partners?”
“What?” Steinbeck said, taken aback. “Y-yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be? Why’d you ask anyways?”
“You’ve just never seemed satisfied with the label.”
“No, it’s fine. I don't mind us being called partners, but…” Steinbeck trailed off, only the hum of the engine saving them from complete silence.
“But what?”
“Nevermind. It's really not that important. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“I can stop using it if you’d like.”
“I said it’s fine, Lovecraft, really. You can call me your partner. It’s not a huge deal.”
Steinbeck was refusing to look at him. He didn't want this discussion to spark an argument, but this issue would definitely resurface if they left it unsettled now.
“It is if you are this upset over it. If you don’t like it I will stop. There’s no need to put up with it for my sake.”
“It’s not that I don't like it, it’s just…”
“Hm?”
“…it’s not something I can easily explain.”
“I’m listening if you would like to try.”
“Okay, well…” Steinbeck exhaled sharply “Let’s get back first.”
They finished the drive back to base and parked about a block away from where the Moby Dick was docked. Steinbeck unfastened his seatbelt. He leant his head against the window, resting his arm on the ledge with his hand on his cheek. Lovecraft unfastened his seatbelt too, keeping his eyes fixed on Steinbeck. The air in the car was tense. Lovecraft was nervous. He could sense that Steinbeck was too, possibly even more than him.
Hesitantly, Steinbeck began speaking.
“You’re right, I don't like when I’m called your partner. But it’s not ‘cause I hate you or anything. I don’t think there’s a world where that’s possible,” Steinbeck confessed with a faint smile. Lovecraft could see a soft blush forming on the small section of his face visible to him. “It’s really the opposite. I… it only bothers me because it’s… not enough. I don’t want to be just your partner, Lovecraft.”
At long last, Steinbeck turned to face him. Lovecraft stared deeply into his eyes, searching for a hint as to what he was trying to say. ‘Just your partner?’
“Every day I wonder what it would be like if you felt the way I do. God, I don't even know if you're capable of having feelings like this.” Steinbeck laughed cynically to himself. “Whether you can or not, I have to tell you this now. You deserve to know.”
“John, what are you saying?”
At the use of his first name, Steinbeck’s face burned darker. He could no longer look Lovecraft in the eyes.
“You treat me better than anyone I’ve ever known. Meeting you is possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to me… words could never explain how much I love you,” Steinbeck sighed like a weight had been lifted off his chest. “It must be strange, right? Knowing a human feels this way about you. I really can’t help it though. I’ve never met anyone else as beautiful as you, Howard. I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I can’t keep lying to myself.”
It took a second for Lovecraft to fully process everything Steinbeck had said. Did he hear that correctly? Love? How long had he felt this way? Been hiding this from him? Thinking back, he was able to recall multiple instances where Steinbeck had blushed in response to Lovecraft doing something he perceived as friendly. Every time, he’d rush to change the subject, sometimes even leaving the room completely. In hindsight, his attempts at concealing his feelings were poor. He was lucky Lovecraft was so oblivious.
“John… you must know how foolish it is to care for a creature like me.”
“...Of course I do.” Steinbeck lowered his head like a neglected dog.
“And you understand that any relationship I form with a human is not destined to last.”
“Yeah, I know…”
“Do you accept my affection regardless?”
“Yea- wait, what?”
Lovecraft reached out and took one of Steinbeck's hands into his own. His other hand moved upwards, gently holding Steinbeck’s jaw so he couldn’t turn away.
“I love you too, John. I understand that now. The feeling has been with me ever since I met you. Even when others reacted with hostility, you always greeted me warmly. You are so much kinder than you think yourself to be. I truly couldn’t have asked for a better partner.”
“Are you serious?”
“Of course. I’ve never cared for another human the way I care about you.”
Steinbeck extended his hand, placing it delicately on Lovecraft’s face. Before Lovecraft could react, Steinbeck leaned forward and kissed him. He’d never been kissed before, so it took a moment before he was able to adjust and reciprocate the gesture. Steinbeck’s lips were soft against his own, and he could feel Steinbeck’s heightened pulse beneath his touch. The feeling was exhilarating, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. He would have stayed there forever, but Steinbeck pulled away, catching his breath.
They both retracted their hands and stared at each other, eyes sparkling.
“You have no idea how long I've waited to do that,” Confessed Steinbeck.
“I think. I could take a guess.”
Steinbeck laughed, light and bubbly, in response. Lovecraft thought it was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard.
“Come on, let’s head back inside. I can help you take down your hair if you’d like?” Steinbeck proposed.
“I would like that. Thank you.”
Together, they got out of the car and made their way back to the ship. The looming figure of the Moby Dick soon came into view.
“You know..” Lovecraft started.
“Yeah?” Prompted Steinbeck.
“It is a shame that we did not get to dance together. Even though we practiced.”
“We can practice again whenever you want. Who knows, maybe we’ll get another mission like this someday.”
“Perhaps.”
Lovecraft reached down and took hold of Steinbeck’s hand once again. Steinbeck smiled up at him and the two continued walking.