Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

     YURI.

     Steve remembered making fun of this particular poster the second time he saw it. At first glance, it was just a man standing amongst the stars. Upon searching the internet… Well, he wasn’t quick to realise that Eli’s interests extended beyond Japanese culture to Russian cosmonauts.

     Eli’s room was full of little things like this -- obscure or strange interests that Steve would deride, but as their friendship developed, he would come to understand. A lot. In great detail. So much detail. Like, one jab at Eli’s hobbies could transform a five minute phone call into a multi-hour lecture, or e-mail, or “why don’t you just watch the show with me?”.

     And yet, he listened. He let himself become entangled.

     Much of what Steve used to ridicule became something he would come to fondly appreciate. Which is to say, he knew exactly why he was alone in Eli’s room searching for something while Eli was out there, not unlike Yuri Gagarin, amongst the stars.

     And then Steve found it, nestled behind some thumb-tacked photos on Eli’s conspiracy board: a piece of paper messily torn from a notebook. 

     Smiling, his eyes darted to the longer list of asterisks at the bottom:

     Relieved, he sat on Eli’s bed. He missed him a lot. Looking around the room, he felt melancholy swiftly take hold of him. Fondness soon followed. And sooner, regret. 

     Eli had made first contact. Interstellar communication was hard, yet made harder when you had to talk to your girlfriend through a communicator that only her brother had. 

     Well, ex-girlfriend. He was thankful that Krel left the room for that conversation. 

     Soon after that, he didn’t feel inclined to sit in his ex-girlfriend’s brother’s room to talk to his best friend who was on a planet far away with said ex-girlfriend -- and after about two months of ignoring messages from his ex-girlfriend’s brother about his best friend… Well, Eli made last contact, too. 

     But Mrs. Pepperjack didn’t know that. She was happy to let him into Eli’s room, happier that he visited at all, and happiest to tell him that Eli would be coming back in a few days. Steve, of course, knew this. He got the “eli’s back next month” message from Krel, which coincided with an e-mail from his aunt inquiring if he wanted “an upgrade from his Vespa,” which led to finally acknowledging Eli’s messages after 3 months and hastily replying to his aunt of newfound fortune and honorific. (Which is to say, his aunt was overjoyed at her return to Ms. Warner after three dreadful years of being Mrs. Jorgensen.) 

     And now, he sits on Eli’s bed, just a few days until he returns. He runs his finger against the coarse tear of the bucket list, imagining how excited Eli was while making it. He never saw it until now -- he remembers how his eyes shone when talking about all the fun they’d have before senior year. Steve lies down and absentmindedly nestles his face in Eli’s pillow. A whole year later, even in his absence, the pillow still smelt of him. He recalls the way Eli’s lips warmly stretch into an uneven grin, reminiscing about all the times they made each other smile. He remembers Eli’s discordant laugh whenever Steve made a dumb joke. He recounts the way Eli would gently shove him whenever Steve teased him. He realises, not for the first time, how much he appreciates Eli, and quickly folds up the paper lest he realise something else.

     He knows how excited he was to see Eli again -- eyes, lips, and all -- yet he couldn’t bring himself to accept Mrs. Pepperjack’s invitation to Eli’s homecoming party.