"spence?"
"hm?"
"when did you get home?"
a more awake you would be squealing, thoroughly excited he came home early from his trip, but the early hours have hardly begun to bring light and you're struggling to even open your eyes to look at him. your cheeks still widen into a pleased smile though, turning into his warmth and humming, confused, when your hands find the rough fabric of his coat.
"a few hours ago," he says, voice rough, eyes still shut. one arm across his eyes, blocking the minuscule light, the other a vice around your waist. his voice is slow, deep in his chest, caught on the sleep he obviously wishes to keep. but he still turns his face toward the sound of your voice, smile creeping up at the corners of his lips, willing to entertain you despite his fatigue.
"are you still wearing your shoes?" you ask, voice teasing, scooting up in his arm to nudge your nose against the curve of his jaw. you press a kiss there, the point where his bone hits a right angle, lips tingling from the stubble you find.
"no," he says, voice honest, "i know better than that."
"no shoes, but your belt is still on?" you tease, fingers dragging across the leather. you don't care, not beyond a genuine concern for his comfort, but you enjoy teasing him in this way, skimming your lips across the rough skin of his chin in not-quite kisses.
"i took my gun off," he complains in a half-hearted groan, lifting his arm to peek at you out of the corner of one eye. "hi," he says, voice still soft, somehow deeper with affection, dimples the star of the show on his cheeks.
"hi," you say, tilting your head back and lifting your arm to cart your fingers through his mess of hair. "welcome home."
he smiles, reaching around with his other arm to gather you up and drag you across his chest in a bear hug, chuckling at the squeal you let out, sighing against your hair. he presses a firm kiss there, right above your ear.
"we will have to wash the sheets, though. it was really gross for me to not change, i was just exhausted, sorry."
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He should probably get a new car.
He didn’t want to. He loved his car, but it wasn’t really cool, was it? Preppy cool, maybe, but not my-boyfriend-is-in-a-metal-band cool. It had certainly seen better days too.
He’d used to reprimand the kids whenever they trailed in dirt and food crumbs or spilled their milkshakes or whatever, but after he stopped doing the same to Eddie, he couldn’t really do it to them either. Besides, he didn’t want to be a stick in the mud.
It was why he’d thrown out all his Wham! and Tears for Fears cassettes, threw out anything that wasn’t Judas Priest or Iron Maiden or whatever else Eddie liked. It was why he boxed away all his brightly colored polos and now just wore the band tees that Eddie let him borrow, why he’d bought some of his own, as well as skinnier dark jeans that he knew Eddie liked the look of his ass in. He even got some bracelets like Eddie’s, and now he actually looked the part of Eddie’s boyfriend and not so much like a sore thumb when he went to all of Eddie’s shows.
The only thing he needed to change, besides his car, was his hair. He’d been putting it off the longest. He loved his car, but he loved his hair more. He didn’t make it quite as styled nowadays, but it was the last part of him that spoke of his former personality. Because he had to change, didn’t he? He knew what happened when you didn’t make your partner happy. Knew what happened when your love was bullshit and he never wanted Eddie to find him unworthy.
So he liked the things Eddie liked now, he dressed the way Eddie dressed, and he did what Eddie did. If he made Eddie happy, if he didn’t make Eddie do anything he didn’t want to do, then Eddie wouldn’t find fault in Steve. It was simple as that. He knew better now. Because Nancy had broke his heart, but losing Eddie? It would break his soul.
So he needed a new car. Maybe a van like Eddie’s, or would that be too much? A BMW was hardly metal, after all. He needed something cooler. And then…then he would change his hair.
He would need to figure out what Eddie thought was cool. Needed to figure out what Eddie liked. Should he buzz it? Should he grow it out? He didn’t know. Eddie had never brought up hair before. He didn’t know what Eddie would prefer. Maybe he could ask Jeff. He’d known Eddie the longest, after all.
Maybe he should dye it. That would look cool, right?
The others had noticed, of course. They’d commented on his new attire, the fact that he didn’t listen to his favorite music anymore, that he only seemed to be doing what Eddie wanted to do nowadays. But Eddie just looked happy whenever Steve agreed to whatever movie Eddie wanted to watch, or what to have for dinner, or what to do on Steve’s days off. That was the important part: making Eddie happy.
So Steve just brushed off their concerns, explained it away as saying that he was growing up and his interests were growing. He even played stupid Dungeons and Dragons now, always making certain he got the names correct, always doing his best to play it how Eddie would want him to play it, even if it always gave him a headache afterwards with all the numbers and words and strategizing.
He always put Eddie’s needs first, be it physically, emotionally, or even just recreationally. If Steve did that, if he was good enough, if he became exactly what his partner wanted, maybe he wouldn’t lose this. Wouldn’t lose Eddie.
Maybe, if Steve made his love good enough, Eddie wouldn’t ever say it was bullshit.
-
Now with a part two
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Coming out from Spencer's shower to find him sitting in the living room watching some documentary.
Walking around him to ruffle his hair before walking across him to take a seat next to him, but he grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap.
So you're cuddling him, back to chest, as he continues to watch his documentary. It's in a foreign language so you don't understand it, but that's okay because you're not interested anyway.
Taking Spencer's hand in yours and massaging his palms, tracing the lines on his hands, toying with his fingers lightly. You plant a gentle kiss on his palm and he closes his fingers in a fist, trapping your fingers in his hand.
He brings your hand to his face and returns the kiss on your hand as you turn to face him. Another kiss lands on your forehead, then on the bridge of your nose and finally he tilts your chin up to peck your lips.
He kisses you again and rests his forehead against yours. Both of your eyes are locked in on each others and the look you share is so domestic, so in love.
His gaze is so intense it causes genuine butterflies in your belly and goosebumps form on your skin. You can't hold back a smile. He has that same smile and it makes you shy. You break eye contact and bury your head in his neck, pulling him in a hug.
It makes him laugh and he wraps his arms around you, planting more kisses on the side of your head. He shifts too fast for you to comprehend, laying you down on the couch and sitting up.
You whine and try to hug him again but he grabs your hands, pinning them to the side of your head as he hovers above you and kisses your cheek.
"I want to see you." His voice is playful, but his eyes are begging you.
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