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steddieworks · 2 years ago

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finally safe for me to fall - chapter 5

hi!! I am so so sorry for the late update, but with some personal issues going on I haven't had time to post this weekend. Hopefully the chapter is good enough to make up for that!!

read on ao3

Summary: Eddie learns some more things about being a parent. He and Steve get closer.

Warnings for this chapter: Swearing, very minor cooking accident (not very descriptive and no blood)

Words: 7.3k

Somehow, miraculously, Eddie makes it through his first week of being the Harrington nanny.

It’s not without some minor hiccups and one minor meltdown, but if he’s doing the addition and subtraction correctly, he’s still pretty sure they’re on the positive side of the equation. The girls seem to really like him, Steve seems to really like him, though not in the way Eddie is quickly realizing he craves. But Steve is kind, patient, and helpful, and Eddie is so, so grateful that he was able to find a job where he can do what he’s always wanted to do, with a built-in support system he never thought he’d have.

On his first Friday with them, Steve comes home from work early.

Well, early for Steve. The first few days, Eddie had noticed that Steve does push that whole “home-by-five” schtick, sometimes staying till half-past, arriving home at six, and one night he didn’t trudge through the door until seven. Eddie still doesn’t quite understand what it is Steve does, but whatever it is really takes all the energy out of him.

But Fridays seem to be meaningful in the Harrington house.

Steve makes it in around half-past four, while the girls are finishing up their homework at the bar after having some sliced bananas and blueberries as a snack. The click of the door closing makes both of them perk up, their heads snapping up to face the sound. Eddie rolls his eyes, but smiles, nodding to the door.

“Daddy!” The twins call excitedly as they scramble down from the bar stools, running to meet their father at the door. This was somewhat of a routine for them by now. Eddie had noticed even on Monday that the twins craved time with their father, so much so that they couldn’t even imagine giving the man a moment to breathe before they were flocking to him.

“Hi, my sweet girls,” Steve says, his voice warm with his usual greeting. Eddie grins down at the peppers he’s chopping. The domesticity, the family of it all, filled him with a joy unlike anything else he’d ever experienced.

The twins immediately begin entertaining Steve with stories about their day, and Eddie looks up at him with a smile when he manages to make it to the kitchen, each of them practically hanging off of him. He sets his lunchbox on the counter, hangs his messenger bag on the hook by the fridge, then comes around the counter to greet Eddie.

This is what Eddie, with his sad little heart, and his pathetic desires, looks forward to every day.

Steve, coming around the counter, placing a gentle hand on Eddie’s lower back, and murmuring a warm hello before asking about his day.

He does this now, reminding the girls to put away their schoolwork if they’re finished (they’re not) before his warm, large hand settles in the spot just a couple inches above Eddie’s ass, smiling at him sweetly. “Hey, hon,” he says, as if the word doesn’t set Eddie on fire, make him want things he can’t ask for. “Did you have a good day?”

Eddie nods, just as he does every day, pretending that he’s very focused on his vegetable chopping. “It was good. I went grocery shopping while the girls were at school. I bought you more graham crackers.”

Steve grins, like this is the best news he’s heard all day, and Eddie melts. “Thank you,” he says, sincerely. “What’re you making for dinner? Do you need any help?”

As usual, Eddie wants to scoff at the offer, but he forces himself to smile instead. “Roasted pork and grilled veggies,” he says, gesturing to the peppers. “And I’ll make some macaroni and cheese for the girls.”

“I can chop?” Steve offers, noting, as always, the lack of acknowledgement his previous offer of help received.

Eddie shakes his head. “No, I’ve got it. You’ve been at work. Go change clothes, lie down, whatever you need to do.”

Steve sighs, just like he always does. “I had a shorter day today, I can help,” he insists.

“Eddie, can you help me with this problem?” Ivy asks from across the bar, frowning down at her math homework.

Eddie grins at Steve, gesturing at his daughter with the knife in his hand. “Help them finish up? And then I’ll see if I can put you to work.”

Steve grins, but there’s a dusting of pink across his cheekbones. “Alright,” he says, easy, as if he doesn’t mind Eddie’s little bossy tone in the slightest.

The twins alternate between asking Steve for help and telling him about their day at school, occasionally stopping to say, “oh, Eddie, I forgot to tell you-” which sort of warms Eddie’s whole heart.

Eddie tries not to be too nosy, but he can’t help but glance up at them frequently, smiling down at the food he’s preparing as he sees how sweet Steve is with them. “Alright, girls. Go put your backpacks in your room and clean up in there, okay? I saw how it looked last night, and we’re not going anywhere fun tomorrow if you don’t have that room clean, got it?” Steve says, wagging a finger at them.

They giggle a bit, but agree, clamoring off their bar stools and making their way to their bedroom to do what they’re told.

Steve sighs, turns to look at Eddie, smiles. “Right. What can I do to help?” He asks, clapping his hands together expectantly.

Eddie grins. “I’ve got almost everything done, actually,” he says, taking the pot of boiling macaroni noodles off the stove, moving to the sink to drain them. “The vegetables are in the oven, but- oh! Fu-dammit!” He can’t help the swear, the outburst. Because somehow, his fucking feet trip over the nothingness beneath them, and sends him stumbling against the counter, boiling water splashing all down the front of him.

“Shit,” Steve says, his voice an octave or two higher and louder than it normally is. He swoops in with far more grace and speed than Eddie probably would, if the situations were reversed. He grabs the pot, setting it off to the side, and grabs the bottom of Eddie’s shirt, pulling it away from his stomach. There’s panic in his voice, and in his eyes, as he asks, “Eddie, are you okay?”

“I- I think so?” Eddie says, shaky. He gingerly takes the material out of Steve’s hand, tugging it up to look at the damage. His stomach is red, and probably blistered. Great.

“I’ll go get you a clean shirt,” Steve offers immediately, moving away to do just that.

Eddie flushes, this time from sheer embarrassment and not the heat of the boiling water. “Actually, uh-” he starts, Steve pausing in his tracks to look at him expectantly. “I don’t, um… I don’t have any other clean shirts.” He feels stupid when he says it.

“What?” Steve asks, furrowing his brows.

“I- I was going to do laundry tomorrow! But… I only have like four or five shirts, and I’ve worn those this week, so… it’s fine, really. It’ll dry.” He shrugs, like the idea of hanging out in this sopping wet shirt for the rest of the evening doesn’t bother him in the slightest. Going to bed won’t be a problem, as he sleeps shirtless most of the time anyway, but he knows it’ll be annoying to sit around in this shirt until then.

“Oh,” Steve says. He looks bothered, but in a pitying kind of way. Eddie looks away. “Alright, then let me go grab one of mine,” he says it so simply, like that’s a normal thing to offer.

Eddie’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull. “Uh, no, that’s okay,” he tries, trailing after Steve, like a little lost puppy.

“Nonsense,” Steve says, waving his hand. “You can’t just sit around wearing that all evening.”

Eddie wants to argue, really he does. If not for the embarrassment, then at least to maintain some semblance of professionalism, but he can’t even seem to manage that. “Okay,” he says finally, standing in the middle of Steve’s room awkwardly as the other man searches his dresser for a shirt.

“Here,” Steve says, walking over and holding out a dark green piece of fabric. Eddie eyes it suspiciously. Steve laughs. “I know it’s not your typical color scheme, but I promise it’s not gonna bite you.”

Eddie takes it, albeit distrustfully, unfolding it to see that it’s a sweatshirt for East Hawkins Community College. He snorts. “I didn’t know you were from Hawkins,” he says, lightly. He’s trying to remember, suddenly, if he knew Steve back then. He was certain he couldn’t forget a face like that.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not. Er, well… I went to elementary school there, but then when my parents… anyway. I was in a boarding school a couple hours away from Hawkins, but I went back for college.” He looks uncomfortable now.

“Oh,” Eddie says. He’s curious now, since this is probably the most information Steve has volunteered about his background since he started working for him, but he can tell it’s not something he is keen on sharing. Eddie gestures to the bathroom, awkwardly. “I’ll go, uh-”

He steps into the bathroom, and has just pulled the ruined shirt over his head when he hears Steve’s voice behind him, far too close to still be in the other room. Eddie can’t help the way he jumps and instinctively uses the fresh shirt in an attempt to hide his body.

Steve gives him a soft look. “Let me see the burn?” he says, voice gentle. “I just want to make sure you don’t need to go to the hospital or anything.”

Eddie tries to laugh that off, but his voice shakes as Steve steps closer, gently brushing Eddie’s fabric shield away. “It’s really not that bad,” he says, faintly.

“Well,” Steve says, ducking his head and brushing his fingers lightly over the burn. Eddie can’t help the small hiss that escapes his mouth at the faint touch. Steve glances up at his eyes and tsks. “Not that bad, huh?” he says, voice sort of disbelieving, but free of the condescension that would usually follow a statement like that.

Eddie gives him a pained little smile. “Okay, it hurts a bit,” he admits.

Steve nods, then steps towards the sink, reaching for the medicine cabinet that sits above it. “I bet. It doesn’t look great, hon. Is it okay if I put some antibacterial ointment on it?” His voice is so gentle, and caring, and fuck, Eddie couldn’t tell him no even if he wanted to.

“Sure,” he says. He goes to stand closer to Steve, leaning back against the counter, the t-shirt held in his limp hand.

Eddie watches as Steve carefully uncaps the ointment, squeezes out a small dollop, then steps into his space. He’s a bit taller than Eddie, so he has to lean down a bit to get a better look at what he’s doing, and Eddie has to pretend like he’s not holding his breath. “It might be cold,” he warns, just a second before he presses the medicine gently to the burn.

Eddie hisses. “Sorry,” he says quickly. “It doesn’t really- just caught me off-guard, that’s all.”

Steve nods, but Eddie notices how he immediately gentles his movements. “This ointment is good for any kind of cuts, scrapes, burns. I keep a tube in here, and a tube in the girls’ bathroom as well, if you ever need it,” Steve explains quietly, his eyebrows furrowed in focus as he spreads the ointment around.

“Okay,” Eddie says, feeling a little lightheaded. He recognizes, vaguely, that something about this is sort of exciting. He’s not sure if it’s the closeness, the anomaly of it all, or just the fact that for once he has all of Steve’s attention, just on him, but either way - it does something to him.

Something that apparently doesn’t go unnoticed. As Steve goes to recap the bottle, his nostrils flare a little, and he stills, his eyes wide when they glance at Eddie.

Eddie flushes. God fucking damn his stupid omega scent and his stupid hormones and -

“Eddie,” Steve says, his voice breathy.

“Uh, thanks,” Eddie says, speaking too loud for the close space they’re sharing. He steps away from Steve quickly, pulling the sweatshirt over his head and making his way to the door. “I’ll, um… wash your sweatshirt tomorrow and put it back,” he says. He’s not sure why he thinks escaping this room is the solution; this is Steve’s house and they’re about to eat dinner - naturally, he’s just going to follow him.

“Hon,” Steve tries again, an odd look on his face as he steps closer to Eddie.

Eddie spins on his heel. “I need to go finish dinner and tell the girls it’s time to eat.”

He leaves Steve standing there, and breathes a sigh of relief when the girls come into the kitchen only a few seconds after he’s made it there himself, pulling the food out of the oven like he’d never left his place. “Dinner is almost ready, girls,” Eddie says, faking a cheerful tone he doesn’t actually feel. His hands shake when he places the pan down.

The twins are babbling about some movie they want to watch, and Eddie pretends he doesn’t notice it when Steve comes into the room. He also pretends he doesn’t notice the slight shift in his scent. He can’t notice that, he really can’t. Eddie cobbles together the macaroni and cheese quickly while Steve goes to fetch the plates and glasses out of the cabinet. It’s tense, and Eddie pretends like he doesn’t notice that either.

“Here,” Steve says quietly from Eddie’s side, holding a plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other. “I’ll make one plate, you make the other?” he asks, avoiding direct eye contact.

Eddie nods, tries to hold his breath when he passes behind Steve to grab another plate, desperate to ignore the way Steve’s scent has shifted into something completely fucking irresistable. They work in tandem, preparing each of the girls’ dinners, and as Steve is setting the girls’ utensils out, Eddie numbly goes about preparing Steve’s plate, careful to pick out the onions as he scoops up vegetables. He does it on autopilot, having already committed this particular quirk of Steve’s to memory, even within the short period of time he’s been there. When he turns to hand it to Steve, there’s a soft look of surprise on the other man’s face.

“Oh. Did you-” he starts, glancing at the food.

“Yeah, I left the onions out,” Eddie says with a little shrug, trying to avoid the way Steve stares at him, grabbing his own plate.

He jumps a little when Steve reaches out and squeezes his bicep gently. “Thank you,” he says softly, rubbing the spot his hand is resting on. Eddie can’t help but glance at him then, and Steve gives him a sweet, genuine smile. “For remembering that,” he adds before stepping away.

Eddie shifts his gaze to stare down at his robotic movements as he scoops food into his own plate. “Of course,” he mumbles, mostly to himself. He still feels unsettled, raw from the weirdly intimate… interaction they’d had only a few minutes prior. He feels like it’s written all over his face, the way he’s aching for something he can never have, and wearing something so distinctly Steve’s isn’t helping matters any.

He sits at the opposite end of the bar from Steve, like they usually do, the twins sitting in between them. Ivy is closest to her father and Jasmine is closest to Eddie, and secretly, Eddie’s relieved. Jasmine may notice just as much as her sister, but she certainly doesn’t loudly ask questions like Ivy is prone to.

Or at least, Eddie thought.

“Daddy has a shirt just like that,” Jasmine says to Eddie halfway through dinner, Ivy telling Steve about a pair of shoes she wants at the other end of the bar.

Eddie hopes and prays that Steve doesn’t hear her comment, but when he sneaks a glance over at him, it’s clear that he has. And not only has he apparently heard it - the fucker smiles. It’s not a smirk; there’s no malice in it, it’s just a soft twitch of his lips as he meets Eddie’s gaze.

“Yeah?” Eddie says, his mouth dry as he forces his gaze away from Steve. He’s not even sure what to say to that, or how to recover.

Luckily, despite whatever tension Eddie feels is suffocating the two of them from all sides, Steve doesn’t leave him hanging. Instead of remarking on the shirt in any way, he asks the girls what they want for dessert, the easy distraction giving Eddie a little room to breathe. He can’t help but peek over at Steve again, offering him a weak, grateful smile when Steve catches his eye.

“How about you guys go pick a movie while Eddie and I get some cookies and milk ready, yeah?” Steve says to the girls once everyone is finished eating, Eddie already standing to collect the plates.

“Can we watch-” Jasmine starts immediately. She doesn’t get very far before Ivy is speaking over her, and Eddie can’t help but smile at them, shaking his head.

“Ah! Nope, go, go pick out a movie. You have to agree on it, okay?” Steve says, all but shooing them off into the living room as he begins to help Eddie clear the table.

The twins skip off into the living room to argue some more, and Eddie deflates a little. That lasts all of two seconds before Steve is stepping into his space to place some dishes in the sink, and then Eddie is going rigid again, desperately hoping that his scent is under control now.

“Hey,” Steve says, watching Eddie run water over the dishes. “You wash, I’ll dry?” he asks softly.

Eddie nods silently.

They stand there together for a few minutes as Eddie lets the water run hot, grabbing the dish soap and a sponge and getting to work scrubbing the plates. He rinses and hands them to Steve in silence, nothing but the sound of running water and bickering six-year-olds filling the empty space between them.

“I’m sorry,” Steve murmurs as Eddie is finishing the last plate.

Eddie doesn’t reply right away. He takes a moment, giving the forks a preliminary rinse before scrubbing them with the sponge. “You didn’t do anything,” Eddie says eventually. He is steadfastly refusing to make eye contact, staring down at the cutlery like they’ll run away if he takes his eyes off them. “I… I apologize for, um…”

Steve’s fingers brush the back of Eddie’s hand when he reaches for the forks. “It’s fine,” Steve reassures him. “I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry for crossing a line. I didn’t even think about…” He trails off, and Eddie can feel him staring at his face, willing him to look back.

And Eddie is a weak man. He looks, and finds Steve’s expression open and apologetic. “It’s okay,” he says softly.

He expects a quick agreement and an end to the conversation, so he’s surprised when instead, Steve shakes his head. “No, Eddie, I really wasn’t… wasn’t very professional. And I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable, I promise it won’t happen again.”

Something in Eddie sinks at that, and he can’t even pretend that it’s not the familiar taste of disappointment. “Oh,” he says faintly. He hands Steve the last cup to dry, grabbing another towel to dry his hands off with.

When Steve’s finished with that cup, Eddie’s already pulling out the milk and searching the pantry for the Oreos. “I’ll go help them set up the movie,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie nods, worrying at his lip. He wants to say something. He’s trying to bite the words back, but-

“Steve,” he says, quiet enough that it wouldn’t surprise him if Steve hadn’t heard.

He does, turning around and raising an eyebrow expectantly. “Yeah?”

Eddie swallows hard, pulling out a packet of Oreos finally, shutting the cabinet door as he looks back at Steve. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” he says firmly. If nothing else gets said about the situation, Eddie wants him to know that. He doesn’t have to know how far from uncomfortable the situation actually did make him feel, but that’s a good first step, he thinks.

Steve’s eyes widen, just a little. Enough for Eddie to notice from where he stands a couple feet away, at least, and something about that is just a little bit satisfying. Eddie watches as Steve processes this, nods slowly, and swallows. “Right,” he says. “Okay. Thanks for… um, reassuring me about that.”

It almost makes Eddie want to laugh, but instead he just smiles and nods. He watches Steve make his way over to the girls, and maybe it’s his imagination, but Eddie swears that Steve shivers, or at least shakes himself, like he’s been caught off guard.

Something about that makes Eddie feel a lot better.

He joins them in the living room a few minutes later, three glasses of milk balanced in his hands, the pack of Oreos balanced precariously on top of them. “Careful,” he says when Ivy flops onto the couch just as he’s setting the glasses down on the coffee table. “Alright, four Oreos each?” Eddie asks, glancing around at Steve with what he hopes are very convincing pleading eyes.

Steve puts his hands on his hips, pursing his lips. “I usually only give them three each,” he says, fully aware that Eddie already knows this after they’d had this conversation two or three nights ago.

Eddie bats his eyes sweetly. He’s not even playing at it in a seductive way, simply trying to bribe more sugar for these kids he’s starting to care about like they are his own. Still, despite the innocent intent behind the action, he notices Steve’s Adam’s apple bob, his gaze shifting from Eddie like he’s… nervous? That can’t be right.

“Alright,” Steve says, glancing at the twins, who look all too happy from their spot on the other end of the couch. “Just this once,” he warns to the sound of their excited chatter. He glances back at Eddie, giving him an exasperated sort of smile. “Feels illegal, you teaming up against me with them,” he murmurs as he sits down in his armchair, which Eddie had gathered was his unofficial assigned seat.

Eddie shrugs, but can’t help the grin that creeps onto his face. The evening has made a quick turn around back into their usual banter, and Eddie is beyond grateful for the feeling of normalcy. “What can I say, I just think they’re cooler,” Eddie ribs playfully, reaching over to hand the twins their portion of Oreos. “Be careful not to get crumbs all over the couch,” he says, the warning falling easily from his mouth.

He turns to Steve next, pulling the same amount of Oreos out of the package and reaching out to hand them to him. “Here,” Eddie says, glancing up at Steve’s face when he doesn’t immediately hold his hand out for them. He has a soft look on his face, and Eddie can’t help his body’s natural instinct to flush red all over. “What?” he asks in a near whisper, aware that the girls are already well-distracted by their movie.

“Nothing,” Steve says lightly. “I just…” He shrugs, getting an almost helpless look on his face. “I just think you’ve been really great with the kids so far this week. So, thank you.”

Eddie’s definitely blushing. He glances down, feels stupid for the way he’s still holding the Oreos out and Steve isn’t taking them. It prompts him to lean forward, grabbing Steve’s hand and holding it out himself, stacking the Oreos neatly on his palm. “Well,” Eddie says, unsure how to even accept that kind of genuine gratitude. “I really enjoy being here,” he admits, feeling a little silly for saying something which he thinks is probably quite obvious.

Steve gives him an easy smile. “I can tell,” he says quietly. “I think that’s why they like you so much,” he continues, nodding at the twins.

Eddie smiles, proud. He closes the Oreo package, deciding to skip on dessert for tonight. “I’m glad,” he says, watching the twins fondly as they take apart their Oreos, licking the cream out of the middle like a pair of little heathens. He glances back at Steve and has to hide his smirk when he finds him doing the same thing, his eyes still trained on Eddie. “Like father, like daughter,” Eddie teases.

Steve blinks, cocks his head to the side like a confused, lost puppy. It’s ridiculously cute. Eddie rolls his eyes, gesturing to the twins. He watches as it clicks, Steve’s face relaxing into an easy grin. He gives a little shrug, like he’s saying “What can you do?” Eddie has to force himself to look away, tucking his left leg mostly underneath himself with his right leg propped up as he turns to stare at the television screen, not really taking in a single thing. He props his elbow up on his own knee, dropping his head into his hand. The sleeve of his borrowed sweatshirt falls just a little too far over his hand, and he hopes it isn’t ridiculously obvious, the way he’s sniffing at it, trying to inhale Steve’s scent as much as he can.

They’re probably halfway through the movie when Steve gets up to go carry the cookies and glasses back to the kitchen. Eddie glances up at him, shaking his head. “Oh, I can get that, sir-”

Steve gives him a look. “I’ve got it, hon. And you don’t… remember, you don’t have to call me that.”

Eddie flushes, but nods. “Right, sorry,” he mumbles. It still feels weird, that Steve doesn’t want that title, that one little boundary that would help make all this even more professional.

He watches Steve collect the glasses, turning back to the film a little reluctantly when the only thing left to look at is Steve’s backside as he walks to the kitchen. Eddie feels a little gross about wanting to look, so he forces himself to find entertainment on the screen instead.

He’s pulled out of it slightly when Ivy hops up from the couch, and he glances at her as she goes and plops herself into Steve’s chair, giggling when she catches Eddie’s eye. “Watch what Daddy does when I steal his chair!” she says, burrowing herself into the chair like she’s there to stay.

Sure enough, Steve returns from the kitchen just a couple minutes later, a laugh in his voice when he spots her. “What’ve we got here?” he teases, rubbing his hand over her head. “I think someone is in my chair.”

Ivy giggles loudly, tilting her head back to look up at her dad with a huge grin. “Can’t I sit here, just for tonight?” She asks, her voice sweet.

Steve hums, like he’s considering it. “Hmm… Well, I suppose you have been pretty good this week,” he tells her.

Ivy whoops excitedly, like she knows she’s already won. And she has, of course. Steve bends down and kisses the top of her head before stepping closer to the couch. Instinctively, Eddie moves towards the middle, freeing up the space next to the armrest for Steve.

“Hi,” Steve says with a little grin as he settles into the spot Eddie has just abandoned.

Eddie smiles at him, tries to pretend like he’s unbothered by the closeness. “Hi,” he parrots before turning back to the television.

The one thing he’d learned that he doesn’t particularly like about the way Steve has this apartment set up is the living room. The television sits on one wall with the armchair directly facing it, the coffee table sitting in the space in between the two. The couch, however, sits along the wall of windows, facing the kitchen area and forming perpendicular lines with the armchair and television. It’s alright when they’re not watching something, but when they are - well, the couch-sitters have to turn either their head or their whole body to be able to watch.

It’s inconvenient at best.

Especially when Steve is basically sitting behind him, and Eddie can practically feel his gaze. He tries to rationalize it, that Steve is just watching the movie, not watching him, but when he risks a look over his shoulder, Steve is already looking back at him. He startles, when Eddie makes eye contact, and Eddie feels his face flush with color.

He turns back to the television, once again burying his nose into the fabric of the sweatshirt and taking a deep, slow breath, like that’ll help calm his nerves any. It works, for just a minute.

But then, he feels a hand on his thigh.

His eyes fly open immediately, and he glances down at where Steve’s hand is resting so gently on his leg, over the soft flannel of his pajama pants, close enough to the knee that it doesn’t feel completely suggestive. Eddie glances back at Steve again, hoping his eyes betray his confusion.

Steve gives him a little smile, tilting forward so he can speak softly in Eddie’s ear. “Is the burn still hurting?” he asks. His lips barely brush the shell of Eddie’s ear, and he’s afraid he might do something stupid like faint, or moan.

“Uh…” Eddie says, fumbling like an idiot for something to say. “I… no?” He says, like it’s some kind of question. Steve is so close, his scent is so strong, and Eddie’s afraid that his scent is probably matching in intensity, and he only hopes that it’s not doing the stupid omega betrayal thing.

“Are you sure?” Steve asks. He pats Eddie’s thigh gently. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

Eddie nods dumbly, glancing over his shoulder at Steve. His face is closer than Eddie expected, and he has to reel back a little so they don’t bump their noses together. “Yeah, I feel fine,” he says, somehow managing to make it sound relatively stable. He even manages a smile. “Thank you for checking on me.”

Steve smiles, then pulls his hand away, leaning back against the couch like he’s content. “Of course,” he says easily. His hand comes up and he rubs a few circles into Eddie’s shoulder blades. “That’s part of my job,” he says with a cheesy little smile.

Eddie almost wants to argue that no, it’s his job to make sure that Steve and his daughters are well looked-after, but… but for some reason he doesn’t. Because he’s starting to realize, as odd as it is… it’s nice, to be looked after. To have someone who wants to care about you.

He’s not sure he’s ever really had that before.

~~~

It’s only a little bit later that the credits of the movie roll, and Steve and Eddie have to carry two half-asleep girls to their bedroom. Jasmine is mostly limp in Eddie’s arms, her little arms around his neck as she just barely holds onto him as he carries her down the hall.

Steve carries Ivy, who is practically dead weight from the way he grimaces when he scoops her up, and Eddie can’t help but be a little proud that he got the better end of the bargain.

They’ve already managed to create somewhat of a system with their bedtime routine. They’ll each tuck in one twin, make sure she has her stuffed animal of choice, and then swap places to say goodnight to the other. It’s a simple system, one that so far this week they’ve only faltered on once. It’s a routine Eddie can easily see himself becoming used to for a long time.

Tonight they don’t falter on it either. After Eddie has given Jasmine her favorite stuffed penguin, he kisses her head, murmuring a quiet, “g’night, love bug,” before stepping back. He almost bumps into Steve and they reach out to steady each other at the same time, Steve’s hand landing on Eddie’s waist, while Eddie’s hand goes to Steve’s arm. “Sorry,” Eddie mumbles, embarrassed.

Steve squeezes his hip. “Careful, hon,” he says before swapping places with Eddie, going to say goodnight to Jasmine.

Ivy’s eyes are already closed but she holds her arms out. “Hug,” she demands simply.

Eddie grins, shaking his head. “Yes ma’am,” he says, leaning down to hug her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Need anything?” He asks, smoothing her blanket down.

Ivy shakes her head, snuggling into her pillow, her stuffed animal tucked under her arm. “No, I’m good,” she mumbles. “Night.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Eddie says softly, making sure she’s fully tucked in before stepping towards the door. He can feel Steve following close behind, and pauses to wait for him to close the door.

And then, it’s just the two of them.

“You headed to bed?” Steve asks softly, stuffing his hands in his back pockets, a little more awkward than Eddie is used to seeing him.

Eddie shakes his head, reaching up to tuck a stray hair behind his ear, a little flushed with the scent of Steve wafting off the borrowed sweatshirt. “I need to do some laundry first, since… you know,” he shrugs, gesturing to himself pointedly.

Steve nods. “Right, right.” He rubs at the back of his neck, glancing down the hall. “Um… I’ve got a couple things to throw in the wash too, if you don’t mind sharing a load?”

Eddie wants to laugh at that, at how obviously he doesn’t mind doing just that, but he also doesn’t want to sound too pathetic. “Sure,” Eddie nods as he steps towards his bedroom. “I’ll just grab mine, if you’ll go get yours?”

“Sure,” Steve nods as well before disappearing down the hall. Eddie hums quietly to himself as he gathers up his dirty clothes, which is pretty much… everything he owns, really. He’s dumping it into the washer when Steve comes back, a small pile in his own arms. Eddie quirks a brow when he sees it.

“I didn’t realize you owned so much black clothes,” he says, taking the items from Steve and dumping them into the washer atop his own things.

Steve shrugs. “It’s mostly just underwear,” he says casually, like that doesn’t make Eddie’s whole body tingle. It’s stupid, but he just knows that now he’s going to be thinking about how all of his clothes have touched Steve’s boxers, which have touched Steve’s - nope, not going there.

“Oh,” Eddie says, mostly to fill the silence. He adds some detergent and fabric softener, feeling a little self-conscious with Steve standing right there beside him. He closes the lid and sets the cycle, and when he turns, Steve is leaning against the wall, studying him. “What?” Eddie asks, a little embarrassed.

Steve just smiles, shaking his head. “Nothing. Come on, you want a drink?”

He doesn’t give Eddie a chance to respond, instead heading straight for the kitchen. Eddie trails slowly behind him, hesitating when he sees Steve pull out two short glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

“Oh, I-“ he pauses. He doesn’t want to sound stupid, but…

“Hm?” Steve hums, glancing up at Eddie after pouring a glass. “Oh, do you not-“

“I don’t like whiskey,” Eddie says with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I just-“

Steve cuts him off with a dismissive wave. “Pft, that’s nothing to apologize for. It’s definitely an… acquired taste,” he says with a little laugh. He recaps the bottle and places it back in that pantry above the fridge, and Eddie watches as he roots around for something else. “So, what do you like? Scotch? Vodka? I can mix you something, if you want…”

Eddie’s stupid eyes have traveled down the long length of Steve’s muscular back, so easy to see against the strain of his stupid fucking t-shirt he’d changed into earlier. He completely misses whatever it is Steve is saying to him or asking him, and when Steve turns to look at him over his shoulder, Eddie feels like he might actually burst into flames in sheer embarrassment.

“Eds?” Steve says, his voice carrying just a slight hint of amusement. “Drink?”

Eddie shakes his head, hoping his shaking curls will hide his mortification. “Uh, no thanks,” he says, going to sit on one of the barstools, fiddling with his rings.

Steve sighs and closes the cabinet, grabbing his glass of whiskey before rounding the counter to stand almost right in front of Eddie. “Eddie, you can have a drink. The twins are in bed. You’re basically off-duty right now,” he says as he takes a sip.

If it were anyone else, Eddie would mistake it for flirting.

He knows better.

“Yeah, but you aren’t in bed,” he says, pointing a finger at Steve’s chest playfully.

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, but I didn’t hire you to babysit me,” he says, his grin melting into a smirk. “Or is this you telling me that you think I need a babysitter?”

Eddie has to bite his lip to hide the massive grin that’s threatening to take over his face. He loves this kind of banter, and it puts him at ease in a way he hasn’t felt in ages. “No, not at all,” he says. He can’t help the way his face looks when he tacks on, “You’ve already got one, remember?”

Steve laughs at that, like a genuine laugh, the kind of laugh Eddie doesn’t think anyone could fake. “Right, right,” he says. “Honestly, I probably do need a babysitter worse than they do. I’m kind of a mess.”

Eddie is acutely aware of how close together they are right now. If he wanted to, he could move his hand and touch Steve’s thigh, easily. Instead, he tightens his hands into fists, just so he doesn’t tempt himself. “I don’t think you’re a mess,” he says, soft.

There’s a sad look on Steve’s face then, one that Eddie almost doesn’t recognize. “Yeah… not yet, maybe.” He just sounds so distraught then, so sad, that Eddie really can’t help himself.

He reaches out without thinking about it, resting his fingertips against Steve’s wrist gently. “Hey,” he says, ducking his head to look up at Steve’s face. “Maybe you are a mess,” he says, shrugging. “So what? You’re also a good dad, and…” he hesitates. What he wants to say next might be just a little inappropriate, given the nature of their relationship.

“And?” Steve prompts softly. The thin skin of his wrist is warm underneath Eddie’s fingertips.

Eddie takes a deep breath. He feels stupid, but he knows he needs to say this, to give Steve a little peace of mind. “And… probably the kindest alpha I’ve ever met. Okay? And that means a lot, even if you’re a mess.”

Steve smiles, a small, unsure thing. “Really?” he asks, peering down at Eddie, his eyelashes fanning softly over his cheekbones. He’s so gorgeous, it actually hurts a little bit.

“Yes,” Eddie says back, his voice almost a whisper. He pulls his hand away, dropping it to rest in his lap.

Steve sets his drink down on the bar, and Eddie wishes that he was about to pull him into an embrace. Instead, he leans against the counter, one hand supporting him while his other hand reaches out and brushes some of Eddie’s hair back out of his face. “I appreciate that,” he says, matching Eddie’s volume. “I think you’re flattering me a bit, but I’ll take it.”

Eddie shakes his head, which disrupts the hand that Steve still hasn’t removed from his hair. “I’m not, I promise,” Eddie disagrees. “I… I’ve seen some shit, Mr. Har- Steve,” he catches himself at the look on Steve’s face. “And… and so far, I think it’s easy to say that you’re probably one of the good ones.”

“Thank you,” Steve says quietly. His eyes are intense as they dart between Eddie’s and he’s a little relieved when Steve drops his hand and steps back, putting some much-needed space in between them. “How’s the burn feeling?” he asks, gesturing to Eddie’s stomach.

With everything else going on, Eddie had managed to forget all about it. He puts a hand over his stomach, like he’ll be able to tell anything by just hovering over it, and shrugs. “I think it’s fine,” he says. “Still hurts a bit, but that’s kind of what I expected.”

Steve nods. “I’ll put some more ointment on it in the morning,” he says. He seems to catch himself then, and his eyes widen just a bit. “Or- I mean- you can, if you don’t- I don’t have to-”

Eddie cuts him off then with a gentle smile. “That would be great, Steve, thank you,” he says.

That seems to settle Steve’s nerves, and he nods, downing the last of his whiskey. “Okay,” he says. “And, um… One more thing I wanted to ask you,” he says, sounding almost… nervous?

“Sure,” Eddie says, watching as Steve goes to rinse out the glass.

“So, the girls and I are going shopping tomorrow, and I know it’s your day off, but I thought you’d like to go with us,” Steve says, glancing up at Eddie’s face and away again quickly.

“Oh,” Eddie says, a little surprised at the offer. “I don’t have any plans, so… sure, I’d love to.”

Steve smiles, visible relief on his face. “Okay, perfect. I thought we could maybe find you a few new outfits, too, if that’s alright?” He carefully doesn’t look at Eddie as he says this, drying the glass off a little more than Eddie thinks it probably needs.

“Oh,” Eddie repeats. He’s not sure how to feel about that. Is he going to have some kind of… nanny uniform rules to follow? Because he quite likes the style he sports now, thank you, and if Steve thinks-

“You can pick out whatever you want,” Steve says hurriedly. “I’ll pay for everything, I just…” he shrugs, finally turning back to look at Eddie without any shift in his gaze. “I really don’t want you going without,” he says.

Eddie’s quick on the defense, this time. “I am not going without,” he says, trying to keep his tone even. He’s used to living with the bare minimum, it doesn’t bother him. And while the idea of some new things sounds great in theory… in practice, he’s a little worried about this. About what it would mean if Steve were the one buying him these things, and what kind of strings would be attached.

“Right,” Steve says, shaking his head, his eyebrows furrowed. He looks upset, and Eddie realizes, vaguely, that he’s not upset with him, just annoyed with himself. “I didn’t mean like… I just want you to have things, okay? I know it’s sort of materialistic, but…” He gives an awkward little laugh, rubs the back of his neck as he looks away. “Gift-giving is one of my love languages, I guess.”

Eddie’s stupid heart thrums hard at the word. “Right,” he echoes quietly.

“It’s just… how I like to take care of people. And for as long as you stay with us, it’s my responsibility to take care of you, alright?” Steve finally returns his gaze, and he looks determined. “You’ll pick out whatever you want, yeah? Please?”

And how the hell is Eddie supposed to say no to a face like that? Especially when the face is saying “please?” all sweet like that? He can’t.

Instead, he nods. “Okay,” he says softly. “Um… thank you.”

Steve just smiles and shakes his head. “No need. Just be ready to shop till you drop, okay?”

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