#girl i don' t knwo what this isssss

[patheticgirlsteve]

Steve loves Eddie's hands. They're beautiful and they're kind of impossible not to stare at, Steve thinks. He's not really sure how everyone else manages to pull their eyes away from them when they're playing guitar at The Hideout, or gesticulating with gusto during one of their Hellfire sessions, or when they're absently spinning the rings that adorn his fingers.

So, yeah, Steve loves Eddie's hands, thinks about them constantly. About what they would feel like holding Steve's hand as they sit together on the couch during movie night, or how they would feel cupping his face as he leaned in for a kiss, or how they would feel sinking into Steve's hair, tugging just a little.

So when Steve sees his opportunity to find out just how those hands feel cradled in his own, he takes it.

They've been at the trailer all day, smoking and just hanging out together with no expectations. These are some of Steve's favorite days lately, just spending time with Eddie, listening to him ramble about whatever nerd tangent he's gone off on any given day.

He specially likes days like today, specifically. Days when Eddie's writing music. He won't let Steve see what lyrics he's frantically scrawling into his notebook, but Steve gets to hear the music and that's enough for him. He's kind of honored to be allowed to witness what is clearly a very personal process for Eddie.

Eddie's been playing and writing and playing and writing and playing some more all day, and Steve sees his chance as soon as Eddie puts his baby back on her mount on the wall and flops back onto his bed with a wide grin.

Steve grins back and doesn't say anything as he reaches out and grabs one of Eddie's hands. He carefully starts removing the bulky silver rings from Eddie's fingers.

"What are you doing?" Eddie is watching Steve with an intensity that is hard to ignore, but Steve just continues in his task. He's on a mission and he will not be derailed.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Steve says, slipping off the last of Eddie's rings. They're sitting close, Eddie leaned back against his pillow and Steve cross-legged next to him with his body turned toward Eddie's like a sunflower finding the sun.

"It looks like you're taking off my rings. Why are you doing that? Are you trying to steal them? You could just ask, you know, I'd give you one if you wanted," Eddie doesn't sound upset, just confused and maybe a tiny bit flustered underneath his joking tone. Steve would check to see if Eddie's face has that delightful little flush that it sometimes gets when Steve touches him a little more tenderly than usual or flirts with him a little more overtly.

Steve would like to look, but he thinks he might lose his nerve if he does, so he keeps his eyes focused on Eddie's hands. On Eddie's long fingers, his chipped nails, his calloused fingertips. He places the removed rings into a small pile on Eddie's bedside table, in the little jewelry dish that Steve had gotten for him last month.

"No thanks, they're not really my style. I'm taking them off so that I can do this," And he pulls Eddie's arm out a little further from his body so that he can start massaging Eddie's palm with both of his thumbs.

"Oh," Eddie gasps and Steve feels a rush of satisfaction at how out of breath Eddie sounds. Steve chances a look up and is quietly delighted to see that Eddie is indeed blushing.

"Yeah," Steve offers a small smile as he turns his attention back to Eddie's hand in his. "I figured your hands must be cramping a bit after playing and scribbling things down in your little notebook all day."

Steve sees Eddie nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, um," Eddie says and Steve's heart is racing in his chest. "Thanks, that, uh, it feels good."

"Good," Steve looks up at Eddie with another small smile and releases his hand. "Other hand?" He holds his own palm up for Eddie to place his hand in, which he does bashfully.

"Okay," Eddie is staring openly at Steve almost like he can't believe that Steve would want to massage his hands, which Steve thinks is ridiculous because it's not like he's been subtle about his attraction to Eddie for the past several months.

Steve squeezes Eddie's hand quickly before he works his thumbs into his other palm and it's a little bit sweaty now, but Steve doesn't mind. They sit in companionable silence while Steve finishes the massage.

When he's done, he doesn't release Eddie's hand back to him, just sits with it in his own for a moment. He could do something now, it's a risk, but Steve's almost positive now that Eddie feels the same way about Steve that Steve feels about Eddie. And even if Steve's wrong about that he knows that Eddie won't give him shit for being queer.

So, why not? The benefits of being right outweigh the fear of being wrong and Steve makes up his mind.

"Steve?" Eddie asks slowly, but makes no move to remove his hand from Steve's grip.

"Eddie," Steve answers and brings Eddie's knuckles up to trace across his lips. Steve hears Eddie gasp as he places a gentle but undeniable kiss on the center of Eddie's knuckles, letting his lips linger for a moment before pulling back to look at Eddie's face.

For such a small kiss Eddie looks absolutely wrecked, his face is flushed, his eyes are blown wide, and his mouth is hanging open. Steve's eyes drop to Eddie's lips unconsciously and Eddie closes them with a swallow that makes his adam's apple bob tantalizingly.

"Eddie," Steve repeats and he inches forward so that his knees are pressed up against Eddie's thighs, his face hovering over Eddie's. "Tell me if I'm wrong, okay?"

And then he kisses Eddie.

He doesn't panic when Eddie doesn't kiss back immediately, Steve's kissed enough people to know that it takes a moment sometimes for your brain to catch up with your body.

He doesn't panic, but he does feel a huge rush of relief when Eddie does kiss back, sweet and deep and Steve feels like he could drown in it.

And when one of Eddie's hands comes up to cradle Steve's face while the other works its way into Steve's hair, it feels even better than Steve had imagined.