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lmaouwu · 1 year ago

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This series is soooooooo goodd

and the universe said,

05 “trust no one”

genres/tags: soulmate au, idol au, comedy, romance, dumbassery relationship(s): ot13 x reader chapter warnings: language. note: sorry for not updating in a while <3 it will happen again <3

When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren’t – and that’s before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

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You walk out of the interview room with your shoulders straight, your stride smooth and confident, and your chin held high.

Then you leave the building, and your “I got this” persona drops like an ice cream scoop on hot pavement. You don’t show any outward signs of your turmoil because there are people around, but in your head, you’re screaming.

If there’s one thing to make you feel the tiniest bit better, it’s the fact that you’re now wearing short sleeves on such a nice day. After the coffee spilling debacle not even an hour ago, you’d luckily been able to run into a random clothing shop that was between the cafe and where you had your interview. The clerk probably thought you were crazy for grabbing the first thing off a rack which might fit you and buying it within a minute of walking through the door, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. It was either that, or go to your interview drenched in cold brew.

The downside of the short sleeved shirt you’re wearing now, though, was just as expected. You weren’t even done introducing yourself before your soulmate started singing again. For all the staring you’ve undergone since the discovery of the existence of soulmates, the interviewer was relatively apathetic towards your moving mark. You thought maybe she didn’t care — that you’d actually be able to snag a job without being bombarded with questions about a person you haven’t met yet.

And then she asked, “Have you met your soulmate?”

You told her the truth. No, you haven’t met them yet. You didn’t mention how you’re not sure if you even want to right now.

Thoughtfully, she nodded her head and wrote something down on her clipboard. You wondered what she could have possibly needed to write down from that information. “I’ve read that soulmate pulls can negatively effect work performance,” she said, monotone. “Do you have any solutions in mind if that should happen?”

And at that, you just blinked. Of all the interview questions you’d practiced with Heejun, that certainly wasn’t one of them. You hated the way you floundered for more than a few seconds, practically silent while the interviewer waited for your answer.

Damn coffee guy. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t have looked like such an idiot.

Thinking of him again, you sigh and pull out your phone. Right before the interview, you’d swiped away the text you’d sent yourself from his phone, but now you open up the near-empty message thread.

Maybe you were a little harsh. You were nervous for your interview and panicked when you had to deal with one more thing on top of your stupid soulmark.

Then again, he did pour an entire fucking coffee on you. So maybe you weren’t harsh enough.

You stare at the message and the unsaved number. If you were a perfect person, an ideal member of society, an utter angel, maybe you’d just live and let live. But that was one of your nicest shirts, and you’re not a perfect person.

So you send him the account you use for e-transfers. Nothing else, just that. If he ghosts you and doesn’t send anything — fine. You won’t harass him. You’ll just complain harder to Heejun later. If he does pay you back, then maybe he’s not an asshole and it really was an accident.

Still, if this costs you another job opportunity…

Shaking the thought away, you sigh and close the messaging app to find the fastest bus route home.

⭒

Boo Seungkwan really thought that when the vocal unit of the band Seventeen was invited for a radio show appearance, they’d be asked about music.

All of the members were advised to keep their marks as hidden as possible — while being subtle about it, of course. Their fans know about the five lines, but the music note part of their marks has remained off camera and unmentioned while the company tries to figure out a plausible explanation to pedal to the public. Seungkwan doesn’t like lying, but he can’t deny that keeping their extra soulmate a secret would probably be best for their privacy. Each member chose to be a part of this life, and with that, chose to lose a certain level of privacy between themselves and the public eye. Their soulmate never signed up for that.

“A lot of your fans have mentioned how unsurprised they were to find out you all were soulmates,” the radio host starts, kicking off yet another question about the phenomenon linking all the members together. Seungkwan has tried to be funny about it — that’s sort of his thing — but the questions are starting to grate at him. “Were you guys surprised at all?”

Jeonghan, somehow taking over most of the questions today and managing to keep calm, has steered a lot of the conversations exactly the way management wants them. He’s doing it so well that Seungkwan is almost suspicious.

“Oh, it was definitely shocking,” he answers with a half chuckle, which earns a polite laugh back from the host. “I mean, I woke up with a brand new tattoo! To be in that situation without any context, then find out all your friends are going through the exact same thing… it was something straight out of the imagination. We were all so confused until we came across news of the phenomenon worldwide.”

Seokmin leans closer to his mic. “The night before, I practiced really late. When I woke up and saw the mark, I thought I’d drawn it and forgot.”

“But you couldn’t draw lines that straight and perfectly spaced apart even if you were awake!” Jeonghan teases.

“Exactly!” Seokmin scoots his chair closer to the table, hands excitedly gripping the armrests. “I thought I unlocked secret artistic talent when I was tired, or something!”

“If you told me you thought that before all this soulmate stuff came to light, I would’ve thought that was way more probable,” Joshua jokes.

The host laughs, but he prods on. “I’m sure waking up with tattoos you don’t remember getting was a surprise, but are any of you surprised that you’re each other’s soulmates? Many fans have always thought of you as soulmates.”

The vocal unit members look at each other, and Seungkwan makes eye contact with Jihoon, who’s been quiet for most of the show, amicably nodding along and smiling at everyone’s jokes. It’s not unusual for him to dial down his presence during interviews, especially when Seungkwan is there to keep everyone entertained. Since Seungkwan has been a bit quieter today, though, (less focused on making jokes and keeping up the atmosphere,) he’s noticed something about Jihoon.

He’s… happy.

And not just “on camera” happy. This bitch is glowing.

Jihoon is honestly not a grumpy guy. Sure, he’s not as outwardly sunshiney as someone like Seokmin or Soonyoung, and sure, he’s not the biggest fan of skinship — or even a fan at all — but he always treats the boys like family. He likes his alone time, but he likes time with them, too. He laughs at everyone’s jokes, and you can always tell when his smile is genuine.

This smile? There’s more to it than just being plastered on to keep up a good public image.

Something is up.

Jeonghan is the one to break the short silence. “I’ve said this before, but the members of Seventeen are my best friends. Most people are lucky to have one or two best friends, but I get to say that about 12 people I love.” He looks around the table, smiling softly at each of the members present. “So, no. I’m not surprised at all.”

Seungkwan can almost hear the fangirls screaming in the distance at Jeonghan’s sweet, sweet lie.

He peeks down at his right hand, which he’s kept under the table for most of the show, and recalls how the notes had appeared while they were in the car waiting for Jihoon to come back from the cafe. His eyes had widened, and he watched his mark with rapt attention while Seokmin did the same, trying to hum along to the notes but not quite getting there. Jeonghan just held his hands on his lap, smiling down at the mark as his left thumb rubbed over it. None of them had really paid attention to the way Joshua just kept scrolling through his phone, not noticing the music notes at all.

Seungkwan totally forgot to ask Jihoon if he saw the mark move. Would that have anything to do with him coming out sans food?

Seokmin quickly recovers from Jeonghan’s answer, playfully pushing at his shoulder. “Wahhh, so sappy, hyung!”

Laughing, Jeonghan pushes Seokmin back. “You’re right, Seokmin. The universe must’ve made a terrible mistake— none of you brats deserve my love!”

Everyone laughs, Seungkwan joining in once he realizes he should, and the host flips a page on his script. “Ah, you all seem so close. It’s no wonder you are platonic soulmates.”

At the word ‘soulmates’, Jihoon smiles again, a little wider as he looks down at his lap. Seungkwan can’t see from across the table, but he can bet dollars to doughnuts Jihoon’s looking at his mark.

Okay. Let the investigation begin.

⭒

Hansol Vernon Chwe takes great pleasure in the way Jihoon jumps out of his skin when Vernon spins around in his swivel chair like a villain in an evil lair. The only thing that would make this better would be if he had a cat in his arms so he could be the true epitome of cartoon antagonist.

He’s only in Jihoon’s studio, though, camped out there ever since Seungkwan’s cryptic message about Jihoon hiding something soulmate-related.

You’re his favourite, he texted. Get him to spill. But be subtle.

“Shit, Vernon.” Jihoon clutches his chest, his phone trapped there under his fingers. His other hand is still on the doorknob from the way he was ready to flee the fuck out of there when Vernon surprised him as soon as he turned the lights on. “How long have you been sitting there?”

Vernon pretends to inspect his nails. “Oh, not long. How about you, hyung? Did the radio show go well?”

“It was… fine.” Jihoon lowers his hand from his chest, suspicious. “Why?”

“No specific reason. Can’t I just check in on my favourite hyung?”

“After waiting in my studio with the lights off like a creep?”

Vernon tilts his head, putting a hand over his heart. “A creep? Ouch, bro. That hurts.”

Groaning, Jihoon rolls his eyes, but a pinging noise coming from his phone makes his eyes widen. He immediately brings the phone up to his face, almost comically close to his nose. “Shit,” he whispers to himself with a hint of self doubt and a dash of desperation in his voice. “No no no, wait. No. Shit.”

Curious, Vernon looks up at Jihoon. “What’s up?”

Jihoon ignores him, still speaking to himself. “What do I say?”

“Who is it?” Vernon stands from the chair and takes a step towards Jihoon.

Eyes darting up, Jihoon hides the face of his phone against his chest again and curls to the side, using his body as a shield. “No one.”

Vernon raises an eyebrow and steps even closer. “No one?”

“No one!”

Jihoon backs himself into the door of his studio, trapped between Vernon and a hard place.

There are only two people Vernon can think of that would make Jihoon react like this to their texts.

One: IU

And two: well, the person who’s stirred up all of their lives like chaos soup.

“Y’know, hyung, it seems to me like you’re in a rough spot,” Vernon says, holding in a chuckle when Jihoon sneaks another glance at his phone. “I could help you figure out what to say.”

Jihoon gulps, looking up at him. “Really?”

He smirks. “At a price, of course.”

Jihoon’s brows pinch together, and he glares at Vernon for half a second before sighing out through his nose. “What kind of price?”

“Nothing big. Just this—” He puts his hands up in air quotes. “— ‘nobody’s’ number.”

Jihoon looks like he’s about to refuse (adamantly), but another ping from his phone plays, and as soon as he reads it, he shoves his phone in Vernon’s face.

“Fine. Help me. Please.”

Triumphant, Vernon takes Jihoon’s phone and plops back down in the swivel chair to read back on the messages to and from the unsaved number.

I’ll pay you back for the shirt

[unknown] [email protected]

[unknown] You can send the money to this account

Oh What if I can't

[unknown] …?

Uh I can’t transfer money digitally

[unknown] why not?

I don’t believe in banks?

[unknown] you… don’t believe in banks [unknown] look, if you didn’t want to pay me back, you could just like. not answer [unknown] you don’t have to waste both of our time with dumb lies [unknown] just forget it

Vernon looks up at Jihoon, whose ears have burned bright red at this point. “Holy crap dude. You’re more hopeless than I thought.”

“You don’t think I know that? Help me!”

“I know I was playing coy and not naming names…” Vernon shakes his head slowly; he can’t believe what he’s reading. “...but please tell me you’re not flubbing it this hard with our soulmate.”

Jihoon tries to defend himself. “I am not flubbing—” He cuts himself off when Vernon raises his eyebrow again. Stupid pronounced features. “Okay, yes, I’m messing up and maybe I found our soulmate this morning and maybe I poured coffee on them and maybe I feel like every rational thought has left my brain and now I can’t even text like a normal human being and you said you’d help me so help me!”

Vernon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Fixing this might take some drastic measures…” Frowning, he blinks once and looks back up at Jihoon. “Wait, what do you mean you poured coffee on them?”

“It’s a long story— now say something with your ENFP ass before they block me!”

“This is gonna take more than a text.” Vernon stands from the chair, presses something on Jihoon’s phone screen, then turns it to face him.

Jihoon’s eyes widen at the sight: the entire screen taken over by an outgoing call to the unsaved number. Frantically, he whisper-yells, “How is this helping?!” even though their soulmate hasn’t picked up yet.

Vernon puts one hand on Jihoon’s shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“No!”

But Jihoon doesn’t have the time to tackle Vernon and get his phone back like his brain so helpfully supplies as plan A. Your voice, quiet but undeniably yours, sounds from his phone’s speaker.

“Hello?”

⭒

“And he goes, ‘I don’t believe in banks’,” you recount to your friend, whose face takes up your phone’s screen while it sits on your bed. You were tidying up your room when he video-called you to ask how your interview went. “Banks, Heejun. Banks!”

“The hell…? Maybe he’s one of those weird apocalypse survivalist bros.”

You scoff. “In this economy? I bet he payed for that stupid coffee with a credit card.”

“Probably,” Heejun says, nodding along while he watches you fold laundry. “Was he cute?”

Your brows furrow, and you frown at your phone. “Why should that matter?”

Heejun shrugs. “Dunno. Kinda sounds like you went through a romcom meet-cute. A fucked up meet-cute, but still.”

Unable to discount his logic, you tilt your head to the side and try to remember coffee guy’s face. “He was wearing a mask… so I couldn’t really tell. Oh, I guess he was on the shorter side, but that’s pretty much all I can remember.”

“Short… red flag.”

“Get you and your toxic masculinity out of here.”

Cracking a smile, Heejun wags a finger at you. “So you’re saying you’re into short guys?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” you retort with a barely veiled smile on your own face, relaxed now that the interview process is over. Either you get the job, or you don’t. It’s out of your hands now. “You know what is a red flag? His aversion to banks! I mean, what’s with that?”

“Maybe he’s allergic to electricity.”

“Heejun, in what world—”

His forehead gets covered by an incoming call from an unsaved number, but you recognize it.

“Oh,” you say. “He’s calling me.”

“Coffee guy?”

You nod. “Should I answer?”

“Get your turtleneck money, bub. You heard Smash Mouth— get the show on, get paid!”

Rolling your eyes at him, you say, “Okay, I’m hanging up, nerd.”

You end the call with Heejun and press answer to the unsaved number, bringing your phone up to your ear. “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Hello…?”

You hear some shuffling on the other end of the line, and maybe some hushed whispers, but nothing you can make out.

“If you’re trying to be funny, it’s not working—”

“Hi!” the slightly familiar voice of coffee guy filters through the phone, and you wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“...Hi.” You switch your phone to your other ear. “Listen, I know I was a little intense at the cafe, but I really don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask—”

“I can pay you back! I can.”

“Okay… the email I sent you—”

“Could we, uh, meet up in person? I can give you cash.”

You’re not the best at identifying red flags, but this sure feels like one. “Because you don’t believe in banks?”

“Uhhhh…” He pauses. “...Yes. But also… we could meet in a cafe? So I can replace your drink too.”

You raise your eyebrows, knowing he can’t see it. “That’s not necessary—”

“I want to.” Some more rustling in the background. “I mean— it’s… my bad? I’d— I’d like to by you a drink.”

It’s not one of your habits to meet up with weird guys who pour coffee on people and don’t believe in banks, but for some reason, you feel weirdly flattered. “That’s the kind of line I’d usually hear in a bar.”

Coffee guy clears his throat, and you wonder if he looks as flustered as he sounds. “So… would you…?”

Sighing, you debate between your options. Meet a weirdo once and get the money back for your nicest turtleneck with the possibility of him not bringing the money at all and/or murdering you and wearing your skin as a suit because stranger danger… or avoid the situation entirely and pay for the dry-cleaning yourself.

Well, like Heejun said, if you don’t get the show on, you won’t get paid.

“Fine,” you say after a couple seconds, and you swear you hear a relieved exhale on the other end of the line. “But I’m picking the cafe and time. My friend works there, and if you try anything, he’ll beat you up.”

(Heejun wouldn’t hurt a fly if it personally wronged him, but coffee guy doesn’t need to know that.)

“Great!” he breathes out, completely glossing over the threat. “That’s great! Just, uh— text me the address!”

“I will. Just one question.”

“Uh huh?”

“Are you allergic to cats?”

⭒

When Vernon returns to the dorms, Seungkwan pulls him to the side and whispers, “So? What did you find out?”

Vernon stuffs his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his lips. He quickly puts on a straight face. “Nothing, sorry. You must’ve been seeing things.”

Seungkwan’s jaw drops. He gawks in disbelief as one of his best friends claps him twice on the shoulder and walks off.

You can’t trust anyone these days.

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updates for and the universe said, are not on a schedule. there is no taglist. thank you for reading!

#seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt ot13 x reader #svt x reader #im so inlove #i love this #ahhhhh

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transvampireboyfriend · 2 years ago

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Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.

They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.

Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.

The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.

Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.

The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.

Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.

He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.

He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.

Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.

It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.

"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.

As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".

Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.

The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.

“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.

“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.

Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…

“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him. They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.

To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.

Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.

Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.

"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.

He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.

So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.

Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.

But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.

He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.

The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.

The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.

Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.

Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.

And this week might be the perfect time.

Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.

“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.

“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.

"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.

Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.

Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".

It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.

Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry. Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.

And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.

He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.

But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.

Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.

"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.

Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.

"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.

Steve looks down at their joined hands,.

"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.

His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.

"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks

Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.

Eddie nods his agreement.

"I call everyone those things" he points out.

Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.

Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.

"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.

"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.

"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.

"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.

He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.

"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.

"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.

Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.

"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.

Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.

"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.

"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.

" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.

"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.

"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.

"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.

"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.

Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.

Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.

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