#nancy as juliet

[vyncentevelyn]

Romeo & Juliet Mercutio

Part 1

(Based on this little snippet.)

Steve smiles at Nancy, “You look beautiful, Nance.”

She blushes and looks down at the rich, plum velvet adorned with fake pearls on the bodice. Steve takes the opening, a glimmer of hope slipping into his heart, “You’re the perfect Juliet.”

Nancy rolls her eyes, “We’ll see.”

“Nancy!” Someone yells, “Places.”

“I gotta go, Steve.” Nancy says, already stepping away.

Steve nods, “Yeah, yeah. Uh, hey. Good luck – or no! Shit. I take that back.” He points and smirks at her, “Break a leg, Nance.”

Nancy smiles but turns away and heads backstage without another word. Steve heads to his seat. He sits down in the third row beside Mike. Mike looks at him with a flat expression that exudes boredom to a degree that is honestly impressive. Steve gives him a thin, close smile. Mike rolls his eyes and slouches further in his seat.

Yeah. That. Steve thinks as he looks around the filling auditorium.

His eyes catch Jonathan standing at the edge of the stage, near the steps. He fiddles with something on his camera, adjusts the lens. But then stops. He gives a small wave to something off stage.

Steve’s heart sinks and he forces himself to ignore it, refuses to name the feeling gathering around his chest.

The lights flash three times.

Mike sighs.

Mrs. Wheeler turns to him and whispers something in his ear.

Steve settles back in the stiff auditorium chair as the lights finally go down and the curtain starts to move back.

The play starts and Steve is uncomfortable. He frowns. Feels the hot flush of frustration on the back of his neck. Shakespeare. Why couldn’t it be like the Wizard of Oz or some shit?

He sinks lower in his seat, gets similarly close to Mike’s position. He bites his bottom lip and tries to focus on the actors not the words, which honestly just sound like riddles. He knows enough about Romeo & Juliet to get the general gist and figures what he can’t understand he can piece together through their actions and the set design. Except…the actors suck.

Mike audibly groans as the lights dim after the first scene. And Steve doesn’t blame him.

The second scene starts and none of the actors are really any better. Romeo, who on the back of pamphlet is played by freshman Gareth Emerson, isn’t that bad. He has a soft face, but he has the chops. His voice is steady and loud, and it fills the auditorium easily. And while it takes a second for Steve to solve the riddling lines, he can appreciate Gareth’s delivery.

And when Nancy walks onto the stage, she delivers her lines as if she was born as Juliet. As if Nancy is the charade. Her voice is as soft as it ever is, but it rings clear. Sounds like music the way the lines rhyme at the end. Steve smiles brightly as her first scene comes to an end.

Between Garth and Nancy, it helps alleviate most of the bad performances. But not entirely. Steve thinks it must be stage fright or something. But it’s like everyone just freezes. Even Nancy and Gareth are guilty of it. They stand on the stage like they are stuck in tar. And sure, Steve isn’t necessarily artistic in any form, but he figures it has to be similar to playing any kind of sport. Coach Morgan’s voice comes screaming to life in his head, “Stationary players mean you lost the game, you have the whole field or court – use it!” And Steve thinks the same thing has to apply here, it must.

Steve looks over at Mike. Mike is grimacing. He looks to Jonathan. Jonathan is standing in the same spot by the stage steps, but he is not aiming his camera at the stage. Steve takes that as confirmation.

Steve frowns. They have at least another hour of this.

But then scene four opens. The scenery changes to a street meant to be somewhere in Italy during early evening. The lighting is warm, and the sound department plays a track of a fountain and what Steve thinks are horses and soft chatter. Some extras stand oddly still in the background wearing masks and holding torches.

Gareth walks onto the stage with the kid playing Benvolio, some Stanly Richards Steve vaguely recognizes. They freeze like statues beside the fake fountain as Gareth delivers the scene’s first lines.

As he speaks a taller actor walks out onto the stage. He saunters onto the stage dressed in all black with gold details sewn on the sleeves and around the collar of his tunic. His dark curls are held back with a gold ribbon in a very loose French braid. He puts one leg up on the edge of the fake fountain and props his head in one hand on his knee. He blinks and Steve realizes he is wearing black eyeliner and gold glitter on his eyelids.

Steve swallows. Feels sweat pinprick his skin on his neck and under his arms. Feels his heartbeat pick up.

The older boy stands back to full height as Gareth says something to him. He walks a few steps into the center of the stage. He turns back and dramatically flings his hand out towards Gareth, his voice is deep and has a slight rasp to it as he sighs, “Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance.”

Gareth starts to reply, still frozen by the fountain. But Steve isn’t paying attention, he is twisting the pamphlet in the low light to try and figure out who is in the scene now. The cast list is set up by order of appearance and if Steve is following everything right, this is Mercutio. Played by Eddie Munson.

Eddie Munson.

Eddie “The Freak” Munson.

Steve quickly looks back up as Mercutio says, “You are a lover; borrow Cupid’s wings, and soar with them above a common bound.”

Steve feels like he’s blushing. Because that is Eddie “The Freak” Munson. The kid he knows as basically a heap of hair in the back of homeroom as he sleeps for the first period. The kid that gives obnoxious speeches during lunch on occasion. The kid who supplies half the school with whatever drug they want at a party and even not at parties.

And here he stands, in black skintight leggings and a matching tunic and eye makeup. And he’s…good. Like really good. He is stealing the show.

Steve swallows.

Mercutio walks over to the fake trellis of roses and fiddles with one of the blooms, “If love be rough with you, be rough with love. Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down.” He turns back and looks at Romeo, puts his hands on his narrow waist, “Give a case to put my visage in:  a visor for a visor!” And to everyone’s shock, Romeo walks over to a table which is set up like a merchant’s booth. Mercutio smirks and slinks up beside him, picks up one of the masks from the table and holds it up so the audience can see it, “What care I, what curious eye doth quote deformities?” He playfully teases Romeo with the mask, covers Gareth’s face and then his own, he smirks, “Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me.”

Romeo swats him away and picks up a feathered mask. Places a coin on the merchant’s table.

Mercutio passes the mask he was holding to Benvolio and picks up another mask. This one is gold with black detailing and will only cover half of his face.

Romeo sighs, “And we mean well in going to this mask, but tis no wit to go.”

Eddie comes and sits beside Romeo at the fountain, adorns his mask. He looks at Romeo, tilts his head, “Why, may one ask?”

“I dream’d a dream tonight.”

“And so did I.”

Mercutio looks out at the audience as Romeo says, “Well what was yours?”

Steve swears their eyes lock. His face feels like it must be the same shade as the fake roses littering the stage. Eddie smirks. Steve’s stomach flips and knots.

Eddie plays with his bottom lip pulling it into his mouth with his teeth before releasing it, his eyes still borrowing into Steve’s. He smiles and slowly pulls his eyes back to Gareth and says, “That dreamers often lie.”

And when Eddie starts his monologue, Steve is hypnotized. He forgets momentarily that there are other people in the room. For a second it’s as if Eddie is delivering his speech just to him. The way he dances around the stage, the way he lowers and raises his voice as if he is signing. It’s a spell. It’s magic. And the spell doesn’t break until Gareth interrupts.

The reality comes bursting right back in. Steve is suddenly hyper aware of Mike sitting beside him, of the sound of the fans lazily spinning above them, of someone coughing behind them.

And Steve is aware of the butterflies swooping in steep arcs in his stomach as he watches Mercutio.

He’s just a good actor….

But every time Mercutio steps onto the stage, Steve can’t help but stare. He watches the older boy even when other actors are talking, when all Eddie is doing is just milling around in the background. He watches Eddie’s lips as he speaks, watches the way his eyes flash and twinkle under the stage lights as he stares intently at the other actors or looks out at the audience, watches his hands when he gestures or picks up props.

And Steve is even watching when he knows he should be paying attention to Nancy. But every time he tries to center his attention anywhere else, he finds himself drawn back to Mercutio. Like a moth to the damn flame…

The lights come up and the stage is set on the street again. Only now it is lit in warm, bright light. Birds chirp with the fountain sound and extras stand in the background.

Benvolio and Mercutio enter the stage among some more extras.

And immediately Steve’s focus is glued to Eddie.

They stop beside the fountain and Benvolio opens the scene. Eddie fans himself with his hand, his lips in a full pout.

“Am I like such a fellow?” Benvolio asks.

Mercutio sighs, drops his hand dramatically. He rolls his eyes and says, “Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as any in Italy, and soon moved to be moody, and as soon moody to be moved.”

A few people in the audience chuckle.

Steve smiles. Watches Eddie’s lips as he talks.

And then Tybalt walks in followed by two others. He looks at his party and points over to Mercutio and Benvolio, “Follow me close, for I will speak to them.” He crosses the stage and stops, frozen, before Mercutio, “Gentlemen, good den:  a word with one of you.”

Mercutio puts his hands on his hips, his fingers trailing over the hilt of a plastic sword, “And but one word with one of us? Couple it with something; make it a word and a blow.”

Romeo enters and the sound cuts. Turns to a low rumble. The lighting turns a rich orange. The tension in the scene is mounting.

And Eddie starts pacing. Steve thinks he looks like a predator. A wolf.

“I do protest I never injured thee, but love thee better than canst devise. Till thou shalt know the reason of my love. And so, good Capulet – which name I tender as dearly as mine own – be satisfied.” Gareth says giving a stiff bow to Tybalt.

Eddie rolls his eyes, drops his shoulders and yells, “O calm, dishonorable, vile submission! Alla stoccado carries it away.”

Steve holds his breath.

The fake sword is drawn. And in a chilling, eerie tone Eddie spits, “Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk?”

Tybalt throws out his arms, “What wouldst thou have with me?”

Mercutio points his sword at him, “Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives that I mean to make bold withal, and as you shall use me hereafter, dry beat the rest of the eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pilcher by the ears? Make haste. Lest mine be about your ears ere it be out.”

Tybalt draws his sword, “I am for you.”

Gareth steps between them and looks at Eddie whose eyes are glued to Tybalt with a wildness that makes Steve blush. Romeo begs, “Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up.”

Mercutio pushes him to the side, sword still pointed at Tybalt, “Come sir, your passado.”

The lights drop to a sickening red. And Mercutio and Tybalt step into a choreographed fight.

Steve can see Eddie is trying his best to match the energy of the other actor, to make it seem justified as the battle sways out of his favor.

Steve bites his lip. His skin feels like it itches.

Tybalt stabs Mercutio and then runs off the stage.

Eddie drops, a single red light focused on him. He touches his ribs and looks at his hand as if it comes away with blood. He lets out a groan that sends shivers down Steve’s spine.

“I am hurt.”

Gareth drops to one knee beside him in the red spotlight and grabs one of Eddie’s hands.

Mercutio looks up at him and then off towards where Tybalt fled. He wrenches his hand away and groans again, louder this time.

The sound should absolutely not hit Steve in the way he feels it, but it does. Steve closes his eyes for a second and hopes that Mike is not paying attention to him, because he swears even in the dark the flush in his skin could be visible.

He opens his eyes when Eddie starts talking again. Eddie’s voice is growl, “A plague! O’ both your houses! I am sped. Is he gone, and hath nothing?!”

Benvolio steps into the spotlight, “What art thou hurt?”

Mercutio’s head lolls to the side, “Ay. Ay. A scratch, a scratch; marry tis enough. Where is my page?” A younger boy steps forward into the spot light. Mercutio points at him with a shaky hand, “Go, villain. Fetch a surgeon.”

The boy runs off.

Romeo reaches for the shaking hand again, but Mercutio snatches it back to his chest. Romeo hangs his head, “Courage, man. The hurt cannot be much.”

Mercutio’s voice drops, it’s soft, “No. Tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a church door, but tis enough. Twill serve.” He touches his ribs again and looks at his hand, “Ask for me tomorrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I am peppered, I warrant, for this world.” He looks up at the red light and yells, “A plague on both your houses!” His head drops and he cries out, “Zounds a dog, a rat, a mouse, a cat to scratch a man to death. A braggart, a rogue, a villain that fights by the book of arithmetic!”

Mercutio grows quiet. He looks up at Romeo. He lifts a shaking hand and cusp Romeo’s cheek.

Steve is on the edge of his seat.

With his hand still on Gareth, Eddie’s voice drops to a crushing baritone as he sorrowfully looks into Gareth’s eyes, “Why the devil came you between us?” He inches closer to Gareth, his voice thick and rough as if he were going to cry, “I was hurt under your arm.”

Steve swears he can hear Mrs. Wheeler crying but he can’t turn away from Eddie to look. Mike sighs though and he figures his assessment is correct.

Romeo grips at the hand still on his cheek, his voice is small, “I thought all for the best.”

Mercutio smirks and drops his hand from Romeo’s face. He looks up at Benvolio, “Help me into some house, Benvolio, or I shall faint.” He looks back at Romeo and whispers, “A plague on both your houses. They have made worms’ meat of me. I have it, and soundly too.”

Benvolio helps Mercutio to his feet, one arm around this middle. Mercutio’s arm slips over his shoulders.

He looks down at Romeo and hisses, “Your houses.”

And then Benvolio and Mercutio leave the red spotlight, disappearing backstage.

Gareth’s voice is loud as he starts talking to the audience. Steve looks over. Mike is looking less bored. Mrs. Wheeler is crying. And Mr. Wheeler is asleep. No one seems to notice the butterflies lingering in Steve.

Benvolio rushes back onto the stage and yells, “O Romeo, Romeo! Brave Mercutio’s dead!” The audience gasps. Benvolio stutters for a second and then adds, “That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, which too untimely here did scorn the earth.”

Steve sighs. The most interesting part of the performance was not coming back.

The rest of the play passes in a blur. When the actors all come out for a final bow Steve cannot help but stare at Eddie Munson. His hair is no longer in a loose French braid and when he bows his dark curls are tossed back in a wild fashion.

Steve’s stomach curls.

Steve stands awkwardly with Nancy’s family as they wait for her to reemerge with the rest of the cast. She comes out smiling, her stage makeup still on but now dressed in a pale pink sweater and jeans. She steps down off the stage and looks at everyone.

“Nancy!” Mrs. Wheeler gushes, “Honey, you were amazing. Who would have known we had our very own Judy Garland in the family?”

Nancy blushes and rolls her eyes, “Mom.”

“You did so good. Ted, wasn’t she amazing?” Mrs. Wheeler turns to Mr. Wheeler who looking at the floor.

He looks up lazily and says, “Yeah. Good job, Nancy.” Then he looks right back at the ground.

Mike rolls his eyes and steps forward, “Good job.”

Nancy smiles, “Thanks.”

“What did I tell you, Nance?” Steve interjects, “You are the perfect Juliet. Just wonderful.”

Nancy blinks her doe eyes at him and says, “Thank you, Steve.”

“Nancy,” Mrs. Wheeler says, “who was the boy who played Mercutio?”

“Oh, Eddie?” Nancy answers, “Wasn’t he just fantastic? He really brought everyone to life. He was offered the role of Romeo, but he really wanted to play Mercutio. And honestly, he was like born for it.”

Steve’s stomach burns with butterflies the second Eddie’s name drops into conversation. He puts his hands on his hips, hoping his face is as neutral as possible. He looks down at the dirty auditorium carpet.

“He really was incredible.” Mrs. Wheeler says, a slight sigh to her voice.

“Oh, there he is now. Eddie!” Nancy calls.

Steve jerks his head up and watches as Eddie Munson walks down the stage towards them. His hair is up in a messy bun now and he’s wearing a faded black t-shirt under a leather jacket. He has his hands tucked in the pockets of his acid wash jeans, which are skintight and Steve’s not sure how he even got his hands into the pockets. The closer he approaches Steve notices the eyeliner and gold glitter still cling to his face.

He comes down the stage steps and awkwardly stops beside Nancy. He nods and gives a small, “Nance.” He looks over at Mike, who gawks at him with a curious expression, before looking between Mrs. and Mr. Wheeler.

Mr. Wheeler gives him a completely open look of disgust.

Eddie smiles brightly at him and extends his hand, “Mr. Wheeler.”

Mr. Wheeler actively bites his tongue. Steve can see his jaw working as he quickly shakes Eddie’s hand. Mr. Wheeler sighs and walks off muttering something about going to the car and to hurry up.

Eddie smirks and then turns to Mrs. Wheeler. He extends his hand to her. She shakes his hand and warmly says, “You did a great job. You honestly had me in tears when you died.”

Eddie smiles.

Mike crosses his arms, “Mom, you were sobbing.”

Mrs. Wheeler chuckles, “Yeah, ok. You caught me. But it really was that good! You should consider pursuing acting professionally. I watch soap operas all the time and you could blow some of them out of the water even now.”

Steve thinks he sees a light blush on Eddie’s cheeks, but it quickly disappears as he mutters, “Thank you.”

Mrs. Wheeler beams and places a hand on Mike’s shoulder, “Come on Mike, let’s go before your dad has a fit. Nancy, we’ll see you at home?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be home in a bit.” Nancy smiles.

Mrs. Wheeler and Mike leave. And then Eddie turns to Steve.

He dips into a low bow and says dryly, “King Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes, “Nah, man. It’s –”

Eddie stands back up and tilts his head. He smiles, “I gotta go. But it was a pleasure. As always.” He looks at Nancy and winks, “Nancy.” He turns and just his chin out, but a smirk touches his lips, “Harrington.”

Steve watches him walk out of the auditorium, half listening as Nancy starts gushing about all the ways they can improve by the next performance.

Steve heads home after dropping Nancy off at her house. He’s greeted by silence and dark, cold rooms but he barely registers it.

He changes out of his polo and jeans, switching them for an old tee and pair of basketball shorts before flopping onto his bed. He stares up at the popcorn ceiling.

All he can think about is Eddie. Mercutio.

It’s a cruel joke. His mind keeps replaying the part when Eddie cupped Romeo’s cheek. His large hand gripping slightly at the tender flesh. Except in Steve’s mind, it’s not Gareth’s face. It’s his own.

Steve groans and throws an arm over his eyes.

This can’t be happening…

But even in the dark, his thoughts float back to Eddie pulling his lip into his mouth when their eyes met.

He gets out of bed and drops. Starts doing push-ups. Figures if he exhausts himself, he can’t think about what it would feel like to have Eddie cup his cheek and smirk at him. To have that ravaging baritone say his name. Over and over. To make Eddie moan in that pretty way but not for a high school play but because Steve drops to his knees and takes that small waist in his hands and…

Steve pushes harder against the stupid beige carpet, makes himself go faster as if the quicker he does the push-ups the faster he can outrun his thoughts.

Tears sting his eyes.

He keeps doing push-ups.

Steve wakes up in the early morning light. He rolls over onto his back and sighs. He fell asleep on his carpet. His neck is stiff, and his arms are sore.

He groans.

Steve tries to ignore the remnants of a dream. Ignores the butterflies waking up in his stomach and floating up towards his heart. The soft wings bushing against the thin membrane, trying to land and take hold. Ignores the ache in his throat, a desire to whisper a certain name out loud…

Steve goes to every performance. And Steve lies to himself, lies to everyone. But it’s only a half-lie. Of course, he’s there for Nancy. Of course, he is.

But he’s also there for Eddie…if he admits it to himself…

He’s there for the fleeting moments when Eddie looks out into the audience and meets his eyes. And every time he smirks. And every time he pulls his full bottom lip in between his teeth, releasing it in a fresh shade of red. Every time…

And Steve’s becoming obsessed with it. Dreads the final performance because that means he goes back to trying to see Eddie in the halls, which is harder than Steve realized. It means waiting for one of Eddie’s outbursts in the lunchroom and trying hard to remember to breathe, to look annoyed. It means trying not to act like he doesn’t feel adrift when he kisses Nancy instead of feeling full of light like he once did. Before this damn play…

This was way longer than I thought it would ever be. There will be a part 2 at some point. Thank you for reading!

[edge-of-the-end]

possibly my favourite thing about the rotpl finale is getting confirmation that lydia already knew she was gay. cynthia was going through such a time, and we finally know that lydia was actively protecting herself and in control of the whole situation. the rehearsal kisses? she instigated that with the knowledge that it wasn’t two straight girls, because she clocked cynthia from the get-go and still offered to kiss her for the play, because it was no commitment. she couldn’t be abandoned because the play already had a strict deadline. when cynthia ran away after the pre-play kiss, and avoided her at the dance, she knew she’d gone too far, and that she’d have to pull away and not talk to cynthia so that she could maintain the boundaries that would protect her from heartbreak again. the whole situation gains a whole extra layer because while cynthia might not have had the words to express who she was, lydia did, and the words were deviant and invert and sick, so of course the poor girl, this seventeen (maybe sixteen?) year old girl knew that the world wasn’t safe for her. despite all this, cynthia pulled it back. everywhere lydia hid behind behind femininity and long hair and theatricality, cynthia stuck out like a sore thumb, short haired and feisty and so butch without even knowing what it was, that overtness represented that hope, that the bit of lydia that was hiding could be a little freer. the glances that we see when the teacher suggests more rehearsals can turn into the active looking for each other that we see in the finale because that’s where the balance is, and it shows lydia that cynthia will never deny her. she will see her in public, around her friends, and will say she loves her to nancy, and that is what lydia needs. she spends so much time acting as these characters that she is virtually never herself, and in the hall of mirrors, surrounded by her own reflection, she gets to see that being who she is, a young lesbian in love, might be worth it. that the girl in the mirror, kissing cynthia, can exist and be happy.

[leslie057]

STRANGER THINGS’ JONATHAN AND NANCY as BAZ LUHRMANN’S ROMEO + JULIET (1996)

a beautifully strange reinterpretation of luhrmann’s modern adaptation centers on two lovesick teenagers who escape the horrors of verona, indiana through death and death alone…

[morrisonblossom]

sid and nancy

[queenie-ofthe-void]

I think one of the reasons I love Juliet O'Hara is because she's unapologetically feminine in a male-dominated field and that doesn't change the fact everyone around her knows she's a badass.

[mystikblues]

they say I’m too young to love u, they say I’m too dumb to see

[i-heart-astro]

Sun in Scorpio Moodboard ♏

"I am an Antichrist

And I am an anarchist

Don't know what I want

But I know how to get it

I wanna destroy the passerby

'Cause I

Wanna be

Anarchy

No dogsbody

Anarchy for the U.K.

It's coming sometime and maybe

I give a wrong time, stop a traffic line

Your future dream is a shopping scheme

'Cause I

I wanna be

Anarchy

In this city

How many ways to get what you want

I use the best

I use the rest

I use the enemy

I use anarchy"

Ruling Planet: PLUTO, MARS

Energy: FEMININE

Ruling House: 8th

Body Parts: GENITALS, REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEM

Dates: 23rd OCTOBER - 21st NOVEMBER

Element: WATER

Modality: FIXED

Follow for more content 💋

[doll-elvis]

I would love to know more about Elvis’s relationships/affairs with the actresses who starred in his movies. Many of them were close in age to him too but they’re rarely discussed except for like Ann Margret.

I do think Ann Margret is particularly special, therefore talked about more, but I totally agree that his other leading ladies/costars deserve some love also !! <3

here are some of my personal favorite offscreen romances// (names are in order of the photos) Yvonne Lime, Juliet Prowse, Joan Blackman, Anne Helm, Tuesday Weld, and Jane Elliot 🎀

and while Shelley Fabares and Nancy Sinatra both deny ever having a romantic relationship with him, I know that Elvis had a massive crush on Shelley (who played his leading lady more than anyone else) and there were definitely mutual feelings between him and Nancy 👀

and another girl that’s rarely talked about (who worked behind the camera as a wardrobe consultant) was the beautiful Nancy Sharp!! Elvis was very serious about her and he even flew to Missouri to meet her parents

[purplesimmer455]

The next day, Sunday, Stephanie and Riley* take their kids to Hanamigawa Koen. While Stephanie pushes Nancy on the swings, Riley keeps an eye on Haruo, who's excited by seeing the toddler slide and rushes to it with his parent chasing after him. Also, a random photo of Juliet walking by the park and looking really pretty in an outfit I'd given her for a simblreen post 2 or 3 years ago. 😄

[vyncentevelyn]

Update: I wrote Part 1.

I’m at work. And I will write this at some point, but I have to vent about it now. It may even appear in my longer work. Who knows. But anyway…

I’d say we’re post S1. So Steve and Nancy are already kind of on the rocks. And in this version Nancy decides to try out for the school play, Romeo & Juliet.

She of course gets the role of Juliet.

But our Eddie, well he was born to play Mercutio.

And just imagine Steve going to see Nancy play Juliet but then is just captivated by Mercutio.

And like he knows who Eddie Munson is but it’s the first time he sees him as not just a dealer, not just “The Freak.”

And after opening night, Steve goes home and he can’t sleep. He stares at his ceiling. Tries to forget about the older boy in red stage lighting, smirking before he challenges Tybalt. And only falling asleep after he gets out of bed and forces himself to do push ups until he exhausts himself.

And Steve tries to tell himself he’s just being a good boyfriend when he attends every performance. Tells himself and anyone else, he’s there for Nancy. (Of course, he’s there for Nancy.) But he can’t ignore the way he waits in nervous anticipation for the scenes with Mercutio.

The way his stomach somersaults every time Eddie saunters onto the stage. The way his heartbeat picks up during his scenes. How blush blooms across his cheeks and down his neck when Eddie scans the audience and locks eyes with him at least once during every show. How goosebumps rise on his arms every time Eddie’s voice drops to a ravaging baritone to deliver the lines, “Why the devil came you between us? I was hurt under your arm…” How he wishes he could be Romeo when Eddie cups the actor’s cheek just before he exits the stage…

[seeinganewlight]

*runs in* friend I have an idea!!! What would be a Nancy Drew’s character favorite character and scene in &Juliet?

ohhhhhh i love this.

okay, bess is an & juliet girlie! i think she would definitely be interested in shakespeare/romeo and juliet already, and she would just eat this show up! i think that the rest of them would definitely listen to the show to be supportive (and bess would make them. she'd probably play the cast recording during game nights and while working at the claw), and i think ace would end up genuinely liking it because he sees how happy it makes bess, so he gets used to listening to it with her and talking to her about it.

i think bess would just love juliet's arc throughout the show --- seeing her take control of her life, own her power, and decide things for herself on her own terms. bess would feel very connected to juliet's story, and would probably find a lot of comfort and strength in it. i think that bess would really love all the female character arcs as they're all about being true to yourself and living your life on your own terms.

bess would absolutely LOVE may and frankie! she'd totally be squealing during the iambic pentameter scene before "i kissed a girl" and "whataya want from me?" would make her cry (me and bess are the same). i also think that "shape of my heart" would really strike a chord in her -- seeing lance tell his son that he loves him no matter what and accepting him for who he is and who he loves would mean a lot to her in light of her family situation. (additionally, ace would remind her that even if her family doesn't accept her, the crew does and they're her family and they wouldn't change anything about her and then she'd have another good cry)

[hallmark-movie-fanatics]

[bibliollama]

Stacking the Shelves #13

Stacking The Shelves is a meme hosted by Reading Reality all about sharing the books you are adding to your shelves, may it be physical or virtual. This means you can include books you buy in physical store or online, books you borrow from friends or the library, review books, gifts and of course ebooks! I’ve been intentionally not picking any new books up for a couple of weeks, because I once…

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, responding to a fan on a live-stream: Steve and I have been together for forever. We’re like… *trying to come up with a famous couple but can only think of Sid and Nancy*

Steve: Romeo and Juliet…except we didn’t kill each other

Eddie: They don’t kill each other.

Steve: Uh, pretty sure they did.

Eddie:

Eddie: Am I-

Steve: You’re not Romeo. Only one of us can climb a balcony and it’s not you.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 5

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4

Eddie’s just dropped his response in the requested copy of Romeo and Juliet. He’d looked furtively around the library, trying to see if anyone was paying him an abnormal level of attention.

No one even looks up.

There’s a mousy girl in the corner reading a comic book, some band girl muttering to herself as she frantically pulls books off the shelf, and Nancy Wheeler writing, fast enough that Eddie’s surprised the lead of her pencil doesn’t snap clean off.

Could it be her?

Eddie squints at her, trying to look past her frizzy hair and prissy face to what must be hidden underneath. Before he finds any clarity, she looks up from the page in front of her, already scowling before she meets Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie startles, damn-near sprinting out of the library, his smoker’s lungs wheezing hard enough to damn-near expel themselves from his lungs.

No way in hell is it Wheeler—she’s way too scary, and besides, no one’s ever accused her of being an athlete. That band girl, maybe? She looked feisty enough to kick ass at organized sports-ball.

The secret’s burning a hole through his heart and he wants, no, needs, to tell someone.

Eddie feels deranged with it, almost manic as he rushes to find someone, anyone, he can talk to. Hell, right now he’d take Hagan if he didn’t think the dude would punch him in the face.

Luckily, he smacks into Gareth before anything gets that dire. The kid’s obviously rushing through the parking lot to catch the bus before it leaves without him, stranding him at the school before the weekend can truly start.

“Dude—”  he stutters out as Eddie latches onto both of his shoulders and begins shaking him about. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

Gareth smacks him off, and Eddie stumbles back, almost buzzing with the frenetic energy built up from weeks of getting love letters in his locker and not being able to tell a soul. Eddie grabs onto him again and just keeps shaking, lest his soul quiver right out of his body. “I can’t keep it in anymore, man,” Eddie says, and he can tell from the bug-eyed look on the other boy’s face that he’s not picking up what Eddie’s putting down. “I’ve gotten four letters, Gare-Bear, four!”

He enunciates the last word with an even harder shake until Eddie can hear his teeth clack together. Gareth makes an unholy noise, like a cat submerged in bathwater, and damn-near claws Eddie’s face off in his attempts to get away. Eddie ends up standing in the parking lot, still holding the shoulders of Gareth’s flannel up despite there no longer being a body in it.

“And each one is sweeter than the last!” Eddie cries, maliciously dropping the flannel into a puddle.

Gareth squawks, bending down to scoop his outerwear up from the ground and twist it until some of the water sops out of it and back to the pavement from whence it came. He’s not looking at Eddie at all. God, he knew he should have picked Doug.

“So, why are you telling me about it?” Gareth gripes.

Left unspoken, but patently obvious between them, is that Jeff, Eddie’s usual secret keeper, is entirely absent. Eddie twirls one of his own curls, bringing it up to shield the blush that’s no doubt blooming on his face as he admits, “Jeff would make fun of me.”

Besides, Jeff’s been weird all day, eyes darting away from Eddie’s like he’s got some sort of disease that might be catching.

He doesn’t want to talk to Jeff right now.

Giving it up as a bad job, Gareth slings his sopping flannel over one shoulder with the beleaguered sigh of a single mother and finally meets Eddie’s eyes.

“Dude,” he says, voice that of someone delivering a deadly blow. “I’m going to make fun of you.”

Eddie can feel himself pouting, does absolutely nothing to try to stop it as he mutters, “knew I should’ve confided in Hagan,” too quietly for Gareth to hear.

“Now, where are these stupid letters?”

Eddie throws his hands up and takes two showily large steps back as he declares, “well, I’m not going to show you now!”

“Oh, Jeff,” Gareth calls, all sing-songy and sly.

Eddie lunges forward to slam his palm over Gareth’s mouth even though Jeff had disappeared from the school long ago. With his hands so close already, he’s hard-pressed to stop himself from wringing Gareth’s scrawny neck.

Before he knows it, Eddie finds himself settled in his room, the letters strewn about Eddie’s unmade bed.

Gareth reads them all; he laughs at all the parts that are sweetest, and despite being born an only child, Eddie can feel himself developing one hell of a Cain instinct. Maybe Cain was actually a cool guy, and Abel drove him to it with his incessant wheedling.

Eddie wouldn’t know; he’s never read the bible.

“Dude, she’s a jock?” Gareth asks, peering down at the letter with a level of glee Eddie’s never seen on the other boy’s face.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Eddie asks, taking sadistic enjoyment in the way Gareth’s nose wrinkles with disgust. He rips—gently!—the letter out of Gareth’s hands and gathers them all back together, intent to hide them from any more prying eyes.

“I was reading that!”

“Girls can do sports,” Eddie replies snootily, tucking the letters away beneath his pillow. “And besides, there’s always cheerleaders.”

All that does is make Gareth start laughing again. “You think you can bag a cheerleader?”

He raises his hand threateningly, one wrong word from smacking that look off his face, the way Eddie’s dad had always threatened. “Do you want to walk home?” Eddie demands.

Eddie’s doubtful it was the threat that got Gareth to stop laughing—they both know they’ll spend the rest of the evening eating stale cereal and watching whatever’s on TV before falling asleep in Eddie’s small bed—but the silence is still welcome.

It lasts a solid three seconds before Gareth asks, “you’re not afraid it’s all a joke?”

Eddie’s going to kill him.

***

The day’s been long despite Steve, Chrissy, and Jeff all skipping first period. Still, nothing could stop him from taking precious time out of his weekend to pick up any notes Eddie might have written.

It’s becoming normal now, to skulk behind Chrissy through the library as she picks up notes. What’s that saying about the third time being a pattern? And there, tucked reverently into a copy of Romeo and Juliet—Chrissy’s idea, not his—is an envelope with Secret Admirer written across it in bold, cursive font. Like Eddie’d gone out and gotten a quill and ink pot just for the occasion.

The ink’s so black, it still looks wet, but when Steve caresses the letters, they don’t even smudge. They both stare down at it where it’s still clutched between Chrissy’s fingers. Chrissy, ever the good friend, waits for his next move.

“Want to come over?” he asks, tired of impersonal whispers in quiet libraries. He wants a girl’s night, the way he and Carol used to before she’d started dating Tommy and everything had gotten so stilted. “I can paint your nails.”

Chrissy doesn’t even hesitate. She’s beaming as she puts the envelope carefully into her book bag, grabs his arm, and drags him out of the room.

She doggedly follows his car all the way home to his big empty house, her headlights beaming light and warmth straight into his heart.

The porch light’s on in front of his house, a beacon leading him home from his rapidly darkening driveway. He always leaves it on, something about its cheerful light making his dark house seem more welcoming, even more so now that he’s got a friend parking her car right behind his.

He’s glad not to get run out of town, but more than that, he’s grateful that it was all just a mistake, that he doesn’t need to let another friendship fizzle out into nothing.

“Are your parents home?” she asks as she bounces out of her car and up to his side.

“Almost never,” Steve replies, not turning back to her, unwilling to see the expression on her face as he leads her to the front door and ushers her inside once it’s unlocked. 

He slides his shoes off, and she copies his movements before following him up the stairs. They settle onto his bed, and he’s tempted to make a wise-crack about what boyfriends and girlfriends usually do in beds, but he’s a little afraid she might slap him, so all he says is, “did you bring it?”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, “of course I brought it.”

She’s already made herself comfortable laying on her stomach, but she dutifully reaches toward the ground to rifle through her bag and pull the envelope that’s been burning a hole in it free. Steve descends on it like a drowning man on land.

He lays on his stomach beside her, tempted to kick his feet and twirl his hair as he slots his finger into the envelope and opens it with the precision born from years of practice opening his parents’ mail.

It’s only as he pulls the tab open that he notices it’s not an envelope at all. Eddie had cleverly folded the note he’d written into the shape of an envelope, tucking the tab into it to keep it closed. He smooths the creases out and devours the words.

       Secret Admirer,

       I want to learn everything about you– the color of your eyes, how your lips curve when you smile, how soft your hands are, the sound of your laughter. But more than that, I want to know what you love, along with all of your deepest wants and needs. You’ve piqued my curiosity with your scant answers. I can’t help but want more.

       Unfortunately, there’s not enough room on the page for the unrelenting number of questions flooding my mind. I know the point of being a secret admirer is that it’s a secret, but I hope that if you really do like me, you won’t stay secret for long.

       I came up with a game I think could be fun! I’ve filled mine out already, for you to keep. Recopy it onto a separate sheet and return it with your next note. That way I get to keep your answers and you can have mine. I also wrote little notes on the back for some of them. I couldn’t help myself.

       Yours,

       Eddie

And there, tucked behind the envelope is a notecard, Eddie’s usual sloppy handwriting covering it with that same, black ink. But he’s circled his answers in red, and added little numbers next to some of them.

       ||Rock or Pop 1 || Board Games or Sports Games 2 || Early Bird or Night Owl || Reading Or TV || Big Spoon or Little Spoon 3 || Outer Space or The Ocean 4 || Art or History || Alcohol or Weed 5 || Cats or Dogs || Holding Hands or First Kiss 6 || Winter or Summer || Grease or Star Wars || Gold or Silver || Halloween or New Year’s Eve || Vampires or Werewolves 7 || Drive-In or Movie Theater || Back Seat or Under the Bleachers 8 || Cuddling or Dancing || Slides or Swings 9 ||

Steve flips it over and finds more little numbers in red, each with a corresponding blurb.

       1. Pop is fun if you’re into that, but nothing beats a good guitar riff.

       2. I know you’re into sports, sweetheart, but come on, board games are the obvious winner.

       3. If you prefer being the big spoon, I’m willing to compromise <3

       4. If you pick the ocean, then you’re braver than me! That’s a body of water you can’t even see the bottom of! How are you cool with that?

       5. If you know me, and it really seems like you do, then my answer here is obvious.

       6. I bet you’ve got really nice hands, sweetheart. Would love to feel them in mine someday.

       7. Werewolves are cool, too, but come on, vampires fit my aesthetic way better.

       8. Under the bleachers would probably be cool, too, but my van’s a lot warmer (does that count as a backseat?)

       9. I was always that kid who would go down the slide and pretend there was a dragon chasing me, what about you?

Steve smiles down at the card and all the secrets it holds.

“Aww, that’s so cute!” Chrissy says.

Steve, for the first time, gets the inexplicable urge to hide Eddie’s words behind his hands. He doesn’t because that would be insane, and also she’s already seen it. So, all he says is, “help me respond?”

She does.

       Eddie —

       I don’t love like you do, not so easily and with my whole heart. But I love my best friend, and I like a whole lot more—hopefully that’s enough.

       I’m just as greedy for answers as you are. I want to write all your answers down on flash cards, study them like you might test me on them. If you do, I’m determined to get an A+.

       I hope my own answers satisfy, even if they don’t include my face, my smile, or my name. But my eyes? They’re brown, but nowhere near as pretty as yours. I could fall into your eyes and die happy.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. This time, put your reply in The Anatomy and Physiology textbook, right next to the diagram of the human heart.

Chrissy tears up at the bit about his best friend, but luckily doesn’t comment, just keeps spinning his yarn into gold. She dutifully re-writes the answer card as well, letting Steve circle his own answers with her pretty pink pen as she peers over her shoulder.

“It’s kind of funny how many of your answers are opposites,” Chrissy says, once they’re done.

Steve frowns, staring between both cards. She’s right; between all the questions, they’ve got three in common: they both chose holding hands over first kisses, drive-ins over movie theaters, and cuddling over dancing.

It’s not much to build a relationship on.

“Yeah, funny,” Steve replies, trying for chill but his voice comes out all wrong.

“Steve?” Chrissy asks, sounding hesitant herself now. “None of that matters, you know that right?”

Steve doesn’t respond; he’s too busy looking between each filled-out card, debating whether changing some of his answers might be for the best.

As if she can sense his thoughts, Chrissy snatches them both from his hands.

“Hey!”

He goes to snatch them back, but she’s pushed them behind her, glare fierce enough to give him pause. “None of that matters,” she says, voice firm. “You really think whether you like gold or silver better is a deal-breaker for a relationship?”

She’s right, that’s not what’s doomed this whole thing before it’s even started—it’s Steve. Steve, who’s a boy, and a jock, and not very bright.

He’s always the problem.

“You hear me, Steve?” Chrissy asks. She’s leaning toward him now, eyes blazing with a conviction he doesn’t quite understand. “You’re perfect just the way you are, okay?”

His throat’s all clogged up so he just nods, looking down at her hands where they’re clutching tightly enough to his comforter that the beds of her nails turn pink, and her knuckles bleach white.

She’s got thin, pretty fingers, and jagged nails. These are the hands that can write letters Eddie will want to read; it’s got nothing to do with silver, or gold, or any of that shit.

It’s Steve.

“Did you really want to paint my nails?” Chrissy asks, biting her lip and not meeting his eyes.

Steve’s up off the bed in an instant, ready for the distraction she’s handed him. He rifles around in the bathroom and comes back with a crate of nail polish which he immediately shoves into her chest with enough gusto that she makes a little oof! noise.

“Pick your poison,” Steve says, watching as her eyes grow wider with every new color she picks up.

“You have so many,” she breathes, touching the small glass bottles almost reverently before picking up a pale pink color that suits her. “What about this one?”

She looks so unsure, like his opinion on her choice of nail polish is the most important thing in the world. Steve’s heart squeezes beneath his ribcage. “‘course, Chris.”

He settles onto the bed, legs criss-crossed. He waits for Chrissy to match his pose before grabbing her hand. She curls her fingers into a fist, a breath shuddering out of her before she forces her hand back open.

Steve doesn’t comment on the ragged state her nails are in. He just grabs a nail file from the crate and smooths them down as best he can. He buffs her nails out before finally grabbing her chosen color and gives the bottle a shake.

The first coat goes on quick, Chrissy watching each flick of the brush like it’s fascinating.

“You’re really good at this,” she says, sounding shocked.

Steve presses her hands down on the bed to keep them still as the first coat dries. “Thanks,” he replies, still not looking up at her. “I used to do Carol’s like every week.”

There’s a silence in the room now that feels one step to the left of stilted. He doesn’t know what to do about it, so he picks up her hand and blows on the nails like that will speed anything up at all.

“Can I do yours next?”

At that, Steve finally looks up from Chrissy’s nails to meet her eyes. She’s biting her lip, cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment.

“Do you want to?” Steve asks.

No one’s ever painted his nails before, not even Carol. But in the face of Chrissy’s earnest, nervous expression, he can’t say no.

That’s how he finds himself at school on Monday with bright yellow nail polish painted on each of his fingers, the edges already chipped from where he couldn’t stop himself from picking at it.

No one says a thing.

PART 6

[klausinamarink]

You’re Never Too Much

rating: T | cw: negative self talk | wc: 1.5k | tags: angst with happy ending, hurt Steve, arguing and making up, established relationship, post-canon | prompt: Love is giving them space when they need it

written for @steddielovemonth

Steve knows he can be unbearable with his partners sometimes. 

He can’t help it. He doesn’t have a switch that shuts down the sparkling fountain of love like his parents apparently possess. It just naturally flows his veins without pause and surges anew every day.

His first girlfriend Heidi had broken up with him three days into the relationship, saying that Steve was too much for her. He had been more confused than devastated back then because since when did hugging your girlfriend from behind with a kiss to the cheek become ‘too much’? It only confused Steve more when he saw Heidi’s new boyfriend doing the exact same thing with her and they’d been together for three months by then.

Steve had ignored the tiny pang in his chest, shrugged off Carol’s comments, and moved on. Maybe he and Heidi weren’t meant to be anyways.

But it kept happening with the other girls. Leaving romantic poems in the locker instead of make-out invites? Too much. A bundle of flowers after class? Too much. Wanting to cuddle after sex? Too much. Stay the morning after? Too much.

Then came Nancy and she had adored every one of Steve’s antics that none of his previous girlfriends had liked. He quickly made his own schedule of sneaking into her bedroom late in the evening to help her study because he loved her blush and the bright gleam in her eyes. The day when Nancy told him that he was a dork was the day when Steve felt his heart swell because finally, he wasn’t being too much. 

And then Barb disappeared and monsters turned out to be real.

Nancy stayed with him but it wasn’t the same anymore. She would still laugh at his corny jokes and affirmations but Steve had seen her distant eyes, no longer bright with the same love. Like she had managed to switch it off by herself.

Steve should’ve split up with her. But he didn’t want to be an asshole and leave her miserable with no support who knew nothing about the Upside Down. But she hadn’t pushed him away or told him his efforts were too much. So he stayed.

If he had left sooner, then Steve wouldn't have been told in a stranger’s bathroom that his love wasn’t just too much, they were bullshit instead.

He couldn’t trust himself with another romantic partner after that.

And then about two years later, he and Eddie started dating. 

Everything that Steve had been told was ‘too much’ or ‘bullshit’ became ‘give me more’. More lazy kisses in the morning, more cuddles on the couch, more help with the laundry or dishes, more lovemaking, more, more.

Steve also found out real quick that Eddie loved whenever Steve quoted Shakespeare - especially Romeo and Juliet or Much Ado About Nothing - for no reason except to watch his boyfriend turn and scream delightfully into his own shoulder. Of course, Steve had taken his advantage, dialing it up with the Harrington charm just to make Eddie’s face redder. Whenever he thought that was too much, Eddie turned back around and kissed him with stupid smiles on both of their faces.

For a while, Steve had thought he finally found the perfect partner.

But he forgets that he doesn’t know how to shut his heart down.

—

Steve casually leans against the living room wall, acting totally non-suspicious as hides from view of the front door. He hears it swing open and then Eddie coming inside, the metallic clicking of his crane accompanying his steps. Steve waits just a bit longer until Eddie makes his way to the kitchen. Then he hurries around the corner and giddily wraps his arms around Eddie’s torso, lifting the man up.

“Welcome back-” Steve starts, a petname ready to fall out as he’s ready to bemoan his loneliness. But Eddie’s cold tone makes his jaws instantly clamp shut.

“Put me down.”

Steve obeys, swiftly but carefully as not to agitate Eddie’s leg. He keeps his arms around his boyfriend, squeezing just once in what he hopes comes off as assuring. However, Eddie only stiffens and says in the same cold tone-

“Let me go.”

Steve does. Eddie continues on towards the kitchen, not even glancing over once. Anxiety starts to drill into Steve’s spine, already making its way into the lining of his stomach. Something clearly happened to Eddie that’s putting him in a foul mood.

Tailing after him, Steve finally finds his voice and asks, “Is everything okay?”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He plops down onto a chair, burying his face in his hands. His shoulders are starting to shake. The anxiety shifts into concern as Steve hurries over to his side. “Eds-”

Eddie suddenly slams his hands onto the table, startling Steve back. He whips his head around to glare at Steve, yelling, “Is it too much to leave me alone for one minute?!”

Too much.

Steve swallows the thick lump in his throat, mumbles something he hopes is an apology, and stumbles outside to the backyard. He stares at the pool for a second before he quickly rounds to the side of his house, stopping just along the walls where he always felt the sunlight wouldn’t reach. Steve slowly crouches down to the ground, staring at nothing in particular despite the burning pressure behind his eyes and heart.

He should’ve seen this coming. Actually, he had known the day when Eddie finally had enough of his unbearable actions was approaching soon. They’ve been together for nearly a year. Just as long as Steve had with Nancy before that Halloween party. But Steve’s been living in blissful ignorance, hoping that it wouldn’t happen.

But even that had been too much.

A wet laugh bubbles out of his lips and Steve quickly clamps a hand over it. He feels like a kid, hiding behind his house like he’s avoiding his father instead of Eddie. It’s so stupid but very on-brand.

He lets the tears drop, forcing his hand to remain on his mouth so he can stay quiet. He doesn’t want to upset Eddie anymore.

Crunching stones under shoes approach. Steve doesn’t even look up when he hears a sucking of breath and Eddie’s murmuring voice, “Shit, Stevie.”

Calloused, ringed hands gently cup both sides of his face. Steve barely catches himself from sinking into the grasp. It’s always too easy to enjoy the feeling of Eddie’s hands on his cheeks. Was it too much for Eddie as well?

“Stevie, please look at me.”

Despite his brain screaming at him no, Steve does so. Eddie’s eyes are bloodshot red and tracks of tears practically shine on his face. In another scenario, he would look as beautiful as ever. But instead, he looks like shit.

Eddie’s fingers tap on his hand, the one still clamping over his mouth. Steve shakes his head quickly. He doesn’t want to break down into a sobbing mess and demand Eddie’s comfort.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie rasps out, a line of spittle popping out of his mouth. His voice sounds rough like he had just cried. “I’m so sorry, Steve, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Work was-” He closes his eyes, shudders out another breath, and opens them again. “What happened at work wasn’t an excuse and never should be. Even if I was exhausted and upset, I shouldn’t have lashed out. I wish I could take those words back, baby.”

Steve finally removes his hand, managing to speak coherent words just before the sobbing finally breaks out. “Am I too much though?”

He catches the horrified expression before Eddie suddenly pulls him forward into a tight embrace.

“You’re never too much, sweetheart. You’re just fucking perfect.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear, clear as day.

Steve doesn’t know how they spend kneeling on the ground as his entire body rattles out from crying while Eddie keeps holding him and occasionally gently shushing Steve. Eventually, Steve’s eyes dry out and he feels so tired that he just wants to tuck himself into bed and sleep.

Eddie helps him up and guides him back inside the house. They linger at the foot of the stairs, both of them realizing the same thing.

“Do you… want me to sleep with you still?” Eddie asks softly. He hasn’t let his hand go from Steve’s where it occasionally squeezes around his fingers. It fixes something in Steve’s heart but it’s barely enough to soothe the ache over.

“I-” Steve cuts himself off. Eddie looks at him earnestly, his brown eyes appearing to grow bigger with the still-there shining tears. Steve sighs and continues, “I think I want.. space. Just for tonight.”

Eddie nods, pursing his lips. “So do I. I think that’ll be good for tonight.”

“You won’t leave?” It hurts Steve to ask even though his gut is certain that Eddie will rather chew his hand off than leave.

“I’ll still be here.” Eddie raises a hand up with a small smile. “Especially in the morning when we’re rested and less pissed-off.”

Steve smiles back, “Okay.”

And when the morning does come, Eddie’s still here. When they talk and apologize, Eddie tells Steve again that he never thought of Steve as an unbearable boyfriend.

It makes Steve feel warm from the overflow of Eddie’s love.