bones and spock both strike me as people who are likely to skip breakfast in the morning. they both know better, of course, but some habits are hard to kick. maybe it’s morning nausea, maybe they’re trying to squeeze just a bit more work into their day - who knows
they both notice, however, that jim seems to be a bit twitchier on the days where spock skips breakfast to go to the labs for a bit before reporting to the bridge. or mornings where bones shows up just to have some coffee and nothing else. it’s not super noticeable, they probably only notice because they pay a Lot of attention to him, but he’s just a bit jumpier, a bit more distracted
maybe they discuss it with each other, maybe they both notice it independently. maybe it’s something they noticed about him even before the 5 year mission, but just really fell into place after they semi-established their breakfast routine. he’s usually fine after lunch anyways, and he doesn’t generally get like that if they just skip lunch or dinner. spock tested this, of course. logically.
so it’s probably not worth worrying about; just a weird little quirk of their captain’s. but they start trying to be a bit better about making themselves eat at least an apple or something with jim before work every morning. it seems to get better, and the new habit is mostly sticking, so they kinda stop thinking about it
that doesn’t last, of course. ‘conscience of the king’ happens. they learn about jim and kodos and tarsus, and now all of a sudden the prospect of jim being in a weird mood whenever the two of them skip breakfast seems to be a much higher priority.
because if they skip breakfast, jim has no way of knowing for certain if they’ve eaten anything until at least lunch - if not dinner, if they’re too busy to have a proper lunch break together. jim, who probably regularly went without food to make absolutely sure that kevin riley and the others had something to eat, because making sure everyone else is okay is far more important to him.
i don’t think they really talk about it, after. at least not for another few years. but they stop skipping breakfast.
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I can't go back to sleep until I write Umemiya pining after a girl who's busier than he is apparently so. I didn't really proofread sorry! :P
The first time he meets you, you literally fall into his arms. Not in the romantic way though, you're just running so fast that when you stumble, trying to skew your direction enough that you don't hurt him, he's fumbling to catch you. The box of books your trying to bring to the library donation box scatters and you're in the most awkward hold ever. "Sorry, really should've watched where I was going," you tell him, out of breath and sweaty. He tries to help you pick up the books but you wave his hand off, before saying a quick goodbye and heading off. He laughs about it later, remembering your hair completely disheveled from the fall and the way you went back to running to the library even though he's sure it's not going anywhere anytime soon.
He ends up asking more people about you, finding out more about you from them, than he's able to glean from his rare run-ins with you. You're as active in the community as he is, just in different ways. Walking a bunch of younger kids to school in the morning because they have to cross a busy street and the school hasn't been able to cover the crossing guard position just yet or helping run the fundraiser for a local shop's owner who's sick, your schedule is packed even when you don't plan for it to be.
Everyone can see him getting a stupidly goofy look on his face as he calls out a quick greeting seeing you on your way somewhere. The first time he sees you tired he's nervous immediately. It's totally normal, given how much you do, but the hunch in your shoulders and sluggish way you're eating the food at Pothos has his stomach turning. He's considering asking Hiragi for stomach medicine now. When you go to leave he's grabbing the fabric of your sleeve gently tugging, a little unsure if you'd be against him grabbing your hand. He's a gentle guy, but no one's seen him treat anyone that delicately before.
"I know you're busy, but could you make time for me?" He's asking, and you misunderstand his concern for you as him really needing help with something, shooting a text to the people you were supposed to meet. You agree and he leads you to the school rooftop, giving you a brief tour.
"What did you need help with again?" You ask, yawning into your hands.
"Ah..." He trails off because he didn't need help but he figures you must've thought that when he asked for your time. "Ya see this hammock over here? I'm trying to figure out if I need to get a new one! Could you try it out for me?" He figures trying to explain that he just wanted to spend time with you might go over your head, so making up an excuse is the best bet, not to mention he might be able to get you to rest.
You're not fazed in the slightest, having been asked weirder favors. "Yeah, it's not gonna fall over or anything, right?" It'd suck to lay down only to end up face first on concrete.
"No no! It's completely safe I promise!" And he's relieved when he finally sees you lie down. It's insanely comfortable too. You start melting into it, pretty sure at this point you're gonna be glued to it forever. "Comfy?" He smiles, knowing for a fact that it is.
"Mm," you mumbled a little out of it. If you don't get up soon you might just fall asleep.
"Think there's room for two? I heard checking that it can handle it's weight limit is important," He says nearly laughing at such an easily seen through excuse, knowing you're probably too tired to even register his logic. Patting the side, you scoot over a bit, waiting for him to lie down too. "O-oh no I was kidding-,"
"Umemiya," and the way you're saying his name, a little gruff from exhaustion has his hear pounding in his ears. You pat the side harder, punctuating your silent demand. It's a tight squeeze next to him, but not entirely uncomfortable, noting how big he actually is next to you. "Think you need a bigger one," you say practically in his neck due to your positions, setting his nerves on fire. Is it hot up here? He's sweating a little, feeling a flush climbing up his neck to his ears. You go quiet, and as he looks over you're fast asleep, starting to drool on his shoulder a bit, chest rising and falling softly.
He's the human equivalent of an exclamation point now, unable to actually move to get off unless he wants to wake you up, which is currently unthinkable. He's able to get his phone out though, and is texting Hiragi in incomprehensible strings of text all in caps, an excess of emojis flying into the chat. Thankfully, Hiragi's had years of experience translating what Ume's trying to say, and when he gets the gist he's thrilled. He hopes they stay up there all day, and his stomach eases reflexively at the though of his leader tied up and unable to cause any trouble. Umemiya gets a quick text back in acknowledgement saying Hiragi'll make sure no one comes up to the roof for the afternoon.
Eventually, after calming down his giddiness, he also end up passing out, getting the best, yet sweatiest sleep of his life. He also ends up with a nasty sunburn on his arm that fell into a patch of sunlight on the side of the hammock, but thinks it's very much worth it when you panic and start massaging aloe into it. Once you wake up, you realize his ply was to get you to rest all along and you're thankful for it asking if you could borrow his hammock again sometime. He's nearly tripping over himself trying to explain that you could come here every day and it wouldn't be a problem, in fact it'd be amazing if you did because he could show you how his garden is doing and introduce you to everyone and, and, and. He's got you giggling with the enthusiasm, before you shake your head saying once a week probably works better. "Maybe tuesdays?" you ask and he agrees, obviously please. "It's a date then." You say, grabbing your stuff before asking him to show you the way back to the front of the school.
He nearly has a heart attack at the word 'date' but for the rest of the week, he's so excited it's annoying, eventually a flustered Sakura yelling at Ume to "Shut up about your girlfriend" and he does. For about 1 minute.
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Steddie Week 2024 | Steddie Microfic
July 7th prompt: Free Space - Mystery, Hands, Long, Trade, Exes to Lovers or Getting Back Together, Drunken Confession (aka I combined all the prompts I didn’t use this week) | July prompt: one
Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6
Word count: 1,111
No warnings apply
Rated T
@steddie-week | @steddiemicrofic
It was never a mystery, to Steve, how they got together. How they worked together.
The only mystery is how he managed to let him go—to lose him in a way Steve hadn’t understood until Eddie. Because Nancy was great, she was fantastic, Steve was in love. He doesn’t doubt that. But it never felt like it did with Eddie: low lights in the club, hands on each other’s bodies, open-mouth kisses that really was nothing more than them panting into each other’s mouths—
Stumbling into the bathroom, or into either of their bedrooms, hands in hair and under shirts and unbuckling belts—
Sleepy, slow morning kisses. Breakfast. Holidays.
How did it end?
Steve thinks, remembers fists clenched at sides, red faces, stiff shoulders.
Remembers shouted words, cold shoulders, slammed doors.
Remembers the key left on the kitchen counter.
That had done it, he remembers, he had called Robin, already sobbing, and she was on her bike and halfway there practically before she had hung up the phone. She’d held him as he fell apart on the kitchen tiles.
Then again, when he went to go to bed. Saw the two pillows. Threw one off; it hit the wall, slid down. Had to change the sheets; they smelled too much like him.
It took him a long time—a really long time—to get to the point he’d be okay on his own for more than a couple hours, to the point he could go out to clubs again. Not the same ones he’d gone to, never those, but… he moved on. Kind of.
He knew, and Robin knew, that part of him, at least, would always love Eddie.
It’s why when they’re in a club—a new one they had just found, okay music but better drinks and prospects—and Steve grabs her arm, she looks the direction he is.
He feels like he’s swallowing sandpaper. “His hair is longer.”
“It is.” She pries his fingers off, just so he’s not bruising her anymore, but holds his hand. “What do you want to do about it?”
“I don’t know,” he mutters, watches the way Eddie prowls through the crowd, smirking at people, but still definitely on his way to the bar.
The bar. “I’m gonna get us more drinks,” he says. They both ignore the fact that they’ve barely touched their current glasses.
“Let me know if you need backup.”
“Will do.” He looks at her, for the first time since seeing him, and smiles. “Love you, Robbie.”
She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Love you, dingus. Go get your man back.”
Steve makes it to the bar before Eddie, asks for whatever is on tap. Looks away at the wall. Can’t watch him walk up.
“Long Island,” he hears directly beside him, and turns to see Eddie turning to see Steve.
He takes a breath. “Eddie.”
Eddie looks… he looks good, because he always does, but he looks tired, maybe a little thinner. Not… not good, not happy like he was. He swallows. “Steve.”
The bartender hands over their drinks, and Steve takes a sip only to cough. “Sorry, fuck,” he mutters, finally looking at the glass in his hand. He’s got the Long Island, and Eddie’s got his beer.
Eddie’s watching him with an interesting little smile. “Trade?”
“Trade,” Steve agrees, nodding. He coughs again. “God, how do you like that?”
Eddie snickers, pulls a lock of hair over his face. Steve wishes he wouldn’t.
Miraculously, they keep talking. They’re never searching for the next word to make the silence go away because there is no silence.
Eventually Robin comes up to him, pulls him into a hug. “Imma go home with that girl,” she murmurs, pointing behind her. A cute, preppy-looking blonde smiles nervously at Steve. He smiles at her, then back to Robin. “Of course. Call the house, give me the address.” He kisses her forehead. “Have fun.”
“Oh, I will,” she grins, then turns to look at Eddie, eyes narrowed.
Eddie gulps. She grins, scary as anything, and whispers something in his ear that has him paling. “Yuh-yep. Yeah. Got it. Thanks Robin.”
Steve grimaces when she walks away. “What did she say?”
Eddie looks at him for a long minute. “Something I’ve known for a while now,” he eventually murmurs.
It was inevitable, really, that they would end up back here, hands in hair and under shirts, stumbling into Steve’s apartment, panting into each other’s mouths, trying to undo buckles by memory because the worst thing in the world right now would be to stop kissing.
“God, Steve,” Eddie gasps, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon- c’mon, please, need you, need you-”
“Yeah,” Steve answers against his mouth, just as affected. He’s got his own pants halfway off, thinking about his shirt next, thinking about the lube in the drawer that hasn’t gotten as much action as it used to, and suddenly he aches for it. “Need you inside me,” he mutters, kissing down Eddie’s neck, stopping at a place behind his ear that he knows from experience makes Eddie’s knees weak.
“Fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Yeah, yeah, c’mon, c’mon baby, lemme in you- lube’s in the drawer?”
Steve opens the drawer in answer, roots around until his fingers close on the bottle. Pushes it into Eddie’s hand, pushes him away so Steve can get naked.
Eddie’s eyes rake along his body. He drops his own pants just as fast, limbs flying as he strips out of his shirt too, clambering onto the bed beside Steve’s hip, eyes wide and fingers shaking as he lubes up.
It’s after, when everything’s cooling and drying and becoming itchy, that Eddie’s breath wobbles. “I shouldn’t,” he mutters into Steve’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t say anything. But hell if I don’t miss you like crazy.”
Steve closes his eyes, tries to keep the tears at bay. “You’re drunk.”
“I had less than one drink.”
The tears win. “We broke up for a reason,” he whispers. “Didn’t we?”
“I was scared,” Eddie says.
“And you’re not now?”
“Only of losing you.”
Steve sobs, can’t help it, but he feels Eddie’s hot tears on his neck, too, and that somehow makes it better.
It’s the next morning, after slow, sleepy kisses and breakfast, that Steve sighs. “I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I can.”
“I don’t think I can, either.”
Steve slowly turns to look at him. “So what does that make us?”
Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is it makes me yours.”
“Yours,” Steve parrots, daring to curl his fingers over Eddie’s, breath hitching when he holds on just as tight. “That sounds pretty damn good to me.”
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