steddie oneshots

Nails

"What's taking them so long?" Eddie complains.

"Those kids can be a lot to handle, trust me." Steve says.

"Well I'm bored."

Sitting in Steve's bedroom, Steve on his bed and Eddie sprawled across the floor dramatically, they wait for their friends to return.

The whole group is having a movie night, and Nancy and Robin took the kids to get snacks. They couldn't all decide what they wanted, and instead decided to cram themselves into Nancy's car.

Steve protested, wanting to help, but Nancy and Robin insisted he stay at his house with Eddie. Steve's not sure why; but it is kind of nice to have a break from babysitting.

Or it would be nice, if Eddie didn't complain every five seconds.

Eddie has been staying with Steve in his guest bedroom for about a week to hide him, since Steve's house is the biggest and no one's ever home anyway.

It's been interesting living together when they're so different. Eddie is messy, Steve is organized. Eddie likes his metal music loud, Steve prefers synth pop at a normal volume.

All in all, there hasn't been much real conflict. Eddie might not have been Steve's first choice of company, but he's company nonetheless.

"What do you want me to do about it?" Steve deadpans. He doesn't expect a serious answer, but Eddie suddenly sits up like he's got an idea.

"I know what we can do," Eddie says. The look on his face is concerning Steve. The last time he saw it, Eddie tried to cook him dinner—Steve won't let Eddie anywhere near the kitchen now.

"What?" Steve asks cautiously. Eddie reaches in his jacket pocket and pulls out a small black glass bottle.

"Let's paint our nails!" Eddie says excitedly.

Steve groans. "Not this again."

Eddie has asked if he can paint Steve's nails twice before, and Steve said absolutely not.

"I dunno why you're so against it, man. Black nails are totally hot. It'd add to your whole 'I care about how I look' thing."   

"Eddie, that's why I don't want to. It's for people who don't care about how they look," Steve says.

"Guess we disagree." Eddie grins. "I mean, don't you think it's hot on me?"

Steve chokes on air, sent into a coughing fit.

"Woah, are you okay?" Eddie asks.

"Y-yeah, yeah I'm fine," Steve assures him, trying to recover. He stares at Eddie, who stares back, waiting. "Fine, you can paint my nails," Steve relents.

"Yes! You won't regret this," Eddie says.

"Pretty sure I will," Steve says. He didn't expect it to make Eddie so happy, though. Maybe it's worth it, for that.

Eddie gestures for Steve to scoot over on the bed and they sit facing each other, cross-legged. Eddie reaches for Steve's left hand.

"Woah, on the bed?" Steve asks.

"Please, Harrington, this isn't my first time," Eddie says.

They stare at each other—both realizing how that sounded—followed by mutual laughter. Steve can't actually remember the last time he laughed like this, let alone seen Eddie this way. It's nice, even if it was a dumb joke.

"Anyway," Eddie says. "I'm really good at painting nails. It'll be fine."

"Okay. But if any of it leaves my nails I'm kicking you out," Steve says. Eddie looks at him and smiles.