we can't make any promises (now can we, babe?)

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it's been an itch under steve's skin ever since the metalhead shoved his body up against the wall of the boathouse. the urge to grab eddie by his stupid collar and roughly kiss him whenever he's rambling about something so nerdy it's to the point that it's helplessly hot.

the want that is implanted into steve's bloodstream, how strong it is, to tell eddie that he loves him, how he doesn't want a girlfriend, a girl with glossy lips and fluffy hair, soft hands, sweet smiles and even sweeter laughs.

he wants eddie. a boy, a best friend, chapped lips and frizzy hair, calloused hands, sharp, megawatt smiles and booming laughs.

OR

steve wants eddie, badly. it gets stronger when he finds out that the man he's in love with is also queer.

multiple chapters, updated as much as possible.

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