Chapter 13 - Steves POV

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I chuckle to myself as I see Eddie's slightly panicked face, the obvious shock of my interest in his music thinly veiled due to his inebriated state.

"Hey, I promised I'd be down to learn more about your taste in music. Do you think I forgot that easily?" I teased him gently. Honestly, I did find myself curious about the things Eddie enjoys. Even if they aren't a shared interest of ours, the way his face lights up when he gets excited makes listening to a slightly boring rant worth it.

Eddie pauses for a moment, face returning to a neutral position. "Are you sure-" I cut him off before he can continue talking, 

"I feel like we've had this conversation before. I swear I wouldn't promise you something I didn't plan on following through."

He seems satisfied with this answer, nodding a couple times before starting on a long intoxicated rant about several music artists, guitarists, you name it, none of which I have ever heard of. I nod my head at the appropriate times and ask periodic questions so he knows I'm still paying attention. We listen to a couple songs from different artists, and Eddie loses himself in talking about different song meanings and particularly difficult guitar riffs he had either learned or has been attempting to learn. After a little bit Eddie sits next to me on his bed, grabbing my hand. I look at him with wide eyes, about to ask what he's doing when he says, 

"Your fingers..." He mumbles, examining my hand carefully. I could feel my face burning from the blush spreading from my neck up. Eddie is certainly still feeling the affects of the weed he smoked before I showed up because there is no way he'd be this touchy sober. Right? My thoughts are interrupted as he continues his thought, "you'd be good at guitar. I could show you sometime?" Eddie looks at me with an expectant expression, big brown eyes shining with hope. 

God, how could someone look at him and say no?

"Yeah. Yes. That would be cool." Eddies grip on my hand tightens as he bounces a bit in excitement.

"Yes!" He shouts, kind of in my ear, but I don't mind. "I knew you weren't lame Harrington. Well, I thought you were." He looks at me thoughtfully, "but I don't think so anymore. Believe it or not, but finding out someone has fought interdimensional monsters on multiple occasions makes them like...totally immune to being lame." 

I hold back a smile in favor of making fun of the man, "wow, it took a life or death situation for you to realize I'm cool? That's kinda rude if I do say so myself." I roll my eyes, looking over at Eddie to see an unrecognizable look on his face. Before I could figure out what it was, he tackles me into a huge hug, knocking me onto my back causing me to lay flat on his bed. Eddie was laying on top of me now, arms wrapped around my neck. I laugh a bit awkwardly and carefully hug him back, my arms wrapping around his waist. We stay like that for a couple seconds before Eddie lifts himself off of me. Holding himself up with one hand, he wipes the other across his face to pull the hair that has found its way into his mouth, out. 

I feel my brain short circut as Eddie looks down at me. My stomach flutters as he smiles and stares, looking at me with that same unrecognizable look on his face. I hardly even care about figuring out the expression anymore. All I can think about is the weight of the man on top of me. About how I could feel his warm breath against my face. How I could smell the soft musk of what I assume to be his shampoo clinging to his hair, that of which was surrounding my face like a brown waterfall. All I could think about was how he would taste if I were to just...

I try to shake the thought from my head, forcing myself to use logic. "He's high Steve. If anything happened right now you wouldn't know if he actually wanted it until the morning, and if he didn't, who knows what would happen." As much as I try to listen to reasoning, everything else within myself was screaming,

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