a/n -> unprompted and unedited fluff which i wrote at 2am last night even though i had work at 9am because i suddenly realised i'd never written any boyfriend!steven and that had to change
...
'Are you going to answer that or what?'
Annoyance flares inside you; you close your eyes and inhale deeply through your nose in an attempt to calm yourself. It's a good job you're facing the wall and not Taylor, your friend and colleague, lest they see the exasperation written across your face.
'I'm just reading over these reports a sec. It can go to answerphone,' you reply, not deigning to turn around and face Taylor. You like them a lot, but you really don't know if you can stand the sight of their face right now, and it might sound harsh but overtime means that you've been here for nearing eleven hours, and you're done.
Instead you glance sideways at the phone which you're ignoring, and have been for the last three calls. It stops ringing as you look at it as though it can sense the weariness in your gaze. Thank you, you acknowledge it silently.
You glare back at the reports you'd been reading over, and the phone starts ringing again.
'Christ,' Taylor exclaims, and before you can do anything to stop them they're across to your desk and sitting on it, then picking up the phone and answering it.
'Taylor,' you hiss, dropping your pen into your lap and pressing your palms to your forehead.
'Helloo?' Taylor says into the phone, smiling sweetly into the middle distance over the top of your head. You lean back in your chair and accept your fate. If it's your boss you're both going to be in so much trouble.
'It's Taylor,' Taylor says, clearly in response to whoever is on the line asking who might be speaking. They say it as though it's perfectly normal for them to be answering your work number.
'What? No, she's fine. Unless you count the fact that she's actually dying of boredom,' Taylor jokes, smiling at you, and you find yourself marvelling at their spirit which never seems to waver, even eleven hours into a shift. You offer up a weak smile in return, letting your hands fall back into your lap.
'Yes, I suppose so,' Taylor says, before holding the phone out to you. 'It's your boyyfriendd-'
'Hello?' you say, snatching the phone abruptly from Taylor's grasp. They laugh and jump off your desk, returning to their own to give you some privacy.
'Hey love,' Steven says, and it's as though his voice is a sort of verbal release for all the tension you're carrying, which, at present, is a lot of tension. Your shoulders drop and you're forced to unclench your jaw as you smile at the sound of his voice, your chair creaking in protest as you slump into it further.
'Hi,' you say, your voice audibly softer than before.
'That's better. I could feel you frownin' down the phone,' he says, and you laugh through your nose.
'Sorry,' you apologise, bringing two fingers up to massage your right temple.
'Don't be. Long day? I've been tryin' to call,' he says, and your heart clenches with guilt.
'Yeah, I'm sorry, if I'd known it was you...'
'It's okay, I figured you were busy. D'you know when you'll be home?'
You look back to the report you'd been reading, and then to the stack of paperwork you've yet to get through, considerably smaller than it was a few hours ago but sizeable nonetheless, and sigh.
'It's gonna be a late one, I wouldn't wait up,' you tell him despondently, fiddling with one of the buttons on your shirt.
'Oh, okay,' he says sadly, and you picture him as he mostly probably is right now: in his apartment, alone, sat crossed legged on the sofa with the phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, sleeves pulled down over his hands, in the middle of reading something or possibly cooking dinner. Suddenly you miss him so much that it feels as though your heart folds in on itself, and you just want to be home, with him.
'Sorry,' you repeat quietly, stopping yourself from calling him anything which would cause Taylor to make fake gagging noises from across the room.
'No, I said don't apologise! I'm fine, really. Are you okay?' he asks you, and it's not until this moment in the past eleven hours that you've stopped to consider whether you are in fact alright.
As tears fill your eyes suddenly, it turns out that you're not. Steven's soft 'Love?' from the other end of the phone does nothing but make your chest contract, and you squeeze your eyes shut tight to try and stop the tears.
'Yeah,' you manage to whisper, hating yourself. All over some stupid paperwork.
'Y/N,' he says your name, and there's so much love and concern in his voice it suddenly makes everything else seem absolutely insignificant.
'I'm okay, I am,' you say, but you know he knows your voice too well for him to think that you're telling the truth for even a second.
'Can't you get away? You've been there forever, they work you too hard...' he sounds angry now, and you have to smile. You've heard this speech so often you practically know it off by heart.
'I know, I know,' you speak over him, interrupting before he gets into it properly, because then there'll be no stopping him and you won't be there to stop him from 'phoning your boss personally'. 'I really am fine, I promise. I'm just tired.'
'You'll be home by midnight?' he asks. You look at the clock, and then your remaining paperwork. Just under two hours.
'I- yeah. Okay,' you say, resigning yourself to a few more hours of hard work.
'Thank you. Make sure you eat, okay? Have you eaten?'
You wipe your sleeve under your eyes and it comes away black from your smudged make up. You find it very difficult to care.
'Yes,' you reply, and he's got you smiling again.
'Good. Get home safe, yeah? Call me if-'
'I'll be okay, I swear,' you cut across him. You have this conversation every time you have to get home in the dark. 'I'll get a cab with Taylor.'
'Okay. I love you.'
It suddenly seems impossible that you have been away from him for so long and haven't simply passed away. You want to tell him so, but Taylor is still within earshot, so you settle for repeating the sentiment, and hoping as you do every time you say it to him that he experiences even a fraction of the emotion which the words elicit in you.
'I love you. See you later.'
There's a click, and he's gone.
'You two are disgustingly in love,' Taylor comments, and you sigh.
'I know.'
'Are you okay?' they ask, and you realise they'd probably heard you get upset.
'Yeah. Tired, but we all are,' you say, and Taylor stands up.
'Two more hours. You want more coffee?'
'Always.'
Caffeine, and the thought of getting home to Steven and putting your pyjamas on, gets you through the next two hours, and finally, finally, you and your colleagues are leaving the building, locking up and heading your separate ways.
You and Taylor cab share, which is a good thing because they actually stop you from physically falling asleep in the back seat, and then you're dragging your feet up the stairs to Steven's apartment.
The lights are off except for the fairy lights which you'd insisted on hanging from the numerous bookcases in the apartment, and the reading light behind one of the couches, from which Steven is blinking at you behind his reading glasses.
'I told you not to wait up,' you protest, pushing the door shut behind you with your back and letting your bag drop to the floor.
'And I told you to be home by midnight,' Steven says, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes.
'It is before midnight!' you protest before checking your phone and discovering that the time is in fact is two minutes past midnight.
'Oh,' you say, rolling your eyes and kicking your shoes off, which means that by the time Steven gets to you your eyes are about level with his chin.
'Oh,' he mimics you, sliding his hands into your jacket and around your waist, pulling you to him. You become utterly pliant in his arms, leaning into him and lifting your arms up to put them around his neck, your fingers finding their way into his hair.
He hums happily into the top of your head, and you can't help but agree with him.
'Missed you,' you murmur into his shoulder, and he squeezes you, almost lifting you off of your feet.
'Me too,' he says, but then he's pulling away from you which seems entirely unfair. You look up at him with a small frown and he chuckles, apparently finding your annoyance funny. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and suddenly it's absolutely beyond you why you'd been frowning seconds previously.
'Okay?' he asks gently, and you nod.
'Am now,' you tell him, and he smiles. 'Pyjamas?'
'Pyjamas,' you confirm, and soon after you're curled against him on the sofa, tucked under his arm, your head resting against his chest in a state of what you could only describe in that moment as perfect bliss. It takes about three seconds for your eyes to fall shut.
'Don't fall asleep, I've waited all night to watch this episode with you,' Steven says, and you open one eye as you hear the familiar sound that accompanies Netflix opening.
'Mhm,' you reply, and you feel and hear him sigh.
'I'm not rewatching this with you,' he warns.
'M'kay,' you murmur. He would.
'And I'm not carrying you to bed either,' he tells you, dropping the remote on the sofa next to him as the episode starts to play, and moving his hand to run through your hair instead.
'Mmm,' you hum in contentment, and feel his chest move as he laughs silently. You are absolutely not staying awake until the end of the episode, and he knows it as well as you.