The laughter from the kitchen hit him before he even rounded the corner. Yours. And Eddie’s. That easy, unguarded kind of laughter thats usually just his.

Steve leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, pretending to be relaxed — the image of casual. But his jaw was tight.

You were sitting on the counter, Eddie standing way too close while handing you a glass of something.

Steve caught the way Eddie’s fingers brushed yours when you took it. He couldn't help but approach, not interrupting...of course not.

“Funny guy, huh?” He said finally, his tone light but his eyes sharp when they met yours.

Eddie grinned, oblivious. “Guess she just likes my jokes, man.”

“Yeah,” Steve murmured, pushing off the doorframe to walk closer. “She’s got good taste.”

He stopped behind you, one hand finding your hip like it belonged there — and it did. His thumb rubbed slow circles against the fabric of your jeans as he smiled, all teeth and warmth that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“So, sweetheart,” he said softly, close enough for you to feel his breath. “you gonna tell me what’s so funny, or do I gotta earn a laugh myself?”