The morning light slipped quietly through the half-closed blinds of Steve’s bedroom, painting pale gold across the carpet and walls. The house was silent—his parents weren’t home, hadn’t been for days, not that it made much of a difference. It had been quiet even when they were.

Eddie had gotten up to pee, still bleary-eyed and yawning, muttering about Steve’s ridiculous habit of hogging the blankets. He hadn’t been gone long—barely two minutes—but when he came back into the room, everything stopped.

Steve was curled slightly on his side, facing the wall. The blanket had fallen away from his torso, leaving his back exposed to the cool air. One arm was draped across his stomach, but the other—his other hand was pressed tightly over his mouth. His shoulders shook.

It took Eddie a second to register the quiet sound. The hitched breathing. The soft, choked whimpers.

Steve was crying.

Not loud, not attention-seeking. He was trying so hard not to make a sound. His eyes were shut tight, his brows drawn together. Like if he just kept still enough, maybe even Eddie wouldn’t notice.

Eddie didn’t say anything at first. He crossed the room slowly, knees sinking into the mattress as he climbed back into bed. Gently, he reached out, cupping Steve’s face with warm, calloused hands. His thumb brushed along tear-streaked cheeks, wiping away what he could. Steve flinched at first—like he’d been caught—but Eddie just leaned in, nose brushing his temple.

Steve’s hand stayed over his mouth. His other arm clutched at Eddie’s shirt now, fingers gripping tight in a silent apology or plea. He didn’t know which.

Eddie wrapped both arms around him, pulling him close, pressing Steve’s face against his chest.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, voice low and soft like a lullaby. “Steve… I’m here, alright? I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe. You hear me?”

Steve didn’t answer, not with words. He just nodded slightly against Eddie’s chest, a broken breath escaping past his hand. Eddie kissed the top of his head, slow and sure, and rested his cheek there.

“I love you so much,” Eddie murmured into his hair. “Whatever it is—whatever’s in your head—I’ve got you. You don’t have to do it alone.”

And so they lay there, in the early quiet of the morning, with Steve curled into Eddie’s arms like he finally let himself fall apart—because he knew someone would catch him.