I've Gone Onto Better Things

by bleepbloopbee

Summary:

Steve Harrington is dumped by his long-term boyfriend Tommy on the very night Steve thought he was going to propose. Tommy claims that Steve "isn't serious enough". So, Steve comes up with the completely brilliant plan on how to win him back-- he's going to follow Tommy to Harvard Law, kick butt, prove to him that he's serious enough, and win his Alpha back.

It does not go as planned.

Chapter 1: "Jackie, not a Marilyn"

Notes:

this came to me suddenly and I had to write. I've got the entire thing planned out, which is probably more than I've ever done before.
This chapter heavily follows dialogue from the movie (some from the musical, because that musical is so good) because I need to set some things up and the movie did it so well haha. Not all chapters are like this, I promise, but the first few will be as things get established. I hope you enjoy, I'm having a lot of fun with this :D

Title is from "So Much Better" from the musical, and chapter titles will be quotes from the movie and musical.

Steve checks his phone yet again. 

Eighteen minutes past six. 

Tommy is not just late, he is very late. Steve huffs, and flips his phone over so it’s face-down on the white linen tablecloth. 

The audacity of Tommy. He had called yesterday, saying that he had something important to tell Steve. Now, he’s late. Not only that, but this is not the kind of restaurant you’re late to. Tommy had made the reservation, flashing his dad’s name in order to get a table in less than twenty-four hours. It seems that the damn senator's son will use his last name to get a reservation he doesn’t even bother showing up on time to. 

And what makes all of this even worse is that Steve is expecting a certain question to be asked tonight. 

It’s the time. They’ve been together for nearly three years. Graduation is in a few months. Steve’s sorority sisters are being snatched up like flies– it's like every month someone else is coming back to the house with a big sparkly rock on their finger. Steve knows that Tommy’s mother has been breathing down his neck about finally getting down on one knee. And Tommy sounded so serious on the phone last night. 

Steve dressed up so nicely for tonight too. Hair done just right, the lightest touch of makeup to accentuate his features, a loose sunny yellow top with tighter white trousers. No perfumes or suppressants masking his peach and vanilla scent– just how Tommy likes it. 

Each passing minute makes Steve’s stomach sink further. 

When the chair across from him is finally pulled out, he doesn’t even bother glancing at his phone. He doesn’t want to know just how late Tommy is.

“So sorry I’m late.” Tommy doesn’t sound sorry, not really. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

Steve doesn’t entirely believe that. His trip here was just fine, and Tommy’s fraternity house isn’t even a block away from his own. But he’s not going to push it, not tonight.

“It’s okay,” Steve says with a barely-there smile. “I haven’t ordered yet.”

No, but he’s had enough time to damn near memorize the menu in front of him. 

Tommy picks up his own menu. As he flips through it, he launches into a story about something that his fraternity brothers did over the weekend. Steve listens, humming at the appropriate times and interjecting small comments when necessary. The story really isn’t all that thrilling, but he’s not going to let his annoyance at Tommy show. Now is definitely not the place to pick a fight over something so trivial. 

The waiter comes by to take their orders, with Tommy only pausing the story long enough to place an order for the steak. Steve orders one of the salads, ignoring Tommy’s weird stink-eye he throws across the table. Once they’re alone again, the story starts right back up. 

It lasts throughout the wait for their food to come. Steve is used to it though. Tommy’s always kind of been like this. He likes to talk about what’s going on in his life, and Steve’s good at listening. Besides, Tommy doesn’t really get Steve’s interests. Tommy’s studying pre-law, while Steve’s pursuing fashion merchandising. He doesn’t share Steve’s interest in following the latest designers, or watching every award show to judge what the latest celebs are wearing. 

But Steve’s fine with that. His mother and father don’t share the same interests. Besides, Tommy’s an Alpha and studying something as intense as law makes sense. That’s what he’s always been told. 

The food comes, and the conversion settles down as they start to eat. Steve’s not feeling particularly hungry, so while he does eat some, he spends most of the time just pushing the leaves around the plate. The nervousness is a low, simmering feeling in the back of his mind.

“So, you said you had something important to tell me?” Steve asks as Tommy’s about halfway through his steak.

“Oh, yeah.” Tommy nods, setting down his cutlery and licking away the sauce in the corner of his mouth. 

Steve generally finds that endearing, but he wishes he’d use a napkin– wasn’t he raised with manners to be able to eat in a place like this?

“I wanted to talk about our future.” Tommy starts. 

Steve’s stomach starts to tighten. “Yeah?”

“Graduation is in a couple of months. I’m going off to Harvard after that.”

Steve nods. He knows this. He’s known this for years– after he graduates, he’ll be leaving sunny California to colder Massachusetts to help support Tommy through his time in law school.

“It’s going to be a lot different, like a whole different world. I need to be serious about it,” Tommy explains. “Mom, Dad especially, have been really putting on a lot of pressure this year because of it.”

“I know, and you know I support you, right?” Steve says. He’s still pushing the salad around. His nerves are running haywire. He takes a slow, practiced breath to try to calm them.

“I know you do, but if I’m going to be a senator by the time I’m thirty, I need to stop messing around.” Tommy’s still smiling. A weird, little half-smile, which makes Steve feel a bit uneasy as they make eye contact. It doesn’t feel right…

“I understand, completely.” Steve nods. He’s just nervous because Tommy’s about to pull a ring out of his pocket. That’s why this all feels off. 

At his reply, Tommy sighs in relief. 

“Great, you understand,” he says, “you get why it’s”

Steve swallows thickly. Tommy shifts in his seat.

“Yeah?” Steve asks softly. 

“time for us,” Tommy says,

“I do–” Steve cuts in,

“to break up.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

The words settle in.

Not the words Steve was expecting.

“Wait– what?”

Tommy shrugs a shoulder. He picks his knife and fork back up. “Well, I mean I’ve been thinking about it, and I think it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re…” It’s Steve’s turn to drop his fork. It clatters against the delicate ceramic plate. 

Tommy cuts a piece of steak like he didn’t just drop an atomic bomb in Steve’s lap.

“You’re breaking up with me?” Steve’s voice wavers. “I thought you were proposing…”

“Steve,” Tommy laughs, just one hah. “I told you I need to be serious about all this.”

He gestures vaguely with his fork, which has a piece of steak speared in it. How casual he is about this makes Steve feel like he wants to throw up. 

Tommy was late because he didn’t fucking care.

“We've been together for three years.” Steve says. “What do you mean, messing around?”

“Yeah, I was,” Tommy snorts. “You seriously didn’t think this was going to last, right?”

“But…”

“Steve,” his name feels wrong in Tommy’s mouth all of a sudden, “I told you I’m going to be a senator. To do that, I need to be serious . Like… I need to marry a Jackie, not a Marilyn.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Steve’s voice starts to rise. 

Someone from the table next to them glances over. Steve couldn’t give a single shit, because it clicks into place. Tommy brought him out, to this nice fucking restaurant, because he hoped that Steve wouldn’t make a scene.

What Tommy is forgetting, however, is that Steve’s really good at being a bitch. 

“You’re not… serious,” Tommy says. “You study fuckin’ fashion.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” Steve spits out.

His scent is beginning to sour. The normally light peach is starting to feel rotten, the accompanying vanilla is starting to go, like the creaminess of it is beginning to curdle.

A few more eyes glance in their direction.

“There’s five generations of senators in my family. My cousin is third in his class at Yale, and just got engaged to Vanderbilt. My parents are breathing down my neck–”

“That’s your cousin–” Steve cuts in, but Tommy pushes through. 

“I’m under so much pressure to be serious. Fashion isn’t serious . Designing clothes and dressing people up isn’t serious.”

“But I’m seriously in love with you.” Steve sniffles. 

The smell of a distressed Omega is steadily filling the restaurant. Even more people are looking over. Tommy’s scent is picking up too, bitter in the back of Steve’s nose.

“It’s not like I have a choice here–” Tommy tries to run damage control. 

But tears are welling in Steve’s eyes, blurring his vision. 

“Fuck you, you always have a choice,” Steve says between grit teeth. He picks up the napkin nicely laid across his lap and throws it down on the table.

Tommy stutters out the beginnings of a few different sentences, clearly not expecting Steve to get so riled up. Steve doesn’t bother to respond to any of them as he shoves his phone in his bag.

“I have to think of my future–” Tommy finally gets a sentence right. “A-And what my family thinks of me–”

Steve scoffs. He sniffles and blinks rapidly. He refuses to start crying in the middle of this stupid fucking restaurant. 

“Shut up,” Steve scolds. He pushes the chair away from the table. It screeches across the wood floor as Steve stands up.

“Steve– at least let me drive you home,” Tommy tries.

“Fuck you. I’ll call a damn Uber.” Steve turns his back on Tommy. Tommy splutters some more as Steve storms off.

Every eye in the room is following him, some noses wrinkled as he passes. His scent is a storm filling the room, good fuckin’ riddance. 

He wasn’t necessarily happy with Tommy, but it was good. It was comfortable. And it’d get even nicer when Tommy would get elected– Steve would have the time and resources to really get into fashion. And hopefully start a family. A few pups, a fluffy golden retriever… the All-American family. It would’ve been good. 

But apparently, not good enough for Thomas fuckin’ Hagan and his stupid fucking family.

The first tears fall as Steve passes through the doors of the restaurant. With blurry vision and shaking fingers, he unlocks his phone and hits a few buttons. As the call starts, he lifts it to his ear. It connects barely two rings later.

“Stevie, how’d it–”

“Chrissy, can you come pick me up?”

There’s a long pause.

“Oh… oh Steve… ”

And Steve sobs. 

 

Notes:

My writing motivation is all over the place these days... I'm hoping that having this all plotted out will help. Maybe having some shorter chapters too, but when I really get into the meat of the plot who knows how long the chapters will be. buuuuuut I do hope you like this so far!! Steddie doesn't start for a few more chapters, but when it does!!!! I can't wait :D

If you'd like to keep up with me in between chapters, check out my twitter where I'm decently active. yall have a wonderful day <3<3

Chapter 2: “What makes you think you can do this?”

Summary:

After a few days of grieving his relationship with Tommy, Steve gets the completely brilliant plan to win him back. It'll wreck his senior spring, but it will all be worth it.

Notes:

First off, THANK YOU for all the support both here and on twitter!! It makes me so so so happy to see that y'all are as excited for this as I am :D

Secondly, I last-minute shuffled some things around in this fic, causing me to rewrite a large chunk of this chapter. Kinda sad, because I really did like what I had written... buuut the pay-off will be worth it! Because of that, there's a minor change to the previous chapter. Chrissy is the person Steve calls instead. Don't worry though, we will be seeing Robin soon 😉

This chapter's title comes from "What You Want" from the musical.

Chrissy Cunningham is Steve’s closest and oldest friend. They met when they were in elementary school, and have been inseparable ever since. Even joining the same sorority, Delta Nu, in college.

They even presented within weeks of each other back in their sophomore year of high school. Her Omegan cinnamon and sugar scent combines beautifully with Steve’s own, making the two smell like peach cobbler. They mingled so well people thought they were already mated. They always laughed that joke off, feeling more like siblings they never had, since both were only children. 

Being able to lean on each other made things easier. Steve’s parents were never home, while Chrissy’s were overbearing. It made them feel less alone. Always supporting each other no matter what. 

“He’s an asshole,” Chrissy says as they split a pint of U.S.S. Butterscotch. “He’s an idiot for giving you up.”

Steve sniffles, nose still clogged as he shoves the spoon in his mouth. 

“I know,” he says glumly around a mouthful of ice cream. 

The two are bundled up in Steve’s nest, surrounded by blankets and pillows. The TV on to some rom-com, volume low enough to barely be audible. The curtains are drawn, casting the room in shadow. He should really open a window though, it’s smelling a little rank in here. 

“He was still nice,” Steve murmurs, passing the pint back to Chrissy. “It was nice, you know?”

Chrissy nods sadly. She had her own long-term relationship for the first half of college. Jason Carver was nice in the beginning. A good football player, handsome, and the picture of an All-American Alpha. But as things got more serious, he got more controlling. Fortunately she was able to get out before things got really bad. 

But she got it. Jason was a dick, but they still had their nice moments.

“He loved– I mean, I thought he loved me. We were… we were nice, you know? The couple everyone wanted to be…” Steve trails off.

They were. They were the Greek-life couple. Queen-Omega Steve Harrington, president of Delta Nu, and King-Alpha Tommy Hagan, destined for greatness. They were some kind of power-couple. 

Steve eats another heaping spoonful of ice cream. Chrissy hums softly, shifting in the nest so she can rest her head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve tilts his head in response, letting his cheek rest on top of her head.

“He’s wrong though.” Chrissy says after a few minutes of silence. 

Steve hums in lieu of a verbal question, not looking away from the TV that he’s barely watching.

“You’re serious,” Chrissy explains. “You’re passionate about your interests. You have an incredible sense of style. You spend days planning Delta Nu events. And, you spearhead any philanthropy we do.”

Steve smiles a little at the compliments. 

“If anything, I think you’re more passionate than he is.”

Steve snorts. “I don’t think so.”

Chrissy hums just one note. Steve knows that she doesn’t agree with him. But, she doesn’t press, thank god.

“You’re serious Steve. One of the most serious people I’ve met.”

Steve rubs his cheek against her hair, a silent sign of affection. 

“Want to watch Love Island?” He asks. She allows him to change the topic.

“And make fun of them? Absolutely,” she laughs and reaches over Steve to grab the remote. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

It generally takes some time for Steve to process things. This is a known fact, a bygone conclusion. Steve’s made peace with it. It just takes a little bit longer for whatever had happened to sink in. For example, he got home from the dinner with Tommy, still crying but it hadn’t quite sunk in. He kept expecting Tommy to call him, saying “sike! I thought it over and I made a mistake.” But when he woke up the next morning, the new reality of being single really kicked in. 

Then the mourning started. Chrissy, the angel that she is, climbed into his nest with a pint of ice cream and a bottle of wine, and they passed both back and forth while watching trashy TV for several days.

Now, on the morning of the fourth day post-breakup, Steve is brushing his teeth when it hits him. 

You’re serious, Steve, Chrissy had complimented last night. Compared to Tommy’s you’re not… serious. 

He spits the foamy toothpaste out into the sink. Then, it feels like a lightbulb goes off. He’s quick to rinse the rest of it out, then rushes back to his room.

“I’ve got it!” He yells as he bursts into the room. “I’ve got a completely brilliant plan!”

Chrissy stirs from the depths of the nest. She pokes her head up, hair absolutely a mess. Steve clambers back in, almost kneeing Chrissy in the back. She makes a sleepy noise in complaint. 

“What?” She asks as she rolls onto her back. 

“I know how I’m going to show him I’m serious,” Steve replies. He’s kneeling on the bed next to her, almost bouncing in excitement.

“Tommy?” Chrissy asks through a yawn.

“Yeah.” Steve nods. “I’m going to go to Harvard.”

Chrissy’s eyebrows furrow. She slowly sits up so she can look at Steve directly.

“Like… to visit him?” She asks.

“No, I’m going to go to Harvard,” Steve repeats with emphasis. “I’m going to get into law school.”

A beat passes as Chrissy thinks it over. Steve watches the gears turn in her head. 

“But… why?”

“That’s how I’m going to get him back. I’m going to go to Harvard, kick butt, prove to him that I’m serious, and win him back!” He says. “He said he wanted a Jackie, right? Well, first of all, I’m not a blonde like Marilyn, so I already have a point in my favor. Plus, Jackie had an incredible fashion sense so I know I’d do well there.”

The plan is really that simple.

“It’s really that simple.” Steve grins.

“But…” Chrissy trails off, figuring out how she wants to word this. “But, you don’t want to go to law school. You don’t even like law– you’ve complained to me before about how boring it is when you try to help Tommy study.”

“It’s boring because he makes it boring. I help you study for your early education exams, and those are fun,” Steve replies with a one-shoulder shrug. 

Chrissy stares at him like he’s grown an extra head. “But you like it here.”

“I won’t be gone for forever. Tommy wants to run for office in California. I’ll be back soon enough.” Steve says with a vague hand wave. 

Chrissy takes a slow breath, in and out. 

“Are you really sure about this?” She asks quietly.

“Positive.” Steve nods once, definitively. 

Chrissy nods too, though much slower. “I’m always going to support you, so if you really want to do this, I’ll help you.”

Steve cheers, rocketing forward to wrap his arms around her. Chrissy yells, falling back into the blankets under Steve’s weight.

“You’re amazing Chris! I love you so much,” Steve says.

Chrissy laughs a little, hugging Steve back. “Love you too, but you’re crushing me!”

Steve squirms, making her laugh even more. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

“Can we think this through, one more time?” Chrissy pants as she kicks open the door to Steve’s room. She can barely see over the stack of textbooks in her arms. 

Steve is right behind her, carrying an equal amount of books. 

“Steve, this– this is too much,” she says. She stumbles over to the bed, just barely managing to drop the books onto the bed before they slip out of her grip. The whole bed shifts under the sudden weight of them hitting the comforter. “You’re going to learn all of this? In just a few months?”

“There’s nothing to think through,” Steve replies. He is much less out of breath (thank you morning runs and bi-weekly workouts!) as he sets his own stack of books onto his desk. “It’s not like I’m a bad student, I have a 4.0–”

“In fashion merchandising,” Chrissy cuts in, spinning around so she can flop onto the bed right next to the books. “What makes you think you can do this?”

Steve frowns, leaning back against the edge of his desk. He crosses his arms across his chest. “You know I’m basically a business major. It’s not just designing clothes.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Chrissy replies, moving up to rest on her elbows. 

Steve nods a little. He knows she means it. 

They’ve been through hell during college. Chrissy changed her major three times before landing on early education. Her mother was always breathing down her neck to pick something “appropriate for an Omega”, and Chrissy just so happened to strike gold when she took an education elective just to fill her schedule. It got her mom off her back, or at least about her education. Steve has always been a fashion merchandising major, though didn’t truly understand the merchandising part until he was in the thick of business and marketing classes. Chrissy helped him stay afloat through it all, just as he had done for her, even as everyone else tries to diminish both of their chosen majors. 

“But… I think that could give you an edge,” Chrissy says after a moment. 

Steve hums, turning back towards his desk so he can start sorting through all the law textbooks they pulled from the library.

“Like, business is a part of law… I think. If you’re going to open your own firm, you have to understand business practices… and know how to market yourself,” Chrissy explains.

Steve hums again, longer and more considering this time. “I have to submit some kind of essay with my application. I could talk about that.”

“Yeah!” Chrissy sits up fully. “You can talk about that! Even though you aren’t a pre-law major, you have this business experience which not every applicant could have.”

Steve glances up into the mirror that hangs above his desk. Chrissy is smiling through it, and he can’t help but match it. 

“Could you help me edit it?” He asks.

“Of course I will.” She replies. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

“You’re doing what now?”

Steve is so happy to not be having this conversation face-to-face. 

His mother’s on the other end of the phone call. She’s out in… Germany, somewhere… with his father. His dad is on some business trip, and mom hasn’t trusted him alone since she caught him inside his college-aged intern when Steve was still in diapers. So, she’s in Germany with him. Which… hopefully that means she hasn’t gotten the news about the end of Steve and Tommy’s relationship.

“Going to Harvard,” Steve replies. 

“Isn’t Thomas going to Harvard?” His mom asks. Steve is surprised she even remembers that much.

His parents have been hands-off his whole life, passing him through nannies until he was old enough to be a latchkey kid with an iPhone. But fortunately, because of that question, Steve knows for sure that his mom has no clue about the breakup.

“Yeah, he is. He gave me the idea.” 

His mom hums, but Steve can’t determine what she thinks about it.

“But what about the sorority? Isn’t all that studying going to keep you from that?” His mother asks. Of course she asks, she was a Delta Nu. The legacy is vital.

“They all understand. I’m going to be in my final semester anyway, so I’ll be stepping back to let some of the younger sisters be in charge and just advise them,” Steve replies. 

He tries to prepare for these phone calls, because they are really just times where Steve’s parents question all of his life choices. That was an answer he did not have prepared, but he thinks he did a pretty damn good job at answering.

“Oh, that’s good,” his mother says, with some amount of sincerity. Success. “Have you told your father? I think he would like to know you’re finally doing something with your education.”

The high only lasts for so long. The words sink like a weight in Steve’s stomach. Of course. The praise is always backhanded in some capacity.

“Um… no, I haven’t told him yet. I haven’t talked to him for a while.” Steve’s voice is softer, a bit shaky, but his mother doesn’t comment on it if she even notices. 

“Hmm, I thought so. You should really talk to him more often, Stephen. You know he only wants what’s best for you,” his mother says.

Steve swallows thickly. 

What his father wanted was an Alpha son.

“I know that. I’ve just been busy… studying. And you’re in Europe right now. The time difference is hard to get right.” 

She clicks her tongue, just once, to show her disappointment. “Well, I will tell him for you. I imagine he’ll be calling you soon though. He can try to get you a summer internship with a business partner of his. It would make your resume look nicer, Stephen.”

Steve hums noncommittally. He doesn’t want to talk to his father. 

“Oh, I have to go,” she says, with no real inflection. There is rarely any real inflection in her tone. Or at least, rarely any positive inflection. “We have a dinner to attend, you understand.”

He doesn’t. He hasn’t gone on any of their business trips since he was twelve.

“I do. Have a nice trip,” is his reply, half-hearted. 

“Make sure to study, Stephen. It would make us proud if you got in.” 

Ah , there it is. Salt in the wound. Steve holds in a cringe.

“I’ll study,” he says, barely above a whisper. 

His mother doesn’t even say goodbye before she hangs up. Steve holds the phone to his ear for a few more moments, just to hear the dial tone. 

He glances at the calendar that Chrissy hung above his desk. It’s a tacky golden doodle of the month one, but he likes the cute dogs anyway. There’s all these things scribbled into boxes, different colors meaning different things. What’s most important is not on this page, but on a later one. Important for him– for getting Tommy back and maybe, finally, doing something to make his parents proud of him.

“Three months,” he whispers. “Three months to get a 174.”

He lowers his phone, then flops back into bed. He refuses to look at the LSAT prep textbooks covering the room. He’ll look at them later. He just needs to recover first.

 

Notes:

You would not believe how many time's I've written the word "serious" in the first two chapters, jfc hahaha.
Anyway, next chapter is the last real "set-up" chapter! Some familiar faces will be introduced next time, and then things will really kick off :D

If you'd like to keep up with me between updates, I do have a twitter where I'm decently active and post minor updates about my writing! <3<3

Chapter 3: "What, like it's hard?"

Summary:

All the hard work pays off. Steve gets into Harvard Law, and before he knows it, it's August and he's moving across the country. Unfortunately, he does not receive the warmest welcome.

Notes:

Saying this now, chapters are going to be somewhat inconsistent in length. I've got all the chapters plotted out, but you know you never follow your outline 100% haha so scenes could be moved around depending on how it flows!

I hope y'all enjoy though! I'm really pushing myself to actually finish this fic, but who knows what's about to happen because I'm in the midst of interviews for my first post-college internship. If I get it, I'm about to be insanely busy so only time will tell. All of your support and wonderful comments helps more than I can say <3<3

Congratulations on taking the LSAT test…

Steve scrolls further in the email.

Click here to view your test results.

He clicks, and the page redirects. It takes forever to load, but after a minute a login box pops up.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve murmurs. Thank god for autosaving login information.

The page redirects again. This process is taking far longer than Steve would’ve liked.

It’s already been a hard semester– passing up on basically anything fun in order to study. 

He didn’t plan the Valentine’s Day mixer, which broke his heart. Spent weekends with his nose in a textbook instead of going to watch basketball games. Then, his sorority sisters went to Miami for spring break while he stayed back to run through practice LSAT exams. 

Chrissy was doing her best to help him study, but Steve wasn’t going to force her to give it all up just like he had. So, all the seniors around him were having a blast in their final semester while he scribbled down law terms and kept his head low to avoid Tommy at any Greek function he took the time off to attend.

And now, at the end of the tunnel, the damn LSAT people want to make finding his test results even more difficult than the exam was. 

He clicks the appropriate links, waits for pages to load, then his results finally pop up. 

He reads it once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Then, he screams.

“OH MY GOD!”

He rockets out of bed, dragging half the blankets off with him. He speeds across his room, throwing the door open. It swings hard, knocking into the corner of Steve’s desk. The sound doesn’t register as he thunders down the hallway.

“CHRIS!” He yells. “I got my results!”

An excited squeal echoes down the hall. Four doors open in sync.

Chrissy pops out first, followed by three of his sorority sisters from their own rooms.

“How’d you do?” Chrissy asks, stepping out and opening her arms just in time for Steve to collide with her. He curls his arms around her waist to pick her up and spin her around.

“I got a 175!” He laughs in pure joy.

Chrissy squeals again, wiggling in Steve’s arms. “You did it!” 

“I did it!” He sets her down, but does not let her go far. Chrissy wraps her arms around his neck, bouncing on her toes.

“I knew you could do it,” she says with a smile bright enough to power Las Vegas.

His other sisters are cheering, coming forward to join in the hug. The commotion attracts even more, and soon the whole house knows. 

“You’re going to Harvard.” Chrissy says amongst the excited noise.

“That’s if I actually get in,” Steve replies. But he doesn’t let the possibility of being rejected rain on his parade. 

“You’re getting in.” She insists, squeezing him close. 

Steve nods. 

He’s getting in. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

He does get into Harvard.

The acceptance letter comes in this fancy envelope with thick paper and several other welcoming pamphlets. The news is cause for celebration, and Steve gets the honor of planning one last Delta Nu party before he walks across the stage. 

He’s going to miss Chrissy. She holds him close after the ceremony, outside the stadium, still in their cap and gowns.

“I’m not going until August,” Steve had said, but Chrissy waved him off with a sniffle and watery eyes.

“I know. I’m just so proud of you,” she had replied. “You’re going to be amazing.”

He held her tight in the middle of the crowd, not caring that a few tears slipped and smudged his mascara.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

The summer passes both too fast and far too slow. Before he knows it, Steve is standing on the steps of his new dorm building. It’s a far cry from the open stucco buildings of southern California, but he thinks that the red brick buildings are nice. 

What is not nice, however, is all the stares. 

It’s move-in day, so the quad is crowded. People are walking all around, glancing at him with judging expressions. He knows part of why– everyone’s dressed in drab sweaters, oversized hoodies, or something equally boring. Steve, on the other hand, is wearing his favorite pair of light wash jeans (they’re his favorite because they look incredible around his ass and thighs), a soft pink perfectly-oversized t-shirt, and a cream-colored cardigan. Chic and simple. But, far brighter than what anyone else is wearing. 

Steve’s used to attracting gazes. He knows he looks good, but usually the looks he garners are in jealousy or awe, not judgment and slight disgust.

He tries to brush it off best he can, but the guy at check-in gave him a, quite frankly, nasty once-over when Steve went to get his room-key and class schedule. He frowns in return, and walks away before the guy says anything. Unfortunately, as he turns, someone whistles a cat-call under their breath. 

He thought people smart enough to get into Harvard Law would have a bit of decency, but it seems not.

If he ignores the stares and what he assumes are whispered comments behind hands, move-in is easy. His parents were too busy to come out to Boston with him, which is no surprise, so it’s just Steve and the few movers his parents shelled out for. The process is easy, and then Steve gets to unwind by spending the rest of the day unpacking and organizing.

Where some find that tedious, he loves making a new nest in the bed and laying out all his beauty products on the dresser-top. It helps make this completely new and unfamiliar place feel a little more like home. 

 

Welcome weekend is much less of an affair than his one back in California. Everyone has already done undergrad, they don’t need the “welcome to college!” lectures. This time around, it’s a few tours around campus and an optional get-to-know-your-peers thing on the quad outside. It’s a social event, so of course it’s mandatory for Steve.

Unfortunately, the stares do follow him. But, he holds his head high as they get split into smaller groups. He’s placed in a group with four others, including an upperclassman as their “guide”. The five settle in off to the side of the quad near a set of benches.

As they sit, Steve can’t help but look all of them over. He prides himself on the ability to read people, so he can get a pretty good idea about how all of them are just by their appearance and how they sit. 

One sits with proper posture with his clothes neatly ironed. His appearance is really nothing to write home about, especially with the ungodly cocky expression on his face. All Alpha posturing.

 The second stays standing, shoulders slouching in his too-large cable-knit sweater and and equally slouchy beanie on his head. He doesn’t look outright cocky, but definitely holds himself with the “ I’m the smartest person in the room” attitude.

Steve immediately doesn’t like the first two. Especially when they also look him over with a vague look of disgust. The two reek of Alpha, clogging Steve’s nose. 

The third sits on the other end of the bench, and she looks ready to vibrate out of her skin from anxiety. Her clothes are vintage, Steve can tell. She must be a thrifter, but in the sense of actually wanting to avoid fast fashion instead of the awful people on social media who thrift because it’s “trendy”. Steve respects that.

She catches Steve looking her over. Her gaze hardens, and Steve looks away. The first non-overtly-judgemental look he’s received all day is still cold. 

His eyes land on the fourth and final person in their little group– their upperclassman. He’s also an Alpha, but his scent is far less nauseating. He stands tall in front of them, smiling pleasantly. Steve can’t help but notice the little dimple on his cheek. Then, he can’t help but notice his everything else. His hair is dark and wavy, half-tied up while the rest falls over his shoulders. He wears dark clothing, well-loved and well-cared for. A few chunky silver rings sit on his fingers, with the hint of a chain hiding underneath his black t-shirt.

As if noticing his gaze, the man glances over at Steve. His eyes, which Steve notes are brown, scan over Steve. One eyebrow quirks up. But it’s an amused look, not judgemental. Steve immediately likes him more than the rest.

“Alright, I guess we’ll get started,” he says, clapping his hands together once. “I’m Eddie Munson, third-year here at Harvard.”

His voice is nice too.

“Welcome to the hallowed halls of Harvard Law,” Eddie continues. His tone of voice makes the alliteration sound like a poem. “I know just how hard you’ve worked to get here, so congrats, first of all. Now, since you’ll be classmates for the next three years, the whole point of this is to introduce yourselves. So, who would like to go first?”

The cocky well-postured Alpha raises his hand, but only waits a second later before he starts talking.

“Aaron Schultz,” he starts. “I won a Fulbright and a Rhodes. I write financial software codes, but that’s a challenge I’ve outgrown. How many yachts can one man own?”

He laughs arrogantly. Steve likes him even less.

Yes, Steve’s family does own several yachts, one in the States and one in Italy where his mother’s side of the family is from. But that’s not the point. He doesn’t flaunt it like this asshole. And he laughs in that way that all of his father’s friends do. Like what they are saying is hilarious, but never really is. They are just so full of themselves that they think they are. 

Whatever else he says, Steve doesn’t bother listening to. 

The other Alpha goes next, and it again takes only one sentence for Steve to also not like him.

“Aaron Mitchell,” the Alpha says, tone flat and so deeply bored. He’s sprawled across the bench, one arm over the back of it. “I graduated first in my class from Princeton. I have an IQ of 187.”

Steve spies the anxious girl on the other end of the bench rolling her eyes. In the corner of Steve’s eye, Eddie shifts his weight. Steve glances over. Eddie is biting his bottom lip, no doubt holding in a response. Steve has to hold back his own. A bitchy comment is so readily available in the back of his mind.

“It’s been suggested that Stephen Hawking stole his Brief History of Time,” the Alpha even pauses, really showing off his “I’m smarter than everyone in the room” attitude, “from my fourth grade paper.”

As he talks, he scans the group. His eyes meet Steve’s. His expression shifts from blank and uninterested to interested. Like Steve is some easy Omega that’ll bend over for him because he’s a genius. Steve skin crawls. The Alpha is obviously a self-inflated prick. No thanks. 

Then, everyone’s attention shifts to the girl on the bench.

“Uh,” the girl starts, fidgeting with a stray thread on the bottom of her jacket. “Hi, I’m Robin Buckley. I went to Berkeley, where I graduated as a double major in linguistics and pre-law. I, uh, I also know five different languages.”

Out of the three, she seems the most genuine. Her Beta scent is soft and barely noticeable, which Steve finds refreshing.

“Damn,” Eddie says, impressed. “Which ones?”

Robin cracks a smile, looking a bit more comfortable for the first time. “French, Italian, Spanish, Pig Latin, and I’m learning Russian.”

“Damn,” Eddie repeats with a chuckle. “I’m barely fluent in English.”

Robin laughs with him. 

Then a beat passes, and they all look at Steve.

“Hi, I’m Steve Harrington. I’m a Virgo… I have a Bachelor’s in Fashion Merchandising from UCLA. Oh, I was president of my sorority, Delta Nu, as well. I also was in charge of any philanthropy events…” He’s generally a confident person, but finds that confidence faltering the more he talks. His answers are so different from the other’s, and he can tell by their looks. The two Alphas look disinterested and dismissive, and Robin looks downright cold. 

There’s a long beat of silence after he finishes talking. Eddie cuts in to save it.

“Cool. Congrats again on getting in,” he says. “You guys can keep talking, or head out. Up to you.”

The two Alphas leave without a word. Steve starts to turn to leave as well when Robin speaks up.

“Why are you here?” She asks bluntly.

Steve pauses, then turns back towards her. “Excuse me?”

Eddie’s eyes widen, but Steve is too busy staring at Robin to notice.

“Why are you here?” Robin repeats. “I mean, you’re from California… some sorority sister. Others worked really hard to get here, you know.”

There’s more she could say, but she doesn’t need to. He understands what she’s implying loud and clear. He also gets the distinct impression she doesn’t have much of a filter, but that just means that she had the guts to say what surely everyone else is thinking. 

But he worked hard too. 

“I… Um…” He doesn’t know what to say. 

Robin’s gaze is intense, while Eddie’s bounces between them nervously.

“I got accepted, just as you did,” is what Steve lands on.

Robin’s eyes narrow as she stares at him for a few, torturously long moments. Then, she gets up without a word and walks away. That leaves just Steve and Eddie.

Steve exhales slowly, then looks at Eddie. Eddie is looking right back at him with an unreadable expression. Steve hopes there’s no pity in it.

“It was nice to meet you,” Steve says quietly.

Eddie smiles awkwardly. “Uh yeah… nice to meet you too.”

Steve forces a smile, but he knows it barely looks like one. He lets it last for a few seconds, then he turns to leave. 

He worked hard to get here. He did the work. He’s here to prove he’s serious.

He keeps repeating it in his head as he walks back to his dorm.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve prepares for the first day of class, but not in the way most other law students would. 

While others are filling their bag with heavy textbooks, Steve is applying just the right amount of mascara. He’s making sure that his lips are glossy but not too glossy; that his hair falls the right way; that his jeans hug his ass just right. He coordinates– red high-tops that go with a deep red sweater that he’s loved for years, sleeves rolled up twice, showing off his toned forearms. To top it off, he sprays just a touch of vanilla-scented perfume into the dips of his collarbones to accentuate his scent, then he’s slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading off to class.

The campus is buzzing as he crosses it, full of undergrad and grad students alike. Excitement, and a touch of nervousness, stir in his gut. 

The crowd thins some as he steps into the correct building. That allows him to catch a glimpse of a familiar head of light brown hair and pale freckled skin.

Tommy. 

Tommy stands in front of a bulletin board, looking over the various flyers. 

The anxiousness in his stomach flares up for a moment. Steve pauses, forcing himself to take a deep breath. 

I’ve got this, he tells himself. He straightens up, keeping his head high as he resumes walking. In a very purposeful, calculated move, he walks right by Tommy, brushing against him just light enough to seem accidental.

Tommy turns, then makes a choked noise.

“Steve?” 

Steve pauses, waiting one second, then turns around. Tommy’s staring, eyebrows furrowed. 

 “Tommy?” He asks. His head tilts ever so slightly to the side. “Oh, I totally forgot you go here!”

“What… are you talking about?” Tommy asks. “I’m sorry, are you here to see me?”

“No. I go here.” Steve smiles. 

Tommy looks even more confused. “Go… where? Here?”

“Yeah! Harvard. Law school,” Steve chuckles. 

“I’m sorry, you… you got into Harvard Law?” Tommy asks, confused. 

“What, like it’s hard?” Steve tilts his head further. He plays it up a bit, voice a touch lighter. 

Tommy’s mouth drops open. He stares at Steve like he’s grown a second head. A long beat of silence passes between them.

“Hey, I have to go to class. But I’m so excited to see you here!” Steve smiles. “How about we catch up after class, outside by the benches?”

Tommy makes a series of aborted noises, and Steve knows that he’s got Tommy’s head spinning in circles. Just how he wants. Make him regret ever breaking up with Steve.

“Bye!” Steve waves his fingers with a large smile. He doesn’t let Tommy reply before he’s spinning on his toes and heading off in the direction of class. 

Step one of his totally brilliant plan was to get to Harvard Law. Step two now underway– kick butt and prove to Tommy that he’s serious.

 

Steve feels, yet again, out of place in class. 

Surprise surprise, everyone is still staring at him as he takes his seat in the right side of the front row. Everyone is dressed in such drab colors, while Steve pops out in his red sweater. They’re all unpacking big laptops and books, and all Steve has is a soft blue tablet and matching e-pencil. 

He takes it all in as others still filter into the room. The lecture hall is kind of stuffy and the seats squeak. Steve spies a few drawings etched into the old wooden desktop. He almost snorts at the mental image of a law student scratching the iconic s into the corner of their desk. 

A snotty laugh from a few behind him pulls him out of the image. 

Inconspicuously, he half-turns to pretend to grab something from his bag. It allows him to glance at the person behind him. 

An Omega girl with ginger hair sits two rows back and is looking at him. She’s leaning over to the girl next to her to obviously gossip. She laughs at whatever the other girl says. Her smirk is ugly, in Steve’s opinion. (She could also use some assistance on her choice of lipstick color– it is so not her shade.) She says something back in return, a most likely bitchy statement lost in the noise of other students talking, and her eyes shift from the girl back to Steve. He looks away before their eyes can meet. 

But before he can turn back around, a voice from the front of the room speaks up. All conversation goes silent within a second as attention is drawn to the man at the front of the room. The man standing in front of them all has bright white hair and a severe expression. Dr. Brenner is written on the chalkboard behind him.

Steve swallows thickly. Now Step Two really begins.

 

Notes:

Introduced some familiar faces in this chapter!!! I am sad to say though that I had to cut some truly iconic scenes from the movie/musical (rip Paulette, love you so much), because I just couldn't make it work. To hopefully make up for it, I've combined scenes/dialogue from both with some original stuff. There's some things coming up that I'm really excited to write and share with you!!! I truly hope y'all like it :D <3<3

If you'd like to keep up with me in between updates, I have a twitter that I'm decently active on. Also, for my north American friends, enjoy the solar eclipse tomorrow! I'm driving over two hours to see it, haha. I can't wait :D

Chapter 4: “I just wish I had never gone to Harvard!”

Summary:

The first day of classes do not go well, whatsoever.

Notes:

A good chunk of dialogue for the first half of this chapter comes from the musical. Blood in the Water is a very very good song imo.

A man stands at the front of the classroom with a severe expression. Dr. Brenner is written on the chalkboard behind him.

“Now, when you choose a law career, there’s this joke you’re bound to hear,” Dr. Brenner says. His voice fills the room. “A lawyer is a shark.”

He emphasizes the word, eyes scanning across them all. Everyone is silent. Steve feels like he’s about to break into a sweat. 

“Ignore that, it’s simplistic and it’s dumb. Only some of you will turn out sharks, only some,” Brenner pauses, a cold smile slowly growing on his face. “The rest are chum.”

The change in the room is obvious. A few scents shift. The anxiety is almost palpable.

“I have decades of experience in this profession. I know what makes a good lawyer, what you need to do to survive. Unfortunately, not all of you are cut out for it. I know it’s hard to hear, but it is the plain truth.” Brenner rounds the desk at the front of his room to grab something out of his bag. “To survive, you need to acquire a taste for blood in the water.”

Brenner turns back to the room, holding a pad of paper. He scans the room once more. Despite all of the desks being angled down towards the front of the room, it feels like Brenner is lording above them. 

“You are nothing until the thrill of a kill becomes your only law,” he says strongly. 

The person sitting on Steve’s left nervously shifts in their seat. Steve feels the same damn way but forces himself to stay still.

“Mr. Schultz,” Brenner says, glancing down at the pad in his hands. “I have a hypothetical question. A warmup for today. Would you be willing to defend the following banker accused of fraud?” 

Brenner, still holding the pad, crosses his hands behind his back. His gaze is centered on the cocky Alpha from yesterday’s meet-and-greet. All eyes in the room shift towards the student in question, who sits in the center of the third row.

“A kind old grandmother took her savings and she sent it off to your client. All that she had saved since she was born, and well, he promised to invest it. Instead, he spent it on prostitutes, heroin, and porn,” Brenner explains.

Schultz scoffs. “No, I would not take that case.”

“Wrong! It is a win unless you’re lazy.” Brenner clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Grandma is broke. All she can afford is some hack from legal aid. Put her on the stand and called her old and crazy. Your client goes free, and he can get you high and laid if you so desire.”

Schultz makes a half-baked noise of protest, but Brenner continues on. 

“You need to look for the blood in the water. Your moral codes are a flaw.”

Steve doesn’t know what to think. The voice in the back of his mind is telling him that this is wrong, that he needs to leave. He's not cut out for this sort of… ruthlessness. But no, he needs to be here, he needs to prove to Tommy that he’s serious. But… could he do this? Could he really be some kind of bloodthirsty shark? 

His mind is a swirling mess, and he misses another one of Brenner’s hypotheticals. A student in a different row is sputtering too, while Brenner smirks.

“Hard to argue when you’re too mad to speak, yes? Your employment will be very quickly ended when they see how your emotions make you weak.” Brenner nearly laughs as he speaks. Like he’s deriving a sick sort of pleasure by making the first-years squirm in their seats.

“There is a point to this, I promise you that,” Brenner says. “I run a billion dollar law firm. I select four new interns every year. From this class, I will select four young sharks whom I respect. This internship guarantees your career. Do you follow me?”

The room nods weakly. Brenner hums a single, short note. 

“Good. Let the games begin.”

That same person on Steve’s left now looks nauseous. Thank god they’re a Beta, or else they might’ve made the rest of them sick too just by their scent. Steve’s brain is too scrambled to even think about how his own scent is. 

Steve swallows, looking down at the desk. His tablet is unlocked, open to a clean document for him to write in. It’s then that he realizes just how tightly he’s gripping his e-pencil. It’s a miracle it hasn’t snapped in two.

“Mr. Harrington.”

The call of his name makes Steve’s head fly up. 

Brenner is staring him down, only a few feet in front of him. 

He suddenly regrets picking a first row seat.

“Would you summarize the case of State of Indiana v Hearn, from your reading?” 

Steve panics. Brenner notices immediately, one eyebrow slowly rising.

“Um… I’m sorry, I didn’t…” Steve stutters. 

“Yes?” Brenner prompts, knowing and possibly a smidge malicious.

“I didn’t know there was assigned reading. I mean, it’s the first day of class.” Steve says a little too much– his filter slipping under the weight of everyone’s eyes.

(Which is bizarre, Steve is used to having the attention of the room. So why the hell is this making him such a wreck?)

“You have guts,” Brenner remarks in an unreadable tone. He shifts his focus without warning, to a different unfortunate victim.

“Ms. Perkins. Let us say you teach a class at Harvard Law School, a position that you are rightfully proud of. But a student on whom you call hasn’t read the case at all. Should you let it go or–”

“No,” the girl cuts in with confidence. “I’d throw them out.”

Steve whips around in his chair. 

The ginger Omega jerk from earlier is staring right at him. She smirks. 

Brenner hums once again, far more considering this time. 

“Well, you’ve heard your classmate.” Brenner says, drawing Steve’s attention back. Brenner looks deeply pleased by Perkins’ verdict. His gaze is unwavering, pressing down on Steve like a dumbbell on his chest. 

A beat passes.

“Well?” Brenner raises an eyebrow.

It clicks then. It’s getting fucking kicked out on the first fucking day of class. He scrambles to shove his tablet into his bag.

“Yes, you have guts Mr. Harrington,” Brenner says as he watches Steve pack up with a gleeful look in his eye. “But they have just been spilled. I recommend you return only when you are ready to learn.”

As Steve gets up, he throws a glare over his shoulder at that Perkins bitch. She lifts her hand just barely, waving her fingers as she smirks condescendingly.

Every single eye in the room follows him as he leaves. 

It’s a shame the doors are set to close slowly, or else he’d let it slam behind him.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

He manages to keep in the tears until he finds a bench in a quiet, secluded corner of the quad. They start the second his ass hits the bench though.

His eyes burn, and he hides his face in his hands. There’s no use in trying to mask it though– his shoulders shake as his breath hitches, and the scent of misery radiates from him. Fortunately, most students have class currently, so there’s few around to witness his breakdown.

He just… he feels so fucking stupid.

Like yeah, he got here. He did the work to get here. That means he’s smart, right? But everyone is looking down on him. That girl from the day before, Robin, was so cold to him. Judgmental eyes follow what feels like his every move. And let’s not forget his fucking parents. 

It just feels like Brenner kicking him out of class was the icing on the cake. 

He doesn’t belong here, that much is obvious. 

Steve chokes back a sob. 

All this time he wasted to get here. All the work and hours sacrificed, only to amount to nothing. Fuck… his parents are going to be pissed. There’s no way he can stay here, and no way he can go back home. What is he going to do?

“Um… are you okay?”

A sudden question makes him jump. He looks up, barely moving his hands away from his eyes.

Steve recognizes the stranger immediately. It’s Eddie.

Eddie stands in front of him, so obviously awkward. 

Steve sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. Ew.

“Everything’s great,” he replies, unable to hold in the sarcasm. “Fucking perfect.”

“Uh…” Eddie says. “I don’t think I believe you.”

Steve sniffles again, trying to blink away the tears. He knows it’s no use, but tries anyway. 

“Seriously though, is everything okay?” Eddie asks, gaze soft. 

Normally, Steve wouldn't be opening up to strangers like this, but he's so fucking upset it's hard to care.

“No. Nothing’s okay. I was kicked out of class. I didn’t know we had reading for the first day of class, because like, who does that? It’s syllabus day?” Steve explains, waving his vaguely. “So I get called on, and didn’t know the answer. Then he turns to this… this prissy bitch and she says I should be kicked out!”

Eddie whistles lowly. He shifts his bag off his shoulder and then sits down on the other side of the bench. 

“Was it Brenner?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods miserably. “Are they all like that? That if you don’t know the answer, they’re just going to kick you out?” 

“Just Brenner. He’s uh… he’s just like that,” Eddie replies.

Steve groans. “ Great. Fantastic.”

“He also made me cry once. Not in class, nah. I waited until I got back to my room to do that,” Eddie continues.

Steve can’t help the miserable noise he makes as he buries his face back in his hands. Great, now not only is he ashamed about being kicked out on his first day, but he’s also ashamed for crying in public.

Eddie winces. “Shit– I’m–”

“It’s okay,” Steve cuts in, shaking his head. “He was just doing what everyone else was thinking.”

Eddie lets a beat pass as he tries to figure out what Steve means. 

“What do you mean?” He asks after a moment. 

Steve snorts, an ugly noise. “Basically telling me I’m an idiot. That I don’t belong. I mean, you were there with Robin. I don’t belong here.”

“That’s not true,” Eddie says.

At that, Steve looks back at him. The edges of his vision are hazy with tears. 

“Like you told her, you got in here, right? Harvard doesn’t just let anyone in,” Eddie says. One corner of his mouth moves up in a little smile. “I’m still surprised they let my ass in.”

Steve shakes his head again. “But you… you fit in. You’re all… academic and serious…”

Eddie laughs. It’s so bright and light. Steve ignores the twitching feeling deep in his chest. 

“I’m really not, Stevie.”

The old nickname stirs something in Steve. 

While Eddie says it so nicely, it reminds Steve of Tommy. In the early stages of their relationship, Tommy called him Stevie. Said it so lovingly. But now Steve can look back on it and realize that towards the end, not only did Tommy stop using Stevie, he stopped using any pet-names. 

The reminder of it brings forth a new wave of tears. 

There’s no way he’s going to prove himself to Tommy.

Steve lets out a half-choked sob, scrubbing harshly at the tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Eddie jolts, playful smile vanishing. His hands lift a few inches in the air, like he wants to reach out to comfort Steve. “Oh, shit– I’m sorry–”

“I just wish I had never gone to Harvard.” Steve sobs. “I’m too stupid. I’m not serious enough. Everyone is so judgmental and I don’t know anybody and nobody likes me. I never should’ve come here.”

Eddie scoots a little closer. His bag sits between them, acting as a small barrier. 

As he comes closer, Steve gets a whiff of his Alpha scent. It’s calm, purposefully so. Smokey and warm, like a crackling campfire. There’s a hint of sweetness, like a marshmallow roasting over the flames. 

A small, minute amount of tension leaves Steve’s shoulders. 

“Hey,” Eddie says softly, just as soft as his scent. “I like you.”

Steve sniffles. “You don’t even know me. You probably think I’m some fucking air-headed–”

“No, I don’t think that.” Eddie shakes his head. 

Steve looks over at him. 

“I’m not going to lie. I kinda hate doing that. But, I definitely would’ve thought that if I was in high school. I was an asshole back then, like seriously, but I don’t think that anymore.” Eddie says. His little smile returns.  “Yeah, I do barely know you, but you seem nice… and not stupid.”

Steve keeps Eddie’s gaze for a long moment. 

The Alpha feels… he feels so genuine. He doesn’t feel like he’s just humoring a distressed Omega, saying anything to make that noxious miserable-Omega-smell fade. 

It feels like a breath of fresh air. 

“But you know me,” Eddie continues after a moment, when Steve doesn’t reply. He presses his hand flat against his chest. His expression changes from a little playful to a form of seriousness that is also over the top. “I’m Eddie Munson. Third year Harvard Law student. If I’m not busting my ass in class or at my TA position, I like to read fantasy novels and listen to metal.”

Steve can’t help the little laugh he lets out. “You, metal music?”

Eddie’s smile returns, brighter than before. 

“What, a lawyer can’t headbang and shred on his guitar?” He jokes, miming the shredding on an air guitar.

Steve smiles, even though it’s still weak. 

“There. You just met someone,” Eddie says. “Now you can’t tell me you don’t know anyone.”

Steve laughs again. He wipes at his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. 

“Now, gimme your phone.” Eddie holds his hand out.

“Excuse me?” Steve asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Give me your phone. I’m giving you my number so now you don’t just know someone, you are friends with someone,” Eddie explains. Then he opens and closes his hand a few times in a gimme gimme motion.

Steve rolls his eyes, but his amusement is obvious. He reaches for his bag, which he had unceremoniously dumped at his feet when he sat down. He then unlocks it, opens his contacts, and passes it to Eddie.

He watches as Eddie taps at his screen.

A thought crosses his mind. 

If he had met Eddie in high school, he probably would’ve been judgmental too. From just this conversation, he can tell Eddie is a loud, energetic guy who shows his emotions proudly. This whole time, he’s been gesturing with his hands or jiggling his leg or moving in some way. He’s in constant motion, the sunlight catching on the silver rings on his fingers or in the frizzy mass of curls he calls hair. 

(Steve wants to sit him down and teach him how to care for those curls– they’re so obviously mistreated and he could have such beautiful hair if he just–)

Steve pushes away that thought. Forces it into a little box and throws said box into the back of his mind. Now is not the time.

But anyway . He probably would’ve judged Eddie back then. So… he supposes he feels some sort of comfort in the fact that Eddie would’ve judged him too, but they’re not judging each other currently.

Eddie hands him his phone back. And it’s like he knows that Steve is thinking about high school–

“You know, in high school I was known to adopt lost sheep,” Eddie says with a teasing lilt and smile. “You’re a little more preppy than most of my sheep though.”

Steve laughs, lighter than before. “Wow, thanks.”

“Not that there’s a problem with that!” Eddie says, holding his hands up in surrender. “Promise. Not a problem. I just mean that you’re lost. I’ve been there before.”

His playful smile shifts into something softer, warmer. 

“Thank you,” Steve says again. This time, warmer and softer too. 

“Not a problem, Stevie.” 

Before, the nickname stung. But this time, maybe it’s not so bad. Stevie sounds really nice in Eddie’s voice…

“Steve?” A new voice asks.

Eddie and Steve turn together. In front of them stands Tommy, awkwardly holding onto the strap of his backpack. Steve’s stomach jumps without warning. 

“I’ve got to go, but thanks so much Eddie,” Steve says. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah… of course,” Eddie replies with a nod. 

Steve waves, just a little wiggle of his fingers, then he picks up his bag. He leaves Eddie behind on the bench to walk up to Tommy.

“So, how was your first class?” Steve asks once he’s close enough. 

“It was… okay,” Tommy says. “Um… how was your’s?”

Steve plasters on a fake smile. 

“It was okay. I mean, this horrible preppy girl tried to make me look bad, but other than that it was fine,” he lies easily. Now that the tears are out and wiped away, it’s easy to pretend that all is well. “Anyway, how was your summer?”

Tommy shifts his weight. “Good, it was good, I guess.”

Another question is on the tip of Steve’s tongue when a hand suddenly appears, wrapping around Tommy’s bicep. Tommy startles, then laughs nervously.

“Oh… Steve, have you met Carol?” Tommy asks, half-turning towards the new person in the conversation.

And wouldn’t you know it, it’s that horrible preppy girl from class, smiling smugly.

Steve feels like the ground drops out from underneath him.

 

Notes:

As a tag says, if characters are out of character, sssssssh. Is Eddie a smidge out of character? Possibly. But I think that this version of Eddie is more confident and less antagonistic of those he sees as prep/jock types. A third-time senior would not make it into Harvard, haha, so he's still the silly theatrical metal rat we know and love, just more confident in himself. Plus, he's a sucker for a pretty boy and couldn't not talk to Steve.

But another thing--
Updates will most likely become even more sporadic since I finally got my first post-college internship! I'll be working like a dog with long hours, but it's what I love doing so hopefully I'll be happy. That means though that my time to write will changing. I'm working on chapter 7 right now, so I do have the next few written, but I like to have some chapters in a backlog just in case. But I will not be abandoning this, even if it kills me! I'm having a blast with this and I'm determined to see it through to the end.
I just wanted to let you guys know the state of things, since all of you have been so wonderfully supportive of this :D I seriously cannot thank yall enough. To make up for things, the next two chapters are seriously massive. They're dense too, but I didn't want to break any of it up. I really hope you like what's to come!

So, if you want to keep up with me in between updates, I have a twitter where I'm decently active.

Chapter 5: "It's like, a smart people thing."

Summary:

Things go from bad to worse as the semester progresses. Steve is seriously regretting this.

Notes:

*exhales heavily* hi friends, been a bit. the end note is a bit of a novel explaining the state of my life hahaha
but we are moving into the part of the fic with some real long chapters! I'm wrapping up writing chapter 7 right now and my god, the next few are long hahaha. I wanted to include a scene in this chapter, but I ended up pushing it to the next because it got too long lmao

hope you enjoy!!

“Have you met Carol?” Tommy asks. 

Carol’s smiling smugly, hand curled possessively around Tommy’s arm. 

Steve feels like the floor drops out from underneath him.

“Yeah… I think we had our first class together,” Steve lies, voice weak. 

Carol picks up on it without hesitation. 

“Carol Perkins,” she replies. There’s a malicious glint in her eye. Her scent is as sour as her attitude. What should normally be a sweet, light apple scent is pungent and tart. “I’m his fiance.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

Steve sees it now. The hand wrapped around Tommy has a massive, glittering rock on the third finger. It is stunning, Steve knows immediately it’s worth a hell of a lot. 

Steve laughs, deliriously. “I-I’m sorry. I just hallucinated, what did you say?”

Carol snorts, while Tommy chuckles nervously.

“Yeah… she was my girlfriend in prep school,” he says awkwardly. “We reconnected over the summer. At my grandmother’s birthday party.”

Steve’s thrust right back into mourning. He was so excited for that birthday party. Tommy’s grandmother is such a lovely woman… it had been heartbreaking when Steve had to cancel his plane ticket.

“Tommy told me all about you,” Carol says with such sharp emphasis that Steve wishes he could dig into her brain so he could find out how much she knew. Like did she know about their relationship, or like… Steve’s most embarrassing moments? Or about their sex lives?

“But he didn’t tell me you’d be here…” She turns to Tommy to give him the stink-eye. Steve will give her one thing and one thing only– it is a well-crafted, bitchy stink-eye. 

“Pooh-bear, I didn’t know he would be here,” Tommy whispers, leaning in closer to Carol.

Steve can almost hear his heart breaking. 

Pooh-bear. That was Tommy’s name, just for him…

“Um. Excuse me,” Steve says, unable to keep his voice from shaking. His eyes are burning once again. 

He has to get the hell out of here.

He can feel Carol’s gaze like an oppressive blanket on his shoulders as he walks away.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve manages to get through the rest of the day. He does not get kicked out of any other classes. Because of how his first class ended, he picks empty seats in the middle rows for the remainder of the day, hoping that he doesn’t stand out.

(He does stand out though; the looks of various negative flavors still follow him. But he doesn’t get singled out by any of the professors… so small mercies.)

He gets back to his dorm and lets his bag slide off his shoulder and hit the floor with a thunk. He flops face-first onto the bed with the same dismal attitude. 

The entire day has felt like that sinking feeling when you aced all the questions on your math homework, only to start the exam and discover that your professor has cranked the difficulty up by a thousand. 

Steve basically aced the LSATs. Top percentile. If that’s the prerequisite to being here, shouldn’t he feel a bit more fucking prepared for this? 

He groans into his comforter. 

As if on cue, his phone buzzes. He slaps his hand around blindly, trying to find it without lifting his head. He manages to find it by nearly knocking it off the bed. 

 

[Chris🩷🩷] soooooo how was your first day?

 

Steve doesn’t bother typing a response. He goes straight to the call button.

 

“I can’t believe he’s already engaged,” Chrissy complains after Steve finishes regaling the tale of his morning.

“They were together in prep school…” Steve says. He’s laying on his back now, having exchanged his jeans for a soft pair of sweats.

“Okay, but there’s like four years of time apart. They could be completely different people! I’m so not the same person I was my freshman year,” Chrissy replies. 

Steve sighs. She does have a point.

“Is she even pretty?” Chrissy asks.

“She’s not… terrible. Her lipstick shade was definitely not her color… but some mascara would treat her nicely,” Steve says. “She’s a ginger, so if she wasn’t such a bitch, it’d be cute.”

“Ugh, I can picture it in my mind.” Chrissy groans.

Steve closes his eyes, laying back against the pillows in his nest. It smells so… empty. Chrissy’s scent has been washed off in the move.

A pang of homesickness hits him right in the heart. 

With his eyes closed, he can almost see Chrissy perfectly. She’s also in bed, laying on her stomach with her legs crossed at the ankles, and hugging a pillow. It’s how she always sat when they were gossiping. She took up one half the nest, while Steve laid on his back in the other. 

He misses her so much. 

“And the ring?” 

“Massive.”

“Ew, overcompensating much?”

There’s a pause, then the two burst into laughter.

The feeling of homesickness grows. Steve pushes it down.

“That means you’re just going to have to steal him back,” Chrissy says, kind of out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“Steal him back,” she repeats. “You told me you had this whole plan to get him back. I mean, you’ve got an extra challenge now… but I know Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington does not back down from a challenge.”

That is very true. It is both a strength and a problem. 

Steve groans, planting his free hand over his eyes. Chrissy giggles, knowing that she’s won. 

 

After his pep talk from Chrissy, Steve starts to come up with a plan. Or well, one more elaborate than his first plan of Step 1– get to Harvard, Step 2- kick butt, Step 3– win Tommy back. 

He buys one of those whiteboards that’s also a calendar to hang on the back of his door. With all the various colors of markers that came with the board, he writes out his schedule and to-do-lists, color-coded of course. Having it all visibly written out makes it seem less intimidating. It’s in more manageable pieces, so he can see what all needs to be done on a week by week basis. 

The board is an absolute mess by the time he’s done. The boxes are crammed with things like grocery store runs and trips to the gym, tucked in between class time and study sessions. 

But, it’s a plan. It’s a written out, thought out plan. He no longer feels like he’s flying blind. 

He’s got this.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve stands in the hallway, a few doors down from Dr. Brenner’s class the following day, trying to swallow down his nerves. Maybe he doesn’t got this. 

“Ready for class?”

A voice right next to Steve causes him to jump. He whirls around, ready to throw a well-aimed kick at whoever just approached him. He can tell by scent it’s an Alpha, and he is not putting up with that shit today. 

Whoever it is laughs, taking one large step back. Steve’s ready to tell them off for scaring him, but then he sees that it’s Eddie.

“Jesus, why’d you do that?” Steve asks, not as frustrated as he’d like.

“You looked like you were about to pass out,” Eddie says with a playful smile. He steps back in, moving closer in the busy hallway. “You’re going to do just fine.”

“I hope so... I did the reading. Twice.” Steve says, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. 

“You got this.” Eddie nods once confidently. Then he ducks his head and sweeps his arm out dramatically in the direction of the classroom. “Now, after you.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrow. “Are you in a first-year course?”

Eddie, keeping his arm out, tilts his head back up. 

“Oh, god no.” He shakes his head. He’s got his hair down today, the messy curls bouncing with him.  “I’m Brenner’s TA.”

Steve nods.

But then it clicks.

“So, wait… you saw me get kicked out yesterday?” 

Eddie brings his arm back in to scratch at the back of his neck. He smiles sheepishly. 

Steve groans, running a hand over his face. He wants to curl up into a ball and cry. Maybe die, too. Of course Eddie saw. Just his fuckin’ luck.

“Okay, yeah, I did, but like I said, I’ve been there before,” Eddie says quickly. “I mean, I got kicked out but now I’m his damn TA. Sooo , you can turn it around.”

It’s not entirely about that. It’s partially about that, yes, but it’s mostly about how the only friend he’s made so far has been witness to his embarrassment. 

“You’ll be fine. Promise.” Eddie’s voice softens. 

Steve lets his hand drop so he can meet Eddie’s eyes. They’re soft too; warm despite the ugly fluorescent lighting in the hallway. 

“Now come on. He despises tardiness. Like seriously. It’s better to skip completely than show up late,” Eddie says with a small smile.

Eddie’s joke helps the tension fade from Steve. Steve nods, then waves loosely in the right direction.

“Okay, lead the way then,” he says.

Eddie’s smile broadens and he half-bows before turning away. Steve laughs at the overdramatic motion and follows after him.

 

Class goes considerably better today. Steve doesn’t get called on. He pays attention and takes notes. Where the rest of the class has laptops, he just has his tablet, so his hand is aching by the end of class. He’s in the midst of cracking his knuckles when Eddie appears again.

“Told you you’d be fine,” Eddie says, standing in front of Steve’s desk. 

“Yeah, except now my hand is cramping,” Steve jokes. 

“Oh, a pain I know well,” Eddie says wistfully, resting a hand on his chest, like he’s some old geezer reminiscing on the good ol’ days. “You’ll have your calluses soon.”

Steve chuckles as he finishes packing his things up. “You’re not that much older than me.”

Eddie snorts, then holds out both of his hands. “Yeah, but I also play guitar. Used to make my fingers bleed.”

The Alpha wiggles his fingers for emphasis. Steve looks at them for a long moment. 

Eddie’s hands are rough and calloused, with long, bony fingers wrapped in silver. His nails are painted too, the black polish chipped and in desperate need of repainting.

“How… metal,” Steve says, deadpan as he stands up.

Eddie laughs, letting his hands drop. “ Exactly. You get it, Stevie.”

Stevie. 

Steve’s unable to hold in a smile. 

The room is emptying quickly, students in a rush to elsewhere or just not here . They’re one of the few people left, besides Dr. Brenner, who is putting things away in his own bag. He was just as intimidating today. Steve kept his head down to try and avoid that icy gaze. 

“Munson,” Dr. Brenner says, loud in spite of the near-empty room. “A word.”

Eddie’s smile dims, and he ducks his head in a single short nod.

“See ya later,” he murmurs, then turns towards the professor.

Steve takes that as his cue to leave. He slings his bag over his shoulder, then heads out. But, that means he can start actually using his schedule! Off to the library to start on the next reading assignment. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

The first week of classes are done before Steve knows it. The course schedule is weird here. The classes are clumped together, like he takes the same class two days in a row, instead of every other day, then that’s it for the week. But he’s starting to adjust, making minor changes to his schedule as things start to settle in. 

It’s just… it’s not easy. Law textbooks are so dense . The words on the page are small and close together. Each sentence is long and wordy, full of a delightful term Steve has just learned: legalese. Like one sentence is eight lines long. It’s insane. It’s taking him hours to finish these reading assignments. 

But he powers through. He’s determined. 

Fortunately, he hears a whisper Friday morning as he’s ready to leave class.

Two girls are talking next to him as he packs up, something about a study group.

“Do you think we could meet at 5 tomorrow?” One girl asks the other. 

“Uh… I can ask,” the other replies.

Steve doesn’t mean to eavesdrop but that’s exactly what he needs right now. 

“Hi, sorry, but are you guys talking about study groups?” He asks, turning towards them.

Both girls look over at him in varying degrees of awkwardness and annoyance. He does feel bad for interrupting, but he’s desperate. 

“Uh… yeah,” the first girl says. She looks more awkward than the other. 

“Is there some kind of sign up for them? Or do you just… ask around?” Steve asks. 

“You ask around,” the second answers, her tone flat and cold. She’s nearly glaring at Steve. Her scent is sour with annoyance. 

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Steve says, forcing a smile. 

The first girl returns it awkwardly, while the second just turns away.

Steve remembers seeing Tommy in the library this week, sitting at a table with a handful of their classmates. Ah-ha, must be a study group! It’s perfect.

 

The following afternoon, Steve steps into the library with his books in hand. 

The library is buzzing, as much as it can be for being a library. Nearly all of the tables are occupied, their inhabitants leaning close to whisper. Steve wanders through, trying to spot Tommy. There’s just people everywhere. Yeah, when he was in undergrad, he wasn’t typically in a library on a Saturday, but the few times it was necessary, it wasn’t this busy. Ivy Leagues are a whole different world. 

He’s nearly ready to give up when he finally spots Tommy sitting at a table in the corner. Carol and a few others are sitting with him, but Steve does not let that deter him. He takes a deep breath, straightening his back and putting on an easy-going smile. Then he walks over.

“Hi,” he says as he steps up to the head of the table.

The five people at the table all look up. Nearly every inch of the table is covered– laptops, textbooks, and notes are all laid out where their owners are bent over them. Tommy and Carol sit across from one another. Tommy looks confused, while Carol looks like she just bit into a lemon. She smells like it too, her Omega scent all prickly and making Steve feel like he needs to sneeze.

“Oh… Steve,” Tommy says slowly, eyebrows furrowing. “What are you doing here?”

“I was wondering if I could join your study group,” Steve replies. 

Carol scoffs, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. Our group is full.”

Tommy looks like he’s about to say something, but Carol glares at him. He looks down at the textbook in front of him.

“Oh… is this like an RSVP thing?” Steve tries to joke to break some of the tension. 

Carol snorts, and the girl sitting to her left outright laughs. She looks even more bitchy than Carol, which has to be saying something about her character. 

“No,” she says. She tilts her head, widening her eyes and forcing her voice higher in an over-the-top valley girl accent. “It’s like a smart people thing.”

She lifts her voice even higher at the end, making the statement sound like a question. The jab is so obvious. 

Steve’s smile fades. 

“And as Carol said, we’re full,” the girl continues.

“We can make room for one more,” Tommy cuts in. 

Carol’s glare intensifies. Simultaneously, she shifts in her chair, there’s a thump , and Tommy jumps.

“We’ve already assigned the outlines,” Carol says tensely, laser-focused on Tommy. Then, she looks up at Steve with a look full of fake sympathy. “The answer is no.”

Steve looks at everyone. Tommy is looking back down to avoid Steve’s gaze. The other two are people he vaguely recognizes from class, also looking down. The girl next to Carol is smiling with far too much teeth. Her, along with Carol, glare at Steve.

“Oh… um… I’ll just leave then,” Steve says weakly. “Have fun.”

Tommy looks up for a moment, giving him a sad-looking smile. Steve swallows thickly. He slowly turns away, forcing himself to keep his chin up.

As he walks away, he feels another set of eyes on him. He glances over to a table on the other side of the room. Among another group of his classmates, he sees Robin staring right at him with an unreadable expression.

Steve swallows again, and looks down at the books in his arms.

This isn’t going to be easy. Yeah, he wanted to join Tommy’s study group, but he needed to join any study group if he wanted to understand what the hell was actually going on. But it seems like he’s on his own for this. 

He blinks quickly as he steps outside. He’s not going to keep crying over all this. He’s got to show he’s serious, and that doesn’t include tears. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

As classes get more intense, Steve finds himself falling behind. And honestly? Regretting this.

He’s never been the strongest reader, so why the hell did he think he could just go to law school and read all these fucking textbooks and essays and legal documents? Why did he think he could just listen to the lectures in class and everything would just make sense? Everyone around him seems to be doing just fine, giving wonderful, satisfactory answers when called on in class, while Steve keeps his head down to avoid the professor’s gaze in hopes that he’s ignored.

It doesn’t help that he feels more alone than he ever has before. Which is saying something, because he grew up almost entirely by himself while his parents were jetting across the globe for whatever reason. He at least had Chrissy then. Here, he has nobody. Yeah… Eddie is nice, but Eddie’s busy with his own life and his own studies. Steve doesn’t want to unload all of his bullshit onto him. They aren’t close enough. They see each other in Brenner’s class and at various times around campus, where they spend a few minutes at a time talking about nothing all that important. It’s nice, but… but not enough.

He calls Chrissy as much as he can, but there’s only so much he can do when the only person he really sees as pack is all the way across the country. 

So it’s easy to say that things are not going well.

August passes by in a hurry, then autumn comes in fast in September. Soon, it’s colder than it ever was in L.A., and Steve is miserable. He’s not made for weather like this, so he bundles up before trudging across campus to classes. 

In September, the leaves start falling from the trees at the same time as Steve’s grades fall. At this rate, he’s scared he’s going to flunk out. It’s fucking embarrassing , to the point where he doesn’t even tell Chrissy just how poorly he’s doing.

He is miserable. 

Which is probably why what happens next happens.

 

It is late October, and Steve is trying to hold back a yawn as he walks up the steps to the floor his dorm is on. He needs a fucking nap, desperately. Maybe he can squeeze in a power nap… if he can’t, he’s cracking open a Red Bull and hoping for the best. 

As he pushes open the door to his floor, he hears voices from down the hall.

“... 8 o’clock, at 45 Dunston,” someone says.

“We’ll be there,” another person says. 

Steve actually yawns this time.

“Oh, and it’s BYOB,” the first person says.

Oh, is that–!? the voice in the back of Steve’s mind chimes in. 

“It’ll be a really nice party,” the first person continues.

Steve feels a flicker of hope in his chest. A party. A chance to grab a beer, dance a bit, and fucking unwind. Maybe flirt a little too. Perfect. Exactly what he needs right now.

“Is someone at this school actually having a party?” He says as he turns the corner to his hallway. 

He nearly runs right into one Carol Perkins, and her friend who he now knows is an Omega named Nicole. Fortunately, he stops just in time. 

The two girls stare at him once again. They seem to be very good at doing that whenever they look at Steve. In sync, they glance at each other, then back to Steve. The weight of their eyes is unnerving, but Steve does his best to ignore it. He’s largely avoided them since the study group thing a while back. He’s been a little bit preoccupied with trying to not fail his classes.

(Which is frustrating on so many levels. Like he doesn’t even have time to try and talk to Tommy, so Carol is just sinking her ugly unpolished claws further into him.)

But anyway, Steve kind of remembers why he avoids talking to them. The two Omega girls are both ginger, so with their matching disinterested stares, it kind of feels like he’s standing in front of those twins from the Shining. If instead of wearing the same dresses, they both wore unflattering, bland business-casual sweaters and slacks. 

“But it’s a costume party,” Carol says quickly, with a glance to Nicole, “so you probably wouldn’t want to come.”

She is so wrong. Steve loves a good costume party. Just ask anyone in Greek row back home.

“Oh, I love costume parties,” Steve replies, one corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. That small flicker of hope actually grows a bit. This could actually, really be a chance to unwind.

“Then I guess we’ll see you there,” Carol says. There’s a little smile on her face with an emotion Steve can’t figure out is positive or negative. She glances over at Nicole, and they once again share an unreadable look. 

Steve nods, smiling a little himself. 

The two girls turn away, and take a few steps down the hall before Carol pauses. She half-turns back to meet Steve’s eye.

“It’s this Saturday. 45 Dunston street,” she says to remind him.

“Sounds great.” Steve gives a weak, exhausted thumbs up. 

Carol nods once, then turns back around. Steve watches them turn out of the hall. He hears the stairway door creak open, then shut. 

He exhales slowly. A party. Hell yes. 

(But unfortunately, he does not have time for a power nap before he has to study.)

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

“When was the last time you actually slept?” Eddie asks the following morning as they leave Brenner’s class.

Today, Steve retained absolutely nothing from class, just scribbled down notes and hoped that when he read it back later, it’d make sense.

“Uh…” is Steve’s very eloquent answer.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. “Fuck, Stevie…”

“I just… I don’t have time,” Steve sighs heavily. He scrubs a hand over his eyes. “Even if I did, I’m so stressed out, it takes me forever to fall asleep.”

Eddie presses his lips into a flat line as he hums consideringly. 

The hallway is packed around them. Several classes are getting out at once, so it’s a big of a struggle to get to the main doors. It forces Eddie and Steve to walk shoulder-to-shoulder. 

“What you need is a break,” Eddie says after a moment of thinking. “My band has a show this weekend, for Halloween. Place is gonna be packed.”

“I don’t think that’s really my… scene,” Steve replies, shaking his head. 

He knows enough about Eddie to know that he’s in a metal band. Steve is very much… not metal. He likes 80’s pop music and soft colors while Eddie’s all metal-headbanging-Alpha.

“Maybe not, Stevie, but it’s still a night out. At a bar. You could just relax.” Eddie says. His voice changes, just a bit, into a blend of concern and insistence. “It’s this Saturday, at a place called the Hideout.”

Steve sighs again. 

They’ve reached the door by now. Steve pushes it open, then steps to the side so Eddie can get out first. It’s quieter outside, the chatter of their classmates dispersing as they all head their separate ways. The weather is gorgeous today. No wind, the sun is out, and just warm enough that Steve can wear the new deep emerald-green sweater he bought a little bit ago. 

(It was an impulse purchase, he’ll admit. Retail therapy, okay?)

“Well, you’ll be happy to know then that I do actually have plans for Saturday,” Steve says.

Eddie has bounded down the steps, taking them two at a time. He reaches the bottom with a little hop, his shoes crunching in the leaves. He whirls around, looking up at Steve in amazement. 

The two of them are pretty close in height. Eddie’s just an inch or two taller, possibly more depending on if he’s wearing his Docs or not. But with the handful of steps between them, Steve’s over a foot taller. It’s weird to have that kind of angle on the Alpha.

“ You ,” Eddie gasps, placing a hand on his chest for the effect, “have plans?”

“Shut up,” Steve chuckles, rolling his eyes. “I’ll have you know, I went to parties all the time in L.A.”

“Riiiight, yes, that whole sorority thing.” Eddie nods slowly.

Steve snorts, walking down the steps so he can be eye-level with Eddie once more. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Steve says. “Everyone always pictures those sororities where they open the doors and it’s all these white girls with chants and stuff. Those people are weird. Mine was perfectly normal.”

Eddie laughs at that. “Sure, Stevie, sure.”

Steve pouts, in the same overdramatic way Eddie would. (Eddie is really rubbing off on him. The Alpha is so… energetic and expressive.)

“But, I’m proud of you for having plans. You need to get out there.” Eddie says. “Being alone in a textbook will kill ya, I would know. I’m older and wiser.”

Steve laughs. 

“Have fun this weekend. Try to relax,” Eddie says with a warm smile. “You need it.”

“I will. And good luck with the show.” Steve returns the smile. 

“Why thank you.” Eddie ducks his head in a bow.

Steve chuckles again. He’s used to Eddie’s weirdness; his sweeping gestures and over-the-top gestures. But it never fails to make him smile. Eddie acts like no Alpha Steve has ever met before. It’s refreshing.

(And maybe something else… but Steve pushes any thought like that so far into the back of his mind before it can really even be a thought.)

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

The following evening, Steve finds himself standing outside the address Carol had given him. She said it was a costume party.

Steve now realizes that she was lying in order to make fun of him. 

He knows this because he’s standing in the doorway to the house, he’s wearing nothing but a revealing Playboy Bunny costume while everyone stares at him.

Shit.

 

Notes:

ooookkkaaaay so it's been... a bit.

I said last chapter that I was starting an internship, and ohhhhhmyfuckinggod. I can't give away too many details because it'll absolutely give away my personal info, but I moved 9 1/2 hours away from home for a post-uni internship with a minor league baseball team. I did not have a clear idea about what the hours were until I got there, and I started at a truly wonderful time* (*heavy sarcasm). Minor league baseball plays in homestands, where it's 6 games in six days. The team plays at home for a week, then away for a week, then home, etc etc etc. Well, I started at the Once A Season Double Homestand. So, in my first two weeks, I worked 113 hours. That's 33 hours of overtime in 14 days. Because, on game days I work a normal 9-5, then a game on top of that, so majority of those 14 days were 10-12 hour shifts 💀💀

soooooooooooooo I am thoroughly exhausted. but! There are chunks of time where I'm sitting in the office with no projects to work on, so I'm still writing, fortunately :D just with no braincells to post, since it took me over 2 weeks post-move to have the time to set up my PC haha. So chapter 7 is just about done and I am actually getting home during daylight hours, so wanted to finally post chapter 5 :D

As I said in the beginning note, there are some truly massive chapters coming. Last chapter was officially the end of "the set up" stage, and now we're rolling into the thick of things. I am SO EXCITED to share this with yall :D

so, if you want to keep up with me in between my sporadic updates, check out my twitter! have a lovely rest of the week yall <3<3

Chapter 6: "I'm never going to be good enough for you, am I?"

Summary:

The party goes even worse than expected, but hey, Steve finds a way to turn the night around.

Notes:

happy Pride month friends! I'm still working my absolute butt off at this internship. 35 hours of overtime in my first paycheck, over 40 in another 💀💀 but one month's done, another five to go.

ANYWAY, this chapter is an absolute monster. It truly got away from me, and it might be possible to tell where it did. But this was an absolute blast to write because there are BIG THINGS INSIDE and I can't wait for you all to read!!!! enjoy!!! <3<3

Okay, so maybe wearing a Playboy Bunny costume in late October in Massachusetts was a bad idea. It is fucking freezing in this thing. 

But Steve was told it was a costume party, and he looks amazing in this thing. It hugs in all the right places, thank you. The pink fishnets show off his amazing thighs, and the high cut of the body suit reveals just the right amount of ass. The lacy, baby pink corset is drawn tight to his figure, showing off the hard work he puts into his gym workouts. 

It’s an incredible outfit.

However, it could be a bad idea to wear the Playboy Bunny costume to a party that is decidedly not a costume party. Thank you Carol fucking Perkins for lying to him. 

Now Steve stands in the foyer, all eyes on him. 

Some of the male Alphas are downright leering at him, nearly licking their chops at the sight of his pink fish-net covered thighs. Others of various designations have their jaws dropped. Whispers sprout up immediately. There’s enough of them that they’re audible over the music coming in from the living room.

Hey, check out Ms. October.

Holy shit, look at him!

At least he’s got his looks.

Think he’s easy? I’d like to–

The stares and the embarrassment feel like they’re choking Steve. The scents around him don't help. Some of his classmates choose to wear scent blockers in class, but here, here they are all out. It's a bit overwhelming, especially as some of the scents noticeably change as he walks by. A few asshole knotheads look at him like he's prey, a literal bunny for them to hunt down and force into submission.

Panic coils through his stomach. The voice in the back of his mind is screaming at him to run and hide away in his nest where he couldn’t be found.

But he swallows it down the best he can and forces a smile. If he’s going to be played like a fool, better not let it show. Brenner said it best on the very first day of class– these people are sharks and Steve’s not going to let his weakness show.

He forces his chin up, and moves into the living room. 

He hears someone across the room go oh my god! and the distinct sound of another spitting out their drink. He ignores it best he can, searching for the oh-so gracious host of this party.

Carol’s off in a corner, sipping from a dainty wine glass as she sits on the couch. Nicole is next to her, and she spots Steve first. She breaks into ugly, braying laughter and points directly at him. Carol turns, her jaw dropping.

Steve exhales sharply, fortifying his resolve. He walks right up to her, planting his hands on his hips. He kind of looms over them, and he fucking loves it. Thank you, four-inch heels! They make his ass look killer and give him power over lying assholes.

“Thanks for the invite, this party is so fun,” he says in the most passive-aggressive, fake-positive tone he can muster. He grins, probably some flavor of manic as he shows too much teeth. 

Nicole is still laughing, nearly bent over on the couch. Carol’s shocked expression turns into a smug one.

“Nice outfit. You look… fluffy,” Carol says.

“I like your outfit too,” Steve replies, tilting his head a bit as he looks Carol over in one swooping, exaggerated motion. “The thing is though, if I was going to dress up like a frigid bitch, I’d try to not look so constipated.”

Nicole’s laughter peters out. Carol’s expression shifts again, looking just as constipated as Steve had said. 

“But like I said, nice costume.” Steve smiles, with just the right amount of condescending in it. 

He turns on his heel before they get time to respond. He hears Carol sputter behind him, and it fuels the vindictive part of him as he heads off to the kitchen to try to find a drink. 

“Nice ears,” someone says to him.

“Thanks!” Steve throws them a smile over his shoulder, but doesn’t stop walking. If he’s going to stick around, he’s going to need something stronger than a beer. 

Good news, he spots a keg the second he gets to the kitchen.

Better news, Tommy is standing next to it, in the middle of a conversation with some jock-y looking Alpha. Perfect . Tommy always loved Steve in lingerie, and this is about as close as Steve can get to it without actually wearing any. 

“Hi Tommy!” Steve calls. He feels a little giddy. Time to show Tommy exactly what he’s missing. 

Tommy looks over at the sound of his name. Steve gets to watch his expression change as Tommy registers who just called out to him. The Alpha’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he looks Steve over. 

“H-Holy shit– Steve–” Tommy chokes out. 

Steve chuckles, stepping right up to Tommy. Right in that sweet middle ground, not too close to be lovers, or too far to just be friends.

“W-What’s with the costume?” Tommy stutters, caught so obviously off guard.

Steve shrugs with a small, forced laugh. He pushes away his embarrassment and goes in the opposite direction– fake self-confidence to a potentially exaggerated degree.

“Decided to shake things up. Halloween is in a few days, right? Why not dress up?”

Tommy slowly blinks, three times. Steve knows that dumbfounded expression well– Tommy is trying to wrangle his thoughts into something actually coherent. It’s hard for Steve to hold back a grin at that. 

He’s been too busy this semester to really talk to Tommy, but now is the perfect time to reel the Alpha back into his orbit.

“I mean… I guess… but you never wore any costume like that when we were together,” is what Tommy finally decides on. He laughs a little, both awkward and sheepish as he smile.

“You never asked,” Steve replies with a flirtatious smile. He shifts his weight, popping a hip out to show the long line of his leg. “You could’ve been Hefner.”

Tommy blows out a loud breath as his eyes drift downwards. “Kinda regretting that now, to be honest.”

Steve laughs. Purposefully, he leans in close to Tommy so he can grab a cup from just behind him. He’s close enough for his peach and vanilla scent to reach Tommy, and he can tell because he hears Tommy’s shaky inhale. 

“You know,” he says nonchalantly as he starts to pour from the keg. “I feel like we’ve barely gotten to see each other this semester.”

“Oh I know,” Tommy groans, tone shifting out of caught-off-guard-flustered to a more moderate, casual one. Tommy takes a hearty drink from his own cup before continuing. “I’ve been so busy with all those case studies and essays…”

Steve nods knowingly. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been busting my ass on all these assignments. I can’t even begin to think about doing all of this and Brenner’s internship.”

That's a bit of a stretch of the truth– Steve's barely hanging on to passing grades. He's nowhere close to having high enough grades for that internship. But again, fake self-confidence. Letting Tommy in on just how much he's struggling won't win him back.

When he finishes talking, he takes a drink from his cup. That causes him to miss how Tommy’s expression falls into something pitying. 

“Steve… you can’t seriously think you’re going to get that internship,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he looks directly into Steve’s eyes. “You’re never gonna get the grades to qualify for one of those spots. You’re… you’re not smart enough for that, Stevie.”

He’s been listening to Eddie say that name for weeks. Say it so sweetly and happily… 

It doesn’t feel right coming out of Tommy’s mouth.

Steve frowns, taking a step back, further away from Tommy. The space between them feels icy. 

“Um… did we not get into the same law school?” Steve asks. His eyebrows furrow as his head tilts.

“Well, yeah… but…” Tommy shrugs halfheartedly. He looks down and away for a moment.

“But what?” Steve presses. His excitement about finally being able to talk to Tommy, finally being able to get his head to spin again, is fading fast.

“We took the same LSATs, and we’re taking the same courses now. I did the work to be here, just like you did,” Steve continues. His fingers are tightening around the cheap red plastic cup in his hand. He can feel it crinkle in his grasp.

“I mean, yeah, but be serious Steve,” Tommy says.

That word is like icing on the cake. 

Fuck serious.

“You don’t really want to be here, do you? You can do something more… your speed.”

Steve swallows thickly. 

The noise of the party fades away. The chatter and the music feel a million miles away as Steve’s stomach tightens up. 

It feels like a lightbulb goes off. All the disparate puzzle pieces finally connect, and Steve can see a full picture. Whatever metaphor you want to use– Steve gets it now. It all clicks.

“I’m never going to be good enough for you, am I?” Steve asks weakly. 

Tommy’s mouth opens, closes, and opens again. 

Steve sniffs. He takes another step back. 

“Steve, come on…” Tommy tries, reaching a hand out to him.

Steve shakes his head. He starts to turn away, and almost hits the edge of the kitchen counter. At least that allows him to set his drink down before he gets the hell out of there. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

[Steve] plans fell through. where’s your show again?

[Eddie] at the Hideout!! get ready to rock stevie 🎸🤘

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Eddie was right. This is definitely not Steve’s scene. But it sure as hell beats wallowing at home.

He had texted Eddie after he had walked a few blocks away from the party. He still wanted a damn drink, and he’s already all dressed up, so why waste it? 

Fortunately, the place wasn’t far. Steve got there about twenty minutes later, and Eddie was right. The place is busy, but luckily not so much that there’s a line out the door. Steve gets in no problem, and is instantly met with a wall of noise. The bar’s on the smaller side, all worn wood and peeling paint. The booths lining one wall are all full, including the tables scattered about. On another wall sits a small stage with enough open space in front of it to count as a dance floor. There’s more people standing around there, waiting for the band to start. 

Steve doesn’t know if anyone else is playing, but by the looks of all the instruments on stage, whoever’s first is ready to go. 

And in his cursory scan of the place, he is happy to know that he is not the only one in costume. Nobody bats an eye at him. There are people around in just as revealing costumes, like sexy sailors or zombie cheerleaders. He catches a few appreciative looks as he makes his way to the bar, which compared to what he was receiving not even an hour ago, feels like a blessing. Seriously, normally he’d be indifferent or even annoyed by being looked at like that, but this feels good. People are looking at him with desire or even jealousy, not judgment.

He knows he has pretty-person privilege. He’s been aware of that fact since Chrissy pointed it out to him in high school, and he’s aware of it again as a bartender stops in front of him after only a minute of waiting while it seems like others have been waiting for far longer. He orders whatever beer’s on tap. 

As the glass is set down in front of him, the lights in the bar dim. The crowd cheers as attention turns towards the stage. Steve looks over too, and he’s glad he hasn’t picked up his glass yet.

The familiar sight of Eddie Munson stands in front of the microphone, with a gorgeous black and red guitar slung across his hips.

He looks… he looks incredible.

His hair is teased out, just like all the iconic rockers of the 70’s and 80’s. Eyeliner is artfully smudged around eyes that twinkle under the stage lights. Steve’s eyes trail further down, it’s impossible not to. He had no idea Eddie had so many tattoos– his chest is nearly covered in them, peeking through a worn black t-shirt that has more rips and tears than actual shirt. He’s wearing an absolutely sinfully tight pair of leather pants with chains hanging low from the waist. His worn platform Docs add a few inches to him, making him look like he towers above his audience from the front of a stage only a foot above the floor.

His clunky silver rings sparkle as he raises a hand to wrap around the mic. 

Steve swallows thickly.

“Good evening, it is lovely to see all your beautiful faces,” Eddie croons. 

This can’t be the same Eddie that Steve sees on campus. 

The Eddie he knows hides his tattoos away in all black, more non-descript clothes. This Eddie is… is bold. Showing more skin than not. His voice is a touch deeper, rougher. Worlds away from the more composed, academic Eddie.

The bar’s cheers rise. Eddie laughs. 

“Some of you know us, but some don’t. We are Corroded Coffin,” Eddie says, then turns towards his bandmates. “I have my wonderful, talented friends with me. Jeff on bass, Gareth on drums, and Freak on guitar.”

As he introduces them, he pauses to allow each member to play a few measures of their chosen instrument. He laughs again at the final introduction.

“Freak has a name, I promise. He just likes to think he’s Prince or something and only needs one name,” Eddie teases. 

The audience laughs in return. Freak rolls his eyes, swaying a bit to make the motion more dramatic. 

“And of course, I am Eddie Munson.” Eddie curtsies, miming holding the hem of a skirt. 

There’s more of the Eddie that Steve knows. Playful and over the top, making nearly all of his motions larger than needed. 

“Well, introductions are all fun and games. Now, let’s get this show on the road, yeah?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows as he curls his free hand around the fretboard of his guitar. 

The whole bar cheers– whistles and hollers and call-outs. 

Gareth clicks his sticks in a fast, loud beat, and then they’re off. 

Steve feels like he can’t take his eyes off them. Eddie plays with such fluidity and finesse. His fingers seem to glide over the strings during the first song’s intro. Then he leans back into the mic, lips nearly pressed to it as he starts to sing. 

Steve thinks his heart skips a beat. 

He can’t quite understand what Eddie’s singing. The words are hard for him to grasp, lost in the cacophony of guitars and drums. Eddie was right again– metal is not really Steve’s scene. But he can get the appeal. 

It’s the kind of music that you can feel in your chest. The floor vibrates beneath Steve’s feet. The air feels electric as the audience gets into it. This is the kind of music that draws your whole body in. 

Steve has been to concerts before. Big stadium tours with incredible seats right at the front. He loved them, but he might love this small, intimate venue more. People are pressed shoulder to shoulder, sharing one experience together. He’s seen some truly magnificent performances before, but now he might be thinking that nothing can beat this closeness. 

Eddie just draws his audience in. They sing the lyrics back to him, making him lean back from the mic to laugh and grin. In between songs, he jokes around with his friends, then stays pressed up to Freak as they trade guitar solos in the next song. 

Steve finds himself slowly weaving through the bodies until he’s right near the front. 

There’s a break in the chorus. Freak tears through a solo with grace. Eddie’s headbanging along, wild hair looking like it defies gravity as it moves with him. He slows, whipping his head back to get his hair out of his eyes. 

It’s as he’s leaning back up to the mic that his eyes meet Steve’s.

Eddie has been glowing all night, but it’s like the sun is trapped between his teeth when he grins at Steve. He takes his hand off his guitar so he can wiggle his fingers in a wave. 

Steve returns the motion. It’s impossible to not match Eddie’s frenetic grin. 

Freak’s solo fades and Eddie starts to sing once more. His eyes stay locked with Steve as his voice fills the bar. 

The song soon crashes to a halt. The crowd goes wild, and Eddie takes a step back to wipe away the sweat and catch his breath. The others do the same. Gareth cracks his knuckles and shakes his hands out while Jeff rolls his shoulders and Freak takes a drink of water from the bottle tucked behind an amp. 

It only lasts fifteen seconds, then Eddie’s leaning back in. 

“We’re really not ones to listen to pop,” Eddie says casually. His chest is rising and falling rapidly, but it’s obvious he doesn’t want to leave the audience hanging any longer. “But, we’ll make an exception for tonight. With our own twist, of course. Wouldn’t be us without it.”

He chuckles, and as it fades out a familiar riff fills the room. People go wild all around Steve, and he can’t help but laugh. 

The electrifying opening of Thriller fills Steve to his very core.

 

The bar empties some after the show ends. 

Eddie had thanked the audience with kisses blown into the air before bowing. The other band members bowed as well to the whistling and applause of their audience. Then the lights came up, and the people around Steve started to move.

He’s sweating, gathering in the dip in his back and on his neck. But he feels alive. Absolutely thrumming with energy. This is the last thing he thought he ever thought he’d be doing, and it thrills him to no end. 

His relationship with Tommy is most likely truly over. Dancing and sweating in the crowd as music rang through what felt like every atom in his body made him feel like he was exorcizing Tommy from his life. Closing a door on the past, the sound lost in the thudding beat of Gareth’s drums. 

 “Stevie, you came!” Eddie’s voice rings out. 

Steve turns around right as the Alpha slides an arm over his shoulder. 

“I said I would,” Steve giggles. Honest to god giggles. “You were incredible.”

“Oh yeah?” Eddie raises his eyebrows. In combination with Eddie’s platforms and Steve’s heels, they stand eye-to-eye for the first time. “Did we change your life? Become a metalhead?”

Steve shrugs a shoulder, but his smile is too warm for it to be taken seriously. “Maybe not entirely my scene, but I get the appeal.” 

Eddie places a hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Steve laughs, rolling his eyes. “I’m plenty nice.”

Eddie’s about to say something when Gareth steps up next to Eddie. 

“So, who’s your bunny friend?” Gareth asks with a smirk.

At the question, Eddie seems to have finally clocked Steve’s costume. His eyes go wide, and he takes a step back to look Steve over.

“Good lord Stevie, you were hiding all that muscle this whole time?” Eddie teases. 

“I could say the same for you. I had no clue you had so many tattoos!” Steve waves a hand in the general direction of Eddie’s chest. 

Eddie shrugs with an easy smile. “We all have our secrets, Stevie.”

Gareth snorts at that. Steve rolls his eyes, and turns towards him.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” he says, holding out his hand. 

Gareth shakes it twice. 

“It’s nice to put a face to a name,” he says. “Eddie’s talked about you before.”

Steve raises an eyebrow, glancing at Eddie. Eddie’s cheeks are pink, but it’s hard to tell if it’s from what Gareth said or from the exertion of the show.

“Good things, I hope?” Steve jokes.

“Yeah. Good things.” Gareth confirms with a nod. “Now come on, I need a fuckin’ drink.”

Gareth leads them through the thinning crowd over to the bar. The place has emptied by a decent amount, but people still linger to just hang out. As they weave through the crowd, people pause their conversations to compliment Eddie and Gareth. The two take it with grace and smile at each person like they’re their childhood best friend. 

Steve smiles all the while, adrenaline still thrumming through him. 

 

Unfortunately, that adrenaline begins to wane as they claim a booth to drink and shoot the shit. Jeff and Freak appear after some time, arriving at the table with a round of shots. 

It’s fun. Steve hasn’t been able to unwind and just hang out with people in months. He’s an extroverted person, always surrounded by friends back in L.A. Being out here feels so isolating, so it feels great to just let his metaphorical hair down and joke around with Eddie’s friends. They’re nice guys too, funny and sharp with easy banter between what are obviously old friends. Steve finds himself laughing more than he has in months.

But again, the adrenaline fades over time, leaving Steve exhausted.

And his new reality pokes at the edges of his mind. He knows that when he wakes up tomorrow, it will be all that’s on his mind.

He has fully given up on Tommy. But… where does that leave him? Does he tuck his tail between his legs and go back home? But then everyone will be so disappointed in him… Tommy and Carol and all the people here will laugh behind their hands, saying that they knew Steve wouldn’t make it and that it’s about time he gave up. His parents will be cold, making zero effort to hide their dissatisfaction. And Chrissy… Chrissy wouldn’t say it, but Steve knows that she’d be disappointed too. 

All that work would swirl down the drain, and where would Steve go from there?

Eddie nudges his side.

“Hey, I’m going out for a cigarette,” he leans in to say quietly. 

Steve nods, and slides out of the booth to let Eddie out. Eddie must notice his demeanor then– his easy smile shifts into concern. 

“Come join me?” Eddie asks. 

Steve doesn’t smoke anymore. Tommy got him into it, but Chrissy got him out of it. She told him it was ruining his scent and would make his teeth yellow. It’s a shallow reason to stop smoking, but it worked.

Now though, a smoke sounds great. He nods wordlessly, following Eddie out of the bar. They walk a few paces down the front of the building to stand up against the corner of the bar.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asks, reaching into the pocket of his leather jacket to grab his smokes. When Jeff and Freak had walked up to the table earlier, Jeff handed it off to Eddie. Steve didn’t pay much attention then, but now he watches as Eddie digs through the pockets.

Steve shrugs minutely. “Don’t know yet.”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. He finally finds his pack, and holds it out to Steve. Steve takes one wordlessly. They weren’t the brand he smoked back then. Steve shelled out for more expensive ones, while Eddie smokes Marlboros. But Steve’s not picky right now.

“Something happen that made your plans fall through?” Eddie sticks a cigarette between his lips and haphazardly shoves the pack back in his pocket.

Steve exhales slowly. 

It all feels so… embarrassing. 

Seeing Eddie up on stage… he has so much… depth? Like, he’s studying at one of the most prestigious law schools in the country, and outside of that is talented enough to become a rock star if he wanted. He has a great group of friends and seems so confident and sure of himself.

What does Steve have? One friend he left on the other side of the country so he could pursue an Alpha who broke his heart? And pursue said Alpha at a school he’s at risk of flunking out of?

“Yeah,” Steve murmurs. 

He watches Eddie flick his lighter on in one easy swipe. The soft ember glow of the flame warms his face under the cool blue light of the moon. 

“Turns out I’m just as stupid as everyone here thinks I am,” he says, barely loud enough for Eddie to hear.

Eddie makes a sad, disbelieving noise as he takes the first inhale of the cigarette. 

“You’re not stupid Steve.” Eddie replies. He holds out his hand to offer Steve the lighter. 

Steve takes it as he shakes his head. “Yeah, I am.”

He looks down at his shoes to avoid Eddie’s gaze. His stupid fucking shoes. His black heels that make his ass look amazing but make him as a whole look like a fucking idiot. 

“Did I tell you why I came here?” Steve asks. He lifts the lighter and tries to spark the flame. It takes a few tries to get it right. 

“Uh… no?” Eddie says slowly, confused about Steve’s sudden change in topic.

Steve snorts, an ugly noise. He takes one long drag of the cigarette, then holds it between his fingers.

“I was in a relationship with this Alpha for a few years. On the night I thought he was going to propose to me, he dumped me. He told me that I wasn’t serious enough. Called me a Marilyn when he wanted a Jackie,” Steve huffs out an empty laugh. “So, I came up with this brilliant plan to win him back.”

The sarcasm is bitter, stinging like his scent that surrounds him like a dark cloud.

“He came here to follow his family legacy of a political career. I came here to try and win him back. I was going to prove to him I was serious,” Steve pauses to take a harsh drag of his cigarette. “But, now I’m drowning. I’m barely passing my classes, I barely sleep anymore, I’m so fucking lonely. I left my only fucking packmate on the other side of the country to come here, where everyone laughs at me behind my back or even to my fucking face.”

The longer he talks, the faster he gets. Panic tightens around his ribs like a vice. He keeps his eyes on the ground, not wanting to watch Eddie’s expression change as he dumps all of his problems. Eddie’s been so fucking nice to him, the one real bright spot about all of this. If he had to watch Eddie’s opinion of him change as he learns what Steve is really about, it’d break what remains of his heart.

“I just came from this party his fiance is hosting. Yeah, fiance. We were broken up for six months and he reunites with his prep school sweetheart. Well, she lied to me, saying it was a costume party just to embarrass me in front of everyone. So they’re all bundled up in sweaters and shit, while I stroll in in fucking this,” he gestures at himself. “It was such an obvious bait, like I guess I was so fucking desperate to talk to him and show him what he was missing that I just ignored the bait.”

Steve doesn’t realize he’s crying until his words falter around a sob. He lifts a shaky hand to try and scrub the tears away. 

“He obviously wants nothing to do with me. Everyone can fucking see it, everyone except me because–” the words get caught in his throat. “Because… I’m just as fucking stupid as everyone thinks I am.”

He ends his rant miserably. The cigarette between his fingers has burned to near nothing. He takes one last drag, then smashes it out on the brick wall of the bar. 

Eddie’s silent. 

Steve finally looks up at him. 

Eddie’s processing it all. It plays out so obviously on his face as he stares directly at Steve.

Steve sniffles.

This all feels so familiar. The bench, at the start of the semester. Steve crying and spilling his guts to Eddie. Dumping all this shit onto an Alpha who is far kinder than anyone Steve has met in so long. An Alpha who is nice, and doesn’t deserve to be sucked into Steve’s problems.

“Okay… um… wow.” Eddie says finally. He breaks his stare, looking off into the distance. “That’s… holy shit. That’s a lot.”

He whistles lowly, taking a long drag of his own cigarette. 

“Let me get this straight. You came out here to follow a man, and Harvard Law was just part of that plan? Shit, what rich, romantic planet are you from?” He asks incredulously. 

“... Malibu?” Steve supplies weakly. 

Eddie snorts loudly, blinking rapidly in shock. 

Steve can’t help the pathetic noise that rumbles through his throat. He regrets ever opening up his mouth.

“Ah, shit, sorry– that was a really tasteless joke.” Eddie looks back over. “I’m sorry, I just… I can’t imagine that.”

His expression is soft with concern and sympathy. Steve misreads it as pity. It just has to be. How could anyone sympathize with Steve? Now that he says it all out loud, he realizes just how fucking privileged he sounds. He took someone else’s spot here, someone who worked hard and wanted it and deserved it. And Steve took that from them for a fucking stupid, selfish reason. 

“I know. I’m some spoiled sorority girl, huh?” Steve says weakly. The late October breeze picks up, making him shiver.

Eddie notices, taking a step closer. Gently, he takes Steve’s hand. Steve jolts, looking down. Without a word, Eddie pries open a hand Steve didn’t realize he had clenched. Trapped inside is the crumbling remains of his cigarette, the ashes smeared across his palm. 

Eddie takes the cigarette butt and steps back to toss that and his own cigarette away in the little smoker’s receptacle a few feet away. Steve stares down at his empty hand, feeling even more pathetic. 

“Well I’m not really going to tell you if you’re spoiled or not,” Eddie says. He steps back up to Steve, close enough for their shoulders to brush. 

“Wow, thanks.” Steve says flatly as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Hold on, I’m not done yet.” Eddie says, not unkindly. He nudges Steve lightly, causing him to look up.

Eddie’s expression is soft with concern. 

“I don’t know if you’re spoiled, but I do know that you aren’t stupid. You’ve said it multiple times before, you are here . You got here. You’re not an idiot,” Eddie says, clear and determined for Steve to understand. “So, are you going to let that fuckin’ asshole ruin this for you? He sounds like a piece of shit. I mean, come on, engaged after six months?”

Eddie throws his hands out, making Steve snort weakly. 

“Such an asshole.” Eddie nods in confirmation at the sound of Steve’s snort. “Sooo, fuck him. You got into Harvard Law, an opportunity people would actually kill for. You’re going to let that piece of shit ruin this for you?”

Steve shrugs half-heartedly.

“No? Okay, then that makes you an idiot,” Eddie says bluntly.

“Hey!” Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he leans away from Eddie.

“I’m telling the truth!” Eddie raises his hands, palms flat and outwards in surrender. “If you go back to L.A. with your tail between your legs, you just let him win. You let everyone here win. Do you really want to do that?”

Steve swallows thickly. “I’m not going to pass the semester. They’ll kick me out.” 

It’s a weak excuse. Eddie knows it, and makes it obvious he does with a dramatic eye roll.

“Well not if I help you, Stevie.”

“But… but you’re busy…” Steve trails off. It doesn’t feel right… it doesn’t feel right for Eddie to sacrifice his time helping Steve out of the mess he got himself into. 

“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I could handle it.” Eddie replies easily. He smiles a little. “You’re my friend, Steve. I’m not going to let you waste this opportunity.”

Steve sniffles. His eyes burn once more. 

“Please?” Eddie raises his pitch, mimicking a child begging their parents for something. He even throws in a batting-of-the-eyelashes.

Steve snorts. It felt impossible not to. 

“Okay.” He whispers.

Eddie cheers with a fist pump. “Alright! Fuck that piece of shit Alpha!”

“No, not like that,” Steve chuckles. “He… he wasn’t even that good.”

Eddie laughs brightly. 

Steve can’t help but laugh too.

The vice around his ribcage still holds, but he can feel it loosen enough to allow him to breathe. 

 

Notes:

steddie!!! is!!! starting!!! it took a bit, but HERE WE ARE! It just took Steve having A Crisis hahaha. poor guy, but things will get better soon, I promise :)

Also, if you're interested in metal covers of Thriller, I have a few! Here is one from LittleVMills, generally close to what I imagine CC sounds like. Another is a female artist, Lauren Babic, who I have to support bc hot metal women, yes please.

And, I'm on twitter if you want to keep up with me outside of AO3. Have a lovely Pride month my friends <3<3

Chapter 7: "Now you're thinking like a lawyer."

Summary:

After hitting basically rock bottom on Halloween, Steve comes up with a new game plan. Time to ditch Tommy for real.

Notes:

I'd really love to get these chapters up sooner, my friends, but alas... work. I'm still working long days, but I've settled into it as much as I can. (There's workplace drama like you would not believe.) The long hours don't leave me much time or motivation to write, so I just slowly chip away at this fic when I can. My promise still stands though-- I am seeing through this fic 'till the end. It may be month-long breaks between chapters, but I'm still writing! Promise.

Anyway, I can't believe it's already July haha the time is just flying by. This is an absolute BEAST of a chapter, so hope it makes up for the delay hahaha <3<3

Their night ends a few minutes later.

As Steve and Eddie had turned to go back inside, Gareth had stormed out in a huff. Someone had spilled their drink all down his front; the fruit juice inside sticky and uncomfortable. Gareth came out to complain to Eddie and beg him to drive them home. 

Eddie had turned to Steve to apologize, but Steve had waved it off. He was exhausted under all the emotional and physical stress of the evening. The idea of wiping off his makeup and flopping into his bed sounded amazing. 

So they parted ways for the night. Eddie wanted to drive him back to campus, but the Alpha had a van-load of instruments and was heading in the opposite direction. It was okay– Steve power-walked the ten blocks back to campus so he could get warm as fast as possible.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

[Steve] made it home safe 👍

[Eddie] sleep well Stevie

[Eddie] text me tmrw we gotta plan our first study session :D 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve is a punctual person. It was ingrained in him from a very young age. He’s always on time, so even if he’s “running late”, he’s typically still five minutes early.

That is the case this afternoon. 

Steve had texted Eddie after his morning run, just as Eddie had asked him to. Eddie had suggested they meet up at the library later in the day, and it wasn’t like Steve had much else going on. So he’s here fifteen minutes early, sitting at a table tucked away in a secluded corner. 

The peace of the library leaves him time to think. 

He’s both excited and nervous. Thankfully, he’s more excited than the other emotion. He had stewed during his morning run, mentally cursing Tommy and Carol’s name as he worked up a sweat. Then, he washed it all away with a shower when he got back. He forced the anger and mourning to swirl down the drain. 

Tommy is an asshole, just like Eddie had said. And Carol’s a bitch. He’s not going to let either of them win. He’s tossing out the last part of his plan. Fuck the winning Tommy back step ; he’s at the kick butt step and will continue to do so, but for himself and not anyone else, thank you!

“I almost didn’t see you without the bunny ears.”

Steve snorts, lifting his gaze to meet Eddie’s. 

Eddie is smiling as he takes the seat across the table.

“And I didn’t recognize you without all the eyeliner and leather,” Steve teases right back.

The Alpha chuckles. “What can I say? Rockstar by night, tired law student by day.”

Eddie drops his bag onto the chair next to him, then unzips the top to dig around for something. 

Steve’s got all his things neatly laid out, ready to go, so he just watches Eddie rifle around. The longer Eddie rifles, the more Steve wants to laugh. That bag is a mess. Whatever he’s looking for has been lost in its depths. 

After a minute, Eddie makes a triumphant noise as he pulls out two battered notebooks. 

“Aha!” He cheers, at a library-appropriate volume, plopping the notebooks down on the table. “My notes from Brenner’s first year classes. Unless he’s radically changed the syllabus, it should still be good.”

Steve sighs in relief. He reaches across the table to grab the top-most one. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” Steve says. 

“I wouldn’t say that ,” Eddie replies with a shrug.

Steve shakes his head, not wanting to hear Eddie’s dismissal of just how big of a favor he’s doing for Steve.

“Seriously, I don’t know what I’d– holy shit Eddie!” Steve cuts himself off as he opens to the first page. “What the hell is this?” 

The handwriting is atrocious. Damn near illegible. Like holy hell.

Eddie has to bite his lip to keep in a cackle. 

“That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t just hand over my notes to you,” Eddie says mirthfully. “My handwriting is horrible, I’m fully aware of it. So, I’m here to help decipher it all.”

“I think this’ll be harder to read then some of the fucking law books,” Steve mutters as he flips to the next page. It’s just as bad– chicken scratch in black ink spanning margin to margin. There’s underlines and arrows in various places, but Steve can’t even tell what they’re supposed to be indicating. 

“Okay, so I’ve never like… tutored someone, but I think I got a plan. We work side-by-side. I’m doing my own thing, while you work on the next assignment, and I help decipher my notes if you need it.” Eddie clasps his hands together, then rests his forearms on the table.

“That sounds good.” Steve nods. “I’ll probably end up needing a lot more help than just this week’s reading though.”

Eddie shrugs again. “Not a problem, Stevie. I’ve done all this shit before so I think I’ll be able to help with just about anything.”

That is such a relief. It feels like some of the weight Steve’s been carrying on his shoulders since the start of the semester has lightened. It’s not gone, no, but it’s like Eddie is here to help keep him upright, help carry some of the burden. 

Steve smiles warmly, hoping his gratitude comes across. 

Eddie smiles in return.

“Now. Where’s all your textbooks?” Eddie asks as he looks down at the table.

“I’ve got them. They’re online,” Steve replies, gesturing to his tablet. 

Eddie glances up, raising his eyebrows.

“Uh… they shouldn’t be. Brenner values the printed word,” Eddie drops his voice down a few notes in a horrendously bad mimicry of Dr. Brenner. “Can I see your syllabus?”

“Oh, yeah, I have that.” Steve nods. He had that prepared– all his syllabi for the semester are in a neat little stack. He thumbs through them to grab Brenner’s, then holds it out to Eddie.

Eddie takes it and starts to read. Steve watches from the other side of the table, feeling nervousness begin to overtake the excitement. Eddie’s eyebrows furrowing makes it worse.

“Oh…” Eddie murmurs. “Uh… didn’t you pick up some textbooks at the start of the semester?”

“Yeah... But I thought I didn’t need those. Like when a professor tells you that you’ll need them, but then you never even open them,” Steve replies, a little weak. He thinks he knows where this is going– he skipped over some vitally important line in the syllabus and now he’s screwed.

Eddie presses his lips into a flat line, then lays the syllabus flat on the table. He spins it around, then points to a line in the weekly schedule.

“This right here is the reading.” Eddie says.

Steve leans forward to read it.

“That just says a court case name…?” Steve trails off, looking back up at Eddie.

“Yeah, because you’re supposed to look it up in your book and read it.”

That weight from earlier is right back on. Yeah, he’s screwed. 

“ What ?” he whispers, breathless. “I thought we were just talking about it in class…”

“I mean, yeah , you were. But you were supposed to do the reading too.” As Eddie explains, a frown grows on his normally warm face. “You’ve been missing like half of the semester’s readings.”

Steve groans, probably a touch too loud for the library. He hides his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the tabletop. 

“Look, it’s not so bad. We’ll get you caught up. Do you have the books?” Eddie asks.

Steve makes an affirmative mhm from behind his palms. 

“Okay, then let’s go get them,” Eddie says. 

“They’re in my dorm…” Steve says, muffled and quiet. 

“Alright. Looks like we’re moving the study session.” Eddie slaps his hands down on the table and pushes himself up out of the chair.

Steve peeks between his fingers. Eddie’s zipping up his bag and scooping up the notebooks. Once he’s all ready, he turns to Steve.

“Well, let’s get a move on Stevie,” Eddie says.

He smiles, and it gives Steve enough motivation to get moving. 

 

“Oh… wow. You have a lot of stuff,” is the first thing out of Eddie’s mouth as they step into Steve’s dorm room. 

“No I don’t.” Steve says, a bit defensive as he holds the door open for Eddie. He watches Eddie scan the room to take it all in. 

Steve turned the boring white room into his own little haven. 

The bed is tucked into the corner, piled high with blankets and pillows to form a plush nest. Both the dresser-top and desk are covered in various beauty and hair supplies. The wall above his bed has a large Delta Nu tapestry hanging with all his sisters handprints on it, and on the opposite wall, a dainty row of soft white fairy-lights is hung up with photos clothes-pinned all over it. Majority of the photos are of him and Chrissy from all stages of their friendship; there are a few where they’re missing teeth, all the way up to Steve and Chrissy clutching their college degrees in their caps and gowns.

Majority of the room is soft and pastel. Steve replaced the nasty, school-provided curtains with creamy-yellow curtains, throwing the whole room in a tender light. 

Eddie, on the other hand, sticks out like a sore thumb. His whole 80’s-metalhead-wears-only-black thing is such a deep contrast against the softness of the room. 

And, now as Steve looks at Eddie, he realizes that yeah, okay maaaybe he has too much stuff… but he wanted to turn this unfamiliar, emotionless room into a nest. Which, as he realizes yet another thing, is that having Eddie here makes him feel uncomfortably vulnerable. Even more so than his breakdown last night. 

Spilling his guts was one thing, but letting Eddie into his safe, soft space? It feels like he’s cracked his ribs open to show here he is most sensitive. 

Steve swallows thickly. 

The only other Alpha he ever let into his nest was Tommy, and look at how that relationship ended up. 

Eddie’s eyes move across the room slowly, his expression impossible to read. But then his eyes land on the photos, and he cracks a smile.

“Awwwh, are these photos of little Stevie?” He sing-songs as he crosses the room to look at them closer.

Steve swallows again. So far so good.

He nods as he steps up next to Eddie. 

“Yeah. And that’s Chrissy.” Steve points at their graduation photo. 

Eddie nods without a verbal response. His gaze is focused and intense as he studies the photos. Similar to the intensity from last night when the Alpha focused on his guitar’s frets while he played. 

Steve watches as his eyes move across each one. That feeling of fragile vulnerability holds on tight to Steve’s ribcage. 

There is barely a foot between them. The space so small that Steve can pick up Eddie’s rich scent. Smoky like a fall bonfire, hearty like fresh cut wood, warm like holding your hands out to the flame. 

“You were a very cute pup, sweetheart,” Eddie says after a long silence. He tilts his head to the side, giving Steve a puckish smile. 

Steve huffs out a laugh, choosing to ignore the warm feeling blooming in his chest at both the compliment and the new nickname.

“I know.” Steve jokes, straightening his back and raising his chin. 

It makes Eddie laugh. “Ooooo, and so modest too!” 

They share a laugh. When it fades, Eddie claps his hands together and whirls around to face the room at large.

“Alright! Where are your books?” He asks.

“Um… in my closet, I think.” Steve says. He crosses the room to open the accordion door. 

Thankfully, Eddie doesn’t say anything as Steve opens his closet. He has a lot of clothes. This, he isn’t shy to admit. He has a fashion merchandising degree, what do you honestly expect? He’s got taste too— even his sweatpants are designer. 

He rolls up onto his tip-toes to reach the top shelf, needing to dig through all the miscellaneous stuff he’s shoved up there. That includes the textbooks, which he thinks he put up there about three hours after he got them.

Sure enough, when Steve digs them out, they are still in the bookstore plastic bag. 

When he turns around, he sees Eddie by his desk, pushing things off to the side.

“Hey!” Steve furrows his eyebrows.

“You need some space to work,” Eddie defends without turning around. “This vanity started its life as a desk, Stevie.”

Steve pouts as Eddie inelegantly shoves things around. 

“You’re ruining it... at least put it on the dresser…” Steve says weakly. 

Eddie glances over his shoulder, then shrugs.

Steve huffs and doesn’t hold back an eyeroll. 

Eddie snorts. He continues doing whatever he’s doing for another minute, then turns to face Steve. It looks like he tried to push things into rough piles for Steve to later deal with, but it’s obvious that he didn’t know half of what was on that desk. The piles are messy and soooo not right. But hey, at least he made an effort. 

“Alright, let’s crack those babies open and get to work!” Eddie grins, gesturing with both hands to the books, then sweeping his hands over to the newly cleared off desk. 

Steve sighs softly, and pulls the heavy textbooks out of the bag. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

“I come bearing gifts!” Eddie says as Steve opens the door for him.

Steve snorts. He steps back, letting Eddie into the dormitory. 

They are back at Steve’s dorm for today. Last time they met up to study, Eddie had complained that the library chairs were killing his back. So, Steve offered for their next study session to be at his place. Eddie happily accepted, wanting to sprawl out on Steve’s floor while they worked. Steve thought it was a weird choice, but he’s learned to not really question the alpha’s decisions. Eddie’s brain works in mysterious ways. 

“Am I allowed to know what the gift is, or is it a surprise?” Steve asks. He lets the door slowly swing shut and then turns to Eddie, who waited patiently for him so they could walk upstairs side by side. 

Eddie grins, lifting up a box. Not just up, but above his head. He makes an airy “waaaaah” sound, holding up whatever it is like it’s Simba from the Lion King.

“I present, Redbull!” He exclaims.

Steve can’t help but laugh. A few people lingering in the dorm lobby look over at them, but Steve ignores them as they cross the room towards the stairs.

“A gift indeed,” Steve replies, taking on the same overdramatic tone Eddie likes to use frequently. “I have never been so happy to see an energy drink in my life.”

Eddie laughs brightly. He lowers the box, shaking it all the while so the six cans inside rattle against each other. 

“I know, god, it feels like I'm holding the Holy Grail or something,” Eddie jokes. “But I remember taking this exam, Stevie. You’re going to need reinforcements.”

Steve groans as he pushes open the stairwell door. 

Their study sessions have been helping Steve better understand what’s happening in class. But, it’s hard trying to catch up on all that he’s missed while also staying on top of current assignments.

Eddie has been so incredibly helpful. The two work side by side on their assignments, making sure each other stay focused. Of course, Eddie is more likely to wander away than Steve. Steve has gotten pretty damn good at getting him back on track though. 

“Now come on, up up up–” Eddie pushes past Steve to start bounding up the stairs. His heavy boots thump against the old wood, the sound echoing through the whole stairwell. “Let’s get this party started Stevie!” 

Just like he couldn’t hold back a laugh, he can’t hold back a teasing eyeroll. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

“Are you seriously painting your toes right now?”

Steve perks up from where he sits in bed. He looks up at Eddie, who sits in his dorm desk chair. Well, he’s more sprawled across the thing, but potato-potahto when it comes to the Alpha. Eddie has terrible posture. 

They’re studying once again, with their combined classwork spread across not just the desk, but the floor as well. Eddie’s taking a break from his own coursework to help quiz Steve on various vocab-words. 

“What?” Steve defends, furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m paying attention!”

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, not unkindly. 

“I just like how they look,” Steve says. 

He looks down at his toenails, which are halfway through being painted a soft powder blue. He’d like to paint his fingernails, but his father always told him that it was wrong for men to wear things like nail polish and makeup. His father had critiqued him on just about everything, desperately wanting his son to be an Alpha. And, well, if he couldn’t have that, he’d push his Omega son to hide everything Omegan about him.

Once he was off to college and out from underneath his father’s thumb, he started to explore. Makeup was fun, and the polish colors he picked always complimented his skin tone. It made him feel beautiful, and the little voice in the back of his mind trilled. 

“You have so many bright colors and pastels… you should paint your nails black sometime.” Eddie teases.

Steve glances up, laughing. “Now who’s getting distracted?”

“Shut it.”

Steve laughs again, then resumes painting. 

“Okay, define malum prohibitum.” Eddie says.

Steve hums as he thinks, pressing his lips into a flat line. 

“Malum prohibitum is…” he trails off as he swipes the brush across a nail. 

“An act pro–” Eddie starts to prompt, but then it comes to Steve.

“An act prohibited by law, like jaywalking or chewing gum in Singapore!” Steve cuts in, glancing up to see Eddie smile and nod. 

“Then, malum in se is…”

“An act that is evil in itself. Assault, murder, white shoes after Labor Day.” Steve answers confidently. 

Eddie snorts, glancing over at his white Reeboks that he kicked off when he arrived. 

“I don’t think that’s evil, but okay sweetheart,” Eddie jokes.

“Yes it is. Those shoes are a crime,” Steve replies with a grin.

“Whatever.” Eddie waves his hand ambiguously. “Moving on–”

Steve laughs once more.

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve sighs impatiently as the phone rings and rings and rings. But, just as he’s getting ready to hang up and try again, the call is picked up.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

From the other end, Eddie groans. Steve realizes he actually doesn’t know what time it is, and glances at the clock in the corner of his screen. 

1:26 AM 

“Uh… no…”

Eddie snorts. There’s a rustling sound from the other end.

“What if I had been asleep, and you woke me up?” Eddie asks. Steve can hear the smile the Alpha has on.

“Please, I know you’re awake. I know you just had a Monster,” Steve jokes.

There’s a long, heavy pause… then,

“How… could you possibly know that?” Eddie whispers in disbelief. 

“I have my ways.” Steve responds gleefully. 

Eddie’s silent for a long moment. Steve always feels some flavor of victorious when he catches the Alpha so off-guard that he doesn’t have an immediate quip to fire back. 

“Anyway,” Steve moves on. “I called you because I want to run this paragraph by you.”

Eddie groans again, muffled this time. 

“You called me, potentially waking me from my beauty sleep, to have me edit your paper?” Eddie asks.

Steve snorts with an eye roll. “Eds, I know you weren’t asleep. You don’t fall asleep until like 3 AM ever.”

There’s another muffled noise– a few short thumps that sound suspiciously like Eddie’s forehead hitting a flat surface. 

“You’re killing me sweetheart,” Eddie says, mildly exasperated.

Steve laughs.

“Okay, fuckin’ read me the paragraph…”

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

The weeks pass and the end of the semester looms closer and closer. 

Steve still doesn’t get enough sleep, but the anxiety that kept him up before is instead replaced by long study sessions with Eddie.

The Alpha has been so indescribably helpful. Steve is actually understanding what is going on in his classes! He’s still not top-of-the-class material, but he’s not at risk of flunking out anymore. Feels like a victory in Steve’s book. 

Steve tries to thank Eddie for all his help over and over again, but Eddie never accepts it. Eddie just says that’s what friends do, and moves on. It is so much more than that though. If Eddie wasn’t there, Steve would’ve gone crawling back to L.A. with his tail between his legs. 

Instead, he’s sitting in Dr. Brenner’s class, listening to Tommy talk through Brenner’s latest hypothetical. 

(Soooo… it turns out that all those months ago, when he saw Carol shit-talking him to the girl next to her, Tommy hadn’t come into class yet. His schedule had changed last minute, so Tommy didn’t join their class until the third day. Thank god. Tommy only heard about Steve’s embarrassing moment instead of witnessing it first-hand.)

(However, the downside to that is now Steve has to deal with both Carol and Tommy. Whenever he looks back at them, Carol is pressed up right against Tommy’s side. Before Halloween, Steve had hated it, wanting it to be him pressed up against Tommy. But after Halloween? Steve never looked back, determined to leave Tommy in the dust.)

That has been working well for him so far. 

“Mr. Latimer was clearly within his rights to ask for visitation,” Tommy explains. “Without his sperm, the child in question wouldn’t exist.”

Dr. Brenner hums consideringly as he nods. 

“A very strong conclusion, Mr. Hagan,” he says. “One that could be hard to counter.”

Steve glances furtively over his shoulder. Tommy is grinning, with Carol at his side looking proud of him. 

A lightbulb goes off in Steve’s mind. 

He has a counter argument.

Steve straightens up in his seat. He has remained silent for the majority of the semester, not wanting to face Dr. Brenner’s wrath. However, he just can’t hold himself back as he raises his hand.

Dr. Brenner is clearly surprised by Steve’s hand. His eyebrows rise, then a small, somewhat mean smile crosses his face.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington?” Dr. Brenner prompts smugly, obviously waiting for Steve to fall flat on his face.

“Mr. Hagan makes an excellent point,” Steve starts. Every eye in the room is on him. He forces his nerves down, and speaks clearly. “But, did the defendant keep a log of every sperm emission made throughout his life?”

The class bursts into muffled giggles and snickering. Dr. Brenner stands, unmoving, for a long second as he processes. Steve keeps his gaze steady on the professor, refusing to back down and fold under the judgment of his classmates. 

“Interesting… why do you ask?” Dr. Brenner finally says. His tone shifts subtly into curiosity. 

“Well, unless the defendant attempted to contact every sexual encounter he’s ever had, in order to find if a child resulted from those unions, he has no claim over this child whatsoever.” Steve states. “Why now, why this sperm?”

Dr. Brenner hums once again. “I see your point, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve can’t help but crack a smile.

“And,” he adds, “by Mr. Hagan’s standards, all masturbatory emissions where the sperm was clearly not seeking an egg could be called reckless abandonment.”

The giggling cuts out in the span of a heartbeat. Steve can feel all their gazes on him, but for the first time since he came to Harvard, he doesn’t want to hide away. Instead, he wishes he had a microphone so he could drop it on the ground. 

Boom. I just fuckin’ did that, he thinks instead.

“Mr. Harrington, now you’re thinking like a lawyer.” Dr. Brenner says, as close to a praise as he could probably ever give.

Steve exhales in relief, his shoulders relaxing. 

He glances over at the final seat in the first row, on the opposite side of the room. That is where Eddie parks himself when he has to TA, and thank god he is in today. 

Eddie’s grinning at him, looking as proud as a parent watching their kid’s first school recital. 

Steve grins right back. 

In the grand scheme of things, it’s a small victory. But it feels like such a sweet one. 

 

The second class is dismissed, Eddie’s right in front of Steve.

“Holy shit Stevie,” he whispers, leaning in close as Steve starts to pack up his stuff. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs. “I… I don’t know, it just came to me.”

“It was incredible.” Eddie praises. He leans close to whisper, “you should’ve seen their faces. They were stunned.”

Steve giggles, knowing exactly who Eddie is referring to. 

“That’s the kind of shit that’ll win you cases, sweetheart.” Eddie says. 

“Shut up.” Steve waves a hand ambiguously as he stands up. “It was probably just a one-off, I don’t think–”

“Mr. Harrington, may I speak with you for a moment?” Dr. Brenner asks, his ever-stern voice cutting through the conversations of class as they filter out for the day. 

Steve and Eddie share a heavy, silent look. Then, Steve crosses the canyon of space between him and Dr. Brenner. Eddie stays where he is, waiting.

“Yes, Dr. Brenner?” Steve asks, his voice staying impressively calm. He thinks that this man will never not scare the shit out of him.

“Excellent work today, I see you have really turned things around.” Dr. Brenner says. 

Steve smiles sheepishly. “I’m trying to.”

Dr. Brenner nods once. “So, I assume you’ll be applying for my internship? Do you have a resume?” 

Steve’s lips part just barely as he processes. He had brushed it off… not forgetting about it, no, because he overhears his classmates whispering about it all the time. He just… didn’t really give it much thought since he never thought he’d get it. And, was also far too busy playing catch-up with his coursework that he never thought he’d have the grades to impress Dr. Brenner.

But… if he’s being offered it, that has to mean something.

“uh– yeah. Yes! Yes I am.” Steve nods. He shifts his bag to one shoulder so he can draw it around to open it up. “I have a copy with me.”

He pulls out a folder and digs through it. 

Fortunately, another professor had told them at the start of the semester that it was wise to keep a copy of their resume in their bag, just in case. Thank god for that! Steve pulls out his resume from where it was tucked between various syllabi. 

He holds it out with a (hopefully) warm smile. 

Dr. Brenner takes it, then pauses as he looks down at it. One eyebrow slowly rises.

“Is it… scented?” He asks, lifting the piece of paper up to his nose..

“Lavender.” Steve nods confidently. “It’s calming. And, makes it stand out.”

Dr. Brenner exhales through his nose, an amused look flickering across his face. 

“I will say, Mr. Harrington, if this was the start of the semester, I would have recycled this without thought.”

“Well, thank you for your consideration then.” Steve smiles. 

Dr. Brenner nods, and Steve takes that as his cue to leave. 

Eddie bounds up to him so they meet at the door.

“Oh my god–” Eddie whisper-yells. “Did I just hear–”

“Yes, yes you did.” Steve says through his teeth, fighting hard to contain his excitement. 

“Okay, oh my god, oh my god.” Eddie bounces up on his toes. “I know we were planning to study tonight, but I think we should celebrate instead!”

Steve bursts into laughter. 

“Oh, no, we’re still studying. I can’t just let myself go now!” 

“Okay, fine. One beer then?” Eddie asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

They reach the main door, and push it open to step out into the frigid late-November air. 

“How about one shot? I’ve got vodka in my room.” Steve grins. 

Eddie laughs, loud and bright. “Now we’re talkin’ Stevie!” 

It feels wild to be excited to study, but Eddie’s laughter is contagious.

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve doesn’t go home for Thanksgiving. He’s cramming for finals, which loom just two weeks out. Trying to stay on top of his grades is a much better use of his time than whatever stuffy family dinner his parents are hosting. 

“You aren’t coming home for Thanksgiving? Steven, we always host,” his mother had said when she called him to ask when his flight would arrive.

“I know mom, but finals are soon and I really need to focus for them.” Steve had answered, hoping that playing the education card will be enough. 

Fortunately it was. She had sighed, heavy and dramatically, but let Steve go without too much of a fuss. 

Telling Chrissy he wasn’t coming home had been much harder.

“I miss you so much,” she said, soft and watery. 

Steve had swallowed to hold back his own tears. “I know, Chris… I miss you too. But I’m actually doing really well right now, and I don’t want to slip up.”

“I know, I know. I just miss you…”

“I’ll be home for Christmas though. Not too long… probably just Christmas to New Year’s.”

“I’ll be picking you up from the airport. I’ll hold a big glittery sign and cry when I see you.”

Steve laughed with a sniffle. “I can’t wait.”

But the week off of classes gives him time to catch up on sleep and do the last bit of classwork he needed to get done in order to finally be caught up. So, when classes start back next week, he’ll be ready to grind through to finals. 

 

Steve rubs his hands together, trying to thaw his fingers out from the bitter Massachusetts air. December has officially fallen as the first flakes of snow float through the air. 

He’s seen snow before, when on ski trips to the mountains, so he’s not some Californian who doesn’t know what it is. But there’s still some magic in it. He’s not just on vacation to some fancy resort, he lives here. He’ll be dealing with snow until it thaws for good in the spring. Sure, it’ll be gray slush within a few hours, but for now the flakes dance through the air and stick to him as he trudges up the building steps. 

He keeps his head down as he heads inside, lifting his cupped hands to blow on them. He only looks up when he nearly knocks right into somebody.

He looks up to apologize, but freezes at the sight in front of him.

There are people everywhere. The main hallway is far busier than normal. Instead of people heading off to their classes, they’re all clumped together in the atrium, looking at a corkboard hung on the wall. 

Steve furrows his eyebrows, scanning the crowd. 

Off to the side, he spies a familiar Alpha standing and biting at his nails and he slips his way through the crowd to him.

“Eddie, what’s going on?”

Eddie startles, blinking rapidly to clear whatever mental fog he was in. 

“Oh– Stevie–” he exhales sharply. “Brenner posted his intern list a month early. Over Thanksgiving, some murder case came into his office so he needs help like, now .” 

Steve slowly nods. He’s not quite tall enough to see over the crowd, but he can make out the top edge of a white piece of paper stuck to the center of the board. 

“He’s given me an assistant position. If it goes well, he could employ me full-time when I graduate in May,” Eddie continues nervously.

“Wow. That’s awesome.” Steve says, gaze moving back to the Alpha. 

Eddie’s clearly freaking out. He’s damn near vibrating where he stands, now alternating between messing with his hair and fiddling with his rings. His scent is a scattered mess, prickly and shaking.

“I know, but I’m still freaking the fuck out!” Eddie throws his hands up. “Like this is incredible! But like, what if I fuck it up–”

“You’re not going to.” Steve cuts in easily.

This could be a little funny– their roles have switched. Now Eddie’s panicking while Steve tries to draw him back down.

“Have you looked at the list?” Steve asks. 

Eddie shakes his head. He’s messed with his hair enough that it’s a frizzy cloud around him, swaying as he shakes his head sharply. “No, I don’t really need to.”

Fair enough.

“I’ll be right back, I want to see.”

Eddie nods, gesturing weakly towards the crowd. “Good luck.”

Steve smiles at him, then turns to face his classmates.

There’s a nervous electricity amongst the crowd. Everyone’s reaching up on their tip-toes to catch a look at the list. Some curse in frustration at their results, while those not tall enough to see grumble. 

Steve weaves his way through the crowd, giving out excuse mes and pardon mes. 

Someone heading in the opposite direction shoulder-clocks him, their scent radiating off of them like a negative cloud. Whoever it was is gone before Steve can glance over, so he just assumes they didn’t make the cut.

He manages to make his way to the front, now close enough to read the few lines of black ink printed onto the stapled white paper. 

Robin Buckley

Tommy Hagan

Steve Harrington

Carol Perkins

Ugh, of course Tommy and Carol got the internsh–

Wait.

Hold on.

Go back.

Reread.

Steve Harrington

Steve’s eyes widen. 

That’s his name.

Oh my GOD, that’s HIS NAME!

 

Notes:

did this chapter have actual steddie?? mayhaps... 🫣🫣
A lot of this chapter is based around / inspired by the musical. tbh, I love the musical more than the movie. It features far more relationship growth between Elle and Emmett than what's in the movie, so this chapter was heavily inspired by the montage in late act 1 of the musical to show the growing friendship of Steve and Eddie. I really liked how this chapter turned out!! :D

now, we'll see how long the next update takes me to make. I have chapter 8 written fully, but I like to have a few chapters backlogged just in case. I'm working on chapter 9 currently, so we're moving into the second act of this fic and it's going to be so much fun!!!!
If you'd like to keep up with me in between updates, I have a twitter that I'm decently active on :) have a nice day yall and fingers crossed we see each other again in July haha <3<3

Chapter 8: “Endorphins make you happy…”

Summary:

Winter break's a slog, but Steve powers through. Then, it's officially Day One of the internship.

Notes:

it seems like I'm upholding my "updates once a month" track record... I've just been having a rough go of things. I won't bore yall with the details, but I'm incredibly unsatisfied with my internship and just sticking it out 'til the end. I'm already applying for jobs for after it's over and I can't wait to leave lol so that's kind of killed my motivation. I write in bursts it seems-- I won't touch this fic for weeks then write 2k in one sitting hahaha

but we are officially in "Act Two"! how exciting!!!!!!!

Steve’s jaw hits the floor.

That’s his name. 

That’s his name! 

He got it, holy fuck–

His eyes are the size of dinner plates as he stares at the paper. 

He did it. 

Oh my god, oh my god–

“Excuse me–” someone says, shouldering past Steve to look. 

Steve blinks rapidly, coming back to reality. He whirls around, shoving back through the crowd. Significantly less polite this time.

Eddie’s standing where he was left, basically vibrating in place. When Steve slips out from the crowd, Eddie’s eyes find his like they’re magnetized. Eddie’s eyebrows furrow at whatever expression is on Steve’s face. He honestly has no clue what he looks like, he’s fucking losing his mind.

“Stevie? What happened?” Eddie asks once Steve’s a few feet away.

“I got it.” Steve says, breathlessly. 

Eddie’s confused expression melts to pure, unadulterated excitement. “You got it!?”

“I got it! ” Steve squeals, picking up his pace.

Eddie cheers, throwing his hands up. Steve nearly runs into him, clobbering the Alpha into a hug.

“Holy shit–” Eddie wheezes as Steve squeezes tight. He then laughs, curling his arms around Steve’s shoulders just as tight.

“Thank you,” Steve says. He lays his cheek on Eddie’s collarbone. The lingering chill from outside melts as the Alpha’s warmth seeps into him. 

“What for?” Eddie asks through chuckles. As he asks, he sways side-to-side in a comforting rock. 

“For helping.” Steve explains. “I couldn’t have gotten it without you.” 

He would’ve flunked out without Eddie. 

“It was all you, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice softens, chin tilting down so his nose brushes the top of Steve’s head; the move just one step adjacent to a scenting touch. 

Steve shakes his head, leaning his head back so he can meet Eddie’s gaze. Their hug remains just as tight.

“I may have been motivated, but I would’ve been lost without your help.” 

Eddie’s smile softens. “And now we’re going to kick some ass.”

Steve giggles. He squeezes Eddie one last time, then pulls away. The little voice in the back of his mind whimpers at the loss of the Alpha’s warmth, but he throws that thought away before it can really even happen.

“We’re going to kick so much ass.” Steve replies.

Eddie snorts, an ugly yet endearing sound. 

“It’s a murder trial Stevie, we don’t want to throw assault in there,” Eddie jokes. 

Steve rolls his eyes and readies himself to respond.

In the motion, however, he sees two familiar heads of hair walking up the hallway. 

“... it’s perfect, think about it,” Carol is saying, “We get the internship together and we’re set .”

Tommy is nodding along. Carol’s unmanicured claws are tight around his forearm as they pause at the edge of the crowd. 

“I mean we’ll have to change our Christmas plans if we do…” Carol continues. It doesn’t look like Tommy is all that engaged with her rambling. 

Steve turns to Eddie. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie’s tracked where Steve’s gaze went, seeing the two as well. He raises an eyebrow, but without a word, gestures loosely in their direction. He probably knows exactly what Steve’s thinking. Steve nods once, then strolls right up to them.

“Tommy!” He calls once he’s close enough.

The couple turn towards him. Carol’s expression immediately morphs into a sneer. Tommy, on the other hand, looks confused yet again.

(Steve is realizing now, in retrospect, that Tommy was very good at Alpha posturing and often hid the fact that he’s so easily confused. The passage of time has done wonders for helping Steve let go of his feelings for the Alpha.)

Steve stops right in front of them, unable to hide his giddy grin.

“Do you remember when we spent those four amazing hours in the hot-tub after the Winter Formal our junior year?” He asks. 

Carol chokes, and Tommy blinks rapidly. 

“Yeah–”

Carol tightens her grip on Tommy’s forearm as her head whips over to glare at him.

“Oh– uh– no–” Tommy corrects, clearing his throat weakly.

Steve can tell that Tommy’s thinking about it, vividly. 

The air was as cold as it’d get in Southern California, and they kept each other warm… Steve had stripped down to lacy underthings that went translucent in the water… the heat had enveloped them in far more ways than one…

“Well, this is so much better than that!” Steve says gleefully, bouncing a little where he stands.  

Carol is glaring at Tommy in full, icy force. Steve can also tell what she’s thinking. There is no way Tommy’s treated her like that. Her scent prickles with jealousy.  

It feels so good to get one back on them.

“I can’t wait to work with you two,” he says. He’s still got to be professional even as he’s ecstatic to prove them wrong. Besides, it feels like rubbing salt in the wound. (He’s a multifaceted man, okay? He can be professional but also petty!)

“Wait, work with…?” Tommy’s eyebrows knit. 

Carol puts the pieces together faster than the Alpha. She grits her teeth, and looks over at the board. The crowd is beginning to thin as everyone reads the list and wanders off in disappointment at the names on it. Carol grits her teeth as she turns and starts to pull Tommy towards the board. It seems like they haven’t even seen the list yet. Steve is delighted by the fact that he was the one to break the news.

She lets out an aggravated noise, yanking Tommy with her as she storms off to look to make sure. Tommy follows dutifully, giving Steve one last glance before they disappear into the remaining crowd. 

“I don’t know what you said to her, but holy shit, did you piss her off.” Eddie as he comes up to Steve’s side. 

“Just had to remind Tommy of something, and tell them I’m excited to work with them.” Steve responds, turning to look at Eddie.

Eddie laughs, loud and bright.

“What? I can be petty when I want to.” Steve says with a little shrug and a smile. 

He really can be. He was never outright a mean girl when growing up, but he still acted like one from time to time thanks to the delightful ever-judgmental influence of his mother when he was a kid. He’s mellowed out over the years, thank god, but the bitchiness comes out sometimes. Now was the perfect time.

“This is going to be incredible.” Eddie says after his laughter winds down.

“So, drinks tonight to celebrate?” Steve offers.

Eddie places a hand on his chest with a small gasp. “Why of course, Stevie! I'm hurt that you even had to ask.”

Steve snorts.

Eddie’s not wrong though. This is going to be incredible. 

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

The excitement of the impending internship gets Steve through finals week. 

It’s rough going, with exams and essays and presentations, but he ends up with high enough grades. Definitely not the straight A’s some of his classmates have, but he’s survived his first semester of law school! 

The relief is indescribable. Steve celebrates by crashing face-first into bed and sleeping for ten hours. It seems like a lackluster celebration, but being able to sleep stress-free for the first time since August is a dream come true. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Just as Chrissy had promised, she meets Steve at the airport with a big, obnoxiously glittery pink sign. 

Harvard’s Greatest Intern in big bubble letters, doused in pink and gold glitter. It gets all over them as Steve crushes her in a hug. Holding her close, inhaling the familiar and deeply missed cinnamon-sugar smell warms Steve’s chest and brings tears to his eyes. 

They probably look like fools standing in LAX’s arrivals terminal, but it doesn’t matter. Steve has his packmate close after the longest they’ve ever been separated. 

Unfortunately though, with reuniting with Chrissy, reuniting with his family also comes. 

His father is out on some business trip in Europe, while his mother is at home, meticulously planning the holidays– the company holiday party down to the finest detail, then breaking down Christmas day seemingly minute-by-minute. 

She greets Steve by the front door, delicately holding his forearms as she air-kisses each cheek. Then she pulls back, giving her son a once-over.

“Oh Steven, you look so pale,” she clicks her tongue in disappointment. “I told you that the east coast is cold and dark, it’s ruined your complexion.”

The immediate critique on his appearance is expected, but still doesn’t feel great. She’s always pulled apart all the little things about him in order to point out his flaws. He foolishly had hoped that she’d at least be nice after him being across the country. Foolish on so many levels. Of course she’d never change how she treats him; of course the distance and time wouldn’t matter when she spent the majority of his childhood jet-setting across the world. 

“Hopefully I’ll get some sun while I’m here,” he says placidly. 

She nods once, then launches into the party planning she’s been working on all week.

Again, no questions about how he’s doing. 

Steve sighs silently, and nods along with whatever drivel she’s talking about. He’s learned that that’s the best response. 

 

Stepping into his childhood bedroom feels like stepping into another world. 

His mother had decorated it when he was a child, and he was never really allowed to change anything about it. The room feels like an icy time capsule. Cold and lifeless. His rooms, both in the Delta Nu house and at Harvard, are delicately constructed nests, full of life and saturated in calming warmth. The sheets on his childhood bed are tightly made and scentless, the atrocious plaid walls bare of posters and photos, and all surfaces are dust-free and orderly. 

It makes his skin crawl. 

The feeling persists through the next few days. His father has yet to come home, leaving Steve alone with his mother in their sprawling, picture-perfect home. Steve can’t really believe that he grew up like this. He’s only spent one semester at Harvard, but he feels like an entirely different person. 

Like yeah, he was an independent person at UCLA, but he was still less than an hour away from home. His parents’ influence and leash were heavy around his neck. He had his own life, but at any time, his parents could expect his presence at a lunch at the country club or a business dinner, where they could tout their son as the perfect mate for whichever business partner they were trying to schmooze that week. His parents hated that he presented as an Omega, but the second it suits them, they’ll strut him around like he’s cattle at an auction.

Blissfully, their influence was non-existent at Harvard. He could do whatever the hell he wanted and their opinions didn’t matter. And he did do whatever the hell he wanted. He went to a metal concert dressed up as a fucking Playboy bunny, for christ’s sake! He’s close friends with an Alpha his parents would cross the other side of the street to avoid. And, in a real big fuck you, he left behind the asshole who his parents loved dearly. 

He didn’t realize just how freeing his new life was until it’s gone. 

 

“So I found something out today,” his mother says on Steve’s third day at home. She had just come back from the country club, wearing tennis clothes that he highly doubts she actually played tennis in. 

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. His father should be home late tonight, after Steve and his mother go to bed. He’ll be home just in time to spend Christmas with his family, taking artificial pictures to support the lie that they’re the happy, loving family that they say they are. Then, he’ll be home just long enough for the company holiday on the 27th, before heading off to god-knows-where.

Steve is dreading his father’s arrival. 

“Hm?” Steve asks. 

He’s sitting at the kitchen island, half-heartedly poking at the salad he’s having for lunch. That’s about all there is to eat of substance at home. His mother barely ever cooks, and what little she does eat at home is always something from the newest health-craze she’s trying. And even then, if she saw him eating, god forbid , carbs, she’d make some snippy little comment about his eating habits. 

“I was speaking with Susan Hagan,” she starts.

Steve swallows thickly. He doesn’t look up from his salad. He knows where this is going.

“And she told me something interesting…” she pauses for a moment, letting the silence fill the kitchen uncomfortably in a calculated move to make him uneasy. “I did not know that you and Thomas had broken up.”

Steve bites his bottom lip. “Um… yeah.”

“When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me, Steven?” His mother asks, or just about demands. She stands on the other side of the island, her gaze a weight on Steve’s shoulders.

“I…” Steve starts, but he really doesn’t know what to say. If he tells the full story, his mother will think he’s a massive fucking idiot. She wouldn’t say it in those explicit terms, but he knows that that’s what she’d think. 

“What happened? I was expecting to see you come home with a ring on your finger, but when you didn’t, I was hoping I would see it on Christmas.” She continues. “I’m disappointed. He was perfect. He comes from a very strong family, Steven, it would have been beneficial to you. To us. How did he get away?”

Steve shrugs. “He just… didn’t love me.”

He still doesn’t look up, but he hears his mother hmph. 

She doesn’t have an exact answer, but Steve still knows what she’s thinking. She’s wondering why Steve didn’t try harder to keep Tommy’s attention, or what was so… wrong with him that caused Tommy to fall out of love with him. The important part of both of those thoughts, of which Steve has no doubt about, is that in her mind the blame falls on him . Not on Tommy. Because in her mind, it’s always him that’s the problem.

Also, it’s not out of the realm of possibility that she’d say that being in love didn’t matter. She was probably never in love with his dad, it was just a marriage of convenience thing.

“It was embarrassing,” she changes topics suddenly. “I spoke to Susan, asking when I would be expecting an engagement. And she told me that he was engaged to someone else! Someone else, Steven.”

Steve nods weakly. 

She rattles on, talking about how it’s so disappointing and how she’s so embarrassed because she didn’t know. She doesn’t ask once how Steve felt about it. How his heart was smashed to pieces and then he spent the rest of the year holding all the pieces in shaking hands. How it took him hitting his absolute lowest to finally find the glue to start putting it back together. 

No, all that matters to her is that her son won’t be marrying into the Hagan family. How her son won’t be having little freckled pups. How it all reflects on her and her image.

He doesn’t eat anymore of his lunch. 

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

[Eddie] merry christmas stevie

[Eddie] hope you can rest

[Eddie] the internship starts on like the 4th so no time to relax

[Eddie] 💀💀💀

[Steve] can’t wait :) 

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve meant that text 100% sincerely. He’s thrilled to get started, and just about as thrilled to leave his parent’s house. Christmas was a boring affair, only a handful of gifts exchanged between his family. Steve got an itchy, unflattering pale green sweater, (like ew, that is so not his color, and it makes his skin crawl just poking it!) and a new Cartier watch that surprisingly doesn’t look all that bad. 

He dipped out of his parent’s company holiday party to spend the day with Chrissy. They didn’t do anything exciting, just sat around in their pjs watching bad rom-coms and gossiping. But it felt just like old times, so it was perfect. 

Then he’s flying back to Massachusetts before New Year’s. The year before, he and his sorority sisters had a big NYE party, the kind that would be talked about for years to come. But this year, it’s a quieter affair. It’s not lowkey by any means, but in comparison.

He meets up with Eddie and his bandmates at a nearby college bar, and they split drinks and chat the night away. Not everyone’s come back for the semester yet, so the bar is not as full as it would normally be. The countdown brings the house down though. 

Instead of a New Year’s kiss, Steve and the band knock back shots. 

To our single-ness, and the hopes that we find somebody soon! Gareth had yelled before tapping his glass on the bartop and gulping it down. The band had echoed his call.

Steve wished for success in the new year. The internship starts in just a few days. It’s going to be brutal work, but he’s going to think positively. He’s got this. 

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Steve takes a deep breath. In, hold, out. In, hold, out.

He stands at the end of the hall, just past the elevators. On the opposite end is Brenner’s firm, taking up half the floor of a very fancy building closer to downtown Boston. He’s a few minutes early, so he’s got time to take a few deep breaths and do an internal pep-talk. 

I can do this. I am capable. I can do this. I am capable. 

The elevator chimes behind him. He glances over his shoulder, seeing Robin step out. 

He’s yet to see Tommy and Carol, which he counts as a win. He’d really hate to run into them while he’s psyching himself up. Fortunately, it seems like kindred spirits with Robin, who looks just as nervous. 

She’s a Beta, so her barely-there scent gives nothing away. But there’s a tightness to her shoulders and she looks two seconds away from panicking. She lifts her gaze, finding Steve’s almost instantly. Her eyes widen further. If that was possible?

“Nervous?” He asks in a weak joke.

Robin huffs out a soft, thready laugh. “I think I’m going to pass out.”

Steve snorts. “I barely slept last night.”

It’s true. He’s running almost entirely on caffeine currently. 

Robin exhales slowly. There’s a few feet of space between them. It feels far less icy than it did all those months ago at welcome week. 

Throughout the fall semester, Steve hadn’t spoken to her. They shared half of their classes, as most law school first-years do, but largely avoided each other. It doesn’t help that when Steve was on his downward spiral, he was stuck in his own little world without really paying attention to anyone else. 

Maybe this can be a fresh start though.

“Hey… um… I know we didn’t really have a great start back in August,” he says sheepishly.

Robin’s brows furrow as she looks at him warily.

“Not holding that against you or anything, I promise,” he says quickly, really hoping to mitigate whatever negative thing she’s probably thinking. “But, since we’re working together now, do you think we could start over?”

Robin looks him over for a long, considering moment.

He gets it. He knows he still looks out of place. Robin’s outfit is in dark, neutral tones, while Steve wears a soft blue sweater-vest over a white button-up. But look, he’s not going to sacrifice his wardrobe, okay? 

Robin nods. “Okay. Since we’ll be working together.”

Steve cracks a smile. “Okay.” 

Robin nods again, then looks down the hall. 

“We’re going to be late,” she says, glancing back at him.

Steve nods too, and together they walk down to Brenner’s firm.

Steve will take Robin’s acceptance as a win. He’s obviously not going to have Carol or Tommy in his corner for this internship, so having Eddie, and now Robin, as allies will hopefully help.

Key word being hopefully.

 

Tommy and Carol were already there, sitting close together in the conference room they have gathered in. Steve takes a seat on the other side of the table, not directly in front of either of them. Robin takes a seat on the same side, leaving one chair between them. 

Eddie comes in a minute or so later, carrying a large stack of manila folders. He can’t really wave while holding it all, so he just grins at Steve. Steve smiles back, lifting his hand just enough to do a little finger wave. 

He can feel two pairs of eyes on him from across the table, but ignores them completely. 

Eddie sets the files down with a slightly overdone huff. Steve has to bite his bottom lip to keep in a chuckle. He can see the Alpha preparing to make some silly joke– a look in his eye as he parts his lips. 

Dr. Brenner strides into the room before he can start. 

The atmosphere changes in a second. Eddie sobers up, his easy smile fading. The four interns sit up straighter in their chairs.

Behind Dr. Brenner are two other men, presumably employees of his. They don’t look as severe as Brenner, but that is a pretty high bar to match. They all take a seat, with Dr. Brenner at the head of the conference table and his two associates on either side. 

“We have a lot to cover, so we don’t need to bother wasting time. I am sure all of you know each other anyway,” Brenner says as he takes the first manila folder off the stack Eddie brought in. 

Steve wants to glance at the others. See how they’re fairing with the sudden attitude change, but he’s a little scared of looking away from Brenner, if he’s honest. It’s intimidating enough being in class with him, but here, it’s a small room with only eight of them. There are no textbooks or other students to hide behind here. 

“We are defending Brooke Wyndham,” Dr. Brenner starts.

The name sounds familiar… but Steve can’t quite place it yet.

“Her very wealthy husband was found shot to death in their Beacon Hill mansion.”

“Gold digger?” Tommy cuts in. 

Steve frowns, glancing across the table. It is deeply unsurprising that that is Tommy’s first assumption.

Brenner huffs out a laugh, opening the folder in front of him. “One would think. Her husband was 62, nearly double her age, but she was rich on her own. Some sort of fitness empire. Fitness videos, brand deals, the whole works.”

As he explains, Brenner slides a photo of the couple across the table.

The name is familiar! 

“Oh, that’s Brooke Taylor.” Steve says before he can really even think about it. 

All eyes on the room turn to him. 

“Yes… her maiden name is Taylor.” Brenner answers slowly. “Do you know her?”

“Not personally, no. But she’s a Delta Nu. She wasn’t in my pledge class, obviously, but everyone knew her,” Steve explains. “I also took her classes. She’s really good at what she does.”

Seriously, it’s like he sweated out three pounds in one class. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees Tommy and Carol share a look. Carol looks like she’s fighting hard to contain a snotty comment. The unnamed associates next to Brenner look amused as well. 

“Well, in all likelihood, she’s probably really guilty as well.” Brenner replies, emphasizing just enough to ride the line of mockery. “She was found standing over her husband’s dead body.”

“By who?” Robin asks. She’s got a notebook in front of her that she’s already beginning to take notes in. 

“The husband’s 26 year old daughter and the pool boy.” Brenner answers. 

Robin nods, ducking her head to continue writing. 

“And the murder weapon?” Tommy asks, actually joining the conversation with something constructive. 

Brenner clicks his tongue. “Still missing. The coroner said he’d been dead for about 30 minutes when the police arrived, giving Brooke plenty of time to stash it somewhere.”

Steve furrows his eyebrows. This doesn’t feel right. 

“She swears that they were happily married,” Brenner says. Then, he sighs through his nose. “If she took a plea, we could have her out in less than five years. However, she insists she did not kill him.”

“What’s her alibi?” Carol asks.

“That’s the problem.” Brenner shakes his head in annoyance. “She refuses to give me one. So, this is your most important task. You need to get an alibi out of her. She has trouble trusting me, it seems”

that’s no surprise,

“but I am her only chance to win. Maybe she’ll listen to people… closer to her age.”

Something really doesn’t seem right. 

From everything Steve knows about Brooke, she’s a genuine woman. She’s an Omega, but doesn’t fit into the stereotype at all. Instead of being petite and demure, she’s a bold woman who built her wealth with her own hands. She’s proud of her figure, not ashamed to be more muscular and a few inches taller than most Omegan women. That’s part of her whole thing– empowering Omegas to take control of their bodies and help them feel more comfortable in their skin no matter what societal expectations are. 

Like yeah, he took Brooke’s class because his mom pushed him to, but he came out of that course with far more than he thought he’d get. She doesn’t talk about getting fit in order to be skinny; she talks about exercise as a way to have agency in your body, a way to feel better about yourself… a way to help protect yourself if in danger.

How could a woman like that kill her husband?

“I just don’t think Brooke could have done this,” Steve cuts in.

All eyes turn, once again, to him. Brenner blinks slowly. Carol barely masks an eye-roll by looking away. 

“What makes you say that?” Dr. Brenner raises an eyebrow.

“I mean… exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don’t just shoot their husbands.” Steve forces himself to stay confident despite the growing looks of disbelief from the others.

Carol can’t even bother to mask her snort. But Eddie sits a few seats down, smiling warmly at Steve. That warm smile helps. They know each other well enough by now that Eddie knows how Steve thinks. It may seem random and inconsequential, like it slipped through Steve’s mental filter. But Eddie trusts Steve enough to let Steve follow that seemingly random train of thought, and to see how he’s tied two separate thoughts together into a connection no one else saw.

Unfortunately, no one else has the same kind of trust.

Dr. Brenner slowly exhales through his nose.

“Okay. Then, who do you think did it?” He’s clearly humoring Steve’s train of thought, but Steve doesn’t let that phase him.

“Well, probably the ex-wife or the daughter.” Steve replies easily. 

“Chutney has a trust fund. She wouldn’t need the insurance payoff or inheritance,” Brenner replies without hesitation.

Okay, first of all, Chutney? What an unfortunate name, holy shit! Eddie thinks so too, because he meets Steve’s eyes with his bottom lip in between his teeth to half-mask a grin.

“What about the ex-wife?” Robin asks. She doesn’t glance over at Steve to confirm, but the question is enough for Steve to know that they’ve definitely started anew. 

“Covered,” Brenner says with a headshake. “She was on a ski trip in Aspen at the time. A dozen people saw her downing martinis at the hotel bar.”

Steve presses his lips into a flat line. 

“What about the pool boy? Were there any others in the house?” Robin continues.

Dr. Brenner thumbs through the folder in front of him. “Well, he did say he did not see Chutney until…”

It kind of hurts to have Dr. Brenner take Robin’s train of thought into actual consideration while Steve gets dismissed. Like yeah, they got to this line of questioning through his own, but still… 

Steve stays quiet as the conversation moves on, busying himself with taking notes. 

He reminds himself that this is only the first day. He’s still getting his bearings with an actual, non-hypothetical, court case. 

He glances over at Eddie. The Alpha is listening intently, but seems to sense Steve’s gaze and looks over. One corner of his mouth quirks up in a smile. He’s still got Eddie’s support. 

Steve takes a deep, measured breath.  

I can do this. I am capable. I can do this. I am capable.

 

Notes:

not me smashing together scenes from the musical and the movie and blatantly stealing dialogue from both 🫣🫣🫣 hahahahaha

I'll say this again though, hopefully chapter 9 sees the light of day in August. I've got an obscene amount of idle time at work, so if I gather up the motivation I have more than enough time to write. It's just... motivation. she be a fickle mistress. haha.
so, if you'd like to see what I'm up to in between updates, I have a twitter! Have a lovely day my friends, thank you for your continued support no matter how much time has passed between updates <3<3

Chapter 9: "It wasn't my alibi to tell."

Summary:

The interns take a trip to the prison to meet Brooke Wyndham for the first time. The meeting comes with mixed results.

Notes:

I live up to my years-long writing habits. I either write 300 words in 3 weeks or 3,000 in 3 hours. I had a MASSIVE writing day yesterday, knocking out chapter 10 and half of chapter 11. So much good stuff is on the way, I can't wait!!!
and hopefully it will be here before September is out. I'm wrapping up my internship in the Atlanta region, thank god. I reeeeeally do not like my job, but I've got another lined up in North Carolina! I'll be moving again in a few weeks but hopefully this job goes much better and leaves me with some more free-time. I'll no longer be working in baseball so no more 12 hour days, woohoo!!

Now enjoy this chapter yall, I had a blast with it <3<3

This was Steve’s first visit to prison. And if he rocked this internship, he knew this would be far from the last.

The second day of the internship brings them to the local prison to meet with Ms. Wyndham. Steve’s a little excited, honestly. He can’t wait to meet her, and is hopeful that they get something useful out of all this. 

They’re all sitting at a table in a visitation room. Manilla folders and legal pads are spread across the table, all ready to meet with their client. Tommy and Carol sit together, of course. Steve takes a seat next to Eddie, who gives him a warm smile. Dr. Brenner comes in last, posting up at the door to watch over them. On the opposite wall he’s leaning against is another door, this time leading off to the inmate spaces of the prison.

They only wait a few minutes before that door opens and Ms. Wyndham walks in (in a deeply unflattering orange jumpsuit in Steve’s opinion). It doesn’t detract from her beauty though. She’s a tall Omega with lightly tanned skin and long, silky blonde hair. She radiates natural beauty with her Greek nose and firm jawline. Steve knows that she’s toned and muscular under that baggy jumpsuit. 

“Ms. Wyndham, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Eddie greets pleasantly.

“Brooke, please. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together,” she replies as she takes a seat opposite of her legal team. 

“Sounds great.” Eddie nods. He laces his fingers together and rests them on the table. “We’d love to discuss your case. Go over a few of your options.”

Brooke nods, settling into her chair.

The whole room is doused in scent-neutralizing spray, hiding everyone’s true emotions. Actually, the whole prison is neutralized. Natural pheromones could be a nasty manipulator if used correctly. Having strong scents could lead to aggression and territorialism between Alphas. 

Brooke is good at keeping her expression calm. Without her scent, she gives nothing away about what she’s truly feeling.

“We’d like to free you as soon as possible,” Eddie continues. “However, there is a lot of evidence stacked against you. In order to get you out of here, the jury is going to need strong evidence against that. We’re going to need an alibi.”

Brooke presses her lips into a flat line. She takes a slow, measured breath.

“I can’t do that.” She says after a moment. 

“Even though it could save you?” Eddie asks.

“If you put me on the stand, I’m going to be forced to lie.” Brooke replies, smooth and simple.

“Ms. Wyndham,” Tommy cuts in. “If we can’t hear an alibi, then you should accept a plea bargain.”

Brooke frowns then. “And then admit to something I didn’t do? I’m not going to take the fall for my husband’s killer.”

“With a plea bargain, you’d get out in a couple of years. That sounds reasonable enough.” Carol chimes in with condescension lacing through.

Brooke’s frown deepens. “Again, I’m not doing that. I loved him. Why would I kill a man I loved?”

“The DA can come up with many reasons,” Eddie replies, not unkindly. “Insurance, love affair, hatred…”

He’s just stating the truth, and it seems like Brooke knows it with how her shoulders dip just a touch. Brooke sniffles a little. Her true feelings are starting to break through. 

“I loved him. I know it doesn’t look that way but I did. We hadn’t mated yet, but we were planning on it. Next month, we were going to take a trip to Morocco…” She trails off, not needing to finish the sentence. 

Eddie gives her a sad, sympathetic smile. 

Usually, it’s customary for couples to exchange mating bites on their wedding night. But it’s not rare to do it at other times. Brooke and her late husband had their reasons, Steve imagines.

“Why were you waiting?” Robin asks softly. 

“He got divorced from his first wife… his first mate. He was ready for us to be married, but mating again was… something that took him time to be ready for.” Brooke’s voice is equally soft. Her eyes are glassy. “I was happy to wait for him to be ready.”

There’s a long beat of silence as her words settle. 

Brooke sighs. She lifts a hand to rub at her eyes. The cuffs around her wrist clink together. 

“Listen… I need a legal team that knows I’m innocent. Unless you change your minds, I think we’re done here.” As she speaks, she keeps a hand over her eyes.

Steve’s eyebrows furrow as he watches her shoulders tighten. The impassive mask she put on his cracking. Steve gets it. Deeply. That kind of lying in order to protect yourself. 

The people around him start to pack their things up and step out of the room. Brooke sits there, waiting for the guard to come back in to fetch her. Steve takes his time putting things away so after a minute, it’s just the two of them alone. 

Brooke senses his presence, finally letting her hand fall away. The edges of her eyes are red, but no tears have fallen yet. She looks him over, that blank mask falling back into place.

“You look… familiar.” She says.

“I’m Steve– a huge fan of yours,” Steve replies with a small smile. “I took a few of your classes back in L.A.”

Recognition crosses her face. The corners of her mouth move up into a barely-there smile.

“You had the best high-kick I’ve ever seen,” she laughs a little. 

“And I’m a Delta Nu. President of it, too.” Steve says.

“Are you one of my lawyers?” She asks. Her smile is widening.

“Well… I’m an intern. But yeah, I’m on the legal team.” Steve nods.

Brooke sighs in relief. “Well, thank god. One of you gets me.”

“Of course!” Steve laughs a little. “Delta Nus stick together.”

Brooke is nearly grinning now. 

“I believe you Brooke. Honestly. I will do everything I can to clear your good name,” Steve says. He rests his elbows on the table, leaning closer to her. “But… that involves an alibi…”

Her smile dims immediately. “I told you, I can’t do that.”

“Please, Brooke. Everyone has their secrets, I get it.” Steve’s voice softens. He really, really does. Obviously he’s never been in Brooke’s situation, but he feels for her. “I never told anyone that before I presented, I wore lifts in my shoes.”

It’s true. Again, father wanting an Alpha son.

Brooke’s eyes flick down, even though they’re both sitting. Steve’s scent may be neutralized, but she still knows he’s an Omega. He hopes that, plus being sorority sisters, leaves her feeling comfortable enough to talk. 

“It’s beyond lifts.” Brooke near-whispers. “It’s… it’s nuclear, Steve. If it gets out, I could lose everything. So many people already want to rip me apart. If this gets out… I’m done. ”

Her eyes move back up, meeting Steve’s from across the table. She takes a slow breath, shoulders rising and falling in the motion. 

“If I tell you, will you Delta Nu sister swear not to tell anybody?” As she asks, she crosses her fingers, sweeps her arm out, then draws it back in with a twist. A movement Steve knows like the back of his hand. 

He cracks a smile, repeating the motion with an extra swirl in the wrist. “I will double Delta Nu sister swear.”

Brooke breaks into a grin. “You’re wonderful Steve.”

Steve smiles too. 

This feels good. Everyone in this internship (besides Eddie, duh,) looks down on him, but who’s the one who got their client’s trust? This guy! 

Brooke drops her hand, and rests her cuffed arms on the metal table. She leans in. Steve leans in even further, knowing that whatever she’s about to say is a secret for just the two of them.

“On the day my husband was shot, I had–” she pauses, then mouths something that Steve doesn’t pick up.

He furrows his brow. “I can’t read lips.”

“Lipo…” her voice cracks.

“What?”

Brooke huffs, “liposuction!”

Steve gasps, eyes widening to dinner plates. Brooke makes a frustrated noise, dropping her head so she can’t be seen behind her lush blonde waves.

“Minimally invasive, it was outpatient–” she speaks fast.

The door behind her opens. A guard steps in.

“Wyndham, your time is up,” the guard says tersely. 

“I had to!” She raises her head. She looks the most distressed she has all day. 

The guard tucks their hand in the crook of her elbow, forcing her out of her chair. 

“My followers can’t know Steve–” her voice wavers.

“Your secret is safe with me, I promise,” Steve calls after her as she is brought through the door. 

The heavy metal door slams shut, and Steve is left in silence. 

Liposuction. 

Steve knows how that could ruin her. He grew up on tabloid magazines and paparazzi photos. Omegas have been destroyed for less. Lipo for a fitness queen…? She would be done for. 

So… where does that leave them? Let Brooke go to prison for a murder she didn’t commit, or reveal her alibi so she gets off scot-free in legal court, but is then guilty in the court of public opinion?

“Stevie?” 

Steve whirls around. 

Eddie’s standing in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed. “What are you still doing in here?” 

“I got it.” Steve says, glancing over his shoulder at the other door. 

“Got… what?” 

“Her alibi.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up behind the cut of his bangs. “You did ? How…?”

Steve steps up to him. The Alpha steps off to the side so he can come through the door. Out in the hall, the rest of the legal team is gathered. They all turn to them when they realize what Eddie meant in his question. 

“So, what is it?” Dr. Brenner asks. Or really, demands. His gaze is intense.

Steve realizes in that moment just how badly this is going to turn out. 

“I… uh…” Steve tries to find the best way to say it. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?” Brenner’s face pinches in disbelief. 

Steve exhales sharply. Well, fuck it, why not? What else is there to say?

“I double Delta Nu sister swore not to.”

Carol scoffs from behind Brenner. 

“Are you an idiot? This isn’t some stupid sorority thing! Her life is on the line!” She’s turning red as her voice rises in frustration.

“She’ll be fine! She really didn’t have anything to do with his death!” Steve defends. 

Besides Eddie, who stands just behind Steve, they all glare down at him. Even Carol, who is shorter than him, finds a way to loom over him. 

“Eddie? A word.” Dr. Brenner’s gaze is as dark as a thunderstorm. He turns and the group of interns part like the Red Sea for him. 

Eddie steps around Steve. He glances over, a sympathetic smile on. His fingers brush against Steve’s elbow as he passes. A small sign that he’s still there. Steve can’t manage a smile back. 

The Alpha follows after Brenner, the two taking a turn down the corridor to speak alone. 

That leaves Steve alone with Tommy, Carol, and Robin. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Now that they’re alone, Carol steps right up to him and curses. “If you don’t give up the alibi, we are guaranteed to lose this case.”

Steve sighs. “Then… I guess we aren’t very good lawyers.”

Carol curses again in frustration, throwing her hands up. There is no doubt that if she had her scent, it’d be spicy with anger. 

Tommy comes up next to her, curling a hand around her wrist to bring her hands back down. She yanks her hand out of his grasp, and turns to walk away.

Tommy turns to face Steve fully. He sighs, then opens that stupid fucking mouth.

“Would you stop being a Marilyn?”  

Steve bristles, which makes Tommy jolt.

“I-I mean– Steve– Brenner wants that alibi. If you tell him, and you can sail through law school, knowing that there’s a job guaranteed for you after graduation,” the Alpha says in an attempt to get his point across as inoffensive as possible. But, that in fact makes things worse, since now he just revealed that he probably was aware of how badly Steve was doing last semester.

Steve’s scowl deepens. 

“I gave Brooke my word,” he replies, strong and deadly serious. 

“So what? Who cares?!” Tommy scoffs with a heavy eye-roll.

“Who cares? I care, I–” Steve is raring himself up for an argument when Brenner appears at the end of the corridor. 

Eddie stands next to him looking like a chastised child, chin dropped and eyes on the floor. 

“Field trip’s over. We’re going back to the office.” Brenner’s voice cuts through the growing tension. 

Steve exhales sharply through his nose. He pushes past Tommy and subsequently Carol, except Brenner’s voice stops him once more.

“Except for you two.” Brenner says to Steve, then his eyes slide to Eddie. “I’d rather not see you two again today.”

It freezes Steve where he stands. 

Carol and Tommy pass him by with expressions a blend of frustration and smugness. Robin walks behind them, barely glancing at Steve. 

The footsteps of the others echo down the hall as they leave Eddie and Steve behind. 

Steve feels like he’s been transported back to that very first day of law school. Kicked out of class because he wasn’t good enough.

Steve swallows thickly.

There’s a gulf between him and Eddie. Wide and cavernous. 

“Eddie, I’m sorry.” Steve whispers. 

Eddie shakes his head. His face is hidden behind his hair. Without his scent, Steve has no idea what’s going on in his mind. But he has the distinct feeling that whatever’s going on is not good.

“I don’t need you to be sorry, Steve. I need you to tell me the alibi,” Eddie says lowly.

Steve. Not Stevie, or sweetheart, or any of the other cute nicknames Eddie’s developed for him. Steve . That feels like a bigger kick to the throat than Dr. Brenner’s disappointment was. Steve’s eyebrows furrow. He crosses the gulf between them, stopping right in front of Eddie.

“I have Brooke my word,” Steve says, quiet and soft. 

Eddie huffs. He lifts his chin, revealing an expression of deep frustration mixed with something else that Steve can’t quite pin down. He hopes that Eddie’s obvious frustration isn’t directed entirely at him.

“We can do this without her alibi.” Steve continues. 

“Well, it sure would help!” Eddie throws his hands up, spinning on his toe so he can start marching down the hall towards the prison entrance.

Steve takes a few large steps to catch back up with him. Eddie’s legs are a lot longer than Steve’s– he has to keep a fast pace to stay next to the Alpha.

“Work with me then!” Steve replies, a little thready. “We can free Brooke the right way, the noble way. Without breaking her trust.”

Eddie scoffs now. They reach a door, and the Alpha slams his palms into the pushbar to throw it open. 

“This isn’t a Lifetime movie Steve! Not really interested in nobility right now! Bit more interested in saving Brooke’s life here!” Eddie damn near yells. 

Steve’s eyebrows furrow further. Nobility is like one of Eddie’s nerdy buzzwords! Dwarves and daggers or whatever that game is called! 

“No you’re not! You’re far more interested in impressing Brenner!” Steve replies. 

He’s getting just as frustrated as Eddie now. Why isn’t Eddie sticking to his guns? Steve did! One would’ve thought Eddie would dig his feet in while Steve folded, but it seems like the tables have turned. Steve’s not going to break his promise to Brooke, no way. What’s going on with Eddie that he suddenly can’t be the same?

“Well he is my boss. If I stop fucking up, he’ll make me associate,” Eddie says, voice and body tight with tension.

“At the cost of jeopardizing our client’s trust and our integrity?” Steve snaps.

They’ve made it to the little lobby of the prison by now. Fortunately, it’s basically empty because Eddie suddenly halts and Steve nearly collides into his back. He course-corrects just in time, stepping to the side so he can stand in front of Eddie.

The Alpha scoffs first. Then, inhales slowly through the nose, and holds for a few long seconds. On the exhale, he groans and waves his arms around in a deeply Muppet-like way.

“Well when you put it that way!” Eddie’s voice goes all funny and high, close to his usual overdramatic tone except if you kicked it up an octave or two.

Steve presses his lips into a flat line, widening his eyes and tilting his chin down in a yeah-huh you dumbass way. 

The motion breaks through Eddie’s frustration. He exhales a laugh, one corner of his mouth tugging up.

“Why do you always have to be right?” Eddie murmurs, amused. 

Steve cracks a smile.

“I’m not always. Just with you.” He replies with a shrug. 

Eddie rolls his eyes with a little headshake, far from annoyed now. Steve chuckles.

The tension between them has eased. Eddie just needed someone to pull his head out of his ass. It feels kinda good for Steve to be doing the pulling. He’s usually the one being pulled.

As they step out of the main door, a thought enters Steve’s mind.

“Hey, I have an idea, if you want to impress Brenner.” Steve says. 

“Oh?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.

“Look, I love your scruffy, stuck-in-the-80’s metalhead vibe,” Steve starts. 

Eddie parts his mouth to protest, but Steve cuts him off with a single raised finger.

“But you know that Brenner doesn’t listen to anything harder than jazz.” 

The joke makes Eddie snort.

“You have to look the part if you want to get ahead. Let me help.” Steve grins. 

Ideas are already swirling in his head and he feels damn near giddy.

“Steve–” Eddie’s smile dims, just a touch, but he plays it off with a joke– “didn’t your mother ever tell you to not judge a book by its cover?”

“Uh no, she’s a judgmental bitch,” Steve replies bluntly, startling a laugh out of the Alpha. “But I know that. I just also know that books with tattered covers tend to stay on the shelf.”

Eddie makes an ugly scoff-snort noise. “ Wow– tell a man how you really feel–!”

“Hey! I’m just saying!” Steve throws his hands up and wide in surrender. “I just know what it’s like to be constantly judged… as much as it sucks, appearances matter.”

That is a fact he knows deeply. And Eddie knows that. 

They’ve gotten close these last few months. Close enough that Steve feels like Eddie’s his best friend. (Besides Chrissy, duh.) But the depth of Steve’s emotional turmoil since coming to Harvard hasn’t really been discussed. Eddie knows enough though. Enough that they feel kindredness in their other-ness amongst their peers. They’re kind of on opposite ends of the spectrum– Steve, a preppy California-sorority transplant, and Eddie, who is far from what an Alpha is expected to be in both appearance and personality. But, still. Otherness.

“Do you trust me?” Steve asks after a long beat of silence.

“I feel scared to say yes.” Eddie replies.

Steve chuckles, a small smile on his lips. “Let me help you then. You helped me all last semester with that big brain of yours. Time for me to return the favor in my area of expertise.” 

“Then yes. I do trust you,” Eddie says. 

Steve’s smile brightens.

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

Eddie looks like a fish so far out of water he might as well be on a mountain. 

They stand at the central entrance at the nearby mall.

(Yes, mall. Steve doesn’t like online shopping. He’s got to try on the clothes before he buys, okay?)

(Besides, the place is actually pretty damn cool. Starcourt Mall is like a time capsule– built in the 80’s and hasn’t been remodeled. But, instead of the owners letting the place age horribly, they’ve remained fully in the 80’s aesthetic with the bright colors, neon-tubing lights, and stylized signage. That dedication to the aesthetic has actually kept the place afloat.)

Anyway, the mall isn’t as busy as it would’ve been in its heyday, but there’s still a good amount of people around. Especially for like, early afternoon on a Tuesday.

“I have lived here my entire life, and I have never stepped foot in here,” Eddie comments.

“Oh, I love malls.” Steve replies with a grin. 

When he still liked shopping with his mom as a toddler, they would spend an entire day at the mall. Shopping, lunch at the food court, then setting him free in the playground… As he got older, it became a sanctuary for him and Chrissy. Getting away from their parents, staying up-to-date on their wardrobes, sneaking into R-rated films at the theater… 

He’s gone alone a handful of times since coming to Harvard, but it still makes him happy. The comradery he misses, of course, but window shopping and retail therapy is a hell of a pick-me-up for him. 

Eddie snorts, not unkindly. “Of course you would.”

“Hey!” Steve mocks-offense, lightly backhanding Eddie’s shoulder. “If you’re going to trust me, I’d appreciate minimal complaining.”

Eddie gasps, flattening his hand over his heart. “You are asking far too much of me, Stevie.”

Steve laughs. “I think you can contain yourself for a few hours.”

“We’ll see about that…”

 

Steve sits, not incredibly patiently, outside of the fitting room. 

Eddie had contained himself to a certain extent. He didn’t stop cracking jokes, of course, but he let Steve drag him around with no real complaint. He watched as Steve talked with a sales associate about what colors Eddie would look good in, then managed to stay still long enough for another sales associate to take his measurements.

Now, Eddie’s behind a curtain, putting on the suit that he trusted Steve in putting together. 

“Is this the price?” Eddie cries in disbelief from the dressing room.

“Don’t look at it!” Steve calls back. “It’s my gift to you!”

He hears Eddie mumble something, just loud enough to hear his voice but not his words. Then, louder–

“I don’t think tutoring you is worth this much Stevie.”

“You’d be surprised. You would make bank as a private tutor in L.A.” 

“I’m clearly in the wrong place.” Eddie snorts.

Steve doesn’t think so. Far from it, honestly. 

Another minute passes, then Eddie pokes just his head out. 

“I feel like an idiot,” the Alpha says. 

“Let me see.” Steve replies with a kind smile. He highly doubts it. He knows exactly what he asked for.

Eddie’s head disappears. He sighs heavily, loud enough to be heard through the thick curtain. Then, with a sharp exhale, he whips the curtain to the side and steps out. 

Steve’s eyes widen as Eddie steps up to the trifold mirror. Without much thought, he steps up to Eddie so they can look at his reflection together.

“Wow,” Steve exhales.

“I look like an idiot too, huh?” Eddie asks. His voice is soft, laced with insecurity.

Steve shakes his head. 

“Not at all.”

The navy looks incredible against Eddie’s pale complexion. The cut of the pants lengthens his legs. The jacket accentuates his shoulders. He looks…

just… 

wow. 

Eddie presses his lips in a flat line as he fiddles with the hem of the sleeve. “I just… I don’t look like…”

He trails off. Steve knows what that final word would be.

He shakes his head, nudging Eddie with his elbow.

“Not at all,” he repeats. “You look like you. The outside’s new, but it just reflects what’s inside.”

Eddie exhales a laugh through his nose. “You know how tacky that sounds, right?”

“And?” Steve asks. He smiles with a little shrug.

Eddie chuckles. He looks himself over. The insecurity seems to fade as he twists a bit to look over every inch of the suit. 

Steve watches. He feels… pride? Kind of like a parent watching their kid in their first school recital. Like a look at them go, they’re incredible and I did that for them. 

After a minute, Eddie turns to face Steve.

“Thank you,” the Alpha says softly. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay–”

“You don’t.” Steve cuts in, not unkindly. “It’s my gift to you.”

Eddie doesn’t press further. He smiles softly, a little watery with the emotion welling in his eyes.

The distance between them isn’t large. Isn’t even medium. It’s closer to small. Less than a foot, but neither give that fact any attention. 

The suppressant spray they applied at the prison is fading, and neither give that any attention either. Not how both of their scents shift with warmth nor how that change has them leaning in ever so slightly closer. 

The moment only breaks, like a bubble being popped, when a sales associate steps up to them to ask how things are going. 

Steve says they’ll take it, and hands his card over. 

 

 💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

While they were at the mall, Steve couldn’t help but refresh his wardrobe. 

As much as it hurt, he was taking his own advice. He’s a lot of things, but he really tries to not be a hypocrite. He has to look the part as well. So his soft colored sweaters are now reserved for days off. He buys new ones in deeper colors like emerald green, deep navy, and charcoal. Classy, professional colors while still flattering to his skin tone. The fabrics are still soft though, of course, he’d never wear something itchy or rough. 

Now he walks up the dorm building stairs, arms laden with shopping bags. He pushes open the door to his floor with his hip, then starts to shift the bags so he can grab his room key from his coat pocket. As he’s fitting his key into the lock, he hears his name from down the hall.

He turns, expecting the worst. Like Carol. Except it’s Robin, standing a few doors down. She’s bundled up in an oversized Berkeley sweatshirt and black athletic shorts; obviously her PJs. 

“Hi…?” Steve replies. 

He doesn’t quite know what to expect. Robin had been fairly quiet at the prison earlier, not giving anything away on her opinion on Steve’s refusal to give up the alibi. She doesn’t look annoyed now, but also doesn’t have any particularly positive expression. Just passive.

She pads up to him in her (admittedly cute) Eeyore slippers. 

“I… I wanted to compliment you,” she says. 

Steve doesn’t know what for. The confusion must show, because she bites her bottom lip and shifts her weight as she tries to gather her words.

“I mean– compliment you on what happened earlier. On sticking to your guns. About Brooke’s alibi.” 

“Oh…?” He trails off, not really sure what to say.

“Like, I would’ve folded immediately. Or like, not even got it in the first place. You got her alibi, her trust, and then didn’t break your promise to her to Brenner,” Robin continues, rambling just a touch. She’s fiddling with the already fraying hem of her sweatshirt. 

Steve finds it a bit endearing, and smiles warmly. “I gave my word to her. It wasn’t my alibi to tell.”

“Still,” Robin replies.

“Anyway, what kind of lawyer would I be if I broke my client’s trust?” Steve says with a small shrug.

Robin nods a little.

There’s a beat of silence, then Robin snorts. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“You should’ve heard Tommy when we left,” she says softly, a little bit shy. 

“Oh?” Steve’s immediately intrigued. He must perk up visibly because Robin cracks a grin. 

“Oh yeah. He was cursing up a storm . It was hilarious.”

Steve groans a little in disappointment. It kinda feels like when you miss a day at school and that one day there’s like three fights. You always miss the good stuff the one time you aren’t there. “Did he get all red and huffy?”

“Absolutely.” Robin confirms with a nod.

Steve leans over, knocking the side of his head against his door. “Fuck.”

Robin laughs.

“I would’ve loved to see that…” Steve sighs heavily. 

He’s not exaggerating whatsoever. Tommy always looked a little goofy getting mad. He’d get flushed and a little short of breath, worked up enough to not really focus on breathing. It was worrisome in the moment, but looking back, the Alpha looked kind of ridiculous. 

“And Carol was getting all snippy too,” Robin continues. “Her voice got all high and squeaky.”

Steve ugly-snorts. “God, she’s such a bitch.”

“I know,” Robin stage-whispers with wide eyes. 

“Did you know I used to date Tommy?” Steve asks. 

Robin gasps a little. “No, really?”

“God, yeah. I don’t know how.” Steve nods.

That is another looking-back-thing. Really, how did he stay with Tommy for that long?

“Do you want to come in?” Steve asks, gesturing to his door. “I can tell you about it.”

“Yes please!” Robin nods enthusiastically. “I love drama that’s not my own.”

“Then you’ll love this,” Steve laughs as he twists the key in the lock. 

Robin bounces on her toes, a little high-pitched noise coming from her throat. He unlocks the door, then steps aside so she can step in first. She’s nearly buzzing with excitement, and he feels that buzzing too. It’s been so long, too long , since he’s had a good gossip sesh. 

“So, we met in undergrad in L.A…”

 

Notes:

so the musical has a scene where Elle takes Emmett to get a new suit. It's a truly fantastic scene and the fact that it exists in the source material is perfect because in late July, I actually stumbled across the mall where Starcourt was filmed in! It was truly unexpected, because there's a Korean supermarket in one of the anchor stores and I decided to visit on one of my days off since it was about a 20 minute drive for me. I passed by a side-entrance, and I'm always curious about abandoned malls, so a quick google search and the second image result was indeed Starcourt! Unfortunately, the mall itself is closed off entirely to the public, but I nabbed a few photos from inside of the Macy's haha it was such a neat and unexpected find!

Anyway, things are a'brewing between Eddie and Steve... 😘😘
If you'd like to keep up with me in between updates though, I have a twitter where I post every so often. I'm starting to bat around ideas for projects after I wrap up this one, so input is always appreciated on that :) have a lovely rest of your day yall!! <3<3

Chapter 10: "What kind of shoes are these?"

Summary:

The trial starts and immediately things aren't going well. However, an off-handed jab at Steve could be the breakthrough they desperately need.

Notes:

If you're familiar with the source material, you know that the upcoming scene is pretty much built on gay stereotypes of the early 2000's. It's not deeply offensive, but still kinda cringe when looking back on it. I tried my absolute damndest to not lean into those stereotypes as badly as the source material, but if I completely removed them, I would to do an intense amount of work to rewrite the scene that quite frankly, I do not have the energy to do. So I tried my best yall.

Anyway, I hope yall enjoy!!! There's one specific joke in here that I cracked tf up making so if you think you spot it, let me know and I'll tell you if you're right or not hahahaha

TV really makes criminal trials look speedy. Like someone gets arrested and then a week later they’re in court. That is so not true. 

After Steve makes it clear that he’s not giving up the alibi, the team is forced to change tactics to get a defense together. It’s a lot of interviewing, note-taking, and researching. Steve had assumed that they would be working non-stop to free Brooke, but the process is pretty slow in reality. The interns really just do the organizational work, so Steve only works a handful of hours per day a few times a week in Brenner’s firm.

And speaking of Brenner… the professor makes his disappointment in Steve obvious. He doesn’t outright dismiss Steve, but he gives him the boring shit. Not as bad as coffee running, but only a step above at Notetaker Number One. Whatever meetings Steve attends, he sits off to the side with his head ducked as he furiously types out anything anybody says. 

It’s tedious, but Steve sticks it out. He’s got to make this work. It’s hard, of course. He’s still expected to handle a full course-load. Fortunately, all his professors are aware of his internship and give him some slack. (Not much, just some.) But that still means class every day of the week and very little freetime.

At least he’s staying on top of his classwork this semester. It’s difficult to balance both, but he’s yet to fall behind. Small victories.

 

It’s already past midterms by the time the trial begins.

Right out of the gate, things aren’t going well. It’s painfully obvious that the prosecution has a stronger case. The gun that killed Mr. Wyndham was never found, but without Brooke’s alibi, she still looks pretty damn guilty. And today’s interview only cements that opinion.

On the stand is Enrique Salvatore, her poolboy. 

“Can you clarify for the court what exactly your duties were, as the poolboy?” The leading prosecutor asks. 

Enrique raises an eyebrow. He looks relaxed up there, just about lounging in the chair. 

He is an Alpha, and he flaunts it without any reservations. He’s cocky and confident, dressed impeccably in a silk shirt with the top three buttons undone. Borderline inappropriate for a courtroom, but he doesn’t let that phase him. He forgoes scent blockers as well, so his sharp, wood and citrus scent surrounds him like a thick cloud.

“Cleaning the pool.” He answers bluntly. 

To be fair, it is a silly question. Like, it’s in the name.

The prosecutor lifts her hand up, something clearly bundled inside her closed fist. 

“Then, Mr. Salvatore, could you explain to the court what this is?” At the end of her question, she opens her fingers. What she is holding unfurls. Hanging off one finger is a bright red speedo. 

“That was my uniform.” Enrique looks bored by it all, barely glancing at the speedo before scanning the courtroom at large. 

“And was it Ms. Wyndham’s idea to have you wear this uniform?” 

“Yes.”

“And could you tell the court exactly what your relationship was to the defendant?” 

At that question, Enrique straightens up. He leans forward, resting his forearms on the wooden barrier of the witness stand, his gaze sharpening. He smirks.

From the defendant’s table, where Steve sits, Steve immediately recognizes that look. It’s a smug Alpha look, like they know they're the best in the room. It isn't even posturing– they're so full of themselves that they don't need to pretend. They are just so damn sure that they’re the best. It makes Steve’s skin crawl.

“Brooke and I were lovers.” Enrique says, his Italian accent smoothing out his words. 

In one motion, the entire defending team looks at Brooke.

She sits at the end of the table, dressed impeccably in an emerald green, silk blouse and cream colored wide-leg trousers. Her requests for courtroom attire are particular and beautiful. Steve’s a little jealous of her fashion choices to be honest.

At that accusation though, Brooke’s eyebrows furrow. 

“He was your lover?” Brenner hisses. 

“Ugh! No!” Brooke grits her teeth. “I would never sleep with a man in a thong!”

She shifts, making direct eye-contact with Steve.

“A Delta Nu would never sleep with a man in a thong.” 

Steve believes her in an instant. Like, ew. They’re so tacky! Yeah, Steve’s no stranger to skimpy bathing suits, but a thong? That’s too damn far. It’s something only Alphas would wear too– for the express purpose of showing off what they’re packing down there. That’s the only reason anyone would wear one, unless you’re like a professional swimmer or something. 

“I just liked watching him clean the filter! It made his ass look–” Brooke starts to defend herself.

Brenner scoffs loudly. “You aren’t helping your case. You’re making me look like incompetent up there.”

Brenner shakes his head as he stands up. “Your honor, I request a thirty minute recess.”

The judge grants it, and immediately murmurs fill the courtroom. 

“Why didn’t I know about this disaster?” Brenner asks, turning to face his team. 

“It is a setback, but we’ll–” Eddie starts.

(Steve couldn’t help but feel proud when he first saw Eddie this morning. Eddie’s wearing the suit they got all those weeks ago. He was waiting until court to break it out, and Steve was thrilled when he first saw it. Eddie looks fantastic. His hair is combed through neatly and his tie knotted perfectly. He looks like a million bucks.)

“It’s more than a setback,” Brenner cuts in, clearly frustrated. “It’s motive .”

Great. So now Brooke looks even more guilty. And , Enrique is lying on the stand but now they have to find a way to prove it. They can’t just point a finger at him and get him for perjury. Ugh , TV shows make court look so easy!

Brenner dismisses his interns for five minutes. Steve takes the time to step outside and get a drink from the water fountain down the hall. As he waits in line, he glances down at his phone just to idly check social media. The very first image on Instagram is a picture from Delta Nu– a cute photo of all the sisters enjoying spring break on a sunny beach somewhere on the Gulf of Mexico. 

Steve sighs through his nose. He’s getting his footing here, but it still hurts a little to see reminders of what he left behind. His sisters all look so happy– big smiles and warm tans…

The woman at the water fountain in front of him finishes, but before he can step up someone cuts in. And who is it but Mr. Enrique Salvatore?

“Hey!” Steve calls. 

Enrique doesn’t even glance back.

Fucking knothead! 

And Enrique takes his sweet time getting a drink. Steve starts to tap his shoe, not really caring how bitchy he comes off. That Alpha is so self-centered!

Enrique takes one last sip, then he slowly straightens back up. He turns at the same speed, running his tongue across his bottom lip to catch the stray drops. He looks Steve up and down with open disdain.

“Don’t you stomp your little last-season Prada shoes at me,” Enrique sasses. He doesn’t give Steve time to respond before he’s brushing past him. Their shoulders don’t connect fully, but Steve feels his shirt rustle.

“These aren’t last season–” Steve whispers under his breath. Then, a lightbulb goes off.

 

“Eddie!” Steve whisper-yells as he power-walks back into the courtroom.

At his name, Eddie turns from where he’s skimming over a file. 

“Something wrong?” Eddie asks, eyebrows furrowing.

“No, not at all! I know how to catch Enrique in a lie.” Steve says, grinning.

Eddie’s eyes widen. “How? That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“Well I got it!” Steve then turns to Tommy, who’s chatting idly with Carol. “Tommy, what kind of shoes are these?”

“Uh…” Tommy is caught incredibly off-guard by the question. He looks down at Steve’s feet, deeply confused as to where this is going. “Black… ones?”

“See?” Steve asks as he looks back at Eddie.

Again, Eddie trusts Steve without hesitation. Not without question though; he has so many. He parts his lips, with raised eyebrows–

“What are you talking about?” Brenner cuts in, drawn to the conversation by Steve’s volume.

“He’s gay.” Steve says bluntly. “There’s no way he’s Brooke’s lover.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Um… okay…?” Eddie says slowly, unsure of how that fits into all this.

“Look, the guy is an Alpha, but he called out my shoes. My shoes . Said they were last year’s Prada. No straight Alpha knows shoes.”

Another beat.

Behind him, Carol snorts. “Woow…”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow. Steve can see the gears turning in the Alpha’s mind. 

“That’s so stereotypical,” Carol continues with a condescending tone. “You’re really going with that angle? It’s 202–”

From the edge of the group, Robin pipes up. “I believe him.”

“I caught him listening to Chappell Roan once.” Brooke adds.

“So we know he perjured himself, but we can’t prove it… If you’re wrong, not only do we look desperate, we look homophobic,” Brenner says.

Steve swallows. He has to fight to hold back a snort. Clearly he doesn’t know of Steve and Tommy’s history.

“I-I mean, I don’t know how strong of a plan it is to out someone… but I think he’s right,” Robin says, thank god. 

Steve can’t help but give her a relieved, thankful smile. The Beta returns it awkwardly, but endearingly. She’s really coming in clutch for him right now. It feels good to know that she’s standing up for him.

Eddie sighs, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. “I… I can see it.”

He glances back at Enrique, who is standing by the door talking to someone from the audience. Steve’s relief deepens. Eddie’s on his side too. 

“What? Just because he knows some shoes?” Tommy spits out. “I’m–”

Carol catches what Tommy’s about to say, and shuts him up with a slap to the shoulder. She’s scowling heavily as Tommy hisses and glares at her.

“How could you possibly prove that?” Brenner asks.

The age gap between Brenner and his interns has never been more obvious. How does saying just trust us, it’s his whole vibe work as a logical conclusion? 

“It’s…” Eddie tries, waving his hand vaguely. “It’s his whole…”

“It’s his outfit, his attitude, the way he looks at others.” Steve picks up the slack. 

The team looks at Enrique as a unit. The Alpha has stepped closer to the audience member he’s talking with. The audience member is a man. The step is a liiiiittle too close. And even from this distance, Steve knows exactly what the expression is. Lustful, with a predatory tone so thinly veiled. Steve's been on the receiving end of it far too many times. 

“Look at how he's staring at him. There's no way he's straight,” Steve says, softer than before.

“Okay, but if he had that same look, he could just be bi.” Carol chimes in, actually contributing to the conversation. A rare occurrence.

“Trust me on this.” Steve says. His eyes flick up to Eddie’s. 

The Alpha sees it too, now that it’s been pointed out. 

Across the room, Enrique is still talking to that man. He’s obvious enough that they don’t even need to hear what he’s saying– he is absolutely flirting with that audience member. And the other guy seems just as into it. Their matching expressions hint at there possibly being more history between them than this one instance of simple flirting.

Dr. Brenner sighs, causing the four interns’ eyes to shift back to Brenner. He is not hiding his disappointment in any capacity. 

“While I appreciate your… masterful legal theory, we have a murder trial to attend to,” he says, pointedly enough that he doesn’t even need to look at Steve. 

Steve bites his bottom lip, looking back at Eddie. The Alpha’s got his bottom lip between his teeth as well, eyes still on Salvatore. A beat passes, then he meets Steve’s eyes. 

“I’ll… I’ll see what I can do.” Eddie says, soft and sincere.

“Thank you.” Steve whispers, but it’s barely heard over the chatter in the courtroom. Eddie still catches it. One corner of his mouth moves in a barely-there smile. But it’s enough.

 

When they reconvene, Dr. Brenner takes charge in the questioning. He stands tall, confident, and slightly menacingly. It doesn’t faze Salvatore though, who is once again sprawled in the witness box.

“Mr. Salvatore,” Dr. Brenner begins, “do you have any proof that you and Mrs. Wyndham were having an affair?”

“Only the love in my heart,” Salvatore replies smoothly. 

Brenner nods slowly, considering his statement. Then, he chuckles once and turns to the judge. 

“Well, if that is all the proof he has, then I think I’m done here, Your Honor.”

The Judge, a stern-faced Beta woman, seems vaguely amused as she nods. Her lips part, ready to dismiss Salvatore, but Eddie stands up before she can.

“I’d like to ask a couple of questions, Your Honor.” 

She doesn’t hesitate to nod. Eddie takes a breath, then rounds the prosecution table. He stands tall as he walks, but Steve spots a slight tremor in his hands. In any other situation, the Alpha would shove his hands in his pockets to mask his nerves. He doesn’t today, forcing himself to keep his chin up as he passes by Brenner.

Again, Steve is so deeply proud of him. 

Brenner’s brows are in a stern line as Eddie passes. 

“Just give me a few minutes,” Eddie murmurs. Brenner lets him go without a word, sitting back down. 

Salvatore watches this interaction with a blasé attitude. His once-over of Eddie is subtle, but Steve still spots it. Steve’s been called oblivious for his whole life, but everyone underestimates just how perceptive Steve is of people. Salvatore is sizing Eddie up, Alpha-to-Alpha, judging if he can take Eddie.

(In Steve’s honest opinion, he thinks Eddie would win. Not because he’s biased towards Eddie, which he absolutely knows that he is, but because Salvatore looks like he’d do anything to avoid dirtying his hands with fighting.)

“Did you ever take Mrs. Wyndham on a date?” Eddie starts. 

“Yes.” Salvatore answers.

“Where?”

“A restaurant in Concord where no one could recognize us,” Salvatore says.

“When?” 

“A few months ago. Sometime in December, but I couldn’t tell you the date.” Salvatore speaks with confidence. There’s no real outward indication that he’s lying.

“And how did you pay for this date?” Eddie asks. 

Salvatore’s eyebrows furrow, wondering where the train of questioning is going. “My card…?”

“Right,” Eddie nods once. “Just confirming, if we need to pull your credit card records for confirmation.”

There’s a minute shift in Salvatore’s attitude. He still stays relaxed in the chair, but there’s a subtle tension to his shoulders. 

“Then, how long have you been sleeping with Mrs. Wyndham?” Eddie continues. The pacing of his responses are quick, no room for hesitation or doubt that he’s anything less than confident. 

“Four months,” Salvatore replies.

“And your boyfriend’s name is…?” 

“Chuck.”

Eddie breaks into a grin. “Right.”

Salvatore’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates. He sits up sharply, the beginnings of several words getting caught in his throat.

Whispers and gasps ripple through the courtroom. The judge bangs her gavel, demanding silence. But the audience members can’t contain their shock as they look around at each other. Brooke is absolutely beaming from the end of the defendant’s table.

Eddie swivels on the ball of his foot, flashing a toothy grin at Steve.

It fucking worked. 

Oh my god it WORKED! 

“Wait– wait–” Salvatore stutters. 

Eddie turns back. “Yes, Mr. Salvatore?”

“I-I was confused,” Salvatore starts. His demeanor is a complete one-eighty. He’s leant right up to the microphone, panic-stricken. “I thought you said friend. Chuck is a friend .”

“Oh, okay–” Eddie nods.

From the back of the room, there’s a sudden clamor. 

They all turn just as the man Salvatore was flirting with earlier rockets out of his seat. He’s gathering his belongings in a huff, his Omega scent bitter and crackling in anger. 

“Chuck–! Chuck wait–!” Salvatore calls. He starts to stand, to chase after him.

The judge cuts in, “order! Order! Sit down Mr. Salvatore!”

Salvatore falls back into his seat like a puppet with his strings cut. He watches, mournfully, as his lover storms out of the courtroom.

Normally, Steve would feel pretty bad about this, but this was the win they desperately needed. One of the defense’s star witnesses caught in perjury? Blatant perjury? It’s exactly what they needed!

The judge continues to call for order as Eddie comes back to the prosecution table. The first person he makes eye contact with is Steve.

“Thanks,” Eddie says with a warm smile. 

“Thank you,” Steve replies sincerely. 

And Steve can’t help but think, is this why people study law? Because he feels kind of high. Like, woah! This is a rush! This sense of victory, this sense of accomplishment. Yeah, the battle’s won but the war isn’t over, but it’s a damn important battle!

If this is what this feels like, Steve regrets not getting into this sooner! Could he have been chasing this this entire time?! 

A few minutes later, the judge calls it for the day. The audience is too riled up, and the revelation of Salvatore’s lies leave the prosecution scrambling. And, it just so happens to be Friday, so they’ll be reconvening early Monday morning. The two days off feel like a reward. 

But, before they break for the weekend, Brenner has the team meet at the office. Court was dismissed in the early afternoon, so they spend the remainder of the afternoon coming up with a new game-plan. Salvatore’s lies look great for them, but it doesn’t solve all of their problems. 

After Salvatore, Brooke’s daughter-in-law Chutney was to be called to the stand. Originally, they were just going to ask about her relationship with Brooke and how Chutney found Brooke over her father’s body. But, if the story was that she and Salvatore found the body, and Salvatore was lying about an affair… then it makes the team more suspicious that Chutney has something to hide too. 

However, they can’t just come out swinging with that. If they go for something like that without evidence, then they look desperate to discredit Chutney too. It’s a very fine line to walk. And that’s even if Chutney has something to hide to begin with.

It’s just something that they’ll have to play by-ear when the defense gets to her first come Monday morning. 

 

💛—🩷—🩷—💛

 

They don’t end their day without celebration of course. Steve doesn’t know if Brenner had a bottle of champagne just lying around or bought some, but either way, the cork is popped and flutes are being filled. 

“To Eddie,” Dr. Brenner cuts through their idle conversation, raising his glass. “For decisively turning the case around.”

The team lift their glasses.

Steve waits until just the right moment, right as Eddie is taking the first sip–

“And for nailing the pool-boy,” he jokes.

Eddie chokes on his drink, barely managing to keep it from spraying out his mouth. Then, he breaks into a boisterous mix of coughing and laughing. Steve matches his laughter easily. The rest laugh too; even Dr. Brenner chuckles.

Once Eddie’s laughter tapers off, he raises his glass once again. His eyes are nowhere else but Steve’s own. “Really, it was Steve. I just stood up for him.”

Their shared gaze is warm.

Steve never wants to look away. 

“For both of them, then,” Robin says. “Eddie and Steve.”

Glasses are tipped in their honor. Their look isn’t broken as both take a sip from their own glasses. 

What does break it is a snide comment from none other than Tommy.

“Okay, but when did a finely tuned gaydar count as legal victory?” The Alpha snorts.

Steve swears, if he wasn’t standing in front of Tommy as literal proof of his bisexuality, the Alpha would reek of toxic heterosexuality. Good god. The sheer lack of emotional intelligence is astounding .

Dr. Brenner nods slowly. 

“I… never thought I would be saying this. But, without that… gaydar,” he says with slow emphasis, disgusted by the word, “we wouldn’t be here, celebrating. We would be dead in the water otherwise.”

Brenner steps forward, in front of Steve.

“I am impressed by you. Steve Harrington, you trusted your gut, and showed more legal smarts today alone than some of my staff in their entire careers,” Brenner says. Honesty is heavy in his voice. He is truly impressed by Steve. “You won this round, making you a good lawyer. And… while we would still love to hear the alibi, you refused. By keeping it, you never compromised the client’s trust, as well as showing the initiative to go get it in the first place. It makes you a great lawyer.”

Steve doesn’t question Brenner’s change in tune. It doesn’t really matter anymore that Brenner pushed him all those weeks ago for Brooke’s alibi.

What matters is now. Now, Brenner is impressed by him. Sees value in him. Doesn’t look down his nose at the student who he kicked out on the first day of class. He sees how hard Steve has worked, and how much potential he still has. 

The swell of emotion is almost too much.

“Thank you,” Steve says, voice wavering ever so slightly. He takes a sip, using the action to blink rapidly to dispel any growing tears. 

Dr. Brenner takes a sip as well, nodding once before turning away to chat with one of his staff. 

Eddie takes his place quickly though. 

“I’m so proud of you,” the Alpha says. “Holy shit!”

Steve chuckles. “I’m just shocked it actually worked.”

“Of course it’d work.” Eddie says, confident and determined. 

Steve chuckles, shaking his head a little. 

“No, seriously.” From a few feet to his left, Robin pipes up. “That was amazing. Felt like a soap opera.”

Steve snorts. “It did, didn’t it?” 

“It so did. When that guy stood up and stormed out? I could just picture the dramatic camera zoom!” Robin starts to laugh. 

“Oh, and the musical sting too–” Eddie joins in on the joke with a megawatt grin. 

Robin’s quick to jump in with a few out-of-tune hummed notes, making Eddie laugh.

Steve watches the two go off on this joke, content with not contributing. Eddie looks relaxed, suit jacket taken off and sleeves rolled-up twice. Robin looks at ease too. She had been nervous this whole week at court; she had said something offhandedly about it to Steve early Wednesday morning. 

Since their gossip-sesh a few months back, where Steve had unloaded his history with Tommy, the two have really started to become friends. When they pass each other in the dorm halls, they gossip about whatever idiotic thing Tommy or Carol had said that day either in class or at the internship. Another time, Robin had been taken out by a nasty cold and asked for Steve’s class-notes and a quick recap of what she missed. They’re not on the hang-out-outside-of-mutual-obligations level, but Steve thinks they could get there soon.

But Dr. Brenner was right. This is a victory.

 

The glasses have drained and the empty bottle has been thrown away. Robin takes her leave first, citing the desperate need for a goodnight’s sleep. That spurs the rest into packing it up for the night. Tommy steps out to use the restroom, and Carol leaves too to wait outside. 

“Oh, Harrington, can I speak to you for a minute?” Dr. Brenner asks as Steve is picking up his coat from where it was discarded across the back of a desk chair. 

Steve glances over at Eddie, who’s about to step out into the hall.

“I’ll wait outside for you, okay?” Eddie asks. 

He had been Steve’s ride to court, and subsequently the office. Steve nods, shooting the Alpha a thumbs-up. Eddie steps out, and shuts the door behind him.

It leaves just Steve and Dr. Brenner in the office. 

“Thank you, Dr. Brenner.” Steve says. He cracks a smile. “What you said earlier… it meant a lot.”

One corner of Brenner’s mouth twitches up in a smile. 

“Well, you deserved it.” Brenner says. He takes a few steps forward, stopping in front of Steve.

“Seriously. Thank you. Not just for that, but for all of this.” Steve continues. “I have learned so much from you.”

“It wasn’t too long ago that I was kicking you out of class,” Brenner remarks. The amused lilt of his lips make the statement light and joking.

Steve chuckles. “That was only once.”

“Indeed,” Brenner chuckles as well. “But what you learned wasn’t the point. You have instincts. Those cannot be taught, legal or otherwise. So trust your instincts.”

Steve nods. 

A beat passes. 

Steve readies to respond, but suddenly–

a hand snatching his jaw

lips pressed to his

an alpha’s scent filling his senses

 

He slaps Dr. Brenner.

The ring of it echoes.

 

The silence that follows is deafening.

 

Dr. Brenner looks… impressed.

Steve feels horrified. 

 

Violated.

 

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Brenner states.

Doesn’t say. States . A solid, unwavering, factual statement. 

Steve feels like the world is falling out from underneath his feet.

“Is… is this the only reason you gave me…?” Steve’s vocal cords barely work. He can’t even get the whole sentence out.

Dr. Brenner chuckles darkly.

“It was nice working with you, Mr. Harrington. You can show yourself out.”

 

 

Steve does not hesitate.

 

Notes:

🫣🫣🫣
you guys can't be mad at me fully, it's from the source material. but.... this sets up the absolute powerhouse that is chapter 11 :D

I hope to see yall before October is out, honestly. I've been in North Carolina for just over two weeks now and so far, I love it! I love my new job, my living situation is far better, and I like the area way more. I'm still settling in, and even flying home to my parents' house on Oct. 13th to pack up more of my stuff to bring back to NC. But so far, I'm happier so hopefully that helps me write faster lol plus, I'm batting around ideas for my next writing project too, which I'm so excited about !!!!

Anyway, see yall next time 😘😘😘 (or on my twitter) thank you guys so much for your patience as I slowly chip away at this fic <3<3