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“So, what's the plan?”
Steve looks up from the ale he's been sipping for the past hour or so to find Robin walking into the tavern. As she slides onto the barstool next to his, her eyes flick from his face to the colorful bouquet of spring flowers sitting next to his glass.
“Are you actually going to go out there and give them to him? Or are you gonna let them wilt again?”
“Shut up,” Steve grumbles. He knows she won't, and she knows he knows it, but she also knows it's not really her he's annoyed with. “I'm getting to it. I'm having a drink before I go, that's all.”
She gives him a look.
“Dingus,” she says. “For the past week and a half, you've picked a fresh bouquet every day, and then you keep finding excuses as to why you can't go and give it to him. Your rooms are starting to look like a flower shop and I think Mrs Henderson's sheep and Hopper’s horse have been conspiring to murder you for stealing their food. And quite frankly, if I need to keep watching the two of you dance around each other for a little longer, I might join them.”
Steve chews on his bottom lip while she snatches his glass and drains it in three long gulps.
“This is fucking embarrassing, huh?” he mutters. “I'm a damn paladin for heaven's sake. I've slain monsters and fought dark wizards and saved the realm from darkness, and here I am, unable to bring myself to tell that stupid, pretty, loud-mouthed bard I lo- … ugh.”
He trails off, propping his elbows up on the bar and hiding his head in his hands.
“I can't even say it in here. I'm so pathetic.”
A hand grabs his right wrist, gently prying his hand from his face.
“There's nothing pathetic about being scared.” Her finger traces the outline of the bird-shaped mark on his wrist, and instantly, he can feel himself growing more calm. “For the record, though, I don't think that you have any reason to be. He's as gone for you as you are for him.”
Steve scoffs weakly. “Yeah, I doubt that. I'm not even his soulmate, so-”
“You don't know that,” she says. “It's not unheard of for people to have two, or more even. It's entirely possible that you are and your marks just haven't manifested yet.”
Steve gives her a look. “We've fought side by side. He saved my life on at least three different occasions, and I his. I think we'd know by now if- hey, what the hell?”
“Not all soul bonds are forged in the fires of battle like ours.” She lowers the hand she just flicked his forehead with, picking up the bouquet and pressing it into his hands. “Sometimes, they need time to bloom. Now go to him.”
*
He doesn't need to search long. The melody floating over the hill behind the tavern tells him exactly where he needs to go.
Eddie is sitting cross-legged in the crisp spring grass, plucking away on his lute and singing softly in his mother's tongue. His hair is down, dark curls moving softly in the warm breeze, revealing the tips of his pointed ears every now and then. Steve stands transfixed and watches him, thinking back on how closed-off and guarded Eddie was when they first met. How he used to hide his ears under cowls and hats, always scared to reveal his heritage. How far they've come since then. It makes a familiar, fuzzy warmth spread behind his collarbone.
And that's when Eddie looks up and sees him standing on top of the hill.
“Well, look who it is,” he greets, face splitting into that wide, toothy grin that makes Steve’s hand clench tighter around the bouquet and sends his stomach into weird little somersaults. “Haven’t seen you around in days. What earns me the pleasure of your presence?”
“Yeah, sorry about that,” Steve grumbles, forcing his wobbly legs to walk closer. “I’ve been busy.”
“Busy, he says.” Eddie rolls his pretty eyes, putting the lute aside and gesturing for Steve to join him in the grass. His voice still has the soft, melodic lilt to it that’s always more pronounced when he’s just switched out of the elven language. Steve thinks he could listen to it for hours and not get tired of it. “The sun is bright and warm in the sky, the birds are singing, and spring is in the air, but his Lordship is busy. Why must you humans always be so dreadfully serious?”
Steve rolls his eyes, plopping down into the pleasantly cool grass. “Well, we can’t all laze around and make music all day. Someone has to make sure the place is running smoothly. And besides, you’re half human as well.”
“And on days as beautiful as this, I like to not think of it,” Eddie winks. “But thank you for reminding me.”
They sit in silence for a while, the sounds of the village wafting all around them. Eddie is right, Steve thinks. It is a beautiful day. The last chill of winter is fully and truly gone, and the air smells of life and new beginnings. The kind of day he hoped to see again, back in the dark days when all seemed lost and it looked like all of their fighting had been in vain.
“It was nice, by the way,” he finally says. Eddie stirs, gaze shifting from the rolling clouds in the bright blue sky to his face. “The song.”
“Nice, huh?” Eddie huffs softly. “What high praise coming from you.”
“I’m making you a compliment here, you dickhead,” Steve groans, secretly thinking how the song wasn’t just nice, but beautiful. Beautiful as the day all around them and beautiful as the singer. “Take it or leave it.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, loud and unrestrained. It makes the dimples at the corner of his mouth appear, the ones that Steve wants to trace with his fingers. When he calms down, there’s a faint pink blush blooming on the bridge of his nose.
“Thank you. I’ve been working on it for a while.”
Steve perks up. “Huh? You wrote it yourself? What’s it about?”
“It’s, um- …” Eddie hesitates, suddenly absurdly interested in plucking at the young blades of grass. “It’s about love. How allowing yourself to be loved is the scariest thing, because it means giving yourself to the other person fully, without hiding anything or holding anything back. But how it’s also unavoidable, if you find the person your heart longs for.”
“That’s-” Steve says. Swallows. Wets his lips with his tongue before he tries again. “That sounds wonderful. You’ll need to translate it for me some time.”
Eddie’s eyes flick up, locking on his, and he feels himself blush - a hot, tingling heat that creeps out from under his collar and all the way up to his cheeks.
“I mean … only if you want to, of course. I’d never-”
“I’d love that,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll translate all the words in the song for you, a hundred times over if you want me to. Under one condition.”
“Huh?” Steve says, feeling his blush darken as he watches that smile grow more coy. “What condition?”
“I want you to finally grow a pair and hand over those flowers.”
Steve sputters. Eddie laughs and pats him on the back as he tries to catch his breath.
“Damn,” Steve murmurs, once he’s regained the ability to speak. His face must be shining like a beacon by now. “”Was I that obvious?”
“Subtlety has never been your strength, big boy,” Eddie laments. “You’ve been moping around like a lovesick idiot for weeks. The entire village must’ve caught on by now. So, as your friend, I must insist you spare all of us further embarrassment and just confess your love to whatever fair maiden has caught your eye. I promise there’s nothing to be afraid of, she’d be a fool to- … what?”
Steve has whipped up his head and is gawking at him, eyes huge and incredulous.
“Maiden?” he croaks. Eddie scrunches his nose in confusion. It makes his entire face crinkle adorably, and Steve can feel a treacherous bout of laughter tingling in the warm, fluttery space behind his collarbone. “What maiden? There’s no maiden, you idiot.”
“A strapping young lad then.” Eddie waves a hand in the air between them. He’s trying to go for nonchalant, but there’s a distinctly annoyed undercurrent to his voice. “This isn’t the time to get hung up on technicalities, Stevie. I’m trying to tell you something important here. If you want to be with that person, you need to overcome your fears and take matters into your own hands, because nobody is gonna do it for you.”
“Yeah,” Steve says. “Apparently not.”
And then he kisses him.
He might not be Eddie’s soulmate, but he won’t sit by and listen to him hark this nonsense about Steve running off with someone else. Not when Eddie’s laugh and Eddie’s voice and Eddie’s eyes have been all he’s been thinking of for months.
Eddie makes a confused sound against his lips, arms flailing in surprise, and for a second or two, Steve is convinced he’s gonna push him back and demand to know what the hell he is doing. Then, he melts into Steve’s touch. His lips part ever so slightly, a shuddery sigh tickling Steve’s face, and his hands come to rest on Steve’s arms - lightly, hesitantly, like he isn’t sure this is really happening. Like he cannot believe he’s allowed to have this. It’s all the encouragement Steve needs to deepen the kiss.
Eddie’s lips are every bit as soft as they look, the little noises he makes even sweeter than he imagined in his wildest dreams, and immediately, he finds himself wondering why he didn’t do this a lot sooner. By the time they pull apart, one of his hands has found its way to Eddie’s face, gently cupping his cheek, fingers slipping into his dark curls.
Eddie stares at him, lips pink and slightly parted, eyes round and large with surprise, and this time, Steve can’t contain the fond laugh that bubbles from his throat.
“It’s you, you moron,” he says, because he has a feeling that Eddie needs it spelled out for him in order to believe it. “It has always been you. Since the day we met, I think.”
“But-” Eddie stutters. Trails off. His lips move silently, even though no words come out and Steve thinks with a victorious little swoop of his stomach that he has finally found a way to render him speechless. “But why?”
“Because,” says Steve, tracing the shell of one pointed ear with his finger. “You are kind and brave and funny and strong and one of the most amazing persons I’ve ever met and I’ve been trying to tell you this for weeks.”
He notices a little belatedly that his right hand is still clutching the bouquet of flowers, and with a sheepish little smile, he nudges them in Eddie’s direction.
“These are for you, by the way. Will you accept them?”
“I will,” Eddie’s hands are warm as they close around his, that smile still soft and brimming with hesitant joy. “And, um … I also wouldn’t say no to another kiss?”
Steve is only too happy to indulge him.
This time, Eddie is more bold, not leaving him the lead but deepening the kiss on his own accord, tongue poking out to tease lightly at Steve’s lips. Steve sighs and grants him access-
-and that’s when it happens.
It starts as a barely-there tickle in his left wrist, and at first, he thinks that it's Eddie’s hair tickling his skin. It's only when the feeling intensifies, spreading into his arm and all the way up to his shoulder and chest as a fuzzy, tingling warmth that he realizes it’s something else. He gasps and pulls back, heart kickstarting in his ribcage, head spinning with surprised exhilaration, because he recognizes this sensation. He has felt it before.
“Stevie?” Eddie asks, voice shaky with confusion, and Steve knows he can feel it, too. “What’s going- what is that?”
He is staring at something on Steve’s wrist, eyes huge and watery. Steve doesn’t need to look to know it will be there, but he does anyway. He wants to know what it looks like.
It’s two music notes, delicate and entwined like dancers, in the exact same spot as Robin’s mark on his other wrist. They’re still pale, only just having appeared, but darkening even as he watches.
“But how-” Eddie whispers, reaching out shaking fingers to trace the mark. “There’s no way- … What does that mean?”
Steve’s face is hurting from the force of his own grin.
“It means,” he says, gently disentangling one of Eddie’s hands from the bouquet so that he can lift it between them and reveal the sword and shield blooming on Eddie’s wrist. “That I was an idiot. And also that we’re soulmates.”
He ducks his head to brush his lips against the mark, and the touch is like electricity crackling through his veins, is like the heady rush of a good wine in his blood. Eddie laughs, a shaky and surprised thing, and Steve knows he feels it, too.
“Robin is gonna be insufferable about it,” Steve mutters. “She’s been bugging me to finally confess to you for forever, can you imagine her smug face when she sees these?”
Eddie frowns down at the marks. When he looks up at Steve, his dark eyes are glinting.
“I dunno, they still look a bit pale to me. Maybe we should wait for them to come in properly before we tell her. If only there was something we could do to speed up the process …”
Turns out Robin was right, Steve thinks as they tumble down into the soft grass together, exchanging whispered confessions of love between more laughter and kisses.
Sometimes, love needs time to bloom.