Soft (Steddie + Platonic Stobin)
Hey Steve?”
“Mmm?”
“Can I say something? And can you promise not to get mad at me?”
Steve looks over at her curiously. He can hardly imagine what she could say that would really upset him, or why she’d feel the need to preface anything she had on her mind with a question like that. Usually, she’s all gung-ho about pissing him off—it’s just how they are, constantly bickering like an old married couple. Steve really doesn’t blame anyone for thinking they’re together—they sure act like it, in a roundabout sort of way.
“Sure.”
“Say you promise.” Steve rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, Rob, I’m not gonna—”
“Say you promise.”
That actually slightly unnerves him. He keeps his eyebrows raised, but relents.
“Alright, I promise.” She shifts in her seat, glances up at Eddie and the kids on stage, all chattering about something he doesn’t understand—attack rolls? Natural 20s? Owlbears?
“He makes you soft,” she says. Steve follows her gaze.
Oh. She noticed.
Steve tends to be oblivious, but he had noticed this, mostly because it was so… new. Irregular. Confusing. Around Eddie he just… softens. That’s about the best way to describe it—he’s glad Robin said so, because now he can put a name to the feeling. His brain seems to stop its mile-a-minute, mamma-bear rampage and just… quiet. He can’t put a finger on why—well he can, but it’s… a lot. He’s spent many a night staring up at the ceiling, trying to discern whether he really is romantically attracted to Eddie, or if he’s projecting. Maybe he’s been alone so long he just can’t tell anymore. Maybe his and Nancy’s little dance around each other is just confusing to the point of insanity.
But Robin noticed. And they should talk.
“Can we move back a few rows?”
“Sure.”
They stand and none of the kids nor Eddie take notice. Their voices are getting progressively louder, and Ed is perched in his chair like he could spring up on to the table at any moment, hands motioning excitedly in all sorts of ways. He talks with his hands, just like Nance and Robin.
“Are you mad?”
“No,” Steve says as they take seats in the mid-section, a little farther towards the back of the auditorium. He settles in, both to the seat and his own uncomfortability, not sure how to start the things he needs to say. He has questions, answers, concerns—but where to begin?
The beginning, probably.
“Do you remember that night the three of us were hanging and then Vickie came and picked you up and I told you I left right after?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t.”
He looks over to make eye-contact with her, and finds just Rob, gazing at him. A little curiosity, a little surprise at his blatant lie—but he hadn’t known how to talk to her about it. Or how to explain himself. He had thought it easier just to hide that he and Eddie could ever get along without her, because she felt like an essential intermediary. A reason that it isn’t what it actually is.
He can’t really explain himself. He doesn’t really get why he lied, either.
“Liar,” Rob accuses, but there’s no bite.
“I stayed,” Steve confirms, breaking their shared gaze to look back out toward Ed. He’s got this feeling in his guts like he’s about to get into trouble, like he’s broken one of his mom’s nice antiques and is about to lose his swimming pool privileges—
“We talked for the entire night. Until six in the morning. And then I went home, and I wanted to call him. And I… I’ve been having these thoughts like maybe I like him? And I don’t get it because—” Robin takes his hand “—I like girls, you know? I know I do, you know I do—”
“Can I interrupt? Just a two second thought.” Steve nods, “Some people like boys and girls, it’s called being bisexual. I just want you to have that in mind for the rest of this conversation.” Steve blinks at her. Nods slowly.
Maybe he should’ve gone to her sooner.
Not maybe. Definitely.
“Okay… right. So… I’m fucking stupid,” Steve breathes. Robin shakes her head vigorously, adding a second hand to the mix.
“No no no,” she insists quickly, “But I want you to—“
“No, I like him,” Steve realizes, a million—maybe a billion—thoughts and feelings invading him all at once. Fear, uncertainty, excitement, relief, anxiety—he can’t even latch on to one of those. He doesn't know how to feel or think or anything except for this stark, pervasive understanding— “Holy shit, Robin.”
“Steve, you’re getting ahead of yourself—”
“No, I’m not,” Steve shakes his head, kind of probably in shock, “No, I… I’ve been trying to figure this out for weeks. I should’ve just… Oh my god.”
He puts his free hand over his face, absolutely mortified. Not about liking Eddie, of course, but because he had stupidly never considered that liking girls didn’t automatically make him unable to like guys.
Jesus, he's an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” Robin says, and for what, Steve has no idea. She’s just fixed his whole problem—or at least, half the problem. Now he has a crush he has to deal with, and of course Nancy, but at least— “It’s not a bad thing, though. I know it’s a lot to deal with and if you need anything I’m here. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Rob, I’m fine,” Steve assures her, “Other than having a fucking pathetic crush on Eddie.”
Silence.
“So… you’re good with liking guys?” Steve looks up at her, sighing again for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation.
“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s just I totally could’ve been doing something about it if I had just asked you sooner.”
Robin stares at him.
He stares back.
What, is he supposed to have some sort of breakdown? He’s had all sorts of thoughts about Billy and Tommy and Harrison Ford—of course he likes guys. Of course that’s not a “straight person” thing, he’s not stupid. But if he’d just applied a tiny bit of critical thinking—
“Are you serious right now?”
“Of course I’m serious,” Steve scoffs, “I could’ve already had, like, eight boyfriends if I had just thought about it. But I’m a fucking meathead.”
The unintentional hilarity of that statement doesn’t miss either of them, but now’s probably not the time.
She stares.
He stares back.
“You astound me, Harrington.”
“Do you think Eddie likes guys?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m—seriously, do you think he likes dudes?”
“I hate that you just said dudes.”
“Robin.”
“How many times has he suggested we watch Rocky Horror?”
“Enough for us to shorten the name.”
“There’s your answer,” she says, still sounding flabbergasted at his nonchalance, “Man, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I cried for forty-eight hours after I realized I liked girls.”
“Do you want me to cry?”
Robin grimaces, “You’re right, I don’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She shakes her head, clearly done with him. It’s uniquely comforting how quickly she can go from a supportive shoulder to a hateful best-friend. He admires that about her, the many facets of her personality that make her, her. He truly doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He wishes they had talked in high school, that he could’ve been someone else in those days, especially seeing where being the “coolest guy in town” has really gotten him.
Nowhere, that’s where.
“I love you,” he says. She’s still holding his hand, and she stays holding it.
“I love you, too.”
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something i feel like we don’t talk about nearly enough is the fact that percy is healed by water.
it’s so normal to us because it’s one of the first abilities we discovered he has. and it makes complete sense. but like… he’s the only demigod with that ability. jason doesn’t get healed by a gust of wind. hazel doesn’t get healed if she touches a diamond. nico doesn’t get healed if a skeleton gives him a hug. annabeth doesn’t get healed if she walks into a library.
like percy could be stabbed in the chest multiple times, he could break every bone in his body, he could be slammed in the head resulting in a crushed skull and hemorrhaging, but get him to some water fast enough and not only is he good as new in no time, but he’s stronger and freshly rejuvenated.
it’s insane when you think about it. no one else can do that. do you know how hard it is to kill percy? even if he’s not near the ocean, he can be healed by rivers and lakes and streams and ponds and all sorts of water sources. water recharges him. it makes him immediately stronger.
that’s a huge reason why i argue percy is the most powerful demigod. yes, he’s shown he has incredible super strength and super speed. yes, he’s a legendary sword fighter - arguably the best one alive. yes, he has control over air, land, and sea. (deadly hurricanes with heavy winds and thunder and lighting, huge volcanic eruptions, earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, etc.) yes, he’s capable of mass destruction. yes he can single handlely cause natural disasters and mass casualties. and yes, he’s capable of controlling people’s bodily fluids, including their blood and saliva. he is terrifying
but even if someone manages to beat him, he dips one toe in some water and he’s immediately healed and even stronger than before. whether the injury is internal and external. he’s healed all on his own. no ambrosia or nectar or external remedies necessary.
guys. percy is insane. he’s way overpowered.
and i love it.
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