Fics like Soda Burn

“Hey newbie. Ever worked in a bar before?” the guy asks with an easy smile. Steve snaps his eyes up to meet his, and shit they’re pretty. The greeting would be charming from anyone else, perhaps even from the guy himself if he’d not overheard the exchange moments before, but Steve’s insides curl at the condescension. “Yeah. For about five years. Thanks. And my name’s Steve,” he responds, voice clipped. He yanks at the ties of his apron, knotting the bow just a little tighter than is comfortable. He’ll have to adjust it later, but the man’s dark eyes are roaming over him like he’s something edible, and there’s no way Steve’s going to give any indication whatsoever that he’s prey. “Nice to meet you, Steve. I’m Eddie.” Steve can’t prevent the way his face scrunches in confusion, because surely not. There’s no way that this is the Eddie. Sure, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes, but from the little Steve’s experienced of him so far, he seems like a major ass. The way Bridget had hyped him up, anyone would think fucking Jon Bon Jovi worked here. OR when the upmarket cocktail bar Steve's working at goes out of business, he finds himself in desperate need of a job.

Fics like Soda Burn

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