Fics like an inch away from more than just friends

They fall silent as they look out over the skyline. Behind them, the party is still in full swing—the beat of the music rattles the window frame, and Steve wonders at what point the downstairs neighbors will come up and complain. The night is cold, but Eddie is very warm beside him. He can feel the heat of Eddie’s thigh from where it’s pressed against Steve’s, two layers of denim doing nothing to temper the warmth coming off Eddie’s body. When Steve looks over, Eddie’s eyes are half-lidded, and the pale pink-and-white lines of his old scars peek out from where the sides of his tank top are cut low. Steve fights the urge to slip his hands under Eddie’s shirt and see if his skin is warm there, too. Maybe it’s the alcohol making Steve sentimental, or maybe it’s just the sight of Eddie’s profile silhouetted against the Manhattan skyline, but Steve is feeling particularly maudlin tonight. “D’you ever think about how crazy it is that we’re here?” he asks. Eddie glances over at Steve. He stubs out the cigarette on the metal railing and lets the butt fall to the courtyard below. “What do you mean?” (A short and sweet oneshot inspired by "Naked in Manhattan" by Chappell Roan.)

Fics like an inch away from more than just friends

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