Archive of Our Own

Summary:

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I’m sorry, I know this doesn’t make any sense to you, but can I just–”
Eddie lets him approach, this time. Lets him curl his fingers in the hem of Eddie’s shirt.
“Sorry, I know I probably sound crazy, I just––” he pulls it up, stares at Eddie’s side, and then lets out a hysterical little noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a sob.
“You’re ok,” Steve says.
His fingers are hot on Eddie’s skin, pressed light and shockingly reverent to the space between his hip and rib cage.
“You’re ok,” he repeats. It sounds like he’s trying to convince himself.
“Hey,” Eddie says. It comes out more breathless than he’d prefer but Steve fucking Harrington has him backed against a wall in a bathroom with his hands up Eddie’s shirt so he thinks a little lack of air is warranted. “Are you ok?”
The fingers on his abdomen flex. "No,” Steve says. His eyes are wide and fathomless and the look on his face is terrible. “No, I’m not even remotely ok.”

Podfic of The Last In Line by xiaq.