Archive of Our Own ^beta

Steven was a firecracker. He was harsh and he was angry and then suddenly his fire ran put and he was soft and sad and he was crooning softly like an old-time singer. In his own way, Steven was sorry. He always said sorry, in that voice of his that said that he couldn't do no wrong, no sir, he just got carried away sometimes, that's all. 

If Joe didn't forgive him immediately, then Steven would pout like a kid and cross his arms and would start to cry and that was just unfair, it really was. There was something about Steven that just scresmed wounded and vulnerable and when he cried it was like the whole world was falling apart. 

So, useless against the fight, Joe would forgive him and Steven would kiss him and hold him so tightly against the terrible word and then, that night, he would snort some cocaine and then Joe would wake up in the middle of the night to an angry screaming noise and Steven would grab Joe and pull him out of bed. 

Joe would yelp, startled and scared, and then Steven would be yelling about some nonsense things and he would start hitting Joe with his open palm or closed fist and it would hurt, hurt hurt so bad!, but nothing ever changed. 

Nothing ever changed, because it was just their routine, and Steven would wake up in the morning and he would see Joe's bruises and he would cry and say that he was sorry but he never really was. 

Joe would forgive him, as he always did.