A Rockstars Motto (the brain on love) | Steddie

Be Better Than Your Parents

- 2 months later -

A knocking on Steve's door had him grumbling and falling out of bed. He blinked against the darkness, groaning as he pushed himself up from the floor. The knocking continued, hard and loud as Steve stumbled down the hall toward the door. He flipped on the outside light and peered through the peephole. He opened the door with a glare.

"It's ass o'clock, Mike, what the hell are you doing here?" He asked.

"I kissed Will," he was panting, his mouth open on deep, shaky breaths. His cheeks were red and tear-stained, his eyes the same. Steve straightened up, eyebrows drawing together.

"And you just had to tell me?" He questioned carefully.

"And my dad walked in," Mike's voice cracked and Steve's shoulders dropped. "And-and I thought he'd be pissed, you know? I thought he'd yell, maybe call me names, I don't fucking know, but he just walks to my closet and grabs my suitcase, and tells me to get out. And my mom," he lets out a humorless chuckle. "I thought she would be more accepting, you know? She's not a pushover, she's the voice of reason, but she just stood there. She just watched. She told me maybe it would be best if I go." There are tears falling down his cheeks in an uncontrollable stream. "They kicked me out, Steve. They kicked me out."

"Come here." Steve reached forward and grabbed Mike's shoulders, tugging him into his chest despite him being so tall now. Mike withered in his arms, clutching at Steve's shoulders as if his life depended on it as he sobbed against his shoulder. "You're okay. You'll be okay. I got you." That seemed to make him cry harder. Steve pulled him in and let go long enough to grab his suitcase from outside. "Come on, Max isn't here tonight, you can take her bed." He left the suitcase in the living room and guided Mike to the second bedroom. Mike laid down with a few sniffles, tears still tracking down his flushed cheeks.

"Steve," he whispered once he was under the covers.

"What's up?" He asked.

"I know you're not that much older than us, but you really are the best parent any of us have. Especially me and Max. There's no one else that I know, without a doubt, I can come to without fear or judgment." Steve sat on the side of the bed with a sigh.

"I'm glad I can be that for you all. You know, they say that you should be better than your parents. Mine aren't really that hard to top. They were gone a lot, and when they were around all they did was complain about shit. When I told them about Eddie they went on a rant about how we'll never be accepted, how we'll never have a family, how my future is ruined because I like men, disregarding the fact that I also like women. My point is, I know a thing or two about shitty parents, and I'd rather die than end up like them. I'll always be the person you can come to without fear or judgment." Steve patted Mike's head, ruffling his hair as he stood up. "Get some sleep okay? I love you."

"Love you," Mike mumbled into his pillow. Steve sighed, gently shutting the door before heading to his own room. He laid down again, pulling the blankets up to his chest and tucking a hand behind his head.

Mike's tearful cheeks were still on his mind. Every time he closed his eyes he saw them. It was too reminiscent of his own tearful face after he came out to his mother. He'd confided in her when he still naively thought that she would love him no matter what. He had painful, confusing thoughts about Tommy H and he'd come to her amidst a full meltdown. He'd confided in her with tears and gasping breaths, and when he was done she had wiped his tears away, brushed his hair back, and told him never to tell anyone anything like that again. She told him boys can't think about other boys that way. And she left him in the living room heartbroken and confused.