Actions

Work Header

all that glitters is gold

Chapter Text

Worth It isn't exactly the most respectable establishment. Andrew is willing to concede that. They are, afterall, a stripclub. As the marquee outfront boasts, they offer three different services at three drastically different price points. Stage dance for tips, lapdances for $30, and private rooms for $100. It’s one of their biggest selling points. That’s what Matt had told Andrew when he hired him two years ago anyway. Andrew thinks it’s probably their happy hour specials.

Situated in a better part of town, in one of the busier plazas definitely helps business, but the curtain needs replacing, the sound system sucks, and the decor hasn’t been updated since the 80’s.

Yeah, sometimes someone gets a little too handsy with one of the dancers and Andrew has to step in, but, mostly, he spends his shifts scanning the crowd from the bar and talking with Adam or Shane.

It’s an easy gig, gives him time for his classes and homework, and it pays surprisingly well. He’d like to have insurance, but at least he gets free booze. It’s not like he’s going to work here forever, so Andrew can’t complain. Other than the semi-disgusted looks some people give him when he tells them what he does for a living, Andrew likes his job. (He can’t imagine their faces if he told them all the strippers were men). Life is good.

And then Matt hires Steven.

He thought Adam was joking when he told him the new hire was a dancer. Sure, he may have recognized that Steven was attractive, pretty even, but how could this guy, in so many layers (including a hoodie with a corgi wearing a Santa hat printed across the chest) that Andrew wasn’t even sure there was a body underneath all of them, be a stripper? He figured he was the DJ replacement for Ryan. Or maybe a new assistant for Matt.

Steven wouldn’t last to the new year, Andrew was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

Famous last words, Andrew thinks, as he watches Steven do some complicated spin around the pole. Watching him makes Andrew’s skin feels like it’s been simultaneously lit on fire and dunked in ice water. It’s sad, really.

It’s been exactly a month since Steven started, the ninth time Andrew has seen him perform (Not that he’s counting. He just has a good memory for cute boys named Steven), and he clearly isn’t going anywhere.

He swallows a mouthful of bourbon in a vain attempt to calm himself down, too quickly to really taste the smoky, smooth flavor. Andrew hadn’t felt this kind of attraction to someone in a long time, long enough that he doesn’t even remember the last time he was crushing this hard, but there was just something about Steven. Magnetic and intense.

It’s halfway through his performance and Steven has stripped down to his sinfully tight gold briefs, his pants and tank top discarded on the stage behind him. His white-blond hair has fallen in his eyes, damp from the movement of his body and heat of the lights, his skin glistening with sweat and his signature shimmery gold body dust.

(“Really?” Andrew says incredulously, “That’s your stage name. Gold Shaker? What are you, a Bond villain?”

Steven’s face lit up in what had to be the most beautiful smile Andrew has ever seen. “Sounds more like a Bond girl to me. ‘Gold Shaker, the richest you’ll ever feel’.” )

He is insanely hot, one leg wrapped around the pole, his back arched so far his hair is nearly brushing the stage floor and his hips are rolling against the metal in time with the beat of his song.

It’s really almost pornagraphic how flexible Steven is. In fact, Andrew’s willing to bet Steven would make a killing if he branched out into porn.

(He should have realized he was too far gone when the thought, the thought of anyone touching Steven makes him clench his fists as his sides. The sharp jut of pain from his fingernails reminds him he needs to relax -- Steven doesn’t belong to him.

Of course, that doesn’t stop Andrew from trying and failing spectacularly not to think about all the positions he could probably bend Steven into, if he was Andrew’s.)

The lights catch the gold shimmer decorating Steven’s body, highlighting the definition of his abs and the sharp jut of his hip bones. The trail disappears below the band of his briefs, reappearing between Steven’s thighs and there isn’t a force on this earth that could stop Andrew’s thoughts from shifting, thinking about the noises he could wring from Steven, as he trailed his fingers through the downey hair where briefs met skin, followed by his lips, tongue, and teeth. He wants to touch and taste until Steven falls apart beneath him, and then he wants to do it again.

Adam clears his throat, pulling Andrew’s attention away from the stage, and out of his thoughts. Andrew hopes the dim lights of Worth It hide the flush he knows has spread up his neck and across his cheeks, but he knows from experience that it probably hasn’t.

“I think you’re drooling. You want a napkin?” Adam slides him a few fingers of bourbon, amusement coloring his face.

“I’m just doing my job, Adam,” Andrew insists as he downs the whole glass in one large swallow, trying to convince himself more than anyone else. It’s one of their better bourbons, something that should be sipped and savored, not wasted on Andrew’s raging libido. God, when had he last had sex? “Making sure no one needs to be thrown out on their ass.”

Shane, who is effortlessly twirling a bottle of gin for a martini at the other end of the bar, laughs. “For what, Ilnyckyj. Touching your future boyfriend?”

“For touching an employee.”

Adam replaces his empty bourbon glass with a tall glass of water, the look of sympathy on his face makes Andrew feel worse than he already does, which is really saying something.

Andrew keeps his eyes on the glass, watching the condensation drip down the side onto the bar top and picking at the bowl of pretzels Adam had left him, until he finally hears the close of Steven's music and it’s safe to look at the stage again.

Fuck, so much for this job being easy.

***

 

Because, apparently, God hates him, Steven decides to befriend Andrew.

No matter how little Andrew acknowledges his presence, or how many times he turns down Steven’s invitation to check out the new Thai place or the new movie that’s playing. Steven keeps trying. It’s like it’s his mission or something.

His determination would be kind of impressive, if it wasn’t directed at Andrew. He’s not sure how many more times he can turn Steven down. It’s exhausting and Andrew is weak. Something Shane likes to remind him of daily. (So, it was only a matter of time before Steven's requests wore him down.)

Steven is so nice. Always there for anyone who needed him, with a helpful hand or listening ear. He always gives his change to the needy and Andrew has personally witnessed him help an elderly women across the street. He’s the kind of person someone would be proud to bring home to their mother. Andrew knows for fact his own mother would adore Steven.

It had been awhile since he brought a boy, or a girl for that matter, home to his mother or otherwise. It was easier to be alone. Less mess, less complications. Andrew had classes, Adam and Annie, and he was thinking about adopting a cat.

He doesn’t need to add someone like Steven. (Loud. Extravagant. Amazing.) It’s better that way.

Chapter Text

Steven finally wears down the last line of his defenses on Saint Patrick’s Day (well, a few hours after). It’s been a hell of a shift, with more shitfaced people than Andrew will probably have to deal with the rest of the year and if he has to hear another bad attempt at an Irish accent, it will be too soon. But as bad as Andrew’s night has been, Steven’s is worse.

Andrew has watched more than one individual slide their hands from Steven’s knee to his thighs. Most of them get the idea when Steven lifts it off his body and places it back on the armrest of the chair. The ones that don’t, Andrew has the pleasure of hauling outside. He's heading back inside from kicking out the latest handsy customer, who insists Steven’s ass is like the gold at the bottom of a rainbow (I mean, they’re not wrong), when someone spills an entire pitcher of green beer down the front of Steven.

Andrew hates St. Patrick’s Day. 

To his credit, Steven stays calmer than anyone else Andrew’s seen covered in beer. He gets up from the lap he’d been hovering over and politely excuses himself, disappearing into the back. 

Worth It has emptied out for the night and Andrew is sitting at the bar, helping Adam stock, when Steven comes back, clean and dressed festively in tight green pants, taps him on the shoulder and says, “Today was the worst . Do you wanna get food with me?” 

And maybe it’s the fact that Andrew just watched him get soaked with beer, or that Andrew, despite his best intentions, has grown to like Steven (for more than just his body), that has Andrew agreeing. Surprising himself and Steven (and Adam). “Okay, where?”

“Wait, really?” Steven’s answering grin definitely doesn’t make Andrew’s stomach fill with butterflies or make him wish he had said yes weeks ago, just to see it. “I mean, do you like pancakes?”

* * * 

 Steven, he learns over said pancakes, is a student at UCLA (like Andrew), majoring in chemical engineering of all things. He’s from Ohio, he calls his mother every night (who worries about him making friends and that makes Andrew feel more than a little guilty for spending so much time avoiding Steven), and he kind of wants to be a K-pop star. 

“A K-Pop star,” Andrew says, throwing an arm across the back of the booth, the line of Steven’s shoulders mere inches away. 

Steven has the decency to blush before nodding. “Yeah, I took a class and everything. It’s kind of how I got into stripping, actually. One class lead to another, next thing you know I’m learning to pole dance.”

Andrew’s face floods with heat. He doesn’t want to, but the thoughts come unbidden and unwanted: Steven’s face bright with laughter, pale skin stretched taut over his biceps and thighs as he pulls his body up and around, the curve of Steven’s neck, his long fingers wrapped around Andrew’s--. Jesus Christ, what the fuck, Andrew. 

Andrew takes a large swallow of his coffee, and promptly changes the subject. “You’re not at all who I thought you would be.”

“What does that mean?” Steven’s mouth creases into the start of a frown.

Shit. “Not in a bad way,” Andrew insists. “You’re...more complex than I originally thought.” 

That doesn’t sound any better, Andrew realizes, but it’s the best he can do without gushing. Andrew doesn’t know him very well, but he knows there’s something special about him. Steven isn’t just a stripper. He’s smart and kind and maybe a little bit magical. Like a unicorn. When he’s dancing, it’s entrancing, but outside of Worth It, his body somehow loses all of its sexy fluidity, to the point where Andrew wonders if they're really the same person. 

How can the person, who blushes and stutters when their waitress blatantly flirts with him, be the same person who doesn’t bat an eye at taking off his clothes? Does he have a secret twin?  

(Andrew wonders this until, weeks into their friendship, when Andrew is doing his rounds backstage and Steven comes bounding up to him, full of his usual enthusiasm, and says, “Hey Andrew.”

“Hello,” he replies, distracted.

“Is my back evenly coated? Eugene is hogging the mirror. As always,” Steven complains. “Can you help me?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Andrew checks off the last item on his list, not really hearing the first part of Steven’s complaint. He looks up from his clipboard, and honest to god nearly swallows his goddamn tongue. He probably looks like something out of a cartoon. Like when anyone sees Jessica Rabbit. 

Steven is naked from the waist up with the tiniest towel Andrew has ever fucking seen wrapped around his narrow hips. It’s slung so low that Andrew can tell there’s nothing but skin beneath it. Fuck, is Steven trying to kill him? Like some kind of sexy stripping assassin. 

“Andrew?” Steven is looking at him expectantly, a slight crease in the skin between his eyes. “Are you in there?”

Andrew, when his brain finally gets back online, blurts out, “Wha-at?” His voice cracking in the middle. 

“My back. I think I missed a spot. Can you check?” Steven smiles, holding out his jar of gold shimmer. 

Andrew nods, not sure he could speak even if he wanted to, taking the jar from Steven’s hands and gesturing for Steven to turn. 

Steven turns around and for a moment, Andrew forgets what he was asked, forgets everything. He reaches out to touch the long lines of pale skin and lean muscle of Steven’s back, lets his knuckles follow the curve of his spine down.  He’s even more gorgeous up close. 

Steven’s skin is warm, shimmering gold, and dotted with freckles that Andrew wants to trace with his tongue, connect them like constellations. His fingers brush over the edge of the towel and Steven shivers, goosebumps erupting under Andrew’s fingertips. He tries to apologize, but the sound gets stuck in throat. It must be cold, he thinks distantly, but he feels like his blood is boiling in his veins. 

After a pause, that is embarrassingly long, Andrew pulls his hand away from where his fingers had been errantly tracing the edge of Steven’s towel. He quickly shoves both hands into his pocket so he isn’t tempted to reach out and touch again, his clipboard clattering to the floor between them. He manages to stutter, “Uhh...yep. Looks, uh, looks...sparkly.”

It isn’t one of Andrew’s finest moments .)

“Like an onion?” Andrew offers, when minutes have passed without Steven saying anything.

Steven’s eyebrows knit together, an adorable display of confusion. Andrew has never met anyone so expressive. “Tasty and I make you cry?”

“No, you absolute idiot, layered .”

After that, Steven will not leave him alone. If Andrew thought Steven was determined before, he was wrong. Steven’s offers to grab food, hit up the movie theater, or go to the beach increase exponentially. The thing is, Andrew really doesn’t have the energy to fight the magnetic pull of Steven and his friendship anymore, so, he doesn’t even bother trying, accepting all of Steven’s invitations as they come. 

Andrew doesn’t think he’ll ever forget driving up the coast after work on the 4th of July with Steven in the passenger seat, the smell of salt water stinging his nose and Steven talking his ear off about Lim family traditions. 

(Adam, Annie, and Shane meet them on the beach with beer and fireworks that, when asked where he got them, Shane tells them it would probably better they didn’t know and the subject is quickly dropped. Annie lays out a few blankets so they don’t have to sit in the sand, weighing down the corners with rocks Adam procured along the beach, while Shane, who is several feet away, sets up the firework display.) 

Thinking back on that night, Andrew thinks he probably spent more of the night looking at Steven than the firework, marvelling how the colors lit up Steven’s skin and eyes. Steven’s laughter as they ran to escape the surf still echoes in Andrew’s dreams. The only difference being, when they fall to the sand together, half on top of each other and Steven’s leg between Andrew’s thighs, Andrew leans up to kiss Steven instead of what really happened that night: nothing (but an awkward boner for Andrew and an extremely long, cold shower). 

He likes Steven. Likes him more and faster than he was expecting to. Andrew doesn’t really like people, and he certainly doesn’t usually like people like Steven, who is the human embodiment of sunshine. 

Steven worms his way under Andrew’s skin and into Andrew’s life, like he belonged there. Like there was this space in Andrew’s life carved out just for him. Like... like friend soulmates or some shit. It makes Andrew feel kind of bad for the sheer amount of lust he still carries around for Steven because he really does love being Steven’s friend. It’s enough for him. Really.

Steven can be found on Andrew’s couch after work, more often than Andrew wants to admit. Sometimes with food, and always with homework. Steven is so hard working, it’s disgusting, but he also makes Andrew a better student. Andrew’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

“Do you want to order pizza?” Steven asks. His legs are stretched across the couch, into Andrew’s lap. His glasses practically falling off his face, nose buried in Chemical Engineering Thermodynamics. “I’m starving.

Andrew could use a break from Statistics and from Steven’s proximity, so he says, “Yeah, I could eat. Enzo’s?” He pushes Steven’s legs off his lap, ignoring Steven’s grumble and gets up to look for his phone.  

Steven nods so enthusiastically Andrew is surprised his glasses don’t slip off the end of his nose. It’d been known to happen. 

“You want the usual?” Andrew asks when he comes back from his room, phone in hand and finger poised over the call button. He pretty sure of the answer, Steven is a creature of habit, but it’s only polite to check. Maybe Steven’s become a vegetarian. Steven doesn’t tell him everything. 

But Andrew knows that’s probably not really true. Steven is the most open of books. There isn’t a thought that Steven has that he doesn’t share with him. Things Andrew would never admit to without a fair amount of alcohol in him spill from Steven as easy as breathing. 

 

(They’re sitting on Andrew’s couch watching Game of Thrones and eating sushi. Andrew should be doing homework, but Steven is warm next to him and honestly, if he pulls out his Advanced Digital Filmmaking textbook, Steven will either leave or spill soy sauce on it, possibly both, and Andrew isn’t ready for Steven to leave yet. 

He’s just popped a piece of salmon sashimi from Steven’s tray in his mouth when Steven speaks. 

“I’ve never had sex. Is that really what it’s like?” he asks, pointing to Daenerys and someone, Andrew hasn’t really been paying attention, going at it on screen. He makes grabby hands for Andrew’s tuna roll, bouncing happily when Andrew hands it over. 

“Really?” Andrew asks, as casually as he can muster. He tries to keep sex and Steven in two very different categories. He usually fails, but he does try. 

“I haven’t,” Steven shrugs. “Girls weren’t really interested in me in high school and then in college, I realized I wasn’t into girls.”

“But you...you haven’t with...guys?” 

Steven pauses to eat another piece of Andrew’s tuna roll. “I mean, I made out with a few guys back in Ohio, but that’s it. Have you?”

He takes his tuna roll back from Steven, who has eaten almost half, but has the decency to look abashed. Andrew smirks and says, “Made out with guys in Ohio? Nope.” 

“You know what I mean,” Steven insists, rolling his eyes and bumping their shoulders together. 

Andrew isn’t in the proverbial closet, hasn’t been since junior year of high school, but this still isn’t something he likes to talk about. It’s too personal. Too big of a piece of him. But this is Steven . Steven shares so much of himself with Andrew, without a second thought. Andrew can trust Steven with this, with everything. “I’ve fooled around with guys. A few times. Not in awhile though. I barely even remember the last time I kissed someone.” 

He did remember. It had been about a week before Steven started at Worth It and ruined his goddamn life, but Andrew doesn’t think Steven needs to know that.

“A lot of people see me almost naked,” Steven says a few minutes later, “and I love stripping, but that’s still not really me . Gold Shaker is someone I become. I want it... sex to be with someone special. Someone who loves me . You know?" 

Andrew has so many things he wants to say, like how special Steven is to him, how happy he is to have Steven in his life, how he likes him, not for his body, but because he wants to be a chemical engineer and because he brakes for squirrels and remembers how Andrew takes his coffee and because he’s Steven, how he likes everything about him. But all he can get to come out is, "Yeah, I know what you mean. You deserve that, Steven. You deserve everything." )

 

Steven gives him a thumbs up, not looking up from his textbook. “Duh.”

When he hangs up the phone and is still out of Steven’s reach, he asks, as seriously as he can, “If you were on the Jersey Shore, would The Works be your nickname?”

Steven chucks a pillow at Andrew’s head in response. “When’s the pizza getting here? I’m too hungry to keep studying. Let’s watch a movie.”

Andrew sits back down on the couch next to Steven, who immediately returns his feet to Andrew’s lap. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my Steven? Steven loves homework. I’ve had to beg you to stop. Literally beg.”

Steven shrugs and with a laugh, waggles his eyebrows. “I don’t know, maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”

Andrew forces a laugh but it sounds more like he’s choking. Thankfully, Steven doesn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, you wish.”

Steven is going to be the death of him. 

Chapter Text

How they both got Halloween off is a mystery to Andrew. Not that he’s complaining - holiday/theme nights are some of the worst at Worth It (and this way he gets to avoid a scantily clad costumed Steven. He’s seen the costume in the back of Steven’s closet.

The pearly white wings, that would fall just under the curve of Steven’s ass, the shimmering speedo, and the white fishnets. Fishnets. Andrew didn’t have the strength). 

Andrew thought they could go to the movies and avoid all the drunken freshmen, but no. Steven has to study.  

It’s not even final’s week and Steven insists on cramming for Organic Chemistry. Which is ridiculous because Steven could never study another day in his life and still get an A but, Steven, being Steven, isn’t willing to leave that to chance. Andrew can’t really find fault in that. Steven’s intelligence and commitment to his future are just a few of the nearly endless things that Andrew loves about him. (Andrew is so gone for Steven.)

“That would be irresponsible, Andrew,” Steven had said, brow creased in disappointment. In Andrew or his inability to go with him, Andrew hadn’t been sure.  “I owe it to myself to do the best I can.” 

That’s how Andrew finds himself at the movies, alone, on a rare Friday night off. It’s weird , if Andrew is honest with himself, pulling into the parking lot of the movie theater without Steven in the passenger seat. Andrew never had a problem going to the movies alone before Steven, in fact, he usually went alone. A few of his classes required him to watch some of the classics, and with the occasional exception of Adam, no one was really interested in watching Casablanca or Citizen Kane. But Steven acted like it was a personal affront against him when Andrew didn’t invite him the first time, so Andrew always invited him along, and Steven always came. 

He’s not seeing a film for class tonight but he still misses Steven by his side. Misses his hand brushing against his own as they walk, misses Steven discussing the merits of sneaking in snacks, misses Steven. 

He spends several minutes outside the theater, receiving more than a few strange looks, debating saying fuck it and telling Steven to come over to study, even starts tapping out the message when his phone buzzes in his hand with a text from Steven.

Steven <3: (6:02) can you bring me food after your movie? sorry I couldn’t come. :/ 

 

In that moment, Andrew scraps his plan to bail and heads inside. Steven would blame himself for Andrew skipping out and Andrew didn’t want to, or even know how, to explain it wasn’t Steven’s fault Andrew was inexplicably incapable of doing things without him. 

“Only one today.” Andrew says, when he gets to the ticket window, the words feeling heavy and foreign on his tongue. 

The knowledge that he can sit wherever he wants, not the back row that Steven prefers, and could have chosen to see the movie in 3D, because, even though Steven would never complain - the glasses hurt his eyes,  that no one is going to be whispering questions or comments into his ear, it’s… it’s unsettling. Steven is tied up in parts of himself that Andrew didn’t even know existed, parts he thinks Steven may have created. 

Andrew: (6:17) sure. fries and milkshakes? 

 

Andrew has only been to Steven’s apartment a handful of times, Steven insisting Andrew’s felt more like home, which definitely didn't make his heart flip and his chest ache, but he thinks he remembers there being an In-N-Out Burger he can stop at on the way there. 

He walks towards the snacks counter, trying to decide how much popcorn he really needed for himself and if he wants chocolate covered raisins. He eventually settles on a large popcorn. You can’t have too much popcorn, and plus it’s like forty cents more with free refills, and that’s just economical.

Even though Steven’s not here, Andrew can hear his teasing anyway. 

 

( They’re at the grocery store because Andrew wants to practice a recipe for his cooking class and Steven wants pop tarts, and tea eggs from the Asian grocery next door. 

“Should I get rocky road or mint chocolate chip?” Andrew asks, looking between the two cartoons in his hands. “Or both?” He puts them both in the cart and continues down the aisle. 

Steven trails behind him, having gotten distracted by a new flavor of pizza rolls. “Why don’t you just get ice cream on campus?”

“It’s cheaper to buy a gallon and I don’t have to leave my apartment. Or talk to people.”

Steven laughs, tossing a bag into their cart. “Oh my god, Andrew. You’re like an economically wise sad old man.”

“Gee, you really know how to make a guy feel loved,” Andrew says, in the flattest tone he can muster. 

“It’s okay, you’re my sad old man.” )

 

“Large popcorn and twizzlers, right?” The attendant, Andrew glances down at their name tag, Samantha, asks. She takes a package of twizzlers out from under the counter and puts in next to the popcorn. 

Andrew feels himself flush, probably a color similar to twizzlers. He and Steven really do come here too often. He makes a note to start rotating theaters.  “Nope, it’s just me today.”

“Oh, sorry. You’re usually here with your boyfriend, I just assumed.”

The thing is, Andrew’s not surprised she thinks he and Steven are dating. More often than not, Steven is standing a little too close, is a little too friendly, whines things like, “come on, Andrew. Let me pay this time” while grabbing at Andrew’s hands. It gives people, sometimes Andrew included, the wrong idea. 

That’s the reason he gives himself for not correcting her, “It’s fine. We get that a lot.” Andrew says, handing over a ten dollar bill. At least movies are cheaper without Steven. “He has a big test Monday, so he’s home studying.”

Steven <3: (6:28) yes please! ❤️

 

He tries to pay attention to the movie but Steven’s hand isn’t bumping his in the popcorn bucket. Steven isn’t hogging the arm rests so Andrew has no choice but to put his arm over the back of his seat. Steven isn’t here. It’s more distracting than it should be. I really am pathetic , Andrew thinks. 

He makes it through the rest of the movie without losing his mind over what has become of his life. It’s hard to think about your sad love life when there’s explosions and espionage. 

On his way out, Samantha waves to him from behind the snack counter. “I hope your boyfriend passes his test! Goodnight.”

Andrew pulls out his phone to text Steven. He figures there’s about a 50/50 chance Steven has already passed out, face first in one on his textbooks. 

Andrew: (8:05) how’s studying going? 

Andrew: (8:06) do we spend too much time together? Like three people asked me where you were. The girl at the food counter asked where my boyfriend was. 

Andrew regrets it the moment he presses send on his second text. He’s overthinking things. He’s going to make things weird. 

Steven <3: (8:06) what? no. of course not. we’re best friends. and, i’m waaaay too good looking for you. ;)

Andrew breathes a sigh of relief. He should have known Steven would think nothing of the frankly unreal amount of time they spend together, the fact that people thinking they’re together rolling off his back like it’s nothing. 

Steven <3: (8:07) i need brain food. organic chemistry is melting it.  hurry andrew.

Andrew laughs and sends Steven an eye rolling emoji. He should tell Steven he’s tired and to get his own fries and go home, but he knows he’s not going to. Not when he can so easily picture Steven’s soft brown eyes and his pretty mouth downturned into a pouting frown. “Pleeeeeease, Andrew.” God, he’s so, so weak. 

But, Steven’s smile when Andrew shows up with three kinds of fries and two milkshakes? Almost makes Andrew’s descent into the rabbit hole, also known as Steven filled codependency, worth it.