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[babysitters]

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[babysitters]

( perfect. he said what he said. to be fair, Steve has gone above and beyond to show his willingness to eat food that didn't turn out quite as intended. he isn't what one would call a natural in the kitchen — anything he knows, he knows from making it badly half a dozen times until he figures it out. Nancy has seen this over and over again and then some, in his attempts to master the art of pancakes. grilled cheese aren't exactly new for him, though, so the well done nature of this sandwich definitely has more to do with a sudden and very last minute realization that he should brush his teeth before Nancy arrives. because of the absolute kiss potential her presence entails, suddenly, and wonderfully.

and frankly, when Steve is a little lit, any kind of food is good. a little burned is nothing compared to the abominations he's concocted out of leftovers, frozen dinners, and whatever he could find at the back of the pantry.

speaking of the pantry, Steve makes no move to step in and assist. and in fact, he enjoys the show as her expression shifts to determined I'll show this prick, and the adorable straining for mints that are somehow on Steve's side in all this, and stay intently just out of reach. ) Mean? ( Steve repeats, playfully astonished, not even looking at the plate he flips his well-done grilled cheese out onto as he tries to stifle a grin. )

I make you dinner, I'm willing to share candy, I'm gonna get you completely and utterly baked, and I'm mean, huh? ( wow, what an accusation. especially considering his hands are on his lanky hips, full noted asshole posture, enjoying Nancy's slim form strained against his unforgiving cupboard shelves. did she know her sweater hiked up a little in that determined reaching she was doing? no? Steve noticed, for sure. they've agreed to take it slow on the hanky panky front, he didn't forget, but hey! looking isn't against the rules, now is it? ) I could reach those for you, probably. But now I'm gonna need some inspiration, Nance. Words hurt, you know. Mean. Me.

( Nancy will know his feelings aren't hurt about as much as she knows he's being a brat on purpose. it's fine. especially if she folds to the be sweet on him blackmail. he'll get her the candy eventually either way, so why not, right? surely Nancy sees the logic there. )

[keenely]

[ i make you dinner... has her looking back at him over her shoulder, but it's only once he asks his quite clearly very rhetorical question that she actually turns around to face him properly, settling flat on her feet again. the full dad-lecture stance almost makes her laugh, but she manages to keep her expression fairly neutral, besides a tiny quirk of the corner of her mouth, as she lifts her brow and nodnodnods. because yes! mean! she said what she said and she meant it! no she didn't. ]

Oh, you need inspiration.

[ very "ohh mhm mhm i see i see!". she knows the bratty attitude is him being a goofball, and she could very easily just turn it around on him with a solid "fine, i don't really want any candy anyway", but there are a few other options that are way more fun, so... yeah, she'll be going with those. she chews her bottom lip as she looks up in very serious thought, like she really needs to think this one over. how to inspire and motivate steve into helping her? HMMM. it's not long before that lip bite becomes a small pout, because there might be 100 ways to play this, but she ends up going with a classic approach, because... why try to fix something that isn't broken?

so she pouts, slowly mosies closer to him - not shy or timid, really, just slower than her usual pace - until she's close enough that she has to tip her chin up a bit to keep her eyes on his, and close enough to pinch the hem of his t-shirt, twisting it around her finger. ]

I really want a Peppermint Patty, but I just can't think of a way to inspire you. Do you think- Could you get them down from the shelf for me anyway? Please? [ she reaches for one of his hands so she can tug it off of his hip with a loose grip around his wrist, although she doesn't really let go even once their hands are hanging between them. she slides her hand down so she can draw little swirls along the inside of his wrist with her fingertips, just under the heel of his hand. she doesn't actually know if it's a particularly sensitive spot for him, but he always seemed to like it whenever she did this when she was feeling soft and touchy ( in a more genuine way than right now, hah ), so... maybe it was? if nothing else, she's hoping the pot will help her out with this one. ] Because m'really sorry, Steve. I shouldn't have called you mean. It's so sweet of you to share your candy with me, and make me a grilled cheese sandwich. [ there's a "i always love when you cook for me" paired with a "you always take good care of me" but... that's a little too real for a playful, pouty plea for minty chocolate ]

[babysitters]

( what is that face about, Wheeler??? he did make dinner! and only his grilled cheese is cosplaying as a charcoal briquette, so, you made it out pretty good here! still, there's no point in arguing about the cute little things her face does, when he can see the flirty lightbulb going off above that curly head, and her tone does that thing it does when she over annunciates inspiration.

and maybe he should have been more cautious, throwing Nancy right back into the flirty wind. after all, they're not the same dumb teenagers they were, when they did this last time. maybe their flirting has to be more adult. different, world weary, worn down on the edges, just like they are. maybe it's a little too nostalgic, to flirt with her just like he used to, when he would pull absolutely any excuse out of thin air to convince her he needed a kiss or a touch or her close to accomplish something. maybe he's gotta up his game, figure out what graduating in a month Nancy Wheeler likes, instead of just spit balling with the stuff that worked on her when she was 16.

only, maybe it still works on her now, because she slinks over, looks at him under those soft curly lashes that he used to fall asleep counting, toys with the hem of his shirt and impressively keeps a composed pout on her face despite how warm and bubbly being like this again feels. how does she do it? Steve isn't totally sure, Nancy makes standing this close and not kissing seem so easy. that she's just perfectly content with keeping a few scant inches between them, the pad of her thumb rubbing circles on his wrist. Steve feels a few steps away from crazy when Nancy is this close, and she's still wiling on about grilled cheese and mint candies and not at all knowing how to convince him, really! he doesn't quite remember when his hand moved from his hip to hers, it just happened. felt natural. like that was the obvious update to positions, when Nancy was close enough to touch.

is it the pot, or is it just being a huge and complete dope for Nancy, that does it? jury is out, because Steve would get her the mints whether he was toked right now or not. and he should probably keep up with the game, offer a heavy sigh and a dramatic I guess I could manage that, but instead it sort of falls away to the first thing that comes to mind in the moment. ) I missed this. ( talking about nothing in his kitchen, Nancy close enough that he can smell the hint of floral perfume under her hairspray. the bright dance in blue eyes that gave away how much she was enjoying something, even if Nancy has a hell of a poker face. totally blowing a hole in your own flirty game here, Harrington, but it's the truth, and he did! is it so wrong to say it? he missed it, and relatedly, he's very glad to not have to miss it more. )

[keenely]

[ ohhhhh, this little-! well, now that's-! not. fair. it's totally not. because it's impossible to keep up the flirty-pouty-damsel-in-distress thing when he says that, and looks at her like that, all soft around the edges. her finger twists another loop in his shirt, giving it a firm tug, like stretching out the hem of his perfectly comfortable tee serves as an appropriate reprimand for throwing her off her game here. because her pout disappears to make way for a blushy smile, her eyes even dropping downcast, making it clear that she obviously has some work to do in rebuilding her tolerance for how sweet steve can be sometimes. the fact that he's so relaxed and smiley sure as hell isn't helping, either. how can one guy be so attractive, in about three dozen different ways, give or take?? it's actually kind of annoying. ]

I did, too. [ she's trying really hard not to lean - not to lean closer, an DEFINITELY not to lean against him - but it's probably obvious that she wants to, especially once she unravels his shirt from around her fingers and rests the tips of her fingers against his stomach instead. it's not actually all that forward of a change, it's just a different tone, that's all. ] I missed you. A lot. [ which is weird, considering they've been hanging out pretty frequently at this point, but. it makes sense in her head. ] C'mere. [ welp, so much for not leaning. her hand slips up so she can hook her finger in his collar, although it's really more for just effect than anything else, because she takes it upon herself to lift up on her toes and tilt her head just right, to kiss him in a casually soft way that they so have not discussed as something they should be tempting themselves with??? exactly?? but. oops. ask for forgiveness, not permission, right? although honestly, the way he's looking at her feels like permission. it's that kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me do it do it do it do it look that he's so good at. his face is the one that needs a reminder of the rules, not her. ]

[babysitters]

( if his expression shifts into the world's dopiest smile at the shared confession, well, sue him. it's a nice feeling, to be missed. to be missed like this, because it feels like maybe he never stopped missing Nancy, and he realized it a couple years too late. ) Missed me how much, ( Steve asks, though he's not really asking, because Nancy is already half way to showing him. so yes, clearly she has permission. and it's good for Nancy to remember Steve can switch between flirty goading and being sweet, without warning. no wonder Nancy is suffering whiplash.

besides. there's never a time, or a place, that Nancy does not have permission to kiss him. which might prove an awkward stance to have, in execution that could be a really bad thing. what if she wants to kiss him in the middle of a crosswalk, or at some old lady's funeral? they'll cross that bridge when they come to it. kissing him in his kitchen is probably pretty safe, all things considered.

it's not a sort of kiss they've discussed but surely, soft kisses, just-cuz-I-felt-like-it kisses, are absolutely fair game? they don't have to mean much at all, besides the obvious, I really want to kiss you thing. he doesn't lean far to meet her, which requires some tippy-toeing and further leaning to accomplish it, but who said that was a bad thing? )

[keenely]

[ she totally doesn't realize that she was expecting steve to lean down until he doesn't, and if the hum she presses into their kiss sounds disgruntled, it's only because it takes her a second to process what feels different before she thinks to lift up on her toes that little bit more to get to the proper height for proper kissing. her fingers walk up to curl over his shoulder, and it's very tempting to tug him down and pretend that she thinks maybe she just needed to jog his memory on how this goes, but... nope! she's totally got this. nancy is nothing if not determined and adaptable and

definitely biting his bottom lip and giving it a little tug before pulling back with a smile. she doesn't move away, which means she's still leaning about 80% of her body against his, but with enough space between them that she doesn't go crosseyed trying to focus on his face. ]

We shooould [ ditch the "slow" plan, make out more, move this to your bedroom, all of the above ] eat those sandwiches before they get cold, hm? [ she gives him one more quick peck on the lips before settling flat on her feet again, then reaches to grab the plate with the less-charred grilled cheese for her so she can focus on that instead of the way she wants to just keep kissing him. she turns to leave the kitchen with the full confidence of someone that knows exactly where they're headed to next, to carry out the rest of their plans for the day. it's not as if there are a million possible places they could go, so she's not too worried about it. he'll just have to catch up to lead the way. ] And I'm ready for you to show me what all the fuss is about with the, ah- y'know. With the stuff. [ why she can't just say "pot" or "about getting high" is a mystery, but her voice still has all the confidence in the world, as does the way she so-very casually throws the statement over her shoulder, followed by a slightly dramatic ] Mmmmmphf! [ after impatience gets the best of her and she takes the very satisfying toasty first bite of her sandwich. ] --'sho good.

[babysitters]

( it accounts for maybe 5% of all Stancy kisses, that Steve doesn't give a little and put his face in a slightly more accommodating position. all the same, it isn't his fault that Nancy forgot the bounce and angle required to land one on him when he's standing upright. and maybe there's something enjoyable in the sweet strain, the slight tinge of desperation. she figures it out, and it does in fact involve more leaning. which he has absolutely no complaint about.

frankly, Steve is not thinking about the unfortunate Slow Decision. he's not thinking much at all, besides how Nancy feels against him. he just barely has leaned down to meet her, much more focused on kissing her more — grilled cheese who? peppermint patties? never heard of 'em — and then one last butterfly kiss and then she's gone. Steve does not have the brainpower to process what just happened to him. this isn't fair. he even squints a little, like he's not sure it really happened. stoned brains tick on half time, so when his sad little noggin realizes what happened it is already far too late and Nancy is munching her way through a grilled cheese and waltzing off to another room.

what a brat. why is he smiling??? goddamn, is he gone on Nancy Wheeler.

Steve pauses long enough to fetch her mints before he follows, even having to jog a few steps to manage it. nobody powerwalks like Nancy. ) C'mon, ( and he doesn't lead the way, just catches an arm around her and navigates her into the family room. is it pointedly not in the direction of the den and the pool just out the back? yes. it is pointedly not in the direction of the den, and the pool just out the back. )

And you're a brat, by the way. ( he would have liked to do a bit more kissing in that kitchen! just fyi!!! two can play at being brats, so releasing her with a farewell pat on the ass just feels fair. well — is that Steve being a brat, or is that Steve wanting to touch Nancy's butt and lacking the maybe don't processing when he's a little toked? it could really be either. he drops on the faded plaid couch and abandons his already half eaten sandwich (when did that happen??? boys are impossible mysteries) and peppermints on the coffee table to fuss with a cigar box. no cigars in it, turns out. his dad would be furious. )

Your mom ever let you finish one of her cigarettes? ( Steve wonders, idly, sparing a glance towards Nancy before plucking a blunt from box and letting it just barely hang from his mouth as he tries to remember where he put his lighter. )

[keenely]

[ nancy knew there'd be a very brief waiting period before steve caught up to her - though it's less because of his slow-poke high and more about the way he always seemed to need a few seconds to process whenever she had the audacity to move out of his reach when they were just kissing - which is why the way she smiles at him once his arm is around her probably looks a little smug. just a bit. she's easily led ( and luckily she's far too distracted to think about the direction they aren't headed in ), even though her expression is starting to shift to something a little more... impish? immature amusement making her eyes widen a bit as she realizes where they're heading. because this the family room and they're about to do Drugs here.

sneaking around behind her parents' backs to fight off various things that go bump in the night is one thing, but smoking a joint with her ..steve, right out in the open? scandalous. true teenage rebellion. she's about to say as much, actually admit that this is making her feel so rebellious, but luckily he saves her from that embarrassment making her stop in her tracks by calling her a brat, and giving her a quick tap on the butt. she gasps like she would be clutching her pearls, if she was wearing them ] Hey! [ then laughs, even as she feels the tops of her cheeks turn rosy. ] I am not a brat. You're a brat.

[ good one.

she doesn't stand back for very long, eventually moving around the couch to sit down next to him. although she's less relaxed than he is about it, with her plate on her lap and her hands holding onto either side of it because her heel is bouncing just enough to lightly jostle it. the rest of her body language is more curious than anything else, at least, watching him closely. ]

Did she ever what..? [ close enough that she doesn't quite follow what's a pretty straight forward train of thought. it's not that she doesn't understand the question, but she wasn't expecting it, so it takes her a moment. she shakes her head. ] Oh, um. No? But I've never asked her if I could. [ the corner of her mouth quirks up as she watches him, catches onto the way his eyes are moving in search of something, then reaches out so she can lift the bag of peppermint patties and move it to the left by just an inch or two, revealing the lighter that was hidden under it. ] This would be the first time I've ever actually wanted to try smoking, believe it or not. And it's all because you're such a terrible influence, Steve Harrington. [ she swipes the lighter off the table before he gets the chance to, holding it between them, closer to herself than towards him. because she's not above initiating a lowkey keep-away challenge as a way of flirting. ] Need this?

[babysitters]

( well. it doesn't feel particularly rebellious to him, considering how rarely his parents bother showing up these days. his mother had pinched his cheek after graduation and said she couldn't believe her baby was all grown up. turns out, she really meant it. if his parents were distant before, they were straight up absent after. he sees his mom sometimes on long weekends, or when she comes in to "see friends", or "manage affairs". he hasn't seen his old man since some emergency at the home office required his in person attention. and his mom swears up and down that his dad had stayed at the house but Steve is almost 98% positive he stayed in a hotel. which seems so bizarre he doesn't even know how to unpack it, so he chooses not to.

the point is, there's not a big chance of his parents stumbling in to find him toking up his girlfriend in the family room. even if they did show up at random, this is the last possible place in Hawkins it'd be. which is... sad. best to not unpack, when the idea of getting a little lit is to forget about things and be happy awhile.

Steve lifts his eyebrows at Nancy, an unspoken, oh yeah? at the brat accusation. a firm departure from the woe-is-me-noted-nice-guy-Steve-Harrington from the kitchen. in this instance, it doesn't seem to really be an insult. it crinkles downward into amusement when Nancy needs a couple tries to understand the question, but doesn't comment. ) I'm so sorry I made you want to get a little high and have a little fun but actually, you deserve it. We both do. ( yeah, they deserve getting a little blitzed on his mom's old couch! that's a thing. right? no? okay, well, if not karmically deserved, in Steve's opinion deserved. same enough difference. )

Yeah, I do. ( he's not totally sure how he lost it and it ended up with Nancy, but it isn't so much a problem as a unique opportunity. he could absolutely light it on his own, it does feel a bit like a part of the experience. so he leans a little closer, expression expectant. ) You gotta keep it on longer than you'd think, all right? I'll tell you when.

[keenely]

[ normally a sarcastic "i'm so sorry" from steve would be met with a "well, you should be." from her, but.. he makes a good point. her expression softens, because maybe this isn't exactly the first idea she would have come up with if someone asked her what she would like to do for fun, now that they have time to actually relax, but it's certainly not a bad option. she also really likes seeing steve so relaxed, to the point where it's helping her relax already too, whether she realizes it or not.

although her brows flick up when he moves closer to her, because she definitely wasn't expecting this to be a team effort, but- yeah, alright. she's game. she's so got this.

she turns to sit facing him properly, mostly for her own peace of mind, since it lends to a steady hand as she lifts the lighter up between them. she tips her head to make sure she's got it all lined up right, the corner of her mouth quirking up as she sets her thumb against the spark wheel and igni-

hmmmmmmmm.

ignites it! there. second time's a charm.

and now! she absolutely doesn't know where to look. in a completely innocent way, at first, because this is a learning experience and she wants to watch what he's doing, but-- it's his mouth, come on, of course she gets distracted. she's never understood the sex appeal of smoking that some people tend to go on about, like she just doesn't get it. it doesn't turn her off, but it's never turned her on, either. ..but that said! maybe it's the closeness, the fact that it's steve, or both, but when the joint quietly crackles as it catches, and he starts to inhale, she's- fixated, yeah. she's already sitting close enough to him that she's at least spared the embarrassment of leaning in even closer, but the way her lips part as she matches his slow inhale, then press shut once he lets her know she can lower the lighter, isn't exactly subtle either.

hopefully he's caught her staring at his mouth enough times in the past that he'll know she's not intentionally trying to signal anything, but instead realizes that there's definitely some part of her nerd brain that's counting the number of seconds that pass before he exhales.

she didn't realize she lifted her free hand to lightly settle on his shoulder until she's dropping it to conveniently distract herself by fiddling with the lighter, but it was just her fingertips?? barely there. so maybe it's fine. when she looks up again, she just watches him for a moment, then- ]

So you just... Breathe in? [ it didn't sound like such a silly question in her head, but once she says it, she ends up huffing a laugh, looking back down at her lap again ] I mean, doesn't it burn a little bit? You're inhaling smoke, I don't- [ get it. her life's embarrassing, yes. but she's still smiling, even as she looks at him again and straight up pleads- ] You can't make fun of me if I don't get it right the first time, okay? You have to promise.

[babysitters]

( Steve, for one, has always found smoking a little sexy. it's oral fixation central, for starters. and there's something satisfying about sharing a cigarette. the blur of smoke, words stolen between breaths. leaning pointedly close to share a light. he's mostly stopped smoking; Robin always makes faces or straight up throws his smokes out windows and since she's riding shotgun maybe 60% of the time he's in his car these days, it has cut down on how much he could smoke.

hash is a little different. it feels a predictable, to smoke dope and disappoint his dad just a tiny bit more. it's nice, though — not a high so jarring that it makes him feel like someone else. more like it lets him sink back to someone he used to be. a time machine that doesn't smell particularly good. lets his brain slow down enough to relax. and something about weed is even sexier than a cigarette. probably because when he's high he's handsy, like a cat that needs petting or it might spontaneously combust. Steve wonders what kind of high Nancy is going to be.

he's always intrigued by the girl underneath everything she's trying so hard to be. trying and succeeding, usually, it's just that all of it seems to be a lot. and that was before she started moonlighting saving the world, or taking down corrupt federal labs.

so you just... breathe it in. Steve huffs a laugh, huffs out the rest of the smoke over his shoulder so it doesn't up directly in Nancy's imploring face. she's taking this so seriously, which is adorable — getting high is usually the opposite of serious, for most people. ) And then out, ( he agrees, handing over the goods and propping his head in one hand to be a considerate coach through her first hit. ) I won't, ( Steve promises, but there's a stupid smile already pulling at his stupid face, so, it might be impossible to ask him not to tease her a little. he reaches over with his free hand, fingers barely fluttering at Nancy's jaw so the pad of his thumb can ghost over her lower lip. it doesn't linger long, his hand dropping to her neck instead. just a little support, you know, since she's nervous! or, okay. really, there's no reason for the touch. besides the fact he's lit and can't quite remember why he can't touch her wherever he wants. )

It just burns a little. You're gonna wanna cough, but wait until it's out or it'll feel like shit. ( in a weird way, they both are used to an uncomfortable feeling persisting in their lungs. luckily, weed smoke clears, unlike Upside Down air that seems to cling and linger, making every breath feel weird for weeks. )

[keenely]

[ he laughs and she narrows her eyes at him, not unlike the way she used to when they were younger, before she was more confident in the undefined thing that was very clearly forming between them. like she knew he wasn't being mean, but she still hadn't decided how defensive she was about to be over it. which... is a type of defensive by default. ah. but that's fine, because then he wraps up the two-step instruction guide on how to smoke with a dumb smirk, and only gives her enough time to scrunch her nose at him ( in the same way that's usually followed by an excuse you ) before holding the joint out for her to take. if her expression shifts to one that closely resembles the same wide-eyed stare a kitten makes after unexpectedly getting booped on the nose, sitting up straighter and blinking a few times before delicately taking it from him, it's because that's exactly how she feels, okay, shuddup.

and you'd think after all the shit they've been through, smoking pot for the first time wouldn't feel all that intimidating, but it is. it so is. it's intimidating in the way it's one of the most uncomplicated, stereotypical, straight-laced-teenager-learning-to-cut-loose situations she's found herself in, in a really long time. so ironically enough, watching him reach up to touch her without actually touching her, until his hand settles on her neck ( although maybe he did actually touch her, because her lips still feel tingly, right where his thumb lingered over them, even after he moves it away ) - actually is pretty comforting. distracting, but comforting.

her gaze drops from his as she wills her cheeks not to flush any darker than the pink she feels already settling there, only looking back up at him again as she nods - ] Right. [ and takes in that last little bit of advice.

it all seems very simple. and he certainly made it look easy. so she takes a quick breath, brings the joint to her lips. ..peeks at him past the lighter she's holding up, regrets it almost immediately once she sees he's already watching her because he looks sort of dreamy in more ways than one and wow that's a lot, so she rolls her eyes before looking away again to try and save face. she knows there's no way it worked, but whatever. okay.

she starts out fine, inhaling slowly once she flicks the lighter to life, humming a happy little sound when she can feel the subtle change once she's actually inhaling smoke, and it's okay to move it away. but. for some reason she didn't anticipate that she would be able to taste it, and especially not that it would taste kind of awful. so her brow pinches tight, but she tries too tough it out, stubbornly inhaling a little sharper, not realizing that would only make things way worse. ] Nh-hn. [ first it was her 16 year-old self, then a confused kitten, and now she sounds like a toddler that's learning for the first time that she really does not like brussels sprouts!!! and completes the look with watery eyes and a quick shake of her head, making her hair fluff up on either side of her face.

at least she manages to hand him the joint back in a hurry before sitting back and turning her face away, trying to get the smoke out of her throat with a sharp exhale. she coughs against her shoulder after, and it's not as much as she was expecting ( because she really didn't inhale much at all ), but she still whines because shit, he was right, it does burn. and it does feel like shit. and now she's wishing she grabbed something to drink before waltzing out of the kitchen before. damn. she clears her throat, winces at how scratchy it feels, then shakes her head again ]

That- That tasted so bad. Really, really bad. Blegh. [ she even sticks her tongue out with a wince - gross, gross, gross. she huffs! slouches! P O U T S!!! ] I think I burned my tongue.

[babysitters]

( she starts off strong. a little nervous instead of headstrong and defiant. which was unlike the last time he coerced her into something a little lascivious. apparently shotgunning a can of beer was not quite as intimidating as smoking a joint, which Steve finds at least a little funny because the shotgunning had required an actual knife and everything. maybe that's the war on drugs talking, or it's just farther out of Nancy's comfort zone than drinking something alcoholic in an especially stupid way. still, she manages her light and her inhale and to keep a hand on the spliff without anything going demonstrably wrong —

and then she doubles down and takes a second hit before she is even done with the first one, and Steve grimaces empathetically because he knows that's not going to be the most fun coming back up. he accepts the weed before it can tumble and burn a hole through his mother's last season couch and abandons it momentarily in an ashtray to rub Nancy's back empathetically as she coughs. ) I know, ( Steve says, and his voice is a little tinted with trying not to laugh again, but to be fair he's mildly toked over here. that makes everything funny! and Nancy is just... so cute. really. it's not like he's never noticed, in fact he's always noticed. truly he has consistently clocked Nancy Wheeler is adorable, it's his blessing and his curse to be so constantly aware of it. the point is, he already knew! it just hits deeper and different, a little high. )

Here, ( Steve says, and... what does that even mean? he doesn't elaborate, just leaves. returns less than a minute later with water, because toked brain hadn't been enough to think to bring some along, it had been aware enough to notice she might need a drink after that. he hands over a bottle of water, sets a few more on the coffee table. retrieves the joint as she cracks her drink open, takes another hit as he contemplates. ) You hit it too hard, that's all. I can help you, if you want.

( help her how? Steve doesn't elaborate that any more than he had when he disappeared to get her water, just looks at her expectantly to see if she'll agree or not. )

[keenely]

[ here, he says, and then.. leaves? nancy's still grimacing, and still looking at the spot where steve was sitting for a few seconds, before actually turning to watch him leave. well, that's-? okay. bye? it's actually fine, because she tries to swallow the stinky taste in her mouth and ends up coughing again, and it's so gross. she's pretty sure it's not always like that, there's no way people would smoke so much if it always made your mouth taste like burned crabgrass. she reaches for the little plate with her grilled cheese to take a couple big bites of it, and it sort of helps ( because it's actually a really great sandwich, damn harrington ), but she's still feeling betrayed enough that she looks scorned by the time he gets back with those water bottles. that makes her expression cheer up. good steve! brilliant steve! totally stoned, cozy, comfy... steve.

god, she needs to stop thinking about how easy it would be to ditch the plan and crawl onto his lap to snuggle for a while instead. she has a theory that the way he'd wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight would basically be as relaxing as whatever pot does, right???? ... no, okay. well, like, yes, it would be, but no, she shouldn't do that. she can chill out, she can get this. and least she knows what to expect now?

her brows lift as she takes a slow sip of water, grateful for the way it manages to get the worst of that burnt taste and feeling out of her mouth, but too curious about his offer to help to drink as much of it as she probably should. whatever, it's not going anywhere. ]

I didn't know it was possible smoke too hard. [ she really DIDN'T but she still adds some sass to the comment ] But... sure? How exactly do you help someone smoke?

[babysitters]

Oh yeah. Happens all the time.

( classic rookie mistake. Steve remembers all sorts of parties where a freshman or a new kid would try to look cool, pull too hard, and the entire room would laugh as smoke came out their ears. which... in hindsight, not that funny. he's gacked on a bad pull before, it sucks. the point is, it's not unheard of, to get in your head about it. try and take in too much, hold it too long, freak out when it comes back burning and brutal. the first hit is always the worst, after that it starts to kick in and they don't matter as much.

Steve cleared through half his water while Nancy is contemplating his offer, because beyond handsy and hungry, he's always thirsty stoned. honestly, Steve just sort of assumed Nancy would know what he meant by help. he clearly did not take her to enough parties if she doesn't know what a shotgun is. though, this might be the better way to accomplish it, all things considered. and the realization of that creeps onto Steve's face slowly, in a cat with the cream sort of smile. )

It's easy. All you gotta do is breathe in, breathe out. Simple. ( Steve abandons his bottle on the coffee table, and it's so obvious he's conspiring things they might as well be written on his face. ) Close your eyes, it'll help. ( that's not ominous at all, right? surely Nancy will have no problem settling back and closing her eyes when he's looking at her like a snack and he just got a bad case of the munchies. )

[keenely]

[ ... under different circumstances, that look from him would definitely hit in a completely, ah, inappropriate way, when their goal is to not rush things. but there's something different about it this time, and it's subtle, but it's enough to make her smile back in a way that probably isn't as knowing as it usually would be. under different circumstances. her brow furrows as she tips her head, which is another sign she's more curious than skeptical, even if she's trying to pretend that's all she's feeling right now.

she puts her bottle down on the table too before shifting on the couch, rolling her shoulders back, and sitting up a little straighter. she's not feeling slightly nervous again or anything, and it definitely has nothing to do with the fact that she actually can't handle the way steve is looking at her at all right now. ..well like, she can. she just can't handle it very gracefully. ]

Simple. [ she repeats, so skeptical. is she closer to him now? did she move closer after getting rid of her water bottle? oops. he tells her to close her eyes and she huffs a laugh, smiles, shakes her head. she tries to give him a very serious look after, but her eyes find his and they look sort of hazy, or maybe just more relaxed than she's seen him in a really long time. it's kind of impossible not to smile back, even if she still doesn't know. ] Alright, fine. Let's try it. [ breathing in, breathing out. okay. sure. she bites her bottom lip, but it's the last sign of her fluttering, silly nerves before she closes her eyes ] If this doesn't work, you're hand feeding me my first peppermint patty, by the way. My first three, actually. [ okay, okay, she's done, she'll go along with his plan now ]

[babysitters]

( if she's inching closer on her own, that just makes it easier on him. you can do a shotgun from a distance — some of the smoke falling where it is supposed to go, a will-they-won't-they kind of tease. and that's fun, sure. so close and yet so far. he's sort of tired of being so close yet so far with Nancy, so, that's not really what he has in mind.

Steve doesn't answer her skeptical peppermint patty threats. frankly, if he can get Nancy blazed enough that she wants to lounge in his lap and be hand fed peppermint patties, he will consider this experience a success. honestly he would probably feed her peppermint patties no matter what, though maybe he'd steal the second half while she was chewing. handler's fee.

maybe he's just a little too lit, and that is what slows him down. or it might just be that Steve is entirely aware of how Nancy reacts to anticipation. which is to say, impatiently. he's totally fine with her getting frustrated as she waits. it only takes him twenty seconds, tops, but Nancy will feel every second. eventually he shifts closer, knee pressed into Nancy's thigh. finally taking a pull into his lungs, before letting the joint dangle behind the couch as his spare hand takes Nancy by the jaw and leans closer.

he could kiss her, to share the smoke. he's aware. he's hoping they'll get there. especially as her high starts to build. for now, though, he just leans close enough that she can feel him without really feeling him, nose bumping against hers — and before that can really even register, the smoke spills from his mouth to fall over her parted lips. simple. all she has to do is breathe, as promised. he keeps a grip on her chin, tilting her face up to watch the smoke fall from her mouth. when her eyes flutter open again, he lifts his brows. expectant smirk on his stupid smug face. )

Better? ( it's a set-up, if she wants to take it. because there's only one way for him to really make it any easier for her to take a hit, and it requires no distance between them at all. )

[keenely]

[ twenty seconds is an insane amount of time to be expected to sit and wait with her eyes closed, but she manages it. technically. she was also technically fussing with the hem of her shirt in an effort to keep her hands to herself, fabric twisted up around her fingers, in a way that will definitely stretch it awkwardly if she doesn't knock it off soon. she clears her throat, just once, and it's almost dainty in how tiny the sound was, but it's with the same .."tone" she manages anytime she has to wait for basically anything. he's just lucky there's no desk with a bell for her to tap over and over and over until she gets his attention back. because obviously he's been distracted by something, obviously that's what happened. she doesn't hear the flick of his lighter, or the toasty crunch of grilled cheese, so- so what? why is nothing happening-???

she doesn't jolt when his knee bumps her, but she huffs a breath through her nose, her impatience reaching its l i m i t. it's so quiet between them that she can't miss the sound of his slow inhale, and it'll also be impossible to deny that she made a small sound when he touches her face, breath catching in her throat.

for some reason it didn't click that helping her out meant sharing the smoke between them, probably because she was too busy overthinking the whole thing to remember that she's seen people do this before in the past, in the middle of crowded house parties. smoking was never something she was interested in trying, so she never thought to bring it up as something they could try together, but this-? it was tempting, sure. of course it was. it always felt a little intrusive, maybe even voyeuristic, when her curiosity would get the best of her and she'd let herself watch two people do it, and- yeah, it turns out it feels just as intimate as she imagined it would be.

and not just because his lips are so damn close to hers. even though they are. and she's very aware of it. shit. now she just needs to focus on what's going on right now and not the fact that the only other times they've had their lips this close without actually kissing was when they were trying to catch their breath after making out for a while. or while they were-

it doesn't matter because she's focusing on what's going on right now!! she inhales slowly, and she's still overthinking it, for sure, but at least this time it doesn't send her into a brief panic. she holds it for a few seconds, then exhales- slowly! because she'd rather not ruin this by coughing up a lung again, thanks. although once she opens her eyes, that damn look on his face makes the tail end of that exhale more of a huff. ]

Ye- umm, yah. Mmmhm. [ dopey, goofy, embarrassing. she's not sure she feels anything, but she's also not sure how long it should take to feel anything. if she's being super specific, she feels a little lightheaded? maybe? but she doesn't think that has anything to do with thee smoke she just inhaled. still, it takes her a beat to pick up what he's putting down, despite the way her brain's been slowly tanking as the seconds tick by. ] But maybe it- could be better-better? [ she grins, moves her head the tiniest amount she can manage, just enough to gently bump his nose with hers. but she doesn't move otherwise, even though she knows they'll have to, temporarily, to try it again. ]

[babysitters]

( Steve has shotgunned all sorts of ways. Stephanie Price would make a tunnel with her hand, as if she had to make a point of not getting in kiss distance with anyone but her boyfriend. Carol would get as close as she could manage and waggle her tongue, and if he wasn't lively enough to be ready to dodge her she'd try to suck it out of his mouth solely to piss Tommy off. he's even been shotgunned a time or two; it was the big laugh of the back to school rager his sophomore year when Ally March accidentally missed and smoked out his eyeballs instead.

he's always liked it. what can he say. something intimate about it, the visceral knowledge of sharing oxygen. proof of it, even, disappearing slowly even after the moment was over. but it became less appealing after... well, after everything. as much as Steve tried to push Nancy into having fun and forgetting about things a little while, it just felt different to show up at parties after he'd seen a faceless monster nearly eat Jonathan Byers. seen Nancy stern and serious and somehow still obviously terrified from the wrong side of a gun. parties sort of weren't as fun, after you own up to a girl dying at the last one you threw.

and he definitely didn't feel like much of a party animal senior year.

so he hasn't done this in awhile and specifically, he's never done it with Nancy. and really it shouldn't be that different. only, it is. because it's just the two of them, there's not a party in full roar around them. because it's Nancy and he's always been a little to aware of her mouth. and they've kissed here or there since The Breakup but they've never had such a prime opportunity to tempt fate. and they'd certainly never had the opportunity to tempt fate high, a state of bliss where it was downright expected to chase things that felt good.

Nancy's had two hits, now, he should probably give her a berth to see if it sticks. but now that the idea of kissing her with the smoke mingling in both of them is stuck in his head, there's just no way to not do it. and he doesn't seem to be the only one that thinks so, with Ms. Better Better over here. it might not actually be funny, but Steve huffs a laugh anyway.

he doesn't pull back so much as nuzzle slightly to the side, so he can get another drag from the joint. Steve lets his grip shift from Nancy's chin to dip in her hair, the curls at the nape of her neck. it's always been easiest to guide her head where he wants it from there. he doesn't have to move her so much as hold her, but the pressure is important too. because the whole idea of putting his mouth to hers is to create a seal, nowhere for the smoke to go. ...well, that's half of the idea. the other half is definitely just to kiss her. )

[keenely]

[ it's probably not super helpful, the way she's smiling into the kiss for the first couple seconds before parting her lips to inhale, but she can't really help it. probably because they're technically breaking more rules right now, even if they are self imposed. so rebellious. and nancy isn't totally sure why she's still keeping her hands to herself at this point, she just knows it's not actually in an effort to try and behave, or anything. she definitely doesn't feel nervous about doing it wrong either, if not just because steve's doing all the heavy lifting for her now. but still, he's slipping his fingers through her hair and holding her in that way to makes it easy so to relax, and the best she can seem to manage is switching from messing with her own shirt, to messing with the scrunched up fabric of steve's sweatpants, at the bend of his knee.

well. she starts out that way, at least.

eventually her inhale reaches its limit, and maybe she's supposed to turn away to exhale whatever's left, but- she doesn't. her lips part, and she does manage to wait a short moment for the rest of the smoke to slip away, but that's clearly secondary on her list of priorities once she's pressing in closer, kissing him harder. hold onto his shoulder again, squeezing, enough that her nails drag over his t-shirt a little. it's nothing rushed, not really, but there's no good explanation for the way she pulls his lower lip with her teeth before licking into his mouth and chasing down a deeper kiss, besides the fact that she just wants to. because it feels good. and because they- deserve it, or whatever it was steve just said before.

under normal circumstances, nancy would probably be sliding onto his lap by now, or sinking her fingers in his hair to tug, or- or something. it's been a while, okay? she's relearning the steps. but instead of anything familiar, she whines quietly against his mouth, then tips her face so she's sort of nosing at his cheek, but it's really just the result of being too lazy to properly sit back to take a breath yet ]

Whoa. [ too lazy, or too dizzy, the jury's still out. it's not a bad dizzy, which is weird to think, but the grip on his shoulder hasn't let up, and it's definitely because it's helping her stay focused on just, like, taking a proper breath. like she really needs to think about it, for a second. and she's still, like, 80% sure she's not magically, suddenly very high, but is she very caught up in what they're doing? yeah. definitely. ] Mmh. [ kissing him after humming thoughtfully, like she's decided it's time to try and make sense of what she's feeling, probably doesn't totally add up? but it does to her. it adds up. steve's a good kisser. they're really good at this, from a team effort perspective. it's worth prolonging the slight lightheaded feeling she's experiencing to keep kissing him, she thinks. ]

[babysitters]

( are they breaking rules? objectively, yes — his mother hasn't been home past a long weekend in months, but she hates it when he smokes in the house. cigarettes, that is — weed would be an even bigger issue, seeing as it's illegal. and his dad already busted him once. hard to worry much about his parents when he barely sees them. they left him to fend for himself, even after the insane "earthquake", so ... Steve feels like he can smoke wherever he wants, actually.

subjectively, or if that isn't the right word for it, specifically in the interests of taking it slow — surely, this isn't breaking any rules. it's just a kiss! and he'd been needling, practically begging! Nancy to come over so they could fool around. it is not breaking any rules, by Steve's estimation, to do exactly what he wanted her to come over to do. and considering what a tease she'd been in the kitchen, he's actually kinda glad that she walked right into mouth-to-mouth shotgunning. because he's been needing to do this even more than he'd needed to eat something. and he'd really been jonesing for that sandwich before Nancy got here.

it's just straight breath, no smoke, that gets exhaled when Nancy's teeth hint at his lip. is it weird, to have missed how bitey Nancy Wheeler could be? maybe. kind of. chances are good. he did, though. she's never been afraid to mark him up a little, be rough and raw about wanting him. and holy shit is it hot. about as hot as her smiling into his kiss and her fingers toiling in his shirt. ...okay so maybe a little tweaked, everything Nancy does is hot. that's half the fun of fooling around high, everything is heightened and more and better. case in point, how easily breathless and desperate he feels, when a kiss that felt endless and too short all at once eventually ends. whoa is most certainly right.

this is the part where he should tell Nancy that they need to ease off the gas. joint wise, anyway, let her see how hard it is gonna hit her before she takes anymore. instead, she gives him a mmh and oh thank god, she's kissing him again. and what's he supposed to do, not kiss back? not happening. no way. it is slightly dangerous to let a lit cigarette dangle between his fingers to focus intensely on the taste of Nancy's mouth. which is a mix of weed and cheese and burnt and toothpaste, because she definitely brushed her teeth for this. which is hot, too. right? that's sexy, that she came here distinctly aware she was going to kiss him.

he's slow to pull back for air, mostly because he doesn't want to. eventually, though, he has to. if only to stub out what they've started of the joint (they can come back to it later) and give up on whatever distance Nancy thinks they have to preserve. they can still take it slow with her in his lap, Steve decided it just now. ) Mmh-hmm, ( he agrees, in a delayed response that is actually just further mumbling. he has to nuzzle upward to kiss her, now, which is actually kinda perfect. the smattering of kisses he gives her now are obviously pointless, there's no smoke feigning a purpose for them. it is difficult to summon the willpower to lean back against the couch to be able to pay attention to Nancy's face, but, somehow Steve manages it. and if he stares at her mouth awhile before he remembers he meant to ask something, then... well, whatever, he likes how red it is, right now. that's all! )

Feeling anything yet? ( he means the weed, Nancy!!! probably. honestly he'll take commentary on if she feels high AND horny. let's not pretend he won't. )

[keenely]

[ nance is too distracted by- everything to be able to take credit for the bare minimum amount of coordination needed to move from the couch to steve's lap without tipping over, even with his hands guiding her there, so it's really just further proof that her steve-specific muscle memory never exactly went away. same goes for the way her hands slide in to rest on either side of his neck, thumbs tucked against his jaw to keep him at the perfect angle to keep kissing, even after she shuffles her knees forward to more or less completely crowd his space. it's a move that's definitely flirting with the possibility of not-slow, but nobody's ever accused nancy of not seizing an opportunity when she sees it. or creating her own opportunities, as it were.

still, she doesn't protest when he sits back, doesn't try to tug him back up. but she also doesn't allow more space between them than absolutely necessary too catch their breath and talk either. she sits on his thighs, wiggles her butt until he gives her enough space between them to settle lower, eye level with him, her hands rest flat on his chest. at first, at least. before she even notices her fingers moving, she's gently fussing again with his shirt again, this time tracing along the soft curve of his collar. hm.

she looks back up in time to catch him looking at her mouth, which just makes her pull her bottom lip between her teeth before smiling. ]

Am I feeling anything? M'feeling- things, sure. [ she's not sure she gave her voice permission to drop into that tone, but... oh well. to someone she's never hooked up with, it might just sound like a sort of lazy, sleepy tone. but it's definitely not actually that. ] I feel... cozy. Relaxed. Safe. [ maybe a little too real for the moment, but it's true. she can feel the way her guard is slowly dropping in a way it normally doesn't, but she's not worried like she might usually be. safe. if she were more self aware, "easily distracted" would be on that list, but as it were, she's too busy letting her gaze drop down to where her hands are up on his shoulders again, like she has to watch as her wrists turn inward, fingers curled so she can lightly drag her nails up his neck, then back down again. ] S'nice. But I dunno- What is it supposed to feel like..? Being high. Because I mean, if this is what the fuss is all about? Smoking without your very helpful help would be pretty damn boring. [ she giggles laughs, drags her nails up the back of his neck again, up into his hair a little bit this time, before pulling back down ] I'm bored, Steve. [ no she's not!! but she's not about to admit the main thing she's feeling right now is crazy turned on ]

[babysitters]

( it seems like she's feeling it. at least a little. her reactions seem to be a hair slow, her attention fixating here, and then there, shifting languid as molasses. staring at her fingers is pretty classic I'm feeling something, actually. first time he got high, he'd found his own fingers astonishing. they could do so much, feel so much. watching them do things was strangely fascinating in a way they just weren't sober. turns out watching Nancy's fingers do things is also strangely fascinating, though, he's always liked watching her fingers so maybe that's not that surprising.

Steve's brow lifts at that tone, palms spreading a little higher up Nancy's thighs. how long have they been there? he can't remember, isn't important, not really. ) That so, ( Steve says, mildly, in response to her feeling things. he's less reserved when she explains the things — cozy, relaxed, safe. all of those are good. his mouth tilts up, a distant smile. maybe not that distant. it just feels that way, because he's seeing Nancy more than he's seeing himself. that makes sense, in his head. )

For me everything just feels more. Feels better. ( he shrugs, slightly, because that doesn't really sell the sensation of warm and liquid and languid and good that well, but maybe Nancy will get there and she'll just get it and he won't have to use words to try and explain the inexplicable. ) Bored, ( Steve repeats, with a laugh. he shifts his chin up to kiss whatever part of Nancy's face he can reach, ends up with the tip of her nose. ) Bored.

( well, they'll have to do something about that, won't they. Steve isn't bored at all, he thinks he could kiss every inch of Nancy's face, count all her eyelashes, and feed her peppermint patties and pet her hair and still be completely content with the situation at hand. but he's flexible, they can't have Nancy bored. )

[keenely]

[ nancy gives him a quick nodnodnod in response to that so? but otherwise she's sort of in her own little world, even while she babbles at him, traces lines along his neck and the bend of his shoulders. everything kinda does feel more, she realizes, after he puts it that way. she's not sure if she thinks everything feels better, though. she hasn't decided on anything so concrete just yet. but it's easy to commit to feeling "more". she feels different, for sure.

he kisses her nose and she goes crosseyed again for a split second, nose crinkling. he's laughing. which is good, because she was trying to be funny, actually. and it makes her laugh, too. so she preens a bit, squirms again, but this time it's to bump her knees on either side his thighs until he brings them closer together, so she's sitting up higher than him again.

and she's sure she had an epic conclusion to the plan that required her to be at this taller angle, but it's completely escaped her by the time she's there. ah well. she's already distracted again, reaching up to very carefully use just the tip of her finger to coax a particularly rebellious lock of his hair back into its rightful place in the swoosh. the swoosh that should probably drop in front of his eyes more often, but just- doesn't. defying gravity. or maybe just obeying the laws of farrah fawcett. either one.

of course, it's very possible nancy's about to fuck that all up with the way one careful finger suddenly turns into four of them pushing into that swoosh, combing it back. she didn't need to, it was perfectly imperfect the way it was, but. his hair is really soft. and falls back into place in a way that just makes her want to dig her fingers back into it again. nicely!! but. not super considerate to any time he might have spent styling it at the start of the day.

especially once her slow finger combing slips into a bit of a grip at the crown of his head, guiding him to tip his head back as she sits up on her knees over him. she bumps his nose with hers, even brushes her lips against his too, but doesn't actually complete the final step needed to be properly smooching him again. she seems more focused on fucking around with his hair, still. ]

Bored.

[ pronounced: buh-ore-duh. at least she grins after she says it this time. which conveniently puts her teeth right where they need to be to bite his lip again. so, she'll be doing that. ]

[babysitters]

( Steve is pretty particular about his hair. it'd be easy to assume that he would be pretty particular about who touches it, and how. it doesn't actually turn out that way. well, maybe that's not completely fair. random dudes trying to razz him? no, no hair touching, no thank you. girls he's flirting with? maybe. girls he's making out with? oh, yes, definitely. there's something satisfying in being disheveled, by fingers knotted in his hair. Steve likes it only in very specific, niche situations. it just turns out this is one of them.

though, he didn't really know he'd be into Nancy playing with his hair, just because, until it happened. he tilts into the soft pull of her fingers, a little like a cat nuzzling toward attention. usually it's more of heat of the moment thing, than just teasing and toying. no purpose really at all. well, a little purpose. she plays with his hair and then tilts his head back, her spare hand knotted in the strands that are a little too long-shaggy at the back of his neck.

she doesn't go as far as smooching him, granted, but that doesn't stop his brain from filling in memories of times she has. there's a few choice memories of Nancy pressed against him like this, hands knotted in his hair as she hovers above his lap long enough for him to deal with the fact there's too much fabric between them at the moment. it's definitely been years since that has been an issue for them, fair enough! he just didn't forget how this felt, is all. not in all that time.

he's just a little distracted, thusly, when Nancy insists she is buh-ore-duh. the pull of her teeth isn't helping on the distraction front, at all. is he a beat late to answer? maybe. have his hand shifted from her hips to somewhere by her ribs, distinctly underneath her shirt? definitely. ) What are we gonna do about it, huh? ( he's got an idea. just the one. if tilting his chin up enough to kiss her isn't gonna entertain her, then he's out of suggestions. he'll tease for a taste of her smile, because he didn't quite get his tongue in her mouth when they kissed in the kitchen. seems like it has a shot of keeping her attention. )