[ there's no reasonable explanation for the way her breath catches when he dips down to kiss her considering she's the one that smashed apart that already very fragile boundary, but when she takes a second to think about it later, she'll realize it's because she's missed this very steve-harrington-specific affection more than she's let herself think about. the way he has this impossible ability to rile up the butterflies that are reserved for first kisses only is part of it, because once they kick up a fuss, there's no stopping the way she smiles against his lips right before she lifts up into it with a press of her teeth. she won't lean against him yet, she's so got this, she's just pressing her hands against his chest ( then sliding one of them up to curl her fingers over his shoulders, and the other at the back of his neck ) because... well, what else is she supposed to do with her hands? not touch him? don't be ridiculous.
the next time she ends up interrupting their kiss with a smile, it evolves into a sort of bubbly laugh that she had no say in, so she presses her lips against his harder, like that might stop it, but no such luck. gravity beats her hormones and puts her back flat on her feet again, but it's fine. she's taking the opportunity to wind her arms tight around his middle, her forehead tipping to rest right in the middle of his chest, giving her a place to hide until she convinces those butterflies to chill the fuck out and stop making her giggle like she did the minute she was alone after the first time he kissed her. she's pretty sure it's not cute anymore!!
she huffs a breath before tipping her chin up again, which means she's sort of talking to his chin from this close, but that's okay. it's a great chin. ]
We should drive somewhere. [ a beat ] Do you think 2am breakfast will taste the same at 2pm? Or would that be too weird at this point? [ she grins, her head tipping to the side even though she hasn't leaned back yet. ] Do you think that diner even exists once the sun comes up?
( it's been a long time. since he could kiss Nancy Wheeler. there was a strong chance that it just wouldn't have the same spark it used to — there's all sorts of distance and damage and disaster between them. maybe it could have clouded how it feels to kiss her. maybe it was just anticipation and grass-is-greener yearning clouding his judgement. still, it takes exactly one kiss to lambast that idea. two, technically, the point is him being less inclined to kiss Nancy because of their complicated past is immediately dead in the water. he still gets the same warm fuzzy cookies-just-out-of-the-oven feeling when she smiles and tilts her chin up to make sure their mouths meet just so. only about 180 seconds have passed since Steve was hyper aware of Karen Wheeler snooping from behind her curtains, and now nothing matters but this moment and Nancy's fingers still curved around his wrist. the fact he can lean down and kiss her and that's just a thing, again.
Steve has dreamed of getting to kiss Nancy Wheeler again. a little too much to be healthy or practical, probably. but here it is. and it's even better than he could have hoped for, somehow. her titter of a laugh is about how his heartbeat feels. light and unsure and delighted and disbelieving. can heartbeats be disbelieving? well, consider this the first time, then.
it can't last forever. they can't get lost in a storm of kisses, this is a very public avenue and Mrs. Jensen is just across the street working in her flowerbed. Steve is lucky Nancy is the one that comes to her senses first, because he's not sure he ever would. she pulls back, winds arms around him, face tucked in the fabric of his shirt. she's talking, mumbling, something something pancakes — Steve is delayed in comprehending any of it, arm settling over her shoulders and face ducking down into her hair, momentarily overwhelmed. it almost feels unreal, that this could be happening. maybe he should scout out for the freaky psychic that ambles around looking like somebody skinned the grinch. but Vecna likes to make you see ugly things, doesn't he? and this isn't ugly. it's a rare shot of sunshine, a moment of unbridled promise. a second chance, maybe. so as unreal as it might feel, it sure seems like this is actually happening. )
No, definitely different. Better or worse, can't decide. ( it'll either be better for being close to a normal human being, rested and all that — or worse, because strung out 2am insomnia brain isn't firing on all cylinders and isn't to hard to impress. Steve huffs a laugh, at the idea an entire truckstop disappears into the ether when it isn't the midnight hour. ) We better find out. For science. You know?
( so, yes. a drive. somewhere. anywhere. at this point, doesn't really matter where, as long as it is with Nancy. )
no subject
Date: 2023-01-15 05:35 am (UTC)the next time she ends up interrupting their kiss with a smile, it evolves into a sort of bubbly laugh that she had no say in, so she presses her lips against his harder, like that might stop it, but no such luck. gravity beats her hormones and puts her back flat on her feet again, but it's fine. she's taking the opportunity to wind her arms tight around his middle, her forehead tipping to rest right in the middle of his chest, giving her a place to hide until she convinces those butterflies to chill the fuck out and stop making her giggle like she did the minute she was alone after the first time he kissed her. she's pretty sure it's not cute anymore!!
she huffs a breath before tipping her chin up again, which means she's sort of talking to his chin from this close, but that's okay. it's a great chin. ]
We should drive somewhere. [ a beat ] Do you think 2am breakfast will taste the same at 2pm? Or would that be too weird at this point? [ she grins, her head tipping to the side even though she hasn't leaned back yet. ] Do you think that diner even exists once the sun comes up?
no subject
Date: 2023-01-29 08:27 pm (UTC)Steve has dreamed of getting to kiss Nancy Wheeler again. a little too much to be healthy or practical, probably. but here it is. and it's even better than he could have hoped for, somehow. her titter of a laugh is about how his heartbeat feels. light and unsure and delighted and disbelieving. can heartbeats be disbelieving? well, consider this the first time, then.
it can't last forever. they can't get lost in a storm of kisses, this is a very public avenue and Mrs. Jensen is just across the street working in her flowerbed. Steve is lucky Nancy is the one that comes to her senses first, because he's not sure he ever would. she pulls back, winds arms around him, face tucked in the fabric of his shirt. she's talking, mumbling, something something pancakes — Steve is delayed in comprehending any of it, arm settling over her shoulders and face ducking down into her hair, momentarily overwhelmed. it almost feels unreal, that this could be happening. maybe he should scout out for the freaky psychic that ambles around looking like somebody skinned the grinch. but Vecna likes to make you see ugly things, doesn't he? and this isn't ugly. it's a rare shot of sunshine, a moment of unbridled promise. a second chance, maybe. so as unreal as it might feel, it sure seems like this is actually happening. )
No, definitely different. Better or worse, can't decide. ( it'll either be better for being close to a normal human being, rested and all that — or worse, because strung out 2am insomnia brain isn't firing on all cylinders and isn't to hard to impress. Steve huffs a laugh, at the idea an entire truckstop disappears into the ether when it isn't the midnight hour. ) We better find out. For science. You know?
( so, yes. a drive. somewhere. anywhere. at this point, doesn't really matter where, as long as it is with Nancy. )