( well, for starters, Steve would definitely let Nancy down a little easier than a "you know what? nope". because it's not like he really has hard and fast rules, here, about what slow means. he figures he'll know it when he sees it. feels it. that connecting again as two people was a slow progression. slower than a couple harried makeout meetings in the bathroom and under some bleachers moving into going all the way before Nancy was even ready to tell people they were dating. he just... he doesn't want to mess things up, that's all. there's little chance of a girl getting eaten in his pool this time around, even he knows that. so fucking it up just to get laid sooner would absolutely be the biggest regret of his life. and he was a little sailor boy at an incredibly popular mall for two months, so he knows what it's like to have regrets, safe to say!
and her taking off her shirt doesn't sound the klaxon of too fast, either. in fact, he's bizarrely certain that this is the perfect time, and way, to see more of her again. he's not drunk, there's no chance of being sloppy, the memory of her getting blurry on him by morning. he's swimming into that delightful stage of everything being stretched out and somehow more wonderful by exactly how much he can perceive it and enjoy it. Steve thinks he could sit here admiring all the lines and angles and curves that make Nancy Wheeler until long after his buzz has faded. if he weren't a little lit it'd be hard to handle Nancy, suddenly shirtless, without wanting to be shirtless too. without needing more, like skin on skin and her arms and legs wound around him and those noises she makes when his fingers or his cock sink inside her.
this is already more, all on it's own. which is impossible to explain, especially when he's not particularly sober anymore. high on grass or high on being in this moment with Nancy, hard to say exactly. probably a combination of both.
his fingers are wandering, traveling the familiar bumps of her ribcage like a piano he hasn't played in awhile. he makes a mumbled noise of amused complaint at her bite-y little kisses, because if she tucks in against his neck it is practically impossible to look at her. and it's not like that was a thought that was aired out loud, so maybe it isn't fair to hold her lack of compliance against her. still, shouldn't she know? when has he not wanted to look at her, eat her up with his eyes as much as his mouth? some things just never change. )
Missed me, ( he repeats, turning the words over on his own tongue like he needs to revel in them twice. maybe he does. he strokes a long path up her side, then along her back, across the sharp notches of her spine. just a lazy fingertip, even as he leans momentarily into the wild mane of curls at his shoulder. ) Missed you, ( he agrees, inarticulate, but important. but, since they're on the topic of missing, ) Let me see you, ( he asks, begs maybe. did he mean for it to sound that pouty? not really. did it happen anyway? yeah. it did. )
[ he repeats her - missed me - and she doesn't actually think that it was his attempt of asking her for confirmation without actually asking, but she still responds with another lazy ] Mmmhm. [ this time pressed against his throat with a kiss. and there's a slight chance that under different circumstances, she would be a little annoyed with herself for telling him that, like this, on his lap and trying to remember why she can't spend the next fifteen minutes sucking bruises in places his shirt collar has no chance of being able to cover up. because- well, because they're trying to do things a little different this time. and admitting that she's missed being with him like this, missed the way he kisses her and holds her, feels like a reckless step in a different different direction.
but right now she just feels pretty damn great about admitting it. coming clean about missing him in a dirty way, and in a regular way. she's more than happy to let him know. because the best part of it all is that he's right here with her, and she's right here with him, so there's no reason to keep missing him anymore. and it's surprisingly easy to convince herself that she'll never actually have to suffer through missing steve harrington ever again, moving forward, too. so, that's great!
which is a display of lofty confidence from the girl that plans on attending college in a different time zone than hawkins in less than a year, but for now? it's just the greatest thing.
... no, it's the second greatest thing. the actual greatest thing is the way it feels like the path his fingers are tracing over her skin almost lingers somehow, like there's a reverb of feeling stringing along behind it. oh, wait! no. no, no. hearing him say it back! that's the actual greatest thing. hm. both.
he does sound like he's pouting, and she can feel the corners of her mouth curve down in a sympathetic pout of her own. but... she isn't moving to sit back just yet, so he wouldn't even know she was pouting too unless he could feel the difference when she kisses his neck again. meanwhile, she can feel the way he's nosing at her hair, like he's trying to get closer to her, maybe, too impatient to just wait for her to sit up, so she settles her hand on the back of his neck, like maybe the light drag of her nails at the nape of his neck will make up for the fact that she's still basically hiding from him.
but eventually she picks her head back up, slowly, in case he's still right there. and no, she actually doesn't realize that her eyes aren't exactly open wide at the moment, mostly because she's too distracted by- well, him. and everything about his face. she's admiring him, and she's not even trying to hide it, either. especially once her eyes finally meet his, properly, and all she can manage to do at first is smile softly, then lean in to gently rub the tip of her nose against his. because bunny kisses are always appropriate, even when nancy kind of wants to spend the next two hours making out and getting handsy with the guy she's sharing said bunny kisses with. ]
M'right here, Steve. See? [ she almost manages to sell the sincerity of it - like maybe she was actually concerned that he just couldn't see her there, somehow - but it falls short when she follows it with a goofy grin and... a giggle? was that a giggle? ] Hi.
( Nancy is thinking really big about this. frankly, big thinking is not on the agenda anymore for Steve. big thinking isn't his thing at the best of times, and on weed his brain seems to fade out entirely. keep it simple, stupid. and Nancy's overheated skin curved close, her mouth twisted into a smile against his neck, and the way she nuzzles into him, those goddamn eskimo kisses — all of it is a lot to focus on. the idea of slow is completely lost on him, frankly, it's a shot in the dark that he can't hardly remember it ever happened. it works out just fine, though, because it doesn't feel possible to accomplish anything quickly right about now.
he might be pouting. a little. he didn't think it was an unreasonable request. maybe that's not fair? he's seen Nancy in ... all sorts of stages of undress. mostly in the dark. it had felt like a moment, that night, when she called his name. trusted him enough to really let him see her. damp hair and unsure eyes and the sharp nip of her waist. and yes, of course it'd been more than that. her breasts, propped up in a bra at first and then nothing but her and skin. and even then that was short lived — her arms wound around herself, and then his were around her, too, because in the thrill of that moment, he couldn't quite help himself.
(Steve has decided to forgive and forget a lot of the shit Byers got up to, but taking pictures of Nancy in that moment she was so hesitant to share even with him? yeah, he's not forgiven or forgotten that.)
it might actually be a lot. to ask to see her. ask to see her now, in the middle of his den. it's not dark. there's no sheets to hide behind. so maybe she needs a bit to work up to it. that's fine, actually. while he still can't see all of her when she's this close, he can still see hints. and even that is a lot, somehow. building up to it doesn't change the fact they're here. that she trusts him again, like she did once. that she wants him, like this. and it can't just be the pot making everything feel like a lot, right now. Steve is pretty sure it just is a lot, actually.
so it is nice to have the soft filter on all of it, with the buzz in his veins. it's a lot, but he's got time for it all. it is a strangely balanced way of re-exploring each other, with time all spread out from the THC starting to bounce around in his system. )
Hi, ( Steve agrees, amused by the giggles and the ridiculousness of worrying he's like a Jurassic Park dinosaur that can't see what's right in front of him. has he entirely forgotten how to form his own unique sentences? no, and also, maybe. she's still pressed in too close to really see, but not too close to touch. tracing fingers along her clavicle and letting them slowly fall toward her heartbeat, drum over a mole he knows is there, even if it's been... years? since he got to see it, up close and personal. he kisses the corner of her mouth, bites a little at her jaw. only slightly petulant, because of course he wants to see more, but he can do it on Nancy's time. ) I think, ( he tells her, somewhat serious, voice a rumble against her skin, ) I might be the luckiest guy in the world.
( it's weird, to be the luckiest and unluckiest, all at once. a rare and truly dubious honor. he's unlucky for all sorts of reasons, but how unlucky can he really be if they're here together now? when he puts it like that, his luck just can't be that bad. )
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Date: 2023-03-19 04:42 am (UTC)and her taking off her shirt doesn't sound the klaxon of too fast, either. in fact, he's bizarrely certain that this is the perfect time, and way, to see more of her again. he's not drunk, there's no chance of being sloppy, the memory of her getting blurry on him by morning. he's swimming into that delightful stage of everything being stretched out and somehow more wonderful by exactly how much he can perceive it and enjoy it. Steve thinks he could sit here admiring all the lines and angles and curves that make Nancy Wheeler until long after his buzz has faded. if he weren't a little lit it'd be hard to handle Nancy, suddenly shirtless, without wanting to be shirtless too. without needing more, like skin on skin and her arms and legs wound around him and those noises she makes when his fingers or his cock sink inside her.
this is already more, all on it's own. which is impossible to explain, especially when he's not particularly sober anymore. high on grass or high on being in this moment with Nancy, hard to say exactly. probably a combination of both.
his fingers are wandering, traveling the familiar bumps of her ribcage like a piano he hasn't played in awhile. he makes a mumbled noise of amused complaint at her bite-y little kisses, because if she tucks in against his neck it is practically impossible to look at her. and it's not like that was a thought that was aired out loud, so maybe it isn't fair to hold her lack of compliance against her. still, shouldn't she know? when has he not wanted to look at her, eat her up with his eyes as much as his mouth? some things just never change. )
Missed me, ( he repeats, turning the words over on his own tongue like he needs to revel in them twice. maybe he does. he strokes a long path up her side, then along her back, across the sharp notches of her spine. just a lazy fingertip, even as he leans momentarily into the wild mane of curls at his shoulder. ) Missed you, ( he agrees, inarticulate, but important. but, since they're on the topic of missing, ) Let me see you, ( he asks, begs maybe. did he mean for it to sound that pouty? not really. did it happen anyway? yeah. it did. )
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Date: 2023-03-19 09:39 am (UTC)but right now she just feels pretty damn great about admitting it. coming clean about missing him in a dirty way, and in a regular way. she's more than happy to let him know. because the best part of it all is that he's right here with her, and she's right here with him, so there's no reason to keep missing him anymore. and it's surprisingly easy to convince herself that she'll never actually have to suffer through missing steve harrington ever again, moving forward, too. so, that's great!
which is a display of lofty confidence from the girl that plans on attending college in a different time zone than hawkins in less than a year, but for now? it's just the greatest thing.
... no, it's the second greatest thing. the actual greatest thing is the way it feels like the path his fingers are tracing over her skin almost lingers somehow, like there's a reverb of feeling stringing along behind it. oh, wait! no. no, no. hearing him say it back! that's the actual greatest thing. hm. both.
he does sound like he's pouting, and she can feel the corners of her mouth curve down in a sympathetic pout of her own. but... she isn't moving to sit back just yet, so he wouldn't even know she was pouting too unless he could feel the difference when she kisses his neck again. meanwhile, she can feel the way he's nosing at her hair, like he's trying to get closer to her, maybe, too impatient to just wait for her to sit up, so she settles her hand on the back of his neck, like maybe the light drag of her nails at the nape of his neck will make up for the fact that she's still basically hiding from him.
but eventually she picks her head back up, slowly, in case he's still right there. and no, she actually doesn't realize that her eyes aren't exactly open wide at the moment, mostly because she's too distracted by- well, him. and everything about his face. she's admiring him, and she's not even trying to hide it, either. especially once her eyes finally meet his, properly, and all she can manage to do at first is smile softly, then lean in to gently rub the tip of her nose against his. because bunny kisses are always appropriate, even when nancy kind of wants to spend the next two hours making out and getting handsy with the guy she's sharing said bunny kisses with. ]
M'right here, Steve. See? [ she almost manages to sell the sincerity of it - like maybe she was actually concerned that he just couldn't see her there, somehow - but it falls short when she follows it with a goofy grin and... a giggle? was that a giggle? ] Hi.
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Date: 2023-04-08 07:15 am (UTC)he might be pouting. a little. he didn't think it was an unreasonable request. maybe that's not fair? he's seen Nancy in ... all sorts of stages of undress. mostly in the dark. it had felt like a moment, that night, when she called his name. trusted him enough to really let him see her. damp hair and unsure eyes and the sharp nip of her waist. and yes, of course it'd been more than that. her breasts, propped up in a bra at first and then nothing but her and skin. and even then that was short lived — her arms wound around herself, and then his were around her, too, because in the thrill of that moment, he couldn't quite help himself.
(Steve has decided to forgive and forget a lot of the shit Byers got up to, but taking pictures of Nancy in that moment she was so hesitant to share even with him? yeah, he's not forgiven or forgotten that.)
it might actually be a lot. to ask to see her. ask to see her now, in the middle of his den. it's not dark. there's no sheets to hide behind. so maybe she needs a bit to work up to it. that's fine, actually. while he still can't see all of her when she's this close, he can still see hints. and even that is a lot, somehow. building up to it doesn't change the fact they're here. that she trusts him again, like she did once. that she wants him, like this. and it can't just be the pot making everything feel like a lot, right now. Steve is pretty sure it just is a lot, actually.
so it is nice to have the soft filter on all of it, with the buzz in his veins. it's a lot, but he's got time for it all. it is a strangely balanced way of re-exploring each other, with time all spread out from the THC starting to bounce around in his system. )
Hi, ( Steve agrees, amused by the giggles and the ridiculousness of worrying he's like a Jurassic Park dinosaur that can't see what's right in front of him. has he entirely forgotten how to form his own unique sentences? no, and also, maybe. she's still pressed in too close to really see, but not too close to touch. tracing fingers along her clavicle and letting them slowly fall toward her heartbeat, drum over a mole he knows is there, even if it's been... years? since he got to see it, up close and personal. he kisses the corner of her mouth, bites a little at her jaw. only slightly petulant, because of course he wants to see more, but he can do it on Nancy's time. ) I think, ( he tells her, somewhat serious, voice a rumble against her skin, ) I might be the luckiest guy in the world.
( it's weird, to be the luckiest and unluckiest, all at once. a rare and truly dubious honor. he's unlucky for all sorts of reasons, but how unlucky can he really be if they're here together now? when he puts it like that, his luck just can't be that bad. )