#Steve Biro | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luveline · 1 year ago

Note

More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate.

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch.

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's…

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here.

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck."

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do.

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand.

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back."

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much?

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling.

"What are you looking for?"

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you.

"Chill out–"

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!"

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling."

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair.

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid."

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?"

"Point it at me, then!"

You stare at him in silence.

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?"

"Don't fucking come down here."

"Or what?" he asks.

"I'll get my gun out."

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist."

"I swear to god–"

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear."

"That's what bad guys say."

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance."

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl."

"Don't say rock and roll."

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch.

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics."

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?"

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter."

"He'll be back soon, then."

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–"

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt."

"Can I have the machete?"

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary."

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes.

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening.

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die."

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help.

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need.

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things.

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say.

"You're not from that place west, are you?"

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?"

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful."

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them."

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?"

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks.

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter.

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says.

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin.

"You're from The College."

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle.

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No."

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building.

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air.

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest.

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best."

"Did he beat her time?"

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it."

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do."

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely.

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?"

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light.

"What time is it?" he asks.

"It's, like, seven in the morning."

"I've been asleep that long?"

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct.

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend.

"Where's Robin?" he asks.

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled."

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes.

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs.

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself."

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation."

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared."

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?"

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks.

"Saving the day, obviously."

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead.

"We're not friends," Steve says.

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?"

"Right here, Stevie."

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp."

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people."

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and–

"Hopper?" Steve asks.

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you."

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks.

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first."

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skybluewritings · 2 months ago

Text

Tell me when did your winning smile become a smirk? Steve Harrington x fem!reader Part 2/2

Warning: Mentions of alcoholism, Sexist language, references to sex

Note: This is part 2! Thank you so much to everyone who read this!

Six years later…

New York, Early June, 1990

She stared at the notepad in her lap, multiple sentences were angrily scrawled out in lines of thick biro. It was a Sunday and she’d purposefully made no plans so she could for once write but several hours later nothing was happening. Pages and pages of paper lay scrunched up around her living room floor. She’d been trying to plan out the same article for the past six months, it turned out being the personal assistant to the editor of a magazine left very little time in the day. And whilst she was of course grateful for work, any work, she had hoped in her spare time she could put to use all of her experience from the job into actually writing something good. Instead, she was left with a sore wrist and a strong case of imposter syndrome.

In her final year of school, she’d decided to apply to NYU to study Journalism. Although they went practically every summer to the east coast her parents were initially unsure about her studying in another country. However, after a trip to New York and visiting NYU they were all for it. Vivienne had called delighted at the news and had suggested she call Steve to give him a nudge in the direction of applying for college. She knew he’d always struggled in school but found it odd he wasn’t even applying? He’d seemed excited growing up at the prospect of college. She never called him but figured by the time she saw him that summer he would’ve gotten in somewhere. The summer came, except Steve wasn’t there, Clyde would barely even mention him, except for the occasional shake of the head and “that son of mine.” She quickly found out he hadn’t applied to any colleges at all and had been deliberately cut from the trip as punishment. Steve didn’t come the following year or the one after that, whilst her feelings towards him were complicated it wasn’t the same without him. The next few summers were less eventful: she’d get through her college summer reading, hang out with Margo and her friends and even finally learn how to surf.

However, this year due to how consuming her job was she doubted she’d even manage any break. She wearily rubbed at her eyes, wishing the words would come to her. Her phone thankfully began to ring and she picked it up to take the call. “Hello?”

“Hi hunny.”

“Hi Vivienne.” She said pleasantly surprised.

“I wanted to know if you’re coming up to the Vineyard for my 50th birthday? It’s on Saturday July 15th, Your mom and dad and everyone’s gonna be there.”

She wondered who everyone was.

“I’m sorry I really wish I could but I’m so tied up at work right now.” She sighed.

“You’re going to work yourself to the bone. Do you not have any time off you can take.”

“I have some…I just don’t know how my boss would feel.”

“Just find out and let me know.” Vivienne told her kindly. “And remember to have fun, you’re only 23 once!”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind!”

“It’s late I’ll let you get to bed star journalist.”

She let out a tired laugh. “Not quite yet.”

“Keep trying sweetie and it’ll pay off, goodnight.”

She really hoped it would too.

“Night.” She replied putting down the phone.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

She spun her conversation with Vivienne over in her head for the next couple weeks. Vivienne had been like a second mother to her growing up and although she’d never admit it, it’d devastate her if (Name) didn’t come. She explained the situation to her boss who admittedly had more empathy than she’d given him credit for, he gave her a week off, going as far to comment that she was a hard worker and everyone needed a vacation. She supposed her hard work had paid off, well sort of.

There she was on Sunday July 9th climbing out of a taxi suitcase in hand. Knowing who was also possibly staying in the house made her slow the walk down the drive way to the front door. She rung the doorbell and thankfully it was Vivienne that answered. In a state of excitement Vivienne made her abandon the suitcase in the hallway and come straight out to the patio where dinner had just been served.

“Look who’s finally here!” Vivienne exclaimed.

Clyde gave her a polite smile and her parents delighted embraced her. Her stomach dropped when the person she’d dreaded seeing appeared.

Steve stood blinking at her for a few seconds. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She said back stiffly.

He looked a little older and if he had been cute before he was now infuriatingly handsome.

They took their seats and didn’t interact for the rest of the meal.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Monday July 10th

Early the next morning she woke up early to go surfing. After dinner Steve had disappeared leaving her to be fussed over by everyone else. When she’d gone to bed she’d heard his bedroom click shut, then that was it. He didn’t even bother playing any music to wind her up.

She surfed a few good waves before deciding to take a break, as she came out of the water wet suit half off, she noticed another person further out. She cupped her palm over her eyes to watch them in the morning light. The person caught an impressive wave and she had to give it to them that they were pretty good. They submerged from the water and swam back to shore. She stopped watching them and instead looked out to sea, the water lapping around her ankles. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that the person was walking towards her. And on closer inspection that the person was Steve. The universe she decided was just plain mean.

“Morning.” She faltered.

“I didn’t realise you surfed.”

“I learnt a while back.” She explained showing him the board.

“That’s cool.”

It felt like they were acting out a script written by aliens. She’d always known all the things she wanted to say to him if she ever saw him again, but now her mind had gone blank.

He push his wet hair away from his face, like her his suit was also around his waist giving her view of his lean muscular torso. She caught him very briefly glance at her chest, his face flushed. Her heart sped up, it was seriously unfair how much he clearly still affected her.

“I feel I should be upfront with you. I know that a lot has happened between us but I think for the sake of your mum, for the next week I’m here we should try be civil.” She suggested.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He agreed and paused. “I just wanted to say that despite everything, it’s really good to see you, seriously.”

She didn’t quite know how to respond, but she knew in that moment she felt the same.

He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna go shower but I’ll see you there.”

Her throat constricted. “Excuse me?”

“I-I meant I’m gonna shower and then I’ll see you back at the house separately to being in the shower. You won’t obviously be in the shower with me..”

As soon as he said this her mind went to exactly that, she closed her eyes for a moment to block out the indecent image.

“Have a good shower...”

“Yep will do.” He said quickly brushing straight past her.

She wished she’d had at least a few hours away from him to shake off the embarrassment of the morning, but that afternoon she found herself on a hike, the parents at the front and her and Steve stuck at the back. She’d kept as much as distance as possible without drawing attention.

“I don’t have the plague y’know.” Steve joked.

She slowed down a little so she ended up walking next to him. “That’s what someone with the plague would say.”

“Would you rather possibly catch a deadly disease or go up there and be asked what your doing with your life?” Steve asked gesturing to where their parents were walking.

The way he was cracking jokes with her was starting to ware down her defences.

“Please don’t.” She sighed. “I’ve already been questioned several times, on when I’m ‘going to get serious’. As if being the assistant to the editor of a prominent magazine isn’t a real job.”

“I’ll do you one better, my dad still hasn’t processed that I’m majoring in graphic design.” Steve dryly told her. “I think he had hopes I would get some kind of business degree and valiantly take over his company.”

“I know it’s long overdue but congratulations on getting into college.”

He smiled a little at her. “Thanks.”

On the horizon was Edgartown, the largest town on Martha’s Vineyard.

“Wanna ditch them?” Steve asked her.

She wasn’t sure being alone with him was the best idea but then again she wasn’t sure how much more she could take of endlessly hiking.

“Sure.” She gingerly replied.

“We’re gonna go hang out in town, we’ll meet you guys back at the house later.” Steve called out to their parents.

They all stopped and looked at both and her Steve in surprise.

“You’re going to spend time together?” Her mum said gesturing to them.

“Yes.” She said.

“You’ll be alone, just the two of you hanging out.”

She stood up straighter. “Yes, yes we are.”

Her mum and dad exchanged a look of confusion. Clyde stared at them blankly.

Vivienne on the other hand was delighted. “Have a lovely time kids! Call the house later if you’re not gonna be back for dinner.”

“Of course they’ll be back for dinner.” Clyde interjected.

“We might not be.” Steve said.

Clyde frowned. “We have a reservations with the Smiths at the country club, their boy Daniel will be there, he’s just graduated from Princeton.”

“And the relevance of that is?” Steve asked flatly.

“I shouldn’t have to explain it to you Steven.”

“Clyde, I think he can miss one dinner.” Vivienne calmly told her husband.

Clyde threw up his hands before walking on ahead. Vivienne didn’t bother to follow and instead walked with (Name’s) parents.

Steve glared at his dad. “Come on let’s go.” He told her.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

There was a market open when they arrived in Edgartown, their hands accidentally brushed sending a sparking sensation across her skin. He glanced at her, she looked away.

“Anywhere you like the look of?” He asked.

“How about over there.” She replied pointing to a cute jewellery stall.

She poured over the selection, the vendor was busy having a conversation with another customer.

She nudged Steve. “I bet that’d look great on me.” She said lowering her voice.

Steve held a chunky skull rung. “You mean this?”

“Obviously.”

He passed it to her and she tried it on, they both tilted their heads inspecting it.

Steve smirked. “It kind of looks like my dad.”

The tension from earlier was eased.

She laughed lightly. “Should we get it for him?”

“That depends,” Steve pretended to think, “on how deeply you value your life.”

She nodded. “Quite a bit actually, I’d rather not end up like this ring.”

She took off the ring and placed back on the table. She then noticed a necklace with a gold chain and blue pendant. She delicately lifted it, the gem twinkling in the light.

“This reminds me of those bracelets we used to have as kids.” She said transfixed by the necklace.

Steve came closer to her and picked up the pendant in admiration. “Unlike those bracelets this probably has more value than some plastic.”

“I liked those bracelets.” She said defensively.

He smiled and shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to say I didn’t like them. Considering they cost a dollar each they were pretty cool.”

She wondered if he’d actually kept his bracelet, hers was in her bedside draw back at the house. She’d taken it off after he’d stopped wearing his and it’d been wedged into a dark corner ever since. They were so close she could make out the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. Growing flustered she moved back from him adjusting the bag on her shoulder.

The vendor a woman of about their age, gazed adoringly at them. “I’m sorry but I just have to say what a cute couple you guys make.” She gushed.

Both her and Steve glanced each other a little alarmed.

“No no, we’re not a couple, he’s a uh” She searched for a word. “Friend? Yeah, a friend.”

“My bad.” Said the vendor apologetically, she then gave Steve a coy look. “In that case-“

“He’s not interested.” She blurted out, the Vendor looked disappointed.

(Name) put the necklace back, Steve raised his brows at her as they both walked away. “How do you know I wasn’t interested?”

“Well, were you?” She asked point blank.

“No, but I might’ve been.”

“Trust me I saved you back there! Do you really want to go out with someone that flirts so brazenly with customers?”

He grinned at her. “What’s wrong with flirting?”

“There’s nothing wrong with flirting, I’m the last person to judge, but just don’t put customers in a position like that.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Right.”

Before she could navigate the rest of the conversation, a saviour came in the form of Margo. Her friend spotted them and excitedly weaved through the crowds.

(Name) gave her a hug. “I thought it wasn’t meant to be seeing you until tomorrow?”

“I felt like getting out the house.” Margo explained, she then noticed Steve. “It’s been a hot second Harrington, how are you? Still using that Farrah Fawcett hair spray.”

Steve looked to (Name) in silent outrage, Margo laughed quietly into the back of her hand.

“You swore you wouldn’t tell anyone.” He fumed.

“In all fairness to me, I didn’t think she’d tell you to your face.” She sheepishly said.

“Margo do not tell anyone.” Steve said firmly.

Margo threw an arm around (Name’s) shoulder. “If you buy us iced coffee right now, I won’t. Deal?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Deal, but if you break it, I’ll literally kill you both.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

When Steve was in the line buying their coffee Margo pulled her aside.

“What on earth is happening?! The last time you were both here one moment you were fighting then the next nearly kissing then not talking, I’m just in shock how you can be so normal around him?” Margo said.

“He apologised to me and we both on moved, there’s nothing more to it.”

“You’re obviously still angry though?”

“Yeah of course I am!”

“Then talk to him.”

She shook her head. “It would just complicate things, that’s way too messy of a thing to do when I’m only here until the end of the week. Me and him aren’t friends we’re being civil, this trip is about giving his mum a really great birthday, not making it all about old teenage drama.”

“And you’re fine with that?”

“Yes.”

Margo narrowed her eyes. “Mhm.”

Steve returned with the ice coffees. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, all good.” She said voice a little too high pitched to be convincing. “Come on let’s go check out the rest of the stalls.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Tuesday July 11th

“I can’t see anything.” Vivienne tutted, adjusting her binoculars and leaning further over the rail of the boat.

“Mom be careful, or you’ll fall off the boat and be swallowed by a whale.” He joked.

Vivienne leant away from the edge. “If they make appearance.”

Today’s activity was whale watching, Martha’s Vineyard only offered private whale watching tours meaning it didn’t come cheap. There had been a polite argument between both her father and Clyde over who should pay, Clyde of course won, it was less about generosity and more about yet another display of wealth.

(Name) was sat at the small table and chair set, a bottle of prosecco in the centre, everyone but Vivienne had helped themselves. No one had mentioned it but so far on the trip she hadn’t seen the woman touch a single drop of alcohol.

“Darling when are we going to talk about it?” Her mum suddenly asked.

She took a sip of prosecco. “About what?”

“About what on earth you’re doing with your life!”

She groaned. “Do we have to do this now?”

“When else are we going to talk about it? Every time I bring it up you won’t talk about it.”

She set her glass down. “What is so bad about my life that you can’t leave alone?”

Her mother frowned. “The fact that after a year you’re still an assistant. An assistant! You were meant for such better things than this. You should’ve gone into law like me and dad, you’ve always had the knack for it, it’s not too late.”

She wished a whale would swallow her.

“I don’t want to do law, as I’ve told you so many times. And I’m an assistant to the editor of a respected publication, I could get promoted any day now.”

“I can’t wait to have this same conversation in another year.” Her mum sniffed.

She got up from the table. “You know what mum be disappointed in me see if I care.”

She went to the other end of the boat, her arms resting on the railing as she watched the propellors twirl through the water.

“You okay?” Steve asked coming to join her.

“I just wish my parents could be proud of me.” She admitted, lowering her eyes.

Steve exhaled heavily “Join the club.”

“Vivienne’s proud of you, there’s no doubt about that.” She looked at him. “Did she send you?”

He shook his head. “No, no one overheard the conversation. I saw you leave looking upset, figured something was up.”

This made her chest tighten. “Oh, well that’s nice of you, thanks.”

“I actually think your job sounds pretty great by the way, I always knew you’d end up doing something with your writing.”

He leant against the railing their arms brushing, but this time she didn’t move away.

“My job is great-amazing even, but I haven’t written anything in a year.”

“A year?” He said in surprise.

“Yeah, not good right? When I’m at work I’m always busy and when I’m not I’m too exhausted to even think about writing.” She sighed. “Enough about me, let’s hear about college.”

“After I got rejected from basically every school I applied to-“

“I thought you didn’t apply to any schools?!”

“I lied to my parents, because I was embarrassed that I was too stupid to get in anywhere.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t say that, you’re not stupid you never were.”

He smiled at her. “Thanks.”

She smiled back at him. “Anytime.”

He glanced down to her hand that was still on his shoulder.

“Sorry.” She said her hand falling away.

His lips parted as he looked at her for a moment.

“You can carry on with your story.” She said shyly.

“Yeah, right.” He laughed nervously, springing back to life. “So, I went to a local community college to get some extra credits, 2 years later I applied to Purdue-the top college in Indianna and I’ve been there ever since.”

Her heart swelled with how proud she was of him.

“And why graphic design as your major and mathematics as a minor?”

“I really want to get into designing video games, the mathematics part is so I can learn coding.”

She dramatically lowered her sunglasses. “Steven are you a-nerd?”

“You’re one to talk.” He scoffed.

“I’m going to spread salacious gossip about you now.” She teased.

He snorted. “Then maybe I’ll have to tell people that you were so scared of the exorcist you slept with a night light until you were 13. I think we’re at a stalemate.”

“You’ve got me there!” She agreed. “But seriously I’m glad you’ve found something you’re passionate about.”

“I used to love going to the arcade growing up, especially when the games had those like animated segments. I like the idea that you can take someone on a journey, where they have control over whether they win or not. If you’d seen the things I have, you’d want a few more wins in life.” Steve explained, his smile fading she wondered what he was talking about but didn’t press him.

She bumped his shoulder with hers. “Well, I think your future job sounds pretty great.” She said repeating his own words.

He bumped her shoulder back. “I promise to remember you when I’m rich and famous.”

She tutted. “And there’s that infamous ego, just when we were having a nice moment.”

“Careful I might feed you to the whales.”

“If we ever see any.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Wednesday July 12th

After the boat trip she’d gone to hang out at Margo’s, in typical fashion her friend pried her for information about Steve. (Name) had relayed their conversation on the boat.

“I think he’s still got feelings for you.” Margo said.

She shook her head. “There’s no way.”

Margo raised a brow. “I don’t know he was ready to threw away his entire relationship for you.”

“That was a long time ago, he was 17 in his first real relationship, he was probably just confused.”

“Then why is he acting so friendly with you now? In fact why are you acting so friendly with him? You like him don’t you! And don’t give me the it’s because we’re being civil crap.”

“I think he’s just missed me and is just happy to see me, despite what we’ve gone through. I feel the same, even if it’s still complicated with him.” (Name) confessed.

“I’m going out with some friends Friday night you guys should both come and I can assess the vibe.” Margo said.

“Assess away, but you’re going to come up empty handed.” She warned.

Following the whale watching, Vivienne had taken her, Steve and her mum to a painting class.

She leant over to Steve and whispered. “Do you think we’re going to have to paint a naked person?”

“If we do, I’m leaving.” He whispered back.

Thankfully there was no nudity and it was instead a bowl of fruit. After half an hour of painting her canvas resembled blobs of colour rather than any object.

“There’s a reason I’m a writer and not an artist.” She joked, then peered at Steve’s canvas. “Wow.”

He smirked. “There’s a reason I’m an artist and not a writer.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

They all arrived back at the house in high spirits and at dinner talked animatedly about the painting class.

“Your son’s a natural Clyde, that graphic design major is paying off.” Her mum said.

“Could you draw me?” Her dad asked Steve.

Steve smiled and nodded. “Yeah probably.”

“I’ve always wanted a hand drawn picture of myself.” Her dad said.

Her mum scoffed. “We can hang it up on the wall like Henry the 8th.”

“I’ll add a crown in too free of charge.” Steve said cheekily, this made her dad chuckle.

He was the exact kind of guy her parents would love for her to bring home. She stopped eating when she realised what she’d thought.

“Don’t encourage him.” Clyde said.

“What’s that supposed to mean dad?” Steve immediately asked.

“That this whole art obsession, is just a phase. I wouldn’t mind if you switched mathematics to your major.”

Steve carried on eating. “No, I like what I’m doing.”

“I was able to accept that you let basketball and football go by the way side and I made peace with the fact that for two years you didn’t bother to apply for college. Then you did go to college and it wasn’t even an ivy league. But if you’re as good at maths as you claim then get a real qualification in it and come work for me after graduation next year.” Clyde implored.

Steve finally looked at his dad. “Did you ever think that maybe I don’t want to live my life exactly like you, that I’m my own person? Business doesn’t interest me, but graphic design does.”

“I’m done trying to guide you, be a disappointment for all I care.” Clyde said bitterly.

“Clyde, I think that’s enough.” Vivienne snapped, everyone went still usually she wasn’t so assertive with him.

“Look at you putting me in my place.” Clyde mocked taking a swig of his wine.

Vivienne glowered at him, she briefly glanced at the bottle of wine but instead drunk her water.

As if by instinct (Name) gently took Steve’s hand under the table. He didn’t look at her but he squeezed her hand back in thanks.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Later that evening she knocked on his bedroom door.

“Come to tell me to turn my music down?” He joked, but the sadness in his eyes gave him away.

“No, I just wanted to see if you were okay?” She asked.

He waved a hand. “That was a regular Wednesday for my dad.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to-“

“I’m fine, I promise.” He told her softly, she nodded knowing when to pick her battles.

“Did you want to go out Friday night with me and Margo?” She asked.

He nodded and managed a smile. “Yeah actually, I’d love to.”

The way he was casually leaning against the door frame and smiling so easily at her, made her head swim. This was the exact moment she realised.

“Nice.” She smiled bashfully. “I’ll let you get back to whatever guy thing you were doing.”

She paused aware of how it sounded, he stifled a laugh.

“Not like that obviously! Not that it’s anything to be ashamed of if you do or don’t-“ She stopped and clapped her hands together. “I’m just going to go to bed, goodnight.”

Once she was safely in her bedroom she buried her burning face in her hands. It was possible that Margo was nearly right, at least about her.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Thursday July 13th

When she woke up the next morning the house was eerily quiet. She went to check the patio that was next to the pool and found it to be devoid of life.

“They’ve gone to some wine tasting festival.”

She jumped out of her skin, Steve sat at the outside table eating cereal.

She put a hand to her chest. “You nearly sent me into cardiac fucking arrest.”

He smirked at her. “Need me to grab my defibrillator?”

She playfully rolled her eyes, then remembered their conversation and her own realisation from the night before. She sat in the furthest chair away from him, he looked a little confused but moved past it.

“What should we do?” Steve asked her.

“We?” She asked intrigued.

“If you feel that way, then never mind.” He said pretending to take offense.

She grinned. “What did you have in mind?”

That was how she found herself surfing competitively against Steve, when he got knocked off by a particularly large wave she laughed so hard her stomach hurt. After a while they sat by the shore to rest.

“I’ve missed being here.” He told her.

“This view never gets old.” She agreed.

He pointed to himself. “You mean this view?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She chuckled splashing some water at him, he grinned at her.

“I’m glad we get to hangout like this again, I’ve really missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She found herself saying.

His face became more serious. “I’m really sorry about what happened 6 years ago, about everything. I’m sorry for ditching you when we were kids and then ignoring you. I was just young and immature, I wanted as dumb as it sounds for other people to see me as one of the guys.”

Her eyes widened hardly believing this conversation was finally happening.

“And having a female friend got in the way of that?”

He shook his head. “No, it was that with you I could share things I couldn’t with anyone else. You made me vulnerable in a way that my dad taught me to be ashamed of, that it was bad if some sort of weakness could be sensed in me. I already struggled in school I didn’t want another reason to not fit in.”

“And unfortunately, our friendship was at the cost of that.” She said quietly.

“I was the literal worst.” He laughed sadly. “I hope you can forgive me, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

She exhaled heavily. “I won’t deny that I’ve spent the past few years so fucking angry with you, but equally and I guess being older gives you more perspective, we were just kids. You made mistakes, I did too. No one is perfect and I think it’s unfair to go your whole life tying yourself in knots because of some shit you did as a teenager.” She smiled at him. “I’ll say it right now, I forgive you.”

He took her hand in his and threaded his fingers through hers. “You’re too good for me, you always were.”

Her heart sped up as he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

What she was starting to feel for him was so enormous it frightened her, she suspected it was possible he may feel the same. Even though he’d changed and she cared about him so much, she didn’t fully trust that he wouldn’t hurt her again. It was safer to keep her feelings to herself and hope they would return to their platonic nature.

The wind had picked up and the waves were getting bigger some people were starting to swim in. She pulled her hand out of his and reached for her surf board.

“I’m going to try my luck.”

“They’re pretty high are you sure it’s safe?”

“I’ll be careful, I promise.” She said warmly.

He let her go, clearly knowing it was pointless to try stop her.

The first wave wasn’t too bad and the second was a little tricky, but then came the third. The water was growing choppier by the second, she heard the life guard blow their whistle. She’d ride this one then go back to shore she thought. The wave crashed over her, sucking her into its’ depths, she fought to swim to the surface as she was thrown about underwater.

She came to the surface gasping for air and barely made it to the sand before she was lying on her back exhausted. A small crowd of people gathered around her.

“Miss, are you alright?” The life guard who was barely 16 asked her.

“Sorry excuse me.” A voice said coming through the crowd, Steve appeared at her side. “Hey it’s me.”

He helped her stand, as she tried to walk a stinging pain went through her leg. The crowd cleared for them as they started to walk away.

“Ow.” She hissed.

“What is it?” He fretted.

She panted. “I think I did something to my leg.”

“Are you able to take your wet suit off?”

The idea of having to bend to peel off the clinging material seemed impossible in that moment.

She shook her head.

“Want me to?” He suggested.

She hesitated, this was the last thing she should let him do as it would infiltrate her every waking thought. But she had no other choice.

“Go for it.” She said hoarsely.

He knelt down and start to pull down the wet suit to reveal her bikini, although he’d seen her in one before she’d never felt so exposed in front of him. He helped her step out of the wet suit.

She peered down, there was a cut just above her knee.

Steve delicately touched the skin just above the cut. “It doesn’t look deep enough to need stiches but it’s gonna need to be cleaned.” He looked up at her.

There was something about seeing him knelt down gazing up at her that made her shiver.

He passed her the wet suit she held it to her chest a little flustered.

“Ready?” Steve said putting his arm around her shoulder.

She nodded. “Yeah.”

She barely even made it one step. “No this isn’t happening. You’re just going to have to leave me, save yourself.” She gasped out.

“I’ve got an idea, put your arms around my neck.”

She did as he asked. “I’m not sure how this is help-woah.” With total ease he lifted her up into arms and carried her down the beach.

“You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet.” She joked.

He let out a tired laugh. “Only you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Steve set her down on the kitchen counter and searched in the cupboard for the first aid kit.

He bought it over to where she was sat. “You’re lucky my mom’s got like five of these lying around.”

“You know I can do it myself, you’ve done more than enough for one day!”

He left the first aid kit next to her, the cut was at an awkward angle. She tried to lean forward to inspect her leg and nearly went toppling off the counter. “Ok maybe you can do a little more.”

He let out a soft huff of amusement.

He poured some disinfectant onto some cotton wood and stood between her legs as he dabbed at the cut, she winced.

“Sorry.” He muttered, then placed a large plaster over the cut. “Done.”

His hands came to rest on the counter either side of her. “How are you feeling?”

He smelt like aftershave and saltwater, it was overwhelming. “Better.” She murmured.

His vision flickered to her lips, if she tilted her head just a little more she’d be kissing him. She leant forward and instead placed a hand on his check quickly kissed it. When she pulled back she noticed a faint blush on his face.

“Thank you for taking care of me I really do appreciate but I think I need to go have a lie down.” She told him, he moved back so she could slide down off the counter top.

He touched where her lips had been. “Yeah see you later.” He said, staring after her.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Friday July 14th

“Mum have you seen my blue dress anywhere?”

“Did you not put it in your laundry basket?” Her mum asked.

“I could’ve sworn I did, maybe I left it in the dryer.” She deduced. “Do you know who dried their clothes after me?”

“I think it was Steve.”

She went to knock on his door but there no answer, she tried again, nothing. She called his name but there was only silence. He was probably somewhere else in the house. She carefully pushed his door and to her delight saw the laundry basket on his bed. That was when she heard the sound of running water being turned off, he was in the god damn bathroom.

“Shit.” She whispered rummaging through his laundry, she had to get out fast.

The bathroom door opened, time almost slow down as she looked over to see him stood there with only a towel hanging dangerously low around his waist.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” She screeched looking away.

“Why are you in my room?!” He asked the pitch rising.

She found the blue dress and grabbed it.

She shielded her eyes as she held up the dress. “I came for this but I’ll uh leave you now, sorry again.” She hurried out the room.

Once in the safety of her room she begun to pace the floor as her mind replayed the events of the past week. When they’d met that first morning on the beach, the necklace at the market, the way he’d look at her on the boat, their conversation by the shore when he’d held her hand, how he’d carried in his arms, how he’d glanced to her lips after dressing her injury and now when she’d seen him in a complete near state of undress.

She was nervous of going out that evening, she was afraid to do something she might regret. She’d always considered herself to have a good handle on most situations, but in the face of the inevitable did she have any control?

A couple hours later she’d managed to compose herself and was sat in a taxi on the way to meet Margo at the bar. She’d been unable to look Steve in the eye.

She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about earlier, I didn’t think anyone was in your bedroom.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t a big deal.” He told her kindly.

She pat his arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself I didn’t see much but it certainly was a big-“

She saw the mild shock on his face. “Oh you meant the situation.” She let her hands fall into her lap.

Tonight was going to be a challenge.

He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Anyway, what are Margo’s friends like.” He said changing the subject.

“They’re nice, I think you met them that time at the beach bonfire back when we were 17.”

“I remember that.” He wrinkled his nose. “That’s when Tommy went streaking.”

“If it helps he didn’t have a big deal.” She nervously joked and to her relief after a few seconds he actually laughed.

“So you and Steve? I think I was right.” Margo slyly said whilst they were waiting for their drinks at the bar.

She nodded. “Yeah you were spot on, I like him.”

Margo slapped (Name’s) shoulder. “I fucking knew you liked him!”

“Keep your voice!” She pleaded. “He doesn’t know I have feelings for him and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Why though? He obviously likes you.”

“I’m going back to New York in two days and he’ll be back in Indiana soon.”

“It doesn’t need to be anything serious. You work your ass off all the time why not have some fun for once?” Margo cackled.

“It would be a very very bad idea, because I’d want it to be more than just some fling. If we hook up, I’m not getting over that, it’ll really hurt me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to just hook up?”

“He’s a 23 year old guy Margo that’s all they want to do. He’s different now sure, I just don’t think he’s so different that he’d do long distance.”

Margo frowned. “All I’m saying is you’re never going to know what he wants if you’re over here speculating with me, talk to him and go from there.”

She tugged at her hair. “I just don’t know.”

“Talk to him tomorrow but enjoy tonight.” Margo warmly said. “Come on let’s take the shots back to the table.”

When they were back at the table, Steve was immersed in conversation with one of Margo’s friends.

“We come back baring shots!” Margo exclaimed, as they both set the small glasses out on the table.

“Cheers.” She said clinking her glass to Steve’s.

“Cheers.” He replied knocking back the shot.

The shot burnt her throat and warmed her body, she’d already been buzzed before but she knew it’d hit her in a few minutes.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

An hour and 2 more shots later she was past tipsy, so was everyone else.

She stared up at him, swaying slightly.

“What?” He asked amused.

“You’re just so cute.” She admitted, booping his nose.

“Thank you?” He laughed, he was clearly little more sober than her.

She fisted the material of his shirt. “You just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“How stuck in my head I get about you, it drives me crazy. I wish you knew how much I-“ She stopped talking.

“How much you what?” He asked.

New music started.

“Oh my god I love this song!” She cried grabbing his wrist. “Let’s go dance.”

She started to lead him away. “Did you not wanna finish your sentence?”

She couldn’t recall what she’d said.

“We’ll dance first then you can tell me what it is I have to tell you.” She slurred.

Margo gave her a thumbs up, she gave a thumbs up back not really understanding why.

“Spin me around!” She told him, he chuckled twirling her.

“Now it’s your turn.”

He raised a brow. “What?”

“Less talking more spinning.” She scolded and twirled her 6 foot friend around. “Wasn’t that fun!”

“Suprisingly, yeah.” He grinned at her. “I’ve really liked hanging out with you this week.”

She beamed. “Me too.”

“I like a lot about you.” He confessed. “I like you in a way that’s different than I feel with other people.”

She didn’t say anything her head was getting dizzy from all the dancing and drink.

“Do you understand what I’m telling you?” He asked.

Before she could have a chance to respond she could feel herself stumbling over, Steve caught her and she started giggling.

“I’m so sorry I am so drunk right now!” She snorted

He looked at her disappointed. “Let’s get you home.”

He guided her through the dance floor and to where their table was.

“Margo I’m gonna take her home.” Steve said, one arm around her.

“Good plan.” She smiled.

She hugged Margo. “Margo you’re the best, you’re such a good friend.”

Margo patted her on the back. “You’re a great friend too!” She passed her back to Steve. “Safe journey back guys.”

As they left the bar, they ran into a familiar face. It was Tyler.

“Look who it is.” (Name) cheered holding her hand up for him to high five.

Tyler gave her a weak high five and looked to Steve. “Is she-“

“A bit drunk, yes.” Steve replied curtly, the bromance between them was obviously gone.

“Oh wait I just remembered that I don’t like you.” She lightly slapped Tyler’s arm.

As they walked away she called over her shoulder. “Don’t go tricking anyone into truth or dare or I’ll find you!” She sung.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

When they returned home everyone was asleep, he took her up to her bedroom. She sat on her bed swaying her legs, he came back in with a glass water. “Drink all of this okay?”

“Yes mum.” She slurred gulping down the water.

When she was done she gave the glass to Steve, she pat the space on the bed next to her. “Come sit here.”

“Maybe you should get some sleep?” He suggested.

She shook her head. “Later, first sit.”

He took a seat next to her, even in her uninhibited state she could acknowledge how good he looked, his hair was dishevelled and shirt a little open.

She turned to face him. “What made you change so much?” She bluntly asked.

“I finally got a skin care routine-“

“No not that, why are you not in some college fraternity called delta zeta gamma ray.”

“Sadly Purdue doesn’t have a fraternity with that name.”

She poked him in the chest. “Answer the question!”

He chuckled. “I just like teasing you.” He looked at her thoughtfully. “The reason I changed was because of the friends I made, real friends. Once I graduated high school all of the stuff that was important, just stopped. And I realised that there were people who liked me as I was, not just because I had great hair or was on the basketball team. For the first time since being friends with you I had people on my side.”

“I’m so happy for you. You seriously deserve to have people like that in your life.” Her mouth curved up. “Are you still with that girl?”

“You mean Nancy? God no, we broke up ages ago, we’re good friends now. She actually just got engaged.”

“Good for her, that’s nice.”

“Engaged to the guy she left me for.”

She grit her teeth. “Less nice.”

He shrugged. “He’s a decent guy and I have to say they make way more sense than me and her ever did.”

“Wow marriage, I haven’t even had a boyfriend yet.” She huffed.

“Never?”

“No sir.”

He moved a little closer. “Is there anyone at the moment?”

“Sort of, but can you keep a secret?” She hiccupped.

“Yes, yeah I can.”

She beckoned him forward. “Come closer so I can tell you.”

When he was close enough she placed both hands in his face and went to lean in to kiss him, her lips barely grazed his before he was pulling back from her.

The rejection stung her, she got off the bed. “Oh god why did I do that?” She groaned.

He stood up too. “It’s fine really!”

She shut her eyes. “It’s not, that was so incredibly dumb, I shouldn’t have tried to kiss someone who doesn’t want to kiss me.”

“I-I do.” He confessed.

She opened her eyes. “You do?”

His hand came to cup the side of her face. “It’s not a no, it’s a no right now. I don’t wanna kiss you when you’re drunk.”

There were butterflies in her stomach. “Oh okay.”

His thumb traced her cheek bone. “Tomorrow I’ve gotta help my mum set up for the party but later on why don’t we finally talk, how does that sound?”

She smiled shyly. “Sounds good.”

He pressed a kissed to her forehead. “Get some sleep.”

As soon as he left her bedroom she was fast asleep.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Saturday July 15th

She spent the entire morning with a throbbing head ache curled up in bed. When she’d made herself semi-presentable she left her room to get some lunch. Her memory was blurry and everything after leaving the bar was totally blank.

“Hey.” Steve said coming into the kitchen holding a box of wine glasses.

“Hi.” She replied.

He put down the box and came over to her pressing a kiss to her cheek, she stepped back and touched where he’d been.

“Why did you do that?” She asked perplexed.

“Do you not remember last night?..”

“I don’t remember much at all, I can’t remember even getting home.”

His shoulders dropped. “So you don’t know what happened.”

“Wait what happened?!”

Last night began to return to her.

She put a hand over her mouth as it hit her. “I tried to kiss you!”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah you did.”

Then she recalled what he’d said after.

Her eyes widened. “And you wanted to kiss me, but didn’t want to do when I was drunk..”

“And if I did that what do you think that means?” He carefully asked, waiting for her to put the pieces together.

“That you like me.” She breathed.

“I really like you. And I think that maybe- there’s part of you that feels the same?”

She couldn’t hide from it anymore.

“Steve, I won’t deny that there’s things I’ve felt for you this week that go beyond just friendship but,” She sighed, “I’m going back to New York tomorrow and you’ll be back at college in a few weeks. There’s no point starting anything now.”

He shook his head. “I don’t care about the distance, I want to try.”

“You might not care about the distance at first but eventually it’ll become a problem.”

“No it won’t.”

“But it will!” She insisted. “You’re a young good-looking guy still at college, you don’t want to long distance, you should be hooking up with the cute girl in that one lecture who keeps smiling at you. Trust me I’m saving you the pain.”

His expression hardened. “Don’t tell me what I want. I don’t want some meaningless fling with someone I barely know, I want you.”

“Until the better option comes around.” She blurted out.

“There is no better option there’s only you!”

“It’s a bad idea, I’m sorry but-no.”

He looked away from her his jaw clenched.

She put a hand on his arm to try to turn him towards her. “Hey, hey Steve, come on this doesn’t need to be a sad thing, I’m just trying to be practical.” She said gently.

He moved away from her, too angry to even look in her direction.

“Why do you keep doing that?” He snapped. “Why do you keep pulling away from me every time we get the slightest bit close to something happening. You aren’t trying to protect me, you’re trying to protect yourself.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!” She exclaimed.

“I know I did bad things but I’m getting really tired of having to prove to you and to everyone just how much I’ve changed.” He finally looked at her, eyes glossy with unshed tears, her chest ached. “What is so fucking wrong with me that people can’t love me?! I’m not a monster, I’m a person.” He said voice cracking.

She felt like someone had sawed through her heart. “I didn’t know you felt that way.” She said trembling.

Tears slipped down his face, he wiped at his eyes. “Well, you wouldn’t would you, no one would.” He inhaled shakily.

He reached into his pocket. “Here.” He said throwing her something.

When she opened her hands, it was none other than the necklace from the market.

She gawped at him “When did you..”

“I was going to give it you tonight, but you may as well have it now.” He grabbed the box from the counter top and left before she could stop him.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

She sat at her vanity ready for the party. She’d had a lot of time to think about her conversation with Steve and how he had been right about how she felt, she was scared of just how much he could hurt her. But in turn not being together was hurting them both so much more. She delicately touched the pendant of the necklace, her old matching bracelet sat on her wrist. She wanted to sob when she looked at the little golden S.

There was a knock at the door, she hurried to the door in hopes that it was-

“Vivienne hi.” She said.

“Were you expecting someone else?” Vivienne chuckled. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah of course.”

She moved out of the way, then shut her bedroom door. Vivienne perched on the end of her bed and smooth the skirts of her green dress.

“You look gorgeous dear.” Vivienne complimented.

“Thanks so do you.”

Vivienne crossed her arms and looked at her softly with concern. “We need to talk.”

She sat down next to her apprehensively. “About what?”

“About how insane both you and my son are driving one another, it’s like wuthering heights in here.” Vivienne tutted.

“How did you figure it out?”

“Mother’s intuition.” She shook her head. “I overheard you both in the kitchen.”

“Oh god you heard all of that?” She groaned.

“You did have quite a heated conversation in the middle of a public space so yes I heard.”

“Well then I’m sure you know that it’s over before it began.”

“Only if you don’t try sweetie.”

“But that’s what I’m afraid of, what if it doesn’t work out?”

“When you get to my sage age of 50-48 if anyone asks!” She chuckled. “You learn what love is and what it isn’t, sometimes it’s worth the risk. And this is coming from someone who’s only found it for the first time in her adult life.”

She raised her brows. “But you and Mr Harrington..”

“Are getting a divorce. I split up with him sometime ago.”

“Why doesn’t anyone know?”

“Steve does, I told him as soon as it happened. Both Clyde and I wanted to take our time with publicly announcing it. My party will be the last time we’re ‘together’.” She did air quote marks with her fingers.

“Wow.” She said. “Good for you.”

Vivienne put an arm around her. “It’s wonderful but I can’t be happy until I know that you kids are. What you both have is real and maybe it isn’t going to be easy or it might not last but you both deserve the chance to experience it.”

“I’ve probably ruined any chance of ever having it.” She admitted sadly.

Vivienne gave her a sly grin. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, talk to him I think you’ll be surprised.”

She smiled back weakly. “I’ll try.”

“No more moping.” Vivienne sprung up. “We’ve got a party to enjoy!” She held out her hand pulling (Name) to her feet.

“Who’s this person you’re in love with then?” She asked.

“His name’s Pierre, he’s a French photographer, incredibly cliché I know but he’s a good man, he makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.” Vivienne told her.

She linked her arm through hers. “You deserve to be happy.”

Vivienne squeezed her arm. “So do you sweetie.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

The party was in full swing and she still hadn’t seen Steve, she however had run into Margo and Tyler who had come with their parents.

“Hey guys.” She said approaching them.

“Hey.” Margo replied hugging her whilst Tyler politely smiled.

“Tyler sorry about last night.” She apologised.

Margo snorted. “He told me.”

Tyler huffed. “I probably deserved it, I should be the one apologising to you.”

Tyler paused Margo elbowed him. “You actually have to say it.”

Tyler rolled her eyes and sighed. “(Name) I’m very sorry for being-“ He looked to his sister. “An annoying dick head with shitty hair.”

Margo burst out laughing.

“Did you tell him to say that?” She asked amused.

Tyler nodded grimly. “Yes she did.”

“Apology accepted.” She told Tyler, who finally deflated with relief.

“You guys haven’t seen Steve anywhere have you?” She asked.

“Why do you wanna know? Gonna pick up where you left off at the bar last night.” Margo suggestively said.

“It’s actually about what happened after the bar I need to talk to him, we got in a fight this morning.”

“I think I saw him go the beach.” Tyler said.

She frowned. “The beach?”

Tyler shrugged. “No idea why.”

“I’m going to go speak to him.” She said going to leave.

“Goodluck!” Margo called.

�� 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

When she was at the beach she saw Steve in the distance smoking alone by the shore, she could just about make him out.

“Steve!” She shouted from down the beach, he immediately looked in her direction.

She started walking but found the gorgeous heels she had chosen kept sinking into the sand.

“Jesus christ.” She hissed and quickly removed the heels letting them dangle from her wrist.

She picked up the skirt of her dress and ran to where he was.

He stubbed out his cigarette when he saw her. “(Name)?”

She stopped running and smiled at him. “Hi.”

He opened his mouth to talk but she stopped him. “Before you say anything I just need to get a few things straightened out.”

He nodded. “Yeah, go for it.”

“It’s my turn to apologise to you. I don’t know where you’re getting this notion from that you’re some unlovable monster because I know for a fact there are people in this life who like you exactly as you are, I should know since I’m one of them. You’re kind and funny and literally one of the smartest people I’ve ever met.” His face softened as she spoke. “And I’m so god damn sorry that it’s taking until,” She locked down at her watch and laughed, “14 hours before my flight to tell you that I’m so unbelievably, stupidly, in love with you.” Her chest heaved up and down, a little breathless from the amount she’d just said.

He just blinked at her, dazed.

“This is usually when the other person says something.” She nervously said.

He walked towards her, and was so close that the shoes on her wrist tapped against him. He took them off her wrist and they fell to the floor. He cupped her face and softly pressed his lips to hers. She sighed as his lips moved deliciously against hers. After a few seconds he stopped kissing her.

Her lips tingled from where he’d kissed her. “Yeah, that’s a good answer.” She stammered.

He smiled down at her softly. “I love you too, so much.”

“You were right by the way I was afraid-still am afraid of letting myself get swept up in this.” She gestured between both of them. “It's worth all of the risk.”

“I have a feeling that this might last.” He said warmly.

“I do too.” She smiled at him. “I’m sorry about your parents getting a divorce, by the way. Your mum told me.”

“Don’t be, I’ve never seen her this alive, she doesn’t drink anymore and she’s with someone that actually respects her.”

She shook her head fondly. “Only your mother would end up with a French photographer. Do you like him?”

He nodded. “Yeah I do." He nodded. "As much as I like talking Pierre I’d rather go back to talking about us!”

She raised a brow. “So we’re an us now are we?”

“You’re the one who ran down the beach to confess your love to me.” He scoffed.

“And you’re the one who got my favourite heels sandy.” She jokingly scolded. “Why did you just throw them on the ground.”

He sighed. “Yeah, it felt like sexy at the time, sorry.”

She grinned. “I’m just teasing it was sexy, although you will be buying me a new pair.”

He chuckled. “Shut up.” His eyes dipped down to her neck and he picked up the necklace.

“It’s lovely thank you.” She told him then held up her wrist with the bracelet. “And thank you for this as well.”

He began to laugh she furrowed her brow. “You don’t have to laugh.” She huffed.

“No I’m not I’m not, it’s just funny cause-” He rolled back his sleeve to show his own bracelet.

Her mouth fell open. “I thought you got rid of it.”

He touched it tenderly. “I’d never throw this away.”

She leant up and gave him a chaste kiss.

“Do you wanna go back to the party?” She asked.

“Sure.” He agreed, she held out her hand and he smiled taking it.

“My mouth kind of tastes like smoke now.” She said as they walked down the beach.

“So does mine.”

“You were the one smoking.”

“I could stop but I think you find it too hot.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “I also find you quitting even hotter.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Anything for you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Sunday July 16th

2 am

“There’s something I wanted to ask you.” She said, they were in his bed she was nestled against him, head resting on his bare chest.

He stroked her hair. “Ask away.”

She shifted so her chin was resting on her arm. “When we went back to school that summer after we were 14, I called your house and your dad picked up, I told him to get you to call me. He never passed that message onto you did he?”

“I didn’t even know you called, so yeah no he didn’t.” He gently caressed her face with his hand. “I would’ve if he’d told me.”

“I knew you would’ve.”

“I wish I’d made things right with you sooner.” His chest rose and fell in a deep breath, as if letting go of something heavy.

She kissed his jaw. “Let’s just focus on now.”

They looked at each other softly and he smiled at her. “Do you find it crazy that we literally just slept together.”

“Yeah but in a good way, like this is so amazing there’s no way it can be actually happening.” She laughed.

He laughed too. “Oh it’s happening.”

She gave him a saucy look. “If you come visit me in New York it’ll be happening all the time.”

“You’re such a flirt, I’d almost think you have a crush on me.” He wryly said.

"You know what." She pretended to gasp. “I think I do have a crush on you.”

“No I think you love me.” He teased.

“You’re done.” She sung and put a hand over his mouth.

He said it again but this time it was muffled, she took away her hand.

“I really do love you.” She said genuinely.

“I love you too.” He said softly.

2 years later: July 16th 1992

“Is this everything?” She asked, as they stood in their new apartment, boxes taking up every inch of space.

“Why, do you have another 10 boxes of clothing?” He teased.

“I’m sorry that I like to look cute.” She nudged him. “When did you say your friends are coming to stay by the way?”

“The 30th.”

“You excited?”

“Yeah I can’t wait!”

“It’s going to be a lot of fun, I really liked them the first time we met.”

“They loved you, maybe even more than me.” He grinned.

“The only person that loves you more than me are my parents.” She laughed.

Her parents had been over the moon when she’d told them about her and Steve, immediately asking when the wedding would be. Vivienne was delighted but she’d known from the start they’d end up together. As for Clyde, whilst things were still rocky he had actually started to call Steve more and try fix what was broken between them. At Steve’s college graduation she’d thought she’d even nearly seen him cry with pride, when his son has walked across the stage to get his diploma.

He walked towards the window she joined him, the view of New York staring back at them.

“I’m thinking that this would be a great spot for you to do your writing.” He suggested.

“Oo so true, although I worry the view might distract me, I only just got my own column at work I don’t want to screw it up just yet.”

“You could never.”

“How’re you feeling about your first day tomorrow?”

“Like I’m going to screw it up.” He huffed.

“You’ll be fine!”

“God I’m lucky I have you.” He said resting his head on top of hers.

She put her head on his shoulder. “I’ll never stop thinking how lucky we both are to finally have each other.”

PART 2

#angst #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #fluff #Jonathan Byers #nancy wheeler #nancy x jonathan

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mothofmyth · 2 months ago

Text

Steve Harrington takes up journaling.

Look, he's a very traumatised teenager in the 80s. He's got barely any friends, essentially no family worth a damn, and he's definitely not getting a therapist any time soon.

He remembered asking Nancy once, while they were still dating, why girls keep diaries. Why they write shit in them if they don't want anybody to read it.

She told him she likes it because it's like having a friend who can't give you advice you don't want, who won't give you their opinion or judgement on things they don't know enough about.

A diary can't betray your trust the way a human can, so long as you hide it well enough, and if you write something in it that you're not allowed to talk about, you can always tear out the page and throw it in a fire. It's how she compartmentalises. It's a release.

Steve honestly thought it was dumb at first. Leaving all of your secrets conveniently together in one place. If you invited friends over or threw a party and someone found it you'd be socially ruined before you even knew it was gone.

Still, after everything goes down... Steve has no friends his own age, he's sort of responsible for a bunch of traumatised kids, he's for all intents and purposes alone. He feels like he's going to pop if he doesn't tell someone something.

He's throwing another tantrum, as his mom would call it. Tearing up and throwing anything he can find, uncaring of the mess he'll have to clean up later. He just can't cope, and it's not like anybody's stopping him.

He turns his attention to a bookshelf, starts tearing pages out of paperbacks and launching them across the room. He picks up an old notebook, probably a spare he got for school and never got round to using.

It makes him pause, remembering an old, old conversation with somebody he used to love.

He figures, what harm could it do to try? It's not like destroying the house for the third time this week is helping much, nor did climbing into his dad's liquor cabinet and falling to the bottom of a bottle of barrel-aged whiskey.

He grabs a cracked biro off the floor, ignoring the way the plastic crunches a little in his too-firm grip.

He opens the book to the first page and begins to write.

He doesn't really know what he's doing, so he just starts putting his stream of consciousness onto the page. At first it's barely coherent scribblings, but once he starts, he finds there's things he wants to say, things he's been desperate to tell someone just to get them out of his head. He couldn't tell the kids, couldn't tell Nancy or his parents, definitely couldn't tell Tommy and Carol, so he tells the book, instead.

He pours out his darkest thoughts, writes things he would never say out loud, about how sometimes he wishes the demogorgon had taken him out, wishes Billy had killed him, how maybe the kids would be better off that way.

He writes about how exhausted he is, how much he hates his friends and the government and everybody who dragged him to this point and then left him hanging. Left him to drown.

Like Barb drowned. When he killed her. When stupid Nancy invited her stupid friend to his stupid party because stupid Tommy and stupid Carol wanted to play in his stupid pool at his stupid house because his stupid parents were on a stupid business trip.

He presses too hard and the paper tears under his pen. He realises he's crying when he tries to put the paper back together and the ink smudges on his fingers.

He writes and writes until he feels empty inside, then he puts it in a shoebox and stuffs it back under his bed, along with all of those feelings and fears and traumas. With his absent parents and miserable little life and everything that he can never show to the rest of the world.

He starts cleaning up in a haze, forgetting all about his diary for the time being. He's got responsibilities, after all. Who else is gonna step up, if not him?

End for now, but this could go a number of ways feel free to add on. Maybe someone finds the journal. Maybe they get upset by what they see. Maybe they're insulted, or scared, or worried and horrified about Steve's inner monologue.

Maybe some kind of magic happens and the book is actually connected to someone else in some way, and they're seeing everything he's writing and start writing back soulmates-style.

Maybe the book is someone, and they materialise from it having been created by Steve's thoughts or just summoned to 'fix' him.

Idk, as I said there's a lot of directions this could take.

#stranger things #steve harrington #fanfiction #fanfiction prompts #past stancy #stancy #mental illness #mental health #journal #journaling #steve harrington has bad parents

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mygayshortstories · 11 months ago

Text

Back before the days of the internet, when I was in my mid 20s, this was my first experience at “cottaging” in a public toilet, when I happened across Steve, a gorgeous 18 year-old, just ravenous for sex. But this turned into more than just a 'quick one'.....

Steve the Pipe-Fitter

I had a day off from work and had gone out to Coventry to photograph the Cathedral, only to be met with a ‘no photography’ sign at the door, so I’d spent the rest of the morning taking candid photos of nice young men out in the sun instead. A bit frustrated, I got back to town about 2 o’clock.

Just under the pedestrian ramp leading out of the railway station were the public toilets. I had heard about ‘cottaging’ and knew that this lavatory, being busy and anonymous, was such a place, so whether or not my subconscious was drawing me there today I don’t know but when I actually went down there, it was to pay a genuine call, so I duly paid and went into a cubicle.

The partitions between the cubicles didn’t quite reach the ground, so there was a gap underneath of about 6 inches. After a while, my curiosity got the better of me. Although I had never done it before, I knelt down on the floor and looked underneath. To my naïve surprise, a few cubicles away, a face was looking back in my direction. My reaction was instantaneous; I sat up quickly. However, my reaction had been so swift that I hadn’t had time to see who it was or what he looked like. For some reason though, I couldn’t pluck up enough courage to look again. I just sat there.

A short while later, I saw a young pair of shoes, at the end of jean-clad legs, enter the cubicle next door. I say ‘young’ because the shoes were new and smart, with a brass toe-strip, fashionable at the time. Clearly it was someone fairly young; probably no older than me, at any rate. He seemed to sit down but then do nothing else. I was curious and couldn’t resist the temptation, so I wrote on a piece of toilet paper, “How old?” and slipped it under the partition. The note was quickly taken up and was shortly followed by the sound of a match being struck. At first, I thought he was burning the note in disgust but then I realized that he was using the match to write with.

The note came back; “18” it read. I drew a rather deep breath. Now what?

I returned the note; “I’m 26 – can I wank you off?” I remember thinking at the time that punctuation was probably superfluous under the circumstances and that a fairly basic vocabulary was more apt.

Another match was struck on the other side and the note came back, “Lend me your pen”. I realised that he must have seen my stainless-steel biro when I had slipped the message under the partition and I wasn’t yet ready to risk losing one of my 21st Birthday presents. As I had nothing else to write with, I returned the note saying, “No – you’ll nick it” and indicated that he should continue using a match.

There was now a bit of a delay and I figured I must have blown my chances. At best, he didn’t have any more matches. “And all for the sake of losing a stainless-steel biro!” I thought to myself as I sat there.

However, to my surprise, eventually another note came back giving his approval to my original request, provided that I agreed to “suck him off”. Needless to say, I immediately indicated agreement and told him, “Unlock when ready”. I flushed the toilet and opened the door.

As I emerged from the cubicle, I then thought, “What do I do if he doesn’t unlock the door and just leaves me standing there like an idiot trying to get in?” It was pretty busy outside, with people coming and going, people washing their hands or waiting for a cubicle and some even hanging around at the urinals. They may or may not have known what was going on but I knew I had to risk it and be quick about it. As I turned, I saw his lock click to ‘vacant’ and I pretended to put in a coin and entered the cubicle.

On reflection, my hasty action deserved to lead me into serious trouble but my limited experience knew no better. I don’t know who I really expected to find inside but for a start he hadn’t lied about his age. He was a fraction taller than me, lightly built with short dark hair and wearing blue denim jeans and a black leather bomber-jacket over a plain white ‘T’ shirt. But what struck me so overwhelmingly was his incredibly beautiful face. He had blue-grey eyes and soft boyish features, so clean-shaven that he looked almost as if he had never shaved and never needed to. I could hardly believe my eyes how gorgeous he was.

He also must have been reasonably pleased with me because, instead of just offering me his cock to suck, we both feverishly began undressing each other. We didn’t get far though, before we were both embracing, hugging each other tightly. This first embrace said so much without words and it seemed to last for ages; he pressed his whole body to me, burying his face against my neck, hugging me and kissing my neck. He smelt nice too; he was clearly wearing after-shave or cologne of some kind. Whatever it was, it was doing its job perfectly and I was almost overwhelmed. At best, on entering the cubicle, I had expected - I had hoped – for an ‘ordinary’ young man (like me) who wanted quick, impersonal sex but nothing had prepared me for this situation. He wanted – he deserved – far more than just a quick wank, that much was certain. Looking into those glistening blue-grey eyes, set beneath luxuriant dark eyebrows, I just cradled his face in my hands and gently kissed him on the lips.

At this point, I must have realised the danger we were both in; two men in a public toilet, half undressed and one of us under 21. I felt I had to get him out of there to somewhere safer – and a little more romantic. I whispered into his ear,

“You’re so gorgeous; what on earth are you doing here?”

He merely hugged me all the more tightly and then he kissed me for the first time; not a peck or anything half-hearted but a full-blown, sloppy kiss. Oh heavens! His lips tasted simply delicious! Memories came flooding back of an 18 year-old boy-friend I had a few years back, as I began to melt against him. Again, I whispered to him,

“I can’t bear the thought of you being caught here. Can I take you back to my place? It’s not too far and it’ll be safer there.”

Much to my surprise, he readily agreed, just as we noticed someone spying on us from under the partition with the next cubicle. It was that face again – the one I had seen looking back at me under the partitions - only this time, he was right next door and had already noticed two pairs of feet where there should be only one.

My newly discovered treasure left the cubicle first, flushing the toilet for effect, and I followed after a moment or two. When I emerged at the top of the steps, I thought that I had lost him and that he had run off, but then I caught a glimpse of him disappearing into a telephone kiosk. I still wasn’t sure whether he was trying to avoid me but I briskly walked up to the kiosk and when he saw me, he came out. As we walked away together, he seemed more on edge than I had expected and he was nervously looking around at the people about us.

As we walked on, I managed to ascertain that his name was Steve and that he was, of all things, a pipe-fitter. To this day, I don't know if he was having me on and it was some kind of jok on his part but without warning, he suddenly hustled me in front of a queue and onto a bus. Rather taken by surprise, I fumbled for the fare he had paid and followed him upstairs to where he was sitting, looking intently out of the window. He then told me that we had been followed from the toilet and he pointed to a middle-aged, rather scruffy looking man in the crowd who I remember seeing earlier, loitering in the public toilet. It was ‘The Face’ from under the partitions again!

We stayed on the bus as it went around the City Centre; meanwhile, he sat there, pressing his leg firmly against mine. Even through my jeans, I could feel the warmth of his leg and this tenuous connection of our bodies passed an electric sexuality between us that was getting me highly aroused! The blood was pumping through my cock, tightly crushed inside my briefs, and there was an uncomfortable dampness developing in my groin as pre-cum oozed into my underwear as we sat there, our jean-clad thighs pressed warmly together.

By the time we reached the Town Hall, he seemed to be less nervous. We had lost our follower, so we changed buses and headed to my place. On the way, I tried to make ‘small talk’ and he responded chattily. He had a gorgeous Liverpool accent but said he lived locally. I learned that he had left his parents in Liverpool to find work and that he shared a flat not far from where I now lived, so he didn’t feel that he was heading into totally strange parts. The short walk from the bus seemed to take ages; my heart was beating fast and it was thumping into my throat. I was nervous that we might meet someone I knew; what would I say? But as it happened, we didn’t pass anyone.

He seemed impressed when I showed him into my flat and immediately asked how much it cost. Typical of a Liverpool ‘Lad’, I thought; winningly engaging but always straight to the point. I took his leather bomber-jacket, gave him a Coke and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to me, indicating for him to sit beside me, which he did. As I put my arm around him, he responded straight away by doing the same and by snuggling up to me affectionately. I stroked his face and again told him how beautiful he was.

“Thank you,” he said with a coy grin. He seemed genuinely flattered.

As I moved to kiss him, he turned toward me and our lips met for the second time in a kiss of such tenderness, quite unlike anything you could imagine from an 18 year-old. His lips were full and his mouth tasted slightly of mint, as our passions roused and our tongues entwined. I began to realise that he may have been 18 but he was no novice. He certainly knew how to kiss, that’s for sure!

Eagerly, he following me into the bedroom, where I drew the curtains and closed the door. In the semi-darkness, we embraced again but this time, unlike in the toilet cubicle, we were safe and secure from prying eyes. Our whole bodies now pressing together, we kissed and hugged. He began to unbutton my shirt as I removed his t-shirt, revealing soft tanned arms and a strong chest delicately peppered with tiny hairs. Again we hugged, but this time our skins touched for the first time and passed bodily warmth between us. Feverishly, I unzipped his flies and unbuckled his belt but by now, we were both so desperate to get into bed that we both just dropped our jeans and almost leapt into bed, still wearing our underpants.

Under the covers, we fell against each other, skin against skin, and I felt the warm hardness of his organ against mine through our underwear. Soon, however, the underwear was gone and we were fully naked, entwined, hugging and kissing in a heat of frantic passion. I could feel his organ, large and full, between our stomachs as I lay on top of him and he began thrusting upwards to me.

Looking back from today’s world of the internet and ‘porn on tap’, it’s difficult to explain but all this excitement simply proved too much for me and his eagerness tipped me over the edge; all my pent-up sexual frustrations rose within me and I came uncontrollably against his stomach and erect cock, hugging and pressing myself to him. As I clung to him, my orgasm enveloped my whole body, as my semen gushed uncontrollably in pulses between us.

I was mortified. While I did not count myself as promiscuous, I had ‘been around the block a few times’, so this sort of thing was not supposed to happen to me and I was embarrassed. I thought I had blown my chances and it was all over. Light-heartedly, I apologized and quickly mopped up the mess, as I didn’t want to disappoint him. But there was no fear of that; he rolled me onto my back and knelt astride me, holding his throbbing penis in my face, foreskin already drawn back in anticipation. Evidently, he hadn’t forgotten our bargain back in the public toilet!

I too had no intention of breaking our ‘contract’, so I eagerly took his throbbing tool in my mouth and began sucking and playing with it. He loved it. We rolled about in a number of positions, with me sucking him and tickling and licking his testicles; and him thoroughly reveling in it. But I had to keep resting my jaw; it was beginning to ache and juices were everywhere; he was a big lad for one so slightly built.

“I’m a good stayer,” he joked, and he certainly was. I wasn’t about to give up either; he was 18, beautiful - and all mine.

But eventually, I felt the tell-tale signs; now on his back again with me crouched between his baby-soft thighs, his organ in my mouth and gripped in my hand, his breathing suddenly changed and he began gasping and shuddering. Don’t you simply love that moment when a young man loses all self-control just before he cums? With a deep, hard gasp, he exploded into my mouth 3 or 4 times, great gushes of salty cum coursing through his organ and filling my mouth.

Some guys (girls too, I suppose) don’t like the taste of a guy’s cum, so they either spit it out or let it dribble back out of their mouth. For me though, the whole experience is a very personal one and while I don’t much like the taste, I feel that swallowing it increases that connection; it creates an even deeper bond between the ‘giver’ and the ‘receiver’. Besides which, having a man’s cum permanently inside me is very satisfying; at least it is for me, at any rate! Consequently, as his throbbing cock subsided, I swallowed all of his slimy, slithery juices. His body then relaxing and exhausted, he breathed heavily.

“Jeez, I needed that!” he said, as we collapsed into each other’s arms, once again hugging and kissing.

At this point, I thought he would want to leave, his passion satisfied; but he hadn’t had enough, it seemed. We continued laying together, caressing and stroking, hugging and kissing, rolling about in loving passion the likes of which I had not felt in a long while. Occasionally, we would rest and just lay still in each other’s arms, softly talking, only to return to the hugging and kissing with renewed vitality. I complimented him on how passionate a lover he was. He liked that.

I said, “You’re not shy either, are you”, and he looked at me, slightly surprised, and replied, “No”, as if it had never occurred to him.

As we still lay entwined, without any warning he then said,

“Well, can I stick it up you then?”

Although the abruptness of his request came as something of a surprise, it was by no means out of character. He was direct and to the point. But I saw this as an opportunity, so in an attempt to persuade him to meet me again, I said I thought maybe we should keep that for another time. He didn’t seem to mind, except that now we began exploring each other’s bottoms.

As I played my finger around his anus, I realised that this was one of his weak spots, as it was mine in fact. He began groaning and he clasped my hand, pressing my finger into him. With the aid of a little lube, I began to finger-fuck him, massaging his prostate while he writhed about, groaning in ecstasy. For a few moments, I had his entire body sensations under my control (again) and I sensed he was going to let go again. I felt tremendous. But he had other ideas still in his mind because he gently pushed me away, grabbing the lube and following my example. Now he was the one who had me under his control and my mind soon changed regarding his request to screw me! He rolled me over and took charge.

I asked him to take it gently – he was only young and I wasn’t sure how desperate he might be. But I need have had no fears. As I lay on my front over a pillow, face to one side and one knee raised, he lubricated his now throbbing organ and my aching anus. He entered me just a little at a time, pausing when I asked, allowing me to relax. He wasn’t particularly well-endowed, as if that mattered, but he was fairly narrow too, so I was able to accommodate him with very little discomfort. However, his cock was quite long and it was terrific to feel his slender organ sliding smoothly in and out, upwards and inwards, rhythmically inside me, as he lay against my back with his arms firmly clasped around me. It was sheer bliss.

Eventually, he began thrusting in earnest, almost withdrawing in between his full, hard thrusts into me. In fact, he slipped out twice and got a bit flustered at nearly losing it – he was obviously getting near to his climax. I calmed him as he entered again easily, softly encouraging him to continue, and he began thrusting again, now desperately. As I felt his rhythm change, he thrust once or twice really hard into me as far as he could go and, reaching his climax, he grasped both my hands on the pillow and buried his face against my neck. I could feel him holding his breath, as he held absolutely still for a second or two; and then I felt his organ pulsing high inside me – 2, 3, 4, 5 times he came into me, my insides warmed by the love fluid flowing into me. Then he let out a gasp and I felt him relax his frantic grip of me, as he just lay there on top of me, his tool still slowly throbbing the last of his orgasm inside me.

Exhausted, his tool slipped out of me as he still lay against my back, sighing and breathing heavily. I sighed too – frankly, I had never had it so good! As we rolled over into each other’s arms once again, I told him so and he was justly flattered. We must have rolled about kissing and embracing for quite some time until he finally asked if I had cum when he screwed me. I told him I hadn’t, although I had been pretty close, and to my utter amazement, he said,

“Right, well it’s your turn then – I’ll do you a blow job” and with the words, “Let me at it!” he climbed over in-between my legs and began passionately sucking my still hard penis and tickling my testicles with his fingers.

Frankly, I was speechless; this 18 year-old fantasy had just had two quite tremendous orgasms in the space and he was still as excited and, what’s more, he was interested in me. I wasn’t expecting any more than I had already experienced but I was ready for anything he was prepared to offer and I was enjoying every precious moment.

He didn’t move up and down on me much; instead, he teased me with his mouth and tongue, second by second, so slowly that as I felt myself drawing towards a climax, it was so gently and slowly done that the tension was almost agonizing in its pleasure. I began shaking what seemed like ages before I came but then I could feel the fluid rising in me, flowing on its inexorable path to the outside world. I clutched at his head, gasping for breath, and came like a small fountain into his mouth, pumping away while he eagerly swallowed every drop I gave him until I was truly spent.

I was still gasping for breath when he collapsed against me again, where he lay for another ten minutes or so until it was time for him to return to his own flat. We had been in bed together for nearly three hours and finally he was leaving. We dressed and tidied up and I asked if I could see him again. To this day, his reply still baffles me.

“What do you think?” he said.

I’ve often wondered at the double meaning in his response but at the time, I took it at face value, gave him my phone number and attempted to express sincere feeling to him as I showed him out to the road and directed him to his bus home.

A beautiful cheery face smiled back at me as I waved to him disappearing down the road. As I returned to my flat and closed the door, I was alone again and felt suddenly empty and yet at the same time rejuvenated. For me, nothing short of a fantasy had come true and it felt all the better for knowing that he had had a bloody good time too! Our afternoon had been filled with such intense passion that I thought, “Surely this was more than just another ‘one night stand’ encounter?” But he never contacted me and I never saw him again. All I have is the memory; the image etched in my mind of that beautiful young man’s face, the warmth of his soft skin against mine and that incredible Thursday afternoon.

If you liked that story, please let me know - even post a comment under “ask me a question”. Or perhaps you’d just like to read another story?

Here’s an index of my other sordid tales, many of them taken from true-life sexual adventures of my own: Erotic Gay Stories Index

#gay short stories #hot gay stories #smut #cute guys #twinks #gay stories #cottaging #public toilets

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