Head over wheels | S.H.
Summary: steve takes you roller skating for your first date
Pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
Warnings: fluff, (minor) roller skating-related injury
Word count: 0.8k
Notes: written in celebration of steve's birthday <3
masterlist
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Max had warned Steve that this was a bad idea. When he told the redhead that he wanted to take you to the roller rink for your first date, she told him straight-up that he was gonna fall on his face and make a fool of himself. But, he insisted that his ninja-like stealth would make rollerskating second nature.
It’s just walking but on wheels, how hard could it be?
Apparently very fucking hard.
You had already done a few laps by the time you get back around to Steve, who is about ten feet from the entrance to the rink and gripping the wall for dear life. The referee has been pointedly yelling that Everyone has to keep it moving! and Steve has been resisting the urge to rip the skates off his feet and chuck them at him. His face is flushed a rosy pink from a combination of embarrassment and exertion. He can’t help but cringe at how sweaty his hand is when you go to grab it.
“Are you sure you’re alright, Stevie?”
“Me? Pff, yeah it’s just been a while. Just getting my bearings, that's all.” The high-pitch of his voice gives away the fact that he’s definitely lying, but you don’t seem to mind and it makes him fall in love with you even more.
“Well then, I better hold your hand until you get your bearings then, yeah?” The sly smile that tugs at your lips as you interlace your fingers with his almost makes Steve forget how mortifying this whole situation is.
The two of you push forward at a snail’s pace. In the time it takes to travel another ten feet, he’s seen other couples complete revolutions around the rink. You don’t seem to mind. You’re still holding his hand and leaning into him as if you need the support, which he knows that you don’t. Before long, he’s so distracted by the light conversation between the two of you that he doesn’t have to think too hard about not falling.
Whether that previous thought is about roller skating or about you, he can’t really tell.
Out of the periphery of his vision, Steve can see a blur of limbs that’s coming straight for you. You’re distracted, looking over at him and giving him tips on how to distribute his weight. Instinctually, he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you toward him just as the blur breezes past with a muttered ‘scuse me! thrown over their shoulder. Steve’s right arm flies behind him, hoping to somehow regain his sense of balance, but it’s already too late. It’s almost comical the way his skates fly out from under him as he lands on his left wrist with a sickening crack.
A whistle blows.
In any other situation, Steve would be really happy about the fact that you’re breathless and on top of him. He would use the opportunity to make some smooth comment, something along the lines of You should at least let me buy you dinner first. Unfortunately, all he can think about is the pain that’s radiating up his arm and the fact that he’s made a complete and utter fool of himself, just like Max said he would.
You clamber off of him, evidently unscathed by the absolute trainwreck this date has become. The music stops as everyone lines up against the walls, clearing the way for the referee who makes his way to Steve with a smug look and a first aid kit.
The snack bag of vending machine ice that you had so graciously gotten him is now mostly water. You’re simultaneously cooing over him and berating the asshole who decided to show off during a beginner’s skate session. The neon glow of the strobe lights paints the furrow of your brows a lovesick pink.
“This is a pretty lousy first date, huh?” Steve scratches the back of his neck. A nervous tick he can never seem to be rid of.
“Are you kidding?” You say, giving Steve an incredulous look. “You saved my life tonight. You’re practically my hero.”
Coming from anyone else, the words might sound ingenuine. Steve is used to sarcastic comments at his expense. He’s learned to take them in stride. But you’re not making fun of him. In fact, the earnestness in your voice gives him the confidence to lean across the table and plant a soft kiss on your lips.
“I guess you could say I literally fell for you.” Steve is already cringing before the words come out of his mouth. This time you really do laugh at him and he thinks he would make the joke a thousand times over if it meant he got to hear you laugh again.
Brushing a strand of hair away from his face, you bring your hand to cup his cheek.
“Maybe next time though, we can just go watch a movie?”
Sure, his pride is a little bruised and his wrist is going to hurt like hell tomorrow, but Steve can’t stop himself from being so incandescently happy that there is going to be a next time.
~
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