˖ ࣪⭑ dating steve harrington is so dark red sweaters, cherry flavoured lip balm, strong hands, chocolate covered raspberries, messy hair, diet coke, thursday evenings, cinnamon in your coffee, kissing in the back of his car, glitter eyeshadow, bite marks on your upper thigh, cinema dates, summer heat, lipgloss stains on his hip bone, photobooths, expensive cologne ˖ ࣪⭑
hiding out from the humidity in his bedroom, painting your nails with light pink nail polish, getting grass stains on anything and everything white, kisses that tastes like your candy floss chapstick, sleeping in his old faded nyc t-shirt, laughing as he tries to tie cherry stems, the sound your creaking garden gate makes when he sneaks in every night, the smell of salt air, hand burning steering wheels that make steve curse every time he gets in his car, drinking mrs harrington's sparkling wine, soft kisses pressed to the back of your neck, stealing the strawberries of off his ice cream, his messy/sweaty run though hair, your jasmine perfume making his lightheaded
sitting out by the harrington's swimming pool at night with your legs dangling in the water, the feeling of dew drop covered grass brushing against your ankles, watching him press a cool can of diet coke to his face, walking under the shade of apple blossoms, sleeping without bedsheets, leaving sea shells in his pockets, the sunburn that appears across the bridge of his nose every year like clock work, him bringing you lemon tea in the mornings, your blue denim shorts, the cold feeling of his bathroom tiles, calling him up during a thunderstorm just so you feel a little less alone, visiting your friends summer houses, the sweaty kisses and the sudden rush to get each others clothes off when you're alone
the scent of freshly cut grass and orange juice, white lilies growing up everywhere, dog-earing the pages of the book that it's taking you forever to read because he keeps distracting you, the scent of chlorine on his skin, the indented scar under his jaw from when he fell of his bike when he was a kid darkening under the sun, messing around with garden hoses like little kids, constantly reapplying sunscreen to your shoulders, eating tangerines on the front porch, teasing him about still driving the same car he did in high school knowing damn well you'd be heartbroken if he ever got rid of it, watching pink sunsets in the parking lot
He stopped her. He quite literally made her lose her footing and therefore fall out of her turns while he leaned against the newly opened doorway like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be standing there and watching her like this.
“Steve-”
“Don't you get all dizzy doing that?”
She ignored his question (he had already asked her that a thousand times before anyway) as she made her way across the black floor to him. It felt different seeing him here. It was like a little corner of her world was colliding with another corner. Dance and Steve Harrington, both inside the same building.
˖ ࣪⭑ dating steve harrington (beginning of summer version) ˖ ࣪⭑
swimming pools, phone calls at midnight, running your fingers through his messy hair, kissing under a street light, spilling wine and laughing about if for hours, white fluffy towels that smell like his laundry power, watching him press a cold glass of lemonade to his cheek, everyone in town leaving their windows open all day long, freshly cut grass, the book he borrowed from you sitting on his bedside table, taking a cold shower together just to get a break from the humidity, carrying around tote bags & water bottles wherever you go, the sudden coolness that comes from walking bare foot across his kitchen floor
tracing the tan lines on his hip bone, sea shells that he brough back from the beach for you sitting on top of your dresser, chipped blue nail polish, kissing for hours on end because you have no plans all summer, getting sand stuck in your shoes, kisses that taste like fresh fruit & ice tea, sleeping under thin bedsheets so you can still cuddle into his side, blasting the air conditioning in his car and switching channels on the radio until you find something that you like, taking polaroid pictures, getting bubble-gum ice cream and watching steve's tongue turn blue, driving down to the harrington's beach house for the weekend, all the desperate/sweaty touching that summer brings
the first few days of sun-kissed skin, the soft humming of your bedroom fan, the scent of sunscreen & bonfires hanging in the air, running across hot pavements, impromptu sleepovers that last entire weekends, jumping in lovers lake just to feel the cool water against your skin, wearing short skirts just to mess with him, his boy-ish smile, playing card games all night, melted lip balm lost in the backseat of his car, all the late nights that fade into early mornings, drinking diet coke with crushed ice, the scent of the ocean water lingering on his skin, endless boxes of cherries, his wet hair, stolen t-shirts & sweaty hands
spending all your time at the country club, coconut water & watermelon sour patches, sitting in the back of golf carts, telling him how much better you like his his hair when it's messy and run-through, tennis bracelets & dainty anklets, your feet in his lap, sneaking out to meet him before sunset, keeping fresh lilacs & lavender in your bedroom, his hand on your upper thigh, drinking sparkling water out of crystal glasses to feel more sophisticated but still using bright blue straws like little kids
borrowing his white fluffy towels when you stay over and desperately wanting the scent of his laundry powder to stay on your skin forever, writing your name on his back, midnight talks by the ocean, moonstones & romance novels on his bedside table, daydreaming about the future, lazy kisses against your neck, about leaving town and starting over, painting your nails on his bedroom floor, the scent of aftersun and salt water in the air,
tracing the tan lines on his hipbone, slipping his ring through the chain of your necklace and never leaving the house without it around your neck, being pulled in by the loops in your denim shorts, the scent of sea water & sunscreen, sharing secrets under bedsheets, endless days spent by the pool just wasting time, sticky pink lip-gloss stains on his cheek, stealing his hoodie when the sun goes down and never wanting to give it back, wandering around the grocery store at midnight
˖ ࣪⭑ kissing steve harrington in the back of his car is his hands burning invisible marks on the backs of your thighs, the summer heat and the close proximity making the back of your neck sweat, your fingers tangled up in his hair, pulling loose all his knots, the leather seats sticking to your skin, your soft sighs making his head spin as he tries to regain some self control, the back windows being irritatingly rolled up, making it feel like it's a million degrees in the backseat, only being able to smell the scent of his soap and hawkins pine trees, the fear of getting caught driving him to kiss you harder ˖ ࣪⭑
it's constant late night phone calls & drawn out kisses, it's the both of you being so romantically inclined that you drive everyone around you crazy, it's him wanting to take you out just so that he can take you home, it's the way he needs to keep his hand on your knee while he's driving and knowing damn well that before he pulls up to your house, his fingers will be tracing patterns on your upper thigh, it's him just having to have you close to him because there's something about the scent of your perfume that makes him want to hide his face and your neck and never stop, it's knowing that you're 'it' for him because of how obvious he is about making it known, it's the way he says your name like it's his favourite word and how he gets all nervous when you sleepily say his in the middle of the night, it's terrible jokes, rib aching smiles & that boy-ish grim of his
it's fingers in jean loops & kisses that catch you off guard, it's feeling safe with him, being able to tell him anything and know it's in trusted hands, it's calling him after a bad day and just listening to him softly tell you over the phone that it'll be okay, that you'll be okay, it's playing with his hair when he gets tense, dragging your nails down his neck just to help him relax a little, it's leaving your things in the backseat of his car or in his bedroom, it's hiding in his side when you watch scary movies, it's messy love confessions in the middle of the street when you first fall for each other, his hands were freezing against your face but kissing him felt so good that you didn't care, it's stealing all his t-shirts because they smell like him and you sleep better in them anyway, it's him writing his name across your back before you wake up, it's sticky lip gloss kisses & your tall brunette boyfriend in your blush pink bedroom
it's wearing your heart on your sleeve because you know he won't break it & keeping his name on your lips forever, it's the way he has to drag your feet onto his lap whenever you're sitting in his living room, it's daydreaming about him when he's not around, it's the way you can cloud his judgement with one pouty look that makes his head spin, he's wrapped around your little finger and he loves it, it's promise rings in placement of future engagement rings because when you know, you know, it's spending summer's together tangled up in bedsheets as you hide out from the heat, it's knowing each others phone numbers off by heart and driving your parents insane over long calls, it's his hand slipping into yours when you're nervous, squeezing just to silently let you know that he's there for you, it's 'can't you just stay the night?' & 'one more kiss?' conversations
˖ ࣪⭑ steve harrington driving you down to the ocean, his hand resting on the back of your headrest, his eyes trying to stay focused on the street signs, you've gotten lost before and while it was fun sleeping on the side road cuddled up with you in the backseat, his neck was killing him the next morning, there's a soft blue towel thrown in the back, along with some sunscreen and the biggest bottle of water that you could find at the store, your boyfriend already somehow caught the sun a little, you can see the soft blush disappearing down his neck and under his t-shirt from your spot in the passenger seat, your shoes are kicked off in the footwell somewhere, destined to bring half the beach back in the form of sand with you later, you already know that steve's hair will end up smelling like salt water for the next few weeks, it always does, his hand leaves the headrest and finds it's way to the back of your neck, he squeezes softly once just to silently check in, it's barely noticeable but that's the point, it's your thing, yours and steve's, weekend road trips are yours too, along with sharing towels, collar bone kisses, carrying shoes & connecting freckles under the sun ˖ ࣪⭑
Steve's lifelong neighbour is moving away and they're both going to have to face up to their feelings if they intend to find a way to part as more then just friends
Steve Harrington x female!reader
A/n: spring/summer, farmer!steve, friends to lovers
Warnings: kissing
Word count: 6k
Hold it against me, cool to the touch, nobody knows what it's like to be us
Spring had seeped into town. The pavements were warm but the water was still cool to the touch. Steve dipped his hand in slowly in spite of this, still wanting to test the temperature first as the sun sparkled onto the both of them. There was nothing quite like watching sunlight dancing on the water, in fact, the only thing that ever really came close was that same sunlight hitting Steve Harrington.
There was a small stream that ran down by the end of his family’s property. It was the perfect place to dip your feet in for a chance to cool off and talk for hours about everything and nothing all at once. She sat crossed legged, safely keeping dry from her spot on the grass as she picked the petals off of a stray daisy. The Harrington’s farm wasn’t in full bloom yet. It was taking its sweet time this year but that was okay because she had time. They both did.
Steve kicked his shoes off before tucking his white (and now slightly grass-stained) socks back inside them. He sighed contently the second his skin touched the almost still water and she was suddenly made aware of the sweat gathering at the back of his neck, just beneath his messy brown hair. He was burning up much faster than she was, but he had been outside all day. Fixing fences and stringing up lights without a spec of shade so in actuality it made perfect sense that she felt far less affected by the midday heat then he did.
“Steve, your neck looks…sunburnt.” She snapped the stem off of a white daisy. The soft blush that had been spreading across his neck no longer looked endearing, it just looked red. They were barely a few days into Spring and somehow he had already caught the sun, incredible.
“You can’t get sunburn in the spring.”
She tilted her head to the side. You definitely could. And he definitely had. She chose not to say anything this time, instead she just smiled down at her lap and brushed the pile of tiny white petals back onto the grass and off of her bare legs. She could probably just lend him her sunscreen tomorrow, or maybe she could accidentally leave it in his bathroom or just plainly sneak it into his truck, because if he was refusing to use any protection until summer, his neck was going to get very red very fast, and then she would have to endure his complaining.
(Which in reality, she wouldn't really mind.)
He must’ve noticed her smiling, because all of a sudden he was flicking water at her. “Steve!” She called out his name as he drew her attention back to him and the tiny drops of water dampened the top of her dress just enough to make it look like it had suddenly rained for a split second.
He looked far too happy with himself, sitting there, smugly smirking back down at the water as it reached just an inch above his ankles. It moved just a little as it ran past a few stray rocks in the middle of the stream. The rocks could be used as stepping stones, Steve used them all the time, but she had slipped once in the middle of a very brisk Autumn and she would not be attempting it again.
“Just because you want to get all wet doesn't mean that I do.”
“I could throw you in?” He couldn't. But that fact quickly dawned on him as he scrunched his nose up. “Wait no, it's way too shallow.”
She smiled to herself softly. “What a shame.” She chose to ignore the daggers her best friend was shooting at her, leading to a fistful of grass hitting her cheek before a splash of water dampened his hair. So much for the two of them growing up… “Okay, okay. I relent.”
Steve playfully grabbed her arms, making sure that she had no choice but to ‘relent’. His finger tips felt warm against the inside of her wrists, or her skin felt warm against his fingers, either way, her skin was increasingly growing warmer. It wasn’t like he had never touched her like this before, they always got into situations like these, but that didn’t make it any easier. It was like every near miss, every childish wrist grab was a glimpse into something more, into what they could be, and it was slowly destroying her.
“Truce?”
She had no option but to nod her head in agreement, otherwise she would've been going home with a wet dress and skin covered in grass stains and she didn’t feel like explaining that. Everyone in her house, along with everyone else in town, had convoluted up the idea that she had a ‘thing’ for Steve Harrignton, and it was an easy shot that everyone liked to take at her, a lot.
“Truce.” She pulled free from his hold. No longer wanting to feel her heart beat thumping against his finger tips.
Steve pushed himself off of the grass and stood to his feet, before extending his right hand down to her. She slipped her hand into his without a second thought, completely forgetting that she had only just untangled herself from his touch, and let him pull her to her feet as well.
“I’ve gotta head home.” She admitted, slightly disappointed that her mind had gone ahead and reminded her she actually had things to do and she couldn’t just sit around with Steve all Spring wishing the days away.
He tilted his head to the side and dropped his shoulders before over-dramatically muttering under his breath. “Abandoner.” He reluctantly picked up his shoes and let them hang from his hand.
She hated going home, but it wasn’t because going home was bad, it was just because she would rather be standing in the Harrington's kitchen sipping a cool glass of lemonade as the sun sneaked through the curtains than be going home. But Spring had only just started, there was plenty of time for lemonade. She wouldn’t be leaving until the Summer.
“Bye Steve.” She started backing away from him as he watched her carefully, refusing to waver his gaze, like if he looked away for even a second she would already be gone. “I’ll see you tomorrow?" She asked, posing her words like a question, even though she knew she already knew the answer. They hadn’t gone a day without talking in years, whether that be in person or on a pay phone when the other was out of town, and they sure as hell weren't going to start now. Not before they had to.
Steve smiled at her like he knew that too. And knowing him the way that she did, she imagined that he was hostage to the exact same swirl of thought that she was.
“See you tomorrow."
Somebody finds me in the shallow end, love you like I mean it just because I can
Everything in her line of sight was pink, and slightly green too. Her entire bedroom had become a homage to Spring, with blurry polaroids of her friends on top of her dresser and decorated pillows thrown on her bed while her open window let in a cool breeze. There was also notably a pair of Steve's sneakers sitting by the door.
She wasn't sure how someone could go home without their shoes but if anyone could carry it off, it would be Steve. She sighed as she pushed herself off of her bed, they were his favourite pair and he was going to want them any second now. So, if she could save him from searching his entire house for them, she would.
But just as she reached for the door, it creaked open, revealing messy brown hair and hazel eyes. Steve's gaze fell straight to his shoes in her hand before he dropped his shoulders in relief. He had obviously already been looking for them. He pushed her door open a little further and walked on in like he had an extended life long invitation.
“Steveee.” She drew out his name as he fell onto her bed, messing up her perfectly placed pillows and her wrinkle free quilt. He was wearing that soft blue t-shirt of his that was currently flashing a hint of his hipbone and that made her ribs ache. Steve was frustratingly pretty, but on the days he wore blue, it was somehow even worse. There was just something about his completion that went really well with blue, and teal, and aquamarine, and…
“I can't believe that you had my shoes this whole time.” He furrowed his brows as she tried to ignore the fact that his muddy outside clothes were currently touching her freshly washed bedsheets. “Actually, I think I can.” He smiled to himself like the thought was pleasing.
She placed his shoes back beside her now open bedroom door, before resting her back against the frame, he could pick them up on his way out. “Concidering that this isn’t the first time, I’m surprised that you didn’t come looking here first.” She told him, watching how effortlessly comfortable he was making himself in her room.
He hummed in agreement.
She wanted to join him on her bed. The breeze from the window wasn’t quite reaching her newly chosen spot by the door but it was softly brushing through Steve’s hair in a way that almost felt antagonising. The front of her house always got the sun this time of day, it was south facing, meaning that with every minute that passed, her skin was getting stickier and sticker.
She sighed to herself before giving in and laying down beside him. At least her clothes were clean. Steve smelt like cut grass, fir needles and some kind of soft musk that was almost salt water like. It was perfect. She started at the ceiling, finding the same crack across the white paint that she always found herself focusing on when she laid on her bed like this.
“Do you think you’ll ever get tired of me leaving my stuff here?”
Did he really have to ask? Because in all truth, if he ever stopped leaving his things in her bedroom, her entire world axis would shift. She turned her head to look at him. The freckles across his jaw and down his neck were becoming more and more obvious every day that the sun was out. She couldn’t wait for Summer, for jumping in the lake and more importantly for counting the freckles on Steve’s back.
“No.”
She smiled at him even though she was trying not to. It seems inevitable that her smile would always find a way to slip through when she was with him. It happened even in the worst of times, like during funerals at the church and quiet dinners with her parents.
“Do you think you'll miss it?”
Her stomach twisted. “I don't want to even think about leaving Steve let alone talk about it.” Her parents had long since decided to sell their home. It had taken days for her to even find the courage to tell Steve, and by then, she was sure his parents already knew. They just didn’t have the heart to tell him, which led to her, sitting in his truck on a Tuesday night and having to face up to his sad puppy-dog eyes. “Please?” She begged, understandably not wanting to spend her last few weeks talking about leaving.
“I'm gonna find a way for you to stay.” He stared up at the ceiling again, ever the optimistic when he decided to be. “I swear.”
She wanted to believe him, there wasn’t a day of knowing him when she hadn’t trusted him with her entire being, but… But some things couldn’t be fixed. She didn’t have nearly enough money to live on her own or god forbid buy back her parents house. She has no other option but to go. To some equally small town streets away, and even though she knew it would be the same, there would be a florist and a fruit market and so on, there wouldn’t be Steve. And she could hardly pack him up and take him with her.
She shifted over to rest her head on his shoulder. It was a slightly bolder move for her. It had taken her an entire year before she had ever even brushed his hand with her own, but as the brunette beside her reminded her, she wouldn’t be in this bedroom, finding his beaten up sneakers forever, meaning that there was no better time for boldness.
It felt nice in hindsight. She could feel the warmth coming off of him, letting her know that he was in fact real, that this was real. It also felt exceedingly natural in the strangest kind of way. She tilted her head just enough to look at him, but not enough to leave her new spot.
“I hope so.”
Bridge over water, I am jumpin' off, taking a picture of all the people close to us
She had spent the last week taking pictures of everything and everyone in town. She wanted the permanent memories of everything as it was in her bag with all her other things when she left. There were dozens of the bridge over the lake, of the tree that grew right outside of her bedroom window, and of everyone & everything close to her.
She had snuck out early this morning in an attempt to get some ‘quieter’ memories to take with her. The sun had risen around five and she had about thirty, maybe forty at a push, minutes until her little countryside town woke up. For the most part, she was completely and utterly alone, left to her own devices as she stole pictures of the dirt road that led to her old high school, but then the sound of footsteps dragged her out of her mindful reminiscing.
Steve.
She didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. She could smell his soap and his laundry detergent sneaking through the scent of dew soaked grass. And there was a very specific sound that came from Nike sneakers on dried broken mud.
“I thought you didn’t agree with me doing this?” She spun around with her camera still in her hands. He was standing there in cut off worn out gym shorts and a zip up hoodie over a white t-shirt like he had just happened to catch her on his morning run. But he wasn’t sweating, and there was no redness in his cheeks. “You said, and I quote,” She took a step towards him. It was odd seeing him this early, there was no dirt on his jaw and no new cuts on the back of his hands. The day hadn’t gotten to him yet, for once she had gotten there first. “‘You’re not leaving, so you don’t need to take any pictures’.”
He had said that. She knew it. And so did he. They had been down by the lake, taking pictures of all their friends, when he had hovered over her shoulder and made his feelings about the whole situation quite clear. He thought the whole thing was pointless, he didn’t understand why she needed a picture of Nancy and Jonathan sitting on the rocks that she saw every single day. But that’s just because he still thought she was staying. She couldn’t be mad at him for being so hopeful, it just confirmed how badly he didn’t want her to go. It was okay if he was never going to see them as something more. He was going to miss her, and that was enough.
“I was wrong.”
Hearing him admit it cut her harder than she thought it would. Not just because it was so unusual for Steve Harrignton to admit that he was wrong but because it made it that more real. If Steve had come to terms with the fact that she was leaving, then there was no going back. She had two months left. Seven and a half weeks. She was sure if she placed a hand on her rib cage right now that she would feel the sharp point of a kitchen knife sticking out.
“I kept thinking I could find a way for you to stay,” He kicked at the ground, scuffing his shoes and wrecking them even more than they already were. “-and it didn’t make much sense to me for you to waste all that film on bridges and church windows that you were going to see every single day. I wanted to fix it for you the second I saw how much you didn't want to talk about it in your bedroom the other day. But, I’ve tried, and I can’t fix this.” He looked sorry, maybe even guilty, all just because he wasn’t going to be able to ‘fix’ it for her.
Or maybe, it was just because he had let the full force of reality dawn on her so early in the morning. Either way, his eyes looked more hazel than ever and she had long since associated the colour with his own sadness because it seemed from her point of view, that his usual shade of warm brown faded slightly when his emotions took over. And now she was responsible for that golden shade of green coming back into play.
Steve broke their locked stare and took the camera from her. For once, their fingers didn’t brush. He flipped it around in his hands, he was always so used to being on the other side of it because most of the time, it was her taking the pictures. That was their friendship, Steve did something all so very Steve, and she captured it.
“Can I get one of you and the school?” She watched him as he studied the camera in his hands. She tried to catch his gaze, even though it meant that she would be forced to look into those hazel eyes again. “For old times sake?” She offered up, hoping to pull on some nostalgic heart string to get him to agree.
He threw his head back dramatically and she instantly knew that he was going to say yes. Even if he dragged his feet a little, she was going to get her picture. She forced him to stand in front of their old high school, in the very same gym shorts that he had gotten his senior year. He didn’t smile at first, she had to pull it out of him.
“Come on Stevie, do you really want me to look back on these pictures just to see how miserable you looked?”
“I do not look ‘miserable’, I look like I was coerced against my will.” He muttered that last part under his breath but she heard him as clearly as if he had spoken into an empty reception hall. He placed one hand on his hip begrudgingly and forced a fake smile onto his lips.
She couldn’t help but laugh at him as she headed towards him to make him stand more ‘normally’. She tilted his head up with her fingers hooked under his jaw and then she shook his shoulders out a little to get him to relax. She just needed one picture where he looked happy, where he looked at home.
His eyes caught hers and that's when she saw it. ‘It’ being a comfortable gaze and an easy smile. “Don’t move.” She begged, stepping away from him to take the picture. It was perfect, he looked perfect, even their old high school somehow looked just right even with its peeling paint and its fading sign.
“Do I look good?”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before answering him.
“Uh-huh.”
Head below the surface, almost never certain of the truth
Steve jumped in without a second thought. It didn’t seem to matter to him that this was the very same set of rocks that he had jumped off of when he scraped several layers of skin off his knee. It mattered to her though, she physically felt herself flinch as he threw himself into the deep blue water. Steve got injured all the time, some people might’ve called it reckless abandonment but she just saw it as what it was, an ache to feel alive.
She applauded him as he came up for air, before giving him his score. “Nine out of ten.” Steve swam over to the edge of the lake, and as he held onto the boardwalk that her legs were dangling from, he shook his head, and soaked her with cold droplets of water that slowly ran down the side of her thigh.
“Come on. Can't you just give me the extra point?" He rested his head on her knee and looked up at her, sending shock waves to her ribs.
She was so busy being caught up in the feeling and the wandering motion that this is what it might be like to be his girlfriend, that she didn't catch the mischievous look in his pretty eyes. His hands suddenly slipped around her waist and he pulled her right in the water. Soaking her skirt and her top until they were clinging to her skin. She hadn't decided yet if she wanted to swim today, but Steve had obviously taken the decision into his own hands. Literally.
The second her head came above the lake water, she could hear him laughing. It was soft and loud all at once. And chance of being mad at him for pulling her in died the second she heard that laugh.
“Should’ve given me the extra point.” Steve cocked his head to the side like an egotistical labrador as the sunlight hit his bare shoulders. Summer really was slipping in and it had gotten to Steve first, of course.
“And if I had,” She let her shoulder dip back below the water for a second. “-you wouldn’t have dragged me in fully clothed?”
He contemplated it for a second as a smirk tugged at his lips. “Well…” He splashed water at her before finishing his sentence, lulling her in with a false sense of security. The taste of lake water sneaked past her lips before she had a chance to close her mouth and suddenly all she could taste was murky freshwater and seaweed.
“Steve!”
She thought about retaliating but before she could commit to the idea, Steve swam closer and closer until they were just a touch away from each other. The water made things fuzzy. It wasn’t like when they were on land and she could see how much movement it would take for the edge of her shoes to meet his or for their hands to ‘accidently’ brush. He could touch her at any moment if he wanted to.
“Aren’t you not going to get your revenge?” He sounded out of breath, like someone was putting an invisible pressure on his lungs.
“For you pulling me in?” He nodded his head in conformation. “I’m not that kind of person.” She admitted as the brunette narrowed his eyes at her as she bit back the urge to smile at him. If she smiled, she would’ve given herself away and he would’ve suddenly been able to read her mind and all the tangled limbs thoughts that she was having, she was sure of it.
“But I am?”
“Yes.”
I'd never hurt you first, I'd never let you leave
Steve’s truck was parked in the middle of her driveway, but instead of the tall brunette driving, she was behind the wheel. “I’m leaving town, why do I need to learn how to drive your truck now?” She couldn’t make sense of it. He had dragged her out here just before it got dark to sit in his truck while he instructed her from the passenger seat when she had never once expressed an interest in learning to drive it, ever.
“Because.”
She twisted her body to face him as he furrowed his brows at her like ‘because’ was a suitable enough reason. Which it was not by the way. He was going to have to give her something more than that. “That’s not a real answer."
Steve shifted in the passenger seat. He had just gotten a fresh haircut courtesy of Mrs Henderson, and his hair was looking noticeably shorter at the back of his neck. His Spring sunburn had calmed down now, and he had definitely given in and started wearing sunscreen. All that was left now was for Summer to take over and darken his freckles again. And she selfishly prayed to herself that it happened before she had to leave.There was going to be plenty of Summer’s with Steve that she was going to have to miss, the universe could at least just let her have one more.
“Becasue, it’s a good skill to have and I don’t want you going to some new town and not knowing how to drive a truck and some guy has to teach you.” There was definitely negative communications to the word ‘guy’. She could hear it in his tone, he almost sounded jealous of a person who was being made up for a hypothetical situation and the whole thing somehow made her unabashedly smile. “I will be the guy.”
“Steveeeeee.” She drew out his name, putting emphasis on how ridiculous he was being. She could leave this town without knowing how to drive a truck, she could leave not knowing how to properly cut a melon without nicking the tips of her fingers and she could leave without ever having kissed him, it was all very plausible. “It's too hot today, don’t you wanna go swimming in the lake instead?” She put on her best doe eyed stare for him, wanting nothing more than to just jump into cold water and waste the day away watching Steve dry off.
“It’s not that hot, it's only May.” Steve’s obsession with Spring being harmless was going to drive her insane. “Come on, put the key in the ignition.” He sat up a little straighter, snapping into his ‘teacher' role, and for some absurd reason, she immediately listened to him.
Their town was quiet enough now that there was practically no one on the roads. After five o'clock everyone just decided that all there was left to do for the day was have dinner, enjoy an ice cold glass of diet coke, and get ready for bed. It didn't make for the most exciting hometown to grow up in, but they had found their ways to make it fun.
A bittersweet pain stretched through her rib cage. Was it possible to kiss a place before you even left it? She quickly glanced over at Steve, he was so focused on her driving skills that it made it seem like this whole thing actually mattered.
“Steve?” He hummed in response to show her that he was listening while he kept his eyes on the road. “We're still going to talk when I leave right? I mean, you're not going to go radio silent on me are you?” She kept her hands tightly on the steering wheel, driving a truck felt a hell of a lot more of a responsibility than driving a car ever did. And she couldn’t bear to look over at him, not until he answered her at least.
“-” He said her name like it meant more than it did. Like it carried all this invisible weight that she just couldn’t see. “I’ll call you.” He reassured her, making a promise that she was dying that he wouldn’t forget.
She spared him a quick glance, only to find that he was already looking over at her. The evening heat started to creep back up her neck, she didn’t care what Steve said, Spring was ending with sticky humidity and dragonflies everywhere. She let one hand slip to the bottom of the steering wheel and as the porch lights of their neighbours houses started to turn on, she felt herself start to relax a little.
“You’re doing good.” The sudden praise made her want to roll the windows down even further, but Steve’s truck windows only went half way down and then all the way back up again. And she hated the sound the air conditioning made, so she just shifted in the driver's seat as his leather seats started to stick to her thighs.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean it’s eight o'clock at night on the quietest road ever made in the deadest town alive but-” She lightly shoved his shoulder. He was mocking her during an activity that he had forced her to do. But he didn’t seem to care, he just laughed as the redness flooded to his cheeks.
She came to a slow, albeit slightly jolted stop, outside of her house. There was no way she was taking his truck all the way up her driveway again, he could drive it home and she could just simply walk inside. If she got eaten alive by bugs hiding in the long grass then so be it.
“So, how many more lessons do I need?” She unbuckled her seatbelt and waited for his response. But Steve just rested his head back against the headrest and looked at her like he was trying to memorise the way evening light was hitting her eyes. She tilted her head to the side. If he really wanted her to learn how to drive a truck, he was going to have to get serious, and he was going to have to do it quickly. “Come on Stevie, you started this.”
He sighed heavily. “A couple, maybe. I don’t-” He sat up straight again and twisted in his seat to face her. “I don’t know.”
“Why are we even doing this?”
“Because I wanted to give you something before you left.”
She screwed up her nose. She would’ve been happy with a few stones from the creak or a glass bottle of diet coke from their local store. Something meaningless and yet significant. This was just the former. “You wanted to give me driving lessons?”
Steve just shrugged. “Yeah.”
“But-”
He cut her off as he put both hands on her shoulders. “But nothing. Don’t over complicate it.” The brunette glanced out the window. “Or I’ll have to throw you in the stream.” She wasn’t going to point out once again that the water that ran through their properties wouldn’t ever be deep enough for him to ‘throw’ her in. Instead she just got out of the truck.
“Goodnight Steve.” She shut the driver's door behind her and started to walk to her door, there was no point in looking back, she already knew he was still there, watching and waiting for her to get safely inside the house.
Nothing bad ever happened around here, but Steve would never risk not being there for her if ever it did.
I'm always, forever, runnin' back to you
There was a set of silver keys sitting in the palm of her hand and she was sure she was missing a piece of information. These were Steve’s truck keys, and unless he was just tired of holding them, something was up. “I don’t get it.” She tried to hand them back but the brunette shook his head and refused to take them off of her.
“If you have my truck, then you can go back and forth whenever you want.” Oh. She glanced down the road, Steve’s house was just over his shoulders and his pale blue truck was behind hers. She leaned against the closed door. He was going to make leaving him extremely hard, wasn’t he? “I never leave town, but you’re moving hours away. And that’s only because you somehow convinced your parents to stay within driving distance."
She wasn't sure how much convincing she had done, it had mostly been drawn out bargaining, helpless pleading, and a little bit of annoying them until they agreed not to drag their whole lives half way across the country. She stared down at her shoes. Her beaten up not-quite-white trainers were suddenly drawing all her attention simply because she couldn't bear to look Steve in the eye right now.
“If you have my truck you can just drive over on weekends whenever you feel like it and you can stay with me over the breaks, you know my parents love you and-”
“Steve…” She tried to cut in but he just kept going. Words weren’t going to be enough, so she placed both hands on his shoulders and waited for him to realise she was touching him. He stopped rambling pretty quickly after that. “I can’t take your truck. I just can’t.” Her hands fell back to her sides.
“But-” He looked around, almost panicked, like he was trying to come up with something else to fix the situation they were in. “I’ll come with you then.” She immediately shook her head as Steve searched her eyes for an answer. “But I love you…”
The nerves at the ends of her fingertips were shocked to death. He meant it. She could tell that he wasn’t just saying it on a whim. He really meant it. Her ribs started to close in on themselves, why couldn’t he have told her months ago, instead of waiting until the day before she had to go.
Being a few hours away suddenly sounded less like a win and more like a constellational compromise that was going to lead to long bus rides and never ending goodbyes.
“I love you, Steve.” It felt easier to say than she had expected. All that longing, all that waiting and wondering but for the words to fall off of her lips like honey. “But, you won’t feel like this when I’ve left. We’re just mourning our friendship for the way it was, when I lived next door and we saw it each other day. It won’t ever be like this again and that's hard to deal with but-”
She was cut clean off with what might as well have been a sharp knife but in reality was just a kiss. A kiss that tasted like peach sorbet and the start of Summer. He reeled back as suddenly as he had reeled in but he kept his lips unfairly close to hers. She would’ve been quite content to just stand beside his truck and just have him kiss her forever.
“It doesn’t matter where you are, I’ll still love you. Your address doesn't change anything.” He held her face in his hands like she was something delicate, something worth holding onto. “Take the keys.”
She had forgotten until Steve mentioned them that she was still clasping them in her hand and she quickly became aware of how sweaty her palms had gotten. Weekends, truck tires and sleepovers didn’t sound so bad anymore. The goodbyes could be worth the kisses.
His hands dropped back to his sides and even in the early June heat, she missed the warmth of his touch. “I’m going to miss you Steve Harrington.” She had said it over a thousand times over the last few months but it felt different now. Saying his name was different now that she had been kissed by him.
“You’ll see me.” He smiled in the same boy-ish way that he did at sixteen before slipping his hands around her waist like a boyfriend would. “I can’t let go now that I’ve finally got you.”
˖ ࣪⭑ steve harrington kneeling down to fix the twisted anklet clasped around your ankle but somehow ending up pressing soft messy warm summer kisses to your knees as his hands slip around the backs of your thighs ˖ ࣪⭑
hiding out in his room when the pollen count gets too high, jumping in freshwater lakes, the soft sunburn across the bridge of his nose, damp clothes and see through t-shirts after impromptu water fights, white petals covering your driveway making it look like it's snowed in the middle of may, counting the freckles on his neck when you're bored, grass stained socks tucked into a pair of sneakers, the scent of lilies & seaweed, your hands tangled in his hair, the way the sunlight dances on the water and hits his bare shoulders
steve climbing through your bedroom window whenever he misses you (which is a lot), his warm skin against yours, prolonged goodbyes at the end of the day when you've never wanted to be going back to same home as him more, him fitting in with the blue and the teal and all the sea-bound shades around you, dragonflies suddenly reappearing through-out the town, kicking off your shoes at the front door, pale blue dresses that cut off on your upper thigh and make steve's head spin
wasting the day reading outside with your head in his lap as you re-read the same paragraphs over and over because he keeps tracing patterns over your exposed skin, messy kisses dragged along collar bones, white bedsheets & crinkled pillows, long phone calls that go on well into the night and make everyone in your house mad at you, the way he says your name like it tastes sweet, sleeping in the t-shirts that you've stolen from him, warm steering wheels and the windows of his car rolled all the way down
“Steve, your neck looks…sunburnt.” She snapped the stem off of a white daisy. The soft blush that had been spreading across his neck no longer looked endearing, it just looked red. They were barely a few days into Spring and somehow he had already caught the sun, incredible.
“You can’t get sunburn in the Spring.”
She tilted her head to the side. You definitely could. And he definitely had. She chose not to say anything this time, instead she just smiled down at her lap and brushed the pile of tiny white petals back onto the grass and off of her bare legs. She could probably just lend him her sunscreen tomorrow, or maybe she could accidentally leave it in his bathroom or just plainly sneak it into his truck, because if he was refusing to use any protection until Summer, his neck was going to get very red very fast, and then she would have to endure his complaining.
