✨️ @scentedwolfpeanut - Tumblr Blog

LONELY'S NOT THAT BAD WITH YOU

summary: steve’s parents were on yet another ‘business trip’ when hawkins went into quarantine. he didn’t expect being alone to be this hard, but the emptiness of his house is getting to him. one day, you and the boys show up in desperate need of a break from vecna’s fallout. maybe it’s just what steve needs too.

wc: 5.3k

tags: depressed!steve x fem!reader, touch starved!steve, friends to lovers, set right before s5, angst w a happy ending, mutual pining but steve is down egregiously, sexual allusions?, devolves into straight fluff by the end sorry

a/n: had so much fun with this one. it started out really emo but i had to give my boy a happy ending. oh my god he deserves a hug 😕

18 months.

That’s how long it’s been since Steve has seen his parents — no goodbye, no note (if there had been one, it’d be a problem).

6 weeks.

That’s how long it’s been since they sent him something — a VHS tape they hadn’t returned to Family Video (they forgot he stopped working there a long time ago).

17 days.

That’s how long it’s been since they called — reminded him to check on a bank transfer issue (the bank split it half during the earthquake).

He didn’t think it would be this hard.

It’s not like he isn’t used to it: the emptiness. When he’d returned from the Upside Down to a destroyed Hawkins, the least of his worries had been that his parents had gone on yet another unannounced ‘business trip’. He’d hoped it was couple’s therapy this time. More likely just a good old fashioned rich people get away. He still doesn’t know.

Just that they’re gone.

And this time, the quarantine means they can’t come back. Not to scold him for still not having a direction in life, not to drag him along to a stupid social event where they pretend they’re the perfect family, not to sit together in the devastatingly quiet aftermath of one of his parents’ fights. None of it.

All that remains is an emptiness so deep that he can feel it pumping through his blood like a thick oil spill.

He tries to ignore it. He goes through the motions of his day; wake up early and have his first of at least five coffees for the day, laugh along with Robin’s passionate raving as they drive to the The Squawk, become a loyal sound engineer for the next few hours, maybe see the rest of the party, maybe go on another crawl. Still, at the end of the day, it’s just him and a house so quiet that he can hear his thoughts bouncing against the walls.

Sometimes he wonders if people can sense it on him: the loneliness. Whatever he does, he can’t stop the sludge from pumping, polluting his veins thicker and deeper as the seconds pass.

One day soon, it’ll reach his heart.

It kind of already has. The snappy comments, the constant eye rolls, the deep sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose. He notices it. Spends all night analysing everything he’s done wrong, everyone he’s pushing away. None of it’s meant to be mean. Sometimes he hears the words and wishes he could turn his mouth off.

But Steve Harrington has never possessed the ability to think before he speaks. If someone wants to hear him talk, he will grip onto that like a piece of driftwood in the sea. Doesn’t matter if he grinds it down till its so small it sinks. At least he was afloat. Just for a bit. Maybe it’s the fact that he never felt heard when his parents were here, and he doesn’t have anyone to even pretend anymore. He’s made a sick sort of peace with the silence of his life alone.

Right now, he’s sitting in the Harringtons’ dining room, having a staring contest with the empty chair at the head of the table. His father used to sit there on the rare occasion they had a family meal. Steve would sit on this end, almost 8 feet away, scraping silently at his plate, just like now. No one would really talk, the only sound being his mother, who sat between them, pushing the collard greens or steak she’d worked so hard on all night. He laughs to himself thinking about it now. The three points in a triangle that never quite connected. And as he’s having the kind of dark, reflective thought that seems to come to his brain all too often these days, he hears a knock at his door. Really, it’s gentle, but in this silence, it feels like a boom of thunder rattling the entire house.

“Steve?” The knock may be thunder, but your voice is lightning, alerting him to an emergency that make him snap to his feet.

It sends a shiver up his spine - how much a word, his name can change things. It’s like he remembers he exists, suddenly. It also means his brain begins rushing to all the possible disasters that brought you here. A last minute crawl? Vecna resurfacing? He hates this feeling. Hates the not knowing. Hates the idea of losing someone. But mostly, he hates that he kind of loves it. There’s a rush in the panic. Not the thought of his friends being in danger, but the thought of having a purpose. He notices it now. The way his heart pounds as he storms into the living room. It reminds him he’s alive.

“Everything okay?” He throws the door open in a rush. You’re standing in a heavy coat, but your arms still wrap around you trying to stop the shiver from the November chill. The porch light glows yellow against your skin, illuminating your…smile?

“Hey.” You say gently, like you’re testing him.

“Hey.” He’s still confused.

“Listen, the kids and I were coming back from seeing Max.” You turn to your car, where Lucas, Dustin, Mike and Will are all packed in. Nobody’s speaking, not even looking at each other. Steve already recognises it. Grief. Helplessness. The crushing weight of remembering your entire world will never be the same. “It’s kind of been a downer of a day. Thought we could use your company.” Those words make something ignite in his chest. It’s probably not true. Not with Dustin as angry as he is these days, and the rest of the boys too old to ever really hang out with Steve anymore. Still, he likes feeling like it is. What strikes him especially hard is your choice of words. Not they.

We.

“Only…only if you’re up for it.” You fiddle with the hem of your sleeve as you ask. That’s when Steve realises he’s been staring like a deer in the headlights.

“Of course. Yeah.” He shakes the shock away, stepping to the side so you can come in.

At your signal, the kids all flood forward all long faces and mumbled hellos as they brush past him and into the living room.

“Shoes.” Steve clicks at Dustin immediately. He’s not even sure why he still respects his parents arbitrary rules, but it at least lets him pretend the place is normal. The boy sighs and complies.

Mike and Will quickly settle on the large couch, updating El about Max’s status through the walkie. Like always, there’s no changes. Dustin takes an armchair to himself, staring down at his nails like he couldn’t care less about anything. Steve knows that’s not true. And Lucas… poor Lucas is on the floor, picking at a loose thread in the carpet. His eyes are completely glossed over, thinking only about his comatose love and any way to get her back. It’s always like this when the group visit the hospital. Each person reminded of all the losses Vecna brought and the devastating idea of never getting their friend back. Steve stares at the scene and his heart sinks. His family was broken before but his family is broken now. He can tells you feel the exact same by the way you’re looking at him now: brows furrowed together in a desperate ‘Please help me’.

Steve plasters on his best smile as he claps his hands together. “Ok.” His mind searches for something they can do. “Monopoly anyone?” Will and Mike nod in sync, trying to cling onto whatever ounce of happiness they can get, but Lucas keeps staring ahead like he didn’t even hear Steve. The silence is only punctuated by Dustin’s sharp scoff.

“What do you think guys? Is a Monopoly game gonna help us forget our friend is in a coma and is probably not-“

“Dustin.” One word from you and a quick glance at Lucas immediately sends him shuffling back into his seat. Your tone isn’t even mean. It’s a warm blanket, wrapping over his new found thorns so they don’t prick anyone else. Steve is in awe of your ability to do that even now. Really, he’s in awe of most things you do.

“I think Monopoly sounds great.” Will smiles comfortingly at Steve. “Don’t you Lucas?”

A light pat on the shoulder from Mike makes the boy snap up. “What? Oh…yeah, sure.”

˗ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ˗

The Monopoly hits the coffee table with a thud, pieces flying out of the torn up box instantly. The dust shoots up, making everyone cough from their places on the floor.

“Jesus, did you find this thing in the Upside Down?” You bite your tongue the second the words escape your mouth. Probably not the best time for that joke. Steve can see your wide eyes trying desperately to recover. It’s funny this. Sometimes Steve says words so wrong, so accidentally callous, that you have to swoop in and stop him from making rifts he can never patch back up. Other times, like now, your brain slips out senseless comments that leave you frozen in your tracks. It’s a push-pull this relationship you two have with the kids. But one of you always recovers it, and this time it’s his turn.

“Worse.” He smiles. “Back corner of the basement where my parents put things they haven’t looked at in years. You’ll never believe what I just found down there.” He pretends to shiver, though some part of him actually is.

“What?” Will chimes.

Steve sticks out his tongue, pretending to think hard. “No, trust me. You don’t wanna know.”

“We do.” Mike leans in, eager. Steve still shakes his head.

“C’mon Steve, you can’t tease us like that!” Even Dustin has joined in now, eyes frantic with a desperation to know. Lucas doesn’t say a word but he’s listening.

Steve runs a hand down his face, as if they’ve dragged the answer out of him, and this wasn’t his plan all along. After a dramatic sigh, he nods. “Alright fine. But it’s gross.” Everyone’s leaned in close now, hanging onto Steve’s every word. “Let’s just say…I found out my parents have clearly not experimented with each other in years.” There’s a beat of silence as the information sinks into the group.

Then, suddenly, raucously, Lucas cackles. It’s grating and unabashed, and perfect. Mike follows suit not a second later, laughing in short, sharp breaths. Will is next, clutching his stomach with how hard he’s laughing. The kicker though is when Dustin joins, mouth so wide open, you can see all his teeth.

“You really found their dil-“

“Don’t say it!” Steve half sings, blocking his ears. That sends a second wave of laughter rolling through the group. You’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. The noise is the room is loud, deafeningly so, but it’s also the best thing you or Steve has ever heard. And as the boys continue to throw themselves in a fit, laughing over their own laughter at this point, you lean over to Steve, just close enough that the others can’t hear.

“Thank you.” You whisper, still laughing. When you place a hand on his knee, it sends a shiver up his spine. He feels like water right now. He would bend into whatever shape you ask him to. But you don’t. You just sit there and smile at him like he’s not lost in the ocean he feels like he’s in these days.

Water’s supposed to dim fire, but somehow, the spark in your eyes is igniting his own.

˗ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ˗

The game gets underway quickly after. Steve doesn’t remember the last time he played this with his family and yet half the pieces are missing, so you’re all forced into teams. You and Lucas, Will and Dustin and Mike and Steve. Well, sort of. Steve’s in the kitchen right now, searching desperately for something to fuel the hunger of four teenage boys. There’s not much that can do that. He can hear you all now, energy buzzing as dice rattle against the board.

“Rent!” Dustin calls triumphantly.

“Hey come on, you bumped the table.” Lucas half-heartedly argues.

“I did not you…“

Steve laughs to himself hearing the petty squabbling. This is what kids their age should be fighting over. No monsters. No almost-dead girlfriends. No dead friends. He used to throw stupid parties where he got too drunk. He used to get in fistfights over girls even though he knew he was in the wrong. He tried so hard to impress people he knew sucked just so he could say he was popular. None of that was good. Not once was he happy, but at least it isn’t whatever he’s been feeling recently.

Then he hears Will’s small whoop as he buys a property and he thinks, maybe it’s not all so bad. Just like that, these kids had transformed his creepily empty house into something else entirely. Come to think of it, his happiest moments were all just like this. In the midst of the chaos and rubble, a flicker of light: hunting down Dart with Dustin, finding out Robin was gay after spewing his guts into a mall toilet. His favourite though is when the group had stolen that RV from the trailer park. He remembers it well. Everything you’d said to him.

“Guys, we’re at the store in 10 minutes. When we get there, keep your heads low and split up ok?” You briefed the group from your spot in the passenger seat. With a sigh, you turned to Steve. “You know, sometimes I feel like we’re their parents.” Your eyebrows raised up, processing your own words. Once again, a slip of the tongue. “I mean- I don’t mean us as a couple, I don’t mean Mom and Dad but-”

“I get you.” Steve said it calmly but his heart was thundering at your words. He still feels it. “Actually, it’s silly but I always had this dream…” And he told you about the six kids and the Winnebago, as he tried to hide the flush that crept up his neck.

You smiled at him, this dreamy look overcoming your eyes. “Well, six kids is insane.” He chuckled at you. “But that’s a nice dream Steve. I’d love to do that with my kids.”

That time, you didn’t backtrack and the words have echoed in his memory forever.

“Found something yet?” Your voice brings him out of his trance, as he realises he’s been staring at an open refrigerator for minutes.

He shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. I kind of don’t eat…” He hasn’t thought about food beyond nutrition in a really long time. Right now, his freezer is stuffed with an egregious amount of TV dinners for one, most of which he hasn’t even touched. Your eyebrows furrow further when you see it.

“Steve, this isn’t-“ You place a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m alive aren’t I?” He tries to smile. He can’t bear to hear your concern. It’s too raw. You press your mouth into a tight line but don’t push, instead, squeezing his shoulder.

“Ok, then.” You reach in, sorting through the random meals. “Boys, who wants the lasagna?” You call out to the group from the border between the rooms.

“Actually,” Lucas begins to stand. “I think I might go home. But I really did have a good time. Thank you.” His voice is genuinely sincere, proving to all of you that he is as okay as he can be right now. The rest of the boys follow suit and Steve can already feel the sludge re entering his veins. You look to him, eyes wide but one hand still lingering at your pocket where your keys sit, torn between the two. That’s you. Fiercely loyal. Especially to whatever the kids need. But, Steve can’t let you guys leave. Not yet.

“What? You’re just gonna let Henderson get away with his cheating!” Steve says. He tries to hide the shake in his voice.

“Son of a bitch. I didn’t cheat!” Dustin throws his hands out in laughter, and it makes you turn to Steve with a smile. The realisation that this night needs to continue is exchanged silently between you.

“Tell you what, Lucas, I’ll drive you home and come back. The rest of you should stay a little longer.” You offer. It’s not convenient, but you’d rather that than have it end right now. Steve is beyond grateful. Lucas agrees and the others settle back down without any argument. “Great, let me just put these away.” You stumble back to the kitchen, attempting to balance the meals on the counter.

“Hey shitheads! Come pick what you want!” Steve booms. You slap him lightly on the arm. “What? It’s affectionate.” He smirks.

The boys tumble in quickly, sorting through the pile of processed garbage. You lean up slightly to meet Steve’s eye line, eyes narrowing in a look that’s meant to be serious but he can only see as adorable. “They better be in one piece when I come back, Harrington.”

“No promises.” He winks, and your smile is so radiant, he thinks he is skin might burn.

˗ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ˗

You’re gone a little over half an hour, when Steve starts to feel the worry setting in. Everyone’s settled in the living room, lights low as Indiana Jones plays on the TV. Despite being a group of sixteen year old boys, they’re all crushed together on the same couch, sharing one blanket and a tub of popcorn. Steve might be smiling, if he wasn’t so busy panicking.

Lucas’ house is only ten minutes away.

You should definitely be back by now.

His mind begins racing to all the possible reasons; military stops, a car crash, something more Upside Down-y? What if you didn’t want to come back and-

“Steve!” A light flick to his ear snatches his attention.

“Ow! What the hell?” He shoves Dustin’s shoulder back in retaliation, adjusting himself. Apparently, his panic is radiating off him because he’s sunk so deep into the armchair, the leather has been squeaking obnoxiously loudly. The three boys stare at him with the most annoying smirks. Steve already knows he won’t like whatever they’re about to say.

“Worried your girlfriend’s not coming back?” Mike starts, tilting his head towards Steve.

“She is not my girlfriend dickhead,” He can hear his voice. It’s too fast and too biting. He can’t stop. “And no I-”

“You’re so bad at hiding your emotions.” Dustin shakes his head.

“Emotions? What-”

“Steve, don’t worry.” Will chimes in, soft and calm as ever.

“Thank y-”

“Even if she doesn’t come back for you, she’s not leaving us here.” The boys all burst into laughter at his unexpected joke. Steve can feels his face on fire.

“Dude, you look like a tomato right now!”

“Ok if you shitbirds don’t shut up, I swear to God, I’ll punch your lights out so quick-”

“Didn’t I say they had be in one piece when I came back, Harrington?” Your voice floats into his ears so smoothly that everything else cuts out — the movie, the kids, it’s all gone. He flips around in the armchair, and is greeted with you and a small paper bag in your hand. “I brought ice cream.” He should probably be concerned he left the front door unlocked but he’s not thinking about that right now.

You place the bag on the coffee table, watching as the boys immediately pounce at it like a pack of rabid hyenas. Steve is speechless, still just flooded with relief at your return. You settle on the arm of the chair he’s in, your arm brushing his. He can’t stop looking. Finally, you turn to meet his gaze.

“Everything okay? You’re red.” You reach out for his forehead in immediate concern and he’s warm. Of course he’s warm. But not for the reasons you think. “Shit, are you sick should we-”

He gently grabs your hand, taking it off his head, but not away. “I’m fine. I’m perfect.” He really is. You smile softly, a spark coming into your eyes he can’t quite name.

“Ice cream?” You ask, your hands still floating between you. He shakes his head. Whatever this moment is, he has to stay in it. His chest hurts a little when you move your arm, expecting you to pull away. But no. You simply shuffle, so that your fingers are wrapped around his and rest your interconnected hands on your lap. His nerves feel like they’re alight.

You sit like that, observing as the boys devour their ice cream, mouths unabashedly covered in milk and chocolate. What you don’t know, or maybe you do, is that Steve is only looking at you. The way your eyes light up at the action still happening on screen, the tiny pull at the corner of your mouth when Will starts absentmindedly fiddling with Mike’s hair, and the scrunch of your nose as Mike knocks a Coke into the pristine white rug.

“Shit!” You jump up immediately, rushing over to the kitchen to grab paper towels.

“Dammit, Mike.” Steve hits the floor. He’s half upset at the spill, half upset that your little moment was broken. You all crowd around the brown puddle quickly seeping into the fabric.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“Just save it!” Steve’s anger is pure instinct. “My parents are going to…” He trails off. Oh. They’re not going to kill him.

They’re not going to anything.

This rug was a consolation prize for his mom when she caught his dad with the secretary once. She protected that thing more than her own kid. Didn’t even let Steve eat in the living room after. It was like if it stayed clean, then maybe her marriage was too.

Well…

You’re still dabbing at the splotch like your life depends on it. Mike stammers out profuse apologies, grasping at any excuse he can. Will tries to calm him down and Dustin’s just watching in shock. And the realisation hits him like a wave crashing against the rocks. The four of you are sitting there, trying desperately to save a stupid overpriced rug that only exists because of his parents’ and their shallow, loveless family. You all care more about him than they ever have. Even with the world ending around you.

Steve lets out a dry chuckle. “Leave it.” It’s not rude or bitter. Everyone turns their heads towards him.

“What?” Dustin cocks his head to the side.

Steve shrugs. “I hate the thing anyway. Leave it.” Your eyes scan over him for a second, and it feels like you can see every thought running through his head. You comply with a little nod.

Quickly, you gather up the kitchen towels and stand. Steve watches your brain ignite in real time, realising the mess of the living room. You immediately enter cleaning mode, snatching up loose ice cream wrappers and bowls. He jumps to his feet and joins. Mike rubs at his eyes, leaning his head back. Nobody’s panicked anymore, but the mood in the room has shifted.

“Yeah, I think it’s time to head home.” Will vocalises the thought. Dustin yawns in agreement. That prompts your own yawn and Steve is acutely aware of just how exhausted you look. The whole day has caught up to you in a matter of minutes.

“Might need a coffee first.” You say, wandering over to the kitchen trash can with your arms full.

“You don’t have to drive us. Our bikes are with the car.” Mike notices how drained you seem.

“You sure?” The boys all nod.

And secretly, Steve is happy to have you for just a little bit longer.

Steve guides the kids to the door in a round of quick goodbyes and see you laters and watches them haul their bikes out. As they ride off, laughing about something, he can’t help but smile. He helped them feel better. He actually did something good.

His ocean feels a little cleaner.

You’re splayed across the couch when he returns, one arm draped over your eyes.

“Long day?” He moves your legs for a second so he can settle at the end of the couch, before putting them back on his lap. You sink into him a little. He likes the weight of you on him. It’s strangely relaxing.

You groan in response to his question. “I love them but it’s just been…a day.” Your eyes open back up, spotting the popcorn bowl and crumbs still spilt on the floor and your body immediately tenses again. “Come on. Let’s finish cleaning.” With a sigh, you peel yourself off the couch. He closes his eyes for a split second, trying to memorise the feeling of you.

Then, reluctantly, so reluctantly, he gets up too.

˗ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ˗

The coffee pot boils obnoxiously loudly as you and Steve lean against the countertop, eyes drooping. All the trash is in the bin, blankets and pillows folded neatly away and plates stacked into the dishwasher. His brain feels calmer after the night, but he’s also so exhausted.

The loud slosh of the water inside the dishwasher reminds him of something. “Oh crap. Forgot a dish.” He nods over to the dining table, where his uneaten dinner still sits. That feels like a lifetime ago already.

You straighten up at the sight. “Steve, we bothered you during dinner? I’m so sorry I didn’t realise-“

His hand moves to cover yours on the countertop. “Don’t be.” He leans in slightly. “Please.” If you hadn’t shown up, he’s not sure what he’d be doing now. Probably staring at his ceiling, spiralling. The coffee finishes with a loud hiss.

Neither of you move to take it.

You just look at each other.

Then, Steve says it. He’s not sure if he should, but something prompts him. “It’s late.” You nod. “You’re tired.” You nod. “Would you maybe wanna just…stay?”

You nod.

He doesn’t hide his ear to ear smile. You don’t hide the blush that comes to your cheeks.

˗ˏˋ ✸ ˎˊ˗

When Steve returns from his shower, you’re laying on his bed, thumbing through some book he was assigned during high school. He doesn’t remember what, nor does he care. All he cares about is you, in his bed, wearing his sweatpants and shirt, looking gorgeous as your eyebrows press together in concentration.

He steps properly into the room, prompting you to look up. Your eyes immediately widen.

“Steve!” You giggle, covering your eyes.

“What?” He looks down at himself, realising he’s only in a towel right now. He’s become so used to being alone, he kind of forgot about the whole getting dressed in the bathroom thing. “Whoops.” He smiles, grabs a fistful of clothes and shuffles into his closet. The speed at which he throws them on is honestly record-breaking, not wasting a second to get back to you.

Still, by the time he opens the door, you’ve set the book down and your eyes are half closed. A hundred rooms in this house but somehow you’d both silently agreed that you’re sleeping here tonight. With him. And damnit, you look like you belong there in his sheets. Not even in a dirty way (well, maybe a little), but the idea of coming home to you right there everyday, equally exhausted but still glowing, fills his veins with liquid gold. He fights the urge to kiss your forehead right now, and redirects himself to the light, switching it off.

He settles in the bed next to you and is almost put off by the warmth. It’s been so long since he’s felt someone next to him. Even longer since it’s been someone who’s there for more than just a night. World-ending, town-splitting chaos tends to do that. But then again, he’s never been good at that love thing, has he? Doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here now.

“Steve.” Your voice coos in the dark.“I can feel your eyes boring into my skull.” You flip over to face him now. “Everything okay?” It’s the tenderness with which you ask it that makes his chest explode. He hums softly in response, reaching out to smooth some hair away from your face. Maybe he shouldn’t, but you don’t stop him. “Did you have a good night?” It’s eager, like you’ve forgotten about your tiredness completely for a moment.

“I did.” He’s surprised himself. Not cause he doesn’t love the kids, but cause he hasn’t felt that much in months.

“Good cause… actually, never mind.” You turn to stare up at the ceiling.

“What?” He shuffles a bit closer trying to get you to look back at him.

“No, it’s nothing.”

“Well come on, you can’t just say that.” He laughs, propping up on his elbow. You look at him with a playful smirk, and still shake your head. “Oh, no. Tell me. Never mind is like the worst word on the planet.” He’s leaning towards you now, desperate for you to meet his eyes. You won’t.

“Actually, it’s two words.”

“Just tell me!” At this point, his face is hovering over yours, hands gripping your shoulder as he shakes you lightly.

“Ok, ok.” You laugh out. Steve settles, and he can feel your chest rising against him as you breathe. Your eyes lock to his and they’re soft as ever. “You know how I said this night was for us? Me and the boys? It was but…it was for you too.” Steve feels his heart kick. “I’ve noticed, Steve. More and more lately you’ve been by yourself… and like, not yourself. I don’t wanna overstep or anything but…” Your hand finds it way to his neck, rubbing softly against his pulse. It’s beating way too hard and he knows it. “We’re here. You know that right? We’re in this mess together. So whatever you need, me, Robin, the kids — we’ve all got you.”

He pauses for a moment, because he’s never felt so seen. And it’s terrifying, but it’s also exactly what he needed. He swallows once, nodding just a little, but it gets more aggressive, more sure.

“I know.” He whispers. “I know.” He can’t help but lean into you and all your comfort, putting his forehead to yours. “Thank you.” His eyes are screwed shut, not sure if he’s ready to be any more open than he already is.

But then, you let out the softest sound. A barely audible, “Steve.” He opens his eyes and looks at you. The assurance in your gaze could melt him. You see him. Better than anyone ever has. He sees you too. For all your love, and accidentally careless words, and endless kindness. Your noses are touching now, and when your lips part in a slightly uneven breath, he feels it against his mouth.

It’s an invitation.

Neither of you can hold it back anymore and your lips press together. It’s slow, and unhurried as the years of unspoken tension finally build up into the perfect moment where you savour each other.

After a moment, you break from him, letting out the most delighted chuckle. God, he loves that sound.

“Wow.” You say simply.

“Wow.” He says back. “Been wanting to do that for a while.”

You nod. “Me too.” Then you pull him back in again, sure this time. He places a hand on your waist, tugging you even closer. You lean into it, and your body moulds perfectly to him. Steve has never felt more full in his life. His lips move with yours like it’s second nature.

This was always meant to happen.

Right now, with your hand warm at his neck and your breaths steady underneath him he knows, he can get through just about anything so long as he has you.

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