quick question, what is bullseyes song? like every character has a song people edit them to the most so whats bullseyes? my thoughts are sexy boy by air OR if we’re talking wilson bethel and fbi dex im thinking literally any ethel cain song
You are allowed to find things hot in theory while also never wanting to actually do them in real life btw. You can get off on whatever wild shit in your imagination and still prefer to be very vanilla in real life. Or not want to have sex at all in real life. You don't owe the universe anything in exchange for your dirty mind.
author’s note: this became so much longer than i ever expected it to be lmao enjoy🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The call from the hospital came the moment you stepped inside your apartment. You didn’t even have time to put your work bag down before the phone in your kitchen began incessantly ringing.
If you hadn’t been expecting a call from a friend of a friend about whether or not your art pieces would be making it into her show in two weeks, you probably wouldn’t have answered the phone. You had made it a point to always have at least an hour to yourself once you were home after work as a way to decompress; you loved your students and your job, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t exhausting sometimes.
Within the first few seconds, you learned that you weren’t getting a call from Trish, and instead it was a nurse from Hawkins Memorial telling you that Steve was in the hospital and she was calling you because apparently you were his emergency contact.
“Oh, um, what?” Was all you managed to get out at first because of how confused you were by this abrupt phone call.
“He just got here due to a head injury. He’s doing okay right now, but the doctor thinks he might have a concussion. If you could get here as soon as you can, that would be great.”
How could you tell this nurse in a succinct number of words that it didn’t make sense that you were still Steve’s emergency contact— that you shouldn’t have been— because you two hadn’t seen or talked to one another since you broke up ten months ago? How could you also say that the last ten months had felt like years, so hearing Steve’s name for the first time since then was completely jarring, but also there were some moments where the breakup felt like only yesterday, so the immediate worry you started feeling upon hearing that Steve was in the hospital was unfamiliar but understandable? How could you tell her that your mind had suddenly become a weird, contradictory mess?
The answer was that you couldn’t say any of that because she definitely wouldn’t care to hear it. She was simply just doing her job, which meant calling the emergency contact number that was listed on file and informing them of blah, blah, blah. You weren’t going to burden her with the logistics and technicalities of your and Steve’s relationship (well, lack thereof) and history.
“Um, yes, yeah, sure,” You responded instead. “I’ll be there soon.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Don’t you think that’s kind of selfish?” He asked, his voice soft and unmistakably confused.
“Honestly, I think what’s selfish is us staying together when we both know that we want completely different things.”
It was hard not to replay the last conversation you and Steve had on what felt like a constant loop as you drove to the hospital.
You really didn’t want to see him, you realized.
When you walked out of his house for the last time, you planned to never see him again; mainly because it made the most sense. Some exes could be friends with each other, but that never felt like it could be the case for you and Steve.
You didn’t break up because you stopped loving each other; you broke up because love wasn’t enough.
How deeply you loved each other couldn’t change the fact that you and he wanted two entirely different things out of life. And it got to the point where you two could no longer pretend and avoid that obvious truth.
You had no idea what it would be like to see Steve for the first time in almost a year. You’d gotten so good at not thinking about him, at pushing away any and all thoughts that involved him or what your relationship was.
Honestly, there was a good chance that he’d hate seeing you again, but knowing Steve, he’d never say that to your face, which in some ways was kind of worse. If he was genuinely upset about seeing you again, you’d rather he just be honest about it.
Finding parking ended up being a lot easier than you expected it to be, and you thought that maybe that was a sign from the universe telling you that everything would be fine. You let that bit of potential false confidence lead you inside the hospital.
The older woman at the front desk was quick to tell you what room Steve was in, and you followed the proper signs until you were at his door.
You peeked through the small window on the door and saw Steve sitting upright on the side of the hospital bed with an ice pack to the left side of his forehead, and his eyes were shut.
You took a breath and gave the door a quick knock before walking in and grabbing his attention. “Hi.”
Steve gave you the most confused look you’d probably ever seen from him. “Are you actually here right now, or is the concussion worse than what the doctor initially thought?”
“I would joke and say, yes, you are hallucinating right now, but given the current circumstances, that would probably be a really shitty thing to do,” You responded as you closed the door behind you. “So, yeah, to answer your question, I am actually here right now. No, you’re not going insane.”
The confused look didn’t falter. “Why— How are you here right now?”
“Apparently, I’m still down as your emergency contact.”
“Oh,” He said; it all seemed to click into place for him. “Shit, I’m sorry. I completely forgot about that.”
“It’s fine. Honestly, I think you’re probably still mine too. Who actually remembers to change it?” You responded, trying to keep things light and as normal as they could be in this moment.
Steve gave you a quick nod in understanding in response, and before things could descend into an inevitable awkward silence, you gestured to the ice pack pressed to his head. “Um, so what happened?”
“I got hit with a baseball at practice,” He answered, and you probably should’ve figured that was the case considering what he was currently wearing; the typical white polo, khaki pants, and blue bomber jacket. “One of the kids said he wanted to try out pitching. And I now know that he has a great arm, but really bad aim. With a little more practice, I think he will be our best pitcher, though.”
You were suddenly reminded of why you’d fallen for Steve two years ago. Even though he was in the hospital because of this kid who accidentally hurled a ball at his head, his injury seemed like the least of his worries. You had always admired how much he loved his job and how proud he always was of the kids he worked with.
“How are you feeling?” You asked because someone needed to worry, and as the emergency contact, that felt like it was technically your job.
“My head still kinda hurts, but I feel okay right now,” He said as he readjusted his ice pack. “I got really dizzy after the initial hit and a little nauseous too, which is what made one of the parents call an ambulance, and the doctor thinks I just have a mild concussion, but he still wants to keep me here for an hour or two for observation to make sure it’s nothing worse.”
“Oh, okay, that’s good,” You said, nodding. “Not the concussion, obviously, but the fact that it’s probably just a mild one.”
Steve nodded too, and you didn’t know what else to say, so you didn’t say anything. You let your eyes roam around the small hospital room and noticed the tiny TV on the wall; you wished that it was on to fill the unmistakable awkward silence.
“You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” Steve said after a long beat of silence. “I hope you don’t feel obligated to be here right now.”
“It’s okay,” You told him. “I wanna be here.”
Weirdly enough, your words actually felt truthful, and you did not want to think about why that was the case.
Steve gave you a small smile. “Thanks.”
You sat down in the chair that was tucked in the corner of the room, and Steve shifted around so that he was facing you. “So, aside from what happened today, how have you been?”
“Um, yeah, good. Everything’s been pretty much the same for me since we…” Steve trailed off, trying to figure out how to finish his statement. “Since the last time we saw each other.” You figured it was less awkward to say that than to say ‘since we broke up.’ “Oh, well, except Thompson finally retired, so I’m teaching general Health now in addition to Sex Ed.”
Hearing that surprised you. “Whoa, I can’t believe he retired. I seriously thought he would be at the school forever.”
“Yeah, me too, honestly,” Steve responded. “But he’s moving to Florida because he wants to be closer to his son and grandkids.”
“That’s actually really sweet.”
The older man, formerly known as Mr. Thompson, had always been tough and kinda mean (which made sense to you because it just seemed so stereotypical), but it warmed your heart to learn that there was a bit of a softer side to him.
“How have you been?” Steve asked. “How have the new town and new school been treating you?”
“It’s all been really good, honestly,” You answered, and it was the wholehearted truth. You didn’t think about what the implications of your answer could be. If Steve would read deeply into the simple sentence and feel offended or upset by your words because they implied that you were doing good without him.
But, you refused to allow yourself to walk on eggshells about what he was maybe thinking or feeling. If you thought too hard about every little thing, you wouldn’t be able to have a conversation with him.
He followed up with another question. “Better than Hawkins?”
You nodded, not thinking too hard about your answer and just simply going with your gut. “Better than Hawkins.”
“Ouch,” Steve responded, placing his free hand over his heart in an overdramatic fashion. “That feels like treason or something.”
You laughed a little. “I don’t think that’s how treason works, but I get what you mean.”
“The kids miss you a lot,” Steve said, slightly shifting the subject. “The new art teacher is much more… traditional than what you used to do with them.”
A small frown tugged at your lips. “No more outdoor classes?”
“Nope, and I hear complaints probably once a week about how deeply those are missed,” Steve answered. “Oh, and that music thing you’d do on Fridays where you’d play a song and tell the kids to paint how they’re feeling as they listen to it, they really miss that too.”
Inwardly, you smiled; that was always one of your favorite things to do in your classroom, and kids always seemed to love it too.
“What does the new teacher do?”
“According to the kids, nothing fun. But I haven’t popped in on one of her classes yet, so I don’t know exactly how overdramatic they’re being.”
“Tell them I miss them too,” You said, and then considered your words. “Or, wait, would that make things worse?”
“Yeah, they’d probably revolt and start striking until you came back,” Steve responded playfully, giving you a smile.
You couldn’t help it, you smiled back. “Well, we definitely can’t have that, so don’t mention to them that you saw me.”
“Once I’m back to school on Monday, I’ll pretend that this interaction never happened.”
You nodded at that, still failing to hold back your smile. “Good.”
This was fine; this was easy. But also maybe it was too fine and too easy. In the grand scheme of what this current situation was, things effortlessly falling back into a comfortable territory between you and Steve was good, but in some ways it was also dangerous.
The kind of dangerous that made you realize that you needed to get out of here sooner rather than later, before you fell into an all too familiar deep end.
You opened your mouth to say not exactly that but a version of it— “Hey, so I gotta head home and work on a bunch of school stuff; new lesson plans and whatnot. I hope your head feels better soon. It was good seeing you.”
However, before even the “hey” could form on your lips, the door opened, and in walked who you could only assume was the doctor.
“Hey, Mr. Harrington, how’s your head feeling?”
Steve shifted around so that he was facing him and pulled the ice pack off of his forehead. “Still a little throbby, but a lot better than an hour ago.”
The doctor nodded at that, and then his eyes settled on the clipboard in his hand. “You still feeling nauseous?”
“No.”
“Any more dizziness?”
“No.”
“Okay, that’s good.” He set the clipboard to the side and pulled out one of those doctor-type flashlights from his chest pocket, flashing a light into Steve’s left eye for a quick second and then doing the same to his right. He then inspected the bruise on Steve’s forehead. “You’re looking a lot better than how you were an hour ago, which is great. Do you have ibuprofen at home?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Steve answered.
“Okay, take that to help with your headache. Your girlfriend can take you home now.”
“She’s not my girlfriend.”
“I’m not his girlfriend.”
The slightly different sentences practically stumbled over each other as you and Steve both rushed to make the correction.
“Sorry, my mistake,” The doctor said as he picked up his clipboard again. “Your friend here can take you home.”
Steve shook his head. “She can’t do that either.”
You jumped in before you could potentially think better of it. “Yes, I can. It’s fine.”
Steve turned to look at you. “You sure?”
“Yeah, it’s okay,” You told him with a quick nod. “Promise.”
You didn’t know why you were doing this. You had been moments away from telling Steve that you had to leave, and now you had impulsively roped yourself into taking him home?
It was probably a bad idea, but what would the other option have been? Let Steve take a cab home from the hospital? Even you could recognize how severely messed up that would be.
“Okay, that’s settled then. If any symptoms start coming back, or your headache gets worse even with the medicine, or anything like that, come right back to the emergency room,” The doctor said, to which Steve nodded understandingly, and then he left the room, leaving you and Steve alone again.
“I’m not parked too far from here,” You said, breaking the quiet as you stood up from your chair.
Steve followed suit, standing up from the hospital bed. “Okay, lead the way.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Ten Months Ago
“Oh my god, what are you doing?” It was the first thing that came to your mind, and you couldn’t help but blurt the words out.
They definitely were not the average response that someone would have to their long-time boyfriend proposing to them, but your gut instinct was telling you to run away from this entire moment, so you did exactly that, or at least something that felt equivalent to that but slightly less insane.
You quickly turned away from Steve, leaving him alone in his bedroom, and rushed to the bathroom down the hall, closing and locking the door behind you.
You looked at yourself in the mirror for the briefest second before turning away and leaning back against the sink.
The last minute started flashing in your head on what felt like an endless loop. Steve down on one knee. Steve holding the velvet box in his hand. Steve smiling up at you. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t push the look on his face out of your head, the hopeful and genuinely happy look in his eyes.
God, you felt like you could throw up.
Why was he doing this? Why was he ruining something that was so damn good?
The sound you expected to hear came moments later; three quick knocks against the bathroom door.
“What just happened?” Steve’s voice was only slightly muffled through the door.
“I could ask you the same thing,” You said, making your voice loud enough so he could hear you, because in this moment you refused to open the door.
“I was about to ask you to marry me, and you ran away.” He sounded genuinely hurt, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
Your heart was pounding in your ears. “Why were you about to ask that, Steve?”
“It felt right.”
“We’ve talked about this.”
“We talked about it one time almost a year ago. I thought maybe things changed,” He responded, his voice so soft that it almost felt too hard to hear him. “We’ve been so good. It felt like the right time to do this, the right next step for us.”
Finally, you unlocked the door and pulled it open. Your eyes met Steve’s as you quietly shook your head.
Before he could question what your head shake meant, you started speaking. “Nothing has changed for me.”
A sad look crossed his eyes for the briefest of moments. “Nothing?”
You shook your head again instead of verbally saying anything because you didn’t trust your voice in this moment. You watched as Steve seemed to process your nonverbal response as he walked into the bathroom and sat down on the shut toilet seat.
You watched him for a second longer before moving toward him and settling yourself in his lap. Steve accepted the action immediately, hands finding your hips like it was second nature to do so.
“I like things as they are,” You told him, letting your own hands settle on his shoulders. “I love things as they are with us. Why does it have to change?”
“Because we love each other,” He answered, as if that was the secret to the universe. “Because I want us to have more.”
In hindsight, you should’ve seen this coming. Fundamentally, you and Steve were different. He wanted the traditional things that some people wanted in life; marriage, kids, being happily settled down in one place.
And you didn’t want any of that. Quite honestly, the thought of having any of those things had never made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Instead, it made you feel stuck.
You and Steve knew this about each other from the beginning. After you met him when you started teaching at Hawkins Middle and you two became friends, and before he kissed you for the first time at the annual Sno Ball dance because you two could no longer seem to deny the obvious.
You both knew that in the grand scheme of things, what you wanted out of life was completely different. However, everything else about you two together was perfect, so you two decided to push this one minor (read: huge) difference to the side because what was the point of thinking about things that would be years down the road during the early stages of your relationship?
Except now it was no longer the “early stages” of the relationship, and it seemed like you two were finally hitting that crossroads.
Because Steve wanted more.
And you honestly couldn’t even fault him for that. You and he had been together for almost two years at this point; it made sense that he wanted more.
And you loved Steve, but that didn’t change who you were.
“I don’t want that,” You told him softly. “I don’t want anything more.”
His eyes searched yours for something that you weren’t sure if you were able to give him. “But maybe you will eventually?”
You really wished that you could’ve said yes to him. Yes, your feelings toward marriage and kids and that sort of life-changing commitment would eventually change, and instead you’d want exactly what he wanted.
However, you had never lied to Steve, and you didn’t want to start now.
“I don’t know. I don’t think so,” You admitted honestly.
His eyes dropped from yours, and you could tell by the look on his face that he was thinking, really thinking, and you had no idea what he was about to say.
“Okay,” He ultimately said and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, which surprised you. “That’s— that’s okay. Let’s just pretend this whole thing never happened. We’ll keep things as they are with us, and yeah. Let’s forget this happened.”
Steve’s hands moved from your hips so that he could wrap his arms around you completely, pulling you into him. You almost let yourself fully lean into his touch and let yourself forget what had happened barely ten minutes ago, just like he said, but you couldn’t.
“No, I don’t wanna forget about it,” You said as you pulled back a little.
If you two forgot about this, wouldn’t this all just repeat itself eventually? You felt the need to face it head-on now.
Steve’s eyes met yours. “I don’t mean forget about it forever. I just mean let’s push it to the side for now and revisit it later. Maybe then you’ll have changed your mind, or maybe I’ll want what you want. We can talk about all of this again some other time. A few months from now, maybe?”
A part of you wished that you could be as hopeful as him. Instead, you sighed. “I don’t wanna revisit this conversation ever again.”
“Don’t you think that’s kind of selfish?” He asked, his voice soft and unmistakably confused.
“Honestly, I think what’s selfish is us staying together when we both know that we want completely different things,” You said as you detangled yourself from him and stood up. “Pretending like everything is fine and hoping that one of us will eventually change is not fair to either of us.”
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. “So, what are you saying?”
Please don’t make me say it.
You quietly stared at him, and he stared right back, until you took the cowardly way out and turned around because it felt physically impossible to look at him as you said the words.
“We should break up.”
You heard his quiet scoff first, and then you heard his footsteps receding down the hallway.
I’m sorry.
You wanted to say that out loud too, but the sudden lump in your throat made it feel entirely too hard to speak.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Being back at Steve’s place for the first time in ten months felt weird. But specifically being back in the bathroom where everything happened felt like the worst kind of déjà vu.
You quickly grabbed the bottle of ibuprofen from Steve’s medicine cabinet and then promptly left the small space so that you could push away all of the harsh memories that were starting to hit you.
You handed the bottle over to Steve, who was at his kitchen sink, filling a glass with water.
“Thanks,” He said as he grabbed the bottle from your outstretched hand and then opened it up to take two pills. “You still want the leftover spaghetti, right?”
“Yes, I’d never pass up your spaghetti,” You answered him. “And I’m also starving right now because I haven’t eaten since my lunch hour at school, so I'd honestly probably take any food from you right now.”
During the drive from the hospital, you asked Steve if he wanted to stop somewhere to pick up something for dinner, but he said that he had leftover food from last night that he was going to eat, and he told you that you could join him too if you wanted. When you two left the hospital, your initial plan had been to just drop him off once you got to his house, but you really did love his spaghetti.
You two ended up on Steve’s couch in his living room, bowls in hand and half watching the sitcom that was playing on the TV.
“I’m just now realizing that I asked you about school and teaching, but I didn’t ask about how your own art is going,” Steve said, turning to look at you. “How is it?”
That question didn’t necessarily surprise you; Steve had always been one of your biggest supporters when it came to your art. Constantly lingering at the door of your “art studio,” which was set up in the empty bedroom in your apartment, because he was always just so curious to see what you were working on. And you’d constantly shoo him away because you didn’t like anyone seeing your works in progress.
“But I love seeing the process. It’s really cool,” He’d say with a pout on his face that he hoped would convince you to let him continue his observing, and you’d kiss him on the cheek before still shooing him away. The pout only sometimes worked.
“I just finished this new collection two weeks ago, and I’m hoping it gets picked to be a part of this showcase that a friend of a friend is having at her art gallery at the end of the month,” You answered as you mindlessly twirled some spaghetti around on your fork and focused your eyes on that instead of Steve. “And I also got selected for an art residency in Maine. It starts at the end of June and goes until late August.”
“Wow, that’s awesome. Congrats,” Steve responded, and he sounded so genuinely happy for you that you finally met his eyes.
“Thanks,” You said, suddenly feeling insanely shy for some reason, even though you hadn’t felt that way around Steve in ages.
“Hey, if your work does get picked for the art show, let me know when it is. I definitely wanna come and check it out.”
You nodded before you could think better of it. “Yeah, of course.”
It would be pretty safe to say that all logical thinking had officially been thrown out the window for you, which was probably a bad thing, but it was too hard to pretend that this wasn’t nice. And for the time being, you allowed yourself to lean into it.
You set your empty bowl on the coffee table and then looked at Steve again. “Do you have cookies?”
“Of course. I always keep chocolate chip stocked,” Steve answered, and you smiled, glad that that was something that hadn’t changed in the past ten months.
He grabbed your bowl off the table, stacking it on top of his, and then headed into the kitchen. You followed him, watching as he placed the bowls in the sink and then headed to his pantry. The light above the stove was the only thing that brought some soft light to the kitchen, but it was hard not to immediately take notice of the all too familiar blue Chips Ahoy! packaging that Steve pulled out from the pantry. He set it on the counter near the stove and opened it, offering it to you first.
A silence that was entirely different from what it had felt like at the hospital started to linger as you two leaned against the counter and shared chocolate chip cookies. This quiet was comfortable, and a perfectly welcoming contrast from how things had felt earlier. It made you forget that this “comfortable territory” was the exact thing that you had wanted to avoid back at the hospital because it would probably only make things harder.
It would make leaving harder, it would make forgetting about Steve again harder, it would make everything harder.
“Okay, please feel free to tell me to fuck off with this question, but I’m just… I guess I’m just kinda curious,” Steve said, breaking through your thoughts. He paused for a second, and you looked at him, unsure what he was about to say. “Are you dating right now?”
That was not at all what you were expecting him to ask you. It actually managed to surprise you so much, in comparison to what you had just been thinking about, that your immediate thought was to simply be honest.
“Oh, um, yeah, I’ve been on a few dates here and there, but nothing serious.” You shrugged like none of those prior dates had mattered, which they hadn’t. You considered not asking him the question back, but you suddenly became too curious not to. “What about you?”
“Nothing serious either,” Steve answered, and you nodded instead of saying anything.
You thought about asking him why he wanted to know about your current dating life, but a part of you didn’t want to hear the answer, whatever it would be. It would probably only add to the growing list of reasons why you shouldn’t be at Steve’s place in this moment. The growing list that you still refused to listen to.
You grabbed another cookie and leaned back against the counter, looking away from Steve. You silently wondered if his dating life resembled yours in any way. If the dates he’d been on since the breakup were also a series of duds that were defined by awkwardness, having little to nothing in common, and shitty kisses.
Would that be too weird to talk about?
Or was this entire moment slightly weird and unprecedented, so actually there was nothing that could be deemed as “off limits”?
You finished the rest of your cookie and decided to go with the latter. “Can I be embarrassingly honest right now?”
Steve didn’t hesitate to nod. “Shoot.”
“All the dates I’ve been on have sucked, pretty much. They’re either terribly boring or disgustingly awkward, and somehow I end up with the worst kissers ever, too,” You told him. Admitting that definitely felt just as embarrassing as you thought it would feel, but it also felt kind of nice to put that out in the open for absolutely no reason at all. “And granted, I’ve only kissed three people since we broke up, but still, absolutely no comparison to you.”
“That is probably the best compliment I’ve ever gotten,” Steve said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Thank you.”
“And now you’re supposed to return the compliment and say that I’m the best kisser you’ve ever had too.” You were mostly joking with your words, but you were still kind of curious to hear Steve’s response.
His smile only seemed to grow. “No one else has ever come close to you.”
You smiled back at him. “Thank you.”
Steve was the one to break eye contact after a moment, grabbing another cookie and focusing on that for a moment.
“Honestly, I think that’s one of the things I miss the most. Out of the physical stuff, at least,” He abruptly said, meeting your eyes again. “Kissing.”
You nodded your head immediately. “God, yes, I swear it’s one of the most underrated things ever when it’s actually the most important.”
“And it’s very fun.”
“Very fun,” You agreed.
Perhaps it would’ve been better to use past tense when it came to basically talking about kissing each other, but neither of you decided to correct yourselves. You also didn’t look away from each other, even as a long quiet began to stretch and build a home in the air of the kitchen. It felt as if you both were silently daring the other to be the one to look away first. But you refused to lose this sudden staring contest, and apparently, Steve didn’t want to lose either.
The amount of current space between you two had already been minimal, but in this moment, it was continuing to shrink. It was almost as if there was some imaginary force pushing you two together, when in actuality, it was simply just your bodies moving faster than your minds. One second you were blinking, and in the next you both were closing the final bit of distance between you two, meeting halfway.
Your arms came up to loosely wrap around Steve’s shoulders and his immediately circled your waist, drawing you as close as you could be to him. The look on his face in this moment— a look so full of pure want and adoration— should’ve scared you, but you instead let it put your heart at ease for the time being.
You decided to do something that you’d probably deem stupid in a week’s time once logical thinking finally sank in. However, even though you would probably consider it stupid, you weren’t sure if you’d end up completely regretting it.
And that final thought was what made you press your lips against his, letting your heart lead you entirely in this moment. Steve tasted like the cookies you two had just been eating, so sweet and perfect, and you immediately realized just how goddamn right you’d been. Kissing Steve was one of the best things ever, and it wasn’t even over yet, but you were already missing the feeling of his mouth on yours.
Steve’s hands tightened on your waist as he maneuvered you two around so that you were pressed back against the counter, and yours dropped from his hair and found the edge of the counter so that you could push yourself up. Your lips detached from Steve’s for the briefest second before both of your hands were cupping his face and you were leaning in again.
You turned your mind off completely and only decided to focus on the feeling of Steve. His mouth on yours, his slightly grown-out hair brushing against your forehead, and his warm hands that you could feel through the thin fabric of your shirt. He gave your hips a squeeze, and you let out a soft sound that drove Steve absolutely insane and made him groan into the kiss too.
His left hand was moments away from slipping under your shirt, but then he was abruptly pulling away from you completely and taking a few steps back.
He covered his face with his hands for a moment and then looked at you. “I’m sorry.”
You blinked at him, unable to say anything for a moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest due to what you two had just been doing, and your mind felt effectively fuzzy. You shook your head in confusion. “What? Sorry for what?”
“I’m sorry for proposing to you back then,” Steve answered, which only furthered your bewilderment. “It was a shit thing to do when we really hadn’t talked about it enough, and the only time we had talked about it was when you told me that you were against it.”
The timing of all of this didn’t really make sense to you. Your body still felt like it was on fire because of the kiss, and going from that to an entirely serious conversation felt like an insane kind of whiplash.
“Why are you thinking about that right now?”
“Because…” He trailed off with a sigh and pushed a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I never said it in the moment, and then I don’t know why I was thinking about it in this moment, but I just realized that I never apologized at all, and I suddenly felt so shitty about that.”
“I don’t— You don’t… There’s—” You took a breath and tried to get your thoughts together. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. I don’t think I was ever really upset with you for proposing. I think I was… more sad, if anything? And not because you proposed, but because that whole thing just forced us to look at our relationship and how different we are, and yeah.”
You shrugged after saying your final words because you didn’t know what else to do or say, and your eyes dropped from his.
“I’m sorry too, though,” You abruptly told him before he could say anything about what you had just said. “For kissing you like two seconds ago. That was… It was— It probably wasn’t the right thing to do.”
He shook his head, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t be sorry about that. If you hadn’t done it, I definitely would’ve.”
You let out a laugh at his words because you couldn’t help it, they were a nice contrast from the seriousness of the conversation, and you reached out so that you could grab his hand and pull him in for a hug. His arms instinctively circled around your waist, and yours came up to wrap around his neck. Kissing Steve was great, but this was really good too, and you knew that you’d miss it just as much.
“I can be different,” Steve mumbled into your neck. “I can just decide to want something different, if it means getting to be with you.”
You took a moment to try and imagine it. Steve not settled down in one place. Steve not surrounded by a gaggle of kids that he called his own. Steve not in a cozy house with a wife who he loved and adored and probably wouldn’t hesitate to die for.
It was a truly sucky thing to picture.
You pulled back so that you could look at him, and your hand found his cheek. “I’d never let you do that.”
He turned his head so that he could kiss the inside of your palm. “Yeah, I’d never let you change either.”
“There were a lot of times right after we ended things that I really wished I wanted what you want,” You said, deciding to dive headfirst into honesty.
Steve gave you a small, sad smile and then pressed his forehead into your shoulder. “Me, too.”
You two stayed like that for the time being. His face in your neck, your chin on his shoulder, and your arms wrapped around one another. Neither of you said the words right then, but both of you knew that this was it. And it wasn’t because either of you wanted that to be the case, but because it had to be. Nothing had changed in the past ten months, and worse than that, nothing would ever change.
It was kind of hard to fully accept that, though, because of how unfair it was.
“So…” Steve pulled back a bit and met your eyes. “Now what?”
You wanted to shake your head and shrug, tell him that you weren’t sure, but you didn’t do that.
“I go home, and we both remember to change our emergency contacts, and…” You trailed off, unsure of how to finish your statement. “And that’s that, I guess.”
“And that’s that…” Steve said, and it was as if he wasn’t entirely sure about the words and wanted to test them out first. “Okay.”
The final word was spoken quietly, and you nodded because what else was there to do, really? Steve pulled away from you completely so that you could hop off the counter, and you missed his warmth immediately, but you, of course, didn’t say that. He followed you to his door, and you slipped on your shoes before turning around to face him.
It wasn’t like you two were breaking up again, but it felt so weirdly close to it. There was a part of you that felt exactly how you had when it happened ten months ago— you didn’t want to leave, but you knew that you had to, and you wanted to cry, but you really didn’t want to break down in front of him.
You forced out a goodbye, and Steve did the same, but before you could turn around again, he reached out and pulled you in. You accepted the embrace immediately, even though you knew it only prolonged the inevitable.
“Thank you for coming to the hospital today,” He whispered. “You didn’t have to, but you did, and I’m really glad you did, so thank you. Seriously.”
You wanted to tell him that there was no need to thank you and that you didn’t mind helping him out today, but instead you said, “You would’ve done the same for me.”
Steve only squeezed you tighter in response and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. It was such a simple and minimal action, but it did a lot to you. You squeezed your eyes shut and willed away the fresh onset of tears that were threatening to spill.
You didn’t want to let go, but you did. And you didn’t want to pull open the front door, but you did that too.
The walk to your car was quicker than you expected it to be. Once you were settled in the driver’s seat, you looked at Steve still standing in his doorway. He waved at you, and you waved back, and then you forced yourself to look away and finally head home.
neeed dex to find out you get turned on from hearing his voice, how it’s sounds and the mesmerizing murmur when he speaks.. he always teasing and whispering to you just to see you squirm and swat at your ears :(
omg and when you suck him off his mouth is just going crazy, hearing the groans of such a good girl taking my dick in that pretty mouth.. and it’s just like ugghh he’ll take you into into his lap later and spread your panties to the side, making fun of you for how wet your are just from hearing him talk
prguitarman
