warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (m x f masturbation, sexual content, overstimulation? oral f receiving)
a/n: i don’t think anyone is surprised that i have found myself here. god save me!! bye!!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You can always tell when Stevens having a bad day.
It’s probably because you watch him all the time, taking note of how his eyes light up when someone asks him a question, or how they get darker throughout the day, especially on Fridays. It’s because of this keen sense of observation that you can see today has taken its toll.
He’s standing behind the desk of the gift shop, sorting tiny hippo toys onto the shelf next to him. His back is half turned away from you, so you can still see his face past his slumped shoulders. He moves slow, taking one toy at a time and spending a little too long placing it before turning all the way around and starting again. He’s usually tired, a little lethargic at the end of the day, but the way he sighs every few minutes and scrunches his eyes trying to force himself to focus makes you realise he’s struggling.
Donna comes up behind him, and he flinches slightly as she starts to speak. Donna can be a bit of a bitch, you know, she’s your boss too, but for some reason every time she yells at Steven it makes you angrier than you can explain. It’s probably to do with the fact that you can’t take your eyes off him - you had developed quite a crush on him ever since you started your exchange here. You were an expert on ancient Egyptian burial customs, and Steven was seemingly the only one in the museum who actually found it interesting. You were used to people being bored by your specialty, but Steven was enthusiastic. He was the only person you had ever met that could talk to you, like really talk to you about the things you studied inside and out. He asked questions and was so attentive - so unlike any of the guys from your home state. He was part of the reason you extended your stay here. Okay, maybe most of the reason.
Summary: Steven never thought he'd end up on a perfect date with you, let alone that you would want to stay the night. If only he'd had time to get rid of the ankle restraints on his bed - or the courage to tell you the truth about his sleepless nights before he spends one with you in his arms.
Pairing: Steven Grant x female!neighbour!reader
Warnings: Mild spoilers for ep 1 (not set anywhere during it), smut (minors DNI), oral sex (male receiving), protected sex, praise kink if you squint; unhealthy amounts of fluff, but also some angst
Word count: ~6.7K
A/n: Title inspired by Kadebostany's "Mind if I stay", especially the lyrics Do you mind if I stay?/I'm the guardian of your nights/Turning your sorrows into gold, which sound exactly like what Steven needs. The whole song is like a nice dialogue between him and reader, if you want to check it out. Hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
***
Steven had no idea how he got where he was.
Well, he hadn't simply woken up in a strange place, as if a whole chunk of his own life had decided to skip being memorized. This time, he did remember the chain of events that had brought him here and now. But as he stood there, taking it in, he still couldn't quite believe his circumstances. It just didn't make sense how things had gone so…
Right.
"The salad was delicious," you smiled at him. You'd been smiling all night, and however hard Steven tried to look for signs that it was only a façade for boredom or pity, he'd found none. You'd spent weeks smiling at him, in fact, ever since the morning you'd happened to leave the flat you'd just moved into at the same time he was rushing out of his, right across the hall from yours. You were pretty in a simple, light make-up and comfy clothes kind of way, a little bit awkward, easy to talk to, and soon enough he'd found himself talking about you all the time. Poor Gus must have grown tired of hearing every single detail about your laugh, your hobbies or your favourite everything, but he kept politely quiet about it. And when Steven had wondered out loud whether he should ask you out, he'd taken the silence of his one-finned friend as a 'yes'.
Your 'yes' had been more along the lines of "Thought you'd never ask."
Before he knew it, he was standing on your doorstep, so stunned at the sight of you all dolled up for your date he almost forgot to offer you the roses. Your make-up was just subtle enough to highlight your natural beauty, and the way your strapless, knee-length blue dress hugged your curves made him blush like a teenager. But it was alright, because you seemed just as giddy on your way downstairs as he was.
By the time you reached the restaurant, almost all nerves were out the window. The conversation never stalled, not even when he caught himself chatting your ear off about the new museum exhibits, freshly brought from Egypt. You weren't much of a history enthusiast, but your curiosity more than made up for it, especially when the topic made his usually tired eyes light up in excitement. You chose not to take a cab on the way back just so you could walk together a little longer, and when he took your hand on impulse, you intertwined your fingers with his and kissed his cheek. To passerbys, the two of you must have looked like a couple of high-school sweethearts, and he sure felt that young with every word and glance you shared.
And now you were back where your evening had started and where you'd first met. Standing in front of him in the hallway between your door and his, you were telling him you'd liked the salad in a tone that seemed to suggest you meant much more than that.
So, no - Steven had no idea how he got here. But he never wanted to go back to a moment before you again.
"Yeah, best I've had. The salad," he agreed, and you shared the kind of soft laugh that led into a lingering silence. You looked so out of place in the dingy building. You should have been surrounded by things as beautiful as you, Steven thought as he took in the sight in front of him for what may have been the last time that night.
Do people kiss on the first date? he wondered in a bit of a panic, cringing internally when he realized just how rusty his social skills were. Not that he remembered a time when they'd been any sharper. He didn't know what was proper - all he knew was that he wanted to kiss you, feel you in his arms as little or as much as you allowed him to. If you allowed him to.
He was torn between the need to find out and the fear of ruining a perfect night, along with his chances of others to come.
But you were making no move to go back to your flat, or even say goodbye. You were simply standing there, lips quirked in the same slightly nervous smile as when he'd picked you up.
"I think this is where I should wait for you to take the hint," you chuckled breathily, and Steven's heart did a somersault when your meaning began to register. You couldn't mean…? "But you don't seem one for social cues any more than I am, so I'm just gonna-"
In one hurried step, as if chasing your nerve before it got away, your hands were on his chest and your lips on his.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd been kissed. Literally. His mind reached for the memory as if looking for reference, and came back empty save for the one sensible conclusion he could have drawn: no kiss could have compared to this.
He'd barely thought it when you pulled back, looking unsure. And that was when he realized his usually fumbling hands were still glued to his side.
Well, that wouldn't do.
"Let me… let me try that again."
He pulled you into the circle of his arms like he'd been yearning to all night. Your beaming smile only blinded him for a moment before he was kissing you again. You tasted of the lemon in your salad and a little bit of wine, and Steven thought he might be content living off nothing but that for the rest of his life. You wrapped your arms around his neck, sighing into his mouth as you pulled him even closer. Somewhere in a distant corner of his mind, Steven knew any of your neighbours could walk out of their flats or the lift at any moment, but it would take a lot more than a few disapproving glances to distract him from the warmth of your body against his, your fingers threading through his hair, the eager way you tasted his mouth as if you couldn't get enough any more than he could.
He never thought he'd be wanted back.
"Steven," you pulled away for a moment, a lovely blush on your cheeks that Steven would have liked to kiss into an even darker shade. He could feel your heart thundering in your chest, and he was pretty sure you could feel his in turn. You shook your head with a laugh, as if you couldn't believe what you were about to say, either. "God, I'm never this forward, but… there's just something about you. I've liked you for a long time and… Mind if I stay? The night, I mean."
"The night? As in… until morning?" Steven blinked at you. There were times during his late night Egyptology study sessions when his brain simply refused to cooperate anymore, and he needed to read the same sentence three times before he could comprehend the meaning of the words together. He found himself in a similar state now.
"Unless… you think it's too soon," you hesitated, loosening your hold on him. "Which is completely fine. I just wasn't quite ready for the night to end."
It was written all over your face - how much you wanted him near. It had him soft and dizzy all at once, and the thought of letting you go for any reason in the world sounded as appalling as flushing Gus down the toilet.
"Stay," he cupped your cheek, marveling at how perfect the reflection of him seemed in your eyes, so far from the plain one in the mirror. "Stay forever if you like."
***
No sooner had Steven closed the door than your mouth was on his again. He wasn't sure who had started it this time, but you'd somehow ended up stumbling inside with your hands roaming over whatever parts of each other's body they could, breaths ragged and lips locked in a kiss as frantic as the privacy of his flat finally allowed.
His flat.
His eyes shot open mid-kiss. The thought of the bed you were most likely headed to felt like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head.
Oh, God. The ankle restraints and the sand-
You were nibbling on his lip, and it took him a heroic amount of concentration to spin the two of you around so you were the one facing the door instead.
"Um… I… hm…"
Even if he could break away between kisses enough to articulate a sentence, he had no idea what in the world he would say. You hummed in question, freeing his lips only for yours to trail along his jaw.
"Is, um… is this going where…?"
You broke away to look at him. "I mean, if you want to."
He was going to die. Either from having to refuse you, or from not refusing you, and watching you run for the hills when his bed turned out to be the definition of a red flag. He was going to leave his poor mom one last voicemail, and then die.
"I do," he said, barely keeping his inner torment from bleeding into his voice. "Do-do you?"
"Thought I'd made that quite clear," you smiled sweetly, taking his hands and a couple of playful steps backwards to lead him further inside. It would have crushed him to hear otherwise, but…
Now you were turning around to face the bed, and Steven spun you back into his arms with a panicked, "But!"
"But?"
"But…"
Bugger, you were blinking at him in confusion and he had no idea whatsoever how to explain his sudden mood shifts. "I really wasn't expecting this at all, you see… and I haven't… didn't prepare…"
"Got no condoms?" you offered helpfully, used to his nervous stutters.
"Yes," he took your excuse, voice wavering in defeat. "Yes, that's it."
"That's alright," you nodded hastily. "You didn't assume."
"Not in a million years." And now his weird night habits were screwing it up, just like they did with everything else that could have been good in his life. Tears of familiar frustration stung his eyes. "I'm so sorry-"
"I've got some in my flat," you were quick to suggest, unfazed.
Your flat. Your perfectly normal, red-flag-free flat.
Steven could have cried with joy.
"Oh, thank God," he kissed you, laughing his relief against your lips. "Yes, let's go there-"
"We can't, my flat mate's home." He was already shooting towards the door when you stopped him. "I'll just go get them real quick and I'll be back in no time."
With an excited peck to the cheek, you were out the door, flashing him a smile full of promises before you shut it behind you.
The moment he was alone, Steven thanked whatever deity was there to hear for the few moments he'd been blessed with. He sprinted towards the bed, glaring at the ankle restraint as if it had insulted his mother and his goldfish.
"Not tonight, mate," he groaned as he scrambled to unfasten the restraint from the wooden pillar next to the foot of his bed. He stuffed it in the nearest drawer and slammed it shut with a vengeance and a breath of relief.
Only to promptly realize there was still a ring of sand around his bed to get rid of.
He threw Gus a despairing glance, "I don't suppose you'd lend me your good finn?"
***
Not much later, your voice rang through his flat.
"Got it!" You burst through the door, fumbling to turn at least one of the multiple locks in your excited frenzy before you rushed further in. "Last one left, can you believe it? My flatmate's boyfriend-"
You froze, taken aback by the bizarre sight you'd happened upon - Steven, sweeping the proverbial dust under the rug. Except the dust was a thick layer of sand which he was desperately trying to sweep beneath the bed with a broom. He startled and dropped it when he realized you'd seen him, then yelped again when the handle clattered to the floor.
"It's not what it looks like!" he threw his hands up, very much a deer in headlights.
"What… does it look like? Genuine question, I've got no clue," you huffed an unsure chuckle.
"Oh," he glanced at the mess on the floor, realizing it really didn't look like anything but a weird choice of interior design. But you were standing there with a little silver package in your hand, expecting an explanation, and part of him was a bit relieved he might not have to pretend like the secret of his sleepless nights didn't exist.
"Well, the truth is… the truth about me is… I have trouble sleeping. And that’s why I need the sand."
"You need sand… to sleep?"
"I need sand to…"
To check in the morning whether I've gone haunting the streets in my sleep like a bloody zombie.
"...to keep bad energies away," he forced himself to say, losing his nerve. "Old... Egyptian superstition. The circle is supposed to… yeah."
He didn't know what he hated more. The lame-ass lie he'd come up with, how painfully unconvincing he was serving you said lame-ass lie, or the fact that the kindest, prettiest girl he'd ever met was standing in his messy flat, willing, even eager to get to know him intimately despite all his little screw-ups, and he was repaying you with dishonesty.
"Oh. Is that why you were freaking out earlier? You've got a weird habit?"
The way you said it, it sounded like no big deal. And it wouldn't have been, if only it were the truth. But you took his guilty silence as a 'yes'.
"Alright, well… here goes. I can't sleep with the light off," you confessed a bit sheepishly. "If I'm sleeping alone, I need a night lamp, no matter how weak. There's something about having nothing but moonlight. It can be romantic, but when I'm alone, it just feels cold. Gives me shivers." You did shake your head, as if to chase away the feeling you were describing. "So, there you have it. You've got a weird habit, I've got a childish one," you shrugged. "I guess being perfect just doesn't work out for some people."
Except, you were the closest to perfect Steven could imagine in that moment. Trying to relate, offer up a little part of yourself so he wouldn't feel as uneasy about his own.
"I don't like the night either. Too many things happen in the dark," he confessed quietly. The closest he'd ever gotten to the truth with someone who could actually answer. That was when he realized it was dark, save from the silver moonlight coming through the window. "If you want me to turn on the light…"
"No," you dismissed with a light chuckle. You took a few tentative steps towards him, looking to return to the closeness between you from before. "This is one of those 'romantic' times."
"It is, isn't it?" Steven agreed softly. He couldn’t not, when the dim light made you glow so beautifully. Any thought of sand forgotten, he met you halfway. "You still want to…?"
You laid your hands on his shoulders like before, and he on your waist. "Yeah. I want to. You?"
"So much."
With that, his lips covered yours again, and it filled him with delight to find the feeling was already becoming familiar. This time, there was no rush. He took his time tasting your lips, and then finally gave into his impulse to kiss his way down your neck, press his lips to the inviting skin whose softness he already couldn't get enough of.
You made a small sound of content as he nibbled there, arching your neck. But soon you gently pulled him back by his hair, darkening eyes meeting his briefly before you turned around.
"Unzip me," you murmured over your shoulder, already a bit breathless.
For a moment, Steven simply laid his hands on your bare shoulders and leaned in, nose brushing your hair as he took in the scent of your perfume. Another flavour that would haunt all the waking hours he forced himself into.
There was no thinking about that now. There was only you and the bare expense of skin beneath his unbelievably lucky hands, with the promise of more at his fingertips. He gladly obeyed you, taking in every new inch of you revealed to him as he slowly pulled down your zipper. His breath hitched when he realized you weren't wearing a bra, since the upper side of your dress already served as one. He carefully slid the piece of clothing off your body, feeling your breath catch with every brush of his fingers, until the fabric pooled to the floor and you stepped out of it, facing him in nothing but a pair of simple black panties.
"Wasn't prepared, either," you confessed a bit self-consciously. Your hands returned to his shoulders, not quite sure what to do. "Would have worn something sexier."
Steven couldn't imagine a sexier picture for the life of him. Your name fell off his lips like a prayer, hands reaching for your waist as if he still couldn't believe he was allowed to touch something so precious. "You're bloody gorgeous," he breathed out, unable to tear his eyes away from the curves your dress had only hinted at.
Your smile returned, even gaining a sensual tint. You leaned into him.
"You're not too bad yourself."
Your breath ghosted over his ear, and somehow, out of everything you'd done so far, that was what had his pants feeling tight, or at least made him aware of the blood rushing below his waist. He would have tightened his hold around you then and crushed you to him in sheer adoration, but you left a teasing kiss on his cheek and skilfully untangled yourself from his arms. He watched, mesmerized by your every move as you strolled to his bed and lay down on his sheets.
"Are you planning to wear all that?" you teased. Steven couldn't get over how utterly comfortable you looked like that, head resting on the same pillows he did as he stared at the ceiling every night, idly fiddling with the condom wrapping in your hands. But he tore his eyes away to take a look at himself, still fully clothed while you were almost bare.
"Wouldn't want to catch a chill, would I?" the joke stumbled out and he immediately cringed, but you only smiled fondly at him. He wasn't sure what he was saying anymore - his heart felt like it was about to either stop or race its way out of his chest.
His fingers trembled slightly as he unbuttoned his black shirt. He chucked it to the ground, followed by his pants. His body was surprisingly lean for a guy whose only jogging routine was chasing the bus, but that, at least, was an oddity that worked to his advantage. He felt the opposite of meek and clumsy as you bit on your cheek, eyes wandering over his almost naked form. When they met his again, he couldn't refuse the unspoken invitation. His instincts wanted him to crawl over you, but when he reached the bed, he found himself laying down next to you instead. Your eyebrows lifted briefly in surprise, but not an unpleasant one. You left the condom on the mattress and simply played along, turning on your side so you were facing him, meeting his soft gaze.
It was a beautiful vantage point - his head resting on his pillow as he looked into your eyes, your head on the pillow next to his. No ankle restraint, no Rubik's cube to keep him awake. He wasn't planning on sleeping tonight, either, but it was nice to get a taste of what it might be like if he could, with you by his side.
"What is it?" you asked eventually, noticing the dreamy look whose significance you didn't fully grasp on his face. Steven shook his head with an adoring smile.
"Nothing, it's just… I like you a lot. Love looking at you."
Your gaze softened, heart squeezing in your chest.
"You're the kindest man I've ever met," you said in earnest.
He had to kiss you. He had to, before he opened his mouth and said something ridiculous like 'I love you', which he was pretty sure he couldn't get away with so soon despite how fast everything was already happening.
So, he pressed his lips to yours again. You both shuffled closer on the mattress until you were embracing on your sides, flush against each other. Everything was heaven, from the softness of your breasts pressed into his chest to your hands exploring his skin to his growing hardness pressing against your heat at the juncture of your tangled legs, nothing but the fabric of your underwear and his to stop him from feeling your wetness.
For a while, you fell into a teasing rhythm, hips lightly grinding together as Steven delighted in your little moans. They gave him the boldness to cup one of your breasts and knead it with gentle fingers, relishing the way your soft flesh fit perfectly in the palm of his hand. You pulled him closer, arched further into his affectionate touches, and soon his mouth was making its way down your neck and chest, eagerly wrapping around your pebbled nipple.
"Steven," you moaned, reaching between you to cup him through his underwear. He groaned as he licked and sucked at your breast, nerves singing as you massaged his aching cock.
"I want… hm," you didn't finish, pushing him onto his back instead so you were straddling his hips. That way, you could rub along his clothed length even better, and your moans turned into whines as you did so a couple of times. When you took hold of the waistband of his underwear, he was more than glad to lift his hips so you could take it off and toss it to the side.
Your gaze lingered on his freed erection, long and hard and aching for your touch. Biting your lip, you leaned over Steven and pressed your lips to his neck, laving his skin with affection before you made your way lower, to his heaving chest, then his surprisingly toned stomach, and when he realized your next stop, he sank a hand into your hair so you would look at him.
"You don't have to…" he shook his head, even as his cock twitched at the very thought of what it would feel like if you did.
"I want to, Steven," you reassured him. "Very much."
You went back to kissing his stomach, and he sent a quiet prayer into the universe not to come on the spot. Your mouth was below his navel, going lower-
The first time you wrapped your lips around his leaking tip, he almost lost it.
"Oh, darling," he breathed out, head slumping on the pillow and eyes falling shut. His fingers tightened a bit in your hair, careful not to push or tug too harshly as you took him in as deeply as you could without discomfort. You stroked the part of him that wouldn't fit with one hand and fondled his balls with the other, so that no inch of him was left neglected while you pleasured him with your mouth. Steven couldn't have been shy about his sounds if he'd wanted to - he panted and moaned in time with your motions, especially on the few occasions you slowed your pace to pay special attention to the sensitive head of his cock, circling it with your tongue.
"Bloody hell," he cursed as he forced himself to push your head away from his throbbing erection and lift himself on one elbow. "I don't want this to be over before I get to…"
"Me neither," you exhaled with matching desire. Crawling up to him, you attached your lips to his once more, and Steven couldn't help but cup you through your panties with a hand more confident than he felt most of the time. The whimper he elicited from you went straight to his cock, and so did what he felt between your legs - you were positively soaked, your arousal all but dripping through the fabric.
"Take them off, Steven," you pleaded, breath mingling with his as you ground against his fingers. "I need you. Please."
You, begging him to take you as if he hadn't been yearning for the slightest touch from you for weeks. It would have been hilarious if it weren't the most erotic thing he'd ever heard, if he weren't more desperate to bring you pleasure than he'd been for anything in his entire life.
He switched your position so he was on top, then wasted no time hooking his fingers into your underwear and working them off you. Once your panties were lying along your dress on the floor and he was left kneeling on the bed between your legs, that familiar thought came again.
How did I get here? Steven wondered, in awe instead of dread. If this was just another of his vivid dreams, he preferred it a thousand times over the violence-filled ones he was used to. Even though it would break him if it turned out it wasn't real. If he woke up to find the moonlit planes of your bare body lying in his bed had been nothing but an illusion, if the raw trust and affection in your eyes were some trick of his touch-starved body and mind.
"God, let this be real," he bent to press a kiss on your stomach with the same reverence he imagined he would have shown a goddess of old, had he been living in a chapter of the Egyptology books keeping him up at night. He paved the way up to your chest with kisses, drawing out a sigh from you as he tenderly sucked on one nipple like he'd learned you liked. He didn't realize he'd spoken the words out loud until your fingers tangled in his messy hair to make him meet your gaze.
"What's going on inside that head of yours?" you mused softly.
He brought his head level with yours, staring into your eyes as if the answer might be there.
"Wish I knew."
But in that moment, he really didn't. It was quite enough to lay his lips on yours and taste your mouth as you eagerly allowed him in for the thousandth time that night. The head of his cock kept brushing against your folds, making you whimper as you bucked your hips in search of more friction. He slid a hand down your body to give you just that.
Like he'd felt before, there was a leaking pool of arousal between your legs, hot and desperate under the touch of his fingers. Thumb circling your clit, he slipped a finger inside you, groaning when he felt your wet heat latch onto it. You bucked your hips into his hand as he slipped it in and out, his mouth on yours swallowing your sweet whimpers. Soon, he tried a second finger. Your flesh easily accommodated it, and you tightened your grip on his hair with a wanton mewl.
"Now?" he managed to untangle from your kiss enough to ask.
"Y-yes," you nodded. "Yes, please."
He would have thrown himself to the crocodiles if you asked him to in that needy voice.
Luckily for the both of you, he didn't have to fumble around too long for the condom you'd left somewhere in the sheets. It had been so long, he couldn't remember the last time he'd put one on, but he thankfully managed to do it without much of a fuss despite the anticipation wrecking him.
As soon as the condom was on, your hand was around his cock, stroking gently as his body covered yours once again. Unable to tear his eyes away from your lust-filled gaze, he let you guide him where you needed him. Both of you gasped, his curly locks brushing your forehead as you teased his tip up and down your folds. It slid easily along your wetness once, twice, and finally, you let it rest at your entrance.
"Tell me if it's… uncomfortable…" Steven's voice broke off as he pushed in the first inch, your heat around his head making a brand new mess out of his already messy thoughts. You let go of his cock to cup his cheek.
"I'm quite alright. Better than alright," you murmured, brow pinched as he inched in further. "But you're very… sweet to ask… oh," you whined, taking a peek where he was disappearing inside you, "Steven?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm really glad you're my neighbour," you said breathlessly, managing a small smile even through the fullness of him inside you almost to the hilt.
"Oh, I'm over the moon that you are mine."
He meant his neighbour, and any other time he would have hastily clarified that, but nothing would have been sillier when he was pulling back and pushing in again, and again, slowly building to a gentle rhythm.
"Oh, God." He breathed out your name against your neck, making you shiver. At least now he knew for certain this wasn't a dream, because his mind never could have conjured something as good as your flesh swallowing his length over and over in its tight heaven, your whimpers of pleasure in his ear, your nails digging into his skin in a plea for more.
"Steven," you whimpered right back, and his name had never sounded as sweet as it did coming from your lips, "Feels so good."
"Yeah?" He asked hopefully, raising his head so he could see your face. "Am I…?"
"You're doing so well," you moaned. "Just… You can... Harder."
You didn't have to tell him twice. Your praise already had his cock throbbing inside you in even sweeter torment, demanding relief. He quickened his pace.
"This good?" he checked hoarsely when your moans grew in pitch, spilling from your lips one after the other as the sound of his rapid thrusts filled his flat.
"Fuck, Steven! Don't stop!" you cried out, and he was sure there would be more-than-welcome red lines along his back the next day.
It was all too much. You looked too beautiful like this, you sounded too sweet moaning for him, you felt too wonderful surrounding him. As much as he wanted to make it last-
"I can't… I think I'm about to… Are you?" he asked, hoping against hope the answer was 'yes'. To his great relief, you nodded.
"Touch me. I'm almost there, just touch me."
It took his pleasure-addled brain a moment to comprehend what you were saying. He reached between you and drew tight circles with his fingers around your aching clit, giving you the last push you needed.
"Yes! Please, I'm-"
You fell apart crying out his name, clinging to him for dear life and head thrown back onto his pillows. His last coherent thought was that he'd never be able to lie on them again without that image in his head. And then he tumbled into the abyss with you, spilling inside the condom as your walls tightened around his cock to milk every last drop he had to give.
He wasn't sure what he'd moaned, though it was probably your name. It was cut short anyway when you captured his lips, tangling your tongue with his as you chased your breath and he rode out his orgasm.
He let himself get pleasantly lost in your taste, long after the high of sex turned into a nice afterglow. Eventually, he gingerly pulled out and rolled onto his back, tossing the condom to the side to be dealt with later.
For a moment, he remained staring at the ceiling as he gathered some semblance of coherence. His body ached all over, just like it did every morning. But for the first time, he was exhausted in a good way, not in a got-hit-by-a-bus kind of way. He could definitely get used to being tired if it always felt like this. If you were always there, as wonderfully tired as him.
When he turned his head, he found you already looking at him, a languid smile on your face. After everything you'd shared, the couple of inches between you were too far. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you gladly cuddled into him, head resting on his chest.
"You're amazing, you know that?" you murmured, and left a light kiss over his heart. Steven's fingers grazed over your shoulder in random shapes.
"Been hearing the opposite," he said, the last person he wanted to be thinking about flashing unbidden through his mind. It was easy not to linger on the thought with you in his arms, though. "But I must have done something right to deserve this."
There was a moment of silence. Then came your reply, as stern as you could manage in your tranquil state, "Anyone calls you 'bloody useless' again, I'll kick their bloody arse."
Steven laughed. It shouldn't have come as a surprise by now that you'd been paying attention when he'd told you about the lovely Donna, but the fact you could tell what he was thinking about without him saying it still warmed his heart in a way he wasn't used to.
"I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to kick arse for you," he pointed out. The thought of him overpowering anyone physically or verbally was laughable, but he had a feeling he'd be capable of much more than he ever thought he was when it came to protecting you in any way.
"It's the twenty-first century, Steven," you shrugged. "A woman's got a right to defend her boyfriend just as much as he does."
His hand on your shoulder froze.
"Boyfriend," he tested the word quietly. "I quite like the sound of that."
You raised your head to give him a somewhat sheepish look, "I didn't mean to…"
"Wouldn't have gone all the way if I weren't all in," he was quick to reassure you. "I'd never do that sort of thing."
A soft smile bloomed on your face. "Me neither."
You kissed his lips briefly, then let your head settle back onto his chest. For a while, neither of you said any more. There was only your breath, the beat of your heart - the sound of not being alone, which Steven didn't need to replace with his own voice or a phone app anymore.
Until you covered your mouth to muffle a yawn, then broke it off with a sudden chuckle.
"What is it?" Steven asked.
"I just had a thought. Maybe if I tire you out before bed every night, it'll work better than a circle of sand around your bed to help you sleep. I know it's helping me." You nuzzled into his chest, voice dropping to a sleepy murmur. "It's so nice here with you, I'll drift off any minute now."
And just like that, you broke his little bubble of bliss.
Not that it was your fault. You couldn't have known he didn't sleep because he was afraid to. Same as you couldn't have known he had no choice but to force himself to stay awake for the rest of the night, no matter how badly all he wanted was to sleep and wake up next to you.
He wondered if he would have found the courage to tell you all that, if you weren't already half-asleep.
"Yeah," he said instead. "Yeah, me too."
The lie was acrid in his mouth. Your voice was still as sweet as ever.
"I'll see you in the morning then."
He kissed your hair as a quiet apology.
"Sweet dreams, darling."
He would tell you. In the morning, when you were well-rested. In the morning, when if his truth pushed you away, he would at least have this night to hold onto.
"Can't get any sweeter than this," you whispered into his chest.
A few minutes later, you were sound asleep in Steven's arms.
***
It was torture.
Steven couldn't tell how much time had passed, but it must have been at least an hour since you'd drifted off.
It was hard enough keeping awake on his own most of the time, no matter how long the voice on the app droned on about puzzles and reading, how many times he solved and scrambled the Rubik's cube, or how far he threw himself into the endless books lining his shelves. With nothing to hold in his hands except your blissfully asleep form and nowhere to go but right where he already was, nice and warm under the covers with you, keeping his eyes open was damn near impossible.
Everything in him practically begged to be allowed to rest, to succumb to the sweet promise of slumber next to you. Everything except the part of him that didn't know what he did or where he went when he was asleep, that would rather stick his eyelids open with toothpicks than risk losing control of his body while you were naked and vulnerable in his bed.
But after the third time he caught himself blinking his eyes back open when he hadn't even realized they'd fallen shut, he knew there would be no fighting his body's need for rest if he stayed where he was.
Very, very slowly, he set your head down on the pillow as gently as he could, wincing with every second he prayed he wouldn't disturb you. With a deep pang of regret, he carefully untangled himself from your warmth, then sneaked out of bed just as silently. You must have been sleeping very deeply, because the only sign you'd felt anything was that you drew in a long breath and nuzzled the pillow, subconsciously searching for the warm chest that wasn't there anymore. But your eyes had remained closed, and Steven left you just as you were before.
He checked - the time was 3 a.m. Another few hours to go.
Not wanting to move too much around the flat, he only threw on a pair of fresh underwear before he sat down at his desk and picked up the nearest book for study. And for about two pages, highlighting the names of Egyptian deities almost worked to keep his mind occupied, but the image of you kept dancing behind his heavy eyelids, ghosting between lines of text and peeking from behind illustrations. It was maddening, absurd to know you were sleeping in his bed and he was sitting at his desk, reading about myths he already knew by heart. But there was no other way.
When he realized he'd just read the same sentence five times without comprehending, he set down his reading glasses with a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his head on the bookshelf behind him. He dared a glance towards you, the sight that kept beckoning to him. You were the picture of peace and beauty, chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths under the sheet Steven had thoughtfully draped over you as you dreamed about… whatever it was other people dreamed about. Something as nice as you, he hoped. He'd dream of you, if he could choose. Of nothing but the way he'd held you in his arms hours ago, over and over again.
He closed his eyes just for a moment. Just to better envision your radiant smiles throughout the evening, your skin glowing in the moonlight as you abandoned yourself to pleasure along with him, the way you bit your lip as he miraculously managed to brush that spot inside you just right.
The memories played behind his eyelids on an endless loop, gaining a life of their own. His thoughts and feelings started blurring together, refusing to remain within the grasp of his focus for more than a hazy moment each. But they all amounted to an unmistakable sense of belonging and peace, like he hadn't felt since-
He opened his eyes to morning light.
And an empty bed.
***
Part 2
Masterlist
A/n: *wipes sweat off brow* There you have it, my Moon Knight smut for the week. It's kind of a personal challenge that I post at least one fic per episode, hope my slow ass can keep up. Thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts!😊
