honeybee⠀!

It started on a regular Saturday night, a reply of a night you’d spent with Steve a thousand times over.

You were sat in the corner of the couch, huddled under a thick knitted blanket, your legs stretched the length of the couch, feet resting just an inch from Steve’s slouched body. He had an arm thrown around the back of the couch, body bent at an angle that looked entirely too comfortable, hair messed up and his sweater riding up.

It was normal.

Until it wasn’t.

You don’t remember the conversation that led up to the incident, it’s muffled in your mind's eye now, it’s not important.

What’s important is what happened next.

Steve’s hand wrapping around your ankle, tugging your body closer to his, your laughter uncontrolled and loud, cheeks flushed. Steve is grinning from ear to ear, large hands yanking at your calf now, until your body is inches from his.

Then the moment changes.

Laughter ebbs away.

Silence takes its place.

Steve’s hand is squeezing your leg, it’s warm and familiar, your hands have found their way to his shoulders, gripping his sweater like a lifeline. He’s looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time, gaze dipping to the curve of your lips. Hearts racing, brains fogging up, those inches between you are disappearing at an alarming rate.

But neither of you stop.

Then, he’s kissing you.

His lips are warm and soft, he’s tentative and kind, testing the waters before diving in. You’d never thought about kissing Steve Harrington, but you couldn’t have ever thought it would feel this good.

And suddenly, you're in his lap, kissing him now.

The tentative nature is gone, in its place, you feel yourself wanting. Wanting him closer, wanting his hands wrapped around your body, leaving permanent bruises on your skin in the shape of him.

He’s just as greedy as you feel, hands gripping you tight, refusing to let you go. Your skin setting him alight, like a fuse burning right to his core, legs wrapped around his waist, caging him in a warm embrace.

Everything changes after that.

You and Steve are still best friends, you suppose that will never change, but now things are a little different.

Steve reaches for you. It’s subtle, but it’s there.

He’s touchy by nature, it’s not unusual for Steve to reach for people. His hands would brush yours, fingers barely touching, before he’s dragging his hands away. Sometimes, his hand would land on your shoulder, squeezing, before letting go, as if he hadn’t done it in the first place. He tugs at the ends of your hair, not harsh, not to hurt you, it’s playful.

It feels natural. Normal even.

You find yourself doing it too.

Your hand will find its place on his bicep, squeezing the muscle with soft fingers. You nudge him with your hip, knocking into him with a gentle smile. Your pinky finger nudges his, linking them for a moment, before falling away. It’s small and somewhat meaningless, but it means the world to you.

You guys stand together, nudging each other, poking and prodding, like you’re sharing a secret only you guys know.

And you kind of do.

Because you haven’t really told anyone about…whatever it is you guys are calling this new stage in your relationship.

Was it a relationship, like a real relationship? Could you call Steve your boyfriend? Would you even like to be called Steve Harrington's girlfriend?

You’ve never talked about it.

You’ve barely even passed the kissing stage, there’s been no wandering hands or late night rendezvous, no suspect marks or lingering and burning looks exchanged.

Were you guys stuck, before you’ve even been given the chance to start?

How did people go from being friends, to being something more. You need to talk about it, before your brain explodes from all your unanswered questions.

Tonight might be the perfect time.

It’s you and Steve tonight.

He’d asked you over for dinner, not take-out or shitty microwave meals like you might have done before. No, Steve was making you dinner tonight, it felt very date like.

And you had the perfect outfit for a sort of date.

It was a cute little number. The hem was swishy, resting around mid thigh, swaying with every move. The neckline was square, exposing just enough skin to be inviting but not showy. And you paired it with your best bra, squishing them together, giving just the right amount of cleavage.

When Steve opened the front door, his jaw was slack, eyes wide, knuckles turning white as he gripped the door for dear life.

“Hey” Your voice is soft, so unlike yourself, nervous.

“H-Hey” Steve is stuttering, his composure is lost.

His eyes are roaming.

Taking you in like he’s never seen you before, and he kind of is, in a way. He’s seeing the date version of you, he’s so used to the casual laid back everyday version of you.

That version of you is already pretty.

But this version of you.

It takes Steve’s breath away.

“Are we gonna eat dinner out here?” You asked, rocking back on your heels. “Or, are you gonna invite me in”

Steve splutters, cheeks flushed.

He backed out of the doorway, motioning you in with a large wave of his arm. It's theatrical and big, but it’s cute.

You stifle a laugh, but there’s a smile on your lips.

Steve’s quick.

He closes the door, you can hear him take a sharp breath, before he’s racing up behind you, he takes a hold of your arm. His hands are gentle, wrapping around your arm, looping it through his own.

You falter for a moment.

It was unexpected.

But a move you understand to be Steve Harrington impenetrable charm.

You bite your lip, eyes shifting up to his face, taking in his goofy grin. It warms your heart.

“You look…” Steve trails off, sweeping his eyes over your figure, stalling in places. “I mean, wow, you’re incredible”

Your eyes flutter, feeling warm.

“Thank you”

He seats you at the island, pulling the chair out and everything. He’s a gentleman. You thank him bashfully, taking a seat.

“I’m making spaghetti” Steve makes a wide motion with his hands, pointing out a simmering red sauce and a boiling pot of noodles. “And…homemade garlic bread”

“Wow” You sigh, elbow sitting on the island, chin resting in your open palm. “I didn’t know you were such a wiz in the kitchen”

Steve’s flushing again.

“You give me too much credit” He waves the compliment off. “I’m still waiting for something to go wrong, like burning the water or something”

You giggle softly, Steve’s shoulders relax.

“If I knew you could cook, I might have kissed you sooner” You joked.

The joke falls a little flat, not enough to ruin the moment, but enough to point out the obvious change in your relationship.

It was awkward, stilted.

You feel silly for even bringing it up.

But you can’t stop yourself.

“This is weird, right?” You ask, before you can convince yourself not to. “It’s not just me, is it?”

Steve pauses, takes in your soft features, his shoulders sag a little.

“It’s not weird, just different, I think” Steve scratches at the back of his head.

“Different” You echo, nod your head, the word tastes sour, you don’t like it. “Good different or bad different?”

“Good, definitely good” Steve nods a single time, affirming.

You lean back in your seat, chin lifting from your hand, palms resting against the cool tiles of the island.

“I don’t want things to be this…” You try to find the right words. “Different like this, it’s like we don’t even know each other”

Steve sighs, crossing his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“Do you want to…not do this, with me, with us?” Steve asks, it’s quiet and unsure, like he didn’t want to ask it.

You pause.

You take a moment to look at Steve, like really, seriously look at him. You look past the best friend tinted glasses and see him as the man he’s become.

He still looks like Steve.

But he carries something you’ve never really seen before, he cares about you. You know that, you’ve always known that. He’s looking at you now, like he wants to make you the center of his universe, but he doesn’t quite know how to make the jump.

“I want this” You push yourself off the chair, taking slow steps around the island, towards Steve. “I just-- I don’t know how to do this”

Steve’s posture relaxes, arms uncrossing, laying at his sides.

“I don’t know what I’m doing either” Steve shakes his head, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington doesn’t know how to date a girl” You joke, and Steve rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling now.

You feel lighter.

“No, I don’t know how to date you, specifically,” Steve points out.

You stand before Steve now, neither of you reach out to touch each other.

“I don’t know how to date you either” You admit, it feels nice to say it out loud.

“But I want to” You say, before Steve can say anything. “I think we just need more practice, and we need to talk more”

You brush your hand against Steve’s, fingers barely grazing, it still sends a fizzle of warmth up your spine.

Steve meets you half way, fingers loosely sliding through the gaps of your fingers, slotting your hands together.

“I wanna date you” Steve’s voice is soft. “We made pretty good friends, I think we’d make a pretty good couple too”

You feel shy under Steve’s gaze.

“Is that what we’re calling it?” You ask, peering at Steve through your lashes. “Cause I don’t want to just be your best friend anymore”

You squeeze Steve’s hand.

“I don’t want you like a best friend” Steve’s reply is slow, but meaningful. “I want you, as my girlfriend”

Your breath catches.

“I want you…as my boyfriend”

Steve uses his other hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over the smooth skin of your cheek. You feel like a swarm of butterflies are whipping around in your stomach, heart beating so quickly, you think it might jump right out of your chest.

You lean into his palm.

“We sound like teenagers” You smile, lips brushing against Steve’s palm.

You can see Steve shudder.

“We’re not that old yet”

You roll your eyes.

“You know what I mean”

You place your free hand over Steve’s, running your fingers over the sharp ridges of his knuckles.

Steve doesn’t respond to your statement, instead, he does you one better.

He kisses you.

There’s not an ounce of tentativeness in this kiss, it’s warm and sure. Steve is confident, and you feel assured that this kiss is the first of many in your relationship.

You can’t believe that Steve is your boyfriend, or that you get to stand in his kitchen, kissing him, surrounded by the homemade meal he’s made you.

“You know” You murmur against his lips. “I only bought this dress so you could take it off”

Steve splutters.

“Oh my god” Steve’s cheeks are a flaming red, eyes a little glazed over.

You smile, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

“You can’t say stuff like that” Steve is shaking his head, but he doesn’t look all that annoyed at your words, in fact, he looks like he really liked them.

“Sorry” You shrug, not sorry at all.

“We need to eat, before I do something I probably won’t regret, and waste all my hard work” Steve says, placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I still can’t believe you made me dinner” You say, stepping back from Steve.

“I’m a man of many talents” Steve is boasting now, but he deserves it. “Some talents, you might get to see later”

Steve reaches behind you, and pinches your backside.

You squeak, jumping a little, it’s unexpected and yet makes total sense.

“Steve!” You exclaim.

Steve chuckles.

“Payback you the dress comment you made” Steve teases, raising a brow at you. “Plus, I just wanted to touch your butt”

You cannot believe you went into this night so nervous about bringing up your relationship with Steve. You guys are falling back into old habits, but with a fun new twist, which apparently included Steve touching your butt.

You are really glad Steve is your best friend.