the noise of the bar is an extremely chaotic blur of neon flashing lights, clinking glasses, and the loud, rambling cadence of eddie’s voice. he’s mid-story, gesturing wildly with slurred words and a drink in his hand, while nancy, robin, and jonathan laugh along in various stages of intoxication.

you’re barely registering a word of it. your entire world is centered on the heavy, warm weight of your boyfriend, steve harrington pressing into your back.

he’s slumped in the high chair, his thick thighs framing your hips, anchoring you close to him like the smallest amount of space was painful. you can feel the heat radiating through his jeans and his thin t-shirt, a steady, grounding presence. one of his large hands is splayed flat across your stomach, his palm warm and possessive, while the other loosely holds a tinted glass beer bottle against the top of his thigh.

steve is verg far gone. he isn't even pretending to listen to eddie anymore. instead, he’s tucked his chin firmly onto your shoulder, his breath hot and smelling of alcohol against your skin. every few seconds, he presses a slow, lingering kiss to the curve of your neck or the slope of your shoulder, humming a low, vibrating tune that syncs with the music pumping through the speakers.

he’s in his own little world, and in that world, you are the only thing that exists.

the hand on your tummy is pulling you a little closer while he laid a sweet kiss just below the shell of your ear, inhaling a deep breath. “y’smell so good, honey. just wanna eat you.”

you couldn’t help but laugh and squeeze just above his knee. “quit it, stevie. it tickles,” you mumbled, though there was no real bite to your words. you just curled a little deeper into him and let yourself relax against the weight of him.

as the clock hits 2 am, the group finally starts to wind down, the conversation drifting into incoherent mumbles. you shift place your drink on the wood in front of you, turning around in the small space between his legs to face him, your hands firmly planted on his thighs. you can’t help the soft, fond smile that tugs at your lips; he looks absolutely dopey, his eyes glazed and heavy-lidded, his lips parted slightly.

"hi baby," he murmurs through a smile, his voice a thick, honeyed slur. he doesn't wait for a response before leaning forward, capturing your lips in a long, clumsy, sweet kiss that tastes like beer and pure devotion.

you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray lock of messy brown hair off his forehead. "you’re a mess, baby," you whisper, glancing at his drink. "do you want some water?"

he shakes his head vigorously, like a stubborn child, a goofy grin spreading across his face. "nope," he breathes, his voice dropping an octave. "just need you."

with a clumsy movement, he sets his beer on the table behind you, freeing both arms to wrap around your waist. he pulls you flush against him, his hands meeting at the small of your back, squeezing you tight as if he’s afraid you’ll float away if he lets go. you wrap your arms under his waist and bury your face in his firm chest, laughing softly, but the laugh catches in your throat when you feel his palms slide downward.

his hands migrate lower, fingers grazing the swell of your cheeks, pressing you firmly into the space between his legs. you give his back a light, warning poke, trying to keep your voice stern despite the flush creeping up your neck.

"watch those hands, harrington," you command.

steve doesn't pull away. instead, he lets out a low, rumbling chuckle against your skin, tilting his head to pepper a trail of wet, sloppy kisses across your jawline and cheek.

"sorry, baby," he mumbles against your skin with a light chuckle, though there isn't a hint of sincerity in his tone. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his grip tightening, his touch becoming bolder as he lets out a needy little sigh. "m’sorry... but you're jus’ so soft."

you giggle, pulling back just far enough to point a warning finger at him. your try to look stern, but it’s impossible when he’s looking up at you with those wide, adoring, glazed-over eyes. he looks so pretty when he's like this— completely undone and utterly devoted to you.

steve doesn't seem deterred by the warning. instead, he reaches out and captures your small hand in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips and peppering them with slow, loving kisses. then, with a sudden burst of clumsy energy, he hooks one arm around your waist and the other over your shoulders, hauling you back into his space. he attacks your face with big, wet, sloppy kisses, landing them on your cheeks, your forehead, and the tip of your nose.

"steve! oh my god! stop it!" you squeal, becoming a giggly mess as you push against his chest. your protests are useless. he’s like a giant, affectionate teddy bear.

"’m so lucky. y’know that?... i’ve got the prettiest… prettiest girl in the whole world," he mumbles against your skin, his voice thick and needy. his hands aren't staying still, squeezing your waist and kneading your hips, his touch possessive and warm. he just wants to be touching you, to feel every inch of you against him without a single care for who’s watching.

gently tugging his wrists off your body, you finally manage to break the spell. "alright, lover boy, time to move."

you start cleaning up the table, gathering the stray napkins and glasses, and begin ushering the rest of the group toward the exit.

when you finally return to steve, he’s still sitting there, looking sleepy and blissful, a small, dopey smile plastered on his face. you grab his hand and help him push himself off the high chair, keeping one arm firmly around his waist to keep him from tipping over. once he's steady, you guide his arm over eddie’s shoulders. the two of them are in a similar state of intoxication, leaning on each other and laughing about something only they understand.

after getting robin, vickie, nancy, and jonathan into the first taxi— thankfully jonathan is sober enough to make sure they get home safe— you guide eddie and steve into the second one. you slide in right beside steve, and he immediately claims you.

his heavy hand rests firmly on your upper thigh, squeezing gently, while his head drops onto your shoulder with a contented sigh. as eddie spends the ride chatting up the taxi driver with erratic enthusiasm, steve just breathes your sweet perfume in, drifting in and out of a light sleep.

and by the time you reach your shared apartment, the walk up the stairs is a slow process. you’re essentially a human crutch for both of the boys, carefully navigating them upward. you manage to get eddie safely plopped onto the couch— where he promptly falls asleep mid-sentence— and then you turn your attention to steve.

the moment you lead him toward the bathroom, steve’s clinginess hits an all time peak. he stumbles over his own feet a few times, leaning heavily into you, but he doesn't stop trying to touch you. he’s peppering kisses all over your neck and jaw, his lips warm and clumsy.

"mmm... home. our home," he mumbles, his voice a low vibrate against your skin. he trips slightly over the rug, pulling you down with him for a second, laughing softly into your shoulder as he clings to you, refusing to let go for even a second as you manage to steer him into the bathroom, practically dragging him by the hand.

to make things easier, you have him sit on the closed toilet lid so he doesn't tip over while he brushes his teeth. you grab the blue toothbrush, wet it, and add a dollop of the green paste before handing it to him.

he grabs it from your hands and stops, one hand hooking around your thigh to keep you close. “baby, ‘m hungry.”

“you’re hungry?” you repeated, stepping a little closer to him and gently smoothing his hair back again. “okay. what do you want to eat?”

he leaned into your touch, allowing his eyes to fall shut for a few moments. the light scraping of your nails against his scalp felt incredible. soft little sounds bubbled in his throat as he hummed in thought. “hmm.”

your hand moved to hold his chin, tipping it up so he had to look at you. “stevie, you gotta tell me what you want to eat so i can make something for you.”

with a sleepy little sigh, he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the warmth of your tummy, his arm wrapping around your thigh to pull you a little closer. “jus’ wanna be close to you, honey.”

you smiled and stepped back, bringing the toothbrush in his hand up to his mouth. “you have to brush your teeth first, ‘kay? then i’m all yours.”

steve let out a little grumble of disappointment before letting following the orders. while he's clumsily scrubbing away, you slip out for a moment to grab a couple of sets of comfortable clothes for both of you.

the second you step back into the bathroom, steve is up and on you. he doesn't even wait for you to get to the sink— he reaches out and pulls you back against him, his arms locking around your waist. as you start brushing your own teeth, you feel it— the unmistakable, hard press of him against your backside.

you shake your head, a small smile on your face despite yourself. “mm-mm,” you hummed in disapproval through the soapy mess, gently pushing at his lower stomach to create a little space while you finish up.

"change. now," you demand after swishing the mouthwash around, handing him his clothes.

steve pouts, his lower lip sticking out in a way that is far too cute for a grown man. "noo," he whines, his voice thick and groggy. "don’t wanna. just wanna be close to you."

"okay, well you can be close to me after you’re all changed, baby. i promise," you soothe, giving him a little pat on the cheek.

he lets out a little groan. the cutest thing you’ve literally ever heard. “y’said that about brushing my teeth.”

you lean up to press a chaste kiss to his pouty, spit-slicked lips. “yeah but i really mean it this time. i even promised.”

defeated but still needy, he starts stripping right there in front of you. it’s a struggle to say the least. he’s so uncoordinated that when his jeans get stuck around his ankles, he nearly face-plants into the bathmat.

you couldn’t help but burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the small room. as you pull your own shirt off, leaving you in just your sleep shorts and a lacy bra, your laughter only grows.

steve stops struggling with his clothes and looks up at you, a mischievous, drunken glint in his eyes. "oh yeah? that’s funny to you, baby?"

before you can react, he shuffles forward on his knees, grabbing the bare skin of your waist and pulling you into him. he begins peppering kisses all over your stomach and ribs, giggling into your skin as you squirm. you’re still smiling and laughing, shoving at his head and trying to slide your oversized sleep shirt on, encouraging him to hurry up and get dressed.

once you finally get him into his clothes, you lead him to the bedroom. the moment he hits the mattress, he doesn't just lie there— he reaches up and hooks his arms around you, pulling you down until you're straddling him.

your settle onto the tops of his thighs, your hands resting on his warm stomach, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing. steve’s hands immediately find your hips where hem of your big shirt sits, his fingers playing with the fabric, tugging it slightly as he gazes up at you with pure, unfiltered adoration.

"you’re so pretty, honey," he whispers, his voice sounding small and sincere. "i jus’ love you so much... mmm. i miss you."

you blink, looking down at him with a fond expression. "stevie, baby... i’m right here."

he lets out a soft, sleepy laugh, leaning his head back against the pillow. he suddenly launches into a joke—something completely nonsensical and stupid about eddie’s rings or the way robin almost puked after a particularly vile shot at the bar—and it’s so unexpected and absurd that you both lose it.

you collapse against his chest, laughing so hard that your stomachs begin to ache, the two of you shaking with giggles in the quiet of your shared room.

as the laughter dies down, the atmosphere in the room shifts, turning from playful to thick with a sudden, heavy tension.

steve’s hands slide from the hem of your shirt down to the exposed skin of your hips, his grip tightening as he pulls you down firmly against him. the friction is immediate and intense, and you have to bite your lip hard to suppress a moan, fighting to keep up the stern act you've maintained all night.

you push yourself up slightly, your palms resting against his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heart beneath the fabric. "not tonight, steve," you tell him softly, your voice wavering just a little. "you’re way too drunk."

he begins to whine immediately, a low, needy sound that vibrates in his chest. "baby, pleaseeee," he groans, his eyes half-closed and pleading. "need you so bad. ‘m so hard for you ‘nd i jus’... jus’ need to feel you."

you lean down, pressing a sweet, lingering kiss to the tip of his nose. "no," you whisper, though it’s more of a plea than a command.

steve isn't having it. with a sudden, clumsy surge of strength, he rolls you both over in one fluid motion. now he’s lying directly on top of you, his heavy weight a comforting pressure that pins you to the mattress. he loops his arms underneath you, locking you against him so there isn't a single inch of space between your bodies. his hips are slotted perfectly into yours, and his legs tangle with yours, weaving together like vines.

he pressed his lips to yours almost immediately—sleepy, a little clumsy, and desperately needy. every kiss is an admission of how much he craves you, his lips searching yours with a hunger that makes your head spin. by the time you manage to pull away after a few minutes, you're completely breathless, your chest heaving.

"steve," you pant, your voice airy. "it’s time... it's time to go to sleep."

"i like this," he mumbles, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble against your lips. “wanna stay like this forever.”

"i know, baby," you soothe, stroking the back of his neck. "but it's bedtime."

he doesn't move, instead leaning in for another kiss. "one more," he whispers. "for good luck."

the kiss is deeper this time, more intentional. his tongue slides against yours, tasting of mint, sleep, and lingering desire, and he sucks on your tongue with a soft, needy sound that sends a shiver straight down your spine.

finally, as the exhaustion of the night begins to truly win, he lets out a long, contented sigh. he buries his face deep into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he begins to drift off.