local molecular biologist and his alien bestie get saved from spinning out into deep space by a large starship of people called the COI. he's told if he wants to see his eridian friend ever again, he's to figure out how This Guy miraculously recovered from drowning in an ocean of human blood.
Getting the very sick and traumatized man to warm up to him, however, is an easier feat than ryland expects.
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We Belong Together, It Finally Appears It’s Only Love
Steve Harrington x KindaQuiet!Fem!Henderson!Reader
I can’t stop listening 🪩🕺^^^ Too bad ticket prices are worth my rent 🙃
Summary: You want more than just friendship with Steve. You start to pull away when you realize that might not be in the stars for the two of you. Steve just wants you to stop running away from him.
6.5k wc.
Warnings & What to Expect: Friends to lovers trope, ballet teacher reader (pic for aesthetic, as buns are usually a must!), very slight angst, very slight hurt/ comfort, ends with lots of fluff, yearning Steve and reader, Steve’s a whiner, set in season 4 bc Steve just looks TOO cute in that Family Video vest of his, pretend reader and Dustin grew up in Hawkins instead of moving there later in life!
Masterlist If Interested!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Is that Steve “the hair” Harrington?”
Your heart rate ticks up at hearing the achingly familiar name. The teenager next to you had just spoken the words to her friend as you sat in the middle of the ballet studio floor, stretching your muscles.
You were leading an intermediate class filled with teenage girls, filling in for Miss Sharon, the dance company’s owner. You were already frustrated with the gaggle of them, as you typically taught the littles; only four and five years old.
You were used to unwrapping snacks during their breaks, tying up the ribbons on their slippers, and constant hugs from those absolute sweethearts.
You were totally out of your element with the older girls. Miss Sharon had begged you to cover for her. She was sick as could be, and didn’t want the girls missing class; as many were trying to train for scholarships one day.
You finally relented, and were regretting your decision the minute you walked in.
It was clear that the girls didn’t respect you very much. You were only a year or two older than most of them after all, not having been too long since you were in high school yourself.
You had finally gotten them to comply and start their stretches instead of gossiping when suddenly a burst of giggles broke out amongst the dancers in the room upon hearing Steve’s name.
You keep your head down, eyes focused on your pointe slippers, trying to avoid being tempted into looking out the studio window to see if Steve really was nearby.
He was the last person you wanted to see, considering you’d been avoiding him like the plague for the past few weeks.
“Oh my God, it totally is!” Another girl laughed.
“What do you think he’s doing hanging out around here?” Someone else chimed in.
“The more important question is why is he so dreamy?” The girl who had noticed him in the first place shares, causing another round of tittering to flood the room.
“Um ew, don’t you know that he works at Family Video? He’s probably hoping to sneak a peak at one of us on his break or something. He’s a total loser now ladies, don’t get so excited,” Snarked one of the girls.
You grit your teeth at that. You seethed when people made fun of Steve for his job. You may be on a mission to remove Steve Harrington from your life, but you still couldn’t stand to hear his name being slandered like that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It all started when you saw him blatantly flirting with a girl at Family Video, and it was working.
You had walked in after ballet class one day, as the studio was down the street and Steve was your ride home; his shifts always aligned perfectly with your dance schedule.
When you pushed those front doors open and saw him leaning against a shelf, head tilted towards the girl to hear her better, standing just a little closer than needed, you swear it felt like something in you died a bit.
He had on that charming smile of his and the cadence of his voice made it clear he was interested. The girl clearly was too, as she smirked back at him, twirling a piece of her hair around her finger, other hand grazing the bicep on his arm.
You froze in place, heart splintering, breath stopping. Maybe that was an overreaction because Steve Harrington wasn’t yours.
He wasn’t yours to love. He wasn’t yours to be upset over him showing someone else affection. So why did it feel like you were about to throw up at the sight of the two of them together?
You knew instantly that it meant you hadn’t gotten over your hopeless crush on him. Who were you kidding? You had liked the boy since second grade when Tammy Thompson tripped you and you had face planted into the wood chips at recess.
Steve had come to your rescue that day, like a little Prince Charming in the making. He had given you that boyish grin, helped you stand up, walked you to the nurse, then promptly asked if you’d be his best friend.
Your friendship lasted the rest of elementary school, but towards the end of middle school, friendship groups were changing and cliques were forming.
You had always been quiet and soft spoken, finding it harder to make friends. Meanwhile Steve was like the damn sun, outgoing and vibrant. People gravitated towards him, always wanting his attention, and suddenly, you weren’t spending as much time with him anymore.
By the time you got to high school, he was “king Steve” and you knew you’d lost your best friend for good. He wouldn’t even look at you anymore in the hallways of school. Always hanging around with those assholes he called friends.
Then when he started dating Nancy Wheeler, you watched from afar as a bit of his old self started to leak through the cracks in the armor he had made. When you saw how happy she made him, you decided then that it was time to get over your silly infatuation with him.
You had always been completely smitten by him, even after all the time that had passed. You had thought at one point that maybe he felt the same, but it was all childish dreams.
You tried your best to move on. You even tried dating a bit, something out of your comfort zone, but that all went to shit when Billy Hargrove had asked you out just to get in your pants.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You had been sitting in Billy’s blue Camaro after a night out for dinner at the local diner and a movie screening at the Hawk. He was heavily putting on the charm, and you were stupidly falling for it.
You had just started to think that maybe he wasn’t the complete dick he’d shown himself to be at school, when his hand slipped up your exposed thigh from the skirt you were wearing.
You immediately smacked his hand away before it could get very far and glared at him.
“What the hell, Hargrove?” You snapped, upset that he’d try to touch you like that without permission.
“Oh come on princess, don’t be such a priss. I thought you knew what this was?” Billy had scoffed back at you.
When you made it clear to him that you would not be another notch in his belt, he had kicked you out of his car. He left you stranded in downtown Hawkins with no one to get you.
Your mother was out of town for the weekend, your brother still in middle school not capable of driving, and Robin didn’t have her license yet. Something about being too poor, but you’ve seen her drive illegally and boy, was it scary.
You huffed in defeat and started the long trip home in the dark. It was eerie. Hawkins may give off boring small town vibes in the daylight, but at night it was all sorts of creepy. Even more so after the disappearance and resurrection of Will Byers.
You had picked up the pace, sufficiently freaking yourself out at the thought. You had made it nearly halfway home when a car flew by you. Imagine your surprise when that said car suddenly slammed on its breaks, paused in the middle of the road, then started reversing back towards you.
“Oh, God,” You thought out loud, hoping this wasn’t the start of some horror film for you.
Then you noticed the car logo, realized it was a Beamer. You knew from that color that it was Steve’s car, which is why it absolutely shocked the hell out of you when the passenger window rolled down and there was your little brother. Dustin started yelling at you to get in the car with them, that they were on a mission to find a monster and needed your help.
“What is going on, Dusty?” Your brows were hitched up, brain overwhelmed with the amount of information Dustin was throwing at you as you slid into the backseat.
Steve had met your eyes through the review mirror and you quickly pulled yours away from his, focusing back on your brother’s insistence that lives were at stake.
That’s how you found yourself saving the world with your little brother and Steve Harrington. You didn’t talk to Steve, not having much to say to him after the fall of your friendship all those years ago. But you watched, as an odd bond was starting to form between him and your brother. In fact, it was kind of endearing to watch them together.
It was when Steve had just had his shit rocked by Billy, that you finally broke your silent treatment. After the initial shock of seeing Max stick Billy with a needle to sedate him, you turned your attention back to Steve.
He was knocked out on the floor, breath leaving his lips in a horrible raspy sound. The sight of him had you barking orders at the kids to get you a wet wash cloth, ice packs and the first aid kit.
When you find yourself driving Billy’s stupid Camaro to the tunnels, Steve becomes coherent again, albeit really slowly.
“It’s okay buddy, you put up a good fight. He kicked your ass, but you put up a good fight,” Dustin grins widely at Steve. Steve groans as he rights himself up and looks around at you and the kids crammed into the car.
Before he has time to process where you’re even going he coughs out, “Well, this is extremely embarrassing,” referring to getting his ass handed to him by Billy.
“It’s not,” You quip. Steve startles in surprise at the fact that you’re talking to him.
“You and Max saved all our asses back there, Harrington. Plus you got some good throws in. Billy played dirty hitting you with that plate,” You continue on from the front seat, eyes focused on the road, cheeks heating up a bit as you feel him staring at you.
You’re not sure what provoked you to assure Steve that he shouldn’t be embarrassed. It came naturally. Maybe all those years of friendship tucked away inside you, resurfacing at the sight of him nearly being beaten to death.
Something shifted that night. Dustin and Steve’s bond only grew stronger over the next year, and while you were slowly coming around to being cordial, you still kept some distance.
Steve may have been knocked down quite a few pegs this past year; Nancy breaking up with him, Billy taking his place at Hawkins High, and he was getting lower on the totem poll of popularity each time he hung out with Dustin, though Steve didn’t seem to care.
But you sure as shit weren’t going to try to make friends with him again when losing him was your first heartbreak.
You may have been still hung up on him, but you knew better than to try to get your hopes up.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Things shifted again when Robin stormed into your house one evening in the summer of ‘85.
You squeal in shock when she bangs your room door open, making you jump from your spot on the floor. You had been listening to classical music through the mixtape you had created, trying your best to get the rhythm and tempo down before starting a new routine with your littles.
“Did you know Steve Harrington is a complete and total dingus?” She yells loudly, flailing her hands.
“Robs, what are you talking about?” You turn to look at her fully, and realize she’s in this ridiculous sailor’s outfit.
“And what the hell are you wearing? It’s a little early for Halloween,” You tease her lightly, taking in the interesting look.
“Yeah, yeah laugh it up. You’re looking at the new ice cream slinger at the one and only Starcourt Mall,” She grins, jumping on top of your bed, landing flat on her back.
She goes on to tell you that Steve's her new coworker, “I can’t believe you were best friends with that insufferable man!”
“I mean, it was a long time ago Robin,” You answer softly, eyes casting down at the topic. Robin looks at you sympathetically, even though you can’t see her face. You’ve only been friends with her for a few years now, but she knew you well. She could tell it was a sore spot for you.
She changed the topic quickly, trying to take your mind off it.
“How are the munchkins?” Robin asks you, referring to the ballet classes you teach five times a week.
You had lived and breathed dance as a kid, and when you graduated high school, you had no plans ahead of you. This was thanks to an injury you had sustained from pushing yourself too hard trying to get into college for dance. Your doctor had told you that you’d be able to dance again, but would probably never be able to dance professionally the way you wanted to.
When Miss Sharon, once your own ballet teacher, saw you sitting and sulking on a bench outside of her studio one day, she invited you in. Asked about what was wrong, and you had cried as she held you, knowing the pain of having your dreams ripped away from you.
Miss Sharon had said you’d be welcomed to a job with her, if you could handle the littles as not many had the patience or will to work with them.
You had eagerly accepted the job, needing the money, and needing something to do if you weren’t going to college. You threw everything you had into working, wanting to prove that you were still useful.
Which is why you never got sucked into the whole evil Russians problem like Dustin, Steve, and Robin had. You were teaching late that day, and once the so called mall fire was over, the three of them showed up to your house the next morning. You took one look at Steve’s broken face and knew if you let him inside that your resolve would fade.
And it had. God, it faded so quickly. You were like putty in Steve’s hands, quick to accept his heart broken pleas about being friends again. About how he was terribly sorry for the past hurt he had caused in your life. That he missed you, and swore he wouldn’t let you down again.
Over the next year, you easily slipped back into the friendship you once had with him. You knew that’s all it was; friendship. But fuck, if you didn’t want more
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Which is why when you saw Steve successfully talking to a girl for the first time in a while, you realized that something real could happen between them; and you didn’t want to stick around and let your heart get stomped on by watching Steve fall in love.
So you simply just stopped being around. You called him and told him your dance class times had been changed, so he no longer needed to drive you there or back.
He would call you excessively, and you told him you were sick. You told him you were busy. You told him you were tired. You told him every damn excuse you could think of to get him off your back, but it wasn’t working.
You stopped picking up the phone entirely. But Steve was nothing if not persistent, and he didn’t give up easily.
He knew something was wrong. He knew it; knew that you were dodging him. He wasn’t sure what he had done, and he had turned into a whiney, mopey, mess without you.
“I just don’t understand, Robin,” He sighed, hand running through his hair as he leaned on the front counter of the video store.
“I mean we were great! Things were good between us. I even thought for a minute there that I might have a ch-,” he cuts himself off, shakes his head, remembers who he’s talking to; your best friend who was also a total blabber mouth.
“You wanna finish that sentence pretty boy?” Robin teases, eyebrows raised already knowing what he was most likely about to say.
Steve rolls his eyes at her. He slumps down into one of the front desk chairs and groans loudly.
“Ugh, jeez you’re annoying when you're pouty. Why don’t you just ask her what’s wrong like a normal human being?” Robin raises her eyebrows at the man, whose arms are now folded in front of him, with a permanent frown on his lips.
“Because I’ve tried calling her like a million times Robin, and now she just won’t answer me anymore,” Steve bites back, but Robin can hear the hurt that’s nestled in between his words.
“I mean you know how she is Steve, I think better than any of us. She always gets quiet when she’s upset about something,” Robin shrugs her shoulders, not really sure how to give love advice to him as her own love life was non-existent since she was too afraid to try with Vickie.
“I know, I know she’s going quiet on me. It’s miserable. I’m being iced out, and I don’t know what I did. I would fix it if she let me, if she just gave me the chance,” Steve softly exhales, frustration leaving his body and a dull ache is left behind. It settles in his ribs.
He hates that you won’t talk to him, but hates it more that you feel like you have to pull away. He desperately wishes you’d stop running away from him.
“Why don’t you just buy her flowers or some cliche crap like that?” Dustin pops out from behind one of the shelves, successfully scaring the crap out of Steve and Robin.
“What the hell, Henderson?!” Steve yelps out.
“You’re such a sneaky little shit, you know that?” Robin gasps, hand flying to her chest at the sudden sight of the kid.
Dustin just grins in response at both of them, sliding up to the counter, elbow knocking over one of the stacks of tapes they’d just finished organizing, causing the two of them to huff out a breath of annoyance.
“So? Flowers?” Dustin eggs Steve on.
“Why would I get her flowers? It’s not like that between us,” Steve scoffs unconvincingly.
“Steve, I’m missing collarbones, not eyes. I know you’re into my sister and you did something to upset her and now you need to go make it right. Cut the bullshit about her being just a friend and figure it out already,” Dustin looks at Steve pointedly.
Steve’s mouth drops open, a blush creeping up the tips of his ears from his neck.
“Is it that obvious?” Steve whispers out, eyes flicking back and forth between Dustin and Robin’s. Dustin’s eyes narrow in disbelief, and Robin gives Steve a tight smile.
“Kind of,” Robin tells him gently, but then continues, "Except when you’re flirting with random girls in here, it’s pretty obvious once you get around her.”
“Oh shit,” Steve breathes out, eyes widening in horror at the realization.
What Robin says jogs his memory of a few weeks ago when that girl had come into the store. Was it Bethany or Betty? Brittany, maybe? He’s not sure what the hell her name was, but she was laying it on thick with him.
Steve isn’t going to lie, he felt flattered by it. Girls hadn’t really given him the time of day in a long time, and Steve had successfully buried his feelings for you way, way down - least he thought he had until you had up and disappeared from his life - so what was the problem with harmless flirting if he never intended it to go anywhere?
But he had heard the front door slam that day, and could have sworn he saw the soft pink wrap of your skirt and tights that he had to force his eyes away from whenever you wore them in his vicinity.
He had shook his head at the time, pulled himself away from the girl, and rushed out the doors, but no one was around. Steve thought maybe he had imagined it. That his brain was just trying to conjure up the image of you because it was you that he wanted to be flirting with, not Becky over there.
It was the same day you had called him, letting him know your dance class times had changed and you didn’t need him anymore for a ride. That was painful to hear. Steve took it as you didn’t need him in general, which was one of his greatest fears.
When he asked Dustin about your work times changing, and Dustin had given him a look like Steve had three heads, Steve knew you had lied to him. He didn’t panic at first, but then you started making excuses to not hang out with him at all, or even with him and Robin.
When he had asked Robin if you were still seeing her, she had looked at him sheepishly. He knew then that it was himself that had done something that made you go quiet on him.
He hadn’t made you go quiet on him like this since he stopped being friends with you in high school, which he still beat himself up over for being such a jerk back then.
When the two of you were just kids, you’d get quiet on him when he would accidentally say something you thought was ridiculous. But when you were kids, he could just smile at you, give his puppy dog eyes, and you’d cave and be back to normal in seconds.
But you weren’t kids anymore, and Steve didn’t know how to fix it this time.
“Earth to Steve?” Dustin claps his hands together in front of Steve’s face, trying to break him out of whatever thought he was lost in at the moment. Steve swats Dustin’s hands away and puts his head in his hands.
“No, no, no, nooooo,” Steve all but whimpers out, realizing what he’s done.
You saw him that day. You had to have. There’s no other explanation. He must’ve been right about possibly having a chance with you, if you were ignoring him like this after catching him with another girl.
“Should we be concerned he’s talking to himself,” Robin whispers to Dustin as they watch Steve mutter and shake his head, letting out a string of curse words.
“I’m an idiot," Steve suddenly shouts, jumping up from his spot.
“We already knew that,” Dustin chides.
“Flowers, I need flowers,” Steve starts to nod, hands on his hips, starting to form a plan.
“Do you need to know what to ge-” Robin starts, but is quickly cut off by Steve telling her he already knows what to buy.
He remembered Robin asking you one time that if you were on your death bed in the hospital what type of flowers you would want.
“Geez that’s dark, Robs,” You had chuckled at her, but you continued on, “I guess anything colorful. I don’t really have a favorite flower, I think they’re all gorgeous in their own way,” You smiled at the thought, and Steve had felt an affection for you that he hadn’t felt since Nancy.
His eyes had grown wide at the thought. Had he really been thinking about you that way? No, he couldn’t. Not only was your friendship just rekindling, but he was also now best friends with your brother, who was insanely protective over you despite being younger.
It’s why Steve had thrown and locked those feelings away, tossing out the key. But now he knew that was the dumbest mistake of his life.
“Is she home today?” Steve whips his head towards Dustin, which reminds him how much it sucks that he doesn't know where you are.
“She got called into work today. She’s teaching some class she doesn’t normally teach. She should be there for a while,” Dustin shares, watching as Steve nods along, clearly some scheming happening inside his head.
“Thanks man for the advice. I owe you one,” Steve claps his hand on top of Dustin's head, ruffling the curly hair under his cap a bit like he used to when Dustin was younger.
“Alright boys and girls, wish me luck,” Steve drums his hands on the counter, then launches himself up and over it, making a beeline for the doors, not bothering to take his work vest off and hang it up in the back.
He’s in a rush after all, he's got to go get the girl of his dreams.
“You just expect me to man the store alone?” Robin calls after him, but she’s teasing. Mostly.
“I believe in you Robs!” Steve yells back. When he’s gone, Dustin and Robin look at each other again.
“He better not mess this up,” Robin sighs, and Dustin tells her that he doesn’t think Steve will.
Dustin playfully shares that Steve may be a lot of things, but when he’s made a decision about something, he gets the job done.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve is anxiously pacing in front of the ballet studio. He kind of regrets not shrugging out of the Family Video vest, he feels like it's cramping his style, but it’s too late for that. He runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame it a bit after having sprinted to the local florist around the corner from Family Video and then to Miss Sharon’s Studio.
He hadn’t bothered with driving, as the florist was a five minute walk from you, and he needed the extra time to think about what he was going to say, if you’d even give him the time of day. He so desperately wishes that you will.
His other hand is clutching a large bouquet of flowers. He had asked the manager for the best ones they had, the freshest of all kinds and colors.
The worker had looked at Steve curiously, and shared that it was going to cost a pretty penny, but Steve didn’t care. The bouquet was wrapped delicately in a brown kraft paper material, with a periwinkle bow wrapped tight around the base.
He’s not sure how to approach you. He doesn’t want to interrupt your class, but he’s also not sure if he should wait outside the whole time and seem like a creep.
There was a large glass window on the front of the building. Passerbys couldn’t see in, but he knew the people inside could see out. It wasn’t a huge window, but it was big enough that surely if someone was paying attention they would see him standing there on the sidewalk.
Which the girls inside were, but Steve didn’t know that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Steve was all the teens inside the classroom could talk about.
Their practice time was completely forgotten. You knew if this session wasn’t at least a tiny bit productive that Sharon would be disappointed. You squared your shoulders, taking in a deep breath of courage, as you realized you would have to go shoo Steve away.
“Girls,” You start, “Miss Sharon isn’t going to want to hear that you spent your practice time gawking at Steve Harrington. I’m going to go tell him he needs to leave because he’s distracting you from your work that you know you need to be doing. When I get back, I expect all of you to be focused and practicing the first part of the contemporary piece,” Your voice has grown firm and assertive.
The girls chatter died down, eyes wide, embarrassed that you were about to go outside and rat them out.
You close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for this conversation. You shakily make your legs move out of the studio room, into the front reception, and through the front door onto the sidewalk
Steve doesn’t notice you at first. He’s pacing, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut. You notice the flowers immediately. They’re beautiful.
Your heart feels like it lodges itself in your throat, confidence slipping when Steve finally stops and notices you watching him.
You watch as his eyes soften, taking you in. They catch yours and you have to force yourself to look away from those sweet brown eyes of his. You hate that you know that sometimes they look more like a dark hazel in certain lighting.
You clear your throat and cross your arms in front of you defensively, “What are you doing here, Steve?”
He finches at the use of his first name. You only ever called him Stevie or Harrington now, and the word ‘Steve’ just wasn’t in your vocabulary anymore when it came to him.
His eyes cast over you, heart picking up because man, you look gorgeous, and he hasn’t seen you in what’s felt like forever. As you stand there, the silence grows heavy, and he realizes he needs to say something before he loses the opportunity to.
“I’m, I’m sorry. God, it’s just so good to see you,” He stumbles over the words that leave his mouth.
He catches a hint of your cheeks darkening, knowing you must be flushing from his words. He takes it as a sign to continue.
“I um, I got these for you,” He says hesitantly, gently offering you the flowers he’s holding. The shock and confusion is clear on your face.
You take them from him, fingers grazing his hand, “For me?”
“Yeah, who else would they be for, Miss Sharon?” Steve teasingly replies, giving you that charming smile of his.
“You remembered what flowers I like,” You whisper. The fact that he went out of his way to buy you flowers is making your stomach somersault.
“I remember a lot of things when it comes to you, sweetheart,” Steve replies, choosing to be up front with you, wanting his intent with this conversation to be clear.
The nickname for you causes you to look up at him beneath your lashes, a little embarrassed at having all this attention on you from him.
“This is the prettiest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen,” You tell him, admiring the multitude of colors and ribbon that binds them together. They smell sweet, and you look up to shyly meet Steve’s eyes. He’s already watching you, his lips twitching into a smile.
“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Spills from his mouth, and it knocks the wind out of you. Your lips part, eyes growing wide at what he’s just said.
“W-what?” You squeak out, the pitch in your tone rising.
Steve takes a tentative step towards you, and then another, until he’s close enough to enter the space that you’d normally consider your personal bubble. But it’s Steve, so you don’t say anything because you didn’t really care if he popped it.
“I mean it. You’re insanely gorgeous,” He whispers, hand reaching towards your neck, gently brushing at the skin there.
“Stevie, I don’t understand,” You choke out, and Steve’s so glad to hear that name back on your lips.
“You went quiet on me, angel,” Steve’s fully in front of you now, the tips of his sneakers brushing your ballet slippers.
He knows you shouldn’t be walking outside with them on, as they’re made for indoor dance floors, and he decides to be bold since you haven’t pulled away from him yet.
He slips an arm around your waist and drags you to him so that you can rest your feet on his. It causes your hands to fly to his chest, hands grasping at his vest so you feel more stable. The flowers now press between your chests, but Steve’s careful not to crush them.
You feel like you’re about to start hyperventilating. Your brain is malfunctioning at the fact that Steve’s being sweet on you like this. Then you remember his words, about going quiet on him. You start to feel guilty, knowing that he had been doing everything he could to get you to talk with him when he really hadn’t done anything wrong per se.
You hang your head down, tears gathering in your eyes of the thought of him and that girl you had seen. You inhale, trying to gather your thoughts, but he’s just too close to think straight. You get ready to pull away from him, second guessing if you could have this conversation with him right now.
Steve senses your hesitancy, and tries to stop himself from going into panic mode. He refuses to let you run away this time.
“Wait, please. It’s okay, I understand why. I know what I did, and I’m so sorry, angel,” He ducks his head, trying to get you to look at him.
“If you don’t want this, I understand. I’ll let you go, but I need you to know how sorry I am. I’m an idiot. I screwed up,” He thumbs away a stray tear that was falling down your cheek.
You already know what he's talking about. He must've seen you that day. Or somehow put two to two together and knew his behavior had scared you off.
“Steve, it’s okay. I know it’s not like that between us, and you can flirt with whoever you want to. I don’t want you to do this out of pity,” The words are broken as you speak them through the hiccup of your crying.
“This is not out of pity, and I don’t want anyone else. I want to flirt with you, only you,” He whispers, forehead dropping to years, trying to get even closer to you.
“I mean, we belong together, don’t we? I think we always have,” Steve continues, nose nudging yours softly.
“I got worried,” You admit to him, “I didn’t want to watch you fall in love with someone who wasn’t me.”
“Sweetheart, I’m totally and completely gone for you. I’ve just been too scared to admit it. Our friendship is the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, but I want more. I can’t imagine my life without you,” Steve’s hands move from your neck to your jaw, “Please tell me you want this too.”
“I’ve always wanted you, Stevie,” You assure him, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
It causes him to grin cheekily, joking about how you missed, and suddenly his mouth is on yours. His lips are soft, warm to the touch, and he kisses you like he needs air to breathe.
He effortlessly grabs the flower bouquet between the two of you, and puts the hand that’s holding it now around you, so the bouquet rests on your upper back, his arm pulling you impossibly closer.
You gasp at the movement, and Steve takes the opportunity to let his tongue explore your mouth. Your hands, free now, trail up his chest. You grip onto the lapels of the vest, crushing yourself to him.
Steve makes a noise vaguely resembling a whimper. It drives you wild hearing his want for you expressed this way, and your lips continue to kiss him feverishly.
Sadly, all good things come to an end and you have to pull back to suck air into your lungs. Steve just follows you, continues to press at your open mouth, not willing to let you go just yet.
“We’re in public,” You mumble out between kisses.
“I don’t care,” Steve says back, before pulling away from your lips only to trail his up your jaw and to the shell of your ear.
“I’ve got to get back to work,” Your eyes nearly roll back at the feeling of him continually peppering kisses to your exposed skin.
“Stay here with me,” He whines, ultimately convincing you to stay for a moment more.
You reach up, looping your arms around his neck. You press your lips to his again, tilting your head to kiss him deeply.
You feel Steve’s breath start to increase, and when his lips part slightly, you take advantage of the movement, gently biting down on his bottom lip.
Steve’s whining again at the feeling, “God, where did you learn that?”
You’re giggling at his reaction, and he mumbles out a, "You making fun of me, angel?"
You can't help but grin at his words, and he playfully starts to press his lips anywhere he can get to on your exposed skin.
As you start to pull away for real this time, you smile widely at him. He’s a vision with his lips flushed from being kiss bitten and eyes still sparkling with want.
“I really have to go back in, Stevie. But, maybe you could pick me up from work today?” You ask him hopefully.
You gingerly lift a hand to fix some hair that’s fallen into his eyes. He briefly closes them, humming contently at the feeling.
“I’d do anything for you,” His hands fall from your waist and jaw, offering you the flower bouquet again. You take it, and then he takes your free hand, brings it to his lips and kisses the back of it.
“Could I maybe also take you out tonight? Talk a bit more about this, us?” He asks quietly, starting to get a bit shy, fidgeting with his vest.
You can’t help it. He’s just too cute not to shower with more affection. You lean up to kiss him again, taking him by surprise. He huffs out this sweet little noise, making it harder for you to leave him.
“I’d love that,” You smile, kissing him goodbye one more time for good measure, and finally break away from him to go back inside the building.
“I’ll miss you, gorgeous,” Steve calls out as you turn.
“It’s only two hours, Stevie,” You laugh sweetly at him.
“Two hours too long. How will I survive without you?” He groans dramatically, grasping at his heart.
Curse him. You dart back to him, throwing yourself at him. He catches you with ease, and it’s a little awkward with the flowers in your way, but you can’t leave without hugging this perfect man goodbye. His head nuzzles into your neck, presses another kiss there lovingly.
“Bye, Stevie,” You grin at him, going back into the studio for real this time.
You miss it, because your back is turned to him, but Steve does a little first pump into the air, spinning on his heel once he watches you go inside and starts to head back to Family Video to share the good news with Robin and Dustin.
The girls inside sure didn’t miss it though. They didn’t miss a single thing.
You had been so lost in your own world with Steve, that you forgot about the window you were standing in front of.
The girls had huddled in the front reception room, staring out the window at the scene you two had just created. Unfortunately for them, your feet moved faster than they had time to head back onto the dance floor.
When you walked in, you stopped dead at the sight of them gaping at you. The girl who had been trash talking Steve before looks mortified, as she should.
You were speechless, utterly embarrassed over the fact that they had all just watched you make out like your life depended on it with Steve Harrington, the boy that had just been the topic of their choice not that long ago.
Before you could find something to say, the girls scattered back to class. They immediately started the routine you had asked them to do earlier, and you didn’t have a single girl complain or mock you behind your back for the rest of class.
You couldn’t believe that all it took was the sight of you and Steve locking lips together to get them to zip it and listen to you.
And when the class had ended a couple hours later after their intensive training for their upcoming performance, Steve was waiting for you again.
You had locked up the studio, waving goodbye to the girls, when he had snuck up behind you, wrapped his arms around your middle and spun you around.
You laughed loudly at his antics, and when he put you down, you saw as the girls had paused to watch again on their way to their cars. They scattered quickly again when they saw you looking at them, and Steve looked at you in confusion.
“What was that about?” He asks, taking your hand and leading you towards his car.
“Oh nothing, really. I just think the girls respect me a bit more after today,” You smile at him as he opens the passenger door up for you. You pause before getting in, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
“I think you should hang around the studio more often,” You grin mischievously.
Steve doesn’t really know why you’ve got that glint in your eye, but he brushes your bottom lip with his thumb and tells you that you missed again, grabbing your chin to tilt your head and kiss you softly.
He lets you get fully settled in the car before closing the door for you and making his way to the drivers side. As he backs his Beamer out, and onto the main drag of the road, Steve carefully slips his palm on top of your thigh.
“Is this okay? Tell me if it’s not,” He says earnestly.
You can’t help but think back to the time when you were trying to get over him, how Billy had touched you in a similar way, but it had felt so violating. With Steve, it felt like coming home.
“More than okay,” You tell him, placing a hand on top of his that’s pressed to you.
As you lovingly watch him chatter on about the rest of his day at the store, you can’t help but agree with what he had said to you early. Yes, you and Steve really did belong together.
i’ve spent years deciding what parts of me the world gets to see, because being fully visible was never safe. but i’ve decided it’s time you see some of them now.
aperture lets the light in.
an aperture controls how much light reaches the film. too much and the image is over-exposed. too little and it’s just darkness. i’ll let you see parts of me. but i’m choosing how much, and when.
it finally appears.
the thing that's been there the whole time becomes visible now. slowly. intentionally. a little at a time. like developing film.
its only love.
that’s the funny thing. how simple it actually is. not a scandal. not a secret worth destroying lives over. just love. the thing that was never the problem in the first place.
we belong together.
not separated. not split for other people’s comfort. together in the light we choose to be seen in. whatever that looks like.
This man has it right. Evolving is what good artists do. It shows they are true artists. If you want the old Harry sound then go listen to it. But Harry is being true to himself and to his artistry and is evolving and changing. We should all be doing that. Take a listen:
Photo moots - cool difference between f3.2 and f9 and its impact on the background. This is a 400mm 2.8. (I retired her, shes just a little too lorge to be hiking around with, but a baddie none the less).
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