#dirty dancing

steve, on the other hand, has been spiraling. it’s gonna look like the two of you are on a date. he’s driving you there, and he knows already that he’s gonna rush ahead to open the doors for you, and he’ll jump at the offer to pay for your ticket, your popcorn and literally anything else you’ll want because steve harrington is also absolutely, insanely, obsessively in love with you. he wishes with every goddamn fibre of his being that you really were going on a date, but he’ll take what he can get.

when he parks his car in front of the library so the two of you can cross the road to the cinema, you reach for the handle of your car door the moment your seatbelt is off, and steve notices immediately.

“uh-uh,” he warns you, pointing and shooting you a look, and you roll your eyes with a playful smile, but sit back and watch as he scrambles from the car, almost tripping over his feet as he rushes around the hood of his beamer, running a hand through his well-styled hair before opening the car door for you. “here you go.”

“thank you, steve,” you roll your eyes at him as you step out, and steve takes it seriously. did he really just annoy you doing that? idiot. but then you shoot him that toothy grin that makes him weak in the knees and you loop your arm with his, dragging him across the street and towards the hawk. “come on, before we miss the showing ‘cause you were busy being a gentleman.”

“hey!” he chuckles, his brows furrowing, not quite sure if he should take your comment as a compliment or an insult. he’s still thinking it over as he pays for both of the tickets, despite your protests, and he’s still thinking it over as he reaches for the door handle to the hawk theater, and lets you enter the building first, feeling the cool air-conditioned breeze escaping as he does so.

while the two of you wait in line for the concession stand, you begin talking to steve about the film. he doesn’t really listen. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, he actually really tries his best to listen, but as he stares at you explaining god-knows what, he gets a little lost and almost every word goes in one ear, just to fall right out the other a second later.

you’re just so beautiful. and funny. and your eyes are so pretty. and so is your voice, the one you’re talking to him with right now. and the outfit you’re wearing just to see a movie with your best friend is making steve’s mouth go dry. he’s so screwed.

“...set in the 60s, i think…teaches her to dance…grey, from ferris bueller, and…you know, patrick swayze, right, steve?”

steve has to blink a few times after you say his name–it’s like music to his ears–and his eyes snap away from where they had been locked onto your lips to meet your eyes before you look up at him.

“huh?” he asks, and you scoff, rolling your eyes again, but your lip curls into a small smile.

“you’re so annoying, steve, you’re not even listening!” steve gets so hung up on your words, that he doesn’t notice the fondness in your tone, or the soft giggle that follows. annoying? goddammit, harrington, get your shit together.

“sorry,” he says a little bashfully, looking down at his nike’s and scuffing one foot against the carpet. “what were you saying? patrick who?”

“patrick swayze,” you repeat the name, and steve notices the fondness in your tone when you say that guy’s name, but not when you say his own, because of course he doesn’t.

“what’s he from?” steve queries, ignoring the way his heart hurts at just the implication of you possibly liking someone else, even if it is some celebrity. but what can he expect? he doesn’t own you, and he certainly had never made a move on you, despite the fact he’s been head-over-heels in love with you for the better half of a decade.

“um…” you bite your lip, like you’re putting thought into it, trying to think of a film steve had seen, but steve just takes it as you having a crush on this swayze guy (which you do, to be fair). “oh! he was in that one… the outsiders! remember that one?”

“that the one with the guys with weird names and lame hair?” steve questions, and you snicker, patting his arm. the way your fingertips brush against his jacket sends jolts up steve’s arm and right into his heart.

“sure, if that’s how you wanna describe it,” you say as you reach the front of the line, and you turn your attention to the tired-looking teenage girl in front of you, whose eyes keep flickering between steve and you. “and of course you only notice their hair.”

“what do you wanna get?” steve asks, already pulling out his wallet from the back pocket of his levi’s, and you scoff.

“steve, you don’t have to pay for me every time we go out, you know?” you point out, reaching for your purse, but he brushes you off, waving his hand at you and shaking his head, the smallest smirk itching to slip onto his face.

“i know,” he just shrugs. “what do you want?”

–

about two hours later, steve’s leaving the cinema with you by his side, and you are positively beaming, but somehow still dabbing at tears in the corners of your eyes.

steve didn’t totally hate the movie, he had actually kind of enjoyed it, but there’s no way he’s admitting that to you. however, he doesn’t quite get why you’re crying. the movie wasn’t really sad or anything, it was just dancing.

“you okay? it’s just a movie,” he asks, almost teasingly, and you shoot him a sharp look, painfully similar to a glare, as you wipe the tears from your eyes. steve’s taken aback. “what did i do?”

“‘just a movie,’” you repeat with a scoff. “god, steve.”

“what?” he asks, his forehead creasing as his brows drew inwards, a frown settling on his lips. idiot, idiot, idiot!! steve, you better shut up before you say something else stup– “i mean, it was? they’re just dancing.”

you roll your eyes at him, and steve is cursing at himself in his head. if robin could see him now, she’d be adding another 50 lines to the ‘you suck’ side of the old whiteboard she used to keep in the back of scoops ahoy.

“it was sweet, steve,” you put emphasis on the word, though your tears have dried now. “‘nobody puts baby in a corner’–” you let out a groan, and steve’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed carefully at the sound. “and the lift? the way he looked at her… the kiss… it was all so… so beautiful.” you let out another groan and wipe your eyes, erasing any evidence that you had even been crying before shooting steve a look. “whatever, i forgot boys don’t have emotions.”

steve let out a guffaw, shaking his head at you with a scoff and you raise your brows at him. he points towards himself, giving you an incredulous look like you’re acting crazy. “i have emotions.”

“okay, so how did you feel about the movie, then?” you ask as the two of you cross the road towards his beamer again. steve shrugs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his brown jacket.

“it was… good,” steve says first, then he notices the look you’re giving him. he’s quick to correct himself. “nice. it was nice.”

“it was nice.” you repeat, and with the way your eyes stare him down, steve feels like he messed up his answer.

“uh, yeah,” he chuckles, reaching for his car keys as he clears his throat, scrunching one of his hands into a fist and holding it in front of his mouth to cover the cough. “i mean, like, it was good.”

“you’re just proving my point, steve,” you giggle, and steve’s heart flips in his chest at the sound. he was midway through unlocking the car, but now he’s distracted, watching you. you’re still beautiful even when you’re complaining about him. “you’re telling me nothing in that movie–nothing at all–made you feel anything?”

he just shrugs again and goes back to unlocking the car. “i mean, the sex scenes really got me going…”

“gross!” you make a face and steve hides the way it almost upsets him. he misses the way you cover an amused smile with your hand. “you’re an idiot.”

“i know,” he sighs as he slides into the driver’s seat, watching you take your usual spot in his passenger seat. 

close to halfway into the drive to your house, steve’s mind is almost spiraling. he’s recounting (and overthinking) every single interaction the two of you had today. you called him annoying, you called him an idiot, you glared at him, said he didn’t have feelings… do you actually just hate him?

but then he thinks about how inside the cinema, when baby and johnny kissed for the first time, his eyes had flicked over to you. he could’ve sworn that, even in the darkness, you had met his eyes before looking away. he thinks about how your hands brushed against each other when you were both reaching for popcorn at the same time. he thinks about how when you had started to cry, you had actually held his hand, just for a moment.

your voice interrupts his thoughts, forcing its way into his head where it lives permanently.

“you know, i think jennifer grey and patrick swayze had some really good chemistry in that movie, don’t you?” you say, and steve is brought back into reality, where you’re sitting in the passenger side of his car, talking to him, and he’s just staring into space.

“who?” he asks, confusion overtaking his features.

“baby and johnny,” you clarify for him, not sounding too bothered that you had to, and steve nods. “i thought they were really good.”

steve sees the opportunity, and he takes it. “just good?”

you crack a smile, and steve’s heart soars in his chest. he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel as you shake your head. “fine. you got me. happy?”

“very,” he tells you, proud smile on his face. but that would soon disappear as you continue talking. your voice is usually his favorite sound, but not when you talk about guys you like.

you don’t do it often. in fact, steve had only actually heard you talking about a guy you had a crush on once a couple months back, and that was only because he had overheard you saying something to robin through the wall while he was in the back room of family video. he had no idea who the guy was.

the memory makes steve frown, his stomach twisting uncomfortably in jealousy as he listens to you talk.

“patrick swayze was really good,” you were saying, biting your bottom lip to hold back a smile. steve tries his best to drown out the rest of your words, jealousy still bubbling in his gut, but the end of your sentence catches his attention. “–and he had nice hair. i really like guys with nice hair, you know?”

“huh,” is all steve says aloud. it sounds like you like guys with nice hair, except for when it comes for your best friend who’s hopelessly pining for you. he feels like his throat is closing up, but he’s not gonna cry. his grip on the steering wheel tightens until his knuckles start to go white.

you hum in response. if steve would just turn his head a little to the right he’d see that you were staring at him, hoping he understood what you were implying. your shoulders sag a little while his eyes stay on the road, his brows knitted together.

“so, you have a crush on this patrick guy?” steve attempts to say it light-hearted and teasingly, but the words taste bitter on his tongue, and he’s worried it comes out that way too.

“i mean, yeah, i guess,” you reply and steve nods slowly, doing an awful job at looking unbothered. “but he’s just an actor, steve. i like–” you clear your throat quickly. “i like someone else more.”

someone else. right.

“right,” steve’s still nodding, staring ahead, trying to ignore the way his heart had practically just snapped in half inside his chest. “right, of course.”

you send steve a puzzled look, but he’s not paying any attention anymore. the car is silent for another couple of minutes before you speak again, almost out of nowhere.

“your hair looks nice today, steve,” you compliment, your words coming out shaky, nervous, and steve’s head snaps in your direction immediately, tearing his eyes from the empty road so they land on you.

he swallows and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. he’s facing the road again before he trusts himself to speak. “really?”

steve looks over at you again as you nod. you’re smiling at him, and you have this look in your eyes he’s never noticed before. do you look at him like that all of the time?

“yeah,” you say, twisting your body in your seat so you’re facing him, leaning to the side against the headrest. “it looks really nice. you look cute.”

steve’s practically short circuiting now. he’s struggling to grasp his thoughts, or to string words together, so he just repeats you. “uh, you… you look cute, too.”

he used to be so confident in flirting, so why the hell is he practically melting into a puddle when you called him cute? you grin widely, looking like you’ve just won something.

“you think so?” you ask and steve nods, and then he notices the way your grin fades into a shy smile. that’s when steve realizes that he really had been an idiot.

he had been reading into things the wrong way for god knows how long.

“yeah,” he says with a matching smile as he pulls into your driveway. once his car is parked, steve’s facing you again. “so…”

“so?” you ask, not quite meeting his eyes. steve begins to grin.

“call me crazy if i’m wrong,” he starts, taking off his seatbelt and shifting his entire body so he’s facing you. “but are you flirting with me?” 

your eyebrows shoot up and you tease playfully, “you’re crazy.”

“you’re driving me crazy,” he says, pointing at you. “i mean, you’re saying stuff about liking guys with nice hair, then you say i have nice hair. then you’re calling me cute? you’ve got to give a guy a warning before you say that stuff.”

“why?” you ask innocently, and steve wonders if this had been your plan all along when you invited him out today. do you know he’s in love with you?

“‘why?’” he shakes his head and exhales deeply. “jesus. uh, clearly because i’ve been totally in love with you for years.”

if you didn’t know before, steve’s made it perfectly clear now. the confession comes out confidently, unlike how steve had been acting just minutes before, and he watches as you look down at your hands.

“really?” you question softly and he nods.

“well, yeah, what’s not to love?” he asks you and you shrug, that wide smile having returned to your face. steve reaches forward to brush some hair behind your ear, then lets his hand cup your cheek.

“well, i’m sorry, steve, but my heart belongs to someone else,” you tell him, and for just a second steve thinks you’re serious, until you add, “it’s patrick swayze.”

“you’re ridiculous,” he chuckles, then leans across the centre console to kiss you. 

the moment your lips connect, your arms are wrapping around his neck to pull him closer, one hand disappearing into his nice hair, threading through the strands and tugging gently.

you pull back for just a second to meet steve’s eyes as he presses his forehead against yours. your hand that wasn’t in his hair drifts down from his neck to sit on his shoulder.

“i love you too, steve,” you whisper, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before going on. “robin said i was being really obvious with it.”

“did she, now?” he chuckles, kissing you once more.

“mm-hmm,” you pull back to keep talking. “she also told me that you’re in love with me, but i would have to make the first move because you ‘suck at talking to girls now’ and you’re ‘too oblivious to realize when i flirt with you’.”

steve groans and squeezes his eyes shut, letting his hand drop from your cheek to instead grab your hip. “she’s such a traitor.”

“really? ‘cause it seems like she’s done you a favor,” you point out, your lips grazing his once more. “if it weren’t for her, i doubt this would be happening.”

“don’t give her too much credit, baby, you apparently planned all of this like some criminal mastermind,” steve scoffs, then notices the way your eyes light up.

“what did you just call me?” you ask, and steve looks at you confused.

“a criminal mastermind?” he frowns and you chuckle.

“no, before that, silly.” you say, still dragging your hands through his hair.

“baby?” he says and you grin as you lean in to kiss him again.

“just like in the movie,” you murmur before your lips connect, and steve laughs into the kiss, pulling you in closer.

“yeah, just like in the movie,” he agrees, affectionately, before going in for another kiss, this one deeper, hungrier, messier. his tongue enters your mouth, clashing against your own as you moan into it, gripping him tighter. a confident smirk slips onto steve’s face before you’re pulling back again.

“steve, you should take dance lessons–” you start, but he cuts you off with a peck, then presses one finger against your lips.

“shh. less talking, baby, more kissing,” he says and you roll your eyes as he leans in again. you lift your hand to push his face back gently.

“and you wanna keep kissing in your car? or do you wanna make out on my couch until my parents get home?” you suggest and steve’s entire face lights up like an overjoyed puppy as he reaches for the door handle, but not before he leans in to cup your cheek and kiss you once more.

–

a/n: i was planning this one for a while and now that i've gotten a look at it... this mf kinda ugly... sorry if this is disappointing lol, i kinda just felt like i should post something on here. thank you if you've gotten this far, more spidey!steve soon, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3