#requested

“I’m fine, my love… although it would be nice if you’d lay with me,” you said with a soft smile, tilting your head.

He chuckled, making his way toward the bed. Then, very deliberately, he dropped his full weight across you, crushing you into the mattress.

“Ow—Zuko!” you giggled, playfully pushing and slapping at his arm.

“Oh, wow. I never realized how bumpy this bed is,” he said, continuing to squirm around and make things worse.

Your giggle become louder “Zuko, stop it—you’re heavy!” He gave one last squirm before going completely still.

After a moment, he rolled off and settled beside you. The room fell into a comfortable silence as his hand searched for yours, fingers lacing together.

While you lay there, your eyes tracing the golden engraved symbols on the ceiling, your mind drifted back to your wedding.

Your mother was visiting, determined to give her daughter the grandest wedding this nation had ever seen. She had been extremely skeptical at first, marrying her only daughter off to the Fire Nation, given its history…but your father had reassured her. He’d insisted you would be fine. That you could handle your own and he was right.

Besides, if you didn’t like Zuko, you would’ve found a way out of this betrothal just like you had with the last four. You were good at scaring men off, although… it would be a little more difficult with Zuko. He matched your crazy a little too well.

Which got you thinking.

“Hey, Zuko?”

“Hm?”

“What would you do if we broke up?”

It was as if he stopped breathing. His body went stiff beside you, and after what felt like forever, his head slowly turned to face you.

“…Why would we do that?”

You turned toward him and shrugged. “I dunno. Just curious.”

Zuko sat up, concern written all over his face. You followed.

“Have I done something to offend you or make you uncomfortable? I know I have a temper, but I’m working on it. And if I haven’t been spending enough time with you, that can be arranged—”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Is it the citizens? I know they aren’t too happy I’m marrying someone from the water tribe, but I can have that dealt with—”

Your eyes widened as you shook your head again. “No, no, Zuko. I’m just curious. It’s hypothetical.”

He went quiet for a moment.

“Well… if we were to ever call off our engagement, I would… I would be saddened by that,” he admitted. “I’ve grown to enjoy your company. You’re a very intelligent woman. I appreciate your love for literature. I like our late-night walks. I admire the effort you’ve taken to learn our history and traditions.”

He paused briefly.

“I especially like when we sneak into the kitchen after hours to steal sweets.” A faint smile tugged at his lips.

“You are a kind soul. I believe you are a good woman… and would make an even greater wife… and mother, if— if that’s what you choose.” He looked away, his voice lowering at the end, a faint pink tinting his cheeks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do you just see me as someone who can carry your heir?”

He panicked immediately.

“No no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant— you have a maternal side—you’re good with children— I mean, not that you have to— I-”

“Zuko,” you said, laughing as you fell back onto the mattress, “calm yourself. I’m just messing with you. I’m not going anywhere.”

He slowly laid back beside you, though the skeptical look on his face lingered.

•••

The rest of the week… Zuko had been off. Not distant— no, the complete opposite. He constantly hovered.

“Do you need anything?”

“Are you too warm?”

“Should I have the servants bring you something?”

“Do you want to rest? I can cancel my meetings.”

At first, you thought it was sweet. He was being very attentive, catering to your every need but by the fifth day, it was too much. You couldn’t even pee without him being right outside the door, even the servants were starting to notice.

Zuko’s not known for being openly affectionate let alone clingy. 

“Zuko,” you sighed, barely glancing up from your book, “I’m fine.”

He lingered anyway, sitting across from you. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you said simply.

Every time you denied his help, something in his expression dimmed just a little more.

By the end of the week, the silence between you had grown awkward and heavy.

Dinner that night was quiet. The long table stretched between you, dishes laid out beautifully. Steamed rice, glazed fish, roasted vegetables but neither of you seemed interested. The only sounds were the soft clink of utensils against porcelain and the faint crackle of lanterns lining the walls.

Zuko hadn’t said more than a few words since sitting down.

And you… you hadn’t tried to fill the silence. You picked at your food, eyes occasionally drifting up to him. His posture was stiff, movements controlled, like he was holding something back.

He hadn’t been like this before, not with you so why now?

You sighed quietly, setting your chopsticks down. “You’re doing it again.”

His hand stilled “…Doing what?”

“This,” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “The hovering. The silence. The weird energy, what’s the matter?”

He didn’t respond right away.

You leaned back slightly in your chair. “Zuko—”

“Why would you even ask that?” he finally snapped. The words cut through the room, sharp and sudden.

You blinked, caught off guard, looking up at him confused. “Ask what?”

He let out a short breath, pushing his plate away as he stood. The legs of his chair scraped softly against the floor. “That question,” he said, beginning to pace. “About us breaking off the engagement.”

Oh.

You frowned, turning in your seat to follow him. “Zuko, it was a joke—”

“Well It wasn’t funny.” The room went still, even the lantern flames seemed to quiet. You watched him for a moment, your expression tightening just slightly. 

“You’re still on that?”

“I don’t understand why you would say something like that if you weren’t thinking about it,” he continued, voice tightening with each word. “Unless you are thinking about it.”

You let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking. I told you it was just hypothetical. Its not that deep.”

He stopped pacing just slowly, he turned to look at you. “Right,” he muttered, looking away. “Of course it’s not.”

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t give you the chance anyway with a quick turn, he headed for the door. The sound of it sliding open echoed louder than it should have.

Your gaze dropped to the untouched food in front of you, the warmth from it already fading. You exhaled slowly, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing.

“He’s being dramatic,” you muttered under your breath, but deep down you felt horrible. 

•••

Later on that night you found him in the training room.

Of course you did.

The air was thick with heat instantly covering your skin in a thin layer of sweat The sharp scent of smoke lingering as he moved through forms quick, controlled, but just a little too aggressive.

You leaned against the doorway, watching for a second thinking of what to say. 

“…You know,” you started, “if you keep training like that, you might actually melt the floor. Then we’ll have a whole new problem.”

He didn’t even pause. Okay… humor won’t work. You pushed off the doorway and stepped fully inside, slower this time.

“Zuko.” Nothing. He ignored you as if you weren’t there. Which kind of stung but you couldn’t blame him. 

You exhaled softly, “listen i’m sorry.”

His movements came to an immediate halt. His shoulders rose and fell once before he turned to face you.

“I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that,” you continued, more serious now. “I didn’t realize it actually bothered you.”

He looked at you for a moment, all that tension still sitting in his expression.

“I just…” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I thought—”

“I know,” you said gently. “You thought I was trying to leave and I’m sorry.”

He let out a quiet breath, gaze dropping. “I overthink,” he admitted. “I know I do. I just—when you said that, I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

You stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said simply.

That made his eyes lift back to yours. “I like you too much,” you added, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Something in his expression softened immediately.

“…Yeah?” he asked, quieter now.

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence. Then he huffed a small breath, almost embarrassed. 

“I may have been… a little much.”

You raised an eyebrow. “A little?”

He gave you a look paired with an eye roll. “…Okay, very.”

You laughed softly, closing the distance between you.

“And I shouldn’t have called you dramatic,” you admitted. “Well— out loud.”

That earned you the smallest hint of a smile. “Come here,” he murmured.

You didn’t hesitate, you walked closer closing the space between you.

His hand found your waist, pulling you in as your fingers curled against his sweaty chest. The tension from the past week melted quickly, replaced by something softer, something warmer.

Your lips met his, slow at first, then deeper as he pulled you closer.

“See?” you murmured against his lips. “Still want you, and very much might I add.”

He let out a quiet breath, pressing his forehead to yours before kissing you again, this time with more certainty. You smiled into it.

“Wait you called me dramatic?”

“Shhh you’re ruining the moment.”

©hon3y0logy 2026 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission. Do not feed my work into any AI programs.

You looked over to him like he was mad, catching glimpses of him in the street lights through the dark. "The truth?"

Steve hesitated. "Ok, so maybe not the whole truth but I'll just say... we were caught in traffic."

If caught in traffic meant you were too distracted with Steve's hand down your pants to realise the time had way gone over your curfew. By the time you were both smiling and giddy, the movie theatre was almost closing for the night and the both of you had to hurry out the bathroom stall.

Really you were too old for a curfew. A year out of high school and yet your mom still wanted you home by ten. Any other kid might have been annoyed, snapped, maybe even ran away from their 'strict parents' but you knew your mom wasn't strict.

She was terrified to wake up and find another one of her children missing.

Steve rolled in to park in front of your house, the headlights dimming.

The front room lights were on.

"Shit," you mumbled, falling back into your seat.

"Hey, it's okay," said Steve, resting a hand on the back of your seat and looking at you. The way that he did, the flop of his hair and the concern in his eyes. And with the stretch back of his arm you just wanted to climb into his lap again. "Your mom'll understand, she'll just be happy you're safe."

You looked at him and sighed, nodding.

The two of you got out the car, Steve attaching to your side like Velcro as he took your hand, entwining your fingers.

You'd only just opened the door when your mom was swinging it open.

"Oh my god, thank god, thank god-"

"Mom-"

"Where've you been?" she snapped.

Steve followed you in, gently closing the door behind him. "It was my fault, Mrs Byers, we bumped into a few friends of mine and got talking after the movie."

"For an hour?" she asked.

You lifted your shoulders. "They're talkative friends."

Hopper- chief of police in the day and mom's boyfriend by night- was perched on the sofa, cigarette lose in hand. He was hunched over. "You scared your mother half to death," he said.

If it were just a boyfriend of your mom's you might have said something, but Hopper was the closest thing to a present father you had.

"I'm sorry, I really am," you said. "I didn't mean to worry you."

Your mom bristled but gave up. She was never good at being angry for long, not with her kids. Her hands took your arms, rubbing up and down. "Just... call next time, okay?"

"I will, I promise."

"Okay."

Steve gave a small, pursed smile. He squeezed your hand from where he still held it. "I am really sorry, Mrs Byers."

She gave her own smile, an assuring one that things weren't bad between them and folded her arms over her chest. "It's okay."

"Anyway, we're pretty beat, we're just gonna, head to bed."

"Okay, sweetie, sleep well." Joyce rubbed your shoulder as you and Steve walked by quietly down the hall to not wake either of your brothers. It was lucky Joyce didn't mind Steve staying over. It used to be he snuck in when it got dark and snuck back out as the sun rose, but there Joyce accepted it.

She'd rather have you- the both of you- safe under her roof then outside and sneaking around where the danger lurked.

You looked back. "Night mom, Hop."

"Night," grumbled Hopper.

"Goodnight."

You closed the door behind the two of you.

Joyce slumped, sighing out a deep breath. She'd been alight with tension and worry as the minutes passed by from when she expected you home. She called Hopper, hoping he'd go out and look for you but he only drove to the house and explained he couldn't send out a search party just because you were late.

Not because the worst didn't also cross his mind, but because he knew what kids got up to.

You weren't too old like Jonathon to have things under control, and you weren't young like Will where it was all new. You were in that scary middle stage. The kind he feared was dawning on El sooner rather than later.

Joyce sat down next to him on the sofa, taking a puff of the cigarette he offered. "I'm sorry for calling you here, I know it was stupid."

"No, not stupid," he said. "You're worried, I get it. But you remember what it was like to be young and in love."

"Yeah," she smiled at the memories. Her and Hop's 'casual' hook-ups that turned less so as the years got on. Even the early stages with Lonnie when he was a decent guy.

Then, Joyce really remembered her and Hop's hook-ups.

"What? You don't think they were an hour late cause they were- they weren't-"

Hopper scoffed. "Joyce, c'mon."

It wasn't like Joyce was clueless. She had two boys and a girl. She knew what went on in the house. She always made sure, that just in case, there was... protection in the bathroom, kept deep in the cupboards.

But did you know that?

Oh god, had you and Steve been having sex without protection this whole time?

Joyce hadn't ever really had the conversation with you. Not even Will. Or Jonathon. It was just something they learnt in school. She'd rather talk to them about love, the deep emotional connection that went beyond physicality.

"I-wh- I hadn't thought about it," she admitted, stunned at herself that she hadn't.

"Of course they're doing it," said Hopper. "They're probably screwing like bunnies. They're young, have the energy for it and you know Harrington's type."

"His type?" asked Joyce. She'd be the first to admit she'd only heard of Steve through Jonathon and he never painted him in a particularly flattering light, but she'd seen him with you, even Will and she liked him enough to keep him in your life.

But her daughter was too much like her. You'd probably still be dating Steve without her blessing.

"Why do you think they were late? They were probably doing it in the back of his god damn BMW."

Joyce didn't know if she wanted to know about it or not. All she wanted was for her little girl to be happy... and not pregnant would be good.

Hopper lit a cigarette for her. Clearly she looked like she needed it.

It bugged Joyce for the rest of the week. Did you know how to be safe? The best ways to not get pregnant?

It's not like she didn't trust you, she did. But she knew what accidental pregnancy did. Karen hadn't really expected Nancy and Jonathon wasn't exactly planned for herself.

She tried to get about it, subtly. She brought a new box of condoms and put them in the bathroom cupboard. She had them at the front but Will had stumbled out with them in hand, blushing and asking why?

So, she put them at the back where you kept face wash.

Perhaps she got a bit nosy. When you went to work, Joyce was in your room under the pretence of cleaning. She looked through your draws, trying to see any birth-control pills or anything but she didn't find anything by the time Jonathon came home, asking what she was doing.

She said looking for a watch to borrow.

Jonathon clearly didn't believe her.

Joyce even tried talking to Jonathon.

"Do you know if your sister and Steve are... being safe?" she asked.

Perhaps she should have been more clear, because being safe in a town with a secret extra dimension growing on the side of it like a tumour could have meant anything.

Jonathon shrugged. "I mean, y/n knows how to fire a gun and Steve always keeps the bat in the back of his car-"

"No, I meant- I mean it's good!" she said, quickly. "It's good they're cautious. I just- I meant the other type of safe."

Jonathon didn't get it.

Joyce worked her way around the 'talk' but had to at least use the words. "Do you know... are they- are they practising safe sex?"

Jonathon's jaw dropped and he tried to quickly regain it. His neck raised in heat. "I- um... I- I dunno. It's not like we-we talk about it."

"But-"

"I gotta go, I'm- I'm running late for... school."

Jonathon graduated over a year ago but he hurried out.

Clearly Jonathon wasn't gonna be any help.

So, Joyce had to go straight to you. But you were so in and out of the house, busy with work or taking Max and El shopping or with Steve that catching you alone to have a talk was surprisingly difficult.

The only times you really had were breakfast... and Will always sat there too.

So, Joyce decided she'd try simple ways.

"You and Steve have been dating for what? How long now?" she asked one morning.

"A year and two-three months?" you said.

Will chuckled. "You don't know?"

You passed him a small glare. "I know."

"Woah," said Joyce. Time had flown. In that time a lot of sex could have been had. "Serious."

"When's the wedding?" teased Will.

You rolled your eyes, slurping your cereal.

Joyce silently thanked Will for opening up that talk. "Have you talked about it? I mean marriage and-and kids?"

You didn't think anything odd. "A little, sure. Just in passing. I'd do a spring wedding, probably stay in Hawkins. No where else really captures it for us, seems odd to move away after all that's happened. He wants something like six kids and-"

Joyce almost coughed up her juice. "Six? " did he know how difficult three were?

You chuckled, not catching the red at your mom's cheeks. "Yeah, crazy right but I reckon I can whittle him down to four. That way two each, nobody ever gets left out."

Joyce was momentarily distracted from her task. Was three bad? Did any of her children and some point feel left out? They always did things together as two kids, the older brother and younger brother looking out for their sister and you always had Will's back and was always best friends with Jonathon.

She was so lost in thought she didn't realise you and Will were getting up.

"Where're you guys going?" she asked, standing with you.

You and Will looked back to her, concerned. "Steve's taking Will to school and me to work. Like he does most days."

Joyce chuckled to herself. "Oh right, of course, have a good day!"

"I'm telling you, Steve, something is going on!" you ranted, leaning over the counter as Steve leaned over the other side, not even pretending to do some work. "Ever since I got home late two weeks ago she's been looking at me, asking me weird questions."

"What kind of questions?" he asked, absorbed in everything you were saying like your words held the keys to life.

"Questions about... us, mainly."

Steve was almost amused. His brows raised, lips quipped. "Us?"

"Yeah. It's crazy."

"Maybe she's warming up to the idea of us," he shrugged.

You knew Steve always worried your family wouldn't accept him because of his strained beginnings with Jonathon. You told him every time they loved him. Everyone, but maybe Jonathon, was happy. "Of course she has, they all have. They're happy I'm happy."

Steve hummed, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. "You're happy?"

You knew where his thoughts were. They'd followed his eyes. "Very happy."

"Good that makes me happy-" Steve leant in, kissing you soft and slow. Steve had mastered the art of every type of kiss. The slow one's that had your body melt into him, every part curling into his heat. But he could also kiss you till you lost your breath and gave you his. Hands fisting at your hair to keep you close so he could breath you in.

You never knew which one you wanted more.

Your hand crawled up, tugging at his family video vest to keep him close.

Steve groaned against your lips. "You're gonna get me fired."

You smirked against his lips. "That's the plan then I get you all to myself."

There was a dark rumble of a clear of the throat from behind you and you both pulled away quick to find Hopper there, paper bag in hand.

"Hey, Hops!" you greeted cheerfully.

Steve was less inclined to greet him like an old pal. He knew the stories of how protective he was over El with Mike and you were basically a daughter to him. He didn't fancy his chances with Hopper. "Hello... sir."

He kissed his teeth, holding up the bag. "Just came to return this, Miami Vice."

You backed away from the counter so he could get through to Steve. You watched, laughing to yourself at the furrowed brows of Hopper and the deathly pale expression of your boyfriend.

"You and El finished with that season?" you asked.

Hopper stood tall over the counter as Steve typed in his account info. "Yep."

"Yeah, it's-it's a good one," said Steve. "You want the next tape?"

"No. El had Eggo's before dinner again so we're taking a break," he said.

"Great," said Steve. "Not great that she disobeyed your rule, great that you're finished with this season. You know. Totally not cool, Eggo's before dinner. Not cool. You can tell her I said that."

"Why? Cause she'll listen to you?" he asked.

Steve cleared his throat. "No, no, she wouldn't listen to me."

"Good," said Hopper, tapping the counter when he's done. He turned to you. "Listen your mom and I are going out tonight, Enzo's."

You nodded. "Nice."

He nodded. "Yeah." Hopper looked between the two of you like he was going to say something else but he decided against it. Slowly, he walked out.

Steve took a deep breath when he left, testing his weight on the counter.

"What is wrong with you?" you laughed.

Steve groaned, hiding his face in his hands as the chiefs police car pulled away.

Then a lightbulb went in his head and he looked back up to you, eyes wide and curls over his eyes.

"Hey, did he say your mom's out tonight?" he checked.

"He did," you nodded.

"And Jonathon will be at Nancy's I assume," he said, raising up in hope.

You leant over, arms folded on the counter. "I imagine so."

Steve leant in next to you again, as if the interruption had never happened. "And... maybe when Will finds out it's just us and him he'd rather stay with, let's say, Mike?"

"What are you thinking, Handsome?" you asked as if you didn't already know.

Steve smirked. "I'm thinking we have a rare opportunity to have your place all to ourselves," he said. He waited, cocking his head side to side to find your reaction. You teased him, just because you could. "So I'll be round at eight?"

Eight rolled around and you were dragging Steve into your quiet home, quietly.

Although you'd been home for the last hour you didn't want to take any risks.

"Mom?" you called out. "Will? Jonathon?"

There was nothing but the low static of the tv.

You turned to Steve with a grin that vanished quickly when he dipped his head, kissing you. He kept his lips on yours, taking his time to taste you out as his hands guided down your arms, waist and settled at your hips as he stirred you back to the sofa.

"Steve," you moaned against his lips, pulling back enough to talk. "Bedroom."

He looked down at you, lips red from you kisses. "When we have the whole place to ourselves?" he said, playfully, before his eyes darkened. "Get on the sofa."

It was like being in a trance as you took two steps back and sat on your sofa, looking up at Steve like he was you god. In front of him was the hardening of his cock, hidden under trousers. But if you knew Steve, he wouldn't let you get so much as a look without making you cum once first.

Steve threw off his family video vest. "Take off your top."

Without looking away, you did so, throwing it behind the sofa while Steve rid of his own.

The only thing you loved more than the sight of his burly chest was kissing all over it.

Steve sank down, slowly, lips attaching to the swell of your breasts that spilled over your bray. He kept soft, fluttering touches with his lips but his hands were another story as he grabbed your hip with one, pulling you closer to the edge and with the other groped the flesh of your breast.

Your eyes closed in bliss, head tilted back. "St-Steve."

He licked over the mark he was leaving as his hands pulled back your jeans. "Lift your hips."

You did so, blissed out that you didn't realise Steve was pulling your legs apart until you felt his tongue sweep between your folds.

Your body jolted as he made quick work at getting comfy in your heat. "Steve."

"You know you have to be nice and wet to take me baby."

You smiled at the memories, re-living the times Steve worked you to your most relaxed to slide into you. The wild nights that came after that. Steve carried a size to him but you were never one to shy away. "You always get me- so wet," you gasped as he kissed along your clit.

"You're always so good for me, honey," he said, drunk on the smallest parts of you.

Steve nudged himself in, closer, hands reaching out to grab at your breasts again.

The two of you were just getting started and your high was already dawning. Your hand fell into Steve's hair, holding him there and steadily rocking your hips up to him. "St-Stevie!"

He moaned into you, sending out vibrations that could have your high all over him-

When headlight flared at the front window.

"Shit!" you cursed. "Oh god!"

Steve groaned, kissing over you. "Oh, I know."

"No, Steve-" you grabbed at his shoulder, pushing him away and urging him to turn around.

He got a look at the headlights just turning off. "Shit! Shit!"

The two of you scrambled up. You pulled up your jeans and did the buttons quick.

"Shit! Shit- where's your shirt?" asked Steve, trying to find all of his things.

"I don't know!"

Your mom and Hopper were laughing together outside the door.

Steve looked like a dear in headlights. "Here! Take this!" he shoved his shirt over to you and you yanked it on quick.

The door creaked.

The two of you threw yourself onto the sofa, Steve pulling a cushion over his crotch and the blanket from the back of the couch over his bare chest.

You were sat stiff together as your mom and Hopper stumbled in with laughter. They noticed you and paused. "Hey, Mom!" you greeted.

"Hey-" she took a look at you, in Steve's shirt and Steve, without a shirt and a cushion over his lap, and knew what they'd walked in on.

Hopper did to. "Jesus," he groaned.

You smiled, awkwardly. "We didn't-didn't think you'd be back so soon."

"It was an afternoon showing," said Hopper.

"Where are your brothers?" asked Joyce.

"Um, Jonathon is with Nance and Will's with Mike," you said.

"Oh, okay," said Joyce.

You watched as Hopper and Joyce shared a look, communicating without words. You didn't want to stick around for it. "Okay, well, um, hope you liked the film. We're gonna-gonna go now!" you stood up first, waiting for Steve to follow.

His lips were in a thin smile as he stood, walking very closely behind you. He followed you to your room, the cushion still clutched but less conspicuously.

"Actually," said Hopper, voice stopping the two of you in your tracks. "Your mom and I, we want a word."

You turned, Steve moving around behind you. "Okay."

"The both of you."

Ah. "Could this wait till tomorrow?" you asked. "Steve's not feeling... too well."

"No," said Hopper, taking a seat at the dining table. Less sure, Joyce followed suit. "We're doing this now."

Steve whined, low in your ear. "So were we."

You swatted at his chest and slowly led the way to the table, taking a seat and Steve settled in next to you, chest still bear. He pulled himself close in under the table, leg nudging yours.

The four of you sat in silence.

You watched your mom try to say something, mouth opening like a fly trap and shutting again. "Um... is everything ok?" you asked, sensing Steve's un-ease.

"If it's about... about this," said Steve gesturing between you. "Y/n was just cold, I gave her my shirt."

It was a lame excuse and if you weren't so in love with him you'd have been seething.

"And the cushion in your lap?" asked Hopper. Always serious, never giving away his true thoughts. Unless all his thoughts were just that serious.

Joyce stopped him, a hand out. "It is- it is about this. Or about you- the both of you," she said.

"Okay."

Your mom was silent, thinking. "Look, we- I'm glad the both of you are happy and I know you're at that stage that young people get to where feelings and emotions- needs, run high."

You stilled, surely hoping this was not going where you thought.

Steve's hand grabbed your knee like he was about to be delivered the worst news ever.

"And I trust you, the both of you completely, but trust doesn't mean mistakes can't be made when... when..." it was like your mom to try to find the easy way to say things, to be like a friend than a mom. To have a heart to heart.

It was not in that nature for Hopper.

"The two of you are having sex!" he announced. "You are! Probably a lot, if seeing you two at family video today was anything to go by."

"Hopper-" Joyce scolded.

"I- I can explain," Said Steve, quickly.

"There's no need," said Joyce, kindly.

"No, there isn't, but we have to know that the two of you are being responsible in the bedroom and being safe. Taking those precautions to stop any un-wanted... surprises." Once done, he sighed with relief, apparently happy to get it off his chest.

This was the craziest way of going about 'the talk' you'd ever known.

Steve looked to you, un-sure how to proceed. You were just the same.

You leant over. "Just to be clear, the two of you are asking us if we're using condoms?"

"Or any other form of protection. It's not just condoms, you know," said your mom.

"I know," you said. "And you're asking us this after a year of dating?"

"Year and four months," corrected Steve under his breath.

"It's better to ask now then have a grandkid later," said Hopper.

You threw your arms out on the table. "Yes, we're being careful, aren't we?" you nudged Steve to say something useful.

"Yeah! Yeah! Totally safe!"

The two of you were. Both of you were clean and loyal only to each other.

"Good!" announced Joyce. "That's great. That's totally great. And you know, honey. If there is anything you need or want to talk about, I am right here. Both of you."

Your smile was still awkward. "Thanks, mom."

The four of you sat there, all nodding in understanding.

"So, we can- we can go now?" you asked, for Steve's sake as you felt his finger grip your need. Poor guy was still hiding behind a cushion.

"Yes! Yes of course," said Joyce. "You know I am so glad we got to do this."

"Yes, yes," you chuckled dryly as you and Steve both pushed yourself up. "So am I." You were not.

"Thank you for being so kind and considerate, Mrs Byers. Hopper," said Steve.

Joyce stood up, rubbing her hands on her jeans. "My pleasure," she smiled, almost happy to see the two of you walk off to obviously do it. "And remember, condoms in the cupboard in the bathroom!"

You pushed Steve into your room, hiding him away as you lingered in the door way. "Thank you, Mom, for everything."

The door closed behind you as you laid on it.

"Oh my god, Oh my god, that was so bad," said Steve, pacing. The cushion was abandoned on the floor, his dick still straining in his jeans. "I'll never be able to look your mom in the eyes, or Hopper. Geez, he's gonna kill me."

You laughed to yourself. It was funny really. You and Steve were always safe, sure you wanted kids but in your own house when there might have been a golden band on your finger.

Steve turned to you. "Oh, this is funny?"

"Kind of," you admitted. "Oh come on, it was."

"Not to me! Did you see the way Hopper was looking at me? I think my grave's already buried."

You rolled your eyes and headed over to him, peeling off his shirt.

Steve fell silent as his eyes fell to your chest.