Half an hour. Yeah, that's perfect. I'll make sure to get down there before she has time to get too comfortable with the interrogation portion of catching up. Just please try to keep in mind that I have never and will never be able to stop her from being well her.
[ because she would not put it past her mother to only stick to the safe smalltalk for maybe five minutes before getting right to asking if he's seeing anyone newww? or if he's figured out what he wants his future to look like, or if his mother finally kicked his father to the curb yet, or- any number of personal things she doesn't already know about him, yeah. because obviously if he and nancy are in a bring-over-hangover-remedies type of place, then karen gets to resume her position as a mildly-invasive-but-intensely-supportive-mother-figure. ...and if she doesn't go for the personal questions route, the only other way she can imagine her trying to pass the time would be to remark about how grown up he is now. which- nope. no. not even going to go there. she just knows that if she walks into the kitchen and karen is gripping his bicep or immediately turning to give her some kind of look behind his back, she'll absolutely lose her mind.
and she also knows in her soul that if she tries to ask her to just, y'know, not be weird? it would increase her lack of chill tenfold. so. she's just going to roll the dice and hope for the best. because yeah, she did actually mean it when she said it's nothing he can't handle, but that doesn't mean he should have to handle any of it. although a plate of her perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs might make up for the embarrassment. maybe. if her stomach decides to cooperate this time. ]
Kind of the opposite, actually. He's recently entered a phase that keeps him locked in his room pretending that we don't exist. So, quiet reruns are definitely an option.
( even though Karen is intense. and occasionally asks things that are a little too personal. Steve only has one other kind of mother to compare her to, and while he loves his mom — he wishes she would care about what he's doing or who he's seeing. it took his mom six months to figure out the girlfriend he kept talking about was the same girl.
he doesn't especially want to talk to Karen Wheeler about his nonexistent love life, but, if that is the cost of breakfast and getting Nancy her Gatorade, he will take one for the team. )
But feel free to save me if she decides to start coaching me on college applications, it would just waste her time. ( one wheeler losing daylight on the impossibility of Steve Harrington in higher education is probably enough strain on the universe. does that sound appropriately devil may care, like he doesn't care that he's too dumb to go to college? uh. hopefully!!! let's move this along! ) Yeah, he's been kinda a dickhead lately, huh? ( Steve drives Dustin to the arcade and his mom even pays a little, for him to keep him company on Saturday's when she's out with her Knitting club. seeing all of the party is inevitable when seeing Dustin. and Mike has definitely navigated securely into dour, dismissive teenager focused on his own drama.
which Steve was, once, so he figures he'll grow out of it eventually. )
Hard to be a world away from the girl you love, I guess. ( y ee s h, maybe he should not have said that. since Nancy is a girl that is loved with a boy a world away. Steve doesn't know how they do it. their phone bill must be astronomical with all the calls to California. )
Oh, no, don't worry, you're definitely off the hook there. If college comes up in any context, I can promise you that she'll immediately make it a discussion about trying to convince me to pick a school that's more local. Unless she's in her rare "I'm so proud of you for following your dreams" mood. But there's no way of knowing until it comes up.
[ and then there's.... the rest of that, yep. a while ago it wouldn't be such a ..topic, but as it stands now? while mike and eleven started writing letters back and forth to each other nearly every week ( once their parents starting hounding them about the phone bill, yeah ), she and jonathan... didn't. they just started talking less often. pulling away, that's how she put it to robin, wasn't it? sort of literally, in the case of jonathan bailing on spring break at the last minute. which is still fresh because it's still spring break. and maybe if she was texting robin right now, she would make a snarky-but-ultimately-kinda-sad comment on the matter, but she's talking to steve and she's very aware of how selfish it would be to babble through her frustration to him. even if she really does need to get it out of her system somehow, eventually, since jonathan won't just talk to her-!
anyway. there's a short delay in nancy's response time, but it's ( hopefully ) not too long. not a noteworthy pause at all! ]
Mike is definitely feeling the strain of not having his girlfriend or his best friend around anymore. And he genuinely misses them both, obviously, but I think part of it is because they both put up with his shit way more than Lucas and Dustin do. I'm just glad my parents didn't make him cancel his trip once they found out that Jonathan did. Especially now, with everything that's going on. They're all safer in California.
[ probably. ]
But hey, if you're going to be here in thirty minutes, I really need to go so I can attempt brushing my teeth again, at the very least. I'm willing to swallow my pride about my bedhead, but I'm pretty sure my morning breath is lethal right now. It's for your own good.
I'm glad to be off the hook. And intrigued to watch the tennis match about your college prospects, though, maybe the hangover means you can be off the hook too.
( and if giving Karen the bambi boy eyes and hinting they were really hoping to catch some A-Team reruns before he has to split for work, well... Steve happens to know Karen is susceptible to the bambi boy eyes. Nancy may or may not believe in his charms these days, but they exist!! and they work on moms!!!! )
Yeah. He's gotta remember he's not the only guy with problems. ( Dustin lost Eddie, and Lucas is dealing with all the stuff with Max. it's not that it doesn't suck that his girlfriend and best friend are back on the West Coast, it's just... damn, Mike, leave some room for the emotions of everyone else. that's a kid thing, Steve supposes, only seeing their own little bubble. thinking their hand is the worst hand that had ever been dealt. that said, all of the D&D crew are on a hair trigger, that doesn't help them be patient with each other.
and, uh, could his brain just. not. fixate on how Nancy just insisted she had to have better breath by the time he gets there?? damn, friends can have nice breath for each other too, asshole!! it is not the time to wonder whether Nancy still uses cinnamon mouthwash! !!! ! )
Wow. You'd do that for me? I'm touched. Okay, okay. I'll leave you alone. For a bit. You promised you'd save me from your mom before she got all the way to the third degree, I'm holding you to that.
I'm pretty safe from her striking up much of any kind of conversation with me for the next few hours, at least. She'll probably even start whispering once I come downstairs. I know I should probably feel a little bad that she really does think the hangover is her fault, but I'm not to tell her that no, mom, it's my fault, because I decided to spend another hour or so nearly finishing off the rest of the bottle.
[ nancy ( luckily, for her own sake ) didn't actually put together that worrying about her breath could be taken in a different way than she intended it. it's really only because she's very sure that if she left her breath in the state it is now, all it would take is a simple "hello" in steve's direction and he might actually never want to hang out again. it's that bad. and that would suck! since they only just got back into each others lives and all. so.
... also yes she does still use cinnamon mouthwash. not that it matters. ahem. ]
I will, I will. I'll be there, I promise. See you soon.
( Steve ripped apart a demon bat with his teeth, he can forgive some skank breath after that. maybe it would even help him stop thinking inappropriate things about his still taken ex! )
[ admittedly, nancy probably shouldn't have waited a full ten minutes before actually getting up to attempt to brush her teeth and all the other necessary things she needed to do to become semi-human again in the face of this hangover, but she just needed a moment to reread their messages. and then a longer moment to contemplate whether or not she might actually be a glutton for punishment. and then an even longer moment to convince her brain stop pounding in her ears. or maybe it's actually her eardrums that are doing the pounding against her brain. or both. it's both. so yeah, it does take her about ten minutes to realize she can't will away her headache, and convince herself she can survive until steve gets there with her gatorade. and the fast-acting tylenol. which she's almost positive her parents keep a bottle of in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom next to their bedroom, but she doesn't have the energy to go look. or the heart to go look either, honestly. it's just- the fact that he thought to bring it is really sweet? it's thoughtful. so she's fine with just gulping down water until he gets to the house. she can handle the wait.
she at least remembers to text her mom - "steve's coming over for a little while. i'll be down soon but could you let him in when he gets here?" ... "he offered to bring me a gatorade because i told him i'm not feeling great. and i don't know, we're probably just going to watch tv or something." ... "stop!! i'm taking back the 'or something'." ... "absolutely not, and please consider this me actually begging you not to even hint at whatever it is you think you know." ... "can we talk about this later, please???" - before tossing her phone on the bed, then slowly make her way back to the same bathroom she spent a little too long in last night, sitting on the edge of the tub while rapid-fire texting steve harrington and trying to sip water because he asked her to. god.
by the time she hears steve's car pull into the driveway, she's managed to brush and swish, wash her face, wrangle her messy curls into a ponytail, and even put on some deodorant! which is perfect, because that means she has time to get downstairs before he's even knocking on the door, effectively cutting off whatever smalltalk her mother might decide to bring up with him before she gets the chance to even start. but- ]
--shit! [ she's literally not wearing any pants. she's just wearing a slightly baggy t-shirt that she managed to tug on before crashing last night. not ideal for hanging out with your ex, especially in what might technically be their first attempt at the whole... friendship thing. ] shitshitshit.
[ so yeah, she needs to backtrack from the top of the stairs and head back to her room, which adds about five more minutes to the time it takes for her to save him from her mom, but like. it was worth it! she managed to find clean pajamas to change into - loose shorts and a button-up nightshirt, complete with scrunch socks. the kind of matching set jonathan would have teased her about for looking like a member of the brady bunch, for sure, which obviously meant they were totally safe for a totally-friends-only hangout - so she felt much more comfortable by the time she finally made it downstairs.
and if she's caught a little off-guard by the deja vu of walking into her kitchen and feeling a wild flutter of nerves ( or something ) when finds steve harrington talking to her mom, without any sort of anxious tension hanging in the room, like he just- belongs there ( or something!! )?? well, hopefully it wasn't too obvious before she shook it off. she doesn't think it was, at least, because steve had to turn to actually look her way, and her mom didn't make any obvious faces at her, so. phew.
however, karen's voice does drop to something like a stage whisper when she gives her a- ] Heeeey, Nance. Look who's here. [ with a too-cheerful smile and both of her brows lifting into her fully permed bangs. goddamnit, karen. ]
( Steve wouldn't call himself a prompt guy, just one that can be there when it matters. he makes it to Robin's house every morning at 7:35, because she likes to get to school early enough to fawn over the redhead she's still crushing hard on. he makes it to work at exactly the time his shift starts, because Family Video does not pay him enough for him to be there early. and he is to the Wheeler residence in exactly half an hour, and not just because he drove a few blocks away immediately after he collected the promised hangover cures and waited in his car until it was reasonable to actually show. it's weird, walking up the driveway. eyeing the vent he'd used to crawl up the garage to Nancy's window. it's not the first time he's been by her house since... everything. of course not.
still manages to feel a bit like going back in time, though.
Karen welcomes him like he had just stopped by yesterday. exclaims how grown up he is now, which is weird, but surely intended as a compliment. he asks reasonable questions about Mike and Holly, because that limits how many questions Karen can lob back in his direction. and she even makes him toast to go with his undeserved eggs. it should feel weird, how familiar it all feels. he's even laughing at a story about Holly's first Christmas Concert and sucking what's left of buttered toast off his fingers when Karen announces Nancy's arrival, and Steve turns to greet her as bid.
Steve starts at her head, to be fair. she looks tired, which isn't a surprise, considering how much she must have put back to blow up his phone with what has to have been every nice thing he ever did in their relationship. curly hair forcefully restrained, cheeks a little pink, like she scrubbed her entire face instead of just her teeth. in a cute little nightgown, that matches — Steve only realizes that his eyes ran down the entire length of her legs by the time he sees her bunched up socks. shit. abort! ABORT! his eyes are back on her face. pointedly. on her face. much better. )
Hi, Nance, ( Steve echoes, offering a slight tilt of a smile. it's not weird unless they make it weird, so he is determined for this to be as normal as possible. he uses his big brown bambi pout to get breakfast from Robin's mother, too, so this is fair game. he straightens from where he was leaning against he counter, making a point to claim his own plate before Karen can swoop in and clean it up for him. ) I put the Gatorade in the fridge, your mom insisted.
( Karen immediately launches into a spiel about how cold drinks always help when she's feeling under the weather. Steve is putting his plate in the sink, he can't prove there's a conspiratorial wink about implying Nancy's hangover is an actual cold. he feels like there was one, though. that makes him smile too, the warm motherly buzzing of holding onto her daughter's secrets, even in knowing company. he's always liked Karen and that is one thing that seems to have not changed in the two years since he was last welcome in the Wheeler kitchen around breakfast time. and, considering how many times Nancy warned him about her mother, he figures as a friend he will provide her an easy exit strategy. ) You think you still have time to watch some of that show you were telling me about before I gotta jet for work?
[ it's somehow becoming all too easy to fall back into the old habit of using steve's energy to ground her own, the way she was able to when they were dating. because it was intimidating sometimes, being the girlfriend of quite literally the most popular guy in school, and even if it wasn't something she actively thought about in private, sometimes in the moment she could feel her shoulders drawing up with tension, too aware of the number of eyes on them. but whether steve was used to it, or really was just above it at that point, that attention never seemed to get to him like that. and usually all it took was the way he'd brace his hand at the small of her back, or smooth up between her shoulder blades, or he'd just give her a look, like the kind of smile that made his eyes crinkle ( the kind that made it obvious he wasn't paying all that much attention to the people around them, just her ), and she'd be able to find her footing again. so he gives her that half-smile and those wild nerves simmer down into something a little warmer, and she realizes belatedly that her brow must have been drawn in a bit just a second ago, because she can feel her expression relax into a smile and wow, okay, apparently she can't- not smile back at steve now?? again?? that's just- okay. okay. she's obviously just too in her head right now ( ... more than usual ), and luckily for him, she's too focused on shoving all the mental clutter that just invaded her brain to the backburner to notice the full extent of him looking her over.
she only really clues back in in time to notice him looking from her knees down to her socks, then back up to her face. so... yeah, of course she's going to drop her gaze down to her socks for a second, toes curling. were socks a weird choice? is that the weird part of all this? she figured slippers would've been the weird choice-
anyway. ]
Oh! Umm. Perfect. Thhhanks, Mom.
[ if she sounds both amused and mildly suspicious, it's only because she doesn't totally realize that that's a notable thing, because warm gatorade might actually only make her feel worse ( because of COURSE it would. gross. ), but she's not about to outwardly question it. well, not verbally. she outwardly questions it in the way she lets her brows do all the talking when she shoots a what are you talking about and why are you saying all these words about gatorade????? look karen's way, in the short moment that steve's facing the sink, right before she mosies over to the fridge to grab that blessed sports drink.
but like, it's fine. steve's out is perfect - ] Yes, totally. I've got all the time in the world to show you- that show. [ and even karen suddenly shoving a small plate of lightly buttered toast with sugar cinnamon sprinkled on top ( to "help with the congestion!" ) doesn't manage to make her feel embarrassed about any of it. especially because they've been through so much fucking worse than dealing with a ridiculous morning moment with her mother. so with a cold gatorade in one hand, and a plate of toasted, sugary carbs in the other, nance looks to steve then tips her head to the side, as if she really thinks he'll actually need to follow her to find his way to the den. as if they hadn't spent an absurd amount of time in what was probably the only space in the house with any sense of privacy, besides her bedroom, which was predictably not where her parents were willing to let them spend so much time together.
not that that's something she's thinking about right now. privacy. who cares about that, right? and to prove she's not concerned with that one way or the other, she finds her way right to the middle of the long couch and makes herself comfortable there, instead of the far end where they wouldn't have been seen from the hallway.
... it genuinely doesn't occur to her that even though it isn't necessarily a small couch, sitting right in the middle like she is doesn't leave much room for steve to like- pick how much space to put between them, once he picks a spot. oops? how can she put much thought into that when she's too busy twisting off the cap of that gatorade so she can take two, three long sips, then shutting her eyes, tipping her head back, and releasing a slow breath as she relaxes into the squashy cushions? ] Yup. Just like I said. Perfect.
[ her head lulls to the side as she peeks an eye open to look at him, her ponytail already coming a little loose ]
So was she totally weird, or did she play it cool? I'm sorry I took so long to get there, either way.
Edited (man there's always gotta be at least ONE typo i catch at the tail end of a tag hours later sheesh) 2022-07-17 18:43 (UTC)
( Steve follows in good time. he doesn't have to scrub the entire dish but he doesn't want to be any extra work, so. maybe if he just. rinses it? and it's not like he doesn't know where he's going. he's strangely content to go about his own business in the buzzing, happy household. Karen is smiling at him in that weird, knowing, mom sort of way when he finally turns off the faucet and thanks her for the breakfast. he's not entirely sure what she's onto him about, but, just in case it might be better to sneak out of her kitchen before she starts asking questions about it.
Nancy is already on the sofa, and there's something nostalgic about her, sitting there. smack dab in the middle. it didn't used to be like that, back in the day they'd take separate corners and eventually he'd sneak a little closer. very obvious moves like stretching and conveniently leaving his arm along the back of the couch behind her. or closing the distance to peer at the book she was reading (because of course Nancy would insist on studying during TV time) or to point out the carefully scribed details on the back of her notecard. and she would smile in that way that meant she knew what he was doing and was completely aware of him sneaking into her space. the way she'd snuggle under his arm or against his side once he managed to get the initiative to hold her.
and then one day, they were just past needing to work up to it. she sat in the middle of the couch, and when he joined her she pointedly slipped in against his side, sometimes before he even reached for her.
so maybe it's a little bittersweet, sitting down next to her. since that cuddly softness is probably not on the table for a newly rekindled friendship. not that cuddling is illegal, or anything. Robin will settle her legs on his lap or lean against his shoulder, sure, it just... Steve doesn't have any clue what that balance looks like with Nancy. probably it shouldn't look exactly like where they used to be, and it is hard not to miss it, just a little.
and honestly he needs to stop looking at her legs!!! for gods sake, he's a fully grown adult. just, did she mean to wear shorts that short to hang out in her den? obviously she did. because she's wearing them. handle it, Harrington! )
Good, ( Steve decides to the Gatorade hitting the spot it was supposed to. ) You sure you don't need the Tylenol? ( that is in his pocket, he didn't forget! not that Karen would really find it weird that he brought headache medication, but it's off the script of them pretending Nancy has a cold, so he didn't mention it. of course, Nancy is on a completely different wavelength, still worried about her Mom being A Lot. and to be fair, Karen is A Lot. just, in a good way, Steve thinks. ) She was fine, Nance, honestly. I'm great with moms. How did you forget this?
( Steve insisted once he was great at making a good impression on Moms, and he proved it not just with Karen, but Mrs. Holland too. hell, he's good with his own mom, when he actually gets to see her. he's great with moms! facts are facts. )
[ oh. it's only once steve sits down next to her that she realizes sitting in the middle of the couch was a Choice on her part, and it wasn't a bad choice, but it was still a Choice. because maybe she didn't actually move in either direction once he sat down, closer to or away from, but some part of her definitely responded to him being there, in a way that signaled that if she was going to move, it should be closer to him, and now was the time - that's our cue. but like, it's not. it's definitely not! but it was, sure, once upon a time. so she can blame her barely stifled muscle memory on that.
but not moving was only half the battle. the other half is trying to pretend that she isn't suddenly very aware that her choice in dorky matching pajamas ( a choice she was very proud of a few minutes ago!! ) is a very stark contrast to the way steve is fully dressed. ..not that she's not! fully dressed. she is. but he's dressed for work. jeans and a polo. and she's wearing a pajama set that she wouldn't actually feel all that comfortable even just running outside to get the mail in, now that she's thinking about it. so.
that's really great.
and the way she picks her head up again, first so she can screw the cap back onto her drink, then to only sort of stare down at their laps for a moment, probably makes it pretty obvious that she's thinking about something, too. although she's pretty sure he's not going to realize she's just slightly panicking over how bare her legs are, next to his denim-clad thighs. hopefully. but she doesn't let it linger too long either way, not when- ]
Oh, no, I definitely need the Tylenol. I was just about to ask you if you brought it. [ if it sounds like she's talking about a drug way more hardcore than tylenol, it's only because the thought of skipping it seemed to actually make her skull rebel harder, for just a second. enough so that any worry about her clothes seems to get tossed out the window for now, as she turns to face him ( not completely! it was a 45 degree angle adjustment, at most. ... but it was enough that her knee bumped his thigh once she settled that way. that's probably worth noting. ), then holds her hand out flat between them, palm up. ] I'll take three, please, if you don't mind. [ she would probably look more mischievous about the fact that she just asked for one more than the recommended two gelcap dose, because that's just not something nancy wheeler ever did in the past ( she might've scolded steve for doing so, even after a tough game ), but yeah. it's a little bit undercut by the fact that it's a slightly pained mischievous look. later on she'll realize she shouldn't have looked steve dead in the eyes while she asked for those three pills, just because there's really no hiding just how hungover she really is from this close. her eyes are red, she knows, she can feel how dry they are. and she's kind of squinting, or wincing, because daylight is still a little too bright, even through the curtains in the den. and they all seem to have permanent dark circles under their eyes at this point ( thanks, nightmares ), but she knows hers are way worse than usual right now. and her hair also found a way to be both greasy and frizzy at the same time today, too! her messy ponytail doesn't hide that.
but at least her breath doesn't smell???? ]
... And I didn't forget. I was just worried that maybe you forgot just how much you already charmed her. I mean, you should have seen her face when I told her you were stopping by. She really missed- you. [ a beat ] --That was a totally weird thing to say, wasn't it? You don't even have to say it, I know it was. God. [ she laughs, sighs ] But it's true.
( look, if he had the luxury of wearing pajamas, or at least sweatpants, trust that he would have. honestly, Steve contemplated calling in, before he immediately talked himself out of it. he's supposed to open today, and if he doesn't then Robin has to. it makes more sense for him to do it; Robin still has school outside of the town falling to pieces and the world nearly ending a few couple weeks ago. Steve doesn't have anything else to do and sometimes getting into the swing of normality helps him keep his head on straight. which he feels guilty about, on occasion. if it is bullshit to turn his brain off and make small talk with old ladies about the best Tom Selleck movie, then he's still at least a little bit bullshit. because it makes him feel better. at least it keeps him busy.
besides, calling in to chill out with his ex-turned-friend-again is just. too intense. plus, Robin would know, and ask him all sorts of questions, and he just... he can't handle Robin obsessing about this right now. she means well, really, it's just that Steve doesn't need any help obsessing about Nancy, he's good enough at it all on his own. once he figures out the balance of this again, once it feels less weird (it feels weird, not wrong)... then he'll mention things to Robin. that they're hanging out again.
that Nancy agrees she wants the Tylenol — which is kind of ridiculous to have brought in the first place. she has to have at least three different pain killers in her medicine cabinet — a smile pulls at his face, almost despite himself. it feels better, to be able to help. and it's nice to have someone willing to let him. Robin will grumble and kick her feet but she knows that his mom friend habits are almost like a security blanket. Steve likes to look after someone. and when Nancy is as fiercely independent as she is, it is nice when she extends the olive branch to let him do things for her when she doesn't have to.
it does mean he has to shift slightly over her lap, fishing them out of entirely too-tight jeans. he doles out her active-release fix, and if Nancy is insecure about looking him in the eye, she doesn't really have to be. he doesn't expect her to have it all together right now. do any of them have it all together? he may not be hungover, but fuck, he's tired. he can never sleep after these episodes of the world nearly ending, alone in an empty house. memories catching up whenever he tries to lay down and shut his brain off. eventually he just gives up trying, goes to the gym, goes on a run, goes out for a pack of smokes, goes to get pancakes at 3am.
Steve doesn't see anything he isn't expecting to see. just Nancy. beautiful, tired, strong, weighed down by more than anyone should be and yet no real escape from it, either. some things never change — hoping he can split the load with her, even for a little while, is the only thing her weary, light sensitive appearance inspires. )
A little weird, ( Steve agrees with a laugh, mostly because he cannot fathom why they are still talking about Nancy's mom. still, not the worst feeling in the world, to be missed. ) I think she hates having leftovers, none of that shit on my watch. I'm like a human garbage disposal. Plus she just wants to talk about her kids, and actually, I really get that. ( Steve, as a single mother, also loves to talk about his kids. it's just they're all 14, and don't belong to him. ) There anything you wanna watch? Otherwise we can catch Looney Toons or something, I'm not above Looney Toons.
[ karen's just! a very easy topic to fall back to. and she always was. nancy still isn't totally sure of exactly how much her mom knew about steve's parents - besides the vague things that she told her herself, and whatever non-personal reputation the harrington name had in hawkins - but because karen is karen, they sort of... bypassed any potentially awkward scenarios on the subject. maybe it was some kind of mother's intuition, but she learned to skip the parent related questions fairly early on. she didn't fuss over him the same way she could fuss over mike's friends at times, but she really nailed those not-so-little thoughtful gestures during the time steve and nancy were dating, yeah. so. karen wheeler is a comfortable topic because she made herself a comfortable topic, and nancy's not above falling back on that when necessary. go, mom, go.
although it's actually not all that necessary, she's realizing fairly quickly, because even fully acknowledging the fact that this is sort of... uncharted territory for them, it doesn't feel weird. or wrong. not even moderately iffy. and it's very possible that the literal earth-shattering event that happened just a few weeks ago ( along with everything that lead up to it ) is the reason why this doesn't seem like the hugest deal, now that it's actually happening, but. like. she's pretty sure narrowly dodging the immediate end of the world wouldn't cancel out a truly bad feeling, if they were actually... doing something. bad. right? yeah. it's just-!
it actually feels a lot more normal than she ever would have expected it to. down to the fact that steve still has the best/worst timing of saying something like none of that shit on my watch. i'm like a garbage disposal, right after nancy takes a giant sip of gatorade to wash down those pills. she doesn't choke, by her eyes do widen as she presses the back of her hand to her mouth, huffing a laugh once she knows there's no chance she's about to burp or anything totally embarrassing. ]
Oh, yeah. I'm sure all she's thinking about right now is how grateful she is for every square inch of saran wrap that was saved from being used today, thanks to you. [ said with a nod and a quiet reverence to her tone, one that is... completely undermined by the way the corners of her mouth are quirked up. she turns to settle back against the couch properly again, a very lazy slouch taking the place of her usual perfect posture. she's becoming one with the couch, because couches don't get hangovers. and if steve happens to catch the small gasp( ! the quick inhale through her nose kind ) before she reaches to pick up one of her slices of sugary toast off the plate she left on the couch beside her- no, he didn't. she definitely didn't forget it was there and get excited all over again once she rediscovered it. nope. she'll take full ownership over the happy hum she makes after her second bite, though. especially because she follows it up with a third pretty quickly. obviously her stomach's decided to cooperate now. praise be. ]
Mm! mmwait, y'know what? [ she tilts her head to nearly a full 90 degrees before just taking it upon herself to turn steve's hand that way, so she can read his watch. and apparently she's happy with the time, because she gives the heel of his hand a squeeze then scoots to the edge of the couch just so she can reach the remote from where it's sitting on the coffee table in front of them. ] Alvin's on. [ there's really no shame in this particular guilty pleasure, not when steve was around when she first discovered it, and she's quick to turn on the tv and punch in the right channel, like maybe there's no takebacksies if it's already on the screen before he can protest. ]
she's not ready for the tv to turn on at a slightly-louder-than-appropriate-for-morning-cartoons volume, and it turns out the theme song isn't nearly as charming when her head is already pounding. so yes, that was a noticeable wince and a flinch all in one, and yes, that was a very audible whine of discomfort, and yes, she nearly dropped the remote in her rush to turn the tv off again.
her cheeks are pink by the time she takes another long sip of her gatorade, then huffs a grumpy sigh. "betrayed" is not a strong enough word for the pout that takes over her features, although her dour - ] --screw you, Alvin. [ is followed by another huff, but the kind that's more.. kinda laughing at herself this time, with the way it makes her deflate back into becoming one with the couch. ]
Yeah, I'm a goddamn hero, is what is is. ( saving Karen Wheeler 2¢ of cling wrap at a time. if Karen is listening in on them, she should know how happily Steve will consume the Wheeler leftovers. it's not that he can't cook at all, he was alone a lot when he was a teenager and that's not something that's improved as he got older, he had to learn to fend for himself eventually. it's just that it tastes different when an actual mom cooks it. Steve isn't sure what magical properties moms can bestow to a homecooked dinner, he just knows that even including the dozen things he's mastered (mostly through making them excessively, rather than any innate skill), he's never met a mom that couldn't put something better on the dinner table.
and Steve generally doesn't mind, being the butt of a joke. especially when he's the one that made it. it can let air back into the room, make things a little easier if you have something to laugh about. getting Nancy to nearly choke on her gatorade is a really powerful feeling, actually, because it'd be easy for her to roll her eyes or give him that look, that one that says be serious without any words necessary. instead she's in a good enough mood to try and pointedly not laugh about it. if she wasn't drinking Steve would guess he'd get that smile, the one where Nancy is insisting she thinks he's full of it, but seems to be enjoying that fact.
Steve likes that smile, so, some sister to it, spluttered into gatorade, is just fine with him.
he's aware of Nancy's fondness for singing chipmunks. Steve isn't sure he's fond, but he's fond of Nancy being fond, if that makes any sense at all. he remembers after they were Official, watching Alvin and the Chipmunks in the den was almost their cover. nothing untoward could possibly be happening with Alvin crooning on screen. to be fair, there rarely was. some hand holding. cuddling. some really spicy finger twining, sometimes. and there were a few rare moments when Karen jogged upstairs that Nancy would turn and whisper with feverish urgency, We have five minutes, tops.
and okay then they might have gotten a little untoward, though it was really just two teenagers heavy petting desperately in the few minutes they were allotted without supervision.
there's a nostalgic look on Steve's face as he leans back to watch, not necessarily trying to be ready to deliver a chipmunk singing impression, but also not not trying to be ready. you never know when you'll have the opportunity to serenade Nancy Wheeler in a pitchy voice to make her laugh, and Steve just wants to be ready. but instead, her favorite furry friend betrays her utterly, blaring out of the television louder than Eddie Munson had been playing Master of Puppets. there's nothing really notable or standout about Ted Wheeler besides the fact he listens to TV at the same decibel all other old dudes do, so it is clear who was on the TV last. Steve isn't hungover and he still winces, the three seconds tops that they are both ear blasted.
Steve's expression shifts from nostalgic to trying-not-to-laugh, the corners of his mouth tipping up without his consent. he sits up again immediately, doesn't think about it, just does it — rubs a sympathetic circle on Nancy's back. he pats Dustin on the back, he rubs Robin's back, there's friend precedent for that being fine. right? so who cares, part of being Steve's friend is absolutely letting him dote on you a little. )
Shit, ( Steve admonishes the chipmunk, and oh no his voice gives him away as much as his face, that he's trying not to laugh but still is, on the inside. no, no, it was just... kinda cute?? and kinda funny. it's not his fault that it was kinda funny. Alvin was the asshole, here. ) Here, just... cover your ears, I'll get it. ( he's pretty sure he can mute the set before Alvin deafens them for good, but just in case... smart of Nancy to protect herself. )
[ okay, so, nancy's seriously glad she already had some color in her cheeks from how much those three seconds of loud chipmunk singing really rattled her eardrums and made her visibly wince, because it's just his hand on her back, but. well. she might be more touch-starved than she realized. which is dramatic, because it's absolutely her own doing, but it's so completely true. jonathan is back in hawkins and for all intents and purposes, she doesn't have to be feeling this way. but it's hard to want to be with somebody like that when you know, you know, they've been lying to you, or hiding something. maybe she thinks he'll come clean sooner one he realizes this, ah, dry spell is deliberate. or she could just ask him, point blank, and hear the truth once and for all? maybe? but that still gives him the opportunity to sugarcoat whatever it is, or lie again, or-
whatever. she's not actually thinking about any of that, it's just part of the reason why steve's very neutral, friendly, platonic gesture results in her blush turning a shade darker, and her smile going a little dopey. because apparently! touch-starved or not! she still has a giant weakness for the way steve harrington's hands, broad and warm and aha other things - feel on her body, even through the fabric of her shirt. which is just... god, that is so wrong! and she is such an idiot, just the worst.
she doesn't have it in her to pretend to be offended by his tone, because he can totally laugh at her, she deserves it, even if he doesn't know the full reason why. she even huffs an embarrassed laugh of her own when he offers to fix the volume for her, tells her to cover her ears, because yeah. yes. she'll take that opportunity to hide her face for a minute, sure.
and so her didn't-think-about-it, just-did-it move is to pass him the remote, then tuck her face against his shoulder, and use her other hand to cover her other ear. it's easy, it's simple, they're already sitting so close, so it's a great plan. except his hand is on her back, so when she turns in towards him, there's this split second that his arm is almost around her, and it takes way more will power than it should to not just curl up against his chest. it's that muscle memory again, trying to call her out. it's not her fault. but she doesn't - she sticks to the plan, even if it means she's kind of hugging his arm, and her knee is two seconds away from settling on his thigh, by the time she's turned enough to actually hide her face.
it's fine.
'Kay, I'm ready. [ like this was aLL according to plan!! one ear is pressed to his shoulder, and heer other is quickly covered by her hand. as planned!! ] Do it.
that's not really what Steve meant by cover your ears, but, he's never been a guy to shoot a gift horse in the mouth. maybe, somewhere distantly, some reasonable and stern part of him wants to insist that it is pretty dumb to let himself indulge in proximity with Nancy that will just make him desperate for more. there's only so much more that can be had, here. they haven't talked about his confession in the woods, perhaps both deciding that opening that Pandora's Box is a dangerous game. Steve doesn't want to bring it up and ruin the fact they're in the process of being friends again. Nancy doesn't want to bring it up for... well, maybe the same thing. and that's fine! he's totally cool, being friend-zoned. he's gonna friend the shit out of Nancy Wheeler.
it's just, having her this close, is maybe not the same vibe as when Robin is this close. because Steve still remembers fondly how easily Nancy fits against him, even if it's been years since she has been. until just now. and the reminder is amazing, and tempting, and overwhelming, all at once. because it's only too easy to remember other ways they fit together. Steve is momentarily frozen, trying not think of exactly how many ways. which is. creepy. douchey! he could maybe not think of that, right now! or the fact he can feel the notches of her spine, the line of her bra underneath his palm.
this is fine. she can cover her ears this way. he just needs to be a goddamn adult and deal with it. if he wants to make this friendship work, then he severely needs to not get in his head about Nancy being close. because Steve likes Nancy being close. if this is what their friendship looks like, that's completely cool. because even just being her friend is so much better than not having her in his life at all.
his palm slides down her spine as Steve focuses intensely on punching the necessary buttons. on, then mute, then dialing the volume to a reasonable level, for anyone what wasn't a middle-aged man. and then a few under that, because, that hangover sure seems to be something else, and the active-release hasn't kicked in yet! Nancy seeming to tuck into him a little tighter just means she's anticipating another blaring jolt of noise. nothing to read into, whatsoever.
and then the moment passes. there's no good reason for Nancy to be tucked against his side anymore. Steve curves a hand around her shoulder, which is really the opposite of what he should be doing, if he's letting her go now. oops. ) Good, ( he tells her, and considering how sternly she's protecting her ears, probably the only reason she'll know he said anything is the timber of his voice vibrating from his chest through her cheekbone. )
[ nancy's not totally sure she'd be able to pinpoint why she hasn't brought up what he told her in the upside down. when he thanked her, told her that the change in him was brought on by the way things ended between them, like it was some kind of wakeup call and not something she still felt so- uncertain about. told her that he's learning, crawling forward. and that he had always seen her in his future. and it's just- it's ironic in the cruelest way, that back when he really needed to hear her say something she had said to him dozens of times before, sickly sweet until it... wasn't, she couldn't do it. and then that dumbass kid came running outside to insist he get back in the gym, and it was just long enough of a pause that the words got caught on her tongue then retreated too far back into her mind to be overanalyzed again. she hesitated.
but this time around, when steve basically put it all on the line in a way she could never dream of doing, there was really no expectation, no lingering question that needed an answer. but she did. have one. it was right there, and she had even taken the breath needed to actually tell him, but then
but then robin rushed back to talk to them. and nancy was frustrated, for that split second, because in that split second she spent looking at the ground, then peering back up at steve, the words she wanted to say did the same thing they always do. retreated. and at this point she's sort of convinced herself it was for the best, because part of her was still so sure that eventually robin would babble her way through letting steve know she actually had feelings for him, and that'd be that. and she'd be happy for them, really, even if right at the moment, the thought of it made her feel... something. not jealousy, but maybe jealousy. something like it. which made her a shitty girlfriend, for sure, not to mention a shitty friend, probably, but she's a little out of practice, cut her some slack.
his hand slides down her back and she sighs, relaxes, like maybe she's just feeling more comfortable being this close to him again instead of that "is this okay?" weirdness they've been floating around in since she showed up in the kitchen. but it also makes her realize that at some point her hand made the decision to move too, without her permission, and slid from its spot up on his bicep, down somewhere closer to the bend of his elbow. which- yeah. um. yeah. that was a mistake. snapping out of her train of thought right in time to clock how his arm felt under her fingertips was a mistake.
she's starting to doubt if she's actually capable of friending the shit out of steve harrington. which does make her curl up against him a little tighter, for just a second, because if she can't be his friend then where the hell does that leave them? or leave her, really.
there's no way he actually knows that she's trying to figure all this out while he makes sure alvin and the chipmunks are more hangover friendly, but his hand moves to her shoulder and she just- she has to figure this out. she has to. she also needs to stop holding onto steve like she's afraid he'll disappear any second now. yeah. yes. she's doing that now. that's a thing she's doing.
although she fucks it up, like really, royally fucks it all up, because instead of just turning back around and pulling herself out of his hold the way she managed to do after that earthquake in the upside down brought them close ( too close ), and holding on tight, she just
sits up straight.
which brings them eye to eye, almost, and his face is so close ( too close ), the kind of close that always used to make her feel the need to insist that his eyes aren't just brown, that there's some green in them, before closing that last little bit of space between them before he could say something about her eyes that would turn her into a blushing mess, and- okay, okay, okay, okay.
okay. okay!
( for the record, if her expression shifts to that one the makes her eyes too wide, like she's pleading for something, something like do it, please. make the decision for me. for just a split second- no, it didn't. ) ]
Thanks.
[ she smiles, feeling a mild, ridiculous sense of deja vu, before releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. and thanking her past self for pulling herself together enough to brush her damn teeth. shit. okay. okay, okay. she slowly unwinds herself from him, turning to face the tv again, even scooting a little bit towards the edge of the couch, like that puts all that much space between them. and then she's just- going to chug some gatorade, apparently. so much gatorade. and it has nothing to do with not wanting to give herself a second to blurt out something really stupid. ]
( he noticed her hand migrating, yeah. it just so happens that there's probably not any way Nancy can touch him that doesn't feel at least a little bit electric. that was never their problem, it's not like they were ever lacking the pull that made it so easy to fall into things, hot and heavy. maybe they were a little too magnetic. forces pulling too hard. maybe it was inevitable that something would go sideways when they let themselves indulge in it. Steve has never been any good at seeing beyond Nancy. he's ... he's still not good at it, honestly. it's a little terrifying how fast things can rush back in, after he'd been so sure that he was over her not a year ago.
a stint at the end of the world, late night texting and D&D lessons, sitting a little too close on the sofa, and that's it. he's a straight goner all over again. or he always was gone? maybe he always will be a little bit lost on Nancy Wheeler. it might just be his lot in life, to always be a little bit in love with his first love. Steve can't look at it and regret too much, besides the fact that he wasn't ready when she needed him to be. that their watches weren't synchronized and somewhere along the line they just... missed each other.
it's okay. it's okay that's not where they are anymore. Steve can accept it. he thought, for the longest, just staying clear of Nancy as she lived her life and he lived his was the best for both of them. Steve isn't so sure, anymore. it'd be a lie to say being close to her doesn't make him wistful for things. of course it does. he's only human. but he's a human with some modicum of self control, actually. still carrying a torch for her doesn't mean they have to give up on being around each other. he can't help how he feels about her but it's not the only thing in his life, the only part of what brings them together. not anymore.
if Nancy is on the ropes, unsure where the lines should be in a friendship with her ex — well, Steve can articulate what he's comfortable with, and she can meet him somewhere in the middle. she shifts slightly away, hammers through her gatorade like she's hoping it might be laced with something stronger than electrolytes. and Steve could sure let that happen, take that as the expectation. but he has a bad precedent for this, too. Nancy pulls back and he pushes back in, because he knows she doesn't actually want the distance. if she thinks she has to back off to try and keep him from reading into things, well, Steve refuses to let her think he needs or even prefers distance. because it's true, fuck the "is this okay?" weirdness. the answer is always yes. whatever Nancy needs or whats from him, it's always, always gonna be yes.
so Steve shifts back across the space she put in, nudges her with a shoulder. ) Okay, tiger, you don't have to kill that in one sitting. ( he lifts his eyebrows, a quirk of a smile on his face. they're back to a little too close, and he only thinks a moment how pressing into her space used to be so she could stop making excuses about not kissing him and get to it already. how easy it'd be to do it now. it's just a blink of a thought, because knowing how much he likes to kiss her is a hard thought to entirely dodge when they're this close, looking each other in the eye. instead of that, they can do... friendly. companion-y. and that's still good. yeah. it's good.
Steve leans back against the couch, arm propping up over the back of it, and attention shifting to Alvin. giving Nancy the space to shift properly to the far side of the couch, to distance, if that's what she wants — or. to not do that. to just lean back and enjoy the company and closeness, because Steve wants that at least as much as she does. he's not gonna make a move, there's no intentions here besides nursing off Nancy's hangover and just. comfort. friends can do that. they can do that. it's nothing to get in their heads about. Steve's natural blustering confidence, fake it til you make it, in action. )
[ she feels him shift and she knows he's going to move right back into her space, she knows because that's just what he does. or... did, rather. still does, turns out. but even knowing doesn't prepare her for when he actually does it, because it still makes her sit up straighter, like she's standing her ground instead of swaying in closer to him or sliding away to maintain that space. like she still has a silly point to prove, that she can hold her own in the flirtatious push/pull they fell into almost right away. but it does actually take her a moment to look over at him, because she needed to direct her smile at her lap, because she could feel that it was more pleased than amused, and there's a very important difference between those two types of smiles. it doesn't matter that he probably still saw that smile there, despite her efforts to hide it away, all that matters is that she tried.
he nudges her shoulder and she nudges his right back, aims the best "ha ha ha, very funny" look that she can muster his way. although it doesn't hold up as long as it should, ends up losing some oomph once he smiles. because her eyes drop too quickly to look, then take a second longer than they should to find his again, but he's moving out of her space to settle back against he couch properly before she even gets the chance to feel sheepish about it. she turns to look at him but ends up tucking her face against her shoulder for a moment, because she knows an invitation when she sees one, and trying to decide if she should accept it ( should, not wants to, because she definitely wants to and that's part of the problem ) isn't as easy a decision as she thinks it should be.
she knows that this isn't as complicated as she's making it out to be, but it's tough for her not to get in her head about it when steve seems to be handling this with way more maturity than she is. and she'd argue that it's because she's hungover as hell and he's not, but it's not really that. so she's caught right down the middle about how she feels about it, because on the one hand, she's grateful that he's taking the lead on things right now, impressed by it, even ( which feels rude to think, in this case, but it's true ) and a little surprised? in a way that reminds her she really needs to quit underestimating how much he's grown up in the last couple years. but on the other hand, it makes her feel almost... anxious? yeah. because maybe she's still worried about fucking this up. they talked about it somewhat, in those texts, but still.
she's selfish, doesn't he remember that? and she's impulsive, and indecisive, and has all these walls ( that she's realizing, in real time, haven't actually gone anywhere since the moment she first started to build them up, back when barb disappeared and it became clear that people didn't care, and have only gotten taller over time. walls to keep her feelings locked up, to keep her from getting too overwhelmed with grief or disappointment to keep moving forward. walls that protected her from letting the misogyny thrown her way by her shitty coworkers at the hawkins post break her spirit, and walls that continue to protect her from being with someone that tends to give her pushback, and make her doubt herself, when all she ever asks for is support. not help, not permission, just support. which, hah, isn't that the opposite of how your partner is supposed to make you feel? shouldn't he, y'know, help you learn how to deal with the things that made you build those walls in the first place, so you can learn to take them down? hm. oh. yeah. that's- a thing, but not a thing she's going to dissect right now, nope. ), and about a hundred other flaws, so how and why the hell is he opening himself up to her again like this?
... in a friendship way, yeah. even in that way. because even that is just-! it's-! and he-! he's an idiot, obviously.
an idiot that looks really cozy, at the moment.
damnit.
she reaches out to put her bottle down on the coffee table in front of them, then braces a hand on the cushion so she can scoot her butt back to sit beside him. she doesn't settle as hip-to-hip with him as they were before, but only because she will be sinking down low into the cushion enough to use his arm as a pillow, absolutely. she even takes the time to push her messy, poor excuse for a bun up a little higher before getting comfortable, so it does't dig into his arm. it also means her tragically unkept permed curls are kind of all over the place, but whatever. she's comfortable. she's surprisingly comfortable with this closeness, too. she could still tuck in that little bit closer to him if she wanted to, the option is right there, but... this is better, probably. for now.
the cartoon lighting up her tv ends up being a better wingman ( to her self control!!! ) than she was expecting, because it is still a favorite of hers, turns out. they're quiet as they watch for a bit, and it doesn't feel uncomfortable, but maybe she doesn't have it in her to just sit and relax quietly right now. she's been doing enough of that on her own lately. ]
I used to tell Dustin I thought he was just like Theodore, partly because it was true, but mostly because his face would turn so red, because he knew I meant it in a good way. [ she tips her head to look his way, pauses for a second so she can tip her head back to blow a stray curl out of her face ] But- He's Simon now, isn't he? He's totally Simon. So I guess that makes youuu... [ she tries to look contemplative, very serious, but her smile keeps interrupting ] Dave? [ the grumpy father figure that was currently bellowing the name of the biggest troublemaker of the three chipmunks, as he so often does, yes. her pause only lasts a couple seconds. ] Or! Or Alvin, you could still be Alvin. Totally.
( probably, he is being an idiot. Steve Harrington going full dumbass for Nancy Wheeler is his toxic trait. he just can't help it. back in junior year, it'd been lower stakes. Nancy was a serious girl, fixated on grades, intensely concerned about maintaining the expectations she'd made for herself. which was good. great. but it was choking, constricting, exhausting. she didn't leave any room for herself to just be a teenage girl. if being a little goofy could get her to laugh, to forget about her notecards and make out a little, sing along to the radio in his car — it was worth looking a little stupid. the smile he got after was worth the slight cool cred he sacrificed, when he could convince her to come out of her shell for just a little while.
and that was before Nancy had her best friend devoured by a demogorgon. before she'd had to set a trap for a monster because nobody else believed her (him included). before the seedy, ugly, terrifying unknown opened reared its ugly head and threatened everything she had ever known. before the Mindflayer, before participating in an Upside Down exorcism, before Vecna had targeted another of her friends, before they'd looked all looked death in the face and survived, but maybe not entirely succeeded. it's so much harder, now, to draw Nancy out of herself. to make her smile, to make her laugh, to pull her away from the everything none of them could possibly forget, even if they wanted to.
so, maybe it's stupid. to open himself up to it, again. when it'd been so devastating when she'd pulled herself away the last time. Steve doesn't think it's stupid, if it counts for anything. if he still has the power to make Nancy try to hide a laugh in a limited quirk of a smile, to lean back against the sofa and watch Alvin and the Chipmunks when everything seems to be falling apart around them — then it's worth it. maybe eventually she'll pull away again, there's a risk of that. but Steve thinks it'd be different, this time. he let her go last time around. Steve isn't sure he can do that twice. maybe it'd have been different, if he tried to hold on. tried to talk, explain, understand, anything.
if it comes it that, it comes to that. but Steve thinks they're old enough to avoid the same mistakes. they've been through too much to just lose each other again, not when they don't have to. they've lost enough in that final sort of way to give up on something they can actually save.
his hand curves slightly around Nancy's shoulder, thumb running the line of her collarbone over the fabric of her pajamas. it's weird how easily he can find it, still knows how she feels under his fingertips. ) I'm a Dave. Yeah. Shouting for troublemakers to get their act together and trudging after them to try and manage the mess as they ignore me? Yeah, I'm Dave, for sure Dave. ( it's something he's grown to accept. it's nice to have a Dave around, sometimes, even if he's a shouty killjoy. you need a Dave, imagine the trouble the Chipmunks would get up to if Dave wasn't there to try and run damage control.
but since Nancy herself gave him the opening, you gotta know that Steve wasn't mentally preparing for a Chipmunk Solo not to unleash it on her. ) What makes me an Alvin? It's the voice, right? Whoooaaaa, for the longest time.( Steve's at least mildly cognizant of the hangover, and keeps his squeaky solo at a more reasonable decibel than whatever Ted Wheeler was watching the news at. but it's just as ridiculous, even quiet. ) Alvin wishes. He's totally pitchy.
[ shit, she still has a lot of work to do, when it comes to getting the whole muscle memory thing under control. it's absurd that the way his thumb is tracing over her collarbone makes about four different couch-specific cuddling options come to mind, and very nearly makes her shift closer to him without even thinking about it, just completely obliterate those pathetic few inches between her hip being right up against his. she catches herself before it happens, but it's remarkably good timing that steve happens to be agreeing with her bestowing the role of dave upon him ( just adding that to the list of things she never would have expected steve to do, yep ), because the way it makes a smile quirk up the corner of her mouth is incredibly similar to the way she smiles in spite of herself anytime she catches herself before letting an impulse win out.
although the way she smiles at steve's self assessment is a little softer around the edges, for sure. is she even aware of the fact that there's a new addition to her rolodex of expressions? no. it's really just an extension of her steve-just-being-steve smile, but... it's different. a different type of admiration. one she usually manages to hold off until he can't actually see it there, but. well. not so much this time.
luckily! steve bails her out yet again by surprising her in a way that makes her laugh, the kind that has her face scrunching up ( and reminds her of the dull throb that her painkillers are still valiantly trying to fight off, but she won't hold that against him at all ) before she looks down and brings her hand up to rub along her bottom lip, like she needs to reel herself in. a habit she still hasn't managed to break. it's quick though, like maybe she thought she felt something on her face, and then right she's back to looking up at him, just with a smile that's a little more sobered.
of course, looking up at him again makes her realize that she's closer to him now, in a way that feels like she's much closer, but she's technically not. it's just those last pathetic few inches, that's all. but like, her hip is against his, and her head is definitely closer to his shoulder than his elbow now. which is something she very deliberately decided to maintain, only, what thirty seconds ago??? when the-? HOW? okay, it's official. she needs to find a self help book on self control or conquering impulses. clearly!!! also maybe a book on sticking to her guns, too, because even once she realizes the way she's tucked closer to him, she doesn't make any attempt at regaining that small space back. she's focused on more important things. ]
Leave Alvin alone, he's not pitchy. He's- That's just his voice. He's trying his best. [ that is not her quiet flirting voice, for anyone that's clocking her big dumb choices. it's her quiet.. quiet voice. it's just a quiet, defensive voice, okay? perfectly appropriate when sticking up for her favorite chipmunks. ] And I only said it because I was trying to be nice, but I take it back. You're definitely a Dave. [ a beat, and she's smiling again, her not-smile smile ] But at least he recognizes Alvin's talent.
He is pitchy. He has the worlds tiniest voice, and it's still pitchy. ( apparently, Steve is not at all impressed that Alvin just manages to hit notes on that helium squeaker he's got going. and actually, Nancy probably isn't wrong. maybe he would have been an Alvin, back in the day. big and brash and expecting he should be in the middle of everything. thinking he was a lot hotter shit than he actually was. maybe there's some unfair resentment toward a fictional chipmunk going on here, just a little.
he's not an Alvin anymore. which is fine, because Alvin is kind of an asshole. Steve isn't sure he's entirely comfortable being the cranky dad that shouts at everyone, it's just that he does see a few parallels. that's all! and maybe a cranky dad that looks after people isn't the worst thing in the world to be. especially if he thinks he's a lot less shouty in practice. only shouty when it is really warranted!!! it isn't Steve's fault that his children warrant it a lot. right?
whatever. not being an Alvin works out for him, a lot of the time. not being an Alvin has him on Nancy Wheeler's couch, with her wild rumpled curly head pressed against his shoulder, wearing that little smile like she's trying not to show she's amused by something even though she definitely is? being more of a Dave these days has some benefits, that's all.
Steve settles back against Mrs. Wheeler's lace trimmed throw pillows, and hopefully getting comfortable is a good excuse for keeping an arm securely around Nancy's shoulders. just platonic friends being platonic friends here, nothing to see, nothing to worry about. he's got a couple hours before he'll be on the clock, and if he spends every last minute in hangover hell with Nancy, it'll be worth it. the dumb content smile on his face is proof enough of that. )
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I'll make sure to get down there before she has time to get too comfortable with the interrogation portion of catching up.
Just
please try to keep in mind that I have never and will never be able to stop her from being
well
her.
[ because she would not put it past her mother to only stick to the safe smalltalk for maybe five minutes before getting right to asking if he's seeing anyone newww? or if he's figured out what he wants his future to look like, or if his mother finally kicked his father to the curb yet, or- any number of personal things she doesn't already know about him, yeah. because obviously if he and nancy are in a bring-over-hangover-remedies type of place, then karen gets to resume her position as a mildly-invasive-but-intensely-supportive-mother-figure. ...and if she doesn't go for the personal questions route, the only other way she can imagine her trying to pass the time would be to remark about how grown up he is now. which- nope. no. not even going to go there. she just knows that if she walks into the kitchen and karen is gripping his bicep or immediately turning to give her some kind of look behind his back, she'll absolutely lose her mind.
and she also knows in her soul that if she tries to ask her to just, y'know, not be weird? it would increase her lack of chill tenfold. so. she's just going to roll the dice and hope for the best. because yeah, she did actually mean it when she said it's nothing he can't handle, but that doesn't mean he should have to handle any of it. although a plate of her perfectly fluffy scrambled eggs might make up for the embarrassment. maybe. if her stomach decides to cooperate this time. ]
Kind of the opposite, actually.
He's recently entered a phase that keeps him locked in his room pretending that we don't exist.
So, quiet reruns are definitely an option.
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( even though Karen is intense. and occasionally asks things that are a little too personal. Steve only has one other kind of mother to compare her to, and while he loves his mom — he wishes she would care about what he's doing or who he's seeing. it took his mom six months to figure out the girlfriend he kept talking about was the same girl.
he doesn't especially want to talk to Karen Wheeler about his nonexistent love life, but, if that is the cost of breakfast and getting Nancy her Gatorade, he will take one for the team. )
But feel free to save me if she decides to start coaching me on college applications, it would just waste her time. ( one wheeler losing daylight on the impossibility of Steve Harrington in higher education is probably enough strain on the universe. does that sound appropriately devil may care, like he doesn't care that he's too dumb to go to college? uh. hopefully!!! let's move this along! )
Yeah, he's been kinda a dickhead lately, huh? ( Steve drives Dustin to the arcade and his mom even pays a little, for him to keep him company on Saturday's when she's out with her Knitting club. seeing all of the party is inevitable when seeing Dustin. and Mike has definitely navigated securely into dour, dismissive teenager focused on his own drama.
which Steve was, once, so he figures he'll grow out of it eventually. )
Hard to be a world away from the girl you love, I guess. ( y ee s h, maybe he should not have said that. since Nancy is a girl that is loved with a boy a world away. Steve doesn't know how they do it. their phone bill must be astronomical with all the calls to California. )
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If college comes up in any context, I can promise you that she'll immediately make it a discussion about trying to convince me to pick a school that's more local.
Unless she's in her rare "I'm so proud of you for following your dreams" mood.
But there's no way of knowing until it comes up.
[ and then there's.... the rest of that, yep. a while ago it wouldn't be such a ..topic, but as it stands now? while mike and eleven started writing letters back and forth to each other nearly every week ( once their parents starting hounding them about the phone bill, yeah ), she and jonathan... didn't. they just started talking less often. pulling away, that's how she put it to robin, wasn't it? sort of literally, in the case of jonathan bailing on spring break at the last minute. which is still fresh because it's still spring break. and maybe if she was texting robin right now, she would make a snarky-but-ultimately-kinda-sad comment on the matter, but she's talking to steve and she's very aware of how selfish it would be to babble through her frustration to him. even if she really does need to get it out of her system somehow, eventually, since jonathan won't just talk to her-!
anyway. there's a short delay in nancy's response time, but it's ( hopefully ) not too long. not a noteworthy pause at all! ]
Mike is definitely feeling the strain of not having his girlfriend or his best friend around anymore. And he genuinely misses them both, obviously, but I think part of it is because they both put up with his shit way more than Lucas and Dustin do.
I'm just glad my parents didn't make him cancel his trip once they found out that Jonathan did. Especially now, with everything that's going on. They're all safer in California.
[ probably. ]
But hey, if you're going to be here in thirty minutes, I really need to go so I can attempt brushing my teeth again, at the very least.
I'm willing to swallow my pride about my bedhead, but I'm pretty sure my morning breath is lethal right now. It's for your own good.
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( and if giving Karen the bambi boy eyes and hinting they were really hoping to catch some A-Team reruns before he has to split for work, well... Steve happens to know Karen is susceptible to the bambi boy eyes. Nancy may or may not believe in his charms these days, but they exist!! and they work on moms!!!! )
Yeah. He's gotta remember he's not the only guy with problems. ( Dustin lost Eddie, and Lucas is dealing with all the stuff with Max. it's not that it doesn't suck that his girlfriend and best friend are back on the West Coast, it's just... damn, Mike, leave some room for the emotions of everyone else. that's a kid thing, Steve supposes, only seeing their own little bubble. thinking their hand is the worst hand that had ever been dealt. that said, all of the D&D crew are on a hair trigger, that doesn't help them be patient with each other.
and, uh, could his brain just. not. fixate on how Nancy just insisted she had to have better breath by the time he gets there?? damn, friends can have nice breath for each other too, asshole!! it is not the time to wonder whether Nancy still uses cinnamon mouthwash! !!! ! )
Wow. You'd do that for me? I'm touched.
Okay, okay. I'll leave you alone. For a bit.
You promised you'd save me from your mom before she got all the way to the third degree, I'm holding you to that.
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I know I should probably feel a little bad that she really does think the hangover is her fault, but I'm not to tell her that no, mom, it's my fault, because I decided to spend another hour or so nearly finishing off the rest of the bottle.
[ nancy ( luckily, for her own sake ) didn't actually put together that worrying about her breath could be taken in a different way than she intended it. it's really only because she's very sure that if she left her breath in the state it is now, all it would take is a simple "hello" in steve's direction and he might actually never want to hang out again. it's that bad. and that would suck! since they only just got back into each others lives and all. so.
... also yes she does still use cinnamon mouthwash. not that it matters. ahem. ]
I will, I will. I'll be there, I promise.
See you soon.
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See you soon, Nance.
> action!
she at least remembers to text her mom - "steve's coming over for a little while. i'll be down soon but could you let him in when he gets here?" ... "he offered to bring me a gatorade because i told him i'm not feeling great. and i don't know, we're probably just going to watch tv or something." ... "stop!! i'm taking back the 'or something'." ... "absolutely not, and please consider this me actually begging you not to even hint at whatever it is you think you know." ... "can we talk about this later, please???" - before tossing her phone on the bed, then slowly make her way back to the same bathroom she spent a little too long in last night, sitting on the edge of the tub while rapid-fire texting steve harrington and trying to sip water because he asked her to. god.
by the time she hears steve's car pull into the driveway, she's managed to brush and swish, wash her face, wrangle her messy curls into a ponytail, and even put on some deodorant! which is perfect, because that means she has time to get downstairs before he's even knocking on the door, effectively cutting off whatever smalltalk her mother might decide to bring up with him before she gets the chance to even start. but- ]
--shit! [ she's literally not wearing any pants. she's just wearing a slightly baggy t-shirt that she managed to tug on before crashing last night. not ideal for hanging out with your ex, especially in what might technically be their first attempt at the whole... friendship thing. ] shitshitshit.
[ so yeah, she needs to backtrack from the top of the stairs and head back to her room, which adds about five more minutes to the time it takes for her to save him from her mom, but like. it was worth it! she managed to find clean pajamas to change into - loose shorts and a button-up nightshirt, complete with scrunch socks. the kind of matching set jonathan would have teased her about for looking like a member of the brady bunch, for sure, which obviously meant they were totally safe for a totally-friends-only hangout - so she felt much more comfortable by the time she finally made it downstairs.
and if she's caught a little off-guard by the deja vu of walking into her kitchen and feeling a wild flutter of nerves ( or something ) when finds steve harrington talking to her mom, without any sort of anxious tension hanging in the room, like he just- belongs there ( or something!! )?? well, hopefully it wasn't too obvious before she shook it off. she doesn't think it was, at least, because steve had to turn to actually look her way, and her mom didn't make any obvious faces at her, so. phew.
however, karen's voice does drop to something like a stage whisper when she gives her a- ] Heeeey, Nance. Look who's here. [ with a too-cheerful smile and both of her brows lifting into her fully permed bangs. goddamnit, karen. ]
-- Hi.
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still manages to feel a bit like going back in time, though.
Karen welcomes him like he had just stopped by yesterday. exclaims how grown up he is now, which is weird, but surely intended as a compliment. he asks reasonable questions about Mike and Holly, because that limits how many questions Karen can lob back in his direction. and she even makes him toast to go with his undeserved eggs. it should feel weird, how familiar it all feels. he's even laughing at a story about Holly's first Christmas Concert and sucking what's left of buttered toast off his fingers when Karen announces Nancy's arrival, and Steve turns to greet her as bid.
Steve starts at her head, to be fair. she looks tired, which isn't a surprise, considering how much she must have put back to blow up his phone with what has to have been every nice thing he ever did in their relationship. curly hair forcefully restrained, cheeks a little pink, like she scrubbed her entire face instead of just her teeth. in a cute little nightgown, that matches — Steve only realizes that his eyes ran down the entire length of her legs by the time he sees her bunched up socks. shit. abort! ABORT! his eyes are back on her face. pointedly. on her face. much better. )
Hi, Nance, ( Steve echoes, offering a slight tilt of a smile. it's not weird unless they make it weird, so he is determined for this to be as normal as possible. he uses his big brown bambi pout to get breakfast from Robin's mother, too, so this is fair game. he straightens from where he was leaning against he counter, making a point to claim his own plate before Karen can swoop in and clean it up for him. ) I put the Gatorade in the fridge, your mom insisted.
( Karen immediately launches into a spiel about how cold drinks always help when she's feeling under the weather. Steve is putting his plate in the sink, he can't prove there's a conspiratorial wink about implying Nancy's hangover is an actual cold. he feels like there was one, though. that makes him smile too, the warm motherly buzzing of holding onto her daughter's secrets, even in knowing company. he's always liked Karen and that is one thing that seems to have not changed in the two years since he was last welcome in the Wheeler kitchen around breakfast time. and, considering how many times Nancy warned him about her mother, he figures as a friend he will provide her an easy exit strategy. ) You think you still have time to watch some of that show you were telling me about before I gotta jet for work?
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she only really clues back in in time to notice him looking from her knees down to her socks, then back up to her face. so... yeah, of course she's going to drop her gaze down to her socks for a second, toes curling. were socks a weird choice? is that the weird part of all this? she figured slippers would've been the weird choice-
anyway. ]
Oh! Umm. Perfect. Thhhanks, Mom.
[ if she sounds both amused and mildly suspicious, it's only because she doesn't totally realize that that's a notable thing, because warm gatorade might actually only make her feel worse ( because of COURSE it would. gross. ), but she's not about to outwardly question it. well, not verbally. she outwardly questions it in the way she lets her brows do all the talking when she shoots a what are you talking about and why are you saying all these words about gatorade????? look karen's way, in the short moment that steve's facing the sink, right before she mosies over to the fridge to grab that blessed sports drink.
but like, it's fine. steve's out is perfect - ] Yes, totally. I've got all the time in the world to show you- that show. [ and even karen suddenly shoving a small plate of lightly buttered toast with sugar cinnamon sprinkled on top ( to "help with the congestion!" ) doesn't manage to make her feel embarrassed about any of it. especially because they've been through so much fucking worse than dealing with a ridiculous morning moment with her mother. so with a cold gatorade in one hand, and a plate of toasted, sugary carbs in the other, nance looks to steve then tips her head to the side, as if she really thinks he'll actually need to follow her to find his way to the den. as if they hadn't spent an absurd amount of time in what was probably the only space in the house with any sense of privacy, besides her bedroom, which was predictably not where her parents were willing to let them spend so much time together.
not that that's something she's thinking about right now. privacy. who cares about that, right? and to prove she's not concerned with that one way or the other, she finds her way right to the middle of the long couch and makes herself comfortable there, instead of the far end where they wouldn't have been seen from the hallway.
... it genuinely doesn't occur to her that even though it isn't necessarily a small couch, sitting right in the middle like she is doesn't leave much room for steve to like- pick how much space to put between them, once he picks a spot. oops? how can she put much thought into that when she's too busy twisting off the cap of that gatorade so she can take two, three long sips, then shutting her eyes, tipping her head back, and releasing a slow breath as she relaxes into the squashy cushions? ] Yup. Just like I said. Perfect.
[ her head lulls to the side as she peeks an eye open to look at him, her ponytail already coming a little loose ]
So was she totally weird, or did she play it cool? I'm sorry I took so long to get there, either way.
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Nancy is already on the sofa, and there's something nostalgic about her, sitting there. smack dab in the middle. it didn't used to be like that, back in the day they'd take separate corners and eventually he'd sneak a little closer. very obvious moves like stretching and conveniently leaving his arm along the back of the couch behind her. or closing the distance to peer at the book she was reading (because of course Nancy would insist on studying during TV time) or to point out the carefully scribed details on the back of her notecard. and she would smile in that way that meant she knew what he was doing and was completely aware of him sneaking into her space. the way she'd snuggle under his arm or against his side once he managed to get the initiative to hold her.
and then one day, they were just past needing to work up to it. she sat in the middle of the couch, and when he joined her she pointedly slipped in against his side, sometimes before he even reached for her.
so maybe it's a little bittersweet, sitting down next to her. since that cuddly softness is probably not on the table for a newly rekindled friendship. not that cuddling is illegal, or anything. Robin will settle her legs on his lap or lean against his shoulder, sure, it just... Steve doesn't have any clue what that balance looks like with Nancy. probably it shouldn't look exactly like where they used to be, and it is hard not to miss it, just a little.
and honestly he needs to stop looking at her legs!!! for gods sake, he's a fully grown adult. just, did she mean to wear shorts that short to hang out in her den? obviously she did. because she's wearing them. handle it, Harrington! )
Good, ( Steve decides to the Gatorade hitting the spot it was supposed to. ) You sure you don't need the Tylenol? ( that is in his pocket, he didn't forget! not that Karen would really find it weird that he brought headache medication, but it's off the script of them pretending Nancy has a cold, so he didn't mention it. of course, Nancy is on a completely different wavelength, still worried about her Mom being A Lot. and to be fair, Karen is A Lot. just, in a good way, Steve thinks. ) She was fine, Nance, honestly. I'm great with moms. How did you forget this?
( Steve insisted once he was great at making a good impression on Moms, and he proved it not just with Karen, but Mrs. Holland too. hell, he's good with his own mom, when he actually gets to see her. he's great with moms! facts are facts. )
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but not moving was only half the battle. the other half is trying to pretend that she isn't suddenly very aware that her choice in dorky matching pajamas ( a choice she was very proud of a few minutes ago!! ) is a very stark contrast to the way steve is fully dressed. ..not that she's not! fully dressed. she is. but he's dressed for work. jeans and a polo. and she's wearing a pajama set that she wouldn't actually feel all that comfortable even just running outside to get the mail in, now that she's thinking about it. so.
that's really great.
and the way she picks her head up again, first so she can screw the cap back onto her drink, then to only sort of stare down at their laps for a moment, probably makes it pretty obvious that she's thinking about something, too. although she's pretty sure he's not going to realize she's just slightly panicking over how bare her legs are, next to his denim-clad thighs. hopefully. but she doesn't let it linger too long either way, not when- ]
Oh, no, I definitely need the Tylenol. I was just about to ask you if you brought it. [ if it sounds like she's talking about a drug way more hardcore than tylenol, it's only because the thought of skipping it seemed to actually make her skull rebel harder, for just a second. enough so that any worry about her clothes seems to get tossed out the window for now, as she turns to face him ( not completely! it was a 45 degree angle adjustment, at most. ... but it was enough that her knee bumped his thigh once she settled that way. that's probably worth noting. ), then holds her hand out flat between them, palm up. ] I'll take three, please, if you don't mind. [ she would probably look more mischievous about the fact that she just asked for one more than the recommended two gelcap dose, because that's just not something nancy wheeler ever did in the past ( she might've scolded steve for doing so, even after a tough game ), but yeah. it's a little bit undercut by the fact that it's a slightly pained mischievous look. later on she'll realize she shouldn't have looked steve dead in the eyes while she asked for those three pills, just because there's really no hiding just how hungover she really is from this close. her eyes are red, she knows, she can feel how dry they are. and she's kind of squinting, or wincing, because daylight is still a little too bright, even through the curtains in the den. and they all seem to have permanent dark circles under their eyes at this point ( thanks, nightmares ), but she knows hers are way worse than usual right now. and her hair also found a way to be both greasy and frizzy at the same time today, too! her messy ponytail doesn't hide that.
but at least her breath doesn't smell???? ]
... And I didn't forget. I was just worried that maybe you forgot just how much you already charmed her. I mean, you should have seen her face when I told her you were stopping by. She really missed- you. [ a beat ] --That was a totally weird thing to say, wasn't it? You don't even have to say it, I know it was. God. [ she laughs, sighs ] But it's true.
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besides, calling in to chill out with his ex-turned-friend-again is just. too intense. plus, Robin would know, and ask him all sorts of questions, and he just... he can't handle Robin obsessing about this right now. she means well, really, it's just that Steve doesn't need any help obsessing about Nancy, he's good enough at it all on his own. once he figures out the balance of this again, once it feels less weird (it feels weird, not wrong)... then he'll mention things to Robin. that they're hanging out again.
that Nancy agrees she wants the Tylenol — which is kind of ridiculous to have brought in the first place. she has to have at least three different pain killers in her medicine cabinet — a smile pulls at his face, almost despite himself. it feels better, to be able to help. and it's nice to have someone willing to let him. Robin will grumble and kick her feet but she knows that his mom friend habits are almost like a security blanket. Steve likes to look after someone. and when Nancy is as fiercely independent as she is, it is nice when she extends the olive branch to let him do things for her when she doesn't have to.
it does mean he has to shift slightly over her lap, fishing them out of entirely too-tight jeans. he doles out her active-release fix, and if Nancy is insecure about looking him in the eye, she doesn't really have to be. he doesn't expect her to have it all together right now. do any of them have it all together? he may not be hungover, but fuck, he's tired. he can never sleep after these episodes of the world nearly ending, alone in an empty house. memories catching up whenever he tries to lay down and shut his brain off. eventually he just gives up trying, goes to the gym, goes on a run, goes out for a pack of smokes, goes to get pancakes at 3am.
Steve doesn't see anything he isn't expecting to see. just Nancy. beautiful, tired, strong, weighed down by more than anyone should be and yet no real escape from it, either. some things never change — hoping he can split the load with her, even for a little while, is the only thing her weary, light sensitive appearance inspires. )
A little weird, ( Steve agrees with a laugh, mostly because he cannot fathom why they are still talking about Nancy's mom. still, not the worst feeling in the world, to be missed. ) I think she hates having leftovers, none of that shit on my watch. I'm like a human garbage disposal. Plus she just wants to talk about her kids, and actually, I really get that. ( Steve, as a single mother, also loves to talk about his kids. it's just they're all 14, and don't belong to him. ) There anything you wanna watch? Otherwise we can catch Looney Toons or something, I'm not above Looney Toons.
1/2
although it's actually not all that necessary, she's realizing fairly quickly, because even fully acknowledging the fact that this is sort of... uncharted territory for them, it doesn't feel weird. or wrong. not even moderately iffy. and it's very possible that the literal earth-shattering event that happened just a few weeks ago ( along with everything that lead up to it ) is the reason why this doesn't seem like the hugest deal, now that it's actually happening, but. like. she's pretty sure narrowly dodging the immediate end of the world wouldn't cancel out a truly bad feeling, if they were actually... doing something. bad. right? yeah. it's just-!
it actually feels a lot more normal than she ever would have expected it to. down to the fact that steve still has the best/worst timing of saying something like none of that shit on my watch. i'm like a garbage disposal, right after nancy takes a giant sip of gatorade to wash down those pills. she doesn't choke, by her eyes do widen as she presses the back of her hand to her mouth, huffing a laugh once she knows there's no chance she's about to burp or anything totally embarrassing. ]
Oh, yeah. I'm sure all she's thinking about right now is how grateful she is for every square inch of saran wrap that was saved from being used today, thanks to you. [ said with a nod and a quiet reverence to her tone, one that is... completely undermined by the way the corners of her mouth are quirked up. she turns to settle back against the couch properly again, a very lazy slouch taking the place of her usual perfect posture. she's becoming one with the couch, because couches don't get hangovers. and if steve happens to catch the small gasp( ! the quick inhale through her nose kind ) before she reaches to pick up one of her slices of sugary toast off the plate she left on the couch beside her- no, he didn't. she definitely didn't forget it was there and get excited all over again once she rediscovered it. nope. she'll take full ownership over the happy hum she makes after her second bite, though. especially because she follows it up with a third pretty quickly. obviously her stomach's decided to cooperate now. praise be. ]
Mm! mmwait, y'know what? [ she tilts her head to nearly a full 90 degrees before just taking it upon herself to turn steve's hand that way, so she can read his watch. and apparently she's happy with the time, because she gives the heel of his hand a squeeze then scoots to the edge of the couch just so she can reach the remote from where it's sitting on the coffee table in front of them. ] Alvin's on. [ there's really no shame in this particular guilty pleasure, not when steve was around when she first discovered it, and she's quick to turn on the tv and punch in the right channel, like maybe there's no takebacksies if it's already on the screen before he can protest. ]
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she's not ready for the tv to turn on at a slightly-louder-than-appropriate-for-morning-cartoons volume, and it turns out the theme song isn't nearly as charming when her head is already pounding. so yes, that was a noticeable wince and a flinch all in one, and yes, that was a very audible whine of discomfort, and yes, she nearly dropped the remote in her rush to turn the tv off again.
her cheeks are pink by the time she takes another long sip of her gatorade, then huffs a grumpy sigh. "betrayed" is not a strong enough word for the pout that takes over her features, although her dour - ] --screw you, Alvin. [ is followed by another huff, but the kind that's more.. kinda laughing at herself this time, with the way it makes her deflate back into becoming one with the couch. ]
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and Steve generally doesn't mind, being the butt of a joke. especially when he's the one that made it. it can let air back into the room, make things a little easier if you have something to laugh about. getting Nancy to nearly choke on her gatorade is a really powerful feeling, actually, because it'd be easy for her to roll her eyes or give him that look, that one that says be serious without any words necessary. instead she's in a good enough mood to try and pointedly not laugh about it. if she wasn't drinking Steve would guess he'd get that smile, the one where Nancy is insisting she thinks he's full of it, but seems to be enjoying that fact.
Steve likes that smile, so, some sister to it, spluttered into gatorade, is just fine with him.
he's aware of Nancy's fondness for singing chipmunks. Steve isn't sure he's fond, but he's fond of Nancy being fond, if that makes any sense at all. he remembers after they were Official, watching Alvin and the Chipmunks in the den was almost their cover. nothing untoward could possibly be happening with Alvin crooning on screen. to be fair, there rarely was. some hand holding. cuddling. some really spicy finger twining, sometimes. and there were a few rare moments when Karen jogged upstairs that Nancy would turn and whisper with feverish urgency, We have five minutes, tops.
and okay then they might have gotten a little untoward, though it was really just two teenagers heavy petting desperately in the few minutes they were allotted without supervision.
there's a nostalgic look on Steve's face as he leans back to watch, not necessarily trying to be ready to deliver a chipmunk singing impression, but also not not trying to be ready. you never know when you'll have the opportunity to serenade Nancy Wheeler in a pitchy voice to make her laugh, and Steve just wants to be ready. but instead, her favorite furry friend betrays her utterly, blaring out of the television louder than Eddie Munson had been playing Master of Puppets. there's nothing really notable or standout about Ted Wheeler besides the fact he listens to TV at the same decibel all other old dudes do, so it is clear who was on the TV last. Steve isn't hungover and he still winces, the three seconds tops that they are both ear blasted.
Steve's expression shifts from nostalgic to trying-not-to-laugh, the corners of his mouth tipping up without his consent. he sits up again immediately, doesn't think about it, just does it — rubs a sympathetic circle on Nancy's back. he pats Dustin on the back, he rubs Robin's back, there's friend precedent for that being fine. right? so who cares, part of being Steve's friend is absolutely letting him dote on you a little. )
Shit, ( Steve admonishes the chipmunk, and oh no his voice gives him away as much as his face, that he's trying not to laugh but still is, on the inside. no, no, it was just... kinda cute?? and kinda funny. it's not his fault that it was kinda funny. Alvin was the asshole, here. ) Here, just... cover your ears, I'll get it. ( he's pretty sure he can mute the set before Alvin deafens them for good, but just in case... smart of Nancy to protect herself. )
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whatever. she's not actually thinking about any of that, it's just part of the reason why steve's very neutral, friendly, platonic gesture results in her blush turning a shade darker, and her smile going a little dopey. because apparently! touch-starved or not! she still has a giant weakness for the way steve harrington's hands, broad and warm and aha other things - feel on her body, even through the fabric of her shirt. which is just... god, that is so wrong! and she is such an idiot, just the worst.
she doesn't have it in her to pretend to be offended by his tone, because he can totally laugh at her, she deserves it, even if he doesn't know the full reason why. she even huffs an embarrassed laugh of her own when he offers to fix the volume for her, tells her to cover her ears, because yeah. yes. she'll take that opportunity to hide her face for a minute, sure.
and so her didn't-think-about-it, just-did-it move is to pass him the remote, then tuck her face against his shoulder, and use her other hand to cover her other ear. it's easy, it's simple, they're already sitting so close, so it's a great plan. except his hand is on her back, so when she turns in towards him, there's this split second that his arm is almost around her, and it takes way more will power than it should to not just curl up against his chest. it's that muscle memory again, trying to call her out. it's not her fault. but she doesn't - she sticks to the plan, even if it means she's kind of hugging his arm, and her knee is two seconds away from settling on his thigh, by the time she's turned enough to actually hide her face.
it's fine.
'Kay, I'm ready. [ like this was aLL according to plan!! one ear is pressed to his shoulder, and heer other is quickly covered by her hand. as planned!! ] Do it.
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that's not really what Steve meant by cover your ears, but, he's never been a guy to shoot a gift horse in the mouth. maybe, somewhere distantly, some reasonable and stern part of him wants to insist that it is pretty dumb to let himself indulge in proximity with Nancy that will just make him desperate for more. there's only so much more that can be had, here. they haven't talked about his confession in the woods, perhaps both deciding that opening that Pandora's Box is a dangerous game. Steve doesn't want to bring it up and ruin the fact they're in the process of being friends again. Nancy doesn't want to bring it up for... well, maybe the same thing. and that's fine! he's totally cool, being friend-zoned. he's gonna friend the shit out of Nancy Wheeler.
it's just, having her this close, is maybe not the same vibe as when Robin is this close. because Steve still remembers fondly how easily Nancy fits against him, even if it's been years since she has been. until just now. and the reminder is amazing, and tempting, and overwhelming, all at once. because it's only too easy to remember other ways they fit together. Steve is momentarily frozen, trying not think of exactly how many ways. which is. creepy. douchey! he could maybe not think of that, right now! or the fact he can feel the notches of her spine, the line of her bra underneath his palm.
this is fine. she can cover her ears this way. he just needs to be a goddamn adult and deal with it. if he wants to make this friendship work, then he severely needs to not get in his head about Nancy being close. because Steve likes Nancy being close. if this is what their friendship looks like, that's completely cool. because even just being her friend is so much better than not having her in his life at all.
his palm slides down her spine as Steve focuses intensely on punching the necessary buttons. on, then mute, then dialing the volume to a reasonable level, for anyone what wasn't a middle-aged man. and then a few under that, because, that hangover sure seems to be something else, and the active-release hasn't kicked in yet! Nancy seeming to tuck into him a little tighter just means she's anticipating another blaring jolt of noise. nothing to read into, whatsoever.
and then the moment passes. there's no good reason for Nancy to be tucked against his side anymore. Steve curves a hand around her shoulder, which is really the opposite of what he should be doing, if he's letting her go now. oops. ) Good, ( he tells her, and considering how sternly she's protecting her ears, probably the only reason she'll know he said anything is the timber of his voice vibrating from his chest through her cheekbone. )
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but this time around, when steve basically put it all on the line in a way she could never dream of doing, there was really no expectation, no lingering question that needed an answer. but she did. have one. it was right there, and she had even taken the breath needed to actually tell him, but then
but then robin rushed back to talk to them. and nancy was frustrated, for that split second, because in that split second she spent looking at the ground, then peering back up at steve, the words she wanted to say did the same thing they always do. retreated. and at this point she's sort of convinced herself it was for the best, because part of her was still so sure that eventually robin would babble her way through letting steve know she actually had feelings for him, and that'd be that. and she'd be happy for them, really, even if right at the moment, the thought of it made her feel... something. not jealousy, but maybe jealousy. something like it. which made her a shitty girlfriend, for sure, not to mention a shitty friend, probably, but she's a little out of practice, cut her some slack.
his hand slides down her back and she sighs, relaxes, like maybe she's just feeling more comfortable being this close to him again instead of that "is this okay?" weirdness they've been floating around in since she showed up in the kitchen. but it also makes her realize that at some point her hand made the decision to move too, without her permission, and slid from its spot up on his bicep, down somewhere closer to the bend of his elbow. which- yeah. um. yeah. that was a mistake. snapping out of her train of thought right in time to clock how his arm felt under her fingertips was a mistake.
she's starting to doubt if she's actually capable of friending the shit out of steve harrington. which does make her curl up against him a little tighter, for just a second, because if she can't be his friend then where the hell does that leave them? or leave her, really.
there's no way he actually knows that she's trying to figure all this out while he makes sure alvin and the chipmunks are more hangover friendly, but his hand moves to her shoulder and she just- she has to figure this out. she has to. she also needs to stop holding onto steve like she's afraid he'll disappear any second now. yeah. yes. she's doing that now. that's a thing she's doing.
although she fucks it up, like really, royally fucks it all up, because instead of just turning back around and pulling herself out of his hold the way she managed to do after that earthquake in the upside down brought them close ( too close ), and holding on tight, she just
sits up straight.
which brings them eye to eye, almost, and his face is so close ( too close ), the kind of close that always used to make her feel the need to insist that his eyes aren't just brown, that there's some green in them, before closing that last little bit of space between them before he could say something about her eyes that would turn her into a blushing mess, and- okay, okay, okay, okay.
okay. okay!
( for the record, if her expression shifts to that one the makes her eyes too wide, like she's pleading for something, something like do it, please. make the decision for me. for just a split second- no, it didn't. ) ]
Thanks.
[ she smiles, feeling a mild, ridiculous sense of deja vu, before releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding in. and thanking her past self for pulling herself together enough to brush her damn teeth. shit. okay. okay, okay. she slowly unwinds herself from him, turning to face the tv again, even scooting a little bit towards the edge of the couch, like that puts all that much space between them. and then she's just- going to chug some gatorade, apparently. so much gatorade. and it has nothing to do with not wanting to give herself a second to blurt out something really stupid. ]
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a stint at the end of the world, late night texting and D&D lessons, sitting a little too close on the sofa, and that's it. he's a straight goner all over again. or he always was gone? maybe he always will be a little bit lost on Nancy Wheeler. it might just be his lot in life, to always be a little bit in love with his first love. Steve can't look at it and regret too much, besides the fact that he wasn't ready when she needed him to be. that their watches weren't synchronized and somewhere along the line they just... missed each other.
it's okay. it's okay that's not where they are anymore. Steve can accept it. he thought, for the longest, just staying clear of Nancy as she lived her life and he lived his was the best for both of them. Steve isn't so sure, anymore. it'd be a lie to say being close to her doesn't make him wistful for things. of course it does. he's only human. but he's a human with some modicum of self control, actually. still carrying a torch for her doesn't mean they have to give up on being around each other. he can't help how he feels about her but it's not the only thing in his life, the only part of what brings them together. not anymore.
if Nancy is on the ropes, unsure where the lines should be in a friendship with her ex — well, Steve can articulate what he's comfortable with, and she can meet him somewhere in the middle. she shifts slightly away, hammers through her gatorade like she's hoping it might be laced with something stronger than electrolytes. and Steve could sure let that happen, take that as the expectation. but he has a bad precedent for this, too. Nancy pulls back and he pushes back in, because he knows she doesn't actually want the distance. if she thinks she has to back off to try and keep him from reading into things, well, Steve refuses to let her think he needs or even prefers distance. because it's true, fuck the "is this okay?" weirdness. the answer is always yes. whatever Nancy needs or whats from him, it's always, always gonna be yes.
so Steve shifts back across the space she put in, nudges her with a shoulder. ) Okay, tiger, you don't have to kill that in one sitting. ( he lifts his eyebrows, a quirk of a smile on his face. they're back to a little too close, and he only thinks a moment how pressing into her space used to be so she could stop making excuses about not kissing him and get to it already. how easy it'd be to do it now. it's just a blink of a thought, because knowing how much he likes to kiss her is a hard thought to entirely dodge when they're this close, looking each other in the eye. instead of that, they can do... friendly. companion-y. and that's still good. yeah. it's good.
Steve leans back against the couch, arm propping up over the back of it, and attention shifting to Alvin. giving Nancy the space to shift properly to the far side of the couch, to distance, if that's what she wants — or. to not do that. to just lean back and enjoy the company and closeness, because Steve wants that at least as much as she does. he's not gonna make a move, there's no intentions here besides nursing off Nancy's hangover and just. comfort. friends can do that. they can do that. it's nothing to get in their heads about. Steve's natural blustering confidence, fake it til you make it, in action. )
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he nudges her shoulder and she nudges his right back, aims the best "ha ha ha, very funny" look that she can muster his way. although it doesn't hold up as long as it should, ends up losing some oomph once he smiles. because her eyes drop too quickly to look, then take a second longer than they should to find his again, but he's moving out of her space to settle back against he couch properly before she even gets the chance to feel sheepish about it. she turns to look at him but ends up tucking her face against her shoulder for a moment, because she knows an invitation when she sees one, and trying to decide if she should accept it ( should, not wants to, because she definitely wants to and that's part of the problem ) isn't as easy a decision as she thinks it should be.
she knows that this isn't as complicated as she's making it out to be, but it's tough for her not to get in her head about it when steve seems to be handling this with way more maturity than she is. and she'd argue that it's because she's hungover as hell and he's not, but it's not really that. so she's caught right down the middle about how she feels about it, because on the one hand, she's grateful that he's taking the lead on things right now, impressed by it, even ( which feels rude to think, in this case, but it's true ) and a little surprised? in a way that reminds her she really needs to quit underestimating how much he's grown up in the last couple years. but on the other hand, it makes her feel almost... anxious? yeah. because maybe she's still worried about fucking this up. they talked about it somewhat, in those texts, but still.
she's selfish, doesn't he remember that? and she's impulsive, and indecisive, and has all these walls ( that she's realizing, in real time, haven't actually gone anywhere since the moment she first started to build them up, back when barb disappeared and it became clear that people didn't care, and have only gotten taller over time. walls to keep her feelings locked up, to keep her from getting too overwhelmed with grief or disappointment to keep moving forward. walls that protected her from letting the misogyny thrown her way by her shitty coworkers at the hawkins post break her spirit, and walls that continue to protect her from being with someone that tends to give her pushback, and make her doubt herself, when all she ever asks for is support. not help, not permission, just support. which, hah, isn't that the opposite of how your partner is supposed to make you feel? shouldn't he, y'know, help you learn how to deal with the things that made you build those walls in the first place, so you can learn to take them down? hm. oh. yeah. that's- a thing, but not a thing she's going to dissect right now, nope. ), and about a hundred other flaws, so how and why the hell is he opening himself up to her again like this?
... in a friendship way, yeah. even in that way. because even that is just-! it's-! and he-! he's an idiot, obviously.
an idiot that looks really cozy, at the moment.
damnit.
she reaches out to put her bottle down on the coffee table in front of them, then braces a hand on the cushion so she can scoot her butt back to sit beside him. she doesn't settle as hip-to-hip with him as they were before, but only because she will be sinking down low into the cushion enough to use his arm as a pillow, absolutely. she even takes the time to push her messy, poor excuse for a bun up a little higher before getting comfortable, so it does't dig into his arm. it also means her tragically unkept permed curls are kind of all over the place, but whatever. she's comfortable. she's surprisingly comfortable with this closeness, too. she could still tuck in that little bit closer to him if she wanted to, the option is right there, but... this is better, probably. for now.
the cartoon lighting up her tv ends up being a better wingman ( to her self control!!! ) than she was expecting, because it is still a favorite of hers, turns out. they're quiet as they watch for a bit, and it doesn't feel uncomfortable, but maybe she doesn't have it in her to just sit and relax quietly right now. she's been doing enough of that on her own lately. ]
I used to tell Dustin I thought he was just like Theodore, partly because it was true, but mostly because his face would turn so red, because he knew I meant it in a good way. [ she tips her head to look his way, pauses for a second so she can tip her head back to blow a stray curl out of her face ] But- He's Simon now, isn't he? He's totally Simon. So I guess that makes youuu... [ she tries to look contemplative, very serious, but her smile keeps interrupting ] Dave? [ the grumpy father figure that was currently bellowing the name of the biggest troublemaker of the three chipmunks, as he so often does, yes. her pause only lasts a couple seconds. ] Or! Or Alvin, you could still be Alvin. Totally.
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and that was before Nancy had her best friend devoured by a demogorgon. before she'd had to set a trap for a monster because nobody else believed her (him included). before the seedy, ugly, terrifying unknown opened reared its ugly head and threatened everything she had ever known. before the Mindflayer, before participating in an Upside Down exorcism, before Vecna had targeted another of her friends, before they'd looked all looked death in the face and survived, but maybe not entirely succeeded. it's so much harder, now, to draw Nancy out of herself. to make her smile, to make her laugh, to pull her away from the everything none of them could possibly forget, even if they wanted to.
so, maybe it's stupid. to open himself up to it, again. when it'd been so devastating when she'd pulled herself away the last time. Steve doesn't think it's stupid, if it counts for anything. if he still has the power to make Nancy try to hide a laugh in a limited quirk of a smile, to lean back against the sofa and watch Alvin and the Chipmunks when everything seems to be falling apart around them — then it's worth it. maybe eventually she'll pull away again, there's a risk of that. but Steve thinks it'd be different, this time. he let her go last time around. Steve isn't sure he can do that twice. maybe it'd have been different, if he tried to hold on. tried to talk, explain, understand, anything.
if it comes it that, it comes to that. but Steve thinks they're old enough to avoid the same mistakes. they've been through too much to just lose each other again, not when they don't have to. they've lost enough in that final sort of way to give up on something they can actually save.
his hand curves slightly around Nancy's shoulder, thumb running the line of her collarbone over the fabric of her pajamas. it's weird how easily he can find it, still knows how she feels under his fingertips. ) I'm a Dave. Yeah. Shouting for troublemakers to get their act together and trudging after them to try and manage the mess as they ignore me? Yeah, I'm Dave, for sure Dave. ( it's something he's grown to accept. it's nice to have a Dave around, sometimes, even if he's a shouty killjoy. you need a Dave, imagine the trouble the Chipmunks would get up to if Dave wasn't there to try and run damage control.
but since Nancy herself gave him the opening, you gotta know that Steve wasn't mentally preparing for a Chipmunk Solo not to unleash it on her. ) What makes me an Alvin? It's the voice, right? Whoooaaaa, for the longest time. ( Steve's at least mildly cognizant of the hangover, and keeps his squeaky solo at a more reasonable decibel than whatever Ted Wheeler was watching the news at. but it's just as ridiculous, even quiet. ) Alvin wishes. He's totally pitchy.
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although the way she smiles at steve's self assessment is a little softer around the edges, for sure. is she even aware of the fact that there's a new addition to her rolodex of expressions? no. it's really just an extension of her steve-just-being-steve smile, but... it's different. a different type of admiration. one she usually manages to hold off until he can't actually see it there, but. well. not so much this time.
luckily! steve bails her out yet again by surprising her in a way that makes her laugh, the kind that has her face scrunching up ( and reminds her of the dull throb that her painkillers are still valiantly trying to fight off, but she won't hold that against him at all ) before she looks down and brings her hand up to rub along her bottom lip, like she needs to reel herself in. a habit she still hasn't managed to break. it's quick though, like maybe she thought she felt something on her face, and then right she's back to looking up at him, just with a smile that's a little more sobered.
of course, looking up at him again makes her realize that she's closer to him now, in a way that feels like she's much closer, but she's technically not. it's just those last pathetic few inches, that's all. but like, her hip is against his, and her head is definitely closer to his shoulder than his elbow now. which is something she very deliberately decided to maintain, only, what thirty seconds ago??? when the-? HOW? okay, it's official. she needs to find a self help book on self control or conquering impulses. clearly!!! also maybe a book on sticking to her guns, too, because even once she realizes the way she's tucked closer to him, she doesn't make any attempt at regaining that small space back. she's focused on more important things. ]
Leave Alvin alone, he's not pitchy. He's- That's just his voice. He's trying his best. [ that is not her quiet flirting voice, for anyone that's clocking her big dumb choices. it's her quiet.. quiet voice. it's just a quiet, defensive voice, okay? perfectly appropriate when sticking up for her favorite chipmunks. ] And I only said it because I was trying to be nice, but I take it back. You're definitely a Dave. [ a beat, and she's smiling again, her not-smile smile ] But at least he recognizes Alvin's talent.
🎀 here maybe??
he's not an Alvin anymore. which is fine, because Alvin is kind of an asshole. Steve isn't sure he's entirely comfortable being the cranky dad that shouts at everyone, it's just that he does see a few parallels. that's all! and maybe a cranky dad that looks after people isn't the worst thing in the world to be. especially if he thinks he's a lot less shouty in practice. only shouty when it is really warranted!!! it isn't Steve's fault that his children warrant it a lot. right?
whatever. not being an Alvin works out for him, a lot of the time. not being an Alvin has him on Nancy Wheeler's couch, with her wild rumpled curly head pressed against his shoulder, wearing that little smile like she's trying not to show she's amused by something even though she definitely is? being more of a Dave these days has some benefits, that's all.
Steve settles back against Mrs. Wheeler's lace trimmed throw pillows, and hopefully getting comfortable is a good excuse for keeping an arm securely around Nancy's shoulders. just platonic friends being platonic friends here, nothing to see, nothing to worry about. he's got a couple hours before he'll be on the clock, and if he spends every last minute in hangover hell with Nancy, it'll be worth it. the dumb content smile on his face is proof enough of that. )