[ there is a tiny part of steve that is trying to convince himself that this could potentially be a disaster. because this is nancy, and he has always had a soft spot for her, from the moment they met (really, truly, properly met). when steve was trying desperately to prove that he was more than the rumor mill made him out to be (even if some of those rumors were true).
but he isn't about to leave her hanging, and regardless of where they currently stand, he is more than happy to just be there for her so she doesn't have to be alone. he doesn't know if this is about jonathan or if this is about those visions that vecna forced her to see, or if it's about barb, or the horrors that the mind flayer wreaked upon the small town of hawkins, indiana. it doesn't really matter what brought this on, because steve would have dropped everything to come to her aid regardless.
and as it turns out, steve has his own reasons for wanting to get drunk. because while nancy was dealing with slow-motion breakup, steve was coming to terms with robin spending more and more time with vickie. robin, who has recently decided she wants to go away to college and leave steve behind. and with dustin spending more and more time with eddie munson lately, seeing as how the latter miraculously survived. and how could steve try to come between any of these things?
the real kicker was finding out his parents were selling the house. sure, the market is shit, but why would they want to live in hawkins after everything? he hasn't told anyone this yet, has no fucking clue what he's going to do,
so yeah. getting drunk with nancy wheeler seems very much in order right now. ]
Hi yourself. [ but he can't help the small smile that creeps across his face just at seeing her. the smile that grows wider every second. ] Oh, I don't know about that. But I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to argue with the supplier of the alcohol. [ his face displays the shock he feels at her hand taking his, and he has to fight that familiar feeling bubbling up inside of him, forcing himself to remember the relief that nancy and jonathan shared at finding out they both made it out alive. even if he is very much aware that it was steve who she invited, and jonathan does not appear to be anywhere in the vicinity. ]
Lead the way? [ this house holds so many memories for steve that he can feel his breath get pulled right out of his throat as they start to resurface. dinners with her parents. the christmas where her mother presented him with the ugliest sweater and he had been more than happy to put it on then and there. sneaking into her bedroom to help her study. he tries to push the word bullshit out of sight and out of mind and focus on the here and now.
and maybe speeds up his pace just a little bit, because the quicker he catches up to nancy, the better. ]
[ it's funny, in an- "oh, shit" way, more than a "haha" way, but now that steve's here, and now that steve's hand is in hers, and she's leading the way, she actually has no idea where she wants to lead him. to the booze would be the simple answer, but to the booze is actually quite complicated when that also means to her bedroom. so yeah, those first few very confident steps were in the direction of those stairs, but then she stops. right there. and she's suddenly back to her sophomore year, like this is one of the first times steve came over and didn't sneak in through her window, and her mom knew perfectly well that they were heading up to spend time in her room, but it still felt like the most intimidating, scandalous thing in the world. the nerves she feels for a split second are so similar that she can't help the way she huffs a laugh, glancing over at him, turning away again before she can even tell if he was looking back at her, and then lifts her drink so she can just- finish that right off, yep.
sipping it through a straw doesn't exactly have the same dramatic effect as knocking back a shot's worth of booze with an easy tip of her head back, like in the movies, but that's okay. once her glass is empty, she's looking back up the stairs again, and with the way her hand tightens around his it probably makes it seem like she's decided to bring him up to her room after all, but- ]
Basement. [ it almost sounds like she was answering a question, but like. a question that nobody actually asked? because it was the question she was asking herself while trying to figure out where to lead him. oops. ] We should hang out in the basement. [ it's a pretty neutral space, right? yeah. and the couch is ridiculously comfortable, too. yeah. perfect. ] I'll meet you down there, okay? Just need to grab the stuff from my room.
[ the stuff, like it's something that needs to remain unspoken, and not just a couple of old bottles of booze. whatever. she nodnodnods, then finally lets go of his hand to wander up to her bedroom to get the goods. it's not too long of a wait before she's descending the stairs to the basement, even with the stop she made in the kitchen to grab steve a glass just like hers, and toss a couple of ice cubes into both for good measure. the big bottle of coke and the two bottles of booze rattle against each other in the bag she put them in to carry them down, but she doesn't seem too concerned about it. she doesn't seem concerned with anything right now, honestly. in fact, she seems pretty pleased with herself by the time she's looping around the small coffee table to take a seat on said comfy couch, then takes the bottles out one by one to line them up in front of her.
she points- ] Vodka. [ points again ] Rum. [ and points a third time. ] Mixer. [ she smiles, bright and relaxed, then ends up scrunching here nose ] Come sit. I'll even make your first drink for you, if you want me to. [ "make you drink" is a very fancy way of saying "pour rum and coke into the same glass, at just about the same time, for an even split of booze to mixer ratio" ]
[ the air in the house feels thick with tension as he can almost sense the gears in nancy's brain turning. he knows the layout of this house, knows where those stairs lead, and even he feels a small sense of panic as he remembers the last time he was up there. the last thing he wants is for this to end up being awkward and messy and over before it even begins again.
so when she seems to reconsider that plan and settles on the basement, steve feels a sense of relief. he thought this would be easier, rekindling an old flame -- if that's even what nancy wants, because after everything he wouldn't be surprised if she's really just looking for a friend. and yes, steve thinks of the dream he's had, the one nancy has been in, but he recognizes that having nancy in his life at all is much more preferable to crashing, burning, and losing her completely.
so, basement it is. ]
Right, basement. Meet you down there. [ with one last coy smile, he leaves her to retrieve the bottles of liquor she had been hoarding in her room while he retreats down in the basement. as if this basement hasn't been central to planning attacks against interdimensional creatures before, and filled with memories of its own.
but it is comfortable, and it doesn't remind him of his years as king steve, and all of the regrets he has to his name as a result of his self-centered behavior. luckily, he's not left alone with his thoughts for very long, because soon enough nancy's voice brings him back down to earth, lazy smile on his lips and definitely not feeling nerves building up as he finds himself overthinking every single thing he's done to lead him up to this point. ]
Well, how can I say no to that? A rum and coke sounds great. [ his smile grows into a grin as he leans forward, because how can he not be charming when it comes to nancy? it's like muscle memory, like he knows all the steps and all his lines. ] I feel like I should be tipping the bartender.
[ it really is like muscle memory, nancy's realizing belatedly, because he's leaning and it's just this simple, subtle, steve thing, who has always had a penchant for getting away with being in her space in a way that must people can't, but... right now it's notable because she still doesn't shy away from it, even now. it doesn't make her sit a little taller or just move away entirely, the same way she does whenever people get in her personal space. it doesn't tug on some insecurity, or personal hangup of hers. it's steve harrington, and the way he looks at her, and the way she really--
really has to focus on not leaning in, too. shit.
they're already sitting side by side, close without feeling intrusive, but she still has to focus on not tucking herself against him, or wind her arm through his so she can mush her cheek against his arm, or bully her way under his arm so it drapes around her snugly, keeping her close, where she remembers just how comfortably she fits. she still would, she knows it, it doesn't matter that steve's, ah, built different now. that he's bigger. ( bigger? buffer? god, for a journalist, words are really escaping her right now. ) anyway, he's bigger, and she knows she'd still fit comfortably against him, but if anything that makes it even harder to resist thinking about what it might feel like now, to sit closer to him, or sit on his- ]
Nope! No tips necessary.
[ she reaches out to move one of those glasses in front of her, then grabs up both bottles - rum in her right hand, coke in her left, biting the tip of her tongue as she concentrates on angling them both right to give them an even pour from the bottom to the top of that glass. ..that's how people mix drinks, right? 50/50? nancy clearly did not attend any more parties, after tina's halloween party. once both bottles are back on the table, she sits back with a smile and that full drink in both hands, clearly very proud of herself. ]
[ it is a constant struggle for steve, not to give in. now with such close proximity and no interruptions by hive minds or six little nuggets, he can see all the ways nancy has changed, has grown up. the way her hair frames her face, makes her look so much older. and yet underneath it all, it's still the same nancy wheeler, the same girl he once (and maybe even still does) thought he'd spend the rest of his life with.
he watches as nancy pours well over a shot into his drink, and dons the most amused expression he can muster. he shakes his head fondly and accepts it, accepting his fate. clearly he has some catching up to do, and this is certainly one way to do that. ]
Why thank you, madame. [ he grins as he holds up his glass in a toast. ] To surviving hell together. [ it's far too easy to trace his journey from the moment he met nancy to now, sitting in a basement, toasting the end of the world with her and struggling to remember how to be just friends. but if he had to pinpoint a moment to change, he's not sure that he would, in the end. each heartbreak, each struggle, defines who he is today. and if he has to walk away tonight with the realization that he and nancy are only destined to be friends?
well, having nancy wheeler as a friend wouldn't be such a bad thing. ]
You mix a strong drink, Wheeler. [ His voice sounds a little strained as he takes small sips, because he doesn't want to get too messy. He knows he still has to be able to control himself a little bit while around her. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
this was a masterpiece 🥺
but he isn't about to leave her hanging, and regardless of where they currently stand, he is more than happy to just be there for her so she doesn't have to be alone. he doesn't know if this is about jonathan or if this is about those visions that vecna forced her to see, or if it's about barb, or the horrors that the mind flayer wreaked upon the small town of hawkins, indiana. it doesn't really matter what brought this on, because steve would have dropped everything to come to her aid regardless.
and as it turns out, steve has his own reasons for wanting to get drunk. because while nancy was dealing with slow-motion breakup, steve was coming to terms with robin spending more and more time with vickie. robin, who has recently decided she wants to go away to college and leave steve behind. and with dustin spending more and more time with eddie munson lately, seeing as how the latter miraculously survived. and how could steve try to come between any of these things?
the real kicker was finding out his parents were selling the house. sure, the market is shit, but why would they want to live in hawkins after everything? he hasn't told anyone this yet, has no fucking clue what he's going to do,
so yeah. getting drunk with nancy wheeler seems very much in order right now. ]
Hi yourself. [ but he can't help the small smile that creeps across his face just at seeing her. the smile that grows wider every second. ] Oh, I don't know about that. But I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to argue with the supplier of the alcohol. [ his face displays the shock he feels at her hand taking his, and he has to fight that familiar feeling bubbling up inside of him, forcing himself to remember the relief that nancy and jonathan shared at finding out they both made it out alive. even if he is very much aware that it was steve who she invited, and jonathan does not appear to be anywhere in the vicinity. ]
Lead the way? [ this house holds so many memories for steve that he can feel his breath get pulled right out of his throat as they start to resurface. dinners with her parents. the christmas where her mother presented him with the ugliest sweater and he had been more than happy to put it on then and there. sneaking into her bedroom to help her study. he tries to push the word bullshit out of sight and out of mind and focus on the here and now.
and maybe speeds up his pace just a little bit, because the quicker he catches up to nancy, the better. ]
you're too nice sheesh ty 🥺
sipping it through a straw doesn't exactly have the same dramatic effect as knocking back a shot's worth of booze with an easy tip of her head back, like in the movies, but that's okay. once her glass is empty, she's looking back up the stairs again, and with the way her hand tightens around his it probably makes it seem like she's decided to bring him up to her room after all, but- ]
Basement. [ it almost sounds like she was answering a question, but like. a question that nobody actually asked? because it was the question she was asking herself while trying to figure out where to lead him. oops. ] We should hang out in the basement. [ it's a pretty neutral space, right? yeah. and the couch is ridiculously comfortable, too. yeah. perfect. ] I'll meet you down there, okay? Just need to grab the stuff from my room.
[ the stuff, like it's something that needs to remain unspoken, and not just a couple of old bottles of booze. whatever. she nodnodnods, then finally lets go of his hand to wander up to her bedroom to get the goods. it's not too long of a wait before she's descending the stairs to the basement, even with the stop she made in the kitchen to grab steve a glass just like hers, and toss a couple of ice cubes into both for good measure. the big bottle of coke and the two bottles of booze rattle against each other in the bag she put them in to carry them down, but she doesn't seem too concerned about it. she doesn't seem concerned with anything right now, honestly. in fact, she seems pretty pleased with herself by the time she's looping around the small coffee table to take a seat on said comfy couch, then takes the bottles out one by one to line them up in front of her.
she points- ] Vodka. [ points again ] Rum. [ and points a third time. ] Mixer. [ she smiles, bright and relaxed, then ends up scrunching here nose ] Come sit. I'll even make your first drink for you, if you want me to. [ "make you drink" is a very fancy way of saying "pour rum and coke into the same glass, at just about the same time, for an even split of booze to mixer ratio" ]
no subject
so when she seems to reconsider that plan and settles on the basement, steve feels a sense of relief. he thought this would be easier, rekindling an old flame -- if that's even what nancy wants, because after everything he wouldn't be surprised if she's really just looking for a friend. and yes, steve thinks of the dream he's had, the one nancy has been in, but he recognizes that having nancy in his life at all is much more preferable to crashing, burning, and losing her completely.
so, basement it is. ]
Right, basement. Meet you down there. [ with one last coy smile, he leaves her to retrieve the bottles of liquor she had been hoarding in her room while he retreats down in the basement. as if this basement hasn't been central to planning attacks against interdimensional creatures before, and filled with memories of its own.
but it is comfortable, and it doesn't remind him of his years as king steve, and all of the regrets he has to his name as a result of his self-centered behavior. luckily, he's not left alone with his thoughts for very long, because soon enough nancy's voice brings him back down to earth, lazy smile on his lips and definitely not feeling nerves building up as he finds himself overthinking every single thing he's done to lead him up to this point. ]
Well, how can I say no to that? A rum and coke sounds great. [ his smile grows into a grin as he leans forward, because how can he not be charming when it comes to nancy? it's like muscle memory, like he knows all the steps and all his lines. ] I feel like I should be tipping the bartender.
AHHH i'm so sorry for the wait!!
really has to focus on not leaning in, too. shit.
they're already sitting side by side, close without feeling intrusive, but she still has to focus on not tucking herself against him, or wind her arm through his so she can mush her cheek against his arm, or bully her way under his arm so it drapes around her snugly, keeping her close, where she remembers just how comfortably she fits. she still would, she knows it, it doesn't matter that steve's, ah, built different now. that he's bigger. ( bigger? buffer? god, for a journalist, words are really escaping her right now. ) anyway, he's bigger, and she knows she'd still fit comfortably against him, but if anything that makes it even harder to resist thinking about what it might feel like now, to sit closer to him, or sit on his- ]
Nope! No tips necessary.
[ she reaches out to move one of those glasses in front of her, then grabs up both bottles - rum in her right hand, coke in her left, biting the tip of her tongue as she concentrates on angling them both right to give them an even pour from the bottom to the top of that glass. ..that's how people mix drinks, right? 50/50? nancy clearly did not attend any more parties, after tina's halloween party. once both bottles are back on the table, she sits back with a smile and that full drink in both hands, clearly very proud of herself. ]
Et voila.
lmao now it's my turn to apologize
he watches as nancy pours well over a shot into his drink, and dons the most amused expression he can muster. he shakes his head fondly and accepts it, accepting his fate. clearly he has some catching up to do, and this is certainly one way to do that. ]
Why thank you, madame. [ he grins as he holds up his glass in a toast. ] To surviving hell together. [ it's far too easy to trace his journey from the moment he met nancy to now, sitting in a basement, toasting the end of the world with her and struggling to remember how to be just friends. but if he had to pinpoint a moment to change, he's not sure that he would, in the end. each heartbreak, each struggle, defines who he is today. and if he has to walk away tonight with the realization that he and nancy are only destined to be friends?
well, having nancy wheeler as a friend wouldn't be such a bad thing. ]
You mix a strong drink, Wheeler. [ His voice sounds a little strained as he takes small sips, because he doesn't want to get too messy. He knows he still has to be able to control himself a little bit while around her. ]