Trial and Error

It Happens In Two's

The apartment had to be humid or something. Connie could swear the windows were fogging over so much the condensation was dripping from them. Her shirt felt like it was trapping heat against her body. She was so sweaty.

Things had gotten extremely tense between her and Steven for no apparent reason, and incredibly suddenly. They had to be careful not to touch each other it seemed. Every time they did it started to escalate into this ridiculous game that had no name because they both refused to acknowledge it outside of it happening.

It would start with something really small, like while they cooked together. When they'd started it was quiet too, but not like it was now.

This silence was loud.

He was on his way to the fridge, his face stoic and not noticing that she was passing to grab a few spices. His arm brushed against hers, so barely that it was the peach fuzz only. But it was enough to initiate the game.

She tingled, falling into that frame of mind easily and trying to fight the smile growing on her lips. There didn't need to be anything said, Steven always partook.

It was his fault, that meant it was her turn.

Adding the spices to the broth, she realized she was ready for the vegetables he was cutting. Her secret rule was she never initiated contact unless she was already headed that way. She had a feeling Steven played by the same rules.

"You're both living under a facade of self control," Jeanne had told her with her signature smirk she'd started having since they reached past a week. "You tell yourselves it's not wrong if it's accidental, and doing something on purpose would make it feel wrong when it's not. So it does make sense that things are sexually tense when you're that close to each other. How many months has it been?"

Ten. Jeanne had been right, it had become a Permanent Sleepover scenario. Every time something had come up. They'd lied to each other more times than she could count about why it wasn't time: the house was probably locked and he couldn't find his keys, or Connie's mother came down with a cold just as he was leaving or she'd just break down for no reason.

The first time the intensity became apparent enough to not be able to ignore it, Steven had been packing.

Connie watched, standing frozen with misery growing. "You missed something." She'd meant to toss the socks she'd gotten out of the wash gently, but it hit him square in the cheek.

A playful, mischievous smile erupted from his own darkened face and she could see him devising a plan.

A plan to stay.

He scoffed and chucked a pillow at her, which urged her to swat at him.

Steven caught her arm with a sure, warm to the touch hand and his eyes flickered between colors. He observed her nail polish, a color one may call pink if they weren't colorblind. Smirking, he caught her other arm before she could fake an irritated bat upside his head.

She pushed against him, knowing he was far stronger than her but found he was letting her push him back. As he leaned back further, he started slowly upping his resistance. "St-stop it! You can't use your— your gem powers!"

He made a sound she'd never heard, a tiny chuckle that stuck in her mind for weeks. It was sinister, and undoubtedly hungry for her. "I'm not using my gem powers yet. This is me using my gem powers."

She tried to pounce at him but he caught her weight easily and brought her a bit roughly to the floor, pinning her hard. "See? Very different."

"So not fair," She groaned, not at all talking about the wrestling and wiggling against him trying to find give. If she was being honest, and she refused to be, she wasn't trying hard at all. Steven had started working out, he was gaining muscle mass and she thought it was sexy that he was stronger than her so exponentially.