STRANGER THINGS IMAGINES

Fingers and Thumbs | Steve Harrington

SUMMARY: Steve has the most mesmerising hands, and no one can disagree!

WARNINGS: Slight ns/fw if you squint!

Steve Harrington was a man that seemed to be an image of the gods, no one could deny that. With a body that was tall, lean, toned and tanned, no wonder many of the high school students at Hawkins High fawned over the boy like he was a gift from heaven above. Because in reality, he was.

Yet, although most people focused on his face, and the hair that somehow always looked messy while being perfectly styled, you couldn't stop thinking about his damn hands. Made up of long fingers, skin marked with small moles and palms that could capture the world in their grasp, Steve's hands were sometimes all you could focus on, and he was beginning to notice.

You didn't know this, but he always found you watching his hands as he gripped onto the steering wheel in his car, always caught you placing kisses against the skin of his knuckles, tracing the length of his fingers with the tips of your own. And though you thought you were being subtle and he would never know, he couldn't help but let out the biggest grin when he caught you staring at his arms and hands as he leaned back on the couch and rested them on his thighs.

"What cha' looking at baby?" His voice caught you off guard, light-hearted and airy as he glanced down at you beside him, taking his eyes away from the movie that played on the television before you. You couldn't help but blush, cheeks warming a vibrant red as you looked away quickly and tried to hide the fact that you'd been staring at him.

"Nothing, I-I just thought I saw something in the window." The both of you knew that what you had just uttered out was a terrible lie, but Steve couldn't help but let out a chuckle, turning his body towards you and extending his hands out.

"Oh really? You were staring at something in the window?" He let his hand rest on your knee for a moment, a smug smirk forming on his lips as your breath hitched only slightly and you nodded meekly, trying to look anywhere but his hands or his face. "Well, you know what I think you were actually looking at baby? I think you were looking at my hands." He grabbed you around your waist then and hoisted you onto his lap, your legs framing around his waist as his hands came to rest on your hips.

All you could think about was the fact that you'd been caught, that your little secret was out and there was nowhere to hide as he grinned down at you, taking a hand from your waist and peering at it curiously.

"So, what's got you looking at my hands? They're just hands." He kept peering at them for a moment before glancing at you with a look of confusion on his face, and that was when it hit you. He didn't get it. Well then, if he didn't get it, you were going to show him.

You took his hand in yours then, running your thumb over the lines in his palm, tracing the small scars he had over his knuckles, touching the tips of his fingers, and for a moment, you just sat there and smiled.

"Look, this is going to sound insane, but these hands aren't just hands, Steve. They've been through hell and back, they've saved people lives, they're scared and stained and sometimes bruised, and though your pinky might be a little bit crooked and your pointer finger is slightly bent, these are still the most beautiful hands in the world." You let both of your hands slide over his then, watching him as the corner of his lips lifted slightly at your words, his gaze catching yours and a look of love and devotion clouding his features.

"I've never thought about it like that..." His words were a soft whisper, and you quickly smiled at him until you placed a kiss against his palm, lips coming in contact with soft skin and he let out a little breath, mouth falling open slightly as he watched you.

"I know you haven't, but believe me, babe, these hands are so precious and perfect. Plus, you're pretty skilled with them too when you need to be." You let that statement hang in the air as you smirked up at him, leaning in to place a kiss on his lips and letting his hands latch back onto your waist, pulling you to him.

"Well then, if they're so perfect and skilled, how about I put them to work?" He pressed himself into you then, hand coming up to cradle your cheek as he moved his hips slightly against yours, another hand coming down to frame your bottom, and at that point, you couldn't help but moan as his hand kneaded and pressed against the fabric of your pants.

All he could think about at this moment, was that his hands were doing this, his hands were pulling those sweet noises from your mouth and they were making you move against him like you couldn't get enough. And suddenly, he understood everything, and soon he was running the hand that cradled your cheek down your chest and to your stomach, before slipping under your shirt and swiping a finger over one of your nipples, making you cry out in shock.

Hours later, the two of you laid in bed together, both on your sides and facing each other, one of his hands clasped in yours as the other one traced shapes on your bare waist.

"You know, I get what you mean when you said that my hands are special." You looked up at him as his tired voice cut through the calm silence, taking in his relaxed features and how his eyelashes cast shadows over his cheeks.

"What do you mean?" You moved closer to him, your naked bodies pressing against each other under the blankets and your chests rose and fell with every breath.

"I didn't think they were special, but I guess they are since I made you cum twice with just my fingers and thumb."

You laughed loudly into his chest then, grinning a tired grin as you ran a hand through his hair, shaking your head at the boy. He couldn't help but look down at you fondly, pressing a kiss to your forehead and letting out a bright smile.

"Sure, Steve, that's why they're so special." He chuckled and kissed you softly, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders and resting his forehead against yours.

He always thought his hands were insignificant, just another body part that could be broken, cut, bruised and burned. He always thought that they were just meant to hold things and carry things. He never thought they could be used to love someone, to make them feel good and safe. But here the both of you were, intertwined in each other all because to you his hands were perfect and precious and beautiful, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

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This is the first piece in my new collection called The Body Series, which is a collection of small pieces admiring and appreciating different body parts, like arms, legs, chests, lips, hands and so on. Doing it for just Jonathan and Steve for now!

Thanks, Will x