stranger things imagines.

holding hands and kissing cheeks

POSTED ON: steve-hairingtons

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It had been a long day. Work was kicking your ass, and to top it off, you and Steve had opposite work schedules. You were always off when he was working, and vice versa.

But on his twentieth birthday, you both asked off so you could spend time together. You'd gone out to eat and you insisted on paying, even though it was a battle to get the waitress to take your card instead of Steve's.

He held your hand as you drove home, and you just talked.

As soon as you two stepped through the door, his hands were on a bottle of wine. It didn't take long for him to become tipsy, while you were still mostly sober.

You sat in his bed reading a magazine while he changed into some comfy clothes, losing his balance a bit a couple of times.

He walked over to his record player and turned it on, softly playing music you didn't recognize. He turned to look at you and smiled.

"What?" you asked.

"Dance with me," he said quietly.

You chuckled. "What?"

"Dance with me, Y/N."

"God, you're a dork," you said as you closed the magazine and stood up to walked over to him. "And drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Just tipsy."

"Exactly. There's a difference."

You rolled your eyes and laughed again.

The music was calming and slow. It wasn't something you expected Steve to listen to, much less spend a couple of dollars on.

But he seemed to enjoy it. With his hands on your hips and yours on his shoulders, him looking down at you with loving eyes, and the both of you swaying slowly, it reminded you of your senior prom.

You two had only been dating about two weeks before he asked you to prom, and you obviously said yes. He picked you up at about seven o'clock in a dark red suit that matched your red dress. Your parents took loads of pictures, which you wound up hanging up in your room.

You showed up and the gym looked gorgeous. Steve got you a glass of punch and you danced to your hearts' delights until it was time for the slow dance.

It was awkward at first. The most you and Steve had done at that point was hold hands and sometimes he'd kiss your cheek.

You kind of just stood there looking at each other. He awkwardly placed his hands on your hips, and you placed yours on his shoulders. You smiled up at him and he returned the smile.

It was a few seconds later that he leaned in and touched his forehead to yours, and you felt your body tense up.

"Relax," he said quietly. And you did. It was only a few seconds after that when he kissed you. It was your first kiss, and it was good. You melted into his hands and you kissed for a few more seconds, and the song was over before you knew it.

That night he slept over at your house. Originally, he set up a sleeping bag on the floor, but he wound up in bed with you. It was admittedly very awkward at first, but when you wrapped your arm around him and tucked your head under his chin, you relaxed into each other and it became natural.

From then on, you spent very few nights apart. Then, in the blink of an eye, two years had gone by.

Which takes you back to his room, dancing with a semi-drunk Steve. His hands roamed up to your middle back before he leaned in and kissed you deeply. You kissed back before pulling away.

"Steve," you whispered.

"Mm?"

"I'm not having sex with you when you're tipsy."

"Ah, come on."

"No. I'd want you to do the same for me."

He looked at you and gave a small smile. "Okay."

Before long, you were laying in his bed with his arms around you, small kisses landing on your face and neck.

It was surprising how in love Steve was with you. He told you he loved you every single day, and reminded you that he was in love with you as often as he could.

At first, you were reluctant to accept that. To be completely honest, you didn't think you deserved it. Steve thought that was dumb, and that you were the perfect girl, so he reminded you of it often. Eventually, you learned to accept the praise, even loving it.

He connected your lips again before he laid his head down on his pillow. And that's how you fell asleep that night: Steve's arms hugging you tightly, your head tucked under his chin, and your legs tangled.