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palmtreesx3 · 10 months

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GET OFF - The V-Card

The V-Card

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Summary: (3.7k) Everyone is nervous for their first time, right? Steve and Robin are busy tackling a lot of their firsts - first day in the shop, first week in the city, first friends (or something) in the city. It’s all a little intimidating and both quickly find that old habits die hard - particularly for Steve. It’s going to take more than just a new city to really give these two a new life. Be sure to read the Prologue before reading!

Warnings: it's a sex shop, guys - so it's generally just NSFW 18+. In this AU Hawkins is weird and cannon events happen to some extent, but not to all familiar characters. If they are present in Chicago for this AU, they have no ties to Hawkins. Absent parents, excessive drinking, poor coping mechanisms, M/F hookups and implied/light smut, mentions of female oral, our boy on his King Steve shit, one night stands, careless hookups, and a coming out.

Shout out to @loveshotzz for the blatant Whatta Man nod in this chapter. IYKYK.

Chicago: That Saturday, 1993

The sun was beating in through the front apartment window as Steve sat on the couch with a can of High Life, taking a breather from all of the unpacking. He has been hyper-focused all weekend on getting settled and unpacked - a complete 180° from Robin's settling in approach, which looked more like making sure her sheets were on her bed and simply ignoring the rest of the boxes stacked up inside her doorway than anything else.

For a split second Steve considered picking up the phone and calling home just to check in, let his parents know they've got their bearings and are all safe in the city, but as that thought settled, he realized how absolutely ridiculous it was. They never cared where he was and what he was doing before, so there's no reason for them to actually start caring now that he's finally gone. Worming it's way deep in his brain another thought occurs to him - if he just would have packed up and left, it probably would have taken them months to even realize it.

Plus, the second he talks to either one of them he knows they're going to ask about a job, and he's not quite ready for how that conversation might go. Yeah Dad, we're all set, start at the sex shop 10am on Monday! He shakes his head and laughs to himself at the thought before throwing his head back letting the beer, just starting to warm and lose its crispness, run down his throat. It's tasting a bit bitter now…and Steve can relate.

Pulling him from his self-deprecating thoughts, Robin swings open the door with the sound of jangling key chains being shaken like maracas, the soundtrack to her grand entrance.

"Got your keeeeys, Dingus! It's officially official now!" She tosses the key ring over to Steve, who has his eyebrows raised as they land about 5 ft to his left on the other side of the couch.

"Nice one, Robs. Maybe one day we'll find you some aim."

"Long shot, buddy. Better chance of me confidently shooting my shot with Stevie Nicks than that ever happening. But good on you for thinking I have any potential whatsoever."

"S'wat friends are for, Robbie." He grins at her sideways before leaning over to pick up his new set of keys. "The hell is this?" He asks, dangling the keys up in the air.

Hopping up and down with incredibly youthful glee, Robin beams at the boy and exclaims "A TAMAGOTCHI. I got one too. Orange for you. Blue for me. Pretty sure even if we could have a pet in this building it wouldn't end well, so I got us these!"

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe you got us a toy." Robin slips on the couch nestled up close to Steve, pressing the button on both to initiate their hatching as she presses her shoulder into his side. A beat of silence goes by before he throws his arm over her shoulders and says, "Show me how to do it, Robs. Can't wait for mine to outlive yours." He smiles down at her.

"Eat shit. Whoever kills theirs first buys the other a drink."

The twinkling sound signaling the hatching of each of their eggs echoes through the apartment as they eye up their pets and glare back at one another.

"Oh, it's on. Never been more confident about a deal before in my life."

"Speaking of drinks … " Robin muses. " Whaddya wanna do tonight? "

Steve's not quite sure how long it's going to take for him to get used to the sheer quantity of people here in Chicago. He's pretty sure there's as many people in this club right now than there is in the whole of Hawkins.

When they arrived, Steve was feeling a lot. It was overwhelming and nothing in Hawkins flashed so bright and shook so loud… except maybe the 4th of July Carnival and their fireworks on the outskirts of town, but that was nothing compared to this.

One drink in and finding a place to hunker down near the bar at a table, he felt more comfortable. He was enjoying Robin's running commentary while she spent the better part of an hour people-watching, still passively feeling the heat radiating off of the dance floor, when he decided to switch over from the lukewarm beers to a sweet and sharp whiskey and soda.

Three drinks in and sufficiently loose, Robin is fluttering around the edges of the bar and the dance floor - now making friends with some of the people she's been eying up all night with her inhibitions down as far as Steve has ever seen them. He's drunkenly grinning at his friend, happy to see a kind of social side of her that feels new, even though he knows the roots of it have been buried deep inside her for her whole life, interwoven through her heart and her brain stem, just waiting for permission to come out and untangle itself.

"Steve! STEVE!" She shouts over the thumping bass of the music, wildly gesturing for him to come over to where she now stands, in the center of a group of people who look friendly enough for him to oblige.

Four drinks in and now the group is laughing, hollering and leaning in hard to catch an ounce of what the others are saying. Steve's eyes are squinting trying hard to read their new friends lips as they try and converse over shots and the loud music in the dark. Turns out Robin found a whole group of people that live in the same building as they do and, as one does when they're absolutely shit faced, they all immediately began talking about how they're all new best friends, curling arms around one another's necks and slurring "I love you guys" over drinks number five and six.

Steve is feeling a familiar twinge. It's not his fault that he has no idea that there are ways to make friends other than people pleasing or trauma bonding. Now relishing in the ease of finding city-friends over an open drink and the immediacy of acceptance that comes with puffing out his peacock feathers and playing the delicate social hierarchy game he mastered in his teens, he barely even notices that he's dusting off his King Steve party tricks. The stress of the last few years that have him wound up tighter than a watch melt away as the coy and flirty remarks start flowing like a waterfall and the locker room talk comes back like riding a bike.

Six drinks down the hatch and Robin can't find Steve. Any other time, and Robin would be absolutely losing all the marbles in her basket worrying over Steve. Especially in this new city. She'd assume he was dead. That someone finally came to whisk him away and lock him up for all the things that he's not supposed to know. Sure, Steve can handle things. He's definitely the most capable person she knows and he quite literally raised himself, and saved himself more than once, but none of that even matters right now because she's just swaying to the beat of Janet Jackson pumping through the club speakers with her new soulmates who live on the top floor.

Instead Steve is at the bar, queuing up drink number seven for him and drink number who-knows-what for the absolutely smoking girl at his side named Melissa, who apparently lives just up the staircase, too. She's reminded him three times so far that he can just call her Missy, but not without leaning in close, just next to his ear to make sure he hears just how sweet she sounds. And boy does he want to know more about how sweet she sounds.

Steve's eager hands are hooked in her belt loops, the girl's bright red tube top riding up her stomach as she pushes herself into him. Her fingers are tangling through his sweaty hair and his are ghosting over her collarbone and down her arm. His lips are on hers before drink seven is even delivered, so he caps off his night with her tongue down his throat instead.

He has no clue what time it is as they tumble through the apartment door, Melissa Missy still giggling at his orange Tamagotchi keychain as his lips chase hers once again and the door slams shut. Perfect. Robin's not home, he thinks. Completely forgetting he was there at the club with her in the first place, he tugs at the girls long blond hair at the roots, runs his hands over her glistening and glittered shoulders and shoves her down into his plush comforter the second they reach his bedroom.

He's so caught up in this big-city hottie he managed to get into his bed on his first weekend in town, he doesn't hear Robin come in the door, nor does he notice her clanging around the kitchen to chug down a few huge glasses of water in hopes of being at least a little conscious tomorrow morning. Robin, however, does notice Steve clanging around the bedroom, especially after she hears a deep and throaty moan that is unmistakably female.

"Ha. Fuck yeah, Stevie. Losing that Windy City V-Card." She says quietly while wobbling to her room. Meanwhile, Steve's got his head buried deep under the sheets, blindly grasping at the girl's perky tits while he lavishes at the thought of this being the kind of opportunities that present themselves here in Chicago. His first time in this big sprawling city made him feel like he was on top of the world.

The confident bubble he found himself in all night popped when he later woke to feel the warm summer breeze from the open window tickling his now exposed back, comforter slipping down and exposing his hips along with a peek of his ass to the girl who was accidentally pulling it off as she stood up from the bed. Unabashedly naked, she stretches her arms in a yawn, Steve rolls to peek at the clock. 4:36am. "Where are you off to?" his raspy, sleep laden voice cuts the silence as she finds herself caught gathering her things. "Are you try'n't sneak out on me?" He mumbles with a smile, thinking he's being flirty and cute.

"That's exactly what I'm doing, hon." She winks, as she snags her cheeky hot pink thong off the back of his desk chair and shoves it in her pocket on the way out the bedroom door. "I'll be quiet on my way out. Don't worry. Maybe I'll see ya around. Maybe I won't. It was fun though. You were a KING with that tongue so I wouldn't be opposed…but it's honestly unlikely."

And Steve is there, left tangled and alone and feeling stone cold sober after that dose of honesty from Melissa, left wondering if this is how all the girls back in Hawkins felt after he dipped out on them. Having his fun but knowing it wouldn't go any further than that. Getting off under Skull Rock, in the back of his BMW, atop their pink frilly pillows with their parents in the room next door - all hanging on to the hope of just a little more - the potential of being needed and wanted and good enough for the likes of King Steve, but waking up empty and disposable instead. If he didn't already hate himself before, he definitely does now.

"Sooooo." Robin sings out, while twirling her spoon through her milky cereal. "We gonna talk about that little Bedroom Rodeo last night or what?"

"Robin. Please. It's too early for this." He presses his palms into his eyes, trying to stave off the pulsing just beyond his sinuses. "and did you just say Bedroom Rodeo? The fuck?"

"Well, yeah. Bedroom Rodeo… ya know. Crushing the buns? Two person pushups? Horizontal Tango? Please tell me with all that racket you at least got off?"

"Ew Rob, where the fuck are you coming up with these?" He looks at her as she shrugs, slurping the last of her sweet cereal milk straight from the bowl as she did it. "This may be shocking, but… probably the most annoying thing you've ever said. Crushing the buns? Are you serious?" he says as he walks over and face plants dramatically onto the couch.

Rolling over to his back and sliding on the wire rims of the glasses he never lets anyone but Robin see him in, the apartment comes into focus and so does his best friend, sitting at the counter grinning from ear to ear while tugging up her eyebrows to him in a taunt, chomping on her cereal and looking far to comfortable in his own goddamn yellow sweatshirt. His hand jutting out abruptly and gesturing to her morning attire with a furrowed brow and a questioning look, she says absolutely nothing in response. "Are you serious? Get your own clothes!"

"Eh, yours was already unpacked and my box of cozy stuff is on the bottom. I didn't get to it yet." She says casually.

“Yeah okay. The box pile huh? Well don’t think we’re going to be sharing everything around here.”

To which he watches her lips curl up in a Cheshire cat grin as she responds “Aw man, not even the ladies?”

He hates this already.

"Need some coffee, tiger? Probably a little sluggish after testing out that mattress."

His groan was loud at that one. "ROBIN! "

"Fine, I'll leave you alone…for now. But we're gonna talk about some rules for when we're Jamming the Clam later over a smoke, ya got me? Roommate ground rules at all." She winked as she sauntered down the hallway to her room.

"Sure Robbie. Whatever you want. But do me a favor… if you're so goddamn chipper this morning maybe you can unpack a freaking box from that mega-pile. Won't be bringing back some hot piece to your room to Jam the Clam in that fuckin' disaster zone!" He shouts at her back.

Throwing up a peace sign and swaying her hips a little more (albeit awkwardly) she makes a show of acknowledging her friends request before shutting her bedroom door behind her.

"Robin, right? And… " Murray looks at him up and down.

"Steve" the boy scowls.

"Wow. Okay then. Cheer up Rico Suave. Robin! You didn't tell me your friend had this much charisma when you stopped by last week."

Murray Bauman is the manager of The Hideout. Maybe he owns the place, it's not entirely clear, but what is immediately crystal is that Murray is always ready to dish it out. "Alright then, welcome to The Hideout. I wanted to name it Murray's Pleasure Emporium but that got shot down pretty fuckin fast by my partner, so it is what it is."

With his salt-and-pepper hair, neatly groomed yet slightly disheveled, and a well-maintained beard framing his jawline, Murray's appearance hints at a man who has seen his fair share of adventures. Despite his brash exterior it's quickly clear that Murray effortlessly creates a comfortable atmosphere, so it's no wonder he finds himself successful in an environment where he can push boundaries and help others to explore their fantasies and fulfill their desires.

"So here's how this is gonna work. You two are gonna work retail. You'll need to run the register, oversee the displays, manage the inventory and help the customers. Peace-a cake, right?" He spurts off while simultaneously counting the money in the register for the day.

Robin and Steve spit out a garbled acknowledgement while Murray looks back and forth between the two. "Red, did you say you two were... roommates?"

"Uh, yeah. Why?"

Eyes knocking back and forth to look between the two friends, Steve can already see where this is going. Been there a thousand times. So he cuts off Murray's silent analysis and offers up the information needed to satisfy his curiosity. "No, we aren't dating. And .. ah ah. Wait." He cuts him off as Murray starts to open his mouth, ready to counter back "...and NO, before you go there, we aren't fucking either. Didn't happen. Won't happen. Platonic."

"With a capital P." Robin finishes the end of Steve's sentence. "We can't promise we won't be weird, but we can one hundred percent promise there will not be any lovers quarreling with us."

"Well alright then. Loud and clear." Murray says in response. He claps his hands loudly and rubs them together before continuing on with his sex shop monologue.

"Back to business, then. Covered the retail bits - Ah, yeah here we go. As you can see, the shop offers an extensive selection of adult toys, lingerie for the ladies…or the men, sensual massage oils - a personal favorite - and other products that cater to a wide range of tastes and sexual preferences. I like the good stuff, because I have taste. So that's what I sell. I also like to have all the latest shit because I'm progressive. Call me sexually innovative, if you will. If it's new, we're gonna have it."

Steve and Robin follow dutifully behind him taking it all in. Robin's eyes are as wide as saucers and she's distracted by all of the things she does not yet understand as Murray continues to spout out information on products, business and his own personal sexual philosophies. Steve poked her shoulder and she grimaces, and returns to planet earth to hear the rest of Murray's great new hire speech.

"The people who come in here are not sex freaks. You got that? They're normal people. Don't gotta be some pervert to want to get off and feel good, so if you can't be open-minded and nonjudgmental then you might as well not even clock in after this. Got it?"

Both nod in agreement and the edges of Murray's lips curl up in a smirk. "Perfect. Come." He directs as he walks to the register and it's adjoining display case where a wide array of colorful dildos stand spread out for selection.

"Not that it's a job requirement or anything but, I'm assuming if you're wanting to work here and my pleasure palace your… ahem.. sufficiently experienced. Cause you're gonna need to sell the product if you get my drift. People have way more questions than you could imagine. Just yesterday I had to tell a kid that Anal Beads are, in fact, for your anus..."

Robin's mouth is aghast. Steve looks around again taking it all in and he finally laughs at Murray, who is looking them over as if he can't believe these two kids standing here in front of him know anything about the kind of sex he sells. "Listen, Murray. I didn't set out to move here to this city and work in a shop full of dildos. Surprisingly, my incredibly inexperienced friend here signed me up against my will to hawk condoms like morning coffee. Robin doesn't know shit - sorry Robs, but you don't." She shrugs her shoulders, looking at Murray and nods in agreement at her friends words. "And while I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that I'm not what you might consider all that adventurous, I've got more notches than I'm proud of and unlike most guys I can find a girl's clit. SO… I'd appreciate it if you stopped talking to me like this is 6th grade health class and let us get to work."

"I have very little to add." Robin says, "and after what I heard the other night, I'll attest to what Steve says. He sure can make 'em moan."

Murray stands behind the counter looking Steve up and down. He lets out a loud, boisterous laugh into the still air of the shop before he starts again "Well then, Steve. I can respect that. I think you both are going to be a mess, but I can work with it... So let's hop to it."

Beyond the merchandise, the pair learn that Murray hosts educational workshops and events at The Hideout for its patrons and the community and often has specials and promos going inside for shoppers. After the first half of their day, it's clear that Murray runs a business that he is proud of and his customers are loyal. Steve decides that when people ask, he's just going to tell them he works retail. Because he in fact… does.

As their training winds down, Murray comes out of his back office carrying a giant tray and welding some embarrassing dance moves as he delivers it delicately to the counter. "Hey, hey, hey assholes! Before we head out, we have to set up this display for tomorrow. Let's rock and roll my friends!" Robin scans the contents of the tray curiously, not so sure how all of the items fit together to make anything that resembles a display. "Uh, okay but like… what is it?" She says.

Steve snickers as he takes in the tray full of cupcakes, bananas and condoms. "Well Robbie, despite what it looks like I don't think Murray is letting us set up snack time. I'm not sure what the cupcakes are for, but these here look like they're to practice getting the condoms on the banana."

"Bingo! Rico Suave gets the points! We're doing a condom demo tomorrow, so he's right on that. What he's wrong about though, is that the cupcakes ARE for a snack." Murray fist bumps Steve and turns to see Robin's gears turning at maximum speed.

“What’s the matter, first time, Red?” Murray spits out, through a wide gleaming smile that Steve swears sparkles in the light, like some goddamn cartoon.

"Actually.. ." She draws out "while I don't have the clit-finding prowess of my friend Steve here, I only strive to one day be able to eat pussy as well as he apparently can. So yes, this is my first time sliding on a condom, thank you very much."

Murray nods and his grin never ceases, although now there's a bit more approval and admiration than taunt behind it. "C'mon then, lemme show you how to slide these on like a fuckin pro."

Steve is beaming watching his friend speak so casually about it. Murray really is good at what he does and making people feel comfortable, or this city really is just what Robin needs, either way, the way Murray doesn't skip a beat and starts teaching Robin the art of rolling on a condom like it's just any old day makes Steve think about how many wild things they're going to get into here. And honestly it's all fine, because there’s a first time for everything.

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🏷️ TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss

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palmtreesx3 · 10 months

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ACT 4 GOING ALL THE WAY - Steve’s Chapter OUT NOW!!!!

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

Summary: Steve and Robin have about had it with Hawkins, so on Robin's 25th birthday, the pair decides that there's nothing holding them there anymore and they start packing their bags. The friends move to Chicago and quickly find an apartment to call their own. As luck would have it, within hours of arriving to the city, Robin stumbles on a no-strings-attached job offer for both of them - what could be better?! Now just to break the news to Steve…. This multi part story will both explore their platonic relationship and their chaotic experience working at the sex shop together as well as their own paths of self discovery as they plant their roots in their new city and finally deal with the invisible baggage they drug along with them when they moved.

Warnings: Eventual smut (f/m, f/f and both m+f masturbation); a whole lot of sex talk, sex toys and NSFW topics; LGBTQ+ but in the late 80s/early 90s; inexperienced Robin; reformed King Steve; exploring topics or implied reference of ADHD and anxiety. Some non cannon in this AU but cannon themes and Easter eggs a-plenty. Chapter specific warnings will be included.

Prologue (7.9.23)

The-V-Card (7.14.23)

Act 1: Foreplay - Aphrodisiac (Robin’s Chapter) (7.24.23)

Act 2: Exploration - Lube (Steve’s Chapter) (8.18.23)

Act 3: Getting Lucky - Praise Kink (Robins Chapter) (10.16.23)

Act 4: Going All the Way - Queening (Steve’s Chapter) (1.26.24)

Act 5: Right on the Edge

Act 6: Climax

Aftercare

Acts will be comprised of separate Steve and Robin-centric Chapters, but they will not be standalone stories. They are co-existing. Bits and bobs of Steve’s storyline and character development will occur during Robin-centric chapters and visa-versa. These two are co-dependent, just like our favorite guy and gal.

Extras Below the cut!

Playlist

Click Here to get in the mood!

Mood Boards

Prologue

The-V-Card

Act 1: Foreplay - Aphrodisiac (Robin’s Chapter)

Act 2: Exploration - Lube (Steve’s Chapter)

Act 3: Getting Lucky - Praise Kink (Robin’s Chapter)

Act 4: Going All the Way - Latex (Steve’s Chapter)

Act 5: Right on the Edge

Act 6: Climax

Aftercare

Blurbs

Yeah, I know I’ll write these, too... I hav too many head-cannons already piled up for these two in this AU. Don’t hesitate to share your thots or questions with me on these two and you may get yourself a little freebie in your bag straight from the sex shop.

*AU Note: Cannon events from their past are still laced in their character experience. Hawkins is weird and they have experienced Upside Down related events, however not to all characters you know and love. If characters exist in Chicago in this AU, they’re not connected to Hawkins.

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palmtreesx3 · 6 months

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Act 3 - Getting Lucky

Praise Kink (Robin's Chapter)

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Series Summary: (11.2k) Fall is settling in in the Windy City, and Steve and Robin are swept up in their overthinking. The pair are left to their own devices at the shop while Murray is off traveling to Sex Toy conventions. Robin and Alex have grown closer and are the perfect pair, but Robin’s growing a bit of a complex because the relationship isn’t quite a s reciprocal as she’d like, so she calls in the reserves to give her the tutorial she needs to overcome her trepidation and dive right in. In order to repay Steve for his thorough tutorial, the girls start to meddle, because if they can see one thing, it’s that Steve loves a good self-sabotage. Everyone’s a little concerned over the opinions of others and seeking praise and reassurance in all the wrong places, so grab a cozy blanket, be a good girl and enjoy this chapter of Get Off.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, dildos of all variety, sexual innuendo aplenty, eating pussy and explicit descriptions of said act, dirty talk and praise kink, allusions to jerking off.

“I swear to Christ. ROB! I know you have it!” Steve shouts out as he’s pacing through the apartment corridor looking everywhere but nowhere all at once. The pacing was more of a nervous habit, looking like a mother who is trying to walk off her frustration before she loses her cool on her lovely, doe eyed child after they broke the expensive family vase. Speaking from experience as the boy who knocked over said vase…he’s probably picked up a few mannerisms from his mother, now that he thinks about it. Back when she had time for him. He shakes his head in annoyance - at Robin and his childhood - hands flailing in the air above his head “You gotta fuckin stay out of my closet!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Steve.” Her head pops out of the bathroom, looking down the hall at her friend who is zipping between his room and hers.

“You still have BOXES in there Robin. BOXES. We’ve lived here six months. SIX. We’ve gone through an entire season. It’s fall now. Please for the love of God, unpack your things. How do you find anything in there?”

“I know where my things are, thank you very much. I just happen to enjoy some of the things from your closet, so sue me.”

Steve is exasperated with his friend. He has been dealing with Robin encouraging him to spend every last extra dollar he has after bills, beers at Benny’s and whatever else they do to fill their time to buy new clothing because his “style is like a billboard asking for abstinence in this city,” yet she is sticking her nose in there every other day stealing pieces of clothing he’s had for years. “One man’s trash is another lesbian’s treasure” she tells him every time he bitches about the double standard.

“I fuckin told you. Hands off the yellow sweater. Off limits. That and this jacket….they’re NOT getting traded in. They are not fair game. Got it?” he’s glaring at her, one hand on his hip, the other holding up a steely gray Members Only jacket she still can’t believe hasn’t been ruined from all of the bullshit it’s been through back at home.

“Yeah yeah, It’s a great layering piece, can you even blame me? How do you even still have that thing, anyway? Like, how wasn’t it ruined after Billy clocked you right in the nose?”

“ROBIN. SHUT UP!” he shouts, storming off to his room to get ready for their shift.

“Love you too, Dingus!”

Robin finishes readying herself for their afternoon at work, stepping out of the bathroom after perfectly smudging her imperfect eye pencil and adding a red lip that rivals the auburn in her hair. Fiery undertones just like the girl. Her lips, her hair, her personality - they all match her new red Doc Martin boots that she’s really just awful complaining about. She heard all about it - how hard it was to break those fuckers in. Got some tips from the Queens at The Rainbow Room that she’s gone back to now for shows numerous times since that first night. Alex asked her upwards of 10 times if she was sure she wanted them and if she was ready for the commitment to breaking them in so they don’t lay dead like a fashion sacrifice at the back of her closet. Told Steve all about how she was going to push through and how it couldn’t be that bad.

Well…it was. It was that bad - and Robin is not built to stick it out. She’s not formulated to power through. The problem is, she wants to wear them. Needs to wear them. They look good. So she settles on the only thing she’s ever been able to do to distract her from her pain (emotional and physical) and that’s: Never shut up and complain about it non-stop but only to Steve and take her entire bad mood out on Steve. Needless to say…Steve is tired.

Steve is in the kitchen, two brown bags perched on the counter top. “Apple or banana Robbie?” he asks, holding up one of each in the air. “Banana. Definitely.” she smirks, as he tosses it in the bag, labeled with scrawling chicken scratch Robin along the front in pen. She leans against the counter as he wraps up two sandwiches, tosses in some snacks and folds over the bag before handing it to her.

“Thanks mom.”

Steve doesn’t grace her with a response. He just rolls his eyes as he tosses on his jacket and grabs his keys. “Let’s go, loser. And don’t drag your feet in those boots. Pick them up and fuckin walk. We got a shift to get to.”

The lock clanks as Steve opens up the front door and clicks on the neon sign in the window to designate the shop is open for business. Murray handed Steve the keys last week before he headed off to Las Vegas for an annual Adult Industry Product Conference. Showed Steve the brochure for Sensual Revolution '93 and told him "Maybe I'll bring ya along next year, big boy. Just take care of my baby while I'm gone and you never know! I might just upgrade you from Sex Shop Employee to Sex Shop Supervisor."

Not that Steve had aspirations to move up in the world of The Hideout and make a career out of it, but if Steve could tide off his father a little longer by being able to tell him that he's a Retail Supervisor that might buy him a little more time without hearing about how bullshit his work is.

"We're open Rob! I'm gonna go restock the shelves in the back."

"Yeah buddy. I got the register! I still can't believe that massive rush on massage oils last week. I still wanna know what sparked that… " she trails off.

Everything seems fine for the rest of the morning until the loud hiss of a massive delivery truck arrives out front, blocking up the narrow lanes of the city streets, horns honking and shouts out the passenger side windows starting immediately. Robin perks up, setting all four legs of her wooden stool back on the ground.

“Uh, Dingus? Are we expecting a delivery?”

“No…what are you talking about Robin?” Steve shouts from his spot, crouched down in the back stocking the lower shelves. He hears the bell ding, and just as he stands up to peer out and what’s going on he sees the delivery hat of a man at the counter and the expansive vista of the biggest delivery truck he’s ever seen show up at the shop covering every inch of space their front windows have to offer.

Robin's eyes widen as she reads the delivery slip, "Urgent: Assorted dildos for The Hideout."

She bellows out a laugh, not once looking up from the packing slip she still holds in her hands. “Steve. The man says you need to sign for these.”

“What the fuck is it Rob?” And with that, she silently extends the paper out to her friend. He snatches it quickly as she holds back her chuckling, rumbles leaving her nose that emanates in the back of her throat. His eyes scan the form until he gets to the bottom, reading the slip he does a double take. with an unexpected, jaw-dropping inventory of various dildos, more than they could ever imagine.

“I’m not…I can’t sign for this! He didn’t say a goddamn thing about any delivery let alone this! It can’t be right. Nope…. I…no.”

Steve’s still rambling a bit as he walks out the front door to the truck, along with the driver. Robin’s lips are curled up in a permanent smile as she chomps on her doublemint gum, getting the worlds biggest kick out of watching Steve pacing back and forth on the concrete, hands alternating between flailing in the air and resting on his hips in a stance that looks both like dominance and defeat all wrapped into one.

Before long, Steve comes barreling through the front door, pushed open by force with both hands, finding them raised up by his ears in surrender and shaking his head in irritation. “They’re bringing them in Rob. It’s 10 pallets. 10 PALLETS OF DILDOS. I don’t even know where we’re gonna stick all these dicks. Jesus.”

“TEN? What the fuck? What happened?”

“Apparently Murray’s having a grand old time in Vegas. Did a little bulk ordering at the conference. Got them shipped direct and told the company Harrington’s got em.” his face scrunches up as he mocks Murray’s intonations.

“No…it’s fine. It’s cool. We’ve got it. We’ll figure it out.”

“Steve…for two people who have never handled that much dick in their entire lives, I’m a little skeptical.”

“No, no…if Murray were here…what stupid shit would he have us doing?”

And with that, Steve sets off. He immediately figures that Murray would be blasting off directions for him to unload the goods, so after ripping open the wrapping of the pallets himself…he instead naturally gives that job to Robin. Figuring Murray wants to offload the old inventory, Steve gets some sale information ready and decides to mark down everything on the floor - sure as shit that Murray got some new and improved models, fancier faux cocks, better colors, better…whatever bells and whistles. He doesn’t care really…he just needs to make room.

After running off a huge stack of flyers on the copier in Murray’s office, he tells Robin he’s heading out. With a groan from the girl that echoed in the storeroom, he promised he’d return with a fresh cup of coffee and her favorite muffin if she’d just shut the fuck up about it. “But Steeeve” she groans “I can’t look at any more of these. Look at this one! It’s an actual monster cock. It’s got tentacles!”

“Aw, ew, gross.” his nose scrunches up and he turns on the balls of his feet, the new black chucks already fading a bit since they’re suddenly all he’s wearing - the red swoosh of his Nike Cortez’ tucked back a little further in his closet than they’d ever have been before. He jogs out the front door, stack of thin copy papers tucked as best he can under his arms,

It’s a warm fall day today, sun heating up the streets in the warmth of the afternoon, as he maneuvers the busy city sidewalks, tails of his unbuttoned shirt trailing behind him, a well-worn black band t-shirt he picked up from the Goodwill downtown tucked into his denim. He almost didn’t pay any mind to the shirt as he scoured for his size in the bin laid out before him, but threw it on top of his pile anyway after reading the band scrawled across the front - Pearl Jam.

Steve’s on a mission. He’s trying to get down the street to some of their notorious partners so he can tack up a flyer on their community board, or leave a stack of them at their bar or with the bouncer. Anywhere he knows won’t turn up their nose at a rudimentary flyer boasting discounted dildos. He makes a mental note to insist that Hopper and Joyce leave some on the bar at Benny’s even though he knows at least Hopper will bitch about it nonstop. He knows Joyce’ll look at him like a doting mama before scowling at her counterpart and telling the boy Whatever you need, honey.

He doesn’t see you until you’re right on top of him, and to be fair, you didn’t see him either. So when your chests connect in a thump and everything the both of you are carrying falls to the gritty sidewalk, both of your first instincts are to bitch about it. “What the fuck is your problem man, y’wanna watch where you’re going next time?” you scowl.

Before he could even get the snarky words out of his mouth, he says your name and you snapped out of it in an instant. “Oh God, Steve. It’s you! Sorry, I…I’m just in a fuckin’ mood today. I’m knee deep in midterms and I really just don’t want to read another essay about family dynamics and how my dads expectations really fucked me up - y’know?”

“Yeah, oh I know. I mean, not about the grading essays thing, but…about the dads expectations fucking you up. That part I can relate to. Not the smartie pants stuff.”

“Ok, well…” Your eyes roam up and down his face, seeing how scatterbrained he looks, now crumpled wads of paper crushed up against his chest. “We’ll unpack that little tidbit another time, then. Haven’t seen you in a few weeks. Maybe some coffee again? That shop by your place was nice last time we met up. Good music spinning, so - y’know they got me hooked.”

Steve nods in agreement. After that night in the cab, you’ve seen eachother a few times. Nothing crazy, but intentionally. First you met up at the record store so you could show him some other albums he might like. The next time, you went back to the ice cream place from that ill-fated date night because for some reason, ever since then, you’ve been jonesing for a scoop of that peanut butter swirl ice cream and ended up sitting for two hours just talking.

The last time, he invited you to their favorite coffee shop, sat at a table just adjacent to where Robin and Alex sat, scooping the foam off of one anothers cappuccinos and lattes with their fingers, ankles tangled together under the table, clearly whispering and staring at the pair of them and doing an awful job of keeping their voices low as they spend the whole time making conjecture about what exactly is going on here with the two of them.

Robin was nice, she seemed quirky and fun and Alex seemed like some of the angsty, take-on-too-much-responsibility type girls trying to stand out in the crowd at the University you’re teaching at - which basically means you know exactly how to socialize with her if need be. But since then, you’ve been so wrapped up in the start of your semester, taking on a bigger courseload than normal and getting wrapped right up in the happenings of the fall semester to keep up with anything but teaching and grading.

Steve finally talks after a few seconds “Yeah, it’s really…been awhile. Thought you forgot about me.”

“No. No! Well…you haven’t forgotten about me huh?” Your eyes flick down to his shirt, the typography finally catches your eye, and you point to it with a smirk.

“What do you have here, anyway?” You snatch one of the fliers off the ground as the autumn breeze starts to swirl it around at your feet.

“It’s nothing! No…well. Our boss got a huge shipment in - like, HUGE and we have to make room…..on the floor. So….I’m running a sale.”

“Oh hoh hoh, this is great. Is Robin working? I kinda need a break. Show me this shop of yours? Please? I gotta see the merchandise.”

He is absolutely dreading this. He knows he can’t say no to you. He’s been doing great those few times you hung out together, but he can’t deny that just thinking about you makes him sweat, and he has continued to - over and over and over again - indulge himself to thoughts of your voice, your face, your body as he loses himself in the tense grip of his fist. So you have no idea how much of a hold you have on the guy. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that you have him wrapped around your little finger. And he’s utterly embarrassed, because he knows it. Stupid Steve getting obsessed with another girl again. Convincing himself he’s in love. Yeah…

The pair of you walk through the door of the shop not long after that. The sounds of voices from the back room ring out, cackling laughter that is irrefutably Robin echoing through the store. Steve leads you back behind the curtain to see Alex sitting, entirely amused watching Robin lose her cool at every dildo she pulls from the box. Robin is there, sitting cross-legged, holding up a gigantic transparent pink dildo, wobbling in the air, her cheeks almost the same color as the jiggling member. “People fit THIS up there? Who LIKES that? I’ll…Look at this thing!”

You immediately burst out in laughter and Robin looks up, beaming when she sees you. Eyes darting back and forth between you and Steve. “It’s not as bad as you think, Robin.” you say. Entirely too seriously, and Steve almost gives himself whiplash looking at you as you shrug it off and move closer to inspect the wares. “Ran into Steve on the street, saw you guys were having a sale and I HAD to see all the fuss.”

“Steve…lotsa stuffin’ the muffin gonna be going on after we sell those bad boys.”

A litany of curses rolls off of Steve's tongue in response as he yells something about setting up a sale display in the front.

They all follow Steve out to the floor as he works up the display space. Robin slides over next to him and starts to help, setting a box filled to the brim, bulbous heads sticking out over the edge. She leans over into his shoulder so she can whisper “Stevie…your face is way too serious right now. The girl you like is here while you’re tossing around fake dicks. You gotta smile about it or…lighten up or something. She’s not gonna like your sourpuss face. I think I’m the only one that puts up with that”

“Rob…she's not.. I don’t - '' but he’s cut off by the whirr and buzz of a pile of vibrating dildos Robin has accidentally activated. Moving and bouncing while making an incredible racket against the glass top of the case, the dildos start toppling over the ones Steve has meticulously stacked already and buzzing right off the side of the case and onto the floor. The vibrating dildos are chaotically bouncing and toppling everywhere. “Shut up, you two!” Robin yells back at you and Alex sitting curled up in the seating area, faces red with laughter.

Just then, a group of the shop's regular customers start trickling in flyers in hand, intrigued by the commotion. Robin, overwhelmed with the chaotic situation she herself unfurled, immediately goes to assist the customers, leaving Steve behind to deal with the cacophony of mechanical penises. To distract from the mess, Robin begins a rambling speech about the history and uses of various dildos, sharing more information than anyone asked for and with surprising accuracy and detail. The three of you all look on in amazement and curiosity as Robin suddenly transforms from a bumbling, blushing sexual idiot to this dildo encyclopedia in no time.

“Hey! Ladies…watch this!” Steve picks up a few of the dildos and starts juggling them in the middle of the store with particular ease. In a rare moment where Steve shakes off the uptight strings that tie him up and hold him down, his effort to make things a bit more lighthearted, pay off.

Everyone’s hollering and smiling and laughing, however, his juggling skills are far from perfect. After a good run, he misses one - a big sparkly silicone thing that starts bouncing wildly across the counter and lands with a smack and a slap in front of the customer at the register. Robin and the customer look down at it, mouths open in disbelief.

Steve’s bracing himself to get yelled at by one or both of them, but instead both blow out a laugh they were holding back before the whole store erupts into amused giggling and full on laughing fits.

After the shop closes that afternoon, the four of you find yourself walking down the sidewalks, sky overcast with the October chill that creeps in at sunset to steal away the warmth and glow of the day. Standing in front of a bowling alley tucked away on a side street, Alex cocks her eyebrows at the others and says “How about we have some more fun?”

Knees knocking together as you and Steve sit shoulder to shoulder tying your ratty, overworn bowling shoes onto your feet, Robin and Alex return with drinks from the bar and plop down next to you. “Drinks on me tonight, assholes.” Robin proclaims happily - that is until Steve quips back “Good, you owed me for your stupid dead keychain pet again anyway.”

Narrowing her eyes at Steve’s, she ignores his commentary and quickly moves on. “Alright, two on two. Let’s see how bad this is gonna go!” She claps her hands and rubs them together in preparation.

“Guess it’s you and me, huh?” You bump shoulders with Steve, “I promise, I’m not that bad, so maybe we have a shot.”

Over the next hour the group is rolling with fits of giggles and laughter after dropped bowling balls and rolls down the gutter and baskets full of bar popcorn, kernels falling at their feet as they talk.

On one side, Robin’s begging for bumpers after four in a row has Alex taunting her to no end. Beers are refilled while Alex tugs on Robin’s belt loops to maneuver around her, palm running over the sliver of exposed skin on her back as she leans down to grab her ball. Cheers are shouted while Robin celebrates a Spare with a chaste kiss to the apple of Alex’s cheek. Comfortable silences are filled with her nervously picking at the strings jutting out on the frayed knee of Alex’s pants and filling the void by picking at the cuticles of her nails instead when Alex gets up to take her turn.

On the other side, Steve has bumped into you twice. Once causing your ball to fall out of your hands and barely missing your feet. He’s gotten his arm tangled in his open flannel shirt as he tosses the ball, so he takes it off and hangs it over the back of the chair where you’re sitting, the sides of his fingers brushing against your shoulder as he moves away and eyes darting nervously when he hears a tiny scoff coming from Alex, whose eyes are fixated on him with amusement. You and Steve are faring well and scoring better than your counterparts, but every time you go to celebrate, the interaction falls flat - one going in for a hug while the other sticks two hands up for a high five, the next time going to the high five while the other jabs their fist in the air awkwardly.

Alex slinks over towards Robin and whispers, “This…is fuckin painful.”

Over the crack of falling pins and music on the jukebox, Alex shouts over to you, “So how exactly do you know Steve?”

“Oh, yeah…honestly, we just ran into each other a few times. All very random really. Saw him first at the record store when he was getting his first vinyls. I was there picking up my new copy of the Pearl Jam one…I guess I kind of made the suggestion he try it out himself.”

Robin flits her eyes from Steve to you, now wholly making the connection on why Steve’s probably constantly playing "Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town" late at night. Steve sees her gears turning and he tries to signal for her to drop it, but in true Robin fashion….she won't.

“So wait, that’s how you met her?” she jabs her thumb in your direction while shouting at Steve.

“W-well, yeah I guess technically. I didn’t really even know your name until the cab thing like…a month later.” he says casually, directed at you even though it was Robin who asked the question.

Looking at Robin’s blank stare, you fill in the blanks for her when Steve doesn’t continue. “Yeah. Well…Steve kind of knight-in-shining-armored me from a bad date one night. I recognized him from our run ins, but we still didn’t actually know each other at all, but he caught me at the tail end of probably the absolute worst date of the year. Dude made me pay for everything and left me to find a cab myself and I was just a fuckin mess standing there on the sidewalk trying to count my change after paying for dinner.”

“Oh, yes…Stevie loves to be the hero. Dontcha?” Robin pokes at his shoulder.

“Well yeah, he really was. I definitely didn’t have enough cash for the cab so we shared one and had our first proper conversation, bitched about how awful first dates are - or dating in general, right? God it’s been the worst.” your words trail off as your brain is clearly rolodexing through all of the failures and wasted nights you’ve collected.

Smiling at Steve as you say it, “We just kinda keep running into one another, so we’re just embracing it!” Steve nods in agreement, tight lipped smile pulling up on the left side, oddly quiet as he listens to you recount how you’ve found yourself here in his circle.

“Hmm…cute.” Robin says, a little over exaggerated, as she unties the frayed shoelaces of her bowling shoes and walks up to the counter to return them.

At the counter, Robin stands leaned over while Alex slips her hand in the back pocket of her wide leg denim. You and your teammate for the evening fall in line next to one another behind them, shoulder to shoulder again, looking over at one another, waiting to see who will talk first.

“We really whooped their ass, didn’t we?”

“Thanks for having me around today.”

You both spill out at the same time. Both agreeing with a nod and a smile, eyes locked together just as Alex and Robin turn around to face you and move out of your way. “You’re up, Romeo.” She winks as she reaches out to grab Alex’s outstretched hand and head towards the door. Steve watches as they tumble out of the entrance and the door closes behind them, the pair illuminated through the glass by the lights on the city street as his friend leans in to kiss her girlfriend, like some perfectly lit scene out of a movie.

This all started because Steve tied the stem of the cherry from his Old Fashioned and set it casually next to his coaster in the bar. Gasps of "How didn't I know you could do that?" from Robin.

“Wow. Wow. Honestly. Who knew Steve was such a Cunnilinguist over here? Fluent in Mumbling in the Moss.” Robin’s teasing, but her jaw is just about on the bar and she’s fighting back the impressed look she has on her face. “Let me get my notebook out. I gotta take notes…please, please don’t stop on account of me. Continue….” Robin gestures at Steve in a bow like he’s a fuckin member of the Royal Court of Pussyeaters, taunting him with wide sarcastic eyes and a glint of actual curiosity he can clock from a mile away.

“Robin, YOU have even said it yourself.”

“Oh yes, how could I ever forget the sounds Melissa from upstairs made on our first weekend here? Right. Sorry. Blocked that out of my memory bank shortly after it happened.”

The thing about Robin is, this city has made her feral for new things and new information. Probably something to do with the fact that she can actually live like she wants to more openly, that there’s less judgment or even a community. Maybe it's a lot to do with the fact that the girl who used to cringe at the word boobies is hawking condoms, crotchless panties and sex toys for a living and learning about her sexuality in real-time, but Robin has turned into a sexual sponge. She’s shy about something until she’s not. Zero to sixty in ten seconds flat. She sees it once, asks a few curious and direct questions and suddenly she’s ready to rock and roll.

Over the past few months, Steve has watched her boundaries literally crumble at her feet. The first time it happened, early in the summer when they first got the job, he found himself sweeping the same spot in the front of the store for twenty minutes straight. He was completely distracted when Robin went on and on extremely enthusiastically about Ben Wa balls to a customer.

At first he was lingering because the girl was pretty - shiny hair grazing the tops of her shoulders, sunkissed and peeking out of her tank top, glittering gems dangling from her ears. He was admiring the girl, until he heard Robin talking about those balls like she knew what she was doing. He hadn’t thought about those since he had that stupid sandwich shop slip up, but apparently since then, Robin has become a goddamn connoisseur. He almost dropped the broom when she gave the girl some of her favorite personal tips to enjoy them as she checked her out.

Since then, Steve can’t even count on one hand how many times he’s had to hear Robin talking people’s ears off about fuckin Ben Wa balls. She’s like a Ben Wa sales person every night at the bar, yapping anyone’s ear off about them, talking about no less casually than like it’s talking about how you take your coffee. Just rambling on about how if you slip them in before your date, it pays off at the end of the night, or how if you add a little vibration they go wild. If she didn’t already work at a Sex Shop, he’d tell her to get a job at one with how she’s acting. Steve’s no prude, God no… but he doesn’t think he’s ever going to get used to his Robin talking about what she sticks up her vagina like that.

So now, here they all sit, at the corner of the bar at Benny’s, and she’s trying so hard not to look like she’s desperate for a lesson, but Steve knows. He knows she’s trying so hard to get information. So she can deliver. She won't ever do something unless she's sure she'll be good at it. She won’t say it out loud, but she wants to return the favor and she’s terrified she’s gonna do it wrong or be awful at it. He knows all of this just by looking at her body language and the look in her eyes. And shit, it makes him cringe thinking about it, but when Hopper leans over the bar and says “I don’t think he’s really that good if he’s not gonna spill the beans? Pretty face like that has probably never been sat on in his life.” he’s all in. He’s not one to back down from a challenge. Stubborn as ever.

“Well…You’re not exactly wrong about that. Not for nothing, though…I tried. I swear. Hawkins, Indiana is not filled with adventurous girls that are willing to do that.”

“Wait…who did you ask to sit on your face, Harrington? Do I even wanna know?”

“Don’t worry about it Robbie.” He waves her off. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No one took the bait so I stopped asking. Plus, most of those girls didn’t even want me to do any of it in the first place - I mean, after some convincing a few of them changed their opinion afterwards but still...”

“So…wait. You didn’t spend all your years as King Steve feasting on clams? That makes no sense? How can you even self-proclaim you’re soooo great at it if you don’t have that much practice?”

“First of all, I did just fine thanks, and secondly it’s not about practice, Rob. I’m a fuckin natural” Steve grins wide like a cheshire cat around the rim of his glass as he throws back a sip, knowing his comment will send her into a tizzy.

“Oh you’re just disgusting Steve Harrington. So fucking smug about everything.” As she rambles on, Steve lets her go, barely noticing that he’s not paying any mind to her, and he asks Joyce if he can have the jar of cherries behind the bar. Joyce smiles at him and winks, before sliding the glass container down the bar to him, catching it in his hand and wiggling it in Robin’s face.

“You wanna learn from the best, Buckley?”

He hands his friend a cherry and asks her to tie the stem and the first one took her 18 minutes. She’s awful at multitasking, so while he’s trying to fill the time with tips - about how she shouldn’t dive right in. “You gotta play around a little. Show the girls some attention, work your way up her thighs… don’t just stick your face in it. Got it?” She doesn’t. She’s got her brows furrowed and one eye squinted shut as she’s exaggeratedly moving the cherry stem around her mouth by jabbing her tongue every which way.

He rolls his eyes and holds his hand out in front of her mouth and tells her to spit it out, like a small child who got in the candy bowl and has to give up her treat after being scolded. The next hour goes by with Steve trying so hard to be a patient teacher.

He starts from the beginning, making sure she doesn’t skip over his first lesson: Approach but do not enter. He tells her about how no matter how bad she wants to, she can not under any circumstances make full and direct contact. "If you use your tongue like you just did with that fuckin cherry stem you're gonna scare her, okay Jabby"

In an almost reverent and detailed narrative he continues on telling tales of kisses up ankles and legs and warm breaths against their entrance. Teasing and touching and tounging through wet panties. Featherlight touches and sucking purple marks along the juncture of thighs. At this point, Hopper is leaned over his bar looking on like a little kid hearing about knights and dragons in a bedtime story. He needs a napkin to wipe up his drool after listening to the pussy poetry coming off of Steve Harrington’s lips.

Steve dangles out Cherry #2 for Robin to snag with her lips before moving on to his second lesson: Start slow. Robin has her mouth open catching flies, cherry stem just resting between her teeth as Steve goes on to explain how she should kitten lick just around everything she has to offer, then in. Gentle strokes exploring what’s there, tongue flat, loose, gentle. Circling the clit, running it along all of the places in between. “Opening up the flower,” he says. Bonus points if you make noise while you do it, tell her she looks pretty he says and Robin nods in understanding.

Palm extended again, Steve nods as the stem falls into it, telling Robin “Nice. You’re getting there. This’ll be important soon.”

Cherry #3. Take a break. He looks her dead in the eyes when he says “You gotta take a break here, Robbie. Don’t do that thing you do about every other thing in the world. Where you’re all in and super focused and too excited and you forget the steps. BACK OFF. Do the thigh thing again, just less is more for a minute here….You hear me? Now gimme that stem.”

Robin pulls the stem out of her mouth, holding it up to her eyeline and sees her knot is tighter this time and she's done it quicker. Much quicker than before. She grins “Got it! Got it! Am I doing good?”

Steve smiles at her, and pops a cherry into his mouth, handing one off to his friend and grinning like a devil as he hands one to Hopper, too. Both take the offering, despite Hopper acting way too cool about it, he plays along. Cherry #4. Dive in. Swirl, slide and suck. Alternate until you figure out what works for her. Listen for the sounds, the breaths. Pick up speed. "Lay that tongue flat again and lick her up from back to front, because she's gonna taste like heaven." Robin nods as he tells her to add a finger or two if she wants it but keep playing with that clit, rolling and rubbing and maybe even some flicking just like that cherry stem.

All three of them pull their stems out, candied cherries already warm in Robin and Hoppers bellies so they could focus on the stem. Steve, however, pulls out his stem to show off the tight knot and sticks out his tongue with the cherry still there, untouched and carefully maneuvered out of the way of the action the whole time. He makes a show of swirling around the cherry, undulating his tongue with a smirk turned up on the corner of his lips before popping the red orb between his teeth and crushing it with a grin.

“Okay, fine. You sound like you know what you’re doing Harrington…that…yeah…thanks for that.” Hopper says as he walks away, turning his stem between his fingers, a little too deep in thought and mulling over Steve’s words as he serves up the other patrons of the bar.

Stirring the ice of her now empty glass, she eyes her friend. Still processing that he gave her such a detailed lesson so she can effectively eat out her girlfriend for the first time, not to mention the fact that listening to Steve Harrington talk about worshiping a woman like that kinda turned her on, it takes her a minute to finally break her silence.

She looks away from Steve before starting in on one of her tried and true rambles. “I gotta repay you for that weirdly effective tutorial. Just maybe one nugget of information. I mean, I may have never been the giver, but consider me a receiver? A tight end? I dunno I was trying to give you a sports analogy because you’re a jock. Were a jock…or whatever. Anyway. Girls…they don’t agree to sit on your face, man, and it's not because they don’t want it. They want it. It’s just, like, REALLY embarrassing.”

Steve looks at her confused. “What do you mean embarrassing?”

“Like, 100% of us think we’re too big or not good enough. And being like that is a little intimidating. Even my skinny ass thinks I’ll crush a girl if I do it. “

“Too big? - oh.” It takes some time for Steve to understand, never having to deal with any type of insecurity like that ever before it never even crossed his mind that it has anything to do with themselves or their bodies. He always thought they just thought he was a weirdo for asking and making things complicated. He assumed they didn’t have time for any theatrics and just wanted to come and maybe sign up for a second date.

Robin sees the wheels turning and the gears grinding in his head, and she knows this means he understands but is too engrossed in his analysis of the actual injustice of it all to speak words. “So, maybe approach it differently? Or find a chick who is just so fuckin confident she doesn’t give a fuck. But let me tell you one thing…it pains me to say this. Truly it does, but your nose…is MADE for it.”

“My nose?” his face contorts in a confused glare she knows all too well.

“Oh baby, yeah…that nose is made for pushing a clit around.”

“ROBIN!” Steve pushes his chair back, feet squeaking along the roughed up floor of the bar, as he walks over to the jukebox and leans over it, grumbling yet again about how she always takes it one step too far.

“You’ll thank me one day, handsome! You’re not the only one that has information to share, you know?”

Steve has never seen Robin like this before. He’s not sure what to do with the information his eyes are transmitting to his brain in this moment, so he just stands there unmoving. “Uh hello? Dingus? What’s the deal?”

Robin has exited her room in those stupid fucking red boots that she now is insisting are comfortable and fully broken in, but the fishnet stockings that follow her skin up her legs are not the first thing that make Steve do a double take. A white baby t-shirt sits under the spaghetti straps of a lacey, silky black slip dress, a cut up to the thigh that she may have put there herself. A chunky, more masculine belt looped around her waist - wait…is that from his closet, he thinks to himself.

“Please stop looking at me like I’m an idiot. I look dumb, don’t I? Of course I do. I gotta change.”

The only other time Robin has found herself in anything other than pants was that one goddamn time Nancy Wheeler dressed her up like a China Doll to trick that fancy psychiatrist guy, and that’s a memory she’s tried hard to suppress.But there are no frilly socks and poofy white collars on this dress. No stuffy cardigan. And even though she never thought of herself as particularly feminine, today for the first time in her life she feels it.

“No! No Robbie, you look … great. I - I’ve just never seen you in like…anything like that. It’s…super fuckin’ cool okay? Like magazine cool. Like not friends with Steve Harrington cool.” he shakes his head as he throws some popcorn into his mouth. “Alex is gonna fuckin’ lose it. You gonna remember what I taught you at Benny’s? Tonight is your night, my friend, because she will not say no to you in that. For sure.”

“You think I’m gonna dine on the Adult Happy Meal tonight?” She says in a sly, teasing tone, knowing just her sexual euphemism will get Steve rolling his eyes and irritated with her in no time.

“Y’know what, I was trying to pump you up. Tell you you did good…but fine. Be that way.”

And she hated, just hated to admit it, but Steve was right. Alex loved it. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Robin’s thighs all night. Her fingers lingered at Robin’s waist and along that belt anytime she was within reach and Robin’s skin tingled with anticipation. She felt possessed by Alex. On a short leash. And as the music thumped in her chest, she felt the dull aching throb building between her thighs at the same time.

So it was no surprise when the two of them pummeled through Alex’s studio apartment door backwards, not taking their lips of one another with enough time to pay any attention to where they were going or what they were running into. Robin’s were slick with spit, cherry gloss and the smudges of the deep plum lipstick rubbed right off of Alex’s own plump lips.

“This..” Alex picks at the straps of Robin’s slip dress. “This is nice.” She almost growls out, finger hooked under the thin piece of fabric, tugging Robin with her until they hit the edge of the bed.

“I don’t think I told you how hot you looked tonight. It’s fuckin bananas.” Alex’s lips pepper kisses up the column of Robin’s neck leaving streaks of whatever pigment remained on her lips rubbed off like a trail of smoke, fanning the fire deep within both of them.

Alex’s nose is pressed up and into Robin’s temple, lips parted and breathy and tickling her ear. Tits smushed and pressed together the closest they could possibly be and Alex’s hand wastes no time slithering right into that opening left there by the makeshift slit cut into the side of the satin, up along her pelvis tugging the pesky fishnets out of the way and diving right back down into the hot wetness pooling in Robins’ underwear.

“Oh, honey. Robin…so wet already?” Her fingers smooth back and front again, swirling around Robin’s clit and sliding right inside on the backswing. Robin chokes out a breathy moan, pouty lips gaping open, eyes rolling back and long eyelashes fluttering in the air like the wings of a butterfly. Alex slides those fingers back and forth, back and forth until Robin looks back at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away just enough to look into her eyes. Alex doesn’t let up her motions, two fingers loudly moving through everything Robin is giving her.

Robin reaches down towards the bed and takes Alex by surprise when she picks up one of her fluffy white pillows and pummels it at Alex’s head. “Ow, what the fuck!” Alex shouts. She looks at Robin, corners of her lips turning up into a mischievous smile, fingers curling up into the sky as she shrugs her shoulders teasingly. Alex’s face melts quickly into one of laughter - but only temporarily before she reaches for her own pillow and wails on Robin, smacking her right in the shoulder.

Pillows are flying, both girls are laughing so much their tummies are starting to hurt. Fluff and feathers from the pillows are starting to puff out and flutter through the air. Robin lands a particularly good blow on Alex’s upper body that has her falling backwards into the bed laughing, and it’s in this moment Robin finds herself giggling, perched right on top of her girlfriend’s body.

She wanted this to happen. Really she did. That was the point. She’s come a long way but Robin is still too chickenshit to ask for what she wants in bed. She’s definitely too chickenshit to take charge. So as she lays here, leaning over Alex, pillows around them, blankets and comforters scrunched up along their sides in a sea of white linen, Robin leans down and connects her lips to Alex’s in the most possessive kiss she knows how to muster up. She spent all night feeling like she was on Alex’s leash, but for fucks sake, she wants to take a little too.

She’s always a little frantic, but this? She’s tugging Alex’s shirt out from where it’s tucked into the pleated trousers hanging low on her hips tonight faster than she can blink. Her bumbling fingers are trying to find the confidence to be smooth about pushing her shirt up and up and up, but instead it’s just hurriedly shoved up far enough for Robin to get a little bit of access to her breasts. She slows down a bit just enough to savor how her fingers slide under the band of Alex’s bralette and brush over both of her nipples at the same time.

God, Robin is losing her mind and she’s quickly going to get in her head if she doesn’t follow through. She knows that the second she lets her intrusive thoughts spiral, she’s going to be too worried about doing it wrong, or not being good enough that she’ll just run back home to Steve like a kicked puppy. So she takes a big breath - one that could be confused with someone diving down to the bottom of a summer swimming pool. Alex’s head pops up off the bed and is momentarily confused, but she falls right back into the mountain of pillows as she feels Robin’s hands extend, pressing her tits up and back into the mattress just as Robin’s nose starts to trail down, down towards her belly button.

Kissing the softness of her girl's tummy, Robin tries hard to remember that this is not a test, before she keeps mouthing at the dough of her hips, dragging the waistband of her pants further and further down. Alex’s hipbone, popping out just for a peek, gets a small kiss from Robin before she swoops her finger down and into her trousers following the seam of her thighs.

“Rob…Robin…what are you - oh fuck!” She cries out as she feels Robin’s blunt fingernails run up through her slit and back up, starting to fumble with the button. “Robin, what are you doing?”

Alex has felt great during this relationship, yeah she’s more of the giver, but there’s been plenty of grinding and sucking on nipples and self pleasure that have brought her to climax while the two of them have fooled around on couches and over the paper thin walls in their apartment as Steve sleeps next door. She’s been patient and attentive to Robin, knowing she’s still learning and exploring and not expecting her to do more than she’s comfortable with. But tonight she’s getting the distinct idea that Robin wants something a little different.

“Rob, you don’t have to …just…lemme take care of it”

“NO. Alex. Stop it. I…I wanna try something. Okay? Please?”

“Oh-okay, sure. But just stop if it’s too much for you. I promise, I don’t need you to fingerfuck me tonight if you don’t really wanna go there yet.” Alex is talking while Robin ignores her, working the pants loose and starting to wiggle them down and over her wide and pretty hips.

“Alex. Please. Shut up. I’m usually the one talking too much, but this time it’s you.” She connects her lips to whatever places she can reach on her stomach before looking back up at Alex, eyes wide and big and doe-like “And …I don’t want ot finger fuck you.”

With absolutely no notice after that, Robin’s head ducks down and quickly finds itself between Alex’s thighs, shoving the pants legs down as far as she can go while she runs her nose up along the edge of Alex’s deep purple panties. She hums loud enough for Alex to hear her and that alone has Alex’s eyes fluttering shut in anticipation.

Robin starts with small nips and licks along the inside of Alex’s thighs and remembers specifically that a few good, deep licks over the panties might be a nice place to go next. It’s safe for her underneath a layer of protection - mostly for her ego. It’s like the mental boundary she has still standing before she takes her first real lick. But with a deep breath and a smile she quite literally can’t hold back, Robin flattens her tongue and runs it right up the center of Alex’s panties, flicking her tongue when she gets right where she knows her clit is hiding under that cotton.

Alex’s hands jolt towards the bedsheets at the unexpected fervor on Robin’s tongue and the girl keeps exploring all around the exposed skin before taking the front of her underwear on her tongue, wrapping her lips around it and sucking, lapping, drooling right where she knows that clit is hiding from her. Alex is moaning and groaning under Robin and the sound is music to her ears - a symphony of praises like Robin has never quite heard before. She wants more. Needs more.

Tugging down the sides of Alex’s underwear she rips them off and throws them on the floor behind her and stares down at what lays before her. Alex, bared to her, legs splayed out to each side. She can’t help but admire the pink shades of her lips and the perfect curls of the hair adorned there. She runs her fingers along the sides of her pelvis, tickling the pads of her fingers with the roughness of where her trimmed bush is growing in just a bit. Robin is pretty sure this is how a dog with a bone behaves, but she couldn’t care less.

Next, she does something that even surprises herself. Rolling her tongue through her mouth, she gathers a glob of spit and lets it fall right on top of Alex’s clit, holding the hood back as the coolness hits her bundle of nerves. Robin blows gently on the wet skin, a small thread of saliva still clinging to her cupid's bow and Alex can not tear her eyes away from what is happening between her legs.

Robin dips her head down and rolls her tongue, front to back, side to side before letting her lips wrap around her clit and suck. As she continues, flicking and flitting and moaning into Alex’s cunt, she lets her fingers wander up until she can feel the heat of her girlfriends arousal on her fingertips. She looks up at her and asks “Can I…can I put these in, too? Do you want more?”

“Jesus Christ, Robin” she gasps, “You’re trying to kill me right? Holy shit. Yes. I need more.”

Sliding her middle finger into her first, then second knuckle, just to test the waters, she’s quickly overcome with how soft and warm she feels in her hands. “Oh Alex, you feel so fuckin good.” She works that finger in further before sliding it out and adding in her ring finger, too. No resistance, only the slick sounds of Alex’s arousal and Robin's fingers working her up better than she knew was possible.

Thanking god she knows how to play a brass instrument, knowing damn well her fingers and her mouth know how to multitask and move in tandem, she starts thinking about this orchestra between her girlfriends legs. Moving those fingers, not letting up with the beat and tempo she set for herself, she bends down to connect her soft lips back on Alex’s, lapping around the place she feels her fingers slipping in and out, licking along the edge of where her lips end and Robin’s fingers begin. Feeling the plunging and sucking around them as her pussy clenches around Robin’s fingers.

“Ohhh fuck. Robin, goo-good girl, Rob. Feels so good.”

Robin feels her own pussy clench around absolutely nothing at Alex’s raise. Pulling out her fingers, Alex cries at the loss, but she quickly moans louder than Robin’s ever heard before as she replaces that emptiness with her tongue. Shoving it inside, curing upwards and soothing that ache with the warmth of her tongue. She remembers how she rolled and sucked on that cherry, and repeats those movements until she feels a wetness, a creaminess that makes her moan out loudly herself. The vibrations from Robin’s moaning are doubling down on the orgasm crashing through Alex’s body and with a yelp and a groan and a giggle, Robin has her head laying across Alex’s sweat slicked chest, staring up at her waiting. For approval? For literally anything.

“Jesus, Robin that was….that was some top shelf shit. Wh-what…how? I mean, I’m not complaining but I was not expecting that.”

“It was fuckin’ hot wasn’t it?” she muses with a laugh.

“Lord help me, I…think you owe some thanks to Steve for all that, actually” she says painfully through her teeth.

“No fuckin’ shit! My man!”

A scoff comes right out of Robin’s mouth, unable to hold it back.

“Maybe if he uses some of that magic pussy eating technique on whats-her-name she’ll be just as obsessed with him as he is with her.”

“RIGHT?”

The windows of the house are actually rattling, filled to the brim with young bodies living in downtown Chicago neighborhoods - friends and strangers alike. Robin and Steve stand outside waiting to enter, looking at Alex for the go-ahead. “I don’t really actually know the guys, it’s just….I mean it doesn’t fuckin matter. Look at this party.” she gestures up to the house, lights flashing from behind the curtains in the windows. “We just gotta wait another minute or two. I’m meeting someone else…”

“Someone else? Who else is coming?” Robin’s volume starts off loud and starts to fade into a smirk as she catches a glimpse of you approaching the group on the sidewalk.

“Hey guys! Thanks Alex, I’m so glad I ran into you earlier!”

You clock the look Robin flashes at Steve and you almost feel slightly unwelcome if it weren’t for Alex, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow and pulling you forward into the house party, the duo still trailing behind trying to process what exactly is going on and why.

Robin jogs up to Alex’s side as they take the steps of the house two by two as they approach the door and leans in “What are you doing? When did this happen?”

Once through the threshold of the house, the loud music and shouting voices muffled their conversation with ease. “Oh whatever… listen, I ran into her at the coffee shop. Said after she went there with Steve that one time, she liked their Cappuccino so she’s been going back ever since. It was my chance to invite her out…maybe give them a nudge. I swear, I owe the guy after all that lip service last night.”

“You’re trouble, you know that? He thinks I’m trouble…but…”

“Maybe we're trouble together. Let’s go.”

Alex grabs Robin’s hand and trots off to the back of the house in search of a few drinks, trying desperately to lose both of you behind them and force you into close proximity.

As planned, Steve can’t find the pair anywhere in a matter of seconds, searching over the heads and raised drinks of strangers on the living room, repurposed as a dance floor, it quickly becomes futile. In the loud atmosphere, The Rolling Stones Start Me Up blaring from the speakers, he turns to you, unable to get a word in and get you to move forward with him in search of a drink, he tugs at the collar of your blush pink jacket - one that makes him smirk because he recognizes the ribbed collar and button clasp of the zipper jacket. Looking just like his own matching gray one, shoved in the back of his dresser lately in an effort to try and hide it better from Robin.

An hour or so passes and Steve still hasn’t found Robin, not without trying because his eyes are constantly scanning the crowd, like a lifeguard scanning the water keeping children safe. She’s fine. It’s not my problem to babysit her, he thinks. She’s got Alex.

He’s still with you, leaning against the wall and watching as you dance along to every song that plays for the crowd. Right now, he’s got his eyes glued to your hips as you move along to Owner of a Lonely Heart and sip your lukewarm beer.

You occasionally speak to him, but fuck if he actually has heard a thing you said. You haven’t stopped moving along to the music. It’s warm inside, so he’s holding your jacket now, while he sees the sweat dripping down the nape of your neck. Following it as it drips down and around the column of your throat.

He clears his before he lets himself watch it go any lower, over your clavicle and jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen. “Refill?” he asks, and you nod as the crowd chants out CAN'T TOUCH THIS, jumping in unison and making the floor shake.

Armed with your fresh drink, you find yourself following Steve down the steps of the basement, concrete walls and dusty corners, a basement not meant to be inhabited but perfect for a late night party full of friends and strangers for whoever actually lives here. The pair of you plop down on a dingy sofa, rifling through your purse you pull out a black package and slide a slim black cigarette out if it’s case. He looks at you quizzically as you light it up, the warm and spicy smell of your Djarum Blacks filling the air around you.

“A clove.” you exhale. “A clove cigarette? You want?” you pull one more drag off the cigarette and pass it off to Steve, who studies it before placing the filter to his lips. Pulling a drag, feeling something like cinnamon crackle through his lungs, his brain is fixated on how your lips were just right here where his are now.

“Whoa, that's…different.” He coughs out. “I like it, though. It feels…like…cozy? Does that make sense?”

Taking another drag and blowing out his smoke in one smooth motion this time, he hands it back over to you. Nodding and looking one another over as you pass the clove back and forth for a few minutes in comfortable silence, you’re broken out of your little bubble by the sound of cheating and squealing from the other side of the basement. A squeal that is unmistakably Robin.

The thump of the base echos against the damp and dirty cinder block walls and you and Steve turn the corner to see Robin, perched on top of an old wooden table, swaying and dancing, tank top straps falling off her shoulder as she sways to the beat

Rhythm is a dancer. It's a soul's companion. You can feel it everywhere.

Robin is clearly shitfaced, as she falls to her knees and gyrates on top of the table, you hear Steve groan and he runs his hands through his hair before he goes to step forward. Putting your hand on his shoulder to stop him, he looks back at you confused. “She’s got it.” you gesture to Alex, who's standing there looking mildly concerned, while also letting her pretty girl have some fun.

His protective nature is more evident than ever right now, and it warms you to see it. You’ve only ever really witnessed the snarky jabs and biting remarks that seem to be what their friendship is built on. The concern and softness on his face here is different. Maybe it’s not so much that he wants to be the hero - you remember Robin’s remark the other day at the bowling alley. Maybe he just…cares.

The crowd around the table is cheering and egging Robin on the entire time, only shouting louder as EMF’s Unbelievable switches on, causing Robin to lose her footing. Shaken up, she reaches for Alex, a dazed look in her eye, while her girlfriend throws her arm over her shoulder and they head towards the stairs. “I’m taking her home. She’s a damn mess. A cute one, but a mess.” Alex says to Steve as she passes him on her way up the stairs.

You and Steve trail behind, Robin’s lolling head looking like a ragdoll thrown over Alex’s back. “You sure you don’t need my help?” Steve asks.

“I got it pretty boy. Just…do a welfare check on my girl in the morning. I swear if she wakes up in a pile of her own vomit though - that's on her.”

And just like that, you find yourself the recipient of Steve’s care and concern, as he looks at you on the corner of a quiet midnight street. “Gotta get you home safe too. C’mon.” Holding open your jacket for you - the one you almost forgot he’s been holding for you this whole time - you step inside. He wraps it gently around your shoulders, fingers lingering a bit softly just before he notices and gives you an awkward pat on them instead.

“Are we walking, or are you gonna make me get you a cab again?” he teases.

You roll your eyes as you start walking away. “My place isn’t far. Just this way. Y’gonna make sure I get there okay?”

Nursing hangovers and sore bodies the next morning, the pair have their feet sprawled out across their respective couches, curtains drawn tight keeping out the golden October sunlight, hoodies tied up around their heads keeping the noise out and the light dim. Robin gnaws on a bagel, untoasted, uncut just straight from the bag like a heathen while she is mumbling about what she and Alex have been up to lately.

Steve’s head is hurting, but he really is happy to hear how supportive Alex is of Robin and all the cool things they are doing. He wants to hear more about it even though it feels like her voice is driving one hundred screws directly into his brain stem, so he tips back his bottle of water and tries to focus in.

“We went to this sick basement venue the other night - the music scene there was so cool. You might have liked it Steve. I hear that vinyl collection you have spinning. I have to say, I’m impressed with your blossoming musical taste.”

Just then, he’s hit with a chunk of bagel right on his forehead. Begrudgingly he lets the hunger win out, and takes a bite, needing something to sop up the hangover but too lazy to go down to the corner store for a proper greasy breakfast sandwich.

“Might that have anything to do with a pretty lady who teaches at the University? Hmmm?”

He can already tell Robin wants to lecture him. He doesn’t want to hear it. He knows what she's going to say, and maybe that’s the problem. Maybe he knows what she’s going to say because it’s not really that wrong, and he just doesn’t want to admit any of it or unpack any of it. Why do that when it’s going to blow up in his face anyway? What’s the point in getting his hopes up if he can just play it cool and casual and make like he’s not phased by it when it inevitably doesn’t work out.

Steve already had his head running through this himself. The facts are, you are not a stupid girl and you’re not rolling around the city looking to settle down with some schmuck who juggles dildos at his day job. That’s pretty clear. That date that blew up in your face? That was at a nice restaurant. It was a serious date - or at least it should have been. Steve’s a 26 year old boy running around the city like it’s a playground trying to find himself and you’re an almost 30 year old woman with a career and a personality who is just way out of his league.

“Robin, it’s… complicated.”

“No, no. I’m not seeing what exactly is complicated about it. She’s so COOL. Steve - this is exactly what you need. I don’t know why you will constantly throw yourself like a hotdog down a hallway at anything else that looks at you for a second, but these ones that are good for you. …ACTUALLY good for you, you pretend like it’s a pipe dream?”

With that, they are both startled at the bell yelling out from the phone on the wall, neither expecting a phone call this time. They both look at one another before Robin sighs, pushing herself to stand and clicking the buttons of her Tamagotchi on her leisurely walk over to the receiver. Picking up the phone and laying the handpiece on her shoulder, she continues her focus on caring for her beeping blob, dead set on winning this round before Steve watches her face go white as a ghost.

Her eyes are boring into his, he’s mouthing What’s wrong and he gets nothing in response. His anxiety is swirling in his chest. It’s the kids isn’t it? He can’t help but immediately think that they are in imminent danger. He’s up and walking over, mentally ready to pack a bag and start the drive home before Robin silently hands the phone out to him.

“It’s for you.” she says, stone faced and looking at him with pitiful eyes.

Steve answers, a serious and curt hello into the phone when a familiar voice rolls out of the earpiece that makes him freeze.

“Son… Can you please explain to me why someone would be telling me these astronomical stories about you - a Harrington - working at a Pornographic Store?”

Shit.

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington

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palmtreesx3 · 8 months

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Act 2 - Exploration

Lubrication (Steve's Chapter)

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Summary: (9.3K) While Robin and Alex approach serious relationship territory, Steve still finds himself bubbling around the city solo. Steve is now spreading is wings, nonetheless, finding things (albeit tentatively) that he genuinely is enjoying for himself, not for others. We see Alex and Steve connect and start to build a relationship and loads of supportive friendship from the ladies towards their #1 guy. The antics in the shop are going full force and a memorable night comes from one charismatic customer interaction and more chance meetings with you encourage Steve to seal the deal. Seeing Steve start to loosen up is the name of this game. So slide in and enjoy this chapter of Get Off.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex paraphernalia, sexual innuendo aplenty, Drag Queen's and LGBTQ+ culture, failed dating, male masturbation, shop talk, porn watching, fluffy f/f affection and one-sided lust.

The sound of rubber hitting the pavement follows Steve along, while the sun is cresting along Lake Michigan and bouncing prisms off the skyscrapers along the lakeside trail. Sweat is trailing from the hairs on his neck, down the curve of his spine and the wind is whipping at his face. The last three weeks, Steve has taken up running in the early mornings. Something he used to do out of obligation but is now doing by choice. Stripping away the "expectation" of running for distance or speed or endurance and settling into the idea of running for the feeling, the self care.

It's not that he's feeling self conscious, really, but the softness around his tummy does make him pause in the mirror lately. He never noticed before how much being truly active made him feel good. That being athletic wasn't just about a big win or suffering through the aftermath of a loss in his living room at the hands of his father. So here Steve is with another new hobby and a little more self discovery, and the time he spends running and thinking allows him to be just a little more level headed than he ever was before.

He's been exploring this idea that he spent so long running from, that being alone doesn't need to be lonely. He's discovered that independence was about surviving on his own and going through life with absent parents - still making it to each game not only on time but early, never missing a doctor's appointment, eating dinner and not surviving on pizza. This is something different. This is doing things alone because you want to, experiencing things for yourself, being comfortable in your interests and and comfort in knowing who you are and who you might want to be. Autonomy, individuality.

In his post-run haze, Steve is sprinting up the steps after his morning run one day when he's abruptly stopped in the hallway by a swinging door to his face and an angry teenager storming out of it right into his path. He's heard them before - his neighbors - probably the worst part of their apartment living situation was whatever went on over there. The boy, whoever he was, was loud, angry. when he was actually home and wasn't angry, he was blasting music that made the walls shake. He was mean. And most times the girl would not respond. Her voice wouldn't be heard over his. Every so often she'd stand her ground and shout back, but when she did there were always slammed doors, the bang of fits on the wall. All things that made Steve's skin crawl.

This time, he didn't hear the shouts or the argument but he saw the aftermath. The tear stricken face of the redhead girl who didn't look up from her feet as she stormed out, and walked right into his chest. "Sorry. Fuck. Sorry." She snapped as her striking blue eyes bore through him like he should be sorry for what he said - when he didn't even say a thing. "Hey hey hey… you good?" Steve reaches up to grab her shoulders and look at her directly.

"Yeah I'm fuckin' peachy. What do you care?" She bites back harder.

" I- I'm your neighbor, Steve. I mean, I … "

"Oh, so you hear all the shit my brother of the year says to me then, huh? Don't look at me like that." There's that bite again. "I don't want your pity."

"No, no. It's not like that I… I'm just."

He's caught off guard by the healthy eye roll he receives by the young girl who moved to push past Steve, who still finds himself holding her shoulders in place as some form of comfort or grounding. "C'mon, don't be like that. I'm not trying to be an asshole, just… where are you going? "

"Over the rainbow. Fantasia, Sesame Street. Literally anywhere but with that dickwad."

"What about .. would you just come in our place? Hide out there for a while?"

" Are you some fuckin weirdo? I don't even know you. "

" I know… I know, I just… you shouldn't have to run like that. Just, c'mon. I'll leave you alone, just… come hang out in our place. Robin's in there. We… we can just - please let me help you out." He has no idea why he feels the need to help this nameless girl so badly, he just knows that he does.

"Listen. I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't need you. I was fine before you moved in, I'll still be fine now that you're here."

Steve knows when to stop pushing, even though his stubborn streak tells him to keep going. This time he decides to bite his tongue and let it go. "For what it's worth, I used to think I didn't need anyone else either." And with that he walked around her and left the girl standing in the hallway. Looking back one last time before walking through his doorway he catches her standing in the hallway for a beat, before storming towards the elevator doors.

Things have been slow this afternoon, only the dull buzz of the cc camera system running in the background and the mundane tapping of the duo on the glass case counter. Steve and Robin are killing time behind it, perched on backless stools, legs kicked up along side one another on the glass "Alex is really just...dude. She makes me feel so mature. Like… I don't feel like a bumbling idiot band freak for once in my life. I think this is going somewhere Steve. You gotta meet her. Okay? You gotta. I don't think I can get any more serious with her unless you meet her and like her, too."

"Robbie, just bring her around. Stop over thinking things. Jesus Christ. I love you. I'm sure I'll love her too. Just… invite her over or something. Not everything has to be a big event."

And as if he could smell that a serious conversation was going on without him, Murray busts in to the store floor. "Hey video store boy, I gotta job for you today!" he tosses a giant box of used porn tapes up on the counter. "These puppies need to be rewound and checked so we can do a discount sale."

"Ah fuck. I left these days behind me, man? Wait - did you say checked? Like for what? "

"Quality, damage, ya know… .looks like you're watching some porn today, Romeo! You can use the back room, buddy boy. I won't judge you if you want to spank it while you watch ‘em through. S'been awhile, right? Can't let Robin and her little girlfriend be the only one getting off around here."

Steve scoffs at Murray's comment. "The fuck, man? That was uncalled for."

Robin stifles a giggle. "He makes a point, Stevie. You haven't had much luck since nightclub chick on the first weekend. This might be a record drought for you. Are you even trying? I thought you were going out some of those nights? Nothing work out?"

"Robin. C'mon. I'm not talking about this with you …both of you …now." Steve doesn't want to explain that he's gone on a few dates with the girls he meets out at the bars or clubs, but those nights Robin is out, that's when Steve has been going out, sure, but it's been solo. Sitting at different restaurant bars, sampling new foods, trying to figure his life out.

And as if the Sex Shop Gods heard his prayers, the bell rings signaling a customer.- the first one all afternoon. "I'll do your stupid tapes after this." He grumbles; a charming customer service voice turned up full throttle after that "Hello sir! Welcome. What can I help you with today? "

The suit clad man, Steve estimated to be in his mid 40s, joins Steve at the counter and in hushed tones asks for some help picking out a good quality lube. "Yeah man, let's get you hooked up." He claps his hands together and leads the man to the racks across the store.

"Boys sensitive. Still got some shit going on, yeah?" Murray mumbles to Robin. She sighs and just nods in his direction.

"Yeah, man. I thought he was keeping busy, going on dates or whatever when I go out with Alex but something isn't adding up. He went through a phase where he was striking out with every girl left and right when I met him, and this isn't the same… " she trails off.

"... Prince Charming is still falling short." Murray finishes, as he gazes at Steve across the store.

Steve emerges from the back room hours later, rubbing his hands down his face looking exhausted. " Rob, you gotta come back here with me. I can't watch one more of these pornos by myself. I think I'm going delirious - oh shit. Sorry I didn't know we had a customer. Sorry."

"Steve. Dingus. Chill. It's… not a customer. This… uh. This is -"

"Hey, what's up? I'm Alex. And you're Steve. Cuter up close." She winks at him, eyes glistening with mischief as she leans in with an outstretched hand. Her firm handshake taking Steve by surprise.

"Oh fuck. Hey. It's good to meet you Alex. .. what do you mean cuter up close?"

"Uh yeah. I mean I'm pretty sure I left out that part about when we met. She… she thought you were my boyfriend - "

"Typical. " Steve cocks his shoulder up in a shrug.

"- Exactly. That's what I said. But anyway. She thought we were dating because she'd see us at the coffee shop and she was… "

"I was admiring you guys from afar. Thought you were the fuckin cutest pair. Called you Coffee Shop couple in my mind." She confidently explains.

"Stalker. " Steve teases.

"Robs, I like him. Yeah, so until I ran into Robin that day by herself I was just daydreaming of this unattainable coffee shop couple. I guess if you're not real, at least I could settle for half of you,"

"The better half," Robin muses. The twinkle of a Tamagotchi goes off in the background.

"Go care for your spawn, Robin, or you're gonna owe me another drink tonight." Steve teases.

"Fuck! I don't have the extra cash to carry your drinking habits this week, Harrington." She shouts as she sprints off to the break room to fetch her keychain.

"She's something else." Alex says, now left alone with Steve for the first time." Sorry if I came off stalker-y. I tend to come on strong."

"Funny enough, I actually know the feeling. You're fine. You make her happy and that's all I ever want for her." He smiles.

"You're a good friend, Steve." Alex gets out, before Robin barrels into the store floor again swinging her keychain, shit eating grin on her face. "It lives to die another day! No drinks for you tonight, Harrington."

"You guys need some company? What's on the agenda this afternoon? I'm free for the next few hours?" Alex leans back on the counter looking between the pair.

"Well … dingus here just was asking for some company as he reviews the secondhand pornos in the back room. Quality checks on the pros knocking boots. Wanna come?" Robin offers. "I got snacks."

"Oh hell yeah, I'm coming" she responds quickly, grabbing Robin's hand and following her to the back room.

What the fuck, Steve thinks to himself. He's never met someone as bold and free as Alex and he's only known her for 15 minutes. He shakes his head and comes to the conclusion that yes, he's gonna spend his afternoon watching pornos with his best friend and her girlfriend. All for a paycheck. Can't make this shit up. He runs his hands through his hair and follows the pair back behind the drapes. "Alex, as the guest of honor, you pick the next one. Anything on the pile. I'll rewind and get it rolling."

This time it's a totally kitschy plotline where the maid gets herself stuck in the oven while she's cleaning it rolls on the box screen television in the back. Robin is sat on the old couch with Alex next to her, arm tossed over her shoulder rubbing her thumb along her exposed skin. Steve perches himself along the arm of the couch, back to the wall, legs kicked up the trio laid back with a soundtrack of moans and groans in the background. Steve's eyes are flitting between the screen and the two girls on the couch before he breaks the silence.

"So we're either gonna make this funny, or it might get totally weird, what's it gonna be?"

"You mean you don't want to sensually watch this girl get a banana in the fruit salad while we're both here? Don't enjoy watching some random dude fill the cream donut with your best friend and her girl?"

Steve groans and her never-ending wild euphemisms for sex before Alex throws a wide, teasing grin his way before saying, "Look at her tits. No wonder she got stuck. They have to be the size of watermelons."

Robin giggles before her own observations come tumbling forth, "Listen, we all know a man is basically the least appealing thing on the planet to me, but that guy's legs look like a chicken. Am I wrong?"

"Nah, he needs to go for a run. Do a leg day or something." Steve laughs back. "I'm surprised he even has any power behind that thrust."

And things go on like this for the rest of the afternoon, fits of sarcasm, giggles, and gaping mouths, especially for Robin as she wails out and hides her eyes every time a guy slips it in on the screen, Alex teasing her relentlessly "C'mon! It's just biological. That guy's dick actually isn't that bad. He's got some girth." A louder groan comes from Robin as she tries to block out the words from her ears. "Robs, it's like… it's probably like when I use three fingers instead of two, you like that."

"Nope! Nope. I'm out. I'm done." Steve yells, throwing his hands up in the air and pushing off the couch arm where he was still lounging. "I don't need to hear that shit. Fuck right off, both of you."

Robin's face is a mix of pure embarrassment intermingling with absolute entertainment. Her shocked face morphing into a shit eating grin at Steve's uncomfortable pacing.

"You two finish these tapes together. No funny business on that couch either because I nap there. None of this three fingers bullshit. Fuck. ROBIN. I… " Steve's ranting fades off into the distance as he walks through the curtain still blabbering, hands on his hips, leaving Alex and Robin full on cackling in the back room.

Not twenty minutes goes by before Robin hears the ding of the bell and a voice that's not Steve's shout "What the fuck did you sell me? My dick is falling off!" The pair’s eyes go wide and dart to look at one another and back at the curtain before they both clamber over one another to push through the curtain. Just about the same time, Murray is emerging from his back office to see what the fuss is about.

"You need to fix this!" The older suited man from earlier bellows at Steve across the counter.

"Dude, I don't know what you're talking about. Do you mean the tingling?"

"Tingling? My dick is gonna fall off, did you hear me?"

"What the fuck, man! Are you having a reaction?" Steve shouts back.

"You did this to me!"

Steve’s voice wavers under the weight of the unexpected confrontation, stumbling over words as he attempts to respond. "I-I mean, seriously?" he shakes his head, expressing a blend of confusion and frustration. "I.. what-what the fuck. I didn't do anything!"

"Sir, sir, please calm down and explain what your issue is. If my Associate here made a mistake I'm sure - " he glares over at Steve "he will apologize. Right?"

"Yeah yeah, Christ. Just… your dick isn't gonna fall off man, let's just figure this out."

And before any of them knows it, the man's dick is out of his pants and slapped on top of the counter for the whole group to see. Even Murray is surprised by this turn of events and hesitates before he can come up with anything to say. "Ok, what the fuck, man?"

This time, more calmly, dick still out on the glass, the man explains that he thinks his dick is going to fall off because it won't stop burning. Steve goes on to recount for the group that yes, that probably is true because the man picked out tingling lube, so he should, justifiably expect some tingling. "Why would I want my dick to burn like this? I thought that meant like… a good orgasm."

"No man, when I said this one tingles, I literally meant it tingles."

"So, that's why my asshole is burning, too?" The buttoned up man whispers to Steve sheepishly. "I- I used a lot."

"Yeah buddy. Yeah... That's… wh-why your asshole is burning, too. How about we… get ya a new one and send you on your way so you can shower? How's that? "

Things go on like this for about a week. Robin and Steve working and Alex popping in daily to spend some time there with them. Murray has taken a liking to her, too. Obviously, with her quick wit and bold nature, they're quite an unruly pair. Robin is often embarrassed as the two of them get into conversation (and sometimes debates) about work, life, Murray's experiences in the 70s, recreational drugs, politics, of course sex and more. Steve often is the brunt of any teasing, which he learns to take with surprising agreeableness, often waving them off as he walks away bitching, but not doing much to hide his smirk at the exchange either.

In between Alex's shameless flirting with Robin, today's customer comes in and unlike the typical bumbling hesitation so many have when they walk in the sex shop, fresh with the self-perceived shame of coming in a place like this for pleasure, this one marches in with purpose. The man, with perfectly gelled platinum blonde hair and meticulously crafted eyebrows nods at the crew commingled around the register as he beelines it for the BDSM section.

Its moments later before the man, wearing the tightest jeans Steve has ever seen (and that's saying a lot. He knows his are snug), smacks down the most high end leather whip that the store carries - handles laden in sparkling jewels, the smell of genuine leather catching their noses. "Hey man." He says to Steve, as he waits to be checked out.

"Bitchin' choice" Robin compliments.

"Yeah? You like this stuff?"

"Oh fuck no, it's still cool though."

"I gotta be honest, I don't either. But it's not for that. It's part of my outfit - my costume. I do drag and I needed a little something extra for the show next weekend. It just wasn't edgy enough for the new theme."

Alex is immediately interested. "Drag? What's your costume? Do you have a character?" Totally perked up and leaning in to hear more.

"My drag name is Roxy Royale. We dance at The Rainbow Room downtown. It's a Dungeons and DRAGons show next weekend. I shouldn't spoil it and you should just come to the show to see what I'm wearing!" Emphasizing the drag when he speaks.

He sees the varying levels of interest on the group's face, ranging from pure excitement to total confusion, the latter of which was written all over Steve's face. "Loads of people come. All different types." He looks directly at Steve and then back to the other two girls, "I promise, it won't make you gay, it's just a good time."

Robin and Alex chime in " .. already there buddy." Alex looks at Steve, still looking kind of uncomfortable and says "Steve, c'mon. Stop being so Hawkins and let's go."

Robin hums in agreement before she adds "But you're not wearing a polo."

The anticipation buzzed in the air as Steve, Robin, and Alex stood in line outside The Rainbow Room, the venue hosting the Dungeons and Dragons drag show. Neon lights illuminated the night, casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the excited crowd. Steve shifted uncomfortably, feeling a mix of nerves and curiosity as he adjusted the collar of one of the new shirts he picked out with the help of Robin and Alex - his polo traded for a simple black short sleeved button up with a collar, Nikes traded for a new pair of Converse, much to Robin's delight.

Earlier that night, after taking some extra time getting himself ready, he was nervous for the opinion of his friend. "Dude. Yes. Dude! Did you do that all on your own? Cuff up those pants like that? Hell yes. Let's fuckin' go!" And with just that little praise, he felt a little more at ease, but now standing there after Alex just popped open one more button at the top of the collar to show off a little more of his freckle spattered chest and a wisp of the patch of hair hiding underneath, he's trying hard not to be self conscious.

This was a far cry from the small town house parties he was used to, and his heart raced at the thought of stepping into this new world, especially in these new shoes. Even those first few weekends out at the huge night club didn’t make him feel quite as nervous. Maybe it was a mix of the fact that he was standing in line waiting for a Drag Show and the fact that he’s wearing clothing that he bought specifically to prove to Robin that he can loosen up a little, but he’s feeling more like he doesn’t belong than ever.

Robin, on the other hand, was practically bouncing on her toes. She couldn't help but shoot excited glances at Alex, who constantly exudes that confident aura that only amplifying Robin's enthusiasm. Alex's arm was casually draped around Robin's shoulders, and she leaned in to press a quick kiss to Robin's temple, a gesture that grounded Robin's nervous energy and filled her with warmth.

As they finally stepped into the venue, the energy enveloped them like a whirlwind. The air was filled with laughter, and the mesmerizing beat of music. Glitter and sequins adorned every corner, reflecting prismatic light off of every surface. The cocktail waitresses had hair teased high and arches in their lipstick drawn just as dramatically.

"Wow," Steve breathed, his eyes wide as he took in the exuberant surroundings.

"Oh, I can get behind this! Look at these outfits! Everyone looks so AMAZING!” Robin continues to take it all in.

Alex smirks and leans over into Steve, their burgeoning friendship something Steve has found himself grateful for on more than one occasion already, "Don't worry, Steve. Your sense of adventure is about to level up."

They found seats at a table draped with a sequined tablecloth, the anticipation growing as they ordered drinks - one called Ruff'n'Tough for Alex, a Pop My Cherry for Robin, and Steve's, a Sex Panther, which made the girls grin wide and stifle back giggles when he ordered it from the cocktail waitress.

Despite its delicate pink color from the grenadine, the zip of bourbon against Steve's tongue gives him some simple comfort. Gazing on at the stage adorned with a dragon-themed backdrop, and the lights dimmed as the emcee, Roxy Royale herself, strutted onto the stage in a dazzling, shimmering gown that seemed to change colors with every movement. The trio cheered loudly as Roxy brandished the recognizable whip during her lavish entrance.

As the performances began, Steve's initial unease slowly melted away. The performers were masters of their craft and it was way less sexual than he honestly expected. The performers' routines merged fantasy, comedy, and sensuality and clearly took a lot of talent. Robin leaned over to Steve, her eyes showing off just how much fun she was having. "See, Stevie? It's all about embracing yourself. Not one person here is having a bad time. Look at them!"

Steve chuckled, feeling himself relax as he watched a performance that involved a sword fight with inflatable dragons, all set to a pulsating dance beat. He found himself clapping and whooping along with the crowd and he couldn’t even hide the fact that he was enjoying himself if he tried.

Alex leaned over her girlfriend's lap and into Steve's space, her tone playful when she says "Steve… these performers sure know how to wield their swords, wouldn’t you agree."

Steve's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement dancing in his eyes. He shook his head and laughed, finally letting go of his reservations. "Total experts." He agrees.

As the night unfolded, their table became a hub of excitement. They exchanged laughs, stories, and delighted gasps, camaraderie growing stronger with each performance. Steve found himself caught up in the energy, even joining the crowd in dancing as sparkling, iridescent confetti falls from the ceiling during the finale, the group clapping along to Madonna’s “Like a Prayer". The three are shouting into the crowd, truly not having a care in the world.

Once the performances are over, the crowd congregates and enjoys the pumping beats of the music along with the performers on the dance floor. One big syncopated rhythm running through the entire crowd. Steve had shed his initial reservations completely and was now dancing with newfound confidence, amongst his friends and complete strangers, the dip in his shirt opening just one more button now - maybe by accident, maybe his fingers found their way there on their own and loosened it up just one more notch. Steve won’t admit this out loud, but everything here at this place feels so much safer and enjoyable than any night he’s spent with his friends out at the local clubs.

When the familiar opening notes of "It's Raining Men" fill the air, the crowd erupts in cheers and claps. All the performers on the floor start catcalling all the men in the crowd as the music starts to pick up and the notes crescendo, energy building along with the beat.

Suddenly, the room dims slightly, and a spotlight shone on a dazzling figure at the center of the stage. The performer adorned in shimmering hot pants, twirling a rhinestone bedazzled umbrella above her head holds the audience's attention. “I got one more for ya, Bitches!” She exclaims and with a mischievous grin, she scans the crowd. And in a flash, her gaze lands on Steve.

"Oh honey, look who we have here!" The drag queen's voice boomed through the speakers, her words carrying a blend of playfulness and allure.

Steve's eyes widened in surprise as he realized he was being singled out and the crowd is cheering him on. He exchanged glances with Robin and Alex, who were clearly delighted by the turn of events, Robin clapping her hands and jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas. With hot pink tipped nails, the performer extends her hand, beckoning him toward the stage with a flick of her wrist. "C'mon honey. Don't keep me waiting."

With an encouraging nod from his friends, Steve found himself moving toward the stage, his heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and nervousness - but he’s surprised to notice it’s not at all the embarrassment he might have expected. The crowd parted like a sea, creating a path for him to reach the stage.

Steve reached the stage, feigning as much of his King Steve confidence as possible on the way there, the drag queen held out her hand, her smile inviting and warm. "Come on, sweetheart! Let's show them how it's done!"

Caught up in the moment, Steve took her hand, feeling an unexpected surge of genuine confidence, so he dropped the act, giving her a real, thousand watt beaming smile - the kind he used to use on all the girls back in Hawkins to make them melt. The performer expertly led him into a dance, her movements fluid and engaging and Steve took all the bait. He threw his head back in laughter, matching her steps to the best of his ability while the cheers and whistles of the crowd fueled his ego.

As the song reached its climax, the performer spun Steve around before twirling herself, their movements synchronized to the music and the crowd roared in approval, the energy radiating through the room.

When the song ended the performer pulled Steve into a theatrical bow, popping her hip out and gesturing towards Steve with open arms, the crowd erupting in applause once again. Steve's cheeks were flushed, happiness painting his expression while his chest heaved up and down from exertion.

After he stepped down from the stage hands reaching out to shake his, clapping at his back out of acknowledgement and camaraderie, he makes his way towards the bar near the back of the room to get himself a drink and take a seat. As he slides out the barstool and slides in, a sweet voice next to him says “Well that was unexpected, Pearl Jam.”

His eyes snap open, lips barely touching the glass of beer he desperately wants to throw back for hydration, as he looks to his right to find the pretty girl he immediately recognizes from the Record Store. “Pearl Jam? I think that’s a better nickname for you - it’s good by the way. I didn’t think I’d like it, but I’m into it. So thanks, for that.”

“Hmm, I’m glad you did. I feel accomplished when I do my civic duty and turn random cute strangers on to good music.” You say with a smile, and before Steve can respond, you’re up off your stool and lost in the crowd. Steve is left sitting there sipping his beer, shaking his head with a smile on his lips wondering what your name really is and what brought you here tonight, and only for a split second, did Steve wonder if he's ever run into you again.

By the end of the evening, early morning at this point, the trio finds themselves standing outside The Rainbow Room, faces glowing with joy and a lot of new memories.

"I can't believe we almost missed this," Steve admitted with a smile, the words carrying a hint of wonder.

Robin bumped her shoulder playfully against Steve's. "Hey, sometimes you just have to roll a natural 20 on your courage check."

Alex grinned and intertwined her fingers with Robin's. "And look where it took us. An unforgettable night with dragons, glitter, and Steve Harrington dancing on stage twirling an umbrella."

“Listen, and you’d never believe what happens next…” Robin shouts down the bar.

“Robin! C’mon.” Steve begs.

“Oh no, Red, you gotta tell us. Please, tell us what happened next.” Murray encourages. Their boss has joined the pair for a few drinks after a late night closing up shop and preparing for The Hideout’s semi-annual sale, so Murray can make room for new inventory after he travels to the annual Adult Novelty Trade Show in Boston in a few weeks.

“Fine, let me do it. She….they picked me out and I went up on stage.”

“NO.” Murray gasps. Clutching his hand to his chest like he’s grasping onto a set of pearls.

Hopper is slapping the bar in laughter as Joyce pours Steve a shot “Here honey, it’s on the house for all this abuse you’re taking. If you had fun, that’s all that matters.”

“Hop, you should have seen him. It was amazing.” She shouts as she stands over by the jukebox. Before Steve’s brain catches up to Robin’s antics, he realizes too late what she is doing, and the opening bars of “It’s Raining Men” blare over the speakers.

“NO NO NO!” Murray chants. “THIS was the song? Jesus that’s fuckin priceless, pretty boy.”

After some back and forth debate on whether or not Steve should give an encore performance on the bar of Bennys, the crew opts to forgo that experience in favor of another round. Steve’s treat if only to “Shut you all the fuck up.”

The group settles into smaller conversations, Hop and Joyce getting the latest scoop on Robin and Alex and their most recent dates at the end of the bar. Joyce, looking on at Robin thrilled and proud like a mother, would be learning about her little girl’s first love. Murray is still seated next to Steve and, unlike his normal taunting of the boy, he genuinely starts asking Steve about how he’s settling in these days.

“Man, it’s been hard actually. I had no idea how little I had myself figured out until I came here. I feel like a fish out of water sometimes, but it’s kinda been fun trying to figure it all out.” Steve ruminates. “Thanks…for actually asking, though.”

“Red really is the only one lucky enough to bag a girl, though? Huh? I don’t mean to always tease, but what’s the deal? I know you got it in you. A face like that, I know. you know how to use it” He settles back into a slight tease.

Steve takes a few minutes to tell him about Melissa - oh god, what a jab to the ego that was - and a few other mundane dates he set up with random girls he met the night prior at the club or the bar they went out to over the weekend. But what he can't figure out is why they all fell short. Every single one. Despite their agreeableness to meet him in the daylight, they had no real interest in being on a date with him, they only wanted to get liquored up and dance with him in the dark. He’s been either bored to death or strung up and eaten alive and there has been absolutely no in between.

“Okay, but…have you ever asked a woman out on a date?” He holds his hand up at Steve to cut off his impending rebuttal “NOT a girl. A woman. And not some small town high school date to the movies or the make out point on the bluff. A date where you do something and learn something about each other?”

Steve opens his mouth to respond, but realizes he has nothing to say.

"Dude you gotta lube 'em up before you slide home. I get that you were prom king or whatever but that's not how the world works. Women. Real women are not going to just throw themselves at you because you can flip your hair outta your eyes. "

They both bring their beers up to their lips and Steve considers the man's advice in silence. “Because it sounds like you're trying to catch yourself a good woman but you're out here using bait for girls. Good women know their value and they don't sell themselves short. They did that. Some twerp like you fucked them up one time and they went on a path of self discovery. So if you're laying down fuckboy shit, that's all you'll get in return.”

Steve nods, taking in what Murray has to say and thinking hard. "Yeah, that…makes more sense than I want to even admit. Especially to you.” The pair exchange a glance and Steve stretches out his beer towards Murray, who bears his teeth wide as he reaches back to clink his glass with Steves.

"Stevie, c'mere!" He hears Robin call from her bedroom.

"What! Robin. I swear to God you two better be clothed."

The door creaking open slowly, he's met with Robin and Alex laying with their backs on the floor, snuggled close together, legs propped up in the air on the bed. "Nah, no Afternoon Delight in here today."

"Robin, where in the hell do you keep coming up with these? For a girl who wouldn't talk about boobies with me a few years ago, this is ridiculous."

"What can I say, I'm coming -" she says suggestively with a wink "- into my own. "

"Ok that's enough Sex Talk with Robin, whaddya want?"

Steve jumps onto Robin's bed, bouncing a bit as the mattress settles, legs crossing theirs and looking down on the pair tangled on the floor. After a lead-in of stumbling, stuttering worlds from Robin, Alex interrupts her girlfriend to save everyone from the stress induced misery "As you surely can see, Robin is a little stressed."

"Yeah, what about, Robbie?"

"This little lady here wants to see if you want to join us tonight."

He looks at Robin and then back at Alex confused "Were not hanging out tonight, it's your weekly date night? "

The pair go on to explain how Robin is worried because Murray told her he's not actually going on dates when they are out on theirs and it's giving her a complex about leaving her best friend behind. For a moment he's irritated that Murray would open his cocky big mouth like that, but he takes a second to consider that it wasn't to talk about him behind his back and make fun of him. After their heart to heart at the bad, he can see that Murray actually means well.

"Robbie, look at me. It's okay. I'm not sitting around moping. I… I actually go out on my own. Enjoy a meal, try a new drink. It's nice actually. Did you know I actually like red wine? And.. maybe I'll third wheel on another day - that's NOT your date night. I'll take you to one of the places I found. It's… I promise I'm actually really good with it. I don't feel lonely when you're out together. "And it's the softness in his moss colored eyes that's the only thing that put Robin at ease. She was just so concerned that leaving him alone made him feel the same as he did in Hawkins, but she could see that her friend was being honest. She could see that he meant it when he didn't feel lonely and she believed him.

And so instead of quietly dusting off on his own after Robin leaves on her date, they get ready together. Alex assuring them that they both look great, Steve needing more encouragement than Robin as he digs into the pile of new clothing again, he eventually just lets the pair pick out his options, leaving him with well fitting black denim, opting for the comfort of the black chucks he's already taken to wearing. "Cuff 'em again, hot stuff. That was a good look for you." Robin mentions as she finishes off his outfit by handing him a deep emerald green short sleeve button up with subtle little vertical stripes running its length.

"Do me a favor, and leave it open. Don't button yourself up. You get too stuffy." He glares at Robin, getting a little bold with her opinion "... Please." She tacks on with a forced smile.

The three exit the building together and even take the train as a group until Alex tugs at Robin's hand signaling the end of their ride. Steve has a few more stops, so he settles into his seat solo as he waves at the girls, shouting after them to have a good night and stay out of trouble.

The sun is setting over the city now, casting shadows through orange and lavender tinted clouds as he approaches a restaurant downtown that looks interesting and has space at the bar. It's a little more sleek than he normally would pick out, shiny bar laden with expensive looking cocktails and bottles behind the bar, patrons sprinkled through the dining area tucked in close to one another on dates or crowded around raucous tables fill of businessmen after work. Steve's moving his fingers and toying absentmindedly with the buttons of his shirt hanging loose as he slides in to the last open spot at the bar.

After enjoying his meal and having a few glasses of wine, whatever the bartender recommend, he sits back and enjoys a moment of people watching. Considering what kind of stories all of these other people have. If the bartender always lived in the city or came here running away from something; If the two women next to him fiddling with their wedding rings love their husbands at all after overhearing their complaints over cosmos all night; if the men in business suits at the corner table closed a deal today or are just so rich they do this every week.

He wonders if the girl sitting with his back to him is on a first or maybe a third… quickly deciding it had to be a first date by the way they weren't touching and how he saw her leg bouncing. But it's the way she throws back her half full glass of wine in one gulp tells him that she's not having a good time, so with nothing better to do he decides to watch someone else's date go down in flames, and continues sipping while glancing their way.

Steve noticed that the date, buttoned up and looking a little stuffy with his hair slicked back, almost looking wet, and his fingers tapping along to nothing in particular on the table has not stopped talking - at least since Steve's last glass was refilled. Unsurprisingly, the girl raises to her feet gesturing in the direction of the bathroom, and Steve readjusts to make sure it's not so obvious he's watching.

But it's on her way back, heels clicking along the shiny tiles of the restaurant that Steve chances a glance and knows exactly who this mystery woman is. Well, not exactly. He has no idea what your name is, but he knows exactly who you are. The girl from the record store. Pearl Jam. And it seems as though you recognize him, too, eyes catching one another just for an instant as you pass.

Now he’s distracted. You’ve never stayed put long enough in the two times you’ve crossed paths previously for him to truly take you in, so he’s doing it now. Drinking you in like the wine in his hand. He can see now, from this angle, the curve of your nose and makes particular note of the way your hair falls. He wonders for a moment what it feels like when someone runs their fingers through it. He sees the deep color of your eyes, and can tell by the way you’re sitting and carrying yourself in the face of a date that looks like a total douchebag that you aren’t easy to impress, nor are you easy to rattle. Stubborn, I bet, Steve thinks to himself.

Looking at his watch, one of the only nice things his dad ever bought him that he chose to bring along in this new life, he decides one more drink is about enough before heading home. Mid-way through his last glass, he sees the table you and the date were occupying is being bussed, presumed bad date over. Steve pays the bartender, and tips well. Probably too well for his Sex Shop Salary, but it’s at least one good habit he learned from his otherwise despicable father.

Stepping outside of the restaurant, Steve immediately sees you standing near the curb across the street, searching through your bag with a mixture of frustration and annoyance evident on your face. Steve observed from a distance, his curiosity piqued seeing you standing there alone. As you reach your hand out to hail a cab while continuing to rifle through your pocketbook, Steve hesitated for a moment before making a decision. He crossed the street, his steps purposeful. As he approaches, you looked up from your bag, and for a brief moment, your eyes met. Steve offered a friendly smile, hoping to ease any awkwardness.

"Need some help, Pearl Jam?" he asked, his voice carrying a touch of warmth.

You blinked in surprise, then sighed in relief. "Actually, yes. My date's idea of chivalry didn't include paying for the cab fare. Or my meal for that matter. Told me I seemed to be into feminism and all so I should have no problem covering my own meal. Can you believe that shit? So..I think I'm short on a goddamn cab and...."

Steve chuckled, "Well, that doesn't sound very chivalrous at all."

With a sheepish grin, you shrugged. "Yeah, tell me about it. Lesson learned, I guess."

As the cab pulls up, Steve offers you a solution. “Which way are you going? We can share instead?” and he can see the relief roll off of your shoulders.

“At this point, I don’t even care which direction you’re going. I’ll join you as long as it’s away from here.”

Steve's lips twitched with amusement. "Sounds like you're having quite the night."

You rolled your eyes, then glanced at him. "How about you? Just leaving the restaurant? Where's your date?"

"Yeah, just finishing up, and there was no date. Just me." Steve replied. "Honestly, it's been a pretty uneventful evening until now." He flashes a smile.

And as the cab ride continued, both you and Steve found that the conversation flowed easily. Now, to his great pleasure, he knows your actual name. He knows that, though you look too young to be so accomplished, you work at Loyola University and are a professor teaching both psychology and art and blending the two as often as you can in special topic courses. He learns you have been in the city for five years, and you were at the Drag Show with some of your Art Department colleagues. When he realizes you're waiting for him to share the same details about himself, you see the glimmer of something that looks like shame in his eyes.

"Well, I just kind of moved here. It's… it's going. Not exactly where I thought I'd be with my life so .."

"Steve, it's okay you don't have to be doing big things to be a good guy. You know that right?" You say, hand on his forearm in an attempt to encourage him, but instead its setting off electrical charges he can't ignore.

"Yeah, I mean… well I was at the Drag Show because one of our customers was the Emcee and invited us. She.. uh, bought her whip from the store my roommate and I work at. It's not a long term thing - God at least I hope it's not - shit. But.. yeah it's what I'm doing anyway so… " he trails off and shrugs. Praying to God you don't think he's some kind of loser.

And if you do, you don't show it. You don't press and you let him say just as much as he wants. The rest of the car ride is friendly and Steve has coaxed at least three fits of giggles out of you. He makes a mental note that he's done more in the 15 minute cab ride than he is sure your stupid date did all meal.

As you reached your destination, you paid the cab fare with a grateful smile. "Thanks for the help and the company. You sure turned my date night around. I was so excited for dessert but that guy was so awful I needed to get away as quickly as possible. So I guess this cab ride was my sweet treat. " you said.

Steve nodded, feeling a sense of camaraderie. "No problem at all. Hey, I know a thing or two about ice cream. If you're still in the mood for that dessert?"

You chuckled, the offer catching you by surprise. "Ice cream actually sounds pretty tempting right about now. Might be just what I need to soothe the sting of another bad first date."

"Well, lucky for you, I don't give a shit if you're a feminist, I still won't make a pretty girl pay for it. That's just stupidity."

The two of you walked into a nearby ice cream parlor, the neon lights creating a warm glow on your skin. As you shared stories over scoops of your favorite flavors, time seemed to slip away. You spent loads of time hearing about Robin and their awful job history, and spent some more dissecting each other's musical tastes, promising the boy that you had more albums up your sleeve that you think he'd be into, too.

After the drag show and the unexpected chance meeting at the restaurant, hanging out with you felt like a natural progression. As you finished your ice cream, Steve looked at you with a grin. "So, now that we've established our mutual fear of bad first dates and love for ice cream, how about we make hanging out a more intentional thing? See if we have even more in common?"

You chuckled, a sparkle in your eyes. "I think I can get behind that idea."

Coming up the elevator just a few minutes later, Steve was feeling lighter than air. He paid no mind to the buzzing of the fluorescent lights in the hallways or the predictable shouting from the neighbors place as he approached his front door. Jangling his keychain to get his key loose from the mess he notices that his Tamagotchi is… gone. It's the first one he's lost prematurely since Robin got the stupid things and he rolls his eyes knowing she's going to eat this up when he tells her in the morning.

Walking into the foyer he notices Robin's shoes and keys on the hook, signaling that she and Alex must be tucked away in her room by now. He honestly doesn't want to hang out with them anyway. He shuffles down the hallway, running his finger along the wall lazily before slipping into his own bedroom. Closing the door behind him and pressing his body up against it, his mind drifts right back to how you looked in the back of that cab.

God, how could one person he's run into a total of three times be wrapping themselves into his conciseness like a vine. Is this the thing Murray was talking about? The whole woman thing? Because you were not like any of the girls he has been taking to the coffee shop and never seeing again. Not like any of the girls who fawned over his megawatt smile and pulled their panties to the side just for the bragging rights. Not like any of the city girls who take take take at the club only to stumble their way home on their friends arms instead at the end of the night.

The thought intimidated the shit out of him. He could make a list as long as his bedsheets why someone like you shouldn't waste their time on Steve Harrington. Far from a King, yet you still made him feel worth your time. Maybe it was all for show, the guy you conned into paying the cab fare too distracted to notice. And you didn't have to try that hard. He was distracted, that's for sure.

At first it was seeing your eyes up close. Bright and sparkling, eyelashes batting with just enough makeup to make you look more beautiful, not to make you beautiful. To make the color of your eyes pop. That was nice, but when you touched his forearm in the back of the cab, your skin soft and smelling of lavender and cedarwood, you filled his senses and made him twitch. And then when you leaned over the table in the ice cream shop to offer him a taste of your peanut butter swirl ice cream, the neckline in your silk top dipped low and showed off just a shadow of what you were hiding under there and he felt his heels tap on the floor to get his mind on something else.

All those distractions were flooding Steve's senses right now, hitting him all at once. He moved away from the doorway and over towards his record player - slipping the only stupid album he wants to play right now out of its sleeve and onto the turntable. Lowering the needle, as the static breaks the air and the first bars of "Ocean" break the silence, he sighs. Leaning over his dresser he looks up at himself in the reflection of his mirror. Murray was fuckin' right. He thinks. He did need to stop being what girls want. He wants to be what you want. What a woman like you even deserves.

Before Steve even knows it the black of his denim is pulled taught over his crotch and he shakes his head "Ah fuck… I… I gotta… " he whispers out to no one in particular as he unhooks the buckle of his belt, button and zipper following quickly behind. Haphazardly, he pulls the undershirt from where it's tucked in around his waist and frees himself, the throwing his head back to the melodies coming from his speakers, the heavy weight of his cock in his hand and thoughts of you running rampant through his mind.

Fuck. He doesn't even know you. Barely. But he can't help but run his thumb across his slit all while thinking about that peek of collarbone you gifted him from across the table, whimpering as he gathers the bead of precum gathered there at his tip. Needing more, and fast, he has no time to rummage through his drawers or run down the hallway to the bathroom to find a bottle of sample lube he snagged from work.

Still leaning over his dresser, arm braced over the top, Steve opens his other hand and brings it up, spitting a large glob into its palm before bringing it back down and around himself, throbbing and angry red with the thought of you. His cool palm finally moving, chasing a relief that he needs more than he knew, he finds himself gasping out your name - the one he learned just hours before - as if you gave him permission.

It feels lewd. Like he's taking advantage of a woman that's too good for him. Even still, he can't help but close his eyes and imagine it's you burrowing between his thighs. Imagine what the wet of your soft mouth might feel like wrapped around him, or the skin of your palms working him up instead. Steve shivers as he thinks about it, thighs tensing underneath himself - the pleasure growing fast and twisting the knot in his stomach taught.

It's only been a few minutes but he quickly sheds his button up and undershirt wiping up the sweat gathering on his chest, his neck, his forehead before throwing it to the ground at his feet. His fist is moving, but he's trying to pace himself, taking a slow breath in followed by a calculated exhale through his nose.

His eyes are squeezed shut and head thrown back, sweat dripping down the gullet of his neck, bared to a woman who isn't there to nip at it. Leave her marks. Christ, they would probably be hot. Bruises right next to red lipstick like the one you wore for your date tonight.

Body tensing, thighs tighten under him making his whole self drive against the dresser. He falls forward, forearm resting on the top of the furniture, forehead coming down to rest on his forearm, hand moving along his worked up cock at a feverish pace. Taking a moment to give himself a squeeze along his shaft, he relishes in the tightened grip, then circles his sensitive head before returning to his bruising pace.

He's chasing that high, gasping out your name, labored breathing and moans Robin and Alex could certainly hear if they weren't up to their own bad deeds in the room next door. "Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck. Jesus, I wanna give it to you - shit."

The warmth is bubbling over from his belly and down through the base of his dick, vein running up the underside pulsing along with his racing heartbeat. The warmth of more precome dribbles out of his tip, baiting him to keep going - not to let up. When his abs tighten this last time, he slaps the dresser in front of him as ropes of come spurt out, once, twice, three spurts covering his hand and dribbling down his crotch and onto his dark denim.

He hasn't come like that in forever. And all it took was a cab ride with you and imagining your mischievous, bright eyes when he came. Once he gathers himself, he glares into his own eyes through the mirror, running his clean hand through his hair as he still grasps his softening, dripping cock and says go himself "I can not fuck this up."

Divider by @firefly-graphics

🏷️TAGLIST: @livsters @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss @katie-tibo

#joe keery #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #robin buckley #sexshop!steve #sexshop!robin #platonic stobin #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley smut #steve and robin get a job #steve and robin 4l #steve and robin fanfic

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palmtreesx3 · 7 months

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GET OFF: Getting Lucky Moodboard

Praise Kinks

COMING SOON!

Series Masterlist

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

🏷️TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo @johnricharddeacy @angywritesstuff @k-k0129 @tisthedamnseason69 @middle-of-the-earth @thebrazilianatheist @mochminnie @micheledawn1975 @falling-throughthe-hourglass @rafaaoli @ash5monster01 @gabessock @onyxslayss

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palmtreesx3 · 3 months

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GET OFF: Going All the Way Moodboard

COMING SOON!

Series Masterlist

SexShop!Steve x Reader : SexShop!Robin x OC

TAGLIST: @livsters @katie-tibo@johnricharddeacy@angywritesstuff@k-k0129@tisthedamnseason69@middle-of-the-earth@thebrazilianatheist@mochminnie@micheledawn1975@falling-throughthe-hourglass@rafaaoli@ash5monster01@gabessock @onyxslayss @scoopshxrrington@superblysubpar

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palmtreesx3 · 9 months

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Act 1 - Foreplay

Aphrodisiac (Robin's Chapter)

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Summary: (6.8K) The pair are settling in at The Hideout but not without some bumps in the road, and are exploring the city and sampling a bit of all that it has to offer. Steve is trying hard to find things that he likes to do and he's totally baffled to see Robin so effortlessly spreading her wings. Robin's got a date. A real legitimate, public date and she quickly gets fixated. Meanwhile Steve's got another lonely evening by himself. The pair - well maybe just Robin - gets in the mood in this Robin-centric installment of Act 1.

Warnings: it's a sex shop and generally just NSFW so 18+. Sex toys and self-exploration, female masturbation, shop talk, fluffy affection, LGBTQ acceptance (which isn't much of a warning, it's a goddamn right), self-loathing, mild depression and *you* make your first appearance.

Almost-July, 1993

What Robin failed to consider when wagering a digital pet bet with Steve Harrington is that this boy was born and raised competitive. She forgot that in the Harrington household "lose" wasn't in their vocabulary. She also forgot just how forgetful she is. Ironic. So it should have been no surprise that in the last 24 hours, her Tamagotchi has been sick three times and was always beeping incessantly.

"Rob, you're a horrible mother. You're gonna owe me 5 drinks before we even get our first paycheck." Steve gloats, tucking his healthy, happy, bouncing pet into his pocket before sitting down to lace up his sneakers.

Meanwhile, Robin who is shoving her feet unceremoniously into her Chucks ignores the shit talking and dishes out some of her own. "Dude, we have to do something about this." She kicks her chin in his direction as he smooths out his clothes.

"What?" Steve snaps back.

"I can't believe you still dress like that. Honestly. 1984 called, they want their Sears Catalog back."

"Ok Robin, sorry I didn't know you also got a job as the fuckin fashion police."

"I'm just saying, small town Indiana polo fashion ain't gonna cut it in the big city, boy. You wanna keep bagging hotties like you did the other weekend, we'll have to do something. You don't have to dress for mommy anymore." And as she says the last bit she immediately winces "Sorry. Sorry. I didn't mean … "

"No it's okay, Rob. I know what you're trying to say. Maybe. Maybe once we have some extra money I'll get something new. You can help me. Deal?"

After a few weeks of exploring, Robin and Steve have zeroed in on quite a few of their own places. A bench they prefer in the nearby park, nestled in the shade of a swaying willow tree; a greasy corner store that sells the best breakfasts to sop up what's left of an evening out; an arcade that makes them nostalgic and think of the kids at home and gives them something to talk about when they call; and this place - a nice little coffee shop tucked in between towering complexes and quaint stores just one block over from their place. There are always records playing of the baristas favorite bands, the coffee is good and strong and cheap and they're always open when they need it.

Steve and Robin have gone to the coffee shop almost daily since they found it. But this time Robin was out on an errand herself so she popped in on her own to grab two cups to-go and bring back to the apartment, where Steve, no doubt, was still sleeping. Perusing the wall of records in rotation while she waits for her order, Robin is startled by a quiet voice beside her, whispering closer in her ear than she's used to from a stranger. "This week it's good stuff, huh? I'm loving The Smashing Pumpkins new one." the voice says.

Robin's eyes dart to her left and quickly back up to the wall of vinyls, the stranger's proximity and attention making her squirm just a bit. "My last .. girlfriend. She was into all the pop stuff. Not really my vibe, ya know." And at that, Robin's eyes rise to meet the womans who is standing next to her. There's not much that can actually shut Robin Buckley up, but here's a few: a really fuckin' beautiful girl, eye contact and someone casually talking about their sexuality. It was the perfect storm.

Robin bit her plump, pink lips and nodded at the stranger, feeling a little ridiculous at the interaction so far. What is she supposed to say? Do I ask her about her ex- GIRLFRIEND? Do people really talk that openly here in the city? I don't even know her name! Robin's voice may be silent but her brain is going a mile a minute.

"Alex." The stranger says. Just as the barista shouts Robin! Your order is up! in the background.

As Robin reaches across the counter for the two steaming cups, Alex counters "And I'm assuming you, are in fact Robin." with a grin. "No boyfriend today?" She says, and as Robin's eyes twist in confusion, she pipes up again "No no, I'm sorry, I'm not being weird I swear. I just come here a lot and I've seen you guys. Nothing freaky I promise."

"No." Is all Robin awkwardly says, totally deadpan.

Alex waits for more, but nothing comes. After a moment she chuckles, picking up her own cup of tea and raising it to her lips to take a sip, but not before whispering out "No, what?" in a question.

"Ha. No. No he's not my boyfriend." Robin says as she plays with the hem of her denim cutoff shorts.

"Ah, too bad. He's a hottie." Alex shrugs and Robin stands confused. It's happening before she knows it started and Robin's dumpster fire of a brain starts rambling.

"Wait. What? No he's not my boyfriend he's my roommate and yeah we come here, we're still kinda new in town. We're actually from a small town - Hawkins - but what… I'm sorry I thought you said your ex-girlfriend liked pop music so… "

"Yeah. That's what I said." Alex takes another nonchalant sip of her steaming mug.

" So .. but Steve. He's… " Robin stutters out.

"Well he is hot isn't he?" The woman counters.

"I mean, yeah I guess. He has no trouble with the ladies if that's what you mean. Always Mr god-damned Popular cause he has perfect fuckin' hair but I swear they should see him in the morning, it's not all rainbows and butterflies then!" and the words just keep spouting out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Alex looks on at her, almost endearingly, as she lets her go and spit it all out. "You done?" She asks.

Robin nods, mutters an apology for her rambling and starts to head towards the door "I should go. Nice to meet you, Alex."

She shuffles her steps quickly in an attempt to bolt as far away as she can from the pretty girl who she just made a fool of herself in front of. God, I'm gonna have to tell Steve we need to find a new coffee place. Shit.

"Wait! Wait, sorry. I can be intense." Alex muses, kicking her feet at the chair next to where they stand, before looking back at Robin's flushing face. "Yes, I did say ex-girlfriend. I also said your whatever he is is hot. I'm not stalking you, I just must get my tea when you guys get your coffee and, I hope I don't make you totally run off in terror when I say this next part, but I'm gonna anyway - I have just been distracted by you guys. I thought you were both pretty hot and I was distracted by the coffee shop couple every time I'm here. You were solo today so I thought I'd break the ice. Sorry. I hope I'm not making this weird "

Robin's mouth is absolutely hanging open right now.

"Yeah, so the tables turned pretty quickly and I'm thinking I'm the one that should be embarrassed right now so, hopefully I see hot coffee shop couple around and I didn't totally scare you away from this place. "

"Oh God, no. The coffee is too good and too cheap for us to stop coming here. He's not my boyfriend. Steve is 100% my roommate and that's it, no coffee shop couple here. Yeah, he's hot but don't you ever tell him that. Christ, he doesn't need a bigger ego. And the last time I talked to a girl like you I think I peed my pants, so excuse me I'm going to go hurl myself off the Willis Tower, if that's okay with you?"

Alex lets out a deep laugh. A genuine one. She reaches out to touch Robin's forearm, to keep her there… or ground her, she's not sure which. "Please don't. I can't have you falling if it's not for me." and at that Robin's eyes go wide as saucers. "Are you free tomorrow? Maybe we could get dinner? Downtown. Meet here so it's not weird and sketchy first…that is, if your hot roommate doesn't mind I borrow you for a bit?"

She's stunned. Robin has never been asked out on a date before. Is this a date? Holy shit.

She musters up every ounce of courage she has to smile and nod. "I get off work at 6, so can we make it 7?" Only to be interrupted in that moment by the shrill chirping on her keychain signifying yet another dead digital pet.

A wide, sparkling smile spreads on Alex's face as she starts to head out the door, turning back to shout out "7:00, meet you here. Can't wait! "

And as soon as the bell on the door dings and she's sure it's shut, her brain starts catching up and Robin drops both cups of coffee on the floor.

Today, Murray is not entertained by Steve. Usually the banter between the pair has remained humorous and for the most part, friendly. Today Steve is just pissing him off.

First Steve dropped an entire shipping box of condoms, spilling single wrapped rubbers all over the floor. It took him an hour and twenty three minutes and three side-eyeing customers stepping over him to clean them all up. Then Steve knocked over the mannequins like dominoes after he struggled with the BDSM display Murray assigned to him for the second part of their shift. Robin snickered as Murray delegated the task to Steve, knowing damn well it was just to make the boy suffer. Robin watched gleefully, sitting at the register, resting her chin in her hand as Steve grumbled through the entire task. At one point, he was fumbling so much with all of the straps and buckles and ties that before he knew it the head of the mannequin he was attempting to gag toppled off its shoulders and knocked three other mannequins down in its wake. All Steve could do in response was throw the ball gag to the side as he stormed off, yelling back "Tell that asshole I took my 15! I'll deal with the bondage when I get back!"

As he marches off in anger, Murray does in fact slide over and lean down next to Robin. "How's Casanova doing? BDSM not his thing, I see?" He chuckles. Robin cocks a sideways grin at him shaking her head. "He doesn't even know what his thing is, Murray. He's just a lost little puppy."

"What about you, Red. You doing good?"

"Yeah, yeah I am. I think he's stressed because he's not really finding his thing. He's used to things coming easy for him and they're just… not here."

"What does Mr Hometown Heroes' emotional journey have to do with how you're doing, huh?"

"A lot, actually. He's absolutely a bumbling fucking idiot, but he is the kindest person I've ever known. He has a weird way of showing it, but that's because his parents are Grade A assholes. He's been more supportive to me than anyone on this planet and I am trying so hard to help him but I don't know how."

"Well, Red, this is a journey of lifelong self-discovery. Ya gotta learn to love thyself before you can love another. That goes for both of you, ya know?" and with that, he pushes off the glass countertop and saunters back to his office while humming an indistinguishable tune.

When Steve returns from his break Robin recognizes the look on his face. It's the one that comes back ready with his head in the game after an excruciatingly awkward pep talk he gave himself - out loud. If anything, all those years of organized sports at least gave him a method to get himself back on track.

That's why it was so abysmal to watch as he confidently tried to help a young customer, flowing brunette hair curled and brushed out into bouncy ringlets, asking in a tiny voice behind batting eyes to be pointed in the direction of the Ben Wa.

"Oh yeah, I got you covered on this! Haven't been here long and I never heard of those before our manager got one for us and just the other day I stopped in at this place that looked interesting… "

The customer's eyes narrow, not sure where Steve is going with this conversation just as Murray joins in next to Robin to watch the drama unfold. He brought popcorn this time and was audibly chomping on it with an open mouth behind a gaping smile. "I gotta see where he's going with this." Tilting the bag towards Robin in an offering as they watch.

"Yeah, so if you just go down the block a few more streets you'll see a place on the corner. It actually says Ben Wa on the window, so you will definitely see it when you get there. I was surprised at how much I liked it!" Steve says to the miffed young lady as she is heading for the door. "Have a great day! Enjoy!" Steve yells after her.

"What the hell man! Where'd you send the good paying customer!" Murray outstretched his arm towards the door before reaching into his bag to throw a kernel of popcorn right square into Steve's forehead.

"What the fuck, Murray. She wanted to know where to get a fuckin sandwich. Last time I checked we don't sell sandwiches!" He yells as he spins his outstretched arms from left to right, showing off the wares inside the shop.

"A sandwich? You fuckin' small town nincompoop, no! Ben Wa. Ben Wa balls. She wanted to put 'em up her coochie you idiot!"

Beet red from holding back, Robin finally lets out a cackle that fills the entire store. "Oh my God, someone get me a white board! You gotta be shitting me. This is better than watching him sink at Scoops, hands down."

"Wa-what are you talking about? Ben Wa - like the sandwich from that Korean place? You got it for us for lunch three days ago!"

"Oh for the love of God. You're pretty but you're dumb. BAHN MI. Say it with me BAAHHHN MEEEE" he overemphasized.

"I-i… well.. what… what the fuck man! I don't know!"

Meanwhile, Robin is on the floor with tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

After Robin gets her shit together and Steve returns to his normal shade of sun kissed peach, ever the educator, Murray fills the pair in on what the customer was actually looking for. Pulling them over to a display case in the rear, a menagerie of colorful metallic, glass and silicone balls are laid out for viewing. All the sizes as big as or smaller than an egg, Murray explains both their practical use as well as how they can be used for pleasure.

"See some ladies come looking for these after they have a baby, nothing to do with getting off… for now at least … everything to do with tightening things back up again. Just a run of the mill afternoon at the vaginal gym shesh." Steve grimaces as the analogy but nods in understanding. "Girls …or guys - might use them to stretch themselves out a bit and train their holes." Robin looks on, fully engaged and taking all the information in earnest. "They have little weights inside though, so if you're wearing them for a while or they're jostling around there's a whole lotta movement in there if you know what I mean. A few tugs on those strings and you got yourself a party."

The rest of the day goes off without a hitch, but gnawing at the back of Robin's mind are a bright red pair of Ben Wa balls from the display case, round and smooth and silicone, shaped like two cherries on a lime green stem. She's never owned a toy before, and she's feeling kind of intrigued, so while Steve is in the employee room gathering his things and clocking out, Robin seizes the opportunity to pull the toy from the case and ring it up quickly. She rings up the amount, and hastily keys in her employee discount before slipping them into her satchel just before Steve returns to the floor.

Robin has increasingly spent her free time idling around town and making her own discoveries. She finds herself often at a community park enjoying some local outdoor music that pops up regularly on the weekends and has stumbled upon a vintage bookshop a few doors down from the coffee place that she has made a comfortable home in their reading nook a few days a week while also making fast friends with the laid back cashier there on the weekends.

Meanwhile Steve has failed at any attempt to casually find something he likes to do on his own and, as evident today at work, there's something that's got him stressed and Robin thinks this is it. He tried to join her at the community park, but he has yet to get into any of the music they're playing and he joined her once at the bookstore when she excitedly wanted to share her big find with her friend, but he just didn't get the hype after sitting there thumbing through a book he had no interest in actually reading. The apartment doesn't have any cable, and there's only so much coffee shop and Tamagotchi a guy pushing 30 can handle. Needless to say, city life isn't coming as naturally for Steve as it is for Robin and that is throwing him for an absolute loop.

After a long talk on the fire escape over a cigarette, Robin actually had some wise insight into Steve's problem. "Dude, it's because you don't have any hobbies! Tell me one thing you've ever done because you chose to do it?"

"Robs, I played sports for years! Of course I have hobbies!"

"No. That's not what I mean. Who signed you up for those? Who made sure you made the varsity team your first year? Who told you to run laps? Do you still play them now? Just cause you convinced yourself you liked it, doesn't mean you actually did."

And that resonated with Steve. He thought about why he actually liked all the baseball, all the nights on the basketball court and all the swim meets - it wasn't because he actually liked the sports, he liked how it made him feel to win. For his dad to give a shit every once in a while. For his teammates to need him. So Steve stayed up late that night, gazing at the stars on that fire escape and thinking long and hard about how he has spent his time - team sports that his dad got him into that eventually made himself feel useful, dialing up radio stations that played music he heard at other people's parties and cassette tapes of other people's favorite songs in his glove compartment, cooking meals that he has to or else he wouldn't be fed.

The only damn thing he ever chose to do himself was watch out for those godforsaken kids back home and even through all his griping about them, it was always worth it. But driving a bunch of preteens around doesn't constitute an interest. "Fuck man, I don't even know myself." He muses into the late night sky, taking one last long drag before closing the window behind himself and idling off to bed.

The next day, the two had a late start at The Hideout, and Robin threw her satchel over her shoulder while yelling out to Steve "Dingus, I'm going out to the bookshop for a bit. Need anything while I'm out?"

"Nah Robs, I'm good."

"Kay - don't miss me while I'm out and you're home sulking!" She pokes, and the door clicks shut behind her leaving him in the quiet. Steve reaches for the radio and as he dials the station over to filter out the static and he's immediately back to thinking about last night. Why am I even putting on this station? I don't even think I like these songs, do I? He thinks to himself. So Steve sets out that morning to try and figure something out about himself.

Inspired by the records displayed every week at the coffee shop, Steve finds himself fingering through bins of Vinyls at a record shop he found as he walked about the neighborhood. "Anything we can help you with, man?" the employee asks as he approaches.

" Uh yeah. Actually I think…I mean, I think I want to get some records."

" Oh bud, happy to help! What are you into and what kind of player do you have?"

Steve stares at the man, stubble on his jawline, in a fitted yellow Queen T Shirt that looks worn and soft coupled with his ripped denim. A man that looks like he knows what he likes. Steve's stare is blank and he's absolutely at a loss. "I'm sorry, I have no idea. I should go."

"My brother, music is for everyone. Let me hook you up and we'll figure it out. No need to stress."

The man spends the next hour showing Steve how to use a basic model record player. They try out a few different vinyls to see what he might like. After a while, the pair have a stack piled up next to the record player - Queen, Fleetwood Mac, Tears for Fears, Red Hot Chili Peppers and a few others littered with popular music and rock artists he didn't really know by name before - and Steve is checking out.

As he's getting ready to hand over a stack of cash to the man that helped him discover what kind of music he likes, they're interrupted by a deep hum, "Now that's a nice stack you got there." Steve turns around and is a little taken aback by what he sees. It's you…and you're standing there all casual and comfortable, looking very at ease in the record shop. "Hey Brian. What's up?" You nod in the kind man's direction.

"Hey hot stuff, I got what you came for back here. Just let me finish up with this guy and I'll get you taken care of. "

"Hi" Steve waves in your direction. "I'm sorry." No one quite sure what he's actually apologizing for in the least.

"No need to be sorry, you were here first. I just came to pick up the new Pearl Jam record and I am in absolutely no rush."

"Pearl Jam?" Steve questions.

"Yeah man. Eddie Vedder? You might actually like it, all things considered." The man named Brian motions to the eclectic stack Steve has accumulated during his visit.

Looking back at you standing there, not impatiently, just smiling brighter than the sun, he mutters "Yeah cool. Yeah I mean, if you have another can I add that? I'll give it a try."

And as Steve loads up his wares in his arms and turns to leave, your charismatic smile finds him one last time, " I hope you like it… ." You draw out waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"Steve." He finishes for you.

You nod, "I hope you like it, Steve"

The next night at the apartment, Robin is gearing up for her date and she is absolutely in her head about it. She has asked Steve one hundred times today if he's sure this is a date. "But Stevie's she .. I really think she might just want to hang out and be friends."

"Robin, I swear to Christ if you don't just STOP this." Steve sucks in a clipped breath before continuing on. "It's a date. I'm one hundred percent sure this girl asked you on a date and you're going. Relax, please! Fuck, you're stressing me out and I have nothing to do with any of this!" Steve shouts for the last time tonight, leaving Robin in the bathroom doorway, staring at herself in the mirror trying to make herself presentable.

Through the damp hair falling into her vision and the steam still speckling on the mirror after her shower, the girl is trying desperately to hype herself up and get ready to spend time with Alex. But Robin is not a confident creature. She's starting to feel herself crawl back inside the cave forged deep in her personality and carved into the bedrock of Hawkins, Indiana. "I gotta fuckin' snap out of this." She says to her reflection, splashing water on her face and retreating back to her bedroom.

She hears the new and welcome sound of vinyl scratching from Steve's bedroom, before the reverberation of Fleetwood Mac's The Chain blares loudly through the walls. She sighs, sitting there still wrapped in her towel from after her shower, mind wandering to Alex and her tall, thin frame. Still not sure how a girl like that was referring to her as the hot one, Robin's thoughts drift to the deep black of the woman's mascara, fanning her eyelashes out and emphasizing her deep green eyes. She thinks about how she was too much of a spaz to appreciate the curve of her cupid's bow and she's still not sure if she was imagining the softness of the swell of her hips or not.

Mixed up in thought, Robin's forearms graze the front of her towel and the rough material scratches at her exposed nipples underneath. She lets out a wispy gasp, not realizing just how turned on she was until that second. Her mind is racing. She looks at the clock and sees she has 20 minutes until she needs to head downstairs to the shop to meet Alex. Immediately she eyes her bedside table, knowing those deep red, cherry Ben Wa balls are sitting just inside. She thinks about what Murray has been saying and all of his preaching about “loving thyself before you can love another, Red!" and with one last racing thought of the woman who actually wants to take her on a date… out in public, she's clamoring for the drawer.

She has never been more grateful that Steve has picked up a new interest, and that it was a loud one, because as she lets the towel draping her body loosen while she's leaning back into her soft cotton pillowcases she lets out a soft whimper before she's even touched herself once. Robin tentatively lets her soft hands and glossy nails trace the outline of her slit, delicately rubbing and pressing on where she needs it most and experimentally flicking the hood of her clit. After considering things one last time, she purses her eyes closed tight and holds her breath as she guides one of the cherry balls inside her opening.

The gasp that leaves her throat this time isn't soft and quiet and she finds herself gyrating and writhing as she rubs and tugs at the cherry stems attached to her toy. The weights inside are rolling and undulating just like Murray said they would, sending vibrations up and back down her body. Robin feels filthy, thinking about Alex as she uses her free hand to rub at her clit while still pressing in and tugging at the ball with her other, but not filthy enough to deny how much she is enjoying this game she is playing with herself.

Robin's eyes are rolled back in her head as her orgasm rushes over her, the weights of the ball continuing to move and rattle inside coax her through her comedown. Thighs shaking and breath stuttering, she lets out a deep sigh "Holy fuckin' shit. I love my job."

Fumbling and running late after her little self-love session, Robin bounds through the doors of the coffee shop a little dramatically. As part of her grand entrance, she knocks her hip into the chair of the two-top situated right inside the entryway and doubles over at the pain. "Shit." She means to whisper, but instead says at a volume loud enough to reach the back of the shop, and if the entrance alone didn't alert Alex to her arrival, she certainly would have heard that.

The barista greets Robin cheerfully by name just as Alex walks up to greet her with her hand outstretched, coffee cup there as an offering to break the ice. "I thought you might need a pick me up after work. She hooked me up with your usual order, so… "

Robin feels her freckles burn at the gesture, like they do after a day at the lake in the sun. She catches Alex's eyes scanning her body and she feels her chest flush, no doubt accentuated by the emerald green satin tank that's cut a bit lower than she usually ventures. The deep color making her hair, her eyes and her fair skin pop, covered by a cropped denim jacket DIY frayed at the edges has definitely caught her date's eye.

"I wanted to pop into this Gallery I really love, if you don't mind indulging my creative side tonight? It's a great spot and… there's a graphic artist showing there now I just gotta check out before it's gone. It's this amazing social commentary on pregnancy as a lesbian. Like a totally butch lesbian decides to get pregnant with her partner, so what now? It's just… I gotta see it. The diversity at this place is phenomenal."

Robin's wide eyes are not white in astonishment this time, but instead they're with pure intrigue and reverence. Knowing that not only are there people like her in this city, but enough people that feel the same or respect it enough to go to an art gallery to check out doodles about a pregnant butch lesbian and it's not the butt of a homophobic joke is… enthralling to her. She nods vehemently "Hell yeah, that sounds… really amazing. I mean… I'm not used to that kind of transparency, so, yeah. Let's do it."

And as they turn to leave the shop, coffee and tea in respective hands, Robin feels the tickle of a finger brushing her open palm. Barely registering what is happening, she finds herself in a brief yet unnecessary panic as she feels Alex's hand settle in, intertwined with hers. She can't help but scan her surroundings for passerby oggling the two women holding hands and walking down the sidewalk, but she saw not one the whole walk down the block to the train platform. The thrill of holding a pretty lady's hand out in public is sending tingles up her spine, or maybe it's the gentle, internal humming of the Ben Wa balls she opted to keep inside for the evening, but Robin could definitely get used to this. She smirks at herself as they ascend the steps towards the incoming train and asks curiously,"So tell me, what's this artist's name?

Meanwhile, Robin just missed Steve on the same platform not 10 minutes earlier. Shortly after Robin finally headed out, Steve found himself standing in the kitchen staring at a barren refrigerator - nothing more than a carton of milk, some OJ and a row of eggs left in there for him to choose from. He tries not to be irritated at his current situation, but he can't help the groan he lets out as he reaches for the phone, readying himself to order way too much pizza for one lonely guy on his couch late at night.

Before he finishes dialing he shakes his head, thinking about how he doesn't have to keep himself cooped up here. He has done so much on his own, but all of that was such a… necessity. Is it really that crazy to go off and do something alone without it being totally pitiful? "I mean, Robin goes places by herself all the time." He muses to himself.

So that's how he found himself hopping off the train downtown and wandering into the first restaurant that looked reasonable and … good. Not just food but something he might actually enjoy tasting. It's a quaint Italian place. Authentic, by the looks of it. Walls lined with corked bottles of olive oil and limoncello, twinkle lights strewn over the white lattice work ceiling, the unmistakable smell of carbohydrates and garlic.

This is yet another something he hasn’t ever done before. Not just a quick bite or a fast food, but instead going out to a proper restaurant and sitting down for a real meal. Solo. Alone. Alone but NOT lonely, he thinks. In the past 24 hours since Robin pointed out that he never does anything for himself that he enjoys, he has done a lot of introspection and has made it a point to seek out new experiences hoping something will stick. Sitting at the cozy little restaurant place downtown adorned with faux plants, and filled with tables of other guests, he finds himself so grateful to have Robin’s perspective and support. So instead of worrying about how he's not sharing the table with a date, or Robin or anyone else for that matter, he's toasting to her, in absentia.

On the other side of town, Robin and Alex find themselves tucked into a booth at a dimly lit, definitely more trendy than she’s ever experienced before in her life, kind of bar. Alex has the table filled with an assortment of bites to eat and has ordered up all of the bartender's signature drinks on a mission to get Robin to broaden her horizons and shake that small town dust off of her coattails. “Ok, so, we have to find something here that you’re into. You can’t just tell me warm beer or straight shots are your drinks of choice - every city girl’s gotta have their go-to cocktail.”

Robin first confidently grabs at the Manhattan from the selections laid out in front of hrr, recognizing the deep amber of the liquid and the familiar smell of whiskey that reminds her of Steve. It is quickly after she brings it to her lips that she sputters it back out, spraying the cocktail over her hand and most likely, her date. Alex says nothing about it, eyeing the ruby red blush on Robin’s cheeks and chest, but she stifles a small laugh before she says “Got it. No whiskey cocktails. Check. Here, here…cleanse your palate.” She says, handing her a small plate filled with creamy green, roasted artichokes splayed out like a lotus flower. “They’re the best in the city. Stuffed artichokes - ya know? They’re my favorite. Doesn’t hurt that they’re an aphrodisiac, huh?”

And if Robin hadn’t already spit out that whiskey drink, she definitely would have at that. So bold. So brazen. Dumbfounded that even at how blatant Alex has been with her flirting all night, it didn’t prepare her for that comment and the implications it held behind her eyes. And when Robin didn’t move to immediately grab a bite, Alex instead responded by picking up a delicate stuffed petal and holding it out to Robin’s pillowy lips, urging her to open up. She tentatively parted those lips and took a bite, wide-eyed at the flavor and simultaneously at the way Alex’s eyes remained locked on hers.

Before the end of the date, Robin had successfully spilled a cup of water, knocked over the salt shaker and tried sips of 6 different cocktails before she settled in with a bright orange and red drink in a highball glass, lips wrapped around the straw and playing with the stem of the cherry hanging over the side of her glass. “This one is definitely a winner.” She grins, as she turns to look at Alex, excited to have found something that she likes while simultaneously excited that she finds she doesn’t really care that she did no less than 10 embarrassing things on this date anymore. She doesn’t feel embarrassed in the least and that is still a pretty new feeling for her.

“Why am I not surprised? I should have known.” Alex laughs out.

Robin shrugs, a questioning look in her eye as she sucks down the last of the drink, rattling the ice as the straw drains the cup of the last of it, loud enough to turn a head in the booth next to theirs when she forgets she’s someplace a certain level of chic that Hawkins must repel just by its sheer podunk nature.

Alex leans in close, right next to Robin’s ear to whisper, but makes sure she pulls back just as quickly to watch the flush spread over her freckled face like she knew it would “I should have known you’d like Sex on the Beach.” Sealed with a wink.

And with that, the ice wasn’t the only thing rattling anymore, as Robin is keenly reminded as she feels the shudder travel up and down her spine that she chose to keep those Ben Wa balls.

"And she said what to you? Oh yeah, your date wants to get in your pants. For SURE.” Steve said as the cool edge of a frosted mug hit his tongue. It was a long day at The Hideout and they barely had time to shoot the shit between odd jobs and a colorful group of customers, and Robin got in so late last night that he didn’t even get to grill her about her date when she rolled in. Disregard the fact that Steve was tucked soundly in his bed after a nice warm belly full of pasta and red wines (who knew, he liked red wine? He sure didn’t). After such a long day, and the bet hanging in the air, the pair stumbled upon a local dive bar on their walk home and that’s where they find themselves now - unwinding and finding themselves totally relaxed in the warm, dimly lit and unceremonious Benny’s Taproom.

“God, Steve, I don’t want to talk about it!”

“What do you mean, you don’t want to talk about it? You owe me three drinks and you’ve gotta spill your guts, Robbie.”

“Ahhh, I don’t want to hear about the bet, Steve! I’ve been a little distracted. My keychain has been the least of my worries, genius.”

“Excuses, excuses.” he winks, the beer tasting even better knowing it was his prize for caring for his tamagotchi much better than his friends, just as he suspected. Robin cycled through three whole pets so far, while Steve’s has grown into a thriving, young thing and he gloats about it every moment he can. “Now, spill it. I need to know the details about your date, Robin. Stop avoiding this.”

As they sit there arguing over digital pets and sharing (or avoiding) stories of their night prior, a gravely ahem comes from over the bar as the gruff, stone faced and bearded man behind it places his hands wide on the counter in front of the two friends. “If you’re in my bar, drinking my drinks, then you gotta share, missy. This place is boring lately, and you guys are fresh meat, so please…entertain us with your stories. I gotta live for something around here.” he sternly says to the two, before he smiles wide and says “If you’re here, you’re family, so listen to your friend and give us the scoop, for God sakes!”

Robin tells them about her first date - about all of the coy flirting, about all of the embarrassing things that didn’t feel so terribly embarrassing in front of her date, about all of the appetizers and cocktail tastings, about the menu items spread out on their table with double entendres and that Alex kept ordering things she kept referring to as Aphrodisiacs “I swear I thought aphrodisiac was another word for Oysters, and then I thought that it meant something sexual just because … oysters. They’re like…ya know.” as she blinks her eyes downwards to her lap.

“Oh honey, he is into you.” Jim breathes out as he adjusts to lean back against the sink with his arms crossed.

Maybe it was Robin’s tight-lipped smile in response to that, or maybe it was how Steve gargled his last sip of beer right back into the mug before setting it down on the ratty old, stained coaster on the bar, but Jim’s eyes flitted between the pair looking for the information he must certainly be missing.

“Ah!” He claps his hands together as he takes Steve’s mug, swirls it around eyeing the backwash, throws it in the sink and fetches another one. He immediately moves over to the tap to refill it while noting “Alex…. He’s a she…isn’t she?”

Jim leans over the bar, braced on his elbows and spends the next twenty minutes telling her that she's just had a taste of what the city has to offer. .. a taste of dating. A taste of Alex. And if she's feeling like that - if one taste is making her feel so so good, it's worth embracing it and diving right in.

The artist referenced in this Chapter is A.K. Summers who did, in fact host an exhibit at a Chicago Gallery in 1993. See her work Pregnant Butch here

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