complexfemalecharacter | [steve

Entry tags:

steve

[steve - december 18]

It's probably dumb, but Maeve is actually sort of nervous about the party. The last time she went out and got herself a pretty dress and went somewhere like this with a boy, he'd ended up just getting drunk and ignoring her, leaving her feeling like shit, and then her brother's stupid crap had ended up getting her kicked out of school.

She tries telling herself it's different this time. Steve isn't like Jackson, for one, even if she hasn't figured out what the hell she's doing with him yet. And there's no school to get kicked out of, no Sean to fuck things up for her. No Otis to be an idiot at her, no Ola to make her feel even more like garbage.

It's just a party, she's told herself. One that could be a lot of fun if she let it. So she'd gone to her favourite second hand shop and searched until she found the dress, somehow the perfect fit for her and the right price. She has silver shoes and a little silver shawl to go over it, and she's done her hair up, swept back on one side, curled and cascading over her shoulder on the other.

She's even wearing less makeup. Not no makeup, but the black liner isn't quite so heavy and she's taken off some of her jewelry.

All in all, she feels quite pretty. She also can't stop nervously bouncing her knee as she sits on the couch and waits for Steve to arrive.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Steve definitely isn't new to parties. He's not even new to this particular party, since he went last year, but he's still kind of nervous, because this time he has a real date. Just a date, not a girlfriend, because they still haven't tackled that particular conversation.

Still, he asked Maeve to go to the party with him, and she said yes, so that feels like a start.

He even got a suit, because this is a formal party and an important event, he hopes, and he wants to look his best. Plus, he knows that Maeve will look beautiful, no matter what she wears, so he wants to look good next to her.

Steve walks to her apartment building so he can smoke a cigarette and calm himself down, and then pulls up the rideshare app to request a car as he's walking through the lobby of her building, so it'll be ready to go when they are. He blows out a breath on the way up in the elevator, and straightens his tie and his hair as he walks to her door.

By the time he gets to Maeve's door, he's more excited than nervous. He just wants to see her, because he hasn't seen her in two days, and he misses her. The thought makes him smile, and he reaches up to knock on her door.

He looks really, really good.

That's the first thing Maeve thinks when she opens the door and Steve is on the other side in his suit, his hair kind of perfect, like it always is, smelling vaguely of cigarette smoke. She knows a lot of people don't like the smell, but she does, had been smoking out the window of her bedroom herself half an hour before, and she smiles at him, stepping to the side so he can come in. They'll have a few minutes, she knows, before their car gets here, and she still needs to grab a few things.

"Hi," she says, biting her thumbnail as she looks at him, her expression almost shy. Then she wrinkles her nose, squinting a little, and grins. "You look really good."

Wow.

"Me? Come on, you look amazing," Steve tells her seriously, unable to take his eyes off of her even as he comes into the apartment. He stares at her face, and the sweep of her hair, and the way her dress hugs her curves. He's a bit dazed for a moment, and he leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

He was so distracted by how good she looks that he almost forgot what he needs to do before they leave, and the way that she's looking at him makes him less nervous about it.

"There should be a car downstairs soon," Steve tells her, biting his lip as he shoves one hand into the pocket of his slacks, where a key card rests. "But I wanted to tell you about your present first."

"It's not Christmas for another eight days," Maeve points out, although there's an undeniable tremor in her stomach, something like excitement. She's never done this before. Otis had given her a birthday gift, which had gotten him punched, even though she really had liked the gift, but this is different.

Steve is different.

The more time that goes by, the more Maeve realizes they're going to have to work this out eventually. Because she likes him and she doesn't want to screw this up and the longer she goes without making the proper effort to name this, the more she worries she'll fuck it up by refusing to talk about it.

“Ah, right. But I can’t wait that long. Also, I didn’t know if your birthday rules extended to Christmas,” Steve tells her with a playful smirk, biting his lip as he fingers the card in his pocket.

He could have gotten Maeve something tangible, and maybe he still will, but this seemed like a good compromise for now. His cheeks go a little warm and he clears his throat, stepping closer to her and pulling the key card from his pocket.

“I got us a room up at Kagura for the weekend,” he tells her, holding the key card out for her to take. “Jacuzzi tub, mini bar, the whole works. I thought it’d be nice to get away for a bit.”

He huffs out a laugh, and then shrugs helplessly. “As much as we can, anyway.”

It's a really, really sweet gesture.

Maeve's lips part in surprise and she feels a wave of something she can't quite name. She isn't used to people being nice to her, even after all these months in Darrow, and she certainly isn't used to guys not being dicks most of the time. If anyone is the dick in this situation, though, she knows it's her. It isn't Steve. He's been nothing but really amazing right from the start, which is part of why she doesn't know what the hell she's doing.

"So we're gonna fuck in the big fancy tub, yeah?" she asks before she can stop herself and then she shakes her head, big eyes wide, looking at Steve. "I'm joking, I'm sorry, it's... it's really sweet, Steve. It's amazing."

It makes her feel special. No one has ever made her feel special.

"When?" she asks, pressing her lips between her teeth again, smiling at him, hoping he isn't pissed she made a joke before she said something nice.

The comment startles a laugh of Steve, and it's a fond sound. He loves how bold Maeve is, and how she doesn't shy away from talking about sex. She doesn't pretend to be coy. She doesn't pretend to be anything, actually, and Steve respects the hell out of that.

"What? Don't be sorry," Steve assures her, smiling warmly as he steps in closer and rests his hands on her arms. "We're definitely going to fuck in the big fancy tub."

He knows that Maeve doesn't think that he's just taking her up there for sex. At least, he's pretty sure she knows that. He hopes that she does.

"This weekend. I thought we could take a car up there after the party," he tells her, sliding his hands up and down her arms. "I wanted to surprise you."

For a moment she feels almost shy, chewing on her thumbnail as she smiles at Steve and then she nods. It's a good surprise, a good gift, and she feels almost like she doesn't deserve it.

But then, with Steve, it feels like she doesn't deserve a lot of these good things. He's a good guy, just like Jackson was, and she worries she's just going to mess it up by being too much herself.

"Yeah," she says, her smile growing. "So should I pack now?"

"Yeah, just whatever you need for the weekend," Steve tells her, relieved and happy that she seems excited for the idea. He leans in to cup her cheek and give her a kiss, smiling against her mouth before pulling back to look at her. "There's stuff to do up there but we hopefully we won't be leaving the room too much."

He grins and kisses her again before stepping away and heading for her bedroom. "I can help, if you want. My stuff's already up there."

Earlier that day, he went to check in just so they wouldn't have to deal with it later, and dropped his bag on the way. "We can check your bag with the coats at the party, and take a car up there when we're ready to go."

He's actually kind of proud of himself, because it seems like he thought of everything, which is good. He really wants this to be great, because Maeve deserves to be treated great.

"You're really prepared," she says and her tone is almost suspicious. Guys don't generally do things like this, not for her, not for anyone. Jackson had been a good guy and he still wouldn't have been this thoughtful. Maybe Otis would have been, if he'd ever been able to pull his head out of his own ass, but she'll never know now.

Steve is thoughtful. Sometimes Maeve still doesn't know what to do with that. She's never had thoughtful, not even from her own family.

In her bedroom, Maeve finds a bag in her closet and begins to put her things inside. Some clothes, a pair of shoes, even a bathing suit she had bought in the summer, not realizing she would need it for the winter, too.

Steve notices the slight shift in her tone, and wonders if maybe this is all too much. Maybe she doesn't want stuff like this from him. A weekend getaway isn't actually casual, he supposes.

Before he can start to overthink things too much, he lifts his head and watches as she stuffs things into a bag. She seems excited, and if Maeve really didn't want to go, she would probably just tell him that. It's one of the things that he likes about her.

"I brought the essentials," he tells her in a jokingly serious tone. "For the previously mentioned sex in a tub."

"Oh good, we wouldn't want to find ourselves without condoms in a hotel where they probably leave them propped up with the little shampoo and soap," she teases with a smile thrown over her shoulder at him.

After she's got her clothing packed, she moves to the bathroom, putting makeup and her toothbrush and deodorant in a little toiletries bag that she then shoves into the bigger bag. Once she's done, she returns to Steve and shoves the bag against his chest, then rises onto her toes so she can kiss him over the top of it.

"This is really nice," she says again. "Thank you."

"Excuse you, I also got champagne," Steve tells her as she zips up her bag. "And some bath bomb thing that I don't understand but came highly recommended by the uppity sales guy."

He grips her bag and leans into the kiss, waiting for her to pull away before shifting the bag to his side, feeling his nerves melt away. This doesn't have to be a big thing. They can just go and have fun together. That's what's most important.

"Are you ready to go?" Steve asks as he follows her into the living room. "I can request a car."

"What's complicated about a bath bomb?" Maeve asks, looking around for her shoes so she can slide her feet into the silver heels. They're decidedly not something she would wear usually, but they go with the theme of the night and she actually feels really pretty when she's wearing them.

Hopefully she doesn't twist her bloody ankle.

"Is it one of those ones that's going to leave glitter in every bloody crevice we have?" she asks, turning to look at Steve with a grin before she nods that she's ready to go.

"We didn't have them in the eighties. We had like, Mr. Bubble," Steve says with a shrug, distracted from the conversation by the flex of her legs and and ass in that tight dress as she steps into her heels, but the mention of glitter brings him back. "What? I hope not. It just looked blue."

He nods and requests a car on the app on his phone, which is still kind of wild to him, even after almost a year and a half of being here. Some things are just so insanely easy here, and he's not sure that he'll ever get used to it.

Thankfully there's one close, so they head downstairs to wait. It's kind of freezing outside and Maeve doesn't have a jacket, so Steve sets her bag down and takes off his suit jacket so that he can put it over her shoulders, leaning in to kiss the side of her neck as he does.

"Can't have you freeze before we get to the party," he teases, kissing her again before stepping away to pick up the bag. "Then who would I dance with?"

Maeve snorts in amusement and says, "You'd probably have a line up. Maybe not of appropriately aged women, but all those little teen boys who hang around you?"

Then she grins and arches her eyebrow at Steve. He's not a jackass and he doesn't lead them on or anything, but that skinny loud one with the glasses who works at the record store spends about half his time at the store just looking at Steve and trying not to get caught.

"Oh, yeah, one of them would dance with you for sure," she promises. "You'll always have options."

"Ugh, kids are so much easier before puberty hits," Steve jokes, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. He knows that he has kind of a unique relationship with that group of kids, but it's kind of holdover from the gaggle of them that he had at home. He's explained that to Maeve, at least in vague terms, so he's pretty sure that she gets it.

"As comforting as it is to know that I have a gaggle of lanky teenage boys at my disposal," he teases, quirking a brow at her as the car pulls up, "I only have eyes for you."

And it's true, too. Normally with parties like these, Steve would be going stag and eager to see who he might find there, and what they might get up to, but not this time. Tonight, he has a date, and he want to spend a reasonable amount of time with her at the party before whisking her away to a hotel suite so they can have sex in a giant tub.

"Come on," he says happily, opening the car door for her. "I have a bunch of pubescent boys to impress."

"Does it help, knowing you don't have to try very hard?" she asks with a grin as she gets into the car and stashes her bag on the seat beside her, tucking it against the door. "With them, I mean, I still have very high expectations. Lots of drinks and dinners and... what else do people do when they're courting someone?"

She uses that word on purpose -- courting -- because she thinks the formality of it will make Steve laugh and because it takes the pressure off her trying to work out what they are or aren't.

"Ooh, flowers?" she asks. "Plenty of flowers, too."

Steve does laugh at the word, but he can't help but to wonder if that really is what he's doing, and more importantly: is it working?

They climb into the back of the car and Steve double checks the address before setting his phone down and twisting a bit to face Maeve, reaching out to rest his hand on her knee.

"Is that what you really want?" He asks in a low voice, leaning in to bump her nose with his before giving her a soft kiss. "Lots of flowers?"

"Oh, yeah, you know me," Maeve says with a fond roll of her eyes before she kisses Steve again. "I definitely expect loads of flowers. All over the flat, really. Very high maintenance, me. I figure you'd've worked all that out by now."

She leans against him in the back of the car, chewing on her lower lip to hide her smile. All this is still unfamiliar to her. She likes Steve. She likes being with Steve, but she still never knows if she's doing this right or if she's just fucking everything up.

"Yeah, I've definitely picked up on that," Steve says sarcastically, leaning over to press kisses along the curve of her cheek, down behind her ear to a spot he knows is ticklish. "Lots of flowers. Trails of them to the bed, got it."

He spends the rest of the drive holding her hand, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles. He just wants to be touching her, like all the time. Not just for sex but like always, and he's pretty sure that means something big.

But he doesn't have to think about that tonight. He just has to have fun with a beautiful girl.

When the car pulls up to the mansion, Steve slides out and holds out his hand to help her out, making a show of bowing dramatically.

"God," Maeve says, rolling her eyes, but she's also trying to hide her smile as she takes Steve's hand and gets out of the car. She grabs her bag on the way out, feeling a little like she's headed out for a sleepover -- not that she'd ever done that as a kid -- and she'll be glad to stash the bag with her coat once they're inside.

"So are these parties always... like this?" she asks as they approach, gesturing at the mansion. It's intimidating. Much more intimidating than Aimee's house had ever been, maybe because she'd known Aimee from the time they were kids. Going into this house now, she doesn't know if anyone familiar will be here besides Steve.

Usually Maeve is good about hiding when she's feeling intimidated, but that's usually because she has her armour with her; her clothes, her boots, all the heavy makeup and jewelry. Today she has none of that.

"The mansion parties? Yeah, they're always over the top," Klaus tells her, taking her bag from her and sliding it over his shoulder as he reaches for her hand. She's looking at the mansion with a little bit of apprehension as they approach, and he thinks that it's only because he's getting to know her that he's able to see it.

"But they're fun though, because they're full of people from all over, just like the city," he tells her in a casual tone, because he doesn't want her thinking that this is going to be some event where they're supposed to act a certain way. "You could like, dance with a princess and go have a beer with a dude who's never seen electricity before. Wild."

They make it inside and step over to the coat check, taking his jacket from Maeve and sliding it back on, before taking the one she has underneath it and checking it along with her bag.

"Okay," he says excitedly, resting his hand on her lower back as they head into the large entryway. "We should get a drink first, right?"

Unlike most of the people she went to school with, Maeve isn't much of a drinker. She drinks sometimes, mostly because other people are doing it, and now seems as good a time as any. A drink might help calm her nerves a little, make her feel like she might fit in a little bit better.

It isn't Steve she's nervous about, but the whole party itself. It's so much bigger and fancier than she's used to. Not even Aimee's house looked like this.

"Yeah," she agrees. "We need drinks."

Maeve is tough. Steve knows that. She's a total badass and can handle herself, but she puts on a brave face sometimes, even when she feels uneasy or out of place. Maybe Steve can recognize it because he would do the same thing from time to time, but for him it was more about fitting in than standing out. He conformed to the rich white guy stereotype without much of a fight.

Okay, so maybe it isn't the same, because she's tough whereas he was kind of a pussy until something happened that made him start to change, but the point is that he can tell that she's kind of nervous.

"You know, whenever you want to bail and head for the hotel, just say the word," Steve says as they approach the bar. He peruses over the specials menu and hands it over to her. "Trust me, I won't complain."

Given the choice between a fancy party or potentially wet and naked Maeve, there's absolutely no contest.

[steve - december 18]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)