Maeve Wiley (
complexfemalecharacter) wrote2021-05-05 07:29 pm
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Maeve absolutely cannot believe she's doing this.
It's very possible she loves Steve. She knows she likes him very much, obviously enough that she's willing to go camping with him when camping doesn't really seem like something she's going to enjoy that much. In Darrow, though, they can't exactly get away and while Maeve is mostly perfectly fine with that, it seems like Steve wants to have some kind of getaway.
She would never consider herself high maintenance, but there's something about sleeping in a tent she finds a little perilous and she isn't even sure why. And Maeve isn't used to feeling uncertain, so she tries not to let it show as she packs up a bag, trying to work out what she's supposed to bring camping. They might only be going for a night, but they'll be sleeping outside. In a tent.
"Steve?" she calls, looking at her bag. He's in the living room, finishing up their supplies, and she has no idea what the hell she's doing. "What do I bring to sleep in? How cold is it going to be?"
It's very possible she loves Steve. She knows she likes him very much, obviously enough that she's willing to go camping with him when camping doesn't really seem like something she's going to enjoy that much. In Darrow, though, they can't exactly get away and while Maeve is mostly perfectly fine with that, it seems like Steve wants to have some kind of getaway.
She would never consider herself high maintenance, but there's something about sleeping in a tent she finds a little perilous and she isn't even sure why. And Maeve isn't used to feeling uncertain, so she tries not to let it show as she packs up a bag, trying to work out what she's supposed to bring camping. They might only be going for a night, but they'll be sleeping outside. In a tent.
"Steve?" she calls, looking at her bag. He's in the living room, finishing up their supplies, and she has no idea what the hell she's doing. "What do I bring to sleep in? How cold is it going to be?"
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"I say nothing, if I get a vote!" Steve calls back in response to her question, and finishes zipping up the tent bag before heading back towards the bedroom to answer her question a bit more seriously. "It shouldn't be too bad, and we'll be sharing body heat in a sleeping bag. Sweats and a t-shirt should be fine."
She looks a bit overwhelmed, so Steve steps up behind her and puts his hands on her hips, leaning in to press a kiss to the side of her neck. "Are you sure you want to go? We don't have to."
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It's not exactly something her mother would have known how to do. Sean would have claimed he could take her camping and then he would have gotten distracted and fucked up on something, which would have been fine. Camping isn't something that's ever really been on Maeve's to-do list.
But Steve wants to go. And for all Maeve claims she will never change herself for a stupid boy -- and she won't -- she still wants to do things that Steve likes to do. He does a lot of stuff for her, after all, he listens to her rants about feminism in media and supports her when she needs to study or get an assignment done. She can sleep in a tent for him.
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While he's in the bedroom, he grabs a strip of condoms from the dresser along with a pack of wet wipes. Maeve's on the pill, but better safe than sorry, especially given her past experience. Neither of them want to be parents, and Steve doesn't ever want her to have to make that decision again, not after seeing the look on her face that day. Steve will happily wear a condom if it protects her from having to go through that.
Plus, condoms mean less mess!
"Then we used to go in high school sometimes. Very different vibe than the Boy Scout trips," he tells her, ducking into the bathroom to grab their toothbrushes. "Which reminds me that I need to run by the dispensary."
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"Just so you know, no matter how much I like you, I will hide behind you if there's a bear."
Maeve isn't scared of other people, she'll kick a man in the dick if he gets too close or if he pisses her off, but she's always lived in Moordale. There's not much in the way of wildlife there, unless she counts Cynthia's cat.
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He winks at her as he exits the bathroom, packing the last of the toiletries away in his backpack. "Oh, wait."
Steve ducks back into the bathroom and then comes back out holding up a roll of toilet paper, waving it back and forth in the air before putting it into his bag. "Can't forget this. I think that's everything."
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This is something Steve really wants and she figures she has to give it a try.
"And the food is all in the cooler?" she asks. "Is there an actual camp site or are we just driving out into the woods and hoping to find a flat place for the tent?"
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"It's a campsite, and it has a bathroom," he says with a laugh, looking over at her as he tugs on his backpack. "You've never really done this before, and what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you squat in the woods on your first outing? I packed the toilet paper because you never want to bet on what they'll have there."
He presses a quick kiss to her cheek and leaves the room, heading out to take in all the supplies he has laid out on the dining room table. "Damn, I really need to get a car."
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"So who's carrying all this?" she asks, at least partly joking before she steps forward and begins to shove some of the supplies into her bag. She has extra space, mostly because she'd convinced herself to bring only one book rather than the three she had initially thought to take along.
"If you get a car, I should probably get my license," she says as she rearranges things in her bag.
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They manage to get everything loaded up, and Steve smiles over at Maeve as they leave the apartment, locking the door behind them. "Ah, so it's going to be our car," he says with a laugh, but the thought pleases him. He likes sharing things with Maeve. He's always happier when she's around. "Well, I guess I'll let you drive it. As long as you occasionally fool around with me in the back."
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She's being a bit of a smartass, but with Steve, both those things are extremely possible.
Hefting the bags, she heads for the elevator and nudges the button with her elbow, then turns back to look at Steve, almost thoughtful. "I guess we could mess around in the backseat a bit. We could probably even shag back there, too, if you got one spacious enough."
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It was kind of sweet though, looking back. The cartoon character band-aids were a nice touch.
"But yes, I agree to these terms," he tells her with a smile, twisting around as they walk through the lobby so he can shoulder open the front door. The gray SUV indicated on the app is idling on the curb, and the guy looks a little alarmed as they start lumbering toward him. "We got it," Steve calls out to him. "Just pop the back?"
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"So they didn't crash and kill you," she says once they're loaded up and sitting in the back seat of the vehicle. "Obviously. But please don't let any of your Darrow teenagers drive us anywhere. I think I'd rather risk my own driving."
She's not necessarily a bad driver, she's just never learned.
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He opens the back door of the car and ushers Maeve in before climbing in after her and greeting the driver. On the drive to the campground, Steve tells Maeve about his car back home in a wistful sort of tone, and he decides that after they get back, he'll take a look at his finances and figure out if he can buy a car. It's doable, he's sure.
Once they're in the parking lot, Steve gets out of the car and starts to pull their things from the back, loading most of it up on his back and holding the cooler against his hip, leaving the rest for Maeve. "Okay, I already have our little pass thing, and we don't have to pack mule very far. You ready?"
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Is she ready? She's not certain, but they're here and she's willing to do this for Steve, which is more than she's been willing to do for most guys in her life. So she smiles and nods.
"Yeah, I'm ready," she tells him. "Lead the way and don't get us lost."
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He shows their pass at the small booth at the front of the campground and then leads Maeve along the trail, keeping his eyes on the signs telling him the way to their spot. It's kind of a long walk, but Steve had wanted a spot a little off the beaten path where they had access to the river and a little more privacy. Once they make it, Steve sticks their pass in the designated spot and then drops their stuff in the corner of the spot, a few feet away from the fire pit.
"Home sweet home." Immediately, he gets to work staking down the tarp and putting the tent together on top of it, smiling over at her as he does. "Do you want to grab some branches for the fire?"
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"Collecting sticks sounds more my speed," she admits with a twist of a smile before she steps carefully into the brush. Maeve would never think of herself as being high maintenance, she's just never had this kind of experience before. Erin wasn't exactly big on parenting at all, never mind taking her kids on camping trips.
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While Maeve is off finding firework, Steve manages to get the tent put up with minimal cursing, and then zips their sleeping bags together before laying them out inside. He tugs two travel pillows out of his backpack in tosses them in, and then drags in everything else that needs to stay in the tent.
Maeve is still not back by the time that he's done, so he heads over to the picnic table and starts laying out the food, taking two beers out of the cooler. He cracks on open and steps up onto the bench, taking a long sip before looking out into the trees.
"How's it going, babe?" He calls out, lifting his free hand to cup it next to his mouth. "Marco!"
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Carefully, she crouches and picks up a small stone. With a slow toss, she sends it off into the trees to her left, waiting for the sound of it crunching through bushes to distract Steve.
Then, just as carefully, she creeps through the brush, making sure not to make any noise, and coming up behind Steve on the other side of the site.
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"I know I come from the era of the slasher flick, but I was hoping for more of a romcom turned porno vibe," he says as he hops down off of the bench, taking the bundle of sticks from her arms and planting a kiss on her cheek. He heads over to the fire pit and dumps the wood, crouching down as he starts to arrange them for a fire.
"Besides, if this was a horror movie, I'd never survive," Steve says easily, smirking over at her as he balls up some dry grass for kindling. "I'm a hot, sex-having jock. I'd be done in the second act."
Once he gets the fire prepared, he pulls his lighter from his pocket and ignites it, since it's starting to get dark anyway. He leans down to blow on the kindling, then rocks back on his haunches and claps his hands together to wipe away any dirt, looking over at Maeve as he does. "But you've got a final girl vibe. I think you'd make it."
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"I'd make it," she agrees as Steve coaxes the fire into being. "Would've stood a better chance before I started sleeping with the hot jock, but I'd still make it. My dry, self-deprecating humour and tendency to read feminist literature makes me the unlikeable surprise survivor. Robin would be the proper final girl."
She's gorgeous, funny, smart and insecure. It's everything everyone always wants in the final girl.
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He opens the cooler and pulls out two bottles of beer, handing one over to Maeve before setting his own on the ground. After a bit of rifling through the pack, he unearths a pair of retractable cooking sticks that were in the shit Hopper borrowed.
"Wieners first?" He hands Maeve a stick and then pulls a pack of hot dogs out of the cooler. "Processed meat parts cooked over an open flame. Can't say I never spoil you."
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She can't help but laugh and once there's a hot dog on her stick, she carefully pokes it out over the fire before she turns slightly to root around in the cooler looking for the beer.
"So is this camping?" she asks, handing Steve two cans so he can open them. "Drinking and processed meat on a stick?"
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"Pretty much," he admits, turning his head to smile over at her. "You're not used to relaxing much, are you?"
It makes sense, given what he's learned of Maeve. She didn't have an upbringing like Steve. Yeah, his dad was a dick and his mom seemed more interested in her wine bottle than him most days, but he never had to worry about anything. Food, clothes, a place to live, money for activities-- these things were all just handed to him. Maeve had to work so hard for everything all of the time.
It makes him happy that she can have calmer moments now. Especially ones shared with him. "And later, I have it on pretty good authority that you'll have several orgasms in a tent. That should be fun."
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She had brought a book. For a few minutes, she had considered bringing two, then thought Steve might take that as an insult. She wouldn't mean it that way, she just really loves reading. That she's here at all indicates how much she likes Steve, too. Maybe even loves him.
That's a terrifying thought, though, and one she's trying not to explore.
"Orgasms are very relaxing," she agrees, then tilts her head against her chair, looking over at him, wearing a teasingly innocent expression. "Were you expecting some, too?"
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He smirks at her, biting his lip as he looks her over with a bit of heat in his gaze, and then turns his attention back to the task at hand. The hot dogs seem cooked enough, so he leans over to grab the bag of buns and draws his stick in closer, closing a bun around the hot dog to pull it free. It rests on his knees as he grabs another bun to do the same to Maeve’s, handing it over to her.
“I thought our phallic dinner might get you in the mood,” he teases, laughing happily as he unearths a bottle of mustard. “Is it working? Are the wieners getting to you?”
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