don't call me 'baby'
PART 7 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, SMUT (18+), angst, phone sex, daddy kink, ddlg dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, webcam sex, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, age gap, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 6.5k
A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?
PART 7 | is it cool that I said all that?
Soon enough, June gave way to July, the mid-summer heat setting in across the city like a fog. The city became busier, too, thanks to the peak tourism season and school being closed for the summer. For once, you barely noticed - you didn’t have to worry about the influx of customers, the more crowded buses and metro cars with packed, sweaty bodies that you had come to dread. Now, you were happy to shell out the money for a taxi, or to call Steve’s car service, even when he wasn’t with you. You had felt strange about it at first, but he insisted upon it. And, of course, you had started spending most nights with Steve - still getting picked up from your apartment, going out to fancy dinners and bars, and then going home with him. You had started spending the night more often, too.
On mornings that Steve had work, he’d leave quietly, rarely even causing you to stir. He’d usually send a text, or on occasion leaving a note; something along the lines of stay as long as you’d like, I’ll see you soon. On occasion, he’d stay at your place, too. You were embarrassed by your tiny, cluttered apartment, thinking of his pristine penthouse. But, he never said anything. Sometimes, you’d find yourself stumbling up the stairs and into your bed, challenging yourselves to be quiet with the knowledge of Robin asleep on the other side of the wall.
It was a nice routine - in the time you had been living in Rome, you had been spending most of your summers working as many hours as possible to save for the upcoming semester of university, spreading your money as thinly as possible during the school year when you had to inevitably cut back on hours. But now, it was different - you were letting yourself actually enjoy the city. You would take yourself out for breakfast, sipping coffee leisurely in a cafe while the city woke up. You would go for walks, stopping in shops along the way. Normally, you’d take one look at the prices of anything and walk out empty-handed. But now, you decided to treat yourself. If you saw something you liked - clothes, books, trinkets, jewelry, fresh food from the market - you let yourself buy it, not feeling guilt anymore when you brandished Steve’s credit card. Even in casual clothes, you found yourself dressing nicer in your daily life, the way you had always wanted, but just couldn’t afford to. You treated yourself to the hair salon, manicure appointments, and even splurged on the extra spa options every now and then. It was all new, still.
“You going somewhere?” Robin had asked one morning over her cereal, eyeing you as you were pouring yourself coffee, already fully dressed for the day.
“Just the market - do you need anything?”
“Uh, no. It’s just - you look nice. That’s all,” she remarked, smiling a bit.
“Oh - uh, thanks.”
You had started to notice it, too - your face had grown a little fuller, your skin brighter, the dark circles under your eyes a thing of the past. At one point, when you walked past a mirror, you stopped in your tracks - you were glowing. You never knew what people had meant when they said that, before - but now you understood.
Then, of course, there was Steve. You were seeing him even more frequently, five or six nights a week. Sometimes, he’d even meet you for lunch, on the rare occasion that he actually took his lunch break. It was over one of these lunch dates that he broke the news - you were sitting at a cafe close to the city center, only a few blocks from his office. You sipped your coffee, eyeing the menu as he cleared his throat.
“So, um - I have to go away this week. Business trip,” he said.
You looked up at him, a wave of disappointment washing over you. You tried to shake it - it was stupid, why did it matter? You just did your best to keep your face neutral.
“Oh, really?” you asked.
He nodded, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair.
“I only found out this morning - Barcelona, just for a bit. Five days, I think. Six, if you include travel, I guess.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together.
“Yeah, I mean - do what you’ve got to do. At least it’s not too far, right?”
“Not at all - five, six hour flight, I think.”
“Well - that should be fun. I went to Barcelona over winter break with some friends my second year - I mean, we stayed in a hostel and basically just fucked around in the city, but it was nice.”
Steve chuckled, picking up his coffee cup.
“Yeah, well, I’ll probably spend most of it holed up in a conference room or hotel. Besides, I don’t speak a lick of Spanish.”
You shrugged. “To be fair, you barely speak Italian and have been living here for, what, six months?”
“Yeah, okay, fair enough,” Steve said, holding his hands up in surrender as he rolled his eyes. “To be fair, a lot of people speak English. Still, pretty sad to live in Italy for the better part of the year and not know any of the language, right?”
He was smiling, shaking his head incredulously, but avoiding your gaze. It probably meant nothing, just him making a joke, but you couldn’t help but read a bit into it. There was something in his tone, something wistful, a bit self-deprecating.
“I could teach you,” you said softly.
“Yeah?” he asks, looking up at you.
“I mean, I don’t think you’d be fluent, I’m not a teacher or anything, but… some words, phrases, basics, things like that. If you want.”
He smiled, a bit more softly this time.
“Yeah - that’d be nice.”
You both just stared at each other, exchanging smiles, the moment lingering. It was interrupted when your waitress returned, asking for your order. You glanced over at Steve.
“Okay - I guess the lesson one will be ordering in a restaurant, yeah?”
******
You stayed over at Steve’s the night before he left. Despite doing his best to move quietly around the room, you found yourself waking up to the sound of him zipping his suitcase, his silhouette barely visible in the dim, early-morning light.
“Mm,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes.
He froze, turning to you.
“Hey,” he whispered, “Sorry, baby - go back to sleep.”
“Are y’leaving?” you asked groggily.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “I’m afraid I have to. But, I’ll be back on Saturday, yeah?”
“Hm, yeah,” you said, turning over under the sheets. You let your breathing slow, shutting your eyes as you heard Steve move about the room, grabbing some last-minute things. He whispered your name through the darkness, so softly that even awake, you barely heard it. But, sleep was pulling you back into its clutches, and you didn’t say anything, too disoriented to reply. In hindsight, he probably thought that you had fallen completely back to sleep. You heard him take a few steps until he was right next to you, crouching down to your level. He reached out slowly, placing his hand on the side of your head, gently rubbing his thumb along your temple.
“You know - I’m really gonna miss you,” he whispered. “I know I probably shouldn’t, but -��
He stopped, taking a deep breath. Then, you felt the warmth of his lips pressing to your temple, then he pulled away, footsteps carrying him towards the doorway.
“Did you say something?” you grumbled into the pillow.
His footsteps stopped. Then, from the doorway, you heard, “Oh, uh, no - just, go to sleep. You can let yourself out - I’ll see you Saturday.”
Then he was gone.
*****
You went almost 12 hours before you texted Steve. You weren’t entirely sure what the protocol with this was - should you reach out to him? Should you ask how his flight was, or how things were going? It felt strange, though, doing something a girlfriend would do. But, it felt just as strange to not talk to him.
You stared at your phone for a few moments, tapping your fingers nervously on the kitchen table. You stared at your text conversation, typing and erasing a few times. This was stupid - you should be able to just text him -
hey
It sent before you could think about it anymore. You groaned, letting your head fall forward on the table.
“What did you do now?” Robin’s voice asked from the kitchen doorway.
“Why do you assume I did something?”
“Well, did you?”
You rolled your head to the side to look up at her, sighing.
“I’m the lamest mistress in the world.”
Robin visibly gagged.
“Okay, first of all - never say ‘mistress’ again. Also, that’s not technically what you are -”
“Robs, I love you, but I don’t need -”
“What’s going on?” she asked, more sincere now. She slid into the chair across from you, the old rickety wood creaking under her.
You just flashed your phone at her, defeated. She studied it for a moment before leaning back in her chair, arms crossed.
“Yep. You’re lame.”
You groaned again, slamming your forehead on the table again.
“What do I do?”
“Well, why the fuck are you texting him, anyways?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just - isn’t he away? For like, a week?”
You straightened up, furrowing your brow.
“Well, yeah.”
“So - why are you texting him? Like, are you trying to sext him or something?”
“What? God, no -”
“Then - huh?”
The look on Robin’s face said it all - somehow, not sexting him was infinitely weirder. Before either of you could say anything, your phone sounds off with a ding.
Steve: Hi!
You stared down at it, realizing one thing - somehow, Steve was infinitely lamer than you’d ever be. As you continued to stare at his message, plotting how to even reply, you were pulled out by Robin saying your name. You glanced up at her - had she said something?
“Hm?”
“I asked why’re you smiling? Is it him?”
You hadn’t even realized you were smiling. Suddenly feeling like a silly schoolgirl, you shook your head.
“Uh, no -”
Robin rolled her eyes.
“Oh god.”
*******
For that entire first day, you found yourself constantly texting Steve. Before, it had just been making plans, occasionally saying goodnight, letting him know you got home safe. But this was… different.
how was your flight?
It was okay, no complaints. Just tired. Did you get home okay?
yep thanks for letting me stay over
Never a problem - sorry I woke you up this morning.
…
…
…
oh you didn’t
at least, i don’t remember that
A lie.
Oh, good.
It was easy, after that. He sent you pictures of the city as he drove through, as well as his hotel room.
ooooh, fancy
It should be, considering I’ll be spending most of my time here.
you’re not exploring the city at all? let yourself have some fun, old man
Ha. Wish I could - I’ll be at a conference or in meetings most of the week. Maybe we’ll go out for some corporate dinners, though.
sorry, i was falling asleep just reading about it 😴
Oh, shut up.
you gonna make me?
He didn’t reply for a few minutes. You saw him start to type a few times, stop, and start again. Finally:
You’re going to pay for that later, you know.
i’m counting on it 😉
You didn’t hear much from Steve after that - it was silly to think you should, considering he had work to do. You went about the rest of your day pushing him from your mind - heading down to the market, cooking dinner for yourself and Robin, ending the night watching a terrible horror movie that you laughed your way through. It was pretty late, after you had been lying in your bed scrolling on your phone mindlessly for a while, that you heard from Steve again. But, he didn’t text - he was calling you.
The moment his name popped up on the screen, you sat up a bit straighter, letting your finger hover over the accept button. You weren’t sure why it was such a big deal that he was calling you - but, when you pressed accept, you felt your stomach flip, your heart rate speeding up a bit as you pressed the phone to your ear.
After a deep breath, you managed, “Hello?”
“Hey there,” Steve’s voice replied. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“Oh, no,” you assured him, shifting to fully sit up. “I was awake.”
“Okay, good - I wasn’t sure, I know it’s late.”
You pulled your phone away for a second to glance at the screen - 11:47pm.
“Yeah, I guess,” you said.
“What are you doing?” he asked, something rustling on the other end.
“Just - well, nothing, really. I was just in bed, scrolling on my phone, normal stuff.”
“Normal stuff?”
“Yeah - you know, the rest of us are on social media, letting our brains turn to mush. It’s fun, you should try it,” you said sarcastically.
That earned a chuckle from him on the other end.
“Sounds great, but I’ll probably pass.”
“What’s your phone for, then?”
“Work. And contacting people, like you. Well, not like you, but - you know what I mean. Maybe taking a picture every now and then. What else would I need it for?”
You rolled your eyes. “What are you, 80?”
“Honestly? Feels like it sometimes.”
You laughed, settling further into your pillows.
“So, how’s Barcelona?”
He sighed. “Fine. I mean, I landed, checked into my hotel, and went straight to the conference. It’s the same shit as always - presentations, schmoozing people from other companies, meeting with industry big-wigs. But, at least there was a cocktail hour at the end.”
“Wait, are you drunk-calling me?”
“What? No! I only had a couple. It’s not - it doesn’t matter.”
You rolled your eyes. You could picture him, flustered and slightly indignant at the mere accusation.
“So, where are you now?” you asked.
“Back at my hotel. I - I just wanted to talk to you. Is that okay?”
“Of course it’s okay - It’s nice, actually.”
A moment of silence hung between you, and you immediately kicked yourself for even saying it.
“I’m sorry, that was - I just meant that it’s - well, you’re -”
“What’re you wearing?” he asked, the words tumbling out. You paused, your ramblings dying on your tongue.
“Huh?”
“I - I asked, what are you wearing?”
You looked down, brow furrowed. “Uh, like, an old college t-shirt, some shorts, just what I usually - wait, oh my god… are you trying to, like, have phone sex right now?”
“Well - it’s not - yes. Yes, I am. That’s how it’s supposed to start, right?”
You giggled, falling back on your bed. You probably shouldn’t be laughing, but you couldn’t help it - somehow, Steve was both the most suave and awkward person you’ve ever met, often at the same time.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, voice tinged with worry.
“It’s just - you’ve never done this before?”
“Is it that obvious?” he asked sheepishly.
“Well, yeah, kinda. But, don’t worry about it, you’re doing great.”
“Do you want me to stop? We don’t have to, I just thought you wanted -”
“No! I mean, when you said you’re going to pay for that later, I thought you meant when you got home. But… if you’re offering -”
A pause. Then, “Yes,” he whispered. “I’m offering.”
You laid back a bit more, biting your lip.
“Well, let me get a bit more comfortable, Harrington.”
You reached down to the hem of your t-shirt, lifting it over your head with ease. Bare-chested, you hissed as the cool air hit your breasts, making yourself comfortable on your back again. Placing the phone on the pillow next to you, you put Steve on speaker.
“What did you just do?” Steve asked on the other end.
“Just took my shirt off, hope you don’t mind.”
You heard his breath hitch. “What kind of bra do you have on?” he asked quietly.
“Wasn’t wearing one,” you replied.
“Fuck.”
“Mm,” you said, taking one of your breasts in your hand. You began massaging it, rolling your nipple between your fingers until it hardened, before moving to the next one.
“They feel so nice in my hand,” you said breathily. “So soft, god, but not as nice as when you do it?”
“Yeah?” Steve asked, voice hoarse. “God, I miss your tits.”
“Mm,” you said, leaning into your own touch. “And they miss you. They miss your mouth on them, you know that? Now I’ve just got them all to myself -”
“Jesus Christ,” Steve murmured.
You let your hand snake down, toying with the hem of your shorts. Then, slowly, you slide them off, shimmying them down your legs and kicking them off.
“Sorry, my shorts were in the way - had to take them off,” you confessed.
“Yeah? You still got anything on, baby?”
“Just my panties - but, god, they’re soaked,” you said, fingers ghosting over the lacy fabric.
“Yeah, I bet,” Steve said, voice a bit rougher. “My voice gets you off that much, huh?”
“Mmm hm,” you said dreamily. “But, there’s a problem.”
“And what’s that?”
“If I had to guess… you’ve still got all your clothes on, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Well, I’m not touching myself until your cock is out.”
And with that, you heard rustling on the other end of the phone, and the distinct sound of a belt hitting the floor, followed by fabric. God, he wasn’t even dressed for bed, yet.
“There you go,” you whispered. “That’s more like it. Are you hard yet?”
“Yes, Jesus, I’ve been half-hard ever since you picked up the phone.”
“Good,” you said.
“But - I’m not doing another thing until you start touchin’ yourself,�� he said firmly. “Can you do that for me?”
“Anything you want, daddy.”
You heard him groan, and you smirked to yourself. You let your hand wander over your clothed cunt, finally allowing your fingers to slip under the waistband. You ran your fingers up and down your slit, soaking them in the wetness there. When you finally came in contact with your clit, you gasped.
“What are you doing?” Steve asked, voice gruff.
“I’m so wet,” you breathed. “My fingers are coated - I - I’m rubbing my clit. Nice and slow.”
“Good girl,” Steve whispered. “Does it feel good?”
“So good,” you admitted.
“Does it feel as good as when I do it?”
“No,” you said. “But still - god, it feels so nice.”
“Do you touch yourself a lot?” he asked. “When I’m not around? Tell me the truth, baby.”
“Yes,” you breathed. “I do.”
“Do you think of me?”
“Mm hm, I think about you when I make myself cum, all alone.”
He sighed on the other end. “Yeah, I bet you do. Because you’re fuckin’ mine.”
“I’m yours,” you echoed, picking up speed on your clit. You gasped.
“Do you ever use toys to get yourself off?” he asked.
“I - ah! Fuck - yeah, I do. I have a - shit - a vibrator.”
A pause on the other end. Then, “Take it out, baby. I want you to use it.”
Even though you knew he couldn’t see you, you nodded, reaching towards your nightstand and shuffling through the drawer until you found it, a little purple thing that had been getting less use lately than usual.
“I have it,” you said, settling back down. “But… I’ll only start using it if you start touching yourself, now.”
He groaned. “Fine, I will.”
You heard him hiss, then his breathing start to quicken.
“I’m stroking my cock, baby - god, I’m so fuckin’ hard right now - just thinking about your pretty pussy, how good it feels around me.”
You sighed, turning on the vibrator in response. Upon hearing the sound, Steve groaned. You pressed it to your clit, crying out the moment it made contact. Your back arched, your hips bucking into it.
“Oh, god - this feels so good,” you said.
“Are you using it?”
“Yeah, right on my clit - it’s so good, it’s too much -”
“Yes, play with that pussy, baby,” he said, voice strained. “I want you to fuck yourself on your fingers, can you do that for me?”
“‘Course I can,” you whispered. “After your cock, I can fit anything inside me.”
He let out a guttural groan. In response, you took your free hand that had returned to massaging your breasts and brought it downwards, coating it in your slick before letting a finger slip inside you. After a few moments, you added a second finger, stretching and pumping as you circled your clit with the vibe.
“Mm, that feels good. I miss having you inside me, though,” you confessed.
“Fuck - yeah? You do?”
“Mm. Nothing makes me feel as good as your cock, sir.”
“Damn right,” he said. “I’m just picturin’ you, all spread out, touching yourself - are you close?”
“Yes,” you admitted, hips bucking to your own touch. You added a third finger, curling them inside of yourself, finding that one spot that made you see stars.
“Are you close?” you asked.
“Yeah, fuck, I am - you should see this, sitting here, cock in my hand - wishing it was your pussy, or you mouth. It’s like your pussy was made for me, I wish I was buried inside you right now -”
You felt your abdomen tighten, your heart rate quickening. You moaned, fucking yourself on your fingers faster.
“Shit, Steve, I - I’m close, I’m gonna cum -”
“Cum, baby, please,” he begged. “And say my name when you do it - I wanna hear you -”
“Yes, daddy,” you sighed, “I’ll cum for you, I’ll scream your name as loud as you want -”
“Good girl,” he grunted, his breathing labored.
You pictured it, Steve jerking himself off to the sound of your voice, the very thought of you getting him off. You gasped and moaned as you touched yourself, your walls starting to clench around your fingers. You thought of Steve - his hands on you, his voice in your ears, his cock inside you, filling you to the brim. You could feel it, your soft walls wrapped around him, him pounding into you, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as you both came -
Before you knew it, you were coming, your peak hitting you suddenly. You screamed, head thrown back as your cunt squeezed and pulsed around your fingers.
“Steve! Fuck, oh my god, I’m cumming -”
“Shit - me too, princess. Oh -” he growled your name as he came and you convulsed and moaned as you thought about it, him spilling into his hand, your name on his lips.
You rode out your orgasm, brow sweating and breathing heavy as you came down from your high. You dropped the vibrator, the stimulation becoming too much. You just heard Steve’s labored breathing on the other end of the phone, both of you needing a moment to gather yourself. Eventually, you withdrew your fingers from yourself, grimacing. Your hand was soaked, coated in the evidence of your orgasm.
“Christ,” Steve breathed after a while, finally breaking the silence. “Baby, that was so fucking hot.”
“Yeah?” you asked. “What would you rate it?”
“Five out of five stars,” he joked. “Definitely would do it again.”
You laughed, slapping your palm to your forehead as you stared up at the ceiling. You had a stupid smile on your face, you could feel it. But, you didn’t really care - he wasn’t even here to see you.
“Same,” you said. “So, turns out you are good at phone sex.”
This earned a laugh from Steve on the other end, much to your satisfaction.
“Oh, yeah - but, I’m only going to get better with practice. Couldn’t hurt, right?”
You felt your face heat. You bit your lip, nodding.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Practice makes perfect.”
“Good,” he said. “Because whenever I'm away, I'm planning on doing this a lot."
That time, you let yourself giggle into the phone, practically giddy. And, you tried to ignore the small part of you, deep down, that ached.
******
The next day, you hardly heard from Steve, aside from the odd text exchange here and there. That was fine enough with you - Robin got it in her head to go out again, and you opted to go along. You finally met Vickie, who met you at the bar - she seemed lovely, and exactly Robin’s type. You had been spending so much time with Steve, that you had forgotten what it had felt like to be a normal 20-year-old. So, when you stumbled in the door at 3am and collapsed in your bed, you had hardly thought about Steve at all. That was, at least, until the following day. When you woke up, it was nearly noon, a headache already forming as you blinked groggily in the morning light. You reached for your phone, squinting as the newest message from Steve flashed across the screen:
Good morning :)
morning
After a few minutes, a response:
Did you just wake up?
yeah
Robin and I went out last night
i’m kinda hungover
Should you have told him that? Or, was he going to judge you, reprimand you, ask where you went? Then again, did he have any right to?
That sounds fun. Well, not the hangover, but going out. I hope you had a good time :)
Seemed legitimate enough - over text, you learned, Steve really only knows how to be genuine.
it was, i’m regretting it now tho
Well, take it easy. I’m heading out now, I’ll probably be busy most of the day.
What were you even supposed to say to that? Have fun? Of course he wouldn’t, it was a 12-hour workday. Did he even want you to say anything to that?
ok ☺️
It wasn’t until quite late that night that you heard from him again. You were getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth when his name popped up on your screen - but now, he was FaceTiming you. Part of you wondered if it was an accident, if he meant to just do a voice call instead, or perhaps not call you at all. Still, you quickly spit out your toothpaste and fumbled with the phone to answer. Steve’s face popped up, looking expectant. It had only been a few days since you actually saw him, and you felt your heart tighten anyway.
“Hey,” you said, trying to mask your surprise as you made your way back towards your bedroom. “What’s going on?”
Something faltered in his face, only for a split second - for all you knew, it was a connection glitch.
“Oh, nothing - sorry, should I not have called?”
“No! No, it’s fine, I just - didn’t take you for the FaceTiming type.”
“I’m thirty, not eighty.”
You rolled your eyes, plopping down onto your bed and settling until you were sitting up cross-legged.
“Allegedly, you old man. How was your day?”
He sighed deeply, in a way that you almost wished you hadn’t asked.
“Fine, I guess. Long. We’re really close to closing a major deal, but… it’s just -” he sighed again, rubbing his hand across his face. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details. But it’s taking longer than expected, and we’re really hitting some roadblocks.”
“I’m sorry,” you replied, frowning a bit. He looked tired, and stressed. All you wanted was to reach through the screen and kiss it better.
“It’s alright, I’m not expecting you to say anything - I don’t even know why I’m even telling you, I just -”
“-wanted to vent,” you finished. “Yeah, I get it. You can talk about these things with me, you know.”
He smiled wearily. “Thank you. Really.”
A moment of silence passed, before he spoke again.
“So - was your day at least good?”
You shrugged. “Yeah, it was fine. Nothing too exciting. Just did a lot of cleaning around the apartment, to be honest. Cooked dinner, had a night in. You know, nothing crazy.”
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Oh, yeah - nothing hydration and Advil couldn’t fix. It wasn’t too bad.”
You squinted at the screen for a moment, and realized he was sitting at a desk.
“Are you - are you FaceTiming me from your laptop?”
“Uh, yeah - why?”
You just giggled. “Nothing, it’s just… of course you are.”
He rolled his eyes, visibly fighting a smile. “I was doing work, and… I don’t know. I guess I just really wanted to see your face.”
You felt something warm in your chest, spreading through you until your ears tingled and face heated. You did your best to ignore it, just smiling back at him.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” you admitted. You felt a yawn coming on, but did your best to stifle it. Still, Steve apparently noticed, as his face set into a frown.
“Are you tired? I can go, if you want.”
“No, it’s okay! Seriously. If I hang up, I’ll just be on my phone for the next two hours, anyways.”
“As long as you’re sure -”
“I am.”
He nodded. “Okay. And I didn’t - I don’t want you to think I called for the same reason I did the other night, by the way. At least, not if you don’t want that.”
You felt your face flush at the memory.
“Then, why did you call? Just to see me?”
“Well, yes. And… this is going to sound stupid.”
“Try me,” you whispered, settling further into bed by the minute.
“I just - I haven’t been sleeping that well, since I’ve been here. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just being in a hotel, but I usually get used to that after a night or so. But… maybe it’s just because I haven’t been sleeping alone much lately.”
Oh.
“Do you want me to stay on with you?” you asked softly.
He nodded, glancing down to avoid your gaze.
“Okay.”
So you did. You both just started talking, about your days, the book Steve was reading, the TV show you were binge-watching. What you did around the house that day, a quick tour of your (now cleaner) bedroom, which led to him asking about the photos pinned you your wall, and the tchotchkes on your bookshelf. You got the “grand” tour of his hotel room, which he evidently had been spending very little time in. Slowly, you began to carry more of the conversation, his responses coming slower, becoming shorter. You were both in your beds, lying sideways - he had set the computer on his lap, now barely visible through the dim light.
After who knows how long, you realized you had been talking and hardly heard a response from Steve. You paused, only hearing his slow, deep breathing. He was asleep, finally. Your initial response was relief - he needed to be up early, and if this is what it took for him to finally fall asleep, that was enough for you. But, another small part of you was indescribably sad. Sad for the man on the other end of the call, who was still a boy in so many ways, who couldn’t spend his nights alone, but probably often did…until recently.
“Goodnight, Steve,” you whispered. He, of course, didn’t hear. Maybe that was for the best.
When you hung up, it didn’t take you long to fall asleep. Your last thought before you drifted off was of Steve, and the way he had said I just really wanted to see your face.
*******
For the rest of Steve’s trip, you two fell into a routine - he’d call you late at night. You’d chat about your respective days, just catch up. Sometimes, he’d vent about his frustrations with work; other times, he’d just keep asking about you. It was the night before he came back that it came up.
“You’ll probably be relieved to come home tomorrow,” you said.
“Definitely,” he admitted. He was ready for bed, only wearing a white t-shirt from what you could see on-camera, back pressed against the headboard of his bed. He sighed, eyes fluttering shut. “I really need a break, even if it’s just for the weekend.”
“Yeah,” you said. “We don’t have to do something on Saturday, by the way. In case you’re tired from traveling.”
“No! I mean, I want to see you. My flight gets in around 9am, so maybe we can do dinner?”
“Yeah, sounds great,” you replied, fighting the encroaching excitement at the thought of being with him again. “Just let me know.”
Steve raised an eyebrow, after a moment. “Wait, it’s Friday night - why are you at home?”
There’s an unspoken question in there: you didn’t stay home just for me, right?
You shrugged. “Robin’s out with Vickie, and - I don’t know, I thought about going out, doing something, but I just didn’t really feel like it.”
“Oh, okay - just making sure. Because, you’re twenty - if you want to do something fun over the weekend, it’s okay -”
“Almost twenty-one,” you joked, not even thinking as you said it. He paused, eyebrows raised.
“Almost? Is your birthday soon?”
You looked up, shrugging. “Oh, yeah - it’s next week, on the 18th.”
“Do you have something planned for it?” he asked.
You shook your head. “No, not really. Maybe Robin and I will go out to dinner with some friends, or something. I don’t know, I’ve never been big on my birthday.”
He paused for a moment, and you were suddenly afraid that he’d ask why. But, he didn’t. Instead, he just said, “Well, your 21st birthday is kind of a big deal.”
“I mean, in the States, yes. But, I can already go out to a bar here, so the novelty’s kind of worn off. Just means I’m another year older, really.”
“But, still… it’s worth celebrating, right?”
You shrugged, maintaining an air of nonchalance.
“Sure, I guess.”
It went silent for a moment, Steve evidently starting to open a new tab and start typing on his computer.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Nothing, just… thinking.”
You just shrugged, choosing to not even worry about it. Knowing him, he was probably responding to work emails, despite it being nearly midnight.
“You don’t want to do too much of that, you know,” you said sarcastically.
Steve scoffed, tearing his eyes from the screen back to you.
“You know, I’ve been keeping a list of all these clever quips you’ve been throwing my way,” he said.
“Oh yeah? What are you going to do with that?”
He smiled then, a mischievous glint in his eye.
“Make sure I find ways to shut you up, once I get back.”
You nearly choked on nothing, ears roaring as the blood rushed to your head. Steve must’ve noticed how caught off-guard you were, the way your mouth hung open, eyes wide. He smirked, clearly self-satisfied. That alone helped you regain your footing. In a measured voice, you replied:
“I hope that’s a promise, sir.”
His eyes darkened a bit, and he smiled.
“Take your clothes off. Right now.”
Who were you to say no to that?
******
When you woke up the next morning, strangely, there wasn’t a text from Steve. You frowned at your phone, blinking groggily. It was Saturday, and nearly noon - after spreading yourself on camera for Steve, both of you coming together with each other’s names on your lips, you had fallen into a deep, blissful sleep. Despite your lie-in, Steve should’ve touched down back in Rome by now. You had figured, at the very least, that he would’ve sent you a text with instructions for tonight.
You groaned, pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes, before slowly rolling out of bed. As you padded down the hallway, you heard movement in the kitchen. Robin must’ve already been awake. You prayed that she had already made coffee - if she hadn’t eaten yet, maybe you two would order something, or go out.
“Hey, Robs?” you called, stifling a yawn. “Is there coffee on? Because if not -”
You stopped in your tracks. Because, standing in your kitchen with Robin, was Steve. He was dressed casually, just in jeans and a black t-shirt, leaning against the counter with one hand shoved in his pocket, the other grasping a mug. He straightened up when he saw you, smiling.
“Oh - hey,” you said stiffly, trying to figure out if you were still dreaming or not.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Robin said brightly. She immediately handed you a mug of coffee, knowing you well enough that she didn’t even have to ask. You accepted it, eyes darting back and forth between her and Steve.
“I - what are you doing here?” you asked. Realizing you sounded accusatory, you added, “It’s just - I hadn’t heard anything, I didn’t realize you were coming over -”
“Oh, this is a surprise,” he assured, smiling. Even after a week of not seeing him in-person, you felt your heart quicken at the sight of him - how boyishly handsome he was, how he stared at you like you were the only thing in the room.
“A surprise?” you echoed.
“Yeah,” Robin added. “See, Steve asked if he could come over - wait, how did you even get my number?”
Steve shrugged. “I’ve got my ways, Buckley.”
Robin just rolled her eyes. “Well, anyway - Steve came over because, well, he wanted to talk about some stuff. Well, ask me about - why don’t you tell her?” she asked, redirecting her attention to Steve.
“Right, yeah, okay.”
He locked eyes with you, grinning. “Pack your bags, we’re leaving today, for a week.”
“Leaving? For where?”
“That’s a surprise,” he said. “But, we’re taking a trip, just you and me. And, I came over to run it by Robin, and to assure her that I’m not planning on murdering you. Which, by the way, I would’ve done by now if I wanted to.”
Robin shrugged, taking a sip from her mug.
“Can’t ever be too careful.”
You shook your head.
“I - so, what’s going on? Why is this a surprise? And, don’t you have work?”
“I took the week off,” he assured. “In my seven years in this company, I’ve never taken a vacation. Not a personal day, anything. I’ve accrued a lot, and this is a pretty damn good reason to use it.”
You cocked an eyebrow, confused.
“What is?”
Steve’s eyes flitted up and down your form once, before settling his gaze back on yours, smiling warmly. You were still in your pajamas, and probably should’ve been embarrassed. But, with the way he was looking at you, you found it hard to be.
“This vacation, it’s my gift to you,” he said. “Happy birthday.”
*******
author's note: thanks for your patience, everyone. The next last few chapters are going to be longer, and have a lot more "plot" (aka fluff and angst). I also can't keep a taglist for this fic anymore - it's too long, which is a nice problem to have, but still a problem! To make sure you never miss an installment, make sure to turn on post notifications for the blog. Also keep an eye out for my new Steve series, coming soon. As always, thank you to Em - she knows why :)
KO-FI ♡
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