Play Date
Guilty Heart
Rory hadn't realised how much she'd really missed hanging out with Nancy and Barb, even if Barbara was on the other end of the phone, all bunged up and sniffly from her early winter cold. The brunette and the blonde huddled close on the Wheeler girl's bed, ensuring that they could both hear the redhead through the phone. They giggled like they hadn't in years. Though her father always shunned neighbourhood gossip, he'd never know about the things that the three girls found themselves whispering about. Their divine feminine nature, the simple act of sisterhood, completely disobeyed Aurora's father. He doesn't have to know, was always Nancy's excuse, and that was compelling enough for Rory.
Muffled shouts and excited screams came from the four middle schoolers down in the basement of the Wheeler house. Aurora's cousin had met her at the door when she skipped happily into the residence, instantly offering her a slice of the pepperoni pizza that they had just spent half of their pocket money on. Sheer love and joy had her stealing his little cap and pressing a thousand kisses into his unruly hairline. Of course, he had tried to shove her off, embarrassed by the thought of being caught by one or more of his friends. Sweet Dustin still mumbled a begrudged 'love you' before he slipped down the wooden stairs.
Nancy was in her pyjamas, much different to Aurora's slightly dressed up sundress and white leg warmers. When the blonde had first come in, she questioned the outfit, only to find out soon after that it was all for a certain chestnut haired boy.
"He's picking you up here?" Nancy giggled before dramatically throwing her hand over her forehead, acting like a maiden from one of the kids' D&D games. "Oh, Mister Harrington pulling up outside the Wheeler residence! Surely, the people will talk." The two laughed as they flopped down onto her bed, posters of pop stars and actors staring them down in their heightened state. "I cant believe how serious you guys are getting."
With rosy cheeks aurora agrees.
"Don't you think it's all a bit quick?" Came the snuffly, static voice of Barb. Aurora sat up, turning onto her stomach to face the phone that sat upon Nancy's pale bedsheets. "I mean... you've never had a boy over before, Rory. You really think your dad won't mind?"
"I think it's cute!" Nancy intervenes, "all secret and stuff. C'mon Barb, you're telling me that if some handsome, popular boy wanted to climb in through your window one night, you wouldn't go along with it?"
"Not unless he was Tom Cruise."
"Square." Nancy sing-songs the insult, though it all remains friendly. Aurora giggles shortly as Barb chortles through the phone.
"Fine, but don't come running to me when it all comes crashing down."
And just like that, the mood dampens once more. Silence settles between them, a guilty look on Nancy's face at Barb's harsh words. Aurora turns them over in her head, anxiously picking at her fingernails, despite the fact that they were freshly painted a bubblegum pink by the Wheeler girl.
When she finally speaks again, it's low, so low that the sounds of the Bee Gees vinyl almost overpowers her. "I really don't think that he's trying to hurt me, guys." Chocolate eyes are sincere and glassy, adding to the emotion of her words. "We're going at my pace, I promise. W-we've only kissed a little, and I only sat on his lap." Not strictly true, but not every single detail had to be shared between the three. "He's sweet, makes me smile. I've never felt like this before, ever."
A small sigh is audible through the receiver. Aurora had always known that Barb would be the hardest to convince — she'd been wary of Steve since the moment he asked the small girl out to the local diner. Aurora thought that it was understandable, to be protective, all the girls were protective over one another. But, Steve was right, Barb couldn't dictate everything that she did.
"I just want you to be careful." Barb sniffled, "I don't want to lose you, Rory. You too, Nance, if you ever admit how you feel about Jonathan Byers." The brunette rolled her eyes. "Steve Harrington is on a completely different level to us, and once you two really go public, you're going to be so popular that it's insane."
"That's not true—"
"oh, it so is!" Nancy squealed, jabbing her finger at Aurora's uncovered thigh. Her face is contorted by a massive smile, much more optimistic about the situation than Barb. "Queen Aurora, doesn't that have a ring to it?!"
"No!" The small girl replied with a giggle, lightly shoving Nancy's painted fingernails away. "Never going to happen." Her words are broken up with laughs, mixing in with the dramatic shouts of the middle schooler's down below. Three girls laugh together at the absurdity of the situation. Seriously, one of them with one of the most popular boys in school? At one point, it would've been completely unimaginable, but now, they weren't sure. Not when Nancy Wheeler could see the shine in Aurora's eyes, something she lost with the death of her mother. When only years ago, she spent night crying into their shoulders as her father turned to religion for relief.
"I'm serious, you should take all the new opportunities that you get. Don't leave us behind, of course, but it's good that things are changing. Things around here get a little boring, don't you think?"
Aurora's chest warms at her best friend's sweet sentiment. Her eyes water a little as she fights getting too emotional. "I'd never leave you girls behind. You're like the sisters i never had." Her ring adorned hand reaches for Nancy, and she can't help but notice the difference in their hands. The metal against her finger suddenly felt so restrictive, a set of rules that the other girls never had to fret about. Aurora tries to ignore it, tries to ignore the way that her throat burns. "S-Steve did say that I should try out cheerleading." Nancy's eyes widen. "That could be fun, right?"
"Hmmm." Barb hummed nasally through the phone.
Nancy faltered for a moment, breath escaping her open lips, "well—"
"Hey, guys! Do either of you want the last piece? It's pepperoni!" Two heads whipped to the now open doorway, two pairs of chocolate eyes landing on the bright smiling sunshine that was Aurora's little cousin. His sweet nature shone into the dim light of Nancy's candle lit room. The Wheeler girl did not reply, instead choosing to raise her eyebrow at the young boy.
"You're leaving already?" Aurora murmured, turning towards the window of the brunette's room. Pitch black outside, much later than she thought it was. "What time is it?" She stood quickly, searching for her Mary Jane shoes alongside the boxes underneath Nancy's bed.
"Quarter after eight." Said the curly haired boy, brows pulled together at the look of surprise on his cousin's face. "So no pizza?"
Aurora huffed a small laugh, "no, thank you. I'll meet you outside."
With a curt nod, the middle schooler was already on his way down the stairs. Back in the room, Nancy was watching with a very bemused expression as the blonde checked her appearance in the mirror, straightening out her little yellow dress. When she turned around, caught in the act, her cheeks were illuminated a bright red.
"You look great. Stop fussing." She even reaches out, pushing a blonde strand behind her best friend's ear. And then she announces to the phone, "Barb, Rory's leaving."
A monotone, "have fun." Is Barb's reply.
"I love you both." The blonde grinned, briefly hugging Nancy before fleeting out of the room, running down the stairs and towards the front door with a polite "thank you for having me, Mrs Wheeler! Have a great night!"
She skidded to a stop after almost toppling over the little form of Will Byers, a small frown against his lips. The boys often got like this if they often lost a D&D game, a little grumpy and sluggish. They each began to mount their bikes, Aurora skirting between them.
"Aren't you getting on?" Asked Dustin, motioning to the back of his bike. Numerous times the girl had braced her hands on his little shoulders and let the wind blow through her hair as he peddled them home. But not tonight, not when Steve's car was parked a few meters away, blaring the upbeat tunes of Bowie.
The blonde shook her head, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the BMW. "I have a lift." Even though she could see Steve peering out of the driver's side window, awaiting her arrival, she didn't hesitate to make him wait a moment longer as she leaned down slightly, pushing a kiss into the forehead of her cousin first, and then onto Lucas', and Will's, and finally Mikes, who put up the most protest. She bid them all goodbye, grinning at the sight of most of them wiping the kisses off with the backs of their hands. "Be safe!" She called while jogging up to the car, dimples evident through her huge smile.
Lucas squints. "Isn't that that douchebag Steve Harrington?"
"Hi!" She beams as she slides in the passenger side, shutting the door with a thump. Steve looks immaculate, clad in a burgundy shirt and his denim jacket. The night air sits cool against Aurora's legs, and she slides across the bench seat instantly. And, without allowing him time to reply to her greeting, she pushes her lips right against his.
Three boys peddle off into the night, gagging at the sight in the car in front of them, their noise overpowered by Steve's stereo.
The chestnut haired boy hums happily and surprisedly, hands rising to sit either side of her warm cheeks. He holds her gently, thumbs swiping over her enflamed skin. She breathes into him, his soul lightening with all things sweet, innocent, saccharine. Their kiss slowly fizzles out into smaller, more frequent ones, until its just Steve smiling and the small girl pressing kisses against him. Finally, she lets up.
"You seem happy." He laughs, letting go of her cheeks and reaching over to the seatbelt on her side, slinging it over her little yellow dress and clicking it into place.
Ever so brightly and giddy, the blonde relies. "I'm always happy to see you."
"Oh yeah?" The car roars to life as Steve shifts into first gear, setting them into motion in the same direction which the three boys had just taken. "Well, you're gonna be even happier when you find out that Carol spoke to Heather," Steve talks, occasionally shining his gaze from the road to the little girl besides him. "You know heather, right? She's cheer captain? Anyway, she said that the girls were more than happy to give you a tryout, tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" She gaped.
"Yeah, games start next week, now it's November. Now, I don't wanna sound too cocky, but I think you've got this shit on lock, babe. They have a spot left, so your chances are definitely higher -- hey, you okay?" In between his ramble he watched as she gazed out the window, brows pinched together. Honey eyes follow two cycling figures as they separate, one calling out to the other about some X-Men comic book.
"I hate how he has to cycle all the way home through Mirkwood alone."
"What? Who are you talking about? What the hell is Mirkwood?"
"Nevermind." She mumbles as Steve takes a right, and Will Byers disappears out of sight. Just in that moment, streetlights above begin to flicker. The two within the car peer out bewilderedly, their faces illuminated by the bright flashes of light.
"What the hell..?" The Hair slams his hand agains the side of his steering wheel. The street lights have gone out, and so have his headlights. Aurora's heart thumps a little faster, the unknown crawling into her brain and plaguing it with settled fear. The music cuts out, as though all electricity is depleted for a minute. Something in her chest burns. Steve huffs, hitting at the console in the middle of the car. His hair moves with the force of the hit, and the sounds of Bowie filter through the air once more. In fact, all light returns too. The headlights, the streetlights, the porch lights. Anxiety swirls in Aurora's stomach as Steve murmurs to himself. "Piece of junk. You car ever do shit like that?"
"I don't have a car."
"You don't have a car?" He speaks as though the ides is completely unheard of, as though everyone should have access to a polished BMW with Daddy's money.
"No." She shakes her head as they pass Dustin's house, his bike brown messily on the lawn. They's have to find their parking spot somewhere near here, far away enough that Aurora's father wouldn't see. "I never learned how to drive. Daddy doesn't think I'm ready yet."
Steve pulls over on the side of the road, pulling up his hand break. "Huh." It's all he says on the matter, brows falling from their raised position. "So, how do I get into your room?"
Curdling in her stomach, all anxiety and voices in her mind were telling her hat a bad idea this was, how easily they could get caught. Pensively, the small girl thought for a moment, before speaking with a sigh. "You'll have to go round the back. I'll walk in through the front, go up to my room and turn on the light. My room's pretty pink, so it'd be hard to mistake it for my parents'." She cleared her throat suddenly, refusing to meet Steve's eyes. "My Daddy's." Anxiously she wrings her hands together, sat atop her chilly thighs, brushing against the cotton of her dress. "I think the trelace and the tree should hold you." Finally, she looks up at him earnestly. His heart thumps against his chest. "You have to be really quiet, Steve. If Daddy suspects anything goin' on he won't hesitate to come in."
"Yeah," He's compelled by her seriousness, "I'll be silent, I promise. I'd never get you in trouble." Another lie, but at that moment in time, Steve Harrington wasn't a fortune teller. And like a moth to a flame, she follows him undoubtedly.
She's a nervous mess as she walks through the front door, locking it behind her with a breath caught in her throat. Aurora's last glance at Steve had been when he jumped over her back gate, admittedly witch much more ease than she had expected. Quietly, hoping that her father is fast asleep in his arm chair after nursing a large whiskey, she kicks off her little shoes and places them neatly in line with her father's work oxfords.
"Aurora?"
Be still her beating heart.
"Y-Yes, daddy?" The blonde gulps, squeezing her dark eyes shut before straightening herself out and walking towards the living room. Small hands fist at the hem of her dress, bottom lip pulled in between pearly whites. Ivory bones feel cold, despite the roaring fireplace that sits in front of her father's recliner chair. As predicted, a half-empty tumbler sits on the little side table between the two armchairs. Every time Aurora looks on at the pink fabric, her mother's chair, her heart burns. It's still wrinkled from where she used to sit, working on her sewing or reading a book. Still smells of her Chanel perfume. Like her ghost still lingers there.
Her father looks like a ghost as he peers up at his daughter, dark brown eyes sunken in and adorned by new wrinkles, as though the lines appear daily. He's pale, so much paler than he ever was before. It's like he's a reflection of the man he once was, a man who smiled, a man who laughed, not the man obsessed with the idea of heaven, and intent on doing every deed possible to get himself and Aurora there, where he was persistent that her mother was awaiting them.
"You look sweet." He drunkenly murmurs, the crackly sound of the news on the TV in front lot them almost overpowering him. "Just like your mother at your age. Yellow was her favourite colour, you know."
"I remember." The blonde shuffles nervously, head heavy with images of Steve stood awaiting for her light to turn on, hands on his hips. She shivers at the thought.
"Was there any boys at the Wheeler's tonight? I can't imagine why you'd get so dressed up to go and study."
Her blood turns ice cold.
"No boys, only Dustin, Lucas and Will. Same as always, Daddy." She gulps when he nods slowly, as though it were impossible for her to give any other answer. "Dustin can testify, I promise." As much as a troublemaker the curly haired boy was, there was nothing that he loved quite as much as his full-time cousin and part-time babysitter. If she said there was no boys, more specifically no Steve Harrington parked outside, then he'd never seen another male in his life.
Henry Smith reaches out a hand, palm facing the ceiling. Shakily, Aurora pushed her hand onto his own, and the cold metal meets the surface of his alcohol heated skin. Henry sits for a minute, his glossed over eyes taking in every detail of the purity ring. He scans it as though a single scratch on the surface will reveal all. Aurora begs whatever God there is that he doesn't feel her guilty heart thumping.
He sighs contentedly, dropping her hand and looking back to the television. The blonde blinks harshly, stumbling slightly at the sudden movements. Her hand falls back to her sides, gripping harshly at the yellow fabric.
"The lord will be pleased with you, Aurora. Say your prayers and get yourself to sleep. I'm going up to bed soon, and I beg that you don't play your music to help you sleep tonight." They both knew that it was a lie, Henry would fall asleep right there, in the depths of his armchair. Alas, she nods, bidding him a goodnight and trying not to cry from relief. She fought the urge to run up the stairs. She beelines for her bedroom, flicking the light on the moment that she shuts the door. She very much does stick on her music quickly, the cassette player whirring to life with a click of a button, Toto's soothing tone filling the air.
Aurora shuffles over to the window within seconds, pulling up her blinds with a harsh tug. Relief fills her bones at the sight of Steve's agile figure, climbing up the years old tree next to the house He looks up at the commotion of her opening window, brown eyes alive and brilliant and worlds apart from the drunken man downstairs. His denim jacket brushes up against the tree as he reaches up and into the window, stumbling slightly, but not enough to have Henry think it was anything but Aurora readying herself for bed. Steve smiles boyishly, pressing a quick kiss onto the blonde's lips before turning and pulling the window shut. Hate radiated off of his body and she shivered.
Chocolate eyes scour the pretty pink bedroom. Naturally, his eyes cast over to her double bed which was made to perfection. Not a crease in sight, perfect adorned with stuffed animals and pretty, frilly pillows. Her sheets matches the walls, a sweet baby pink that is very much in line with the blush of her cheeks. Steve does his best to ignore the few crosses upon the wall, including the one right above her metal bed frame. White wooden furniture matches the room, vanity adorned with candles and a handheld mirror. Picture frames sit upon the surface, mostly pictures of the blonde and her best friends, and one or two of the Henderson boy. A floor length mirror, adorned with little polaroids to match the ones on her desk. Steve casts a glance over her closed closet doors, and then his eyes widen.
There, in the corner, by the window that he had just crawled into, sits a pile of canvases. Each one is splashed with vibrant colours of the day. Flowers, people, animals. All so surreal, so realistic, so lifelike. He can't believe that he's never asked her about her artwork before, considering how often she comes to him splattered in paint. And, God, if he would have known just how good she was. For a few moments he can't eve believe his eyes, lips parting in surprise.
"Baby..." He breathes. "Those are all yours?"
"Yes!" She radiates all things happiness when it comes to her artwork. While most people became bashful and shy about their work, it was the one thing that she could do that truly made her different. Nancy and Barb had enough brains for the three of them, but give them a paintbrush and they'd be in tears within the hour. It made Aurora immensely proud that she had inherited her mother's extraordinary talent. Ringed hands reach out for the canvases, showing Steve some of her very favourites. "This one is only a few weeks old. Most of them are schoolwork, some are just doodles."
He looks them all over with something extremely similar to pride rippling behind his irises. "These are amazing. Not doodles, Rory."
Rory bounces on her sock clad toes, "thank you! I thought that maybe one day we could sit down and paint together, you know, like a date." Even in her excitement and passion, she remains low and quiet, trying not to awaken her father.
It's incredible, the way that he's taking in every detail of her paintings. Never before would she have imagined that Steve Harrington would even be remotely interested in something as trivial as artwork. But the way he's staring, absorbing it all, it makes her heart beat ten times faster.
It's the passion in his eyes that burns into her soul soul when he looks away from the canvases and towards her. And then, his passion is suddenly expressed through heavy kisses and scooping her up by the waist. It's almost effortless, despite the little shake in his arms as he holds her up against him. One of his warm hands palms at her ass, groaning in reply to her little mewl.
Steve walks around her bedroom like he owns the place, like he's been there countless times before. He walks until his shins hit her sweet cotton sheets and he lowers her so gently, so soft and sweet that he almost doesn't recognise himself. It's not until he breaks away from her kiss, and peers down at her, at that familiar innocent, fucked-out and dazed look on her face that he does recognise himself.
He's King Steve, and girls would do anything to be with him.
A smirk grows against his lips as he leans down again, smothering her in his weight and warmth. Deft hands slip to her waist as his crotch begins to grind on her own. His warm lips slide against her supple sun kissed skin, playful kisses and nips peppering onto her cheek, down to her neck, and the little skin of her chest that her dress allows. Aurora's breathing is laboured and skittish, her own hands busying in his chestnut locks.
"Can I take this off, pretty girl?" He speaks into her cheek as he says it, bunching the fabric in his hand. She can't help but nod, what else could she possibly do?
Without thinking he reaches over the bed, turning her prized stuffed animal's eyes away, Reggie's spotted back now facing the pair. Her heart soars.
His grin is something that could never be replaced. Nothing could ever compare, and it was made all the more better by the ghost of his fingertips trailing up her sides. He's so sure of himself, the way that his lips begin to peck her neck as he lifts the sweet fabric. "You're so pretty." Steve murmurs, all sweet words that he's used on girls before, but this time feels different.
She whines wantonly at the words. Everything about Steve had her glowing from the inside.
Her skin feels as though Midas himself had touched it as he raises the fabric over her head. She's golden, and Steve thinks so too. He's mesmerised by her soft skin and the constellation of moles that litter her stomach and arms. Delightfully, he kisses them on his way back down to her panties, grinning at the sight of her sweet matching set, white cotton bra and panties.
"You're so fucking cute." He all but groans into her skin. "So innocent. My baby." His breath has her twitching and a knot twisting in the depths of her stomach.
"P-Please," She begs without knowing what for.
"you gonna let me take care of you, huh? I'll show you everything you've ever missed out on baby, just say yes." His words sound drunken as he kisses over the band of her underwear, atop the little pink bow in the middle. She feels overwhelmed, head spinning and eyes ready to cry. It's a sudden realisation; she's desperate for him. "Don't you want to be good for me, baby? Don't you wanna be my little girl?" He kisses down one of her thighs, tongue slipping out occasionally. "Let me do this, baby, and we can go further. I can teach you everything." Another hot kiss, this time, right on the crescent of her covered mound. "Anything you want, I'll give it to you."
"I-I just want you." She all but cries out.
Steve's smile spreads across his lips slowly, the cat that got the cream. Slowly, his finger dips into the soaked band of her underwear, and slips it down. "I'll make you mine." He murmurs, transfixed on the pool of wetness that is revealed to him. He pushes her panties off of her ankles, and slowly spreads her thighs, pushing them over his broad shoulders. "My fucking girl."
All previous notions of pleasure are thrown out of the window the moment that Steve Harrington begins to eat her out. It's drawn out, flushed with kisses and kitten licks before he drags his tongue upwards. Thick hands hook over her stomach, trying to keep her bucking hips down.
He groans against her sticky folds, "sweetest fuckin' pussy, princess. Cant believe you've been hiding her from me."
She only squeaks in reply, bringing a little hand up to cover the audible sound. She's still so loud, breathing heavy and whimpering lowly. Subconsciously, Steve looks over his shoulder towards the shut door. He takes very sudden notice in the fact that there's no lock whatsoever. And so, with the very intent of not being caught, he reaches over her now crinkled bedsheets, and grabs ahold of a random stuffed animal. It's small and yellow, and as he brings his arm back towards her face, he realises that it's a little chick.
"Open."
She obeys the command immediately, shivering and eyes glassy. His sweet girl, already so ruined. He pushes the stuffy's wing into her mouth, and Aurora instantaneously suckles upon the fabric.
"Good girl. Try and stay quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that for Stevie?"
He's never seen something so saccharine as her little nod.
She's high off him. The way that he devours her is euphoric and white hot. Her stomach is in knots, and the intensity only gets worse as Steve's deft fingers trace over her sweet little hole. His lips are heavenly, suckling on the little knot of nerves when his middle finger slowly slips into her soaked hole. There's a little pinch, and Aurora cries out around the stuffed animal. He moves like an expert, exactly in time with the strokes of his tongue, never leaving her completely empty, curling his fingers just right, into that sweet spot that has her seeing stars.
"You're so wet, baby." He hums momentarily, finger working a little harder with the buck of her hips.
Hooking up with college girls was both a blessing and a curse. Most girls that hooked up with Steve were shocked to find out that he actually paid attention to them, wasn't just using them as a means to get off. In that moment, he's sure that every single time before was practice for this very moment.
The moment that her thighs start shaking when he pushes a kiss onto her swollen little clit. When her hand reaches for his free one and squeezes so hard she might've cut off his circulation. When she whines out and her legs try to close, that's when he knows he's reached nirvana.
And he'd be an evil man not to help the orgasm explode, so he dips his head between her legs, and suckles, hard. That's all it takes for her to crumble apart. She hiccups around the stuffed toy and cries her little tears at the immense pleasure. Poor girl doesn't even know what to do with herself, yanking at his hair and twitching incredulously. Steve stays with her through the depths of her orgasm, licking from her clenching hole to her clit. He only lets out when her little cries turn pitiful, little sobs that wrack her chest.
"shh, baby, you're okay." His brows crease together as he raises back to his feet, noting the small lines of wetness falling from her eyes. He reaches for the stuffy, placing it back down onto the bed. Her arms reach out for him, and he instantly curls himself around her. "what's wrong, huh? Didn't feel good? Talk to me, baby."
"F-Felt so good," she whimpers out, chest still rapidly rising and falling. "'m all wet, 'n I've never felt like that before—"
"It can get a little overwhelming." Steve nodded. His hand strokes back her hair where it sits on her perspiring hairline. "It's alright, Rory. I'm so proud of you. Did so good, my special girl. My only girl."
He stays that night until her flustered murmurs die down. He helps her set her alarm for the next day, even shimmies a little pair of pyjama shorts over her legs. He's not used to this part, the care, the lingering touches and loving stares. He tells himself that he has to go about Rory differently, that's the only reason that he's not already back home by now. He tries to rationalise it as she falls asleep clinging to his arm.
And he refuses to acknowledge how much it hurts to climb out of her window.