Work Text:
“Watch out, Nancy Drew, you missed a coffee stain over there,” grumbled Nancy to herself, mimicking Bruce's accent, as she cleaned the trash off the desks after everyone else had gone home. Well, not exactly everyone else: Jonathan was still in the darkroom, the red light illuminated, and she was hardly in the mood for another lecture on why opening the door when the light was on was a terrible idea.
She hadn’t been allowed to write anything at all so far, and she didn’t have a lead on a big story or anything. It was depressing.
Hearing the darkroom door open, she looked up.
”Hey,” said Jonathan, taking the garbage bag from her to put his own trash in there. “You want to do something tonight?” He asked.
“What did you have in mind?”
He shrugged. “We could go to the movies.”
”Hmmm... I’m kind of thinking I’ve had enough of people for the day,” she admitted with a slight pout.
”Well...” He hesitated. “My house is empty, Mom’s at work and Will’s out with his friends.”
Dropping the garbage bag on the floor, she turned to wrap her arms around Jonathan’s neck before kissing him.
”I like the way you think.”
”You could sleep over.”
”So I could.." she smirked. As if this would somehow be the first time.
She’d barely spent a night away from Jonathan all summer. It was easier for them to spend nights together now that there was no school to worry about, and her mom no longer came to her room every morning to wake her up at the same time as Mike.
”And I think we have lasagna ingredients there, so we can have dinner.”
”Mmmm... Sounds good.”
"Can I take that as a yes, then?" He asked, lifting a brow.
She pretended to consider. "I think you've got me convinced."
"Are you calling me a good salesman?"
"Don't push your luck."
***
As much as Nancy loved her mom's cooking, Jonathan's barely came up short in comparison to hers. The food he made was always prepared with such love. She may have also been a little biased because she wholly enjoyed watching him cook with an apron on top of his work clothes. The sight reminded her that he was the exact opposite of all the jerks at work, as well as provided her with an enticing view of his ass.
She could’ve sat at the table, sipping tea, but instead chose to perch herself on the counter, her legs dangling in the air, as Jonathan put the lasagna together.
"All done," he declared, closing the oven. "Should be ready in about a half an hour."
"What should we do while waiting?" She joked as he stepped closer.
His arms encircled her waist, tightening to pull her close. She hummed in agreement when he finally kissed her properly, his tongue plunging into her mouth. These were the kisses they rarely exchanged during the day, but they always served to make her toes curl and her cheeks heat up.
"Would this be such a bad idea?" He asked huskily as they parted momentarily, one of his hands moving to her thigh, his forehead resting against hers.
"Frankly, I think that's the best idea I've heard from you all day," she teased, looping her arms around his neck.
Within minutes, Jonathan's apron was nowhere to be found, his shirt untucked to allow her eager hands to roam on his stomach and chest. His erection was pressing into her leg, growing with every passing second. She bit into his neck, making him gasp.
"You're killing me," he groaned.
"Stop talking and let me down," she replied, shoving him away to jump off the counter.
Their height difference was much more pronounced this way, standing face-to-face, with barely a fraction of an inch of air between them, with her shoes abandoned in the corner of the room. Nevertheless, that didn't have an effect on her ability to undo his belt and pants and push them down. He returned the favor by hiking up her dress, gingerly hooking fingers in her underwear to pull them off. The garment hit the floor and Nancy stepped out before turning around to place her hands on the counter. They'd never done this anywhere else in his house, except for his room, and for some reason that turned her on even more.
His hands grasped her hips as he thrust inside her from the behind with a gasp. It felt different from this angle, like he reached in deeper, but it wasn’t painful. She didn't have the upper hand this time, but she liked the feeling, trusting him to do right by her.
He stilled, leaning on her shoulder.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Nothing. I'm trying not to come right away," he confessed with a laugh.
"We've got all night, don't we?" She moaned, pushing her hips into his.
Jonathan hissed, but started moving again, the strokes long and deep. Relinquishing his hold on one of her hipbones, his hand moved lower to caress her between her legs. Closing her eyes, she whimpered, now moving against his hand.
"How's that?" He asked, his breath hot in her ear.
Her control shattered, her hips bucking into his cock, still moving inside of her, a high-pitched cry leaving her throat. Jonathan shuddered, his arms flying to wrap around her waist.
Trying to catch her breath, Nancy braced herself on the counter, no longer bothering to hold up her weight. Her legs were like jelly, and she would've collapsed on the floor if it weren't for Jonathan's steadying arm around her. He slumped on one of the chairs around the kitchen table, swiftly pulling her to sit in his lap.
"I seriously can't believe we did this in my mom's kitchen," he said, his chest shaking with a disbelieving and slightly horrified snort.
Nancy grinned.
"Will you ever be able to come into this room again without blushing and giving it all away?"
"I may have to let Mom and Will cook their own breakfast tomorrow morning. That should give me some time to recover."
The ring of the egg-timer forced Jonathan out of the chair, leaving Nancy a with a perfect opportunity to get clean in the bathroom. Taking a good look at herself in the mirror, she examined her disheveled hair and non-existent lipstick, which she suspected had to be all over Chef Byers. She fixed her appearance as fast as she could, giving into the rumbling of her stomach in response to the delicious scents wafting in from the kitchen.
***
After dinner they settled into the living room, snuggled close on the couch. The TV was on, set to an old movie, but if someone had asked her to write an essay on it, she would've certainly failed, as Jonathan’s fingers were currently creeping underneath the hem of her dress, caressing the skin of her thigh, the desire rising up again in both of them. Sighing, she shifted to improve his access. It was the strangest thing how two people could fit so well together physically, whether the touch was sexual or not. Because of him, she now understood the importance of stolen moments, shared in his car during school lunch breaks and the darkroom of their workplace. The true magic of love wasn't in grand gestures, but in the way you felt around someone even on the most ordinary of days.
Then again, this was what it was supposed to be like, wasn’t it? Being in love. Sure, she was pretty sure she had the crappiest summer job in Hawkins, but she’d lucked out in the boyfriend department. She could confide in him about things she wouldn’t even consider telling anyone else, and she didn’t have to subdue her feelings. After pretending for so long, she felt free.
All of a sudden the lights went out and the TV flashed dark, the entire house plunging into an eerie silence. Jonathan stiffened beside her.
”What is it?” She asked, although the blackout had sent her own heart to her throat just the same. Lights going out without an apparent reason was never a good thing.
He remained silent at first, but as nothing weird happened, Nancy's pulse normalized. It was the summer, maybe Hawkins was just using too much energy in order to stay cool.
”I was just trying to remember if I paid the electric bill, but I did, so-“
”It’s probably not just your house,” she replied, running a reassuring hand down his arm. She hated that he had to worry about things like that, and the fact that it was something she had so little insight into annoyed her. It was so foreign to her, too, and sometimes she wondered if he was bothered by that.
Actually, scratch that, she knew he was bothered by that. Jonathan had his pride and still kept too much of his troubles to himself, especially if he felt she wouldn’t be able to help out.
”Yeah.”
”Maybe the heat caused something to blow up,” she offered to comfort him. Maybe this could turn into an interesting lead on a story tomorrow. Filing the idea into the back of her mind for later use, she reached out to undo Jonathan's tie.
”Could be.”
”God, how will we ever manage without the lights?” She asked playfully, hoping to get him back in the right mood.
Although it took a few seconds for him to reply, but when he did, his tone revealed that her attempt had been successful.
”I have a flashlight, and there should be candles in the kitchen if you want to play cards or something,” he said innocently, pressing a kiss to her throat.
She chuckled at the card suggestion. “Do you need a flashlight to get us to your room?”
”I think I know my way around the place,” he answered, gently pulling her up from the couch, an arm secured around her waist.
Trying to scramble around the dark bedroom wasn’t ideal for decent foreplay, so they both ended up undressing themselves, their clothes landing somewhere. She was pretty sure some of Jonathan’s were actually on the bed.
His warm body awaited her beneath the sheets. It had been a while since they’d had to do this with it being so dark, but as they said, when you lost one sense, the other ones were heightened. How great it was to have the house to themselves, and now with no chance of any distractions or anybody catching them, she wanted to take the time to savor everything. Jonathan's arms wrapped around her to pull her close, and she burrowed into his chest without hesitation, letting her lips graze his pectoral. How was she going to get used to sleeping any other way besides this after this summer?
Jonathan's palm rested on her buttock, giving it a gentle squeeze before kneading it. She arched against him in pleasure, the movement giving her a good feel of how turned on he already was. Biting into her lip, she decided it was her turn to be in charge.
Getting him to lay back on the bed was easy, his body obeying the gentle command of her palm on his chest, pushing him back. Next her nails scratched a path down his chest and stomach, making him shiver in anticipation. Her lips followed, stopping to lick all the most sensitive spots. She was deliberately avoiding the place he clearly wanted to be touched the most. Climbing fully on top of him, Nancy pinned his arms on either side of his head before kissing him deeply.
She ran a finger up and down his shaft before closing her lips around only the head at first. Little by little, she took him deeper into her mouth. His breathing was ragged, and she knew it was pure torture for him to be barely able to see her in the darkness.
“Nancy, I-oh-“ he moaned from between gritted teeth.
Her reply was to suck harder, and just as he came into her mouth, the lights flickered back on, making her blink.
Jonathan’s eyes were still closed, his breathing shallow as she released him and sidled up to him.
“Hey,” he sighed, his eyes opening.
“Are you all right?” She chuckled.
“Never better, but you’ve got to wait for a while now.”
“It was still worth it,” she argued, her eyes scanning their messy surroundings for one of his soft t-shirts to wear for the night.
"You want the grey one, Nance?"
She grinned. The grey one happened to be one of her favorites. "Yeah, either that or the green one."
"Well, the grey one's here, under the bed," he replied, his upper body disappearing over the edge of the mattress to pick up the shirt.
She was aware of the times his mom misplaced an important item and that Jonathan was usually the one to find it, but even despite that, he seemed to have inherited some of that same trait of not placing things where they belonged.
"Thank you. Just for the record, you're going to have to start keeping your stuff in better order, because I won't be sharing an apartment with a total pig," she announced.
"Sharing an apartment?" He repeated, a tiny careful smile playing on his lips.
"Am I getting ahead of myself?" She frowned.
"No, no... I mean, it just sounds like a dream."
"Can't you see it happening for real?"
"I want it to happen."
"But?"
Jonathan drew in a deep breath. "I don't know how long it'll take until I can afford to move out."
Right. Sometimes she could be so stupid. Getting a place of her own was just about the first thing she wanted to do when she was out of high school, but to Jonathan it was different to want than to get. It was the same thing as with the bills. Unknown, foreign to her.
"So I don't want to promise you something I don't know I can make happen anytime soon," he exhaled.
As childish as it was, stubborn tears sprung up in her eyes. The prospect of leaving Jonathan behind, of being separated from him, was devastating, especially for a reason she might never have much insight on. Still, it was idiotic to mourn something that would hopefully never happen, wasn't it?
"I'm sorry," he continued, his voice gentle, throwing an arm around her. "I don't know if this makes any difference, but I'm going to do all I can to make it happen, I promise, because that's how much I want it."
"Of course it matters," she sniffled, wiping the tears off.
"I have to believe it'll all work out in the end. If there's no hope, then what reason is there to keep fighting?"
She nodded. "That's a good thing to believe. I love you, you know that, right?” She whispered, bringing her mouth to his ear. Did she tell him that often enough? Sometimes she felt that she didn't.
He smiled. “Yeah, I do. I love you, too."
"That's got to count for something, right? Even in the future."
"It does."
"Then that's all the assurance I need," she answered quietly, squeezing his hand.
Jonathan leaned back, pulling her down with him until she was nestled against his side, her cheek on his shoulder.
"Forget what I said before... I don't care if you're a little messy, as long as you're there," she said softly.