A/N: A few words of forewarning. There won't be any smut - I just can't write smut for this movie, no-no! The rating is in place because of the language and the milder sexual stuff. The characters are all in their twenties in this fic, so that is fully reflected here, even though I tried to keep this light hearted.

Also, I'm a bit too young to remember the timeperiod correctly, but this is set in the early 90s, and I did try and keep things at least somewhat plausible for that. They listen to music from that era, make references to events etc. If there are mistakes, please bear with me.

The age difference between the girls and the boys is three years. Not sure if it's correct (I think Martha and Corey were just a year apart in real life), but I went with this. There seemed to be a larger gap in age in the movie (to me anyway).

1. Feels like the first time

Astoria. Wow.

Nothing had changed, or so Stef told herself as she picked up her suitcase and began walking down the street. The bus she'd taken here continued its journey soon after she got off; it left her with a sense of insecurity after her only means of escape was gone. She needed to remind herself that it had been her decision to come back in the first place, even as she was starting to feel the slow working dread of return in her bones.

Stephanie had left Astoria four years ago, set off to go as far away as possible in chase of her dreams. Returning now after a long absence was strange, but necessary. She hadn't really kept much contact with everyone else, although Andy called her in regular intervals, spreading the gossip, talking about her and Brand's upcoming wedding, and listening what Stef had to say in return. Her mother would write and call often as well, her questions oozing thinly veiled worry about Stef's choices. It wasn't spoken aloud, but Stef knew her mom was worried about her new life sweeping her off her feet and consuming her until there was nothing left. Such concerns were very understandable though.

She walked down the street in her heels, blonde curls framing her determined face as she carried her suit case. The people she passed by didn't seem all that interested in her, even if there were lingering stares, and she was glad that no one seemed to recognize her. It wasn't that strange however, seeing how her years in college had changed her. Instead of her gaudy glasses she wore contacts. Her clothes were form fitting and feminine. Her hair was longer too.

The transformation had started innocently enough. With her share of the treasure her parents had afforded any college she wanted, and so the book worm had chosen to expand her horizons, to travel, to leave. She'd applied and studied political science at first, until being seduced by literature. After a change of majors she'd buried herself in books, seeking to understand language and the machinations of history. But somewhere between classes and reading and being housed in her dorm room with a bunch of strangers, the move hadn't felt like such a good idea after all.

She'd searched for friends everywhere, eventually finding like minded people, people she desperately wanted to be like. With a bit of grooming her new friends had turned her into someone else, someone who truly made an impression. Bit by bit she'd taken more time simply socializing and done less studying.

A couple of dreadful dating experiences and uncomfortable situations later she'd come to realize she wasn't really happy. This new Stef simply hadn't been her.

So when Andy called up about the wedding and wanting to have her as a maid of honor Stef had relented; she'd promised to jump on the next bus and come for a visit. Andy had been overjoyed at this announcement, even going as far as saying she'd get the whole gang together for dinner, and they could exchange stories and go the beach together. Her response to this had been reserved at best, but she'd managed to make it sound nervous rather than horrified. Would they even remember her anymore? It wasn't like she'd been a pivotal part of the gang.

Stef scanned the streets for familiar faces, glancing at her wrist watch nervously, biting her lip. Her mother had promised to pick her up, but there was no sign of her yet. Her shoulders tensed at the realization, doubt lingered in her mind. She usually hated waiting and didn't miss a chance to promote the need for timeliness and punctuality. However here, at home, it didn't feel like time passed at all. She wasn't in a hurry to get to a meeting or a lecture, and the day was lovely; there was sunshine and a soft breeze, it was Thursday already so no one was in a hurry to get anywhere, everything around her was in full-bloom, and the gentle noise from the traffic and the people outside felt like balm to her ears after living in noise central for years now. Stef moved and sat down on a near-by bench, caught off-guard by just how much she'd missed these little things.

She sat a bit awkwardly, leaning over her legs, glad that she didn't need to maintain a good posture, but could just be herself for a change, be the Stef she'd used to be. The wind pushed at her chin-length curls playfully, and she brushed them behind her ear, taking in the moment. One arm holding onto her bare shoulder, she just looked onwards, mind fleeing to better days, like that moment on the beach when the long forgotten pirate ship had set sail, and they had watched it glide onwards gracefully against the sunrise.

Then she felt a presence behind her, like someone was standing right there, watching her. Certainly she was just imagining it, she told herself, wanting to brush it off. But she could ignore it once it started talking to her.

"Waiting for a ride, Stef?"

His voice was more mature, teasing surely, but it had a whole new layer to it; it was kind of mellifluous, full. In spite of not hearing it for years now, Stef recognized it in an instant, for back when they had snuck into caverns beneath the town and argued over pointless details, she'd heard it constantly.

She turned to him slowly, his old nick name already ready to fall off her tongue, only to be held back at the last minute when she was caught in her own ideas of proper behavior. So like with so many things in the recent years, Stef held back and came up with a more proper response.

"Hey Clark," she greeted him, taking in the sight of him with a foreign amount of excitement.

"Hey Clark?" he repeated her words, making a face at her, "You've been away for so long you don't even call me 'Mouth' anymore?"

Stef was caught in the sight of him though; His baby face had matured with the growth spurts she hadn't been around to witness. He was tall now, clad in a pair of undeniably good looking Levis and a t-shirt. His long hair looked ruffled but good, and he'd clearly stopped combing it at every opportunity at some point. Mouth certainly wasn't a kid anymore, but a very grown man and a very agreeable sight to behold. She could feel the muscles in her stomach tighten unexplainably, how he invoked certain titillation in her. It was downright embarrassing!

"Sorry," she stuttered back, flustered with the way her own body was behaving. It seemed completely divorced with the facts that he was a kid she'd pretty much babysat. Hell, he was three years her junior, but sitting here now, those years seemed to vanish away, dissolved in her absence.

"It was a long bus ride."

He quirked a brow at her statement, eyes fixed on her slender neck and flawless skin. For a moment he remained unreadable, which was very unlike the loquacious Mouth she knew from her childhood. The change was odd, for back in the old days they would've already been at each other's throats at the smallest sign of exasperation. He had been a master at rattling her.

"You're looking good," he eventually complimented, pulling his hands from his pockets and walking to her side. Her eyes were glued to him as he walked; they travelled up and down his tanned arms in a most appreciating manner.

"You too," she responded weakly, barely speaking loud enough for him to hear, but he did hear her words, and the comment made him smile. It was catching. She couldn't tell if she'd noticed his smile ever before, but it was beautiful.

Stef straightened herself, pulling her silky blouse back in place and pressing her knees together harder. Her pencil skirt hovered slightly above her knees, which was perfectly modest, but she was feeling awfully self-conscious about it suddenly.

Mouth didn't circle over to sit next to her though; no he picked up her suit case and motioned her towards a car parked a bit further away. "I promised your mom I'd pick you up," he then explained, making no big deal about it.

Struck by surprise she stood up, suddenly standing quite close to him, watching his amusement as he took in her bewilderment. Close up she saw the traces of his stubble, smelled that familiar scent of sand and beer and could tell the color of his eyes. Again the muscles of her stomach tensed, sweat gathered against the back of her knees and something inside her just quavered.

"She didn't mention you," she said dumbly, knowing full well her mom had no way of reaching her while she was taking the bus. It bothered her though, how he'd just conveniently appeared, taken her completely off-guard. She didn't particularly like surprises.

Mouth's laugh was low, complimenting. "She had some errands to run and was having trouble finding the time. I ran into her in the market and said I would drop you off if it helped."

Such a simple explanation, she realized with relief. And he looked back at her with the traces of a smile, looking and feeling so familiar and so foreign. This made her vacillate between her previous conclusions about him as a pest and an impetuous child and this newfound fascination.

"Ok then," she said, not really knowing what else to say. Stef stepped back a bit and pushed her purse over her shoulder, looking away whilst making painful faces. "That's very nice of you."

Mouth honestly didn't know what the hell was up with her, but he took in her somewhat awkward behavior with a smile nevertheless. He'd jumped at the opportunity to see her again, having actually somewhat missed having her around to argue with. No one else had ever been quite that good at keeping up with his antics or verbal sparring. Mickey had often joked Stef was the only girl who could put him back in his place, and Mouth thought so too. To find her like this, so different and kind of aloof, although looking incredible with her new attire, was somewhat scary. Andy had been talking about Stef coming back to town for days now, building anticipation in everyone (him included), and now that Stef was here he was kind of worried about her.

He chose to avoid making assumptions quite yet though. Maybe she was just tired and would settle in later on? He didn't particularly like the alternative.

Stef followed Mouth to his car, an old Chevy he must've fixed up himself, and watched as he wrestled her suit case in the back before walking up to her and opening the door for her. She felt a small blush emerge as he held the door and closed after her. Suddenly she recalled Andy's mentions of his luck with opposite sex nowadays, believing the stories wholeheartedly now. Good looking and courteous usually got you pretty far in her experience.

Mouth stepped in as well, and he started the car casually, setting his eyes on the road. He felt a small desire take another peek at her long legs that her skirt graciously showed off and fought against it, reminding himself mentally that she was an old friend: An insanely hot and foul-mouthed old friend, but friend nevertheless.

"So you came for the wedding?" Mouth asked her with no particular interest in the subject. Mickey was working as the best man, of course, but the whole gang was invited and involved heavily the preparations. He didn't mind helping because it gave him more quality time with his friends over beer, although he had to admit all the talk about preparations was beginning to irk him.

She didn't respond at first, just stared out of the window languidly, so he continued, "If that's the case aren't you a bit early?"

This made Stef react and turn her face to him. She looked kind of evasive in his opinion. "I've been away too long, so when Andy asked I just wanted to come."

"Running from something?" He teased her lightly.

Stef rolled her eyes at this, actually loosening up now. He was such easy company. "Like what Mouth? The Mob?"

"Hey you never know. The good girl gone bad routine's pretty popular in the big city or so I hear," he joked back, taking notice of the way she was starting to sound more like herself already.

"I haven't gone bad," she scoffed at him, feigning minor umbrage. "I'm doing O.K., ok?"

The words could've been a whole lot more convincing, but he didn't push it. Whatever had happened to her in the past four years, she seemed to be doing well. The little info Andy provided was usually pretty banal; Stef is still in college, Stef is dating a Poli Sci Major, Stef is not coming home for Christmas, yada yada yaa. It was different to see her now though, to truly realize how much she'd changed.

"So you're still studying literature?" he asked instead, trying to veer the conversation to a safer topic. As much as he'd enjoyed vexing her, this new Stef seemed a whole lot more thin-skinned. He didn't want to mouth her off.

"Yeah, I am," she responded. "It's beautiful. Literature teaches us about ourselves, and shows us these wonderful worlds and visions. It makes you feel like someone else entirely." Her voice was soft and dreamy for a moment, and he noticed her vulnerability then. Stef hadn't really realized how much she'd drifted away from the thing she loved.

"And you?" she countered the question, still a bit queasy about that strange knot inside her he'd brought forth. "What're you up to?"

"Helping my dad," Mouth responded without delay. He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing and made no attempt to hide it either. "His health hasn't been all that good, so I help him out."

There pain in his voice, something that alerted her about this health problem probably being a bit more serious than he let on. Stef wondered why Andy hadn't mentioned about it. She wanted to say something supportive and eloquent, but instead could only manage a lame comment, "Plumming's cool."

He snorted at her comment. "So when your pipes break down you know who to call."

There was a dirty joke in there somewhere, and she realized she was blushing again. Now she could add 'handy with his hands' on her list of his virtues. It would be such a cliché to hit it off with the plumber though, she thought, and then shook her head at it.

"Only reason I would ever call you."

"Only reason I would ever come to your house, Stef."

They exchanged a look and smiled. It was starting to feel a whole lot homey now, with them going at it like they'd used to.

"Seriously though," she started, nervous all of the sudden, kind of shaky about his reaction. "I'm really grateful you're giving me a ride. It'd be nice if you let me at least make you a cup of coffee."

Anticipation built in her even for such an innocent suggestion. Stef realized she didn't want him to go just yet, wanted to chat some more, to immerse in his easygoing charm and feel like a kid again. It was rejuvenating.

"Sure," he said, gripping the wheel a bit tighter now unbeknownst to her as she was looking out again. "I'd like that."

He glanced at her discreetly, eyes on her colorful silk blouse and the way it hung over her precious skin, landing softly over her breasts. His eyes followed her frame to her legs, smooth and shaven. Damn, she was totally getting under his skin now, and with so little effort.

They arrived on her lane, and he parked the car on the empty yard, which basically meant her dad was still at the docks and her mom was still running her errands. The thought of an empty house made her a bit nervous, but she didn't let it show when she climbed out of the car and motioned him to follow her to the house. Mouth dried his moist hands on his jeans before he picked up her luggage and followed suit, watching curiously at her swinging walk and the way her skirt embraced her behind. It was entrancing.

Stef picked up the spare key and led them inside. It was completely quiet, even as she hollered for response while trying to open the straps of her high heels to strip them from her feet. She stopped at the door, and made way for Mouth whilst trying to keep balance on one foot, which gained an eye roll from him. He simply kicked his sneakers off his feet and proceeded inside, leaving her things at the door.

By the time Stef had wrestled out of her shoes, Mouth was already at her parents' kitchen, picking up cups and coffee like he belonged. She had a nagging suspicion that he'd been here recently, probably working on the kitchen, since he seemed to know his way around here. She pushed herself next to him, taking the coffee from his hands and saying, "Here, let me."

He didn't mind her intervention; he just had a trouble staying put without doing anything, so he tended to make himself useful. When she stepped into his personal space again though, he was caught in the moment, smelling her fresh fruity scent that was mixed with sweat. He could feel a stirring inside him, old lust reawakening. He'd crushed on her so hard back in the day, thought of her often in his private hours. It was odd that after countless others and all this time she still had this effect on him. In fact, the effect was all the more torturous now with her in full-bloom.

Her hands were shaking a bit as she measured the correct amount of coffee into the machine. Gladly, she was able to mask it as urgency rather than nervousness. They didn't speak at all as she did this, and the only sound in the house was the old clock ticking precious seconds away. Mouth was leaning against the counter, hands folded across his chest as he watched her work.

She didn't know what think about him being this tongue-tied. Was it maturity or something else? Maybe it didn't matter at all, and maybe it did. Stef would've appreciated some manner of distraction though, because his stare made her hot and bothered, and she didn't know how long she could possibly endure it.

Once the task was finished she turned to him briskly. "It'll take a minute. Maybe we should sit down?"

She threw a glance at the hallway leading to the living room and he caught that, proceeding to move towards the suggested area. Relief washed over her as the eye contact broke, and he walked on, probably clueless to the effect he was having with her. It was downright frightening! Stef followed him though, not wanting to appear ungrateful or bitchy, and partially because she needed to be close by.

Mouth sat down on the sofa, made himself comfortable, and then smiled at her self-assuredly, tapping the empty spot next to him innocently enough. She swallowed visibly, tried to mask it as some kind of dry throat swallow instead of whatever the hell it really was. Then she followed him, and sat down on the opposite end of the sofa, lifting her legs by her side and turning to him.

Cue for awkward silence.

"Never expected either of us to maintain silence this long," he eventually joked, breaking the ice successfully as she giggled at his words a bit.

"True. So true."

Stef threw her head back, all relaxed and amused, and he thought she looked more beautiful than ever.

"I don't feel myself today, at all. For one I don't have the unexplainable urge to assault you."

Mouth quirked a brow at this. "Really? Must be serious then. My arms were bruised for years after your abuse."

"You were being such an annoying little shit!" she tried to defend herself.

"True, but that's no excuse."

Oh god why was his voice so titillating? Stef almost found herself wanting to tussle like back in the good old times.

"You were always on my case, Mouth, and you just wouldn't let it go," she responded a bit weakly, self-conscious under his stare. It was almost smoldering.

"How else was I supposed to get you to notice me?" he asked, leaning in suddenly, throwing her heartbeat out of sync. Her palpation became noticeable, yet she ignored it, more focused on his face; how it carried a mix of determination and capricious excitement.

She remembered those moments in the cave and on the beach so clearly right now; her stupid offer to feed him oxygen should he run out of breath under water; the way he'd thanked her afterwards, clearly at a loss of words, and then hugging her; and finally how they'd stood together, watching as the ship glided into view, a representation of their own coming of age.

"I always noticed you," she confessed shyly, waves of anticipation licking her body, leaving her almost exhausted in their wake.

"You did?" he asked, inching closer, trying to gauge her interest, her reaction. "You always treated me like a nuisance, Stef."

But his words weren't an accusation; they were spoken with a hint of amusement.

"You were a nuisance," she responded, feeling the urge to pull away, to move, to break the spell. She remained still though, caught in this moment, his silent approach, her wanting to kiss him more than anything.

"Only because I was crushing on you," Mouth admitted, eyes sparkling. His words were rather a sexual innuendo than confession, to her anyway. Stef was about to say something when his hand landed on her thigh, and their eyes connected the moment that happened as he sought her approval. She didn't object at all.

His hand slid up a bit, eliciting a low moan from her lips. It vanquished his nervousness, brought forth his usual confidence. Stef struggled to maintain eye contact when all she wanted to do was to lie down and close her eyes. This was such a strange situation, certainly not something she'd imagined doing when she got back. And yet the attraction was immense, heavy; it weighted her down, wanting to be expelled.

"Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked with a smirk, pushing closer into her personal space. Her skin felt hot, buzzing with this craving for him.

"And here I was forgetting why they called you Mouth," she responded sarcastically, insinuating that she would've preferred silence at this particular time.

"Oh, trust me. You have no idea why they call me Mouth," he replied, his voice husky, bragging. Her breathing became hitched, and she ached for him, to actually find out if it was all bark and no bite.

"Show me then," Stef invited him, moving closer to him as well, their lips crashing together a moment later.

It was a hot mess; his hands cupped her face quickly, keeping her in place as he tilted his face, and she closed her eyes, drowning in the sensations, in his flavor, in him. Somehow Mouth had learned how to kiss a girl in her absence, a fact she couldn't attribute to anything else than a lot of practice. And while the thought stung a bit, jealousy was just a flash in her mind, lost underneath this perfect moment when all they did was kiss.

Their lips parted, and he looked at her, a smile dancing on his lips, that familiar look of adoration on him. Stef had also opened her eyes; she looked bewildered, out of breath. Her lips were swollen with his attention, sensitive and craving, but in her eyes there was appreciation. Mouth brushed her wild hair from her face, a single innocent touch setting her skin aflame.

She kissed him again, grabbing the front of his shirt to pull him closer. And he followed her when she leaned against the arm of the sofa, opening her lips for him to explore. Mouth moved one hand on the sofa to keep his weight from being slumped on her and one hand to her breast. He expected resistance, a disapproving growl or look, but she didn't do any of that. He closed his hand around her breast, finding her receptive to it, and then he did it again. Stef moved one hand across his neck and into his hair, fingers curling into it. He nipped her bottom lip, absorbing the sight of her carefree smile.

He'd dreamt of this moment for years now, believing he'd blown his chances when she'd left Astoria; that she'd been the one that got away.

Stef jerked violently at the sound of a key turning in the lock of the front door. Mouth heard it too, freezing where he was, before turning to the door, and then quickly stumbling to his feet, separated from her. Panic flooded Stef's senses, it drove her to stand up and straighten her rumpled clothes. She wiped her lips against the back of her hand, fixed her hair, walking away already, refusing to look at him. Mouth wanted to grab her wrist and pull her back into his embrace, to tell her it didn't matter, that he didn't care if her mom caught them, but she was gone already, and he was left standing, brushing his hair in order.

A moment later Stef's mother came in through the front door, greeting them both joyously, expressing her gratitude for Mouth's incredible kindness. Stef stood on the opposite end of the hall from him, leaning against the wall and nodding languidly at her mother's words, eyes cast to the wall.

"Didn't Stef offer you anything, Clark?" her mother asked suddenly, making her way to the kitchen.

Stef stiffened visibly when she was left alone in the corridor with him again. "Yeah, I was making coffee," she explained to her mother, begging silently for Mouth to stay silent for once. He was staring at her though, still caught in the maelstrom of what had happened a few minutes ago. She didn't dare look back at him.

"Looks like the coffee is done," her mother informed her, and she saw Mouth take a step towards her from her eye corner. Unable to take the pressure at this time, Stef bolted towards the stairs.

"That's great mom. Why don't you two have a cup while I go upstairs and change some clothes?" she offered, already running upstairs like a scared little girl, leaving Mouth downstairs, looking after her like a puppy that had just gotten kicked.

This was not the way he'd expected this reunion to end.

Stef's mom appeared into view again, frowning at the sight of Mouth standing alone in the corridor. "That girl," she whispered with disapproval, "Probably didn't even thank you for the ride."

At this, Mouth only smiled though, appearing somewhat inscrutable. "Oh, she did thank me," he settled to say before following Mrs. Steinbrenner to the kitchen.

TBC