A/N: Probably needs some editing, but I wanted to get it up quick, I'll get round to it! Enjoy! Maybe leave a review? There'll be another chapter on the way!
She's got to tell Steve. Not, the specifics, exactly, just that she's too distracted to be there the way he deserves. Maybe she'll tell him she's feeling guilty that she's still scared. Nancy wants to keep things as honest as she can, considering the details she's already decided to omit. Another fist fight is the last thing she wants.
There'd been a rift of sorts forming between them for months, the nightmares had been getting worse and it was all she wanted to talk about, she just couldn't bring it up to Steve. He was coping his own way, doing a brilliant job at pretending the monsters weren't bearing in on them. It wasn't that she hadn't tried, it was just the look on his face, the immediate insistence that "everything's fine now, Nance" in a voice that ended the conversation where it started.
She could talk about it with Johnathan, or she could have if she hadn't utterly and completely humiliated herself in front of him. Nancy hid the radio under her bed after that night and had avoided using it since. Even as the nightmares got increasingly more terrifying she resisted the temptation of reaching out for him, for the sound of his voice and another heavenly nights sleep. They'd crossed paths a few times in the weeks that had followed their late night conversation, and it was just as bad as she'd been dreading.
On Friday he'd stopped by to pick up Will, but her mother had insisted both he and Will stay for the lasagna she'd made. Last to the meal Nancy had been forced to sit across the table from him and those eyes. Their hands had brushed against one another as he passed her a napkin; she had to resist the urge to kick him when their eyes met and she saw how he was looking at her. This was his fault, after all. His skin is warm, and she pulls her hand away a little too quickly.
The next Wednesday, when she should have been studying, she bumped into him in the store where his mother worked. He was picking up film and she needed bulbs, they collided between isles, both heading for the counter. He smiled at her and it didn't say "I know your secret", it just said "I'm happy to see you". She smiled back, but she couldn't bring herself to hold conversation. He lets her go first at the counter, she doesn't know that he's admiring where her neck meets her jawline as she glances back at him, embedding the picture in his memory. If they can both pretend it never happened maybe she can get through this.
Another lonely week passed and she'd been dreaming of him between the nightmares. When she wakes up with sweat cooling on her skin and the sheets untucked it's not always because she's just been back to the Upside Down.
On Monday morning she wakes from a vision of heat, his body against hers, all a strange shade of red. She hadn't seen Steve all that past weekend and it only adds to her guilt, she's gathering the courage to tell him she can't do it any more.
At school she doesn't go to lunch, she's got no appetite. Instead she heads to a bathroom and stares her self down in the mirror, she looks tired, tossing and turning all night will do that to you. Waking up to the sensation of phantom hands, disappearing with the grip of sleep, keeps you awake and burning.
As she leaves, lost in thought, she swings the door open forcefully. It hits someone making their way down the hall and they drop the folder they're holding. She's down on her knees, gathering the pictures that have fanned out across the floor and apologising profusely, before she even looks up to see who it is.
"Hey, Nancy, don't worry about it." Jonathan squats down next to her and begins shoving the pictures back into the folder. She looks up at the sound of his voice, all eyes and anxiety. When the folder is full again they stand together. She curses herself for picking the bathroom nearest the dark room, she knew that's where he spends his lunch breaks. Despite the discomfort at how close he is, how those eyes look right through her, she can't just run away.
"How are you?" She tries, instead of fleeing.
"Good, I'm working on a new project." He taps the folder, "how are you?"
"I'm...fine. Good, even." She's lying through her teeth and he knows it, the dark circles around her eyes are rivalling his.
They turn when they hear snickering, a group of girls the year below them are watching them from the end of the hallway, whispering behind their hands. They shriek when they see Nancy and Johnathan looking, and take off around the corner. She hangs her head, and he shuffles awkwardly, unsure of how to apologise. It wasn't just that she was seeing Steve, it was that it was Johnathan Byers that they thought she'd cheated with. Strange, silent Johnathan who was always lurking around with that camera.
"Look, let's talk in here." He takes her hand, after checking that the hallway was empty, and leads her into the dark room where his photos are hung up in rows. It takes her a moment to adjust to the light. It's so warm in the little room that she shrugs her jacket off her shoulders, dropping it into a corner with her bag.
"I'm sorry." Nancy says, and she's not sure if she's apologising for the mockery of their peers or the fact she's been avoiding him like the plague.
"That's my line." He says, and she thinks about the way his mouth turns up at the corners, the slow spread of his smile.
"Can I help you with something?" She says, gesturing towards the row of trays.
"I've just got a few I need to develop, you could hang them up for me? If you want."
"Yeah." She's glad to have something to focus on outside of how small the room is, how close they come to touching each time he hands her a picture. They're of the boys, mostly. Playing D&D, faces bright in triumph or crumpled in defeat. A couple of them on their bikes, taking off down the driveway of the Byer's house. There's a few of his mom, mostly smiling into the lens, but one caught her staring out the kitchen window, cigarette between her fingers. Nancy lingers on this one, wondering how he'd manage to capture so much of who she was in a single snapshot.
"This is great." Nancy comments as she clips it on the line, and he suppresses a smile of pride.
"Thanks" he says, and lays another picture in the tray. She watches it develop, and is shocked to see herself appearing on the paper. It's from the night he stayed for dinner, she's stood over the sink where she's just deposited her plate, eyes cast down. She looks sad, serious, brow furrowed like she's worried about something.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken that." He rushes forwards to pull it out of the tray when he catches her looking, but she stops him.
"No, no. It's good. I just... look so tired." Her face echoes the picture as she looks down at it, and Jonathan watches her face intently.
"Are you? Tired, I mean?"
Nancy almost laughs, she's not slept properly for almost a month and is running on about four hours a night.
"Exhausted."
"When did you last get some rest? Actual rest?"
She bites down on her bottom lip, wondering if he knows, if he's just torturing her. But when she meets his eyes she just sees concern. Feeling a little braver in the dark she decides there's no use running from her embarrassment, not when she's trapped with it every time they speak.
"The night we... talked. On-on the radios." The stutter catches her off guard and she digs her fingernails into her palms, punishing herself for letting the nerves show.
"Oh." Its hardly annunciated, his mouth just makes the shape of the sound.
"Uh, yeah" she breaks eye contact, focusing on her shoes instead.
Johnathan isn't sure if he wants to bolt out the door or push her against the wall and finally kiss her. He'd been terrified after that night, especially after he realised she was avoiding him, sure that he'd well and truly ruined their friendship. Only now does he consider that she'd been worried about what he thought of her. Mostly he wants to reassure her, but there's something else stirring inside.
"Have you tried to, um, help yourself sleep li-like that since?"
When she snaps her head back up like he's shocked her he wonders for a moment if she's going to hit him. Instead she tilts her head slightly, unreadable,
"No." Her tone is odd, and he can't solve her expression,
"Why not?"
"Because it makes me think about you."
Johnathan isn't sure how to take that, he's a little worried she's about to crush him under her heel.
"About me?"
"About what you said. What you think about."
He swallows hard, trying to wet his drying throat. The room is sauna-like and she's so close he can smell her perfume, light and floral, like spring.
"I'm sorry, Nancy, I shouldn't have-"
"I liked it, Johnathan. That's the problem." Their eyes burn into one another for a long, tense moment. He's thinking about that sound she made, she's remembering the images his gruff voice had left her with.
They move together both at once, his hands cup her face and she lifts onto her toes to meet him. His lips are chapped and rough against hers, it's so decidedly Johnathan, exactly what she'd expected kissing him to be like. The sound of appreciation she makes against his mouth is all the encouragement he needs to take things further. His arms are suddenly around her waist and he's pushing her backwards, her feet are hardly touching the ground when he pins her to the wall and deepens the kiss. She tastes like strawberry lip-balm and spearmint toothpaste, sweetness interrupted by something cool and sharp.
Nancy's hands spread across his chest, she can feel his heartbeat under her fingers. She slides one down to his waistband and under his t-shirt, exploring the hard planes of his stomach, pushing her fingers through the hair below his naval, dipping into his jeans and teasing the skin just below the elastic of his boxers.
Johnathan's head is swimming, he presses himself against her, grinds his hips into hers, but he still can't get close enough. His lips leave hers, ghosting across her jawline before he nuzzles into her neck. It's a dream, a fantasy he's been playing out for months. He's worried that if he breaks contact she'll disappear completely. He sighs his disappointment against her throat when she slips her fingers out of his jeans and she feels his hardness jump against her lower stomach.
He cups her face in his hands and pulls her lips back to his, kissing her with a fervour that stole her breath, and remaining reason, away. If she wasn't careful this could turn into something serious, something she couldn't control. When he scrapes his teeth over her bottom lip and grinds his hips into hers she decides she doesn't care how real it gets, as long as she has all of him. Jonathan's right hand leaves her face and trails it's way down her neck, stopping to hover warily over her breast before she pushed forwards into his palm. With her encouragement his left hand joined the other. He rubbed his thumbs over breasts, hard enough that she could feel the rough wool of her sweater through the cotton of her shirt.
Nancy flicks her tongue over his bottom lip, running her fingers through his hair. When he breaks their kiss she blinks up at him, eyes filled with disappointment. He holds her gaze, one of his hands moves down her body, coming to rest on the back of her thigh. His fingertips brushed just below the hem of her skirt, her breath caught as he teased the skin there, inching up her skirt. Chills followed his fingers across her flesh, she shivered when they found their way onto her inner thigh, tracing patterns over her skin. She bit her lip to keep a moan from escaping, her breath got heavier as the room got hotter. When his fingers found the elastic of her panties he stopped, searching her face for confirmation. Her nod was almost imperceptible, it was her eyes that told him yes, the way they rolled back when he ghosted his fingertips over the cotton of her underwear. He stroked a little harder and she whimpered, leaning back against the wall. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, holding her weight up as her knees buckled.
Anticipation was intoxicating her, making her head feel heavy and her heart thrum. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears, feel every nerve catch alight as his fingers made contact. She's sure he can feel the cotton under his fingers dampening. If she weren't so dizzy, weren't so desperate for it, she'd be embarrassed by how hot he was getting her with such a feather light touch.
Johnathan fights the urge to kiss her again for the sake of watching her face as he pulls her panties to one side. He can't help but groan when he feels how wet she is, which makes her smirk a little, until his fingers run across the place that makes her gasp. She's lost to the world, there's only Johnathan and the fire he's started between her thighs. When he pushes a finger inside her she closes her eyes, spreads her legs a little wider.
They hear the door handle only moments before cold, white light cuts into their hot, red world. They spring apart, Johnathan turns to face the doorway, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.
"Well, what's happening in here? Spending some time with pervy boy, are you, princess?" Nicole sneers, hands on her hips.
They stare at her, no idea what she'd seen.
"I bet you were letting him screw you some more, slut." She shoots at Nancy, who's recovering from her daze quickly.
"We were just talking, Nicole. I know you end up on your knees every time you're alone with a guy, but we're not all that easy." Her voice is venom, and it's not like her to be so cutting, but Nancy is more than annoyed at the interruption.
They grab their bags and step out into the hallway while Nicole fights to think of a come back, she's not used to her prey biting back, especially Nancy.
"Whatever, whore." It's the best she can come up with as she storms past them into the darkroom, and they watch her slam the door with amusement and relief.
"Johnathan-" Nancy begins, but the bell cuts her off, and the sound of stampeding students begins. She watches in shock as he lifts his finger to his mouth and sucks it clean, smirking at her as her face turns a deeper shade of pink.
"See you, Nancy. I'm only a radio away." He lifts a hand in farewell and leaves her standing there, unable to keep a little saunter out of his step as he heads out the double doors and into the parking lot.
She watches him go, trying to untangle the mess of her thoughts. Trying not to chase after him and beg him to put his hands back where they belong. She's not sure she can face Steve now, so she avoids the parking lot where they typically meet and heads out the front doors instead. The walk home will give her time to clear her head, she hopes. Though she's not sure what she's going to do about the fire still smouldering where Johnathan's hand had been.