3. Change of heart

The day was torture. Stef tried to help her mom with various tasks, carrying on old routines in an attempt to clear her mind of the mess from yesterday. And yet her mind was racing off somewhere, trying to figure out what to do with him. Eventually she'd have to go back to her studies, her friends, and her life. This escape would end, and his bright smile would just be a dream on rainy day. The problem was she cared too much to do that to him.

Wasn't it better to back off before things got too messy?

So maybe things already were messy, maybe she was attracted to him against her better judgment; Stef acknowledged this, but couldn't quite balance the equation.

She didn't run into him though in spite of her various tasks in town, and a part of her felt bad about it, whereas another part was relieved. And with the slow creep of the hours, the evening closed in on her like a thief in the night with the solid promise that she would see him again, at her very own party. She honestly didn't know how to feel about that.

When she got her dad to drop her off at the Walsh's later that evening the air felt pregnant with anticipation. Stef had actually spent an hour going through her things, trying to decide what to wear. What would give the right message and what the hell even was the right message, she'd pondered by herself, eventually deciding on another skirt and a loose shirt to accompany it with. She picked up a cardigan to go with her outfit, worried about the chilly night. Her makeup was minimalistic, her earrings barely noticeable, but she stood tall when she walked to the door, turning around to wave her dad goodbye before bracing herself.

The restlessness in her had not resided yet; it remained beneath the surface, an electric charge that made her sensitive, more aware of her surroundings. She wanted to gnaw her lower lip like she'd used to when she'd been nervous as a kid, but adulthood had trained her to resist those impulses, those tells of being a misfit. She'd needed to fit in, become someone less noticeable.

But when the door opened and she was suddenly staring at a gentle giant, Stef forgot all about her inhibitions and stepped forward, shrieking with joy, "Sloth!"

In just seconds she was hugging him, feet barely touching the ground as he lifted her up, and crushed her happily. "Stef!" Sloth murmured, eventually putting her back down, beaming down on her with childish enthusiasm. He hadn't changed a bit.

Once he made way she saw everyone else as well, greetings and salutations melting into one as she hugged everyone in turns, speaking their names, happiness washing over her like a cloud. Mickey was first, then his brother, followed shortly by Andy again.

Stef actually cackled in surprise when she saw Chunk and a dorky smile spread across her face. He'd gotten a lot shapelier, losing some of that excess weight in the past years and now she could barely recognize him anymore. His curly hair and rascally smile remained though, and he hugged her shyly.

Data was up next, cute and forward like always, moving in to hug her from behind before she had a chance to look at him. And when she finally caught a glimpse of him, he looked so grown as well, a sleek young man instead of the scrawny kid she remembered him as. She could swear he was using hair gel nowadays, instead of just hiding his hair beneath a cap.

Stef froze for a moment when she realized the last guest was Mouth, who leaned against the doorframe, absorbing the sight of her. He didn't throw a mouthy, tetchy comment at her like usual, but he rather waited silently for his turn, indicating with a nod of his head that she ought to approach. Stef came awkwardly aware of the way everyone was looking at them, anticipating. Of course she'd known the price of talking to Andy was having everyone know what had happened, but she hadn't quite expected, well, this.

"Not gonna hug me, Stef?" Mouth asked with a challenge, knowing she wouldn't turn it down.

"I saved my favorite for last," she teased him instead, blurting the words out before she'd had a chance to think it over. Stef quickly closed the gap between them, hiding her face in his shoulder as they hugged, and then pulling back before he could react. She didn't let herself look at his face when she withdrew from the quickest hug ever and turned to the rest.

"Thanks everyone. It's really good to see you all," she beamed at him, her insecurities forgotten for now. She'd always bloomed in their presence, encouraged to be her no matter what.

Andy quickly took charge and herded them all into the living room that was filled with snacks and soft drinks. They never drank alcohol in Sloth's presence in respect of his child's mind, and gladly he'd never felt excluded even when the others had begun to spent different kind of time together, partying until the night, talking grown up stuff. Chunk made sure he was home by bedtime, and didn't have to witness their drunken stupor and stunts, ever.

There was a lot to discuss; everyone seemed to have questions and comments. The subject of the kiss was avoided with almost planned precision much to Stef's relief. She figured the guys must've given Mouth a lot of slack about it, and would sneak discreet looks over to him every now and then as if to check and see he was OK, but she averted her eyes quickly in fear of being caught. And he looked great in his flannel shirt and jeans, telling jokes and making everyone laugh. It felt like home.

Some hours, countless snacks, and many stories later Sloth was beginning to weary down and Chunk chivalrously offered to take him home. Stef stood up to hug him goodbye, promising heartily that they'd see again before she left, and he giggled at her happily.

And not two seconds after Sloth and Chunk had gone through the door when the boys were already tossing each other cans of beer, opening them in unison and toasting. Andy scoffed at them playfully, inviting Stef with her to the kitchen to fetch them some drinks too, but it was like the boys didn't see or hear them leave. One of them was painfully aware of their movements though; Mouth watched them go in silence, sipping his drink.

Andy asked her what she wanted to drink, was surprised when Stef asked for a glass of wine. "Mmmm," Andy laughed, "Expensive tastes."

"It's not like I would turn down a good old fashioned beer either," Stef winked, remembering the days they'd been minors and had snuck beer cans from their parents, drunk from such small amounts. And there'd been hell to pay, and she'd been grounded so many times, but she wouldn't have traded those experiences for anything.

Andy was able to procure her a bottle of wine though, and get it open. Stef poured herself some red wine from the bottle, inhaling its scent from the glass before she took a sip. It tasted strong at first, but the taste mellowed after awhile and it managed to relax her with just a few sips. She didn't think drinking was a smart choice in this occasion, but at the same time she didn't feel like struggling through this sober either. After a few more sips, she ceased caring altogether.

They stayed in the kitchen for awhile, gossiping a bit, reminiscing their troubled teen days. By the sounds in the living room, the boys had already cranked the old Nintendo and were playing something together, shouting instructions and curses at one another. Andy didn't want to keep Stef to herself for long though and eventually the two wandered back into the living room to observe the game marathon.

The boys were playing Bubble Bobble, eventually switching off to Rescue Rangers, Ice Climber, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and countless other games. They had played them all to the point of ad nauseam, and yet they were making bets who got through a stage the quickest, who beat who first, and whether they could distract the player from reaching their goal without actual contact (like grabbing the controller away or poking the player). Andy and Stef worked as cheerleaders rather than competitors, the boys kept moving the controllers or themselves around, depending how long the chords were and were they needed to be seated.

And so Stef found herself sitting next to Mouth on the sofa all of the sudden, as he grabbed the controller that was offered to him and moved to a better position to play. She couldn't quite pry her eyes from him once she noticed him, glad of the fact that everyone else was so immersed in the game that they didn't notice. Of course he'd done this on purpose, inching closer and closer to her through-out the evening, taking notice of the way she would glance at him every now and then. And now he was leaning over his knees, eyes focused on the game, fingers working the controller with impressive speed and precision.

Handy with his hands, she recalled her earlier contemplation.

Stef hardly paid any attention to the game everyone else was so into. She studied him: his long nose, the wheat-color hair, his wild eyebrows, and the way he smiled knowingly, almost like he was fully aware that she was looking, unable to turn away. Her fringe fell on her face, and for a short moment she felt safe in its protection, as if somehow hidden from the world. Leaning in, she inhaled sharply. Mouth tensed, feeling her breath on his cheek, her overwhelming closeness, and subsequently managed to drop his character off a cliff.

The room erupted in wild fanfare for Data, whom Mouth had been playing against, and he stood up and waved his hands in the air like an enthusiastic child. Mouth still held onto the controller lazily, head turned to Stef who'd stood up now, panicking again, running away.

"I'm getting another drink," she announced as she headed off to the kitchen in haste. The others acknowledged her departure with resigned shrugs, but Mouth looked on, confused.

Once Stef had crossed the hallway to the kitchen, she finally exhaled that guarded breath she'd kept inside, and then laid her hands on the sink and collapsed against it, placing her forehead on her hands. What the hell was she doing? A deep breath in, another one out, Stef collected herself, nearly undone.

And when she straightened herself and reached for the wine bottle, she realized Mouth had followed her into the kitchen.


Meanwhile Chunk returned to the party, making his way to the living room and greeting his friends. He sat down on the sofa that was notably spacious, and watched the duel between Mickey and Brand in Ice Climbers for awhile, until he realized the bag of chips on the table was empty.

"Looks like we need a refill," he joked, standing up and reaching for the empty bag when he was suddenly cornered by Andy and Data, both supporting alerted looks, their hands placed lightly against his back and front.

"Mouth and Stef are in the kitchen," Andy said with quiet resolve, highlighting the unspoken message.

"No one's going in there for at least 15 minutes," Data added, poking Chunk to the side until he started nodding, having understood the message.

And so Chunk sat down pliant, still holding the empty bag of chips, and only now catching the sizzling tension in the room. No one knew what happened next, and no one wanted to be the person to interrupt the post-kiss conversation they'd all been waiting for eight years.


Mouth approached her with a slouch, reminding her of the kid he'd been. He was somewhat inebriated, but coherent still, and his slow approach made her feel inexplicably vacillating, downright flighty. It was as if he had purloined her sense and run off with it laughing, never intending to return it. Stef was now facing him, leaned against the counter, giving him her full attention.

He stopped near her, not quite in her personal space, but not too far from that either. They were the same height now, on equal footing. She became enlivened in his presence, almost like someone else entirely.

"What do you want, Mouth?" she asked innocently. "Came for another beer?"

He shook his head gravely, asking instead, "What are you doing Stef?"

He was serious; puzzled by the way she pulled away and then moved in on him again, as if unable to make up her mind.

"I don't know," she confessed with a vulnerable frown, shivers running down her spine all of the sudden, as if she was caught in a cool draught. "I don't even know you anymore."

He seemed to relax with that statement. "I'm the same guy. Cars, cable, older women, all things I like."

Mouth really was this maverick rebel in his eyes, always doing what he wanted, taking what he wanted. The way he'd just come onto her yesterday and how she'd let him, it didn't sit with the image of them as two kids standing on that beach, believing in miracles.

He raised his hand slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull back, to whisper objections. Stef remained still though, let him touch her, and so he planted his hand on her cheek, let it advance to her hair, those cankerous blonde curls he loved. Mouth moved closer. He was so patient, so aware. And yet he too was driven by the intense chemistry he felt here, by the joy of being near her.

Stef let him kiss her again, eyes closing almost instantly, her senses flooded with his closeness. He pressed her against the counter harder, hips grinding against hers, hands cupping her cheeks and caressing the skin beneath his thumbs. It was slower than before, but even better. Stef shuddered with pleasure, moaning a bit, suddenly alerted by the discomfort of her position and the awkward truth that they were supposed to be spending time with their friends instead of making out in the kitchen like two teens.

Mouth groaned in frustration when he felt her hands push against his chest, another rejection becoming apparent. "Not here, Mouth," she hissed, quickly dispelling his worry.

"Where then?" he grinned back at her and leaned closer against despite her attempt to keep him at an arm's length. He pecked her lips, merely amused when she slipped away from him, trying to straighten her clothes.

She wiped her mouth on her hand, trying to think, anything really, but nothing came to mind. Instead she looked back at him, clearly agitated with such little contact. "I'm a mess, Mouth," she tried to tell him, to appeal to him.

"Well you're my kinda mess, Stef," he just stated, like her words were nothing.

"Stupid," she mumbled, retreating further, almost writhing as her clothes felt too tight and the air was too thick. Stef rolled her shoulders to ease the tension, but it was lodged deep in her, a secret fire only he could calm down.

"Yeah you are," he told her, voice void of malice, but face full of challenge.

"At least I'm not the freaking town bicycle," she snapped, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. Even with the spark in place she never just jumped into things, and with him it was like she was spinning out of the control, faster and faster.

"Yeah, well I know how to have a good time. It's hardly a sin," he countered, taking small offense at her comment, even when he knew he was pushing her. And then, speaking more suggestively, he whispered his request, "Name a place, Stef."

She didn't respond, just held back, insecurity gnawing at her insides.

"Pick a place, Stef," he continued, knowing how much she hated it when he teased her by repeating his words again and again He'd played it on her so many times, repeating something until she was yelling at him, all crazy.

"God damnit, Mouth, stop doing that," her growl was angry, almost primal. It only excited him more.

"Afraid you can't control yourself?"

"You know I can't."

"Stop fighting it then," he suggested almost gently, while Stef looked back at him with unsure eyes.

"Pick a place Stef," he urged her again.

"I'm fresh out of sleazy corners for screwing."

He liked it how she said 'screw' with such passion, such attitude. Back in the day she'd been the one to teach him how to swear, always chewing a cigarette and cussing. He'd listened to her with strange awe, thinking he might ignite with a few more words, wondering if she'd utter them during sex.

"Fine then. My place," he decided for her, surprising her with his announcement.

"You have a place?" Stef wondered aloud, somehow having assumed he was still living with his parents like the rest.

"It's new," Mouth explained, feeling no need to further explain how he'd simply needed a place of his own, somewhere to bring girls, somewhere to strum a guitar till midnight, somewhere to have beer for breakfast. But the best part was, as he put it, "And it's private."

"I can't," she quickly reacted, shaking her head.

"You won't, there's a difference," he told her observantly, running his thumb on the lid of a beer can he'd picked up a moment ago. He opened it a few seconds later, breaking the silence with the sound, moving the can to his lips afterwards. She wasn't looking at him then, contemplating his words instead.

"What's the matter Stef? Chicken?" he dared her.

"No."

"So why are you scared of me all of the sudden? You never used to be."

Still holding the can, Mouth actually moved a bit further now, checking the corridor that connected the kitchen and the living room. The door was ajar, but they'd been enjoying almost serendipitous time alone for awhile now.

"You were a head shorter than me," she responded smugly, recalling how she'd been the boss, always; Funny how he seemed to be the one in charge nowadays.

"You're not afraid of my head, are you?" he joked.

"It's included in my list of potential threats… Among other things."

At this, he raised a brow, genuinely puzzled. Was she flirting again? His eyes met with the floor; there was a clenching feeling in his chest. "Say you'll come," he beckoned her.

"Maybe," Stef said, feeling his pull again.

"You're coming."

He looked straight at her now, confidence shining through bright. And she damn well knew she was. Her protests were meaningless.

Feeling defeat sting her, Stef remained quiet and settled to pour herself some more wine. And he surprisingly let her be, leaving the room while she was pouring, at least attempting to maintain the illusion that they weren't arranging trysts in shady closets, no matter how much appeal the idea had to him.

For a moment there Stef just watched the wine swirl into the glass, red as blood. She waited for its surface to calm down, and took a sip, stalling because she didn't want to enter the room just yet. He'd agitated her, and she needed to cool down desperately, to gain control over herself. With little effort the heat between her legs began to cool, the drumming of her heart fade, and she stayed like this for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude.


By the time she returned to the living room the guys had started up their barbeque project and Andy and Mouth were chopping veggies on a table outside while Data and Chuck were meddling with grill. Brand and Mickey dug up plates and meat (plenty of meat) while listening to Data as he explained how he'd made special adjustments the grill and that they would have the best barbeque ever.

Stef offered to help, but her offer was rejected on the basis that she was the guest of honor. She scoffed at them, sitting on a lawn chair, making herself comfortable, but she didn't mind the peace not-so-secretly. Instead she simply lay back, relaxing. Mickey arrived to chat to her, leaning his hands on the back rest of her chair and jerking it a bit for fun. She stuttered lame insults at him with a wink, like it was ten years ago.

Ten minutes later Data had successfully burned off his eyebrows, set the lawn on fire, and they were left in the backyard with blank expressions, watching the smoking grill.

Stef had actually managed to jerk too quickly and knock the chair over, which had left her lying on the grass, catching her breath. And while Mickey was arguing with Data, clearly pressed about this experiment, Mouth appeared over Stef, offering her his hand and helping her up. Andy smiled at this discreetly, pointing out the event to Brand wordlessly.

"You OK?" Mouth asked her, once again way too close, his fingers holding onto her forearms sternly, face hovering near hers, investigating the damage.

"Yeah, just startled," she responded weakly.

He let her go before she could pull back, and it surprised her, but Mouth was confident in the knowledge he'd trapped her with his invitation, so he could back up, could give her a breather. And just like that he walked back to the guys, commending them on their superb barbeque skills, and starting a playful tussle as they all started getting a bit too worked up over the fire.

Andy appeared next to Stef, sighing, "Good thing we can heat the sausages in the microwave."


People started creeping out of the house when it got closer to midnight, and by one am it was just Mickey, Stef and Mouth. Stef was admittedly a bit tipsy at this point, amused the fact that Mickey had promised to borrow his bicycle so she could ride to her parents' house. Mouth was watching the developments in this with great interest, sitting in the swing outside as Mickey walked the bicycle to her, and she accepted it, giggling tenaciously.

She didn't get on it the first try, or the second, or even when Mickey tried to help her on it. Mouth was quick to announce that there was plenty of room for her on the couch next to him, but she simply stuck out her tongue at him defiantly, announcing she'd sleep in her own damn bed. He thought it was hilarious.

So when Mickey gave up, already sure she wouldn't be able to get anywhere tonight, Stef suddenly felt a different pair of hands on her waist, steadying her. She stopped giggling and put on a more serious front, clearing her throat and focusing. The next moment she was sitting on the saddle, held straight by Mouth. Mickey was clapping sarcastically at a small distance, but her smile was proud and bright.

"You're coming over tomorrow," Mouth told her, his voice but a deep, raunchy whisper. It made her heart jump to her throat.

"Uh huh," she settled to say, and feeling his grip falter, she launched herself into motion, shrieking with joy as she descended the small hill their house was on, and sped to the road.

"Night guys!" she yelled at them, embracing the night breeze, fast on her way home, her heart light.

Mouth watched her go, his heart fluttering at the sight of her skirt rising when she began to pedal, and turned to Mickey next. "I might have another, um, restless night ahead," he said in a spell of honesty.

And Mickey, in perfect understanding with this, put his hand across Mouth's shoulders and started walking them back inside.

"You just wait for the day when I pass out on your couch, and you have to listen to my sex dreams."

TBC