Rating: M
Chapter 11 - Mrs Americana
The whole school is rolling fake dice
You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes
It's you and me
There's nothing like this
On Sunday morning, Joyce skips down the driveway and begins her walk to the library. The sun was shining, she had plans to work on a new essay and she was meeting her boyfriend.
Her boyfriend.
Jim Hopper. Her boyfriend.
Because she was dating Jim Hopper.
While nothing had changed, nothing was the same. They had been together for just over a month and she'd never been happier.
She can't remember why she was ever hesitant about dating Hopper. The two of them connected on an entirely different level and now that they were romantically involved their connection felt unbreakable. They were taking things slowly yet each kiss was an absolute rush and the way she was falling was anything but slow.
He drove her home from school every day now that football was over for the season. They sat together and did homework before he had to be home for dinner, or she joined his family for a home-cooked meal. Hopper's parents had always been incredibly kind to Joyce. Now that she was dating their son they often extended invitations to family dinners and insisted that Joyce was welcome at the house any time.
When they weren't studying side-by-side, stealing not-so-subtle glances of one another, they found other ways to keep busy. Most of their weekends were spent out at the lake or at the diner where they shared a milkshake and Hopper would whine about Joyce hogging it.
Last night, Hopper surprised her by packing a picnic basket and laying out a blanket at the lake. They spent hours laying, looking up at the stars - talking about nothing and everything.
Smiling, Joyce arrives at the library and finds Hopper waiting for her out front.
"You could have let me pick you up," he calls out to her as she approaches.
"Aren't you sick of me yet?"
"As if I could ever be sick of you."
"I wanted to walk," she informs him.
He tosses an arm around her shoulder and the two of them enter the library. Claiming Joyce's usual table, Hopper takes the seat next to Joyce and pulls his chair closer.
She chuckles beneath her breath and rolls her eyes at him. "How are you supposed to work from this close to me?"
"I was planning on watching you work."
"That's not homework. You said we would do homework."
" You are going to do homework," he says.
"And what are you going to do?"
"Watch you?"
"NO!" She smacks his arm. "That's distracting! Last night I agreed to stay out later because you promised we would get work done today."
"Fine. But I'm still going to watch you work."
"Why?"
"I like watching you work."
"How is that not boring?"
"You have the cutest little face when you focus."
"I'm not cute when I study."
"You're always cute."
"You're such a sap… Have you always been this way?"
"Yes."
"Really? Because I recall you once telling me that you didn't have a romantic bone in your body."
"What can I say? You bring it out in me."
"Open your textbook," she orders.
Reluctantly, he leans back in his chair and flips open his textbook with a heavy sigh. He pretends to read a few lines while watching her crack open her own book from the corners of his eyes.
A few moments later, she catches him staring and scolds him.
"Hop! You better not be thinking about how cute I look!"
"I wasn't," he lies. "I was thinking about chemistry."
"The kind in the science book, right?"
"Is there another kind?" he asks with a devilish grin.
"You're relentless," she shakes her head. She leans over and places a quick peck on his lips before reclaiming her seat and immediately dipping her nose back into her book.
Like a child who was just given candy, Hopper beams with pride and returns to his own reading, pausing every now and then to look over and admire her.
Secretly, she loved the way he watched her work. The weight that Joyce carried around, the nagging thought that whispered "you'll never be enough" over and over again had been silenced. He made her feel like what she said mattered. When Hopper listened to her talk, he focused on her like she was the only other person on the planet. Maybe he'd always done it, but she was only now noticing the way he looked at her eliminated every nagging, self-loathing thought she had about herself. Being in his presence, she felt safe and important; she felt like she mattered.
It was in these moments, the ones where he insisted on watching her go about life in the way she did every day, that she realized how fickle life was. She didn't need to matter to everyone to feel like someone. Hopper was teaching her that without realizing he was doing so.
The way he looked at her, eyes wide and eager; the way he encouraged her thoughts and wasn't afraid to disagree with her was giving her an entirely new perspective on life and relationships.
Growing up, Joyce assumed that love was difficult. That one had to do things they otherwise wouldn't in the name of love. That, much like her parents' broken relationship, all human relationships were doomed to cycles of unpleasant habits and self-abandonment. But that simply wasn't true.
All the relationships she'd known had been flawed. All except one. Or so she thought. Hopper asked her about Josie and opened her eyes to the fact that in a short period of time, the girl had forged a meaningful relationship with Joyce and she was someone that Joyce could count on. Of course, Hopper himself showed her that romantic relationships didn't have to be intimidating. They were taking things one step at a time to ease her into things and she was discovering that needing someone wasn't the horrible thing she once thought it was.
It felt good to let herself need him.
It felt good to be needed by him.
In a strange sense, Joyce felt as though she could feel herself maturing through their relationship. He was showing her sides of herself she never knew existed, pushing her to be the best version of herself and for the first time in her life, she isn't afraid to need someone.
They study for another hour before Hopper's restlessness becomes too much and he convinces Joyce to go for an afternoon drive.
The pair stop at the diner, where Joyce runs in and picks up two sodas for their drive. Ever since Hopper got his license, they'd spent countless summer afternoons driving around the abandoned streets on the outskirts of Hawkins, enjoying the sunshine and each other's company.
Hopper waits in the car while Joyce pays the man at the counter for their order, trying to ignore the snickers she hears coming from a tale of seniors behind her. Ever since she and Hopper got together, Chrissy had been relentlessly whispering about her in the school halls, no doubt spreading rumours about her. She did her best to ignore the whispers and lingering glances from Chrissy's friends. Normally, she would tell Chrissy off but the summer was fast approaching and she couldn't be bothered getting swept up in the petty, unimportant drama.
She was with Hopper and none of the rest mattered. Let the town talk. Let the rumours run wild. She was happy and she didn't care what anyone had to say about it. In her eyes, the only people who had any right to critique or discuss her relationship with Hopper were her and Hopper.
Stuffing her change in her pocket, she grabs the drinks off the counter, flashes a fake smile at the table of giggling girls and exits the diner.
.
.
Tuesday night Hopper manages to convince Joyce to join him for a movie at the drive-in. As he's getting ready to leave the house his dad stops him. "Where are you headed so late?"
"I'm taking Joyce to the drive-in."
"Ahhh that drive-in. One of the first dates I took your mother on was at a drive-in," his father smiles at the memory.
"Really?"
"Really. She loved it. Have a good time son. Make sure Joyce gets home safely."
Initially hesitant, Joyce is surprised to discover how excited she is when she spots his car pulling into the driveway to pick her up. Her parents were both out for the night so she grabs her bag, tosses her jacket over her arm and heads out through the front door.
"Front door today?" he grins as she hops into the passenger seat.
"No one was home so I figured why not."
"Quite the rebel," he teases.
"Says the one who suggested we go to a movie on a school night."
"School is practically over, why not live a little. Besides," he smirks, "the drive-in is much more fun than the theatre."
Joyce shivers at what his statement implies and fastens her seatbelt. She'd never been to the drive-in theatre before. Located a town over, the drive-in theatre became a popular date spot amongst Joyce's classmates who had cars. She'd heard her fair share of locker room gossip about what usually happened.
In her haste and uncertainty about their last-minute plans, she hadn't given herself time to be nervous about what being here with Hopper might mean.
"What movie are we seeing?" she asks.
"You'll see."
Nervously, she fidgets with her hands in her lap and stares out the window.
Observing her nerves fidgeting, Hopper takes one hand off the wheel and reaches over to take her hand.
"Hey," he says softly. "What's wrong?"
She considers lying but something about the way he's looking at her pushes her to tell him the truth.
"I've never been to the drive-in," she admits.
"I know," he grins. "That's why I wanted to take you. I think you'll love it!"
"But I've heard about what usually … happens… at the drive-in."
Hopper's face pales when he realizes what she's implying.
"Jesus Joyce- that's not … that's not why I asked you to go I just …" Flustered, he releases her hand and drags his fingers through his hair. "It's not that I don't want to. Jesus I want to, I've thought about it a lot but I wasn't trying to imply that tonight we should…"
For some reason, his flustered reaction calms her and a smile settles across her lips. With an amused expression, she looks over at him. "Hop?"
"Yeah?" he answers, relieved she interrupted his pointless rambling.
"Stop trying to explain. I believe you."
"Alright, good. I wouldn't want you thinking I'm expecting anything. I just really like the drive-in and I wanted to be the first one to take you."
Reaching across the car cabin for his hand, she pulls it back into her lap and interlocks their fingers. "Sorry," she says softly. "I didn't mean to imply that I thought you were expecting anything."
"You have nothing to apologize for."
It was a strange relief to hear that he hadn't invited her to the movie expecting something to happen between them. Not that she believed he was the type of guy to do such a thing, she just knew he'd slept with past girlfriends and she hadn't ever slept with anyone. She'd come close a few times but it hadn't happened for her yet. As foolish as her peers may find it, she wanted her first time to be special.
While she and Hopper had yet to sleep together they'd come close a few times. She wasn't opposed, she wanted to be with him physically. Their intimate connection was unlike anything she'd ever experienced and she was certain when the moment felt right she wanted him to be her first.
"You've thought about us… being together ?" she asks shyly.
"Is that okay?" he blushes.
"Yes. I've thought about it too," she admits.
He squeezes her hand and then releases it to roll down the window and pay the attendant at the gate they've pulled up to. Once past it, he backs the car in next to a speaker and cuts the engine.
Joyce follows Hopper around the back of the car and watches with silent amusement as he pops open the trunk. She's surprised to find the inside lined with pillows and a few blankets.
"What do you think? Will this do?"
"It's perfect," she beams.
"Come on, let's go and grab some popcorn before it starts."
Taking his hand she follows his lead to the snack bar where they order two bags of popcorn. Hopper holds the snacks while she gets comfortable in the back of the car and then climbs in next to her, passing her a bag of popcorn.
He slings one arm over her shoulder and pulls the blanket up over their laps as the movie begins. Midway through it, she puts her popcorn aside and drops her head to his shoulder. He mirrors her action, placing the half-full bag of popcorn beside him to pull her closer to his side.
When she nestles into his neck he leans down and places a kiss on the top of her head.
In response, Joyce tilts her head up and steals a kiss. One stolen kiss quickly becomes two, two become three and three becomes tangled tongues and roaming hands.
Joyce's hands roam across Hopper's chest as she turns to face him. His hands their place holding her hips and he tugs her towards him. She whimpers into his mouth when one of his thumbs brushes a bit of exposed skin between her t-shirt and jeans. Unsure, he pulls back and looks at her in question. She nods, giving him silent permission and then tugs him forward and deepens their kiss. Joyce moves her attention to his jawline, peppering it with kisses while he allows one hand to settle on her side beneath her shirt.
She inhales sharply when she feels his calloused thumb move up her side and sucks on his pulse point. Hopper's hand slowly makes its way up her body until it settles over her bra and his thumb runs along the edge of it delicately.
"I'm not going to break," she whispers into his ear.
He hoists her into his lap so that she is positioned between him and the movie screen and cups her breast over her shirt with both hands while she leans down to kiss him.
His hands continue to explore her body over her t-shirt and their jeans clash when she grinds further into his lap with each kiss.
"Joyce," he whispers against her lips.
"Yes?"
"I thought you wanted to see how the movie ended?"
"Mhmm."
Neither of them catches the end of the movie, instead, they spend time exploring one another and making out in the back of Hopper's car.
After fixing her post-make-out hair, Joyce helps Hopper pack up the car when the movie ends and they drive back to Hawkins with his hand on her knee.
"So, how was your first drive-in experience?"
"It was perfect," she smiles.
"Perfect? Damn, I might have set the bar too high for future dates."
"Hop, we could hang out and do absolutely nothing and I would still enjoy it."
"Alright, it's settled from now on we do absolutely nothing."
She laughs and playfully rolls her eyes in his direction. 'You're ridiculous."
"And yet you're dating me for some strange reason."
Hearing him say the words "you're dating me" sends an excited shiver down her spine and she beams. "I like spending time with you, that's why I'm dating you."
"Is that all?"
"You're a decent kisser," she chuckles.
"Decent?! I'm an incredible kisser. You take that back right now Horowitz."
"Guess you're just going to have to prove me wrong," she flirts.
Without warning, he swerves and pulls the car to an abrupt stop on the side of the long country road that leads back to Hawkins. He leans over and kisses her, gently tugging on her lower lip before promptly returning to his seat and continuing to drive while she's left speechless.
"Decent-ish," she mumbles beneath her breath.
"Yeah, that's why you're all tongue-tied."
"I am not!"
"You are. It's cute."
"I hate you," she laughs.
"You don't."
"I don't think I ever could," she admits.
"Good. It would break me if you ever did."
He drops Joyce off and waits until she's safely inside, before returning home in a great mood. He's surprised to find his dad waiting up for him in the living room and quietly waves over to him as he comes in.
"Hey son, how was the movie?"
"It was good."
"How did it end?"
"I don't remember," Hopper shrugs.
"That's my boy."
.
.
"Hey, what are you doing after this?" Benny asks Hopper in the locker room after practice.
"I'm not sure. Joyce is waiting for me."
"Do you two wanna join a few of us at the diner?"
"I'll ask her," Hopper says. "What?" He adds when Benny smirks.
"Nothing," Benny lies. "You guys are a good couple."
"You think?"
"I've always thought you'd make a good couple. You two are the morons that took forever to realize that you should be together."
The pair exit the locker room and make their way to the parking lot where Joyce is leaning against Hopper's car waiting.
"Hey," Hopper smiles, greeting her with a kiss on the cheek.
Joyce blushes and leans into his touch, "Hey Benny."
"Hey, Joyce. Do you two want to join us at the diner?"
"Hop?" she looks up at him.
"Up to you," he tells her.
"Why not?" she smiles. "Can I drive?"
"Fine," he nods. He holds the keys above her head and laughs as he pulls them away when she tries to reach for them. She moves for them a second time, caging his body between the car and hers while she jumps and just barely grabs the keys.
"Ha!" she boasts.
"Do you need a ride, Benny?" Joyce asks.
"I'd say no if you want to make it there in one piece," Hopper warns him.
"Hey! I'm a great driver."
"Are you?"
"Yes. I had a great teacher," she flirts, allowing her hand to settle on his chest.
"As much as I'd love to third wheel this ," Benny gestures between them, "I'll meet you guys there."
Stealing a kiss, Joyce twirls around Hopper to the driver's side door and climbs in with a victorious smile.
They stroll into the diner with Hopper's arm draped over Joyce's shoulder and find Benny and a few of his friends sitting at a table near the window.
"Did you two get lost? You left before me," Benny jokes.
"We got … distracted," Hopper admits with flushed cheeks. He slides into the booth next to Joyce who greets Benny's girlfriend, Helen who she'd recently become friends.
The group orders; Hopper and Joyce both request a large chocolate milkshake and exchange smirks.
"So, what are everyone's summer plans?" Benny asks.
"I'm spending a few weeks visiting my aunt on the West coast," Helen informs them.
"Yeah, she's leaving me for two whole weeks," Benny pouts.
"What about you Joyce?" Helen asks.
"Honestly, I haven't really thought about it much. I've just been focusing on finishing up exams."
"I'm sure you'll find something exciting," Helen smiles. "What about you Jim?"
"Just spending time with my girl here," he smiles, arm falling around Joyce's shoulder. He gives her a small squeeze and leans down to place a kiss in her hair. Joyce jokingly rolls her eyes at his ridiculous display of PDA, but her insides are fluttering. My girl.
"Oh god ," Benny groans. "Are you two going to be this obnoxiously cute all summer?"
"Hmmm," Hopper strokes his chin, then leans down and gives Joyce a short peck on the lips, "probably."
"Helen change of plans, I'm coming with you."
Everyone laughs and Hopper pulls Joyce in a bit closer when she reaches up and takes the hand that's laying over her shoulder. She strokes the back of his palm with her thumb and leans into his touch.
The group discusses potential plans for their senior year, Hopper and Benny were both hoping to be scouted this season while Joyce was planning on applying to several colleges and Helen planned on getting a job at the sewing shop her mother worked at.
Josie comes in to pick up an order and briefly stops by the table to talk to Joyce. After getting together with Hopper, she filled Josie in on all the details and the two made plans to hang out by the lake once school let out. Her friendship with Josie, as surprising as it was, was the one good thing to come out of her near fall-out with Hopper.
When Josie excuses herself, Joyce moves the straw from her empty glass to Hopper's half-full milkshake.
"What are you doing?"
"Sharing?" she smiles innocently.
"No way! This one is mine. If you want more I'll order you another one."
"I don't want another one."
"Then why is your straw in my drink?"
"I just wanted a little bit of yours."
"That's not how this works."
"We're dating now. That's totally how this works," she reminds him.
Benny watches with amusement as the two bicker back and forth. It was refreshing to see that while they'd become the type of couple that couldn't seem to keep their hands to themselves, they were still the Hopper and Joyce he'd known for years.
"Is that so?" he cocks his eyebrows.
"It's so," she replies smugly, leaning forward to take a large sip of his drink.
"I think Helen and I are going to get going," Benny announces. "We'll leave you two to this lover's quarrel."
"It's not a lover's quarrel," Hopper snaps.
"Right," Benny laughs. He and Helen slip out of the booth and he leads her to the door.
"Lover's quarrel," Joyce chuckles to herself, "what a strange phrase."
"Agreed," Hopper nods, snatching his milkshake back.
One look at the pout on Joyce's lips and the wide-eyed look she's gazing at him with and he resigns, placing the glass back on the table between them with a sigh. "Fine. But I'm only sharing this time."
.
.
Propping her elbows up on the kitchen counter, Joyce watches as Hopper attempts to flip grilled cheese sandwiches without having them fall apart.
"Alright, we're headed out," Mrs. Hopper announces as she enters the room. "Jim try not to burn the house down."
"Woah! I'm an excellent cook!"
"I don't know, you've been struggling to flip that for a long time," Joyce giggles.
"He didn't put enough butter and now it's stuck to the pan, isn't it?" his mom asks Joyce.
"Yes, but he's too stubborn to admit that he messed up."
"Men, they're all the same. Take note dear, if you ever want something done right you've got to do it yourself."
"Hey! I don't like you two teaming up on me," Hopper whines.
"Looks like we're going to have to team up more often," Mrs. Hopper smiles at Joyce.
"I'd like that," Joyce smiles.
While she'd known Hopper's parents for years, she'd never spent as much time with them as she had over the past few weeks. Joyce had to admit, she was envious of how supportive his parents were. They sat down for family dinners every night at 6 pm and they were always asking Hopper how his day at school was. It was completely different from what she grew up experiencing.
His parents had always been nice to her, but now that she was dating their son they went above and beyond to ensure she always felt welcome.
"Is that my wife I hear in the kitchen?" Mr. Hopper calls down.
"We're in here!" she replies. "Just lecturing Jim about making sure he turns the stove off when he's done."
"Good idea. Don't burn the house down, son."
"I'll do what I can," Hopper smiles.
"Now, if you two don't mind, I have to get my beautiful wife here for dinner. You make sure that Joyce here gets home safely later, alright?"
"Yes sir," Hopper nods.
"Have a nice night," Joyce smiles as the Hoppers head out hand in hand.
Once the front door closes, Joyce looks over at Hopper and smiles.
"I like your parents."
"That's good because they like you too."
"Are you sure? I mean I know how much they liked Chrissy and I-"
"Hey," he says softly, reaching for her hand over the counter, "stop. They love you."
"Okay," she smiles.
"Now, what do you say we take these sandwiches into the living room and watch a movie while we eat?"
"That sounds nice."
They settle down on the sofa in the Hopper's living room and eat their meal while chatting about what they want to watch. In the end, Joyce's choice wins and she happily cuddles into Hopper's side while it begins to play.
Snuggled into his side, she wraps one knee around his center and drops her head onto his shoulder. Hopper places one hand on her head and strokes his fingers through her hair.
Looking down at her through lust-filled eyes he whispers, "I want to do this forever."
"Play with my hair?" she jokes.
"Be here with you."
"Sap," she whispers.
"I prefer to be called a romantic."
"It's strange for me, seeing this side of you," she admits.
"What do you mean?"
"I just never pictured you as the romantic type."
"Because we weren't romantically involved," he says, bopping her on the nose.
She crinkles her nose in response and retaliates by sticking her tongue out at him.
"Still. You never seemed to be like this with other girls."
"You're not like other girls."
"You're right. I'm better."
"I like your confidence."
"I like you," she smirks.
"Gosh listen to us. We're so lame. "
"Maybe dating has made us go soft," she laughs, clutching onto him a bit tighter. "Or maybe not." She cocks her eyebrow at him when she brushes against the strain in his jeans.
Blushing, he shifts beneath her weight and mumbles something about it not being his fault that he was so attracted to her.
Joyce shifts so that she's straddling his lap and smirks down at him. Leaning in, she captures his lips with her own and allows her hands to slowly roll down his chest. Clothed bodies rubbing together, Joyce kisses her way down his neck, pausing when she reaches the collar of his shirt.
Hopper's hands greedily roam up Joyce's back, clutching her against him. He uses his thumb to angle her chin up towards him and eagerly kisses her. His tongue slips past her lower lip and plunges into her mouth, an action that elicits a soft whimper from Joyce. She rocks forward, supporting her weight on her knees while she deepens their kiss. Tossing her hair back, she moves to kiss along his jawline when the clock behind them catches her eye.
"Damn it, is that the time?" Joyce squeaks. "I should get home."
"Or you could stay?" he asks hopefully.
"I want to, but I shouldn't."
"You're right. Come on, I'll drive you."
The ride back to Joyce's house is quiet, neither of them quite ready to say goodbye for the night. When they arrive, Joyce slowly unbuckles her seatbelt and turns towards Hopper.
"Do you want me to walk you to the door?" he asks.
"I've got it from here," she smiles. She leans across the cabin of the car and kisses his cheek.
"Goodnight, Hop."
"Goodnight Joyce," he says as she walks away.
.
.
Joyce skips up the stairs to her bedroom and slips out of her jeans and t-shirt into an oversized shirt she'd "borrowed" from Hopper a few days before. She crawls into bed and slips beneath the covers, hands resting behind her head with a happy sigh. They only said goodbye a few moments ago and she already missed him.
Tonight, she'd grown certain of two things. First, that Hopper was the greatest thing in her life and second, she was willing to go all the way with him. She discovered that she was disappointed things stopped where they had and after giving it a lot of thought over the past few weeks she knows that she's ready.
She considered telling him but she wanted the moment to just happen. It needed to be spontaneous and just feel right. Closing her eyes, she imagines the feel of his hands on her body and she shutters.
Thwack.
Her eyes fly open and she looks around her darkened room. It's empty, save for a few stuffed animals sitting on her dresser and the art that lined her walls. Unsure, she pulls the purple and white striped comforter closer and once again closes her eyes.
Thwack.
Her feet are on the floor in an instant and she makes a beeline for the light switch. Once illuminated, she looks around her room for the source of the noise but doesn't find the culprit.
Thwack. Thwack.
Suddenly, she notices that the sound is coming from outside. Slowly, she moves over to the window beside her bed and peers outside. Hopper is standing beneath her window, lobbing pebbles at it.
With the shake of her head, Joyce opens the window and calls out to him, "What the hell are you doing?"
"I wasn't ready to say goodbye," he replies.
"Well," she smirks, "are you coming up here or are you just going to throw rocks at my window all night?"
He wastes no time climbing the trellis along the side of the house, crossing the roof the way he'd seen Joyce do it countless times until he's at her window and shimmying his way inside.
"Couldn't stay away?" she teases him as he crawls through the window.
"Can you blame me?"
Once he finally manages to wedge himself through the window, he stumbles forward and catches himself near the edge of her bed. He looks up at her with a dopey smile and shakes his head. "Nice shirt."
"I wasn't expecting any visitors," she informs him sarcastically, folding her arms across her chest and pacing the length of her bed.
"It looks good on you. You should keep it."
"I was already planning on it," she laughs.
He looks around her room; her drawings plastered over the walls, the plushie he won at the fair for her, a handful of school photos and a mess of clothes. "I'm not going to get you in trouble for being here this late, am I?"
"Nah, I'm pretty sure my dad passed out in his chair. The usual," she huffs.
"Joyce," he says softly, reaching for one of her hands.
She turns to face him, giving in to his touch and she wordlessly squeezes his palm. "I know," she nods.
"Will you stay awhile?" she adds.
Nodding, he pulls her by the hand towards him and she crawls onto her bed and sits next to him. Silently, he shifts and lays against the mattress and wraps his arms around her center while nuzzling his head into the crock of her shoulder.
They stay in the same position for a while, his chest rising and falling in time with hers. She shifts against him a few times, moving closer until her back is pressed as close to him as the clothing between them will allow.
Joyce flips around so that she's facing Hopper and steals a kiss. With his arms still wrapped snugly around her waist, he tugs her closer. He kisses her then. Slowly at first, then with eagerness she can feel in her toes.
She hums into the kiss, every nerve ending in her body responding to his touch. He runs his hands up her back, his fingers greedily roaming amongst the cotton fabric.
When they part for air, Joyce sits up and raises her arms to help him remove his shirt. She tosses it to the side and watches as his jaw falls open slightly and he takes in her naked frame. There's no bra standing in his way, so he hesitantly reaches out and cups her breasts in his hands as he kisses along her jawline. With each touch, she craves more of him.
In a haste, she reaches for the hem of his shirt and impatiently sits back and watches while it joins hers on the floor. He returns his attention to her lips, their seated position causing her breasts to brush against his bare chest when she leans into the kiss. Things escalate quickly. Hopper takes her breasts in his hands before kissing down the center of her chest. With each kiss, she grinds down against his lap, the satin of her panties meeting the cotton of his boxers.
She places both hands on his shoulders, pushing him back against the mattress before climbing over him and straddling his lap. She looks down at him, a knowing grin settling over her face as she reaches his belt buckle.
She tugs at the latch, undoing it and pulling the leather band from the loops. Once the belt is gone, she reaches for the button and pulls down the zipper. He raises his hips and helps her by shimmying out of his jeans, another item added to the pile on the floor.
With a devious smirk, Joyce reaches for the waistband of his boxers with two fingers. Hooking them inside the elastic, she frees him of the fabric in one swift motion and sits back to take him in his entirety.
He stares back at her with wide eyes, gulping visibly. She has a look in her eyes that tells him exactly what her intentions are. He'd be lying if he said he was excited. He'd been thinking about this moment for far longer than he cared to admit.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," she nods, biting her lip, "I'm sure."
Hopper hooks his arms around her thighs and flips them over, hovering over her body that is now only concealed by her panties. Propped up on his elbows, he leans down and places an open-mouthed kiss on her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. He sucks on her lips, the friction between their bare upper bodies causing his skin to burn with a sensation that is so powerful it is almost unbearable.
Her hands trail from his shoulders down his back, digging into his skin as he nips on a spot above her collarbone. His movements are slow and deliberate, while hers are rash and urgent. She finds herself fascinated by what incredible shape he's in.
Joyce leans over and kisses him, her left hand wrapping itself around his hardened length. She pumps her hand up and down a few times; Slowly, then with more purpose. He bites on his lower lip while she continues to stroke him, then reaches down and hooks his thumb in the waistband of her panties.
"Yeah?"
She nods, releasing her grip on him to help him to remove the last of her undergarments. He smiles at her softly, running the back of his palm across her cheek, an action that makes her shiver. He allows himself to put some of his weight on her, their naked chests colliding once again. He kisses her, flicking his tongue into her mouth in a manner that causes her to whimper.
Her hands find their place on his back again, her legs parted so that his legs can be placed between hers. As he moves upwards to deepen the kiss, the head of his cock brushes against her center and she bucks beneath him. He presses himself against her harder, their kiss becoming sloppy as their bodies grind against one another.
His cock rubs against her clit and she groans into his mouth. Her hair, drenched in sweat, is plastered across her shoulders but he manages to drag a hand through it.
"Hop," she whispers. "Do you have a condom?"
"I- I don't actually," he sighs. "I didn't think…"
"It's okay," she reassures him, kissing him before he can apologize like she knows he's about to.
He tumbles over her, pulling her sideways all the while never breaking their kiss even while she giggles at the swiftness of his action. They're laying side by side now, legs a tangled mess. He runs his hand lazily down her side from her shoulder to her hip and moves to kissing her neck. She slips one leg between his and his hardness brushes against her bundle of nerves, this time repeatedly rubbing against it.
She leans up and gently tugs on his ear lobe, causing his entire body to shutter.
"Damn it," he hisses, "I can't believe I didn't bring a condom. It's just, we've never talked about this and I didn't want to assume."
She flashes him an amused smirk and she leans back to look him in the eye before she speaks.
"I know we've never really talked about it, but it just feels right. Doesn't it?"
"It does," he smiles. "Wait!" he exclaims, jumping up and reaching for his discarded jeans. He grabs his wallet from the back pocket and holds up a small tin square in triumph.
"Bingo," he smirks, flicking the package between his fingers.
She checks him out as he walks back, the muscles of an athlete drawing her focus to his upper arms. She notices he's still hard and she gulps.
He pauses at the edge of the bed and studies her face. "If anything is uncomfortable, promise you'll tell me?"
"I promise," she smiles, "Now, get yourself back over here."
He rips open the condom and slides it over his erect length before climbing back onto the bed. Joyce lies back and allows Hopper to once again climb over her, where he positions himself near her entrance. With his hands placed on either side of her head, he leans down and begins kissing her, picking up almost exactly where they left off.
He gently rocks forward, his length teasing at her entrance. She's already wet from the fooling around they'd been doing. He teases her again, this time rocking forward a little further.
"Hopper," she says, both a warning and a plea.
He breaks the kiss, balancing himself on one arm while using the other to position himself once again. He locks eyes with her and their silent conversation tells him that she's ready. He pushes into her gently, first just the tip accompanied by a small kiss on the cheek. She nods, an indication to keep going so he rocks into her a little further. He waits until she adjusts to his size before pushing into her all the way.
She gasps, his hardness filling her up and making her feel complete in a way she never knew she could be completed. The way he was looking down at her with so much adoration in his eyes makes her heart pound.
He gives her a moment to get used to the intrusion, and within seconds her nose goes from scrunched to relaxed.
"Is that okay?"
"Yeah," she smiles.
He pulls back slightly then, sliding himself in and out slowly. He finds a steady rhythm she appears to enjoy, not quite fully thrusting into her but thrusting enough that it's pleasurable, he slips his hand between their bodies and runs his thumb over her clit.
She immediately moans, the sensation unlike anything she'd ever felt. Hopper buries his face in her shoulder as he continues to pump in and out of her. Her knees are bent, brushing against his outer hips as he moves and she slowly begins to shift beneath him, matching his movements. The first roll of her hips catches him off guard and he whimpers her name. He knows he isn't going to last much longer, but he continues to stimulate her bundle of nerves, wanting this to be as pleasurable for her as possible.
Her hands work their way down his back, and once he feels himself getting close, his pace becomes sloppy, he loses his rhythm and his breathing grows heavy.
She clutches at his lower back, her thighs squeezing his hips.
"Joyce, I'm going to—" he begins to explain before abruptly pulling himself out of her. She keeps her hands in place on his back as he spills into the condom.
"I'm sorry you didn't get to— I can, we can…" he stutters.
"Hop," she breathes, holding his face between her palms. "That was incredible."
"But you didn't finish."
"Hey," she locks eyes with him, their foreheads brushing, "that was everything ."
"Now why don't you toss that thing away and come lay here with me?" she adds.
He does as she suggests and discards the condom into the trash can next to her bed before crawling into bed next to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Are you alright?" he whispers.
"I'm with you, why wouldn't I be?"
"You don't regret doing that, do you?"
"Not even slightly," she smiles and kisses him.
They fall asleep in each others arms and wake to the sound of chirping birds as the sun spills in through the open curtains. Joyce lifts her head from Hopper's bare chest and slowly opens her eyes. Looking around she notices their pile of discarded clothes before her gaze settles on the clock on her nightstand.
"Shit!" she exclaims, jumping up.
Hopper grumbles from beside her and lazily lifts his head. "What?"
"Shit. We fell asleep!" she informs him. "You have to go before my parents realize you spent the night here!"
In his sleepy-deprived daze, Hopper gets dressed and gathers his things before walking towards the door. Before he can reach the handle, Joyce scolds him. "Where do you think you're going?!"
"Home?" he asks, confused.
"Not that way. Window," she points.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
Hopper slides back the window and sticks one leg out before walking back over to Joyce, planting a deep kiss on her lips and telling her he'll see her for lunch.
She watches as he climbs down the side of the house and walks back to his car, which is parked a few houses up the road. Once he's gone, she flops back onto her bed wearing a massive grin. Last night was everything she hoped it would be and more.
She'd heard from Josie that the first time could be awkward but that wasn't her experience at all. Last night was just as much as an emotional first as it was a physical one for her. She felt safe with Hopper and she had no doubt that the way they connected last night was something special.
.
.
All week he's been trying to find the best way to tell her - he loves her.
Not in the puppy love kind of way either. He loved her like he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
Sometimes, the feeling overwhelms him in a shocking way. How had it taken him so long to see what was right in front of him? He'd always known he loved her in a platonic way, being that she was one of the only people he felt comfortable enough to be to himself around. If he had realized sooner, would he have fallen as hard?
He silences the pointless questions rattling around in his mind and tries to focus on the question at hand. How was he going to tell Joyce that he loved her?
Class ended in a few days which meant they would be receiving their junior yearbooks soon. It was cliche but he could write it in her yearbook. He debates telling her over the phone but decides he wants to see her face when he informs her of how deep his feelings for her run. Hopper thinks about all the ways he can tell her, running through each scenario in his mind for countless nights before drifting off to sleep.
On Thursday afternoon, Joyce excitedly bounds up to Hopper and brags that she's finally free of exams.
"We made it! Summer break here we come," he grins down at her. "I have another surprise. I picked these up for us."
He passes Joyce a copy of the yearbook, a cartoon tiger draw on the cover that reads Hawkins High 58'.
"Yearbooks?" she asks.
"Wanna look through them?"
She nods and climbs onto the hood of his car. Kicking one leg over the other, she props herself up and slides over to make room for him.
Hopper places one arm on the hood behind Joyce and they each dive into their yearbooks.
"Here's me!" he brags, pointing to a shot of him on the football field.
Joyce silently browses through the pages of her book, staring at the faces of her classmates and smiling. She notices a few of the photos of her and Josie at the dance but decides not to point them out to Hopper. He'll probably notice them on his own and she didn't want to remember the way she felt about him and Chrissy that night.
"There you are with Josie," he says as if he can hear her thoughts. "You looked so beautiful."
"You think so?" she blushes.
"You always look beautiful," he tells her.
Leaning back against him, she allows him to kiss her temple. "You're such a sap."
"You pretend to be tough but you love it."
"You don't know that."
"I do. You forget I know you better than anyone."
With a silent smile, Joyce returns to flipping through her yearbook. She spots several more photos of Hopper and his teammates and even manages to find herself in the art club photo. When she reaches the end of the book, she closes it and asks Hopper if he's ready to get going.
"Don't you want me to sign your yearbook?" he asks.
"Why?" she laughs, "It's not like we're going to lose touch."
Hopper swallows hard and tries to think quickly. I want to write in it so I can tell you that I love you.
"I know but it'll be a nice keepsake."
"I guess," she shrugs, handing him the book.
"I think I left something in my locker, do you mind waiting while I go and grab it?"
"I'll be right here," he tells her.
Joyce climbs down off the hood of his car and with a small hop heads back into the school. He watches as she walks away and once inside he grabs her yearbook and flips to the blank back page.
He takes a pencil out of his back pocket and twirls it in his hand.
Bringing it to the page, he raises the tip to begin writing her name then pulls back with a heavy sigh.
He could do it. Write down that he loves her but then he won't get to hear it out loud the first time he says it. He wants everything about the moment to be perfect and he was realizing now that this wasn't the way he wanted to do this.
Joyce returns holding a book and tells him she's ready to go. Hopper returns her yearbook and slides off the car with a grin.
"Well, did you sign it?"
"Nah, you were right. It's not like we're going to lose touch."
"Exactly. Like it or not you're stuck with me," she says.
"Seems like a pretty decent problem to have."
"I think so," she laughs.
"So, how do you want to celebrate finishing your last exam?" he asks.
"What if we went swimming?"
"Swimming?!"
"Yeah, you know that thing that people do in water?"
"You told me you hated swimming."
"I lied. I just didn't want to get my hair wet that day."
"We've known each other for how many years and you've let me believe you hated swimming for all of them?!"
"Yes."
"What the hell! We could have gone so many times."
"Well, now we can start going," she smiles.
"I'm going to hold you to that when we visit my grandfather's cabin this summer."
"Wait, your parents agreed?!"
"They did. It's us for two weeks," he replies. "Just you and me. Our own cabin for two entire weeks."
He steps towards her and grins down at her. "We can have lazy mornings," he whispers, leaning closer.
"And we can sit by the fire."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. And now we can go skinny dipping," he smirks.
"What happened to plain old swimming?"
"We can start with that," he says softly.
"Hop-"
"Yes?"
"Let's get out of here."
They head to the lake, Joyce complaining about Hopper's music choice the entire way. Staring at her as she signings along with the radio, his heart swells. He was going to tell her he loved her, it just had to be perfect.
.
"I can't believe I ruined it," Joyce pouts over her ruined pot of pasta.
She was making dinner for the two of them and insisted she didn't need his help. Only, she forgot she put the pasta on to boil and it had now boiled over and was stuck to the bottom of the pot.
Helping Joyce clean up the mess on the floor, Hopper looks up at her and says, "it's fine we can just make it again."
He moves to the opposite side of the kitchen and discards the clump of burnt pasta, then props himself up against the counter and watches as she refills the pot with more water.
"I can't believe I screwed up something so simple," she whines. "I wanted tonight to be perfect."
"It already is. Even if you burnt our dinner to a crisp," he laughs.
"It's not funny."
"Joyce, it's hilarious."
"I'm going to get it right this time," she says in a determined voice.
"Do you want some help?" he offers.
"No. I can do it."
"Alright, I'll stay out of your way then."
From across the room, he watches as his tiny but determined girlfriend reads the instructions on the back of the pasta box for a third time. With her hair pulled back and pinned on the top of her head and her arms folded across her chest she looked like a force to be reckoned with.
That's when it hits him. A vision of their entire life together. Her sitting in an armchair near a large south facing window, book open in her lap, sun streaming across her face. The room would be filled with comfortable silence and they would spend most Sunday afternoons like that; sitting in their respective corners just enjoying the presence of the other. He would steal glances of her while she was lost in a world of fantasy- a world that he would try so desperately to provide her in reality.
He wanted to give her everything . A house with a large wrap-around porch and a front lawn where one day their kids would play. A place where she could work on her art free of the stress life brings. A place they could both call home. One that was far from the small town of Hawkins, Indiana.
He sees it all so clearly. The two of them and a life grander than anyone from their small town can even imagine.
Watching her prepare dinner from across the room, her determined smile demanding his attention, he realizes he will likely never love someone the way he loves her.
"Hop, can you pass me that spoon?" she calls out to him.
"God, I love you," he replies as he snaps out of his daydream.
She freezes, blinks slowly and then stares up at him cautiously.
"W-what?" she stammers.
"I love you," he repeats, this time louder. It wasn't the perfect way he planned on telling her but it was perfect because he finally told her. Even if they were standing in the middle of his kitchen on a random Tuesday evening.
"You do?"
"With everything in me," he admits. "Is that okay?"
His nerves suddenly kick in and he realizes he hadn't thought about how she would react to him declaring his feelings. Joyce had always been a cautious person, never one to let people in easily and he panics and realizes despite the fact he was ready to tell her how he felt, she may not have been ready to hear it. He never expected her to say it back but he momentarily waivers on his decision (though the words just sort of tumbled out on their own anyways) to tell her.
"Yes," she nods.
"Look, Joyce, I didn't mean to just spring that on you. You don't have to say it back or anything," he says quickly. "I just-"
He pauses and drags his hand through his hair. "I just have been feeling this way for a while now and I wanted you to know. I thought you deserved to know. But you don't have to say it back, okay?"
"Okay."
Her smile slowly grows and he can tell the magnitude of what he's just admitted is hitting her in full force and her reaction is everything he hoped it would be. Her cheeks turn a deep shade of rose and her nose crinkles when she steps towards him.
"Hop?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you hand me that spoon?" she asks again.
"Oh yeah, of course," he laughs. He hands her the utensil and drops his tensed shoulders.
"One more thing?" she half-asks, half-states.
"Yeah?"
"Say it again?" she blushes.
He walks towards her and places his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her he smiles, "I love you."
Joyce rocks forwards on her toes and grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down to meet her for a kiss.
.
.
Laying across Hopper's bed, Joyce has her sketch pad open as she works on her latest piece; a black and white drawing of a bird.
From where he's perched on the opposite side of the headboard, he watches as her nose crinkles with concentration. They only had a few hours to spend together before he had to go and help his dad with some chores and he loved spending them watching her do something she loved.
When they first met, Joyce was hesitant to show him any of her work. Over the years she slowly began to open up and show him some of her finished pieces. Now that she invited him to watch the work in progress, he felt as though he was viewing something intimate. He got to witness her at her most vulnerable, working in a creative safe space to design something out of nothing. And she was damn good at it.
"You're staring?" she says without looking up.
"Admiring. That's beautiful."
"Thank you," she blushes. "It's just simple."
"Nothing about that is simple Joyce. That page was blank before you made that."
"Drawing isn't that hard."
"You clearly haven't seen my art skills," he laughs.
"I'm sure you'd be great at it."
"That's where you're wrong sweetheart. I'm not one of those people who's good at everything."
"And I am?"
"I mean, you get good grades, you can draw, you're kind, beautiful… ya, I'd say you qualify as one of those people."
"Aren't you always complaining about how people like that are intolerable?" she asks him.
"Yes."
"And what does that make me?" she smirks. She's toying with him, he knows it but he plays into it anyways.
"Infuriating. Stubborn. Infatuating."
"You're infatuated by me?"
"You know that I am, or you wouldn't be trying to do that thing you do with your eyes."
"What thing?"
"You know."
"Do I?"
"You're impossible."
"I thought you enjoyed a good challenge?"
"Only if I know I'll enjoy the prize."
"Did you just objectify me?"
"Yes," he blushes, "but you know I didn't mean it that way."
"Then in what way did you mean it?"
Through the midst of their conversation, he's gravitated towards her and her art supplies have been pushed aside. He's hovering over her now, his smirk growing as he moves his lips closer to hers, ghosting, but never touching allowing them to make contact.
"I mean you were worth the wait."
"Here I thought I was the one waiting for you," she whispers.
"Let's agree to say it was mutual pining and call it a day," he grins. He finally moves in for a kiss but is shoved away by one of her tiny hands.
"I was not pinning for you."
"Please, you were."
"I don't do that. If I wanted you, you would have been mine."
"Are you telling me you didn't want me that night you were in his arms?" his breath tickles her ear as he speaks and it sends a chill rippling through her body.
"No," she admits. "I wanted you."
"Exactly." He nuzzles his head against her shoulder and peppers her neck with kisses.
"Jim?!" His father's voice rings out from downstairs.
Untangling himself from Joyce, he sits up and replies, "yes dad?"
"Do you have some time to give me a hand now?"
"Ugh," he looks down at the strain in his jeans and gulps, "I'll be down in just a minute."
"Do you guys need any help?" Joyce offers.
Hopper hoists himself off the bed and stretches his arms above his head. "It's alright. You stay, draw. I'll be back in a bit."
He leans forward and gives her a quick kiss before leaving her in his bed with her sketchbook.
.
.
The following week, Joyce is sitting in her room reading when she hears Hopper's car pull up. She looks out the window and waves him up and within moments he's standing in the open doorway leading to her room.
He grins and proudly holds up a tape. "Look what I made."
"You made me a mixed tape?"
"I made us a mixed tape. For the summer."
He crosses her bedroom and marches over to her stereo, where he pops the tape in and presses play. A familiar jazzy tune fills the room and Hopper begins to dramatically say side-to-side.
"Fever? Really Hop?" she laughs.
"This is a great song," he informs her. "Come dance with me."
"No way," she laughs. She crosses her legs beneath her body on the bed and watches as he makes a complete fool of himself dancing around to the music.
"C'mon Horowitz, you can't leave me hanging I'll look like a fool."
"Too late," she teases.
He sways over to her and extends his palm. Reluctantly, she accepts his hand and allows him to pull her up and towards the center of her room, where he dramatically twirls her away from him before tugging her back in towards him.
She laughs and he does a ridiculous twist of the hips that makes her laugh harder, her arms on his shoulders. He lifts both arms and attempts to spin her inwards but she stumbles forward and crashes into his chest, causing them both to erupt in laughter.
Holding her while they laugh, he shakes his head and smiles.
"What?" she smirks, noticing a strange look in his eye.
"You're my best friend," he beams. "And you can't dance."
The pair fools around, dancing foolishly around Joyce's room, stealing kisses and allowing touches to linger, for the rest of the afternoon.
That night, laying in her bed and staring up at the ceiling, Joyce thinks back on her day.
She thinks that she loves him.
She isn't sure, she'd never really understood what it meant to love someone, but the unfamiliar sensation that overcomes her when she so much as thinks of him makes her believe it could be love.
Growing up, her parents never told her they loved her. It wasn't that they didn't care about her, they just never expressed emotions with words. Her father hadn't always been the way he is now and there was a time she remembered when her parents got along. But they never looked at each other the way the Hopper's did. There was something missing between them.
Joyce had never been one to believe in the type of romance they sold in books and movies. Those types of relationships were simply that, fictional words made up to make you feel something. A work of the imagination. People didn't actually feel that way about other people. Time didn't stop with a kiss and the act of making love was more a physical thing than an emotional one. Why then was she starting to believe in fictional concepts?
She thinks she must love him.
It was the only logical explanation for why she feels the way she does. The excited flutter she feels in the pit of her stomach when she thinks of him and the way they connected through both touch and language was a raw and powerful feeling. He made her feel like she was the only person in the room when he listened to her speak. When he kissed her, time stopped. It wasn't logical, or even physically possible, but she swore that for a moment, the universe stood still when their lips collided.
Then again, she's never been in love. Maybe this was nothing like what love felt like? Perhaps she was mistaking closeness four romantic love.
Either way, until she's certain she's not going to tell him. People had a habit of walking in and out of Joyce's life. Impermanence. A word she liked to use to describe nearly everything she had. The world was moving quickly, life ebbed and flowed and no one ever chose to remain a constant in her life. Her mother avoided spending time at home, and Joyce didn't blame her for it. Her father was a living terror and she never let herself have close friends for fear they would abandon her the way her parents had.
Hopper was the first and only person in her life she didn't think of as impermanent. He was her lighthouse in the storm that was the teenage years of her life and she would forever be grateful to him for saving her from herself.
He makes her feel alive. He reminds her to take herself less seriously and enjoy life and above all else, he loves her.
He loves her like a best friend and more .
And that terrifies her while it thrills her and she thinks that they can really be something together.
Because he loves her.
And though it's against her better judgement, she might love him too.
We're so sad, we paint the town blue
Voted most likely to run away
With you