Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the mistakes as this is un-beta'd.
Time After Time
It was becoming increasingly ridiculous that whatever the situation, whatever the emotion, it always seemed to lead them here – to him pressing her against the nearest flat surface and kissing her like his life depended on it, (he was beginning to think that it did), and then pretending it never happened and starting all over again. Post 2x09 Joyce/Hopper angsty fluff.
Chapter Three: Jealousy
In hindsight it was a dick move, a really dick move. Not even two weeks ago he'd been on her sofa drinking and crying and kissing her so damn hard the thought of it still left him breathless. And now he'd turned up to the Wheeler's twentieth wedding anniversary party, unexpected by all and with a date in toe.
He had met Colette whilst on duty, she worked at a gas station just outside of town that had been done over, it was unprofessional to date the witness of an open case and it was also, it had quickly transpired, been a terrible, terrible decision. Colette was everything that Joyce was not and that had been a very conscious choice – she was tall, busty, with long blonde hair and big blue eyes. She looked a lot like a Barbie doll in fact and Hop had since discovered that she had about the same amount of personality as one too.
The thing was he had spent the last two weeks, when he was not actively avoiding the Byers house or any of its residents, thinking a lot about whatever the hell it was that was growing between Joyce and himself and he had come to a very clear, definite conclusion: he and Joyce should never happen. They were both the same; both stubborn, hot-headed, damaged and each came with so much baggage they could both fill the arrivals lounge at JFK airport singlehandedly. She needed someone different; someone that was simple, that could love her in an uncomplicated way because they were uncomplicated, someone like Bob. She didn't need him or the plethora of issues he came with. So there he was with Colette, trying desperately to convince himself he was moving on and yet one look in Joyce's direction, one look at her styled hair, subtle make-up and new dress and his argument was already sounding a lot less convincing to his own ears.
She had clocked him as soon as he had walked in, he had seen her eyes widen slightly as she took in the woman hanging off of his arm, before she had turned her back on him and continued her conversation with a few of the other mums in town. He couldn't blame, after all, he'd already established it was a dick move. He knew she didn't feel comfortable with the women she was talking too. She had told him once that it was obvious none of them liked her, that she was the broke woman busting her arse with two jobs because her husband had walked out and was raising two slightly strange boys. She didn't fit in with them and that had been before Will had gone missing.
He wanted to go over to her, grab her, get the heck out of this stuffy party, tack her back to her place and finish what they had started two weeks ago. But he didn't. Instead he congratulated Ted and Karen, introduced them to Colette, got the two of them a drink and settled in for an evening of misery.
He didn't have to wait long for the misery to start. About ten minutes after he had arrived Joyce began her retaliation. That retaliation was to find the most unsuitable single man she possibly could and flirt outrageously with him. It was such a clear tactic meant solely to wind him up and he had not doubt it was entirely obviously to at least half the guests at the party and not just him what her motivations were, but still it worked. The jealousy and anger bubbled in the pit of his stomach and made the drink shake in his hand. Every time she exaggerated a laugh in response to an entirely unfunny joke or leant forward too close to say something to him, or let her hand linger too long on his arm, Hopper's blood boiled. It didn't help that she accompanied all of these moves with a sly look over her shoulder in Hopper's general direction. He wanted to kill something.
About half an hour into her little show Joyce excused herself from the douche she was still talking to and made her way upstairs to use the bathroom. But not before throwing Hopper another coy look over her shoulder as she left. It was too much an invitation to ignore. He left Colette talking to a very interested Ted and followed Joyce from the room.
He waited outside the Wheeler's upstairs bathroom as he heard the toilet flush and the sound of the sink being used. As soon as he heard the click of the lock he pushed his way into room, shutting and locking the door firmly behind him. The room was small and his large frame loomed tall, his shadow reaching into every corner of the space.
Joyce had the audacity to look surprised.
"Hop, what are you..?"
"Don't." He warned. His voice sounded dangerous. Watching her with that guy had wound him up so much more than he knew it should have, more than even she had probably planned. He knew he had to be careful; he was on the edge, about to plummet into uncontrollable anger, lust, despair, or probably all three. "Just don't. No more games."
"I'm not the one that brought some bimbo with me tonight." So she had known exactly what she was doing, of course she had. Hopper let out a pained sigh.
"I was trying… I was trying to…" To what? Get over her? Was there anything to get over? If there was he certainly hadn't succeeded in his plan. "…to move on. To forget about you and whatever this is." He finished quietly at last. He had said no more games, it was time to start being honest.
"Did it work?"
Hopper looked up at her, she was standing as far away from him as the small room would allow, her arms hugged round herself, her teeth worrying her lower lip. For the first time that night she looked vulnerable and scared. Joyce Byers the woman that could take on monsters without ever losing her nerve looked scared at the prospect of him moving on. The tension inside of him broke suddenly and the release flooded his system.
"What do you think?" He'd followed her to bathroom. He hadn't given a second thought to Colette or what she was doing. He doubted he ever would again.
The smile his answer produced somehow made the whole goddamn thing worth it.
And then they were kissing. It was just as it had been before, all passion and heat and a bone-deep, toe-curling need that refused to be quenched no matter how much they both tried. Her delicate hands were everywhere all at once; all over his shirt, tangling in his hair, rubbing against his growing desire as it strained against his jeans. He hoisted her up effortlessly onto the sink behind her so they were at more even height before he continued his open mouth assault down her throat and deep into the valley between her breasts.
"Mine." He heard himself growl with a possessiveness he had never felt before. Whatever this was between them he had it bad, he had it so bad and he doubted he was ever going to get out of it.
She threw her head back as his hand found its way under the hem of her dress, his long fingers stroking up her thigh getting closer and closer still to her centre. When he brushed over her through her kickers she flung her hand out to steady herself and caught the tap, sending cold water gushing over the bunched up skirt of her dress. She shrieked with the surprise of it and Hopper stilled immediately before reaching behind her and turning it off. Joyce burst out laughing as soon as he had and god it was so infectious that he found himself laughing too before he could stop himself.
The ridiculousness of the moment had diffused some of the tension but none of the desire that still hung palpable in the air as Hopper leaned forward and nipped affectionately at her swollen lips. His onslaught had caused her lipstick to smudge and he brought a hand up to her face to wipe at the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Her tongue ran over his thumb seductively causing his eyes to darken with lust once more.
"Are we really going to do this here?" He asked. His voice was cracked and croaky from their recent activities. He didn't know what was more unbelievable; that this appeared to be finally happening between the two of them or that it was happening in the Wheeler's bathroom with a house full of guests downstairs.
"I'm not sure Karen's sink could take it." She teased, biting her bottom lip once again and smiling at him in way that made him believe he could never truly deny her anything, ever again. He leaned into her, both hands resting either side of her legs on the sink and pressing his weight down as if to prove some unspoken point.
"There's nice bit of flat wall there I could lean you against." He teased right back. He laughed when she looked disgusted at his offer.
"Charming."
"Or we could get out of here, go…"
The loud, abrupt knocking caused them both to nearly jump out of their skins in fright. Joyce's hand shot to his shoulder to steady herself. She brought her other hand to her mouth and pressed her finger firmly to her lips as if she thought he was about to shout out exactly what they had just been doing. He rolled his eyes in response and steadied her on sink, his hands lingering on her hips.
"Joyce… you okay in there?" Karen called out as the door handle rattled insistently. "Look Ricky's a creep, you really shouldn't encourage him like that but he's gone now." Hopper gave her a knowing look at the entirely accurate description of the man she had been flirting with earlier. Neither said anything. Joyce didn't trust her voice not to betray her just yet and more importantly she didn't quite trust Hopper not to do something that made it extremely clear she was not alone in there. "Joyce?.. Nancy, Jonathan and Will have just got back from the movies, the boys are asking where you are… will you just come out already please."
The two of them shared a silent look that they both understood at once – the moment, for now at least, had passed.
"I'll be down in one second Karen. I'll meet you downstairs." Joyce said, her voice sounding unsteady but not as sexed as she had feared it might.
They waited until they heard Karen huff in clear irritation and walk downstairs. Hopper helped her get down from the sink as they straightened their hair and clothes in silence. He reached out and wiped away the rest of her smudged lipstick with his thumb. The move was so gentle she almost wanted to cry – they really couldn't catch a break.
"I'll go first. Wait in here for a few minutes before you follow me." She told him quietly, almost reverently, as she checked her reflection in the mirror.
"Yeah will do. I'll need a few minutes before I'm decent enough for public display anyway." He said as he gestured vaguely to his still very obvious excitement. She shot him a sympathetic look before turning to leave.
He caught her arm just as she reached the lock and spun her round gently. He leaned down, his hand cupping the back of her head and kissed her deeply. There was no real fire or intent in the kiss, it was strong but sweet, gentle. It was a promise.
"No more games, yeah?" He whispered against her lips.
"No more games." She agreed. And then she unlocked the door, walked downstairs and re-joined the party.
