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He doesn’t know how to react at first.
It’s a little awkward, with Connie staring at him with wide hopeful eyes and a smile that he could almost describe as nervous. She’s never been nervous around him before - not for years, at least - and it’s such a shift from the usual confident Connie that he’s used to.
“Uh. Can you- what?”
She huffs, pushing a strand of hair away from her face, and Steven tries his best to push away the thought of how unbelievably cute it is. “Makeup,” she says. “You- you have pink hair now, I thought maybe makeup would match. Complete the look, y’know?”
A blush spreads over his cheeks as he mumbles “I’d like that,” as a soft agreement, and he watches as a matching blush appears on Connie’s face before she jumps from the bed to root around in her bag, hands scrabbling between the books stuffed there.
“I have some ideas already,” she says, and Steven’s heart races when she smiles over her shoulder at him. “Pink is definitely your colour, and I think- maybe some gold? Or silver- no, gold would be good. It’ll match the star on your shirt.”
“Whatever you say,” and suddenly she’s back on the bed beside him, sitting directly in his lap with their face inches apart.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh, shit.
He swallows the flustered noise that’s rising in his throat and keeps his back straight, fighting against every thought of move, move, she’s too close, you’ll mess it up, you’ll get this wrong that’s racing through his mind.
There’s no messing up. Not with Connie; never with Connie. She’s there no matter what, no matter how awkward he gets or how many words he stumbles over, she’s always there with gentle touches and soft words to calm him down, to put things in perspective and make things better. She’s Connie, and it’s okay, and Steven holds his shaking hands still as Connie shifts on his lap, getting comfortable before she finally lifts her head and meets his eyes.
“Is this okay?” She asks a little tentatively, hand gesturing from the makeup in her lap to the distance between their two bodies, and Steven gives a quick nod and leans in a little, almost pressing their foreheads together.
“It’s okay.”
“Good,” she whispers back, and suddenly her hand is between them, and Steven lets out a surprised laugh as a brush swipes across his cheek, leaving a tingling sensation on the skin. “Are you going to laugh the whole time?”
“Only if you-” he laughs again as the brush tickles under his nose, scrunching his face up with a smile. “Only if you take me by surprise like that!”
“So no surprises?” Connie grins.
“No sur- hey!” It sounds almost offended, and Steven stutters as he tries to backtrack as quickly as possible, because offended is the last thing he feels right now.
He’s only half sure it really just happened - what if he’d just imagined it? His subconscious, his imagination running wild and getting the better of him, tricking him into thinking that she kissed him, Connie just kissed him, and it was soft and delicate and so painfully short, and he blinks silently at her as she bites her lip and averts her gaze.
“So... that was a surprise,” she says, and Steven lets a laugh overtake him. It’s nervous and overwhelming and almost terrifying, and he shakes his hands a little in an attempt to calm down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to spring that on you.”
“It’s okay!” He winces at the rushed pace of his voice, and slows it down as best he can for the next sentence. “It was... nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Steven bites his lip, hands shifting downwards a little to rest on Connie’s waist; he thinks it’s okay, he wants it to be okay.
And it is. ”It’s okay,” she says, because of course she can read his mind. He wonders sometimes if he’s just an open book. He’s pretty good at hiding his feelings, he thinks, since the gems didn’t seem to know or understand him until he corrupted right in front of them and the divide that his emotions had caused couldn’t be ignored anymore. But Connie just gets him, in a way he doesn’t quite understand. There’s no hiding from her, no unspoken words, and never any lying.
“What?”
“The touching. It’s okay, you know. I mean, I’m already sat on your lap, so...”
He snorts at that and pulls her closer, holding her wrist as she puts down one makeup brush and picks up another, covering it in pink powder before bringing it up to his face.
“Close your eyes,” she says, and her voice is such an intimate whisper that Steven doesn’t think he could have found it in him to protest, even if he wanted to. His eyes flutter shut and he resists the urge to let a soft laugh escape him as the brush traces over his eyelids, leaving streaks of pink that he can’t see. “Pretty,” Connie hums, and Steven feels the blush spreading across his face reach his ears. “Cute, too.”
“Uh, you-” Steven bites his lip, opening his eyes and earning a small tsk of annoyance from Connie. “You kissed me.”
Connie falters. “I... did.”
“And then called me pretty. ...And cute.”
“Uh huh.”
The look on Connie’s face is almost pained. It’s vulnerable and scared, like she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Steven to push her away and tell her that he hated it, she got too close, she got too attached, she got it wrong.
He doesn’t.
He kisses her.
It takes a second for her to react, and he almost pulls away, but suddenly the eyeshadow brush in her hand has dropped to the bed and her fingers are tracing along his jaw, fluttering behind his ear and holding the back of his neck. He reaches up a hand to match her gesture, tips of his fingers knocking against the star earring that’s tucked under her hair. She’s soft and warm and solid and she’s there, she’s Connie and she’s kissing him and she loves him, and just the thought of it is enough to make him melt into her touch.
He doesn’t want to pull away.
He supposes he’ll have to, eventually; she needs to breathe, even if he could stay this close to her for almost forever.
When they break apart, they’re both breathless, and Steven isn’t sure what to say to fill the silence.
Thank you. No, too polite.
Wow. No, too cliché.
Holy fuck. Maybe swearing isn’t the best option.
He settles on a soft exhalation of breath, running his tongue over his bottom lip. A little awkward, maybe, but he supposes that he and Connie are both used to that by now.
“What happened to no surprises?” Connie says, and Steven lets a smile break over his face, leaning in to press his forehead gently against hers.
“Maybe some surprises are okay.”
“Oh, when they’re on your terms?” There’s a teasing glint in Connie’s eyes, and Steven shoves at her shoulder weakly.
“When they involve kisses like that.”
“Such a hopeless romantic. Who knew?”
“I... think we both always knew.”
His heart skips a beat when Connie laughs, her hand reaching down to pick up the discarded brush and swiping it across the eyeshadow palette. “Hold still again.”
And then his eyes are closed and the brush is on his face again, except this time Connie is leaning in to kiss his cheek, ghosting her lips over his forehead, pressing a smile to the tip of his nose.
“I love you,” he mumbles. He wants to say it; he’s wanted to say it for so long. “I’m... in love with you.”
There’s a pause.
He doesn’t open his eyes.
And then Connie’s lips are pressed against his one more time, gentle and beautiful and fitting against him perfectly.
Understanding him perfectly.
Loving him, so so perfectly.
”Connie, I love you. Connie, I think I’m in love with you.”
”I’m in love with you too, Steven.”