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Her first instinct is to shove him.
A little aggressive maybe, but it feels appropriate, so her hand connects with his shoulder and he laughs as she pushes him and he falls backwards onto the roof of the car.
“What?” Steven says, and Connie dodges as he reaches up to push her back. “I’m not wrong.”
“You are absolutely wrong.” She catches his wrist in her hand, shaking his arm and grinning as his whole body shakes with the movement and he pulls to get away. “You think your car could beat Lion in a race? Really?”
“Yeah, because Lion wouldn’t even agree to the race. Car would win by default.”
“Lion would agree if I asked him. He just doesn’t listen to you.”
There’s a pause as Steven claps a hand to his heart in mock offence, finally pulling his wrist from Connie’s grip, and he sits up to glare at her. “He listens to me sometimes.”
“Prove it.”
Steven turns to stare into the distance, a hopeful sound of pspspsps leaving his lips, and Connie stifles a snort as Lion lifts his head out of a bush, sending them an irritated blink before turning his back on them again.
“Wow.”
Steven frowns. “Bitch.”
“He’s not a bitch!”
“He is. It’s his entire personality.”
“Lion!” Connie calls, and Steven lets out a gasp of betrayal when Lion immediately makes his way over to them, staring up at them with vaguely curious eyes. “See. Just doesn’t listen to you.”
Steven squints, hissing the word through his teeth. “Bitch.”
“That would probably sound more threatening if you weren’t laughing.”
“I’m not!” He lifts a hand to cover his mouth, eyes still shining with amusement. “I’m not laughing.”
“Mm.” Connie sends him the most deadpan look she can conjure, jumping down from the roof of the car and up onto Lion’s back. She runs a hand through the fur, through Lion’s mane, keeping eye contact with Steven as a slow smile spreads over her face. “You still think your car would win a race?”
“My only purpose in life is to oppose Lion, so yeah.”
Lion narrows his eyes, and Connie shifts her expression to match. “You know what, Universe? You’re on.”
“I’m— what?” Steven blinks and cuts himself off as Lion turns and runs, speeding down the empty road with Connie still clinging tightly to his mane, her laugh echoing in the warm evening air. “Hey, wait!”
He’s in his car almost instantly, gripping the wheel and racing after them. He reaches out a quick hand to open the window, taking a deep breath when he feels the air fly into the car and blow into his face, running through his hair and making his eyes start to water. For a split second his vision flashes with a burst of pink light, and suddenly Lion is level with the car, Connie almost laying flat on his back to peek through the window.
“Speed limit, Steven.”
“Speed— damn it.” The car slows a little, and Steven sighs as Connie laughs again and races ahead. “Connie, there’s a speed limit for you too!”
“Lions don’t need to follow speed limits!” Connie yells, and Steven huffs in annoyance.
“Yes, they do!” The car rolls to a stop and Steven leans back in his seat, arms folded across his chest as he watches Connie and Lion skid to a halt at the end of the road. Even with the distance, with the clouds of dust rising from the floor where Lion’s paws had been, with the rays of soft sunlight shining down into his eyes, Steven can see the expression on her face; smug, happy, playful. It would almost be cute if it wasn’t a clear indicator that she’s never going to let him live this down.
Another flash of light and Lion is next to the car again, and Connie wrenches the door open with a grin. “So...”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” She slides into the seat next to him, smile widening when he sends her a half hearted glare that he finds it impossible to put any malice into. “Don’t point out the fact that you lost?”
“I didn’t lose, you just broke the law to win.”
“I didn’t break the law!”
“Tell that to the lion police.”
Connie snorts. “Lion police?”
The corner of Steven’s mouth flicks up, and he uncrosses his arms and turns to face her, leaning in with a whisper. “You’d better be careful. They’ll take you to lion jail.”
Connie dissolves into giggles at that, and Steven starts to lean back with a satisfied smile on his face. He’s only shifted backwards a little before Connie’s hands grab ahold of his jacket’s collar, pulling him in so quickly that he falls and has to throw a hand out to steady himself, leaving their faces only inches apart. His eyes flick from her eyes to her mouth and back again, and he reaches his other hand up to rest on top of hers where it stays holding onto his collar. “What was that for?”
“You need your consolation prize. For losing,” she says. Her voice is so quiet, so soft, so caring that it takes Steven a few seconds to register her words. When he does, he pulls a face, and she shakes her head at him a little as he scrunches up his nose.
“I didn’t l—” He doesn’t finish. Connie’s lips press hard against his, her fingers tightening around the fabric of his jacket, and he leans closer to her, as much as he can in the enclosed space of the car. She pulls away after a few seconds and he almost protests, but then her lips are tracing a gentle path over his cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose, and he smiles under the feeling of her love.
“If this is the prize for losing,” he says, and pauses when she silences him with a quick kiss to his lips. “I think I should lose more often.”
“So you’re admitting you lost?” She mumbles against him, and he swallows his protests as she kisses his jaw and he feels her smile against his skin.
“Maybe.”
“Hm.” She leaves another kiss just to the side of his mouth, and Steven shivers as her hand leaves his collar and comes to rest at the back of his neck, pulling him in closer and closer. “I can live with maybe.”