Chapter Text
The door closes and they’re alone. For the first time in over 8 months they’re alone. No Russians, no demogorgons, no guns, no threats hiding in the darkness, hell not even a Murray telling them to move whatever they’re doing elsewhere.
He thought about this moment a lot. Reuniting with Joyce. If he’s being honest, it’s the only thing that kept him going in that place. He knows that’s not entirely true, it’s the thought of Joyce and the boys and El, together as a family. He allowed himself to dream about that a lot. But there were moments where he would let his mind wonder to Joyce only, to all the things he would say to her when, if he would ever have the chance again. On some nights, when he was feeling even more hopeful, he would dream about all the things he would do when he would see her again. Hugging her, holding her without ever having to let go. Kissing her, he thought about that a lot.
The dreams would start with kissing, but would always end with a bit more than that. He wants to feel guilty about thinking about her like that, in that way, but who could really blame him. But dreams don’t really matter now. Because she is here, right in front of him, so he really should stop thinking and start talking.
But for some reason, he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to say so much, but in this moment he can only look at her. His Joyce. His fierce, amazing, beautiful, stunning Joyce. He tries to say something, anything to stop this staring contest he started. Making her uncomfortable is the last thing he wants to do. But he doesn’t want to stop staring. ‘Cause what if he blinks and she disappears. All of this disappears and he’s back in his cell in that place.
It seems Joyce isn’t so bothered by the staring and gives him a sweet smile. A smile like this could warm him up after all those cold months he thinks and he wants to tell her that. He isn’t fast enough and Joyce breaks the silence.
“You should take a shower Hop.”
He really wants to.
“No you should go first Joyce.” He can’t stand the fact that she went through hell, crashed a plane, and all because of him. He wants her to be warm and comfortable before he is.
“Hop.. I have missed our bickering more than you can possibly imagine, but I don’t want to argue about this. I can’t imagine secret Russian prisons providing nice warm showers, so please go first.”
She said it before, said she missed him. It’s one of the first things she said to him. It warmed his heart then, and it does now. It starts a whole new train of thoughts without him realizing.
“Don’t make me say it again Hop.” Joyce has a hand on her hip now. He knows it’s supposed to look intimidating, but he can’t stop thinking how cute she looks.
“Okay.. but only because you said you missed me.” He says, giving her a smile that hopefully shows how happy he is being able to have this kind of conversation with her again.
He walks into the bathroom and closes the door. But the moment he closes the door, panic kicks in. He feels ashamed for not even being able to be in a room, alone, without panicking. But he can’t ignore this feeling. He stands there for a minute and tries to get his breathing back to normal but it’s not working. He wants to open the door and see Joyce. He knows that will calm him down. He takes a step towards the door and reaches for the doorknob. But for the second time tonight Joyce is quicker and he hears a knock on the door.
“Hop are you okay in there? You forgot your clean clothes.”
He opens the door and looks at her. She can clearly see in his face something’s wrong.
“You okay?”
“Uhm.. yeah.. sorry, thanks.”
But she isn’t happy with his answer and looks at him. He really doesn’t want to start a staring contest again, so he tries to use more words this time.
“It’s stupid.. I should be able to be in a room by myself without feeling like something’s wrong.” He says, clearly getting frustrated “But the minute I closed the door, I..- never mind, like I said, it’s stupid.”
So much for using more words
“Would it help if I was in the room with you?”
And just like that he’s without words again. Did she just say she wants to stay in the room with him? He definitely feels like he’s back in his cell now, ‘cause this is just straight out of one of his dreams.
“It would give me the chance to clean your wounds Hop. And to be honest, I don’t like being away from you now, even if it’s for 5 minutes.”
He smiles now, ‘cause hearing Joyce doesn’t want to be away from him does something to his heart. She’s warming him up from the inside.
“Are you saying you want to shower with me Joyce?” He says giving her a smirk.
“Stop talking or I’ll change my mind.” And just like that, they’re back to flirty banter. He laughs now, ‘cause this takes him back to one of their last moments together before all of this happend. When she finally had agreed to their date. He remembers his heart back then, it’s beating just as fast now as it did then.
“Wouldn’t want that.” But before he can smile at her again, keeping this flirty banter going, he panics again. ‘Cause he didn’t really think this through. Joyce in the shower, with him, naked. Well that’s not really true, he actually thought about that a lot. But he lost all hope that it would really happen.
She doesn’t give him much time to panic, ‘cause she starts lifting her shirt up and off. He wants to turn around to give her privacy, but that seems stupid, giving the fact they’re sharing a shower together. He does however tries to not stare, that just seems rude. So he distracts himself by undressing. Which turns out to be harder than he thought. His whole body hurts and he’s pretty one of, if not all, his ribs are broken. He gets his shirt off, but when he tries to pull his pants down, he struggles. He’s getting annoyed now. He’s undressing in the same god damn room as Joyce and it shouldn’t be a struggle for him.
“Let me help you Hop.” He wants to argue, but he stops himself. ‘Cause she is now taking off his pants and why would he argue with that. He steps out of his pants and is now left standing with only his boxers on. He looks at her now and notices that she’s also, only in her underwear. And he should definitely stop looking, cause his boxers are starting to feel a bit tight.
For the second time tonight she asks “You okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, uhm.. you’re kinda distracting me.”
It’s her time now to give a smirk. She takes a step closer and lets her fingers linger near the top of his boxers.
“Just giving you a hand Hop.”
And she actually gets on her knees to help him step out off his boxers. Oh she’s evil. She knows the affect she’s having on him, and even if she didn’t, he can’t really hide it now.
“Get in the shower Hop, I’ll get the stuff to clean you up.”
He turns away from her and opens the shower curtain, leaving them open for her to follow him. For a minute he gets distracted, ‘cause he turns the shower on and there’s actually warm, hot water hitting his bruised body and it feels incredible. He stands without moving and let’s the water wash away all the dirt that stuck to his body like a second skin. He almost forgets he’s not alone, but then he hears the curtain close and opens his eyes. He takes a deep breath ‘cause even after all his dreams he’s not prepared for the sight in front of him. Joyce is standing right there, looking at him with possibly the sweetest smile he’s ever seen, with definitely the most beautiful body he’s ever seen. And then it hits him. He is finally safe, together with Joyce.
And he secretly hopes she doesn’t see his tears, that his tears blend with the water from the shower. He supposed to be the one protecting her, comforting her, but looking into her eyes, Joyce’ eyes, he can’t stop the tears this time. He want to tell her he loves her. Tell her that everyday for 8 months he thought of her. Her smile, the way her nose crinkles when he says something that makes her smile, the way their fingers would brush and linger when they would share cigarettes. He want to tell her he loves her. More than anything. Not for the first time this evening he realizes that he is thinking way too much and he needs to use his words.
“I love you.”
And he can’t really stop now..
“I love you so much Joyce. I wanted to tell you that since the moment I finally wrapped my arms around you again. Hell, I should have told you this before Russia, before any of this happend, ‘cause I have loved you for a long time..”
He starts rambling
“..And I hate myself for being the reason you ended up in Russia and I feel guilty because I’m also pretty damn happy you’re in Russia. Because it means you’re with me and that feels fucking amazing. I thought about you everyday for 8 months, you kept me going Joyce, some nights the pain was almost too much but then I would think about you, the boys and El, the family we could be together.”
He’s afraid he said too much. He knows he’s not just someone to Joyce. He figured that out when she came running into his arms in that horrible place. Maybe even before that. But talking about being a family together might be a bit much. He wants to apologize, but before he gets the chance Joyce answers. But this time it’s not him that’s without words, ‘cause she answers him with a kiss. A kiss that takes his breath away. It’s nothing like the kiss they shared in the church. This one is soft and hesitant and he can’t get enough. Before he has the chance to fully respond, she pulls back.
“I love you too.” He feels unsteady on his feet. The kiss already made him weak in the knees, but hearing those words, coming from her mouth, makes it even worse. This time, it’s him that responds with a kiss. And this kiss is starting to feel more like the kiss they shared in the church. He runs his tongue over her bottom lip and she opens for him. He’s addicted. He’s not sure if they kiss for seconds, minutes, hours, but eventually they separate. The need for air getting a bit too strong. He wouldn’t really mind kissing her until he passes out from the lack of air, but he’s also pretty set on doing this again. So air it is.
“I really should start cleaning your wounds before the water turns cold.” He knows that’s true, but he misses her lips already.
“Yeah, don’t really fancy a cold shower. Had enough of those.” But before she reaches for the soap, he steals one more kiss. Yep, he’s addicted. She’s addictive.
She starts cleaning the wounds on his chest and his breath hitches. She’s so careful and her touch is so soft. The need to touch her too is strong. He wants to run his hands all over her body and spend hours touching her. But for now he settles his hands on her hips. Giving them a squeeze every now and then, ‘cause he knows he’s not the only one that needs a reassuring touch now.
He lets her clean his whole body, and it feels like therapy. All the stress, pain, horrible feelings Russia left him with are now being replaced by Joyce her touches and kisses. It feels amazing.
But the need to touch her hasn’t gone away. “Let me repay the favor.”
Without words, they swap places and she stands under the water. He takes the soap from her and starts doing the same she’s done to him. He hopes he pours as much love into his touches as she’s done. He said it with his words, but now he wants to show her, make her feel loved. He knows this is only the beginning, ‘cause he promises himself right there that he’s going to make her feel loved every moment they’re together.
He switches the soap for the shampoo and runs his hands through her hair and this time he can hear her moan. And he definitely needs to hear it again. Maybe they don’t need more words tonight. He just wants to hear her make that sound again, and again.
“Joyce..” he breathes. He’s holding back and he’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to. Her answer doesn’t come ‘cause suddenly the water turns cold and he yelps. He’s trying to turn the shower off but Joyce is still way to distracting. He finally finds the shower knob and turns it off.
They get out of the shower and she hands him a towel. “At least there was enough warm water to get cleaned up.”
“Yeah it might have been for the best, could have stayed in there for the whole night.”
“That would be a shame, was kinda excited to share a bed with you.” She says while giving him a smile. And he’s jealous of her, ‘cause it seems this flirty banter is way easier for her tonight than it is for him. But he’s also thankful, he probably would have just stared at her for the whole evening without saying a word. This is much better.
“Wouldn’t want to let you down.” See, he can do this. He’s just not up to full speed yet. Which isn’t weird. Blood hasn’t really been going into the direction of his brain tonight.
They get dressed, much to his dismay. He would rather have a naked Joyce next to him. But he probably wouldn’t be able to close his eyes with a naked Joyce next to him, way too distracting.
He gets under te covers and lets out a deep sigh. Adrenalin had been rushing through his body all night, but with his head hitting the pillow everything seems to quiet down. He’s on his side, just like Joyce. Staring into each others eyes. He tries to fight the tiredness, keeping his eyes open, not wanting this moment to end just yet. But the tiredness is getting to him and he’s not winning this fight.
“Go to sleep Hop, I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He reaches out with his hand, caressing her cheek. God, he really can’t stop touching her. “Promise?”
“Fifty demogorgons won’t even be able to keep me away from you Hop, I promise.”
That seems to calm his nerves, ‘cause he stops fighting the tiredness and surrenders. Blinking a few times, trying to steal as many glimpses of Joyce before sleep consumes him.
——————————————————————
If he thought falling asleep next to Joyce was heaven, he doesn’t even know how to explain how it feels to wake up next to her. She is everywhere. Her hair is tickling his nose, her legs are intertwined with his and he feels her breath on his chest. He never wants to move again. He doesn’t remember her snuggling up to him last night, but he’s sure as hell not complaining.
He knows it’s not morning yet, the curtains don’t fully close and he sees moonlight shining through. He should close his eyes and try to get some more sleep, he knows, but he can’t. Joyce is in his arms and he wants her to wake up so they can do more kissing, he wants to hear her moan, make her moan again. He is feeling entirely guilty, but again, who can blame him.
He reaches down and brushes her hair out of his face and tucks it behind her ear. He feels her stir and she slowly blinks up at him.
“Hop..” she whispers
“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you..”
Lie
She lifts her head and looks down at him. “You should get some more sleep Hop.”
“I would Joyce, but it’s hard to sleep whilst having you in my arms.”
She giggles and runs her hand down his chest. “I was hoping I would make you sleep better, not worse.”
Who said anything about making it worse?
“Oh, you do make it better. It’s just hard to focus on sleep when there’s so much I want to do instead.”
Finally he feels like he’s catching up.
“You really can think of better things to do than sleep right now?” She’s still stroking his chest.
He’s feeling brave now. Taking his hand that was resting on her hip to stroke her back, slowly reaching her hair, tangling his hand in the locks of hair he finds there.
“Oh yeah, I do. It’s your fault really, I was using my imagination too much.”
She laughs, a burst of deep loud hearty laughter. He definitely wants to make her do that again. But for now he has more important things to do. He uses his hand tangled in her hair to bring her head down and he reaches up. He brushes her lips against his, keeping it light in case she does want to continue sleeping. But sleep doesn’t seem to be on her mind anymore ‘cause she instantly opens her mouth to him. And this time it’s him who moans ‘cause kissing Joyce is really the best fucking feeling ever.
He rolls them over so it’s now him who hovers over her. Her hands move from where they rested on his chest to his neck and she moves even closer to him. Not a single inch between them now.
Oh this is much better than sleeping.