#Steve Harrington/ofc

[august-grey]

I don't need your closure | chapter 13

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masterpost

July 1986

This was it. This was how Alice was going to die. Not at the hands of evil Russians miles below a shopping mall or torn to shreds by one of the multitude of monsters that plagued her little town. No, she was going to go out in the passenger seat of he mother’s Volvo, knuckles white around the handle on the door, foot punched down the invisible brake pedal. 

Fighting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, Alice contemplated the choices that led her to this moment. How had she gone from taking Dustin to an orthodontist appointment to fearing for her mortal wellbeing in a mostly empty strip-mall parking lot with her 15-year-old brother behind the wheel of their mother’s car? 

Alice looked over at the boy in question, his eyes wide and laser-focused on the pavement, and reminded herself why she was doing this. 

“So, I’m taking driver’s ed next year.” Dustin piped up from the passenger seat, his lisp a little more pronounced after getting his braces tightened.

“Oh yeah?” Dustin gave a grunt of affirmation. “Mr. Paulson still teaching that?”

“Uh-huh, I heard he’s brutal.” Alice nodded emphatically. That was putting it lightly. Dustin continued, “Lots of kids…they’re getting practice over the summer…just to get a head start, y’know? Mike’s and Lucas’ dads have taken them out a bunch. Mike’s even been on a real road already.”

“That’s not a bad idea, extra practice would definitely help. Paulson flunked me twice before I finally got my license. Just never really got a chance to practice after dad left and everything. Has mom taken…” She trailed off, a sudden realization dawning on her. No. Of course mom hadn’t had the time to take Dustin out to drive. Their mother barely had time to take care of herself let alone teach her anxious children to maneuver a vehicle.

Not for the first time, Alice found herself cursing her father. Don’t get her wrong, Alice was glad that her parents were divorced. Michael was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve anything her mother had to offer. She’d always known that her mother was too good for that sorry excuse of a human. Alice just wished he had found a scrap of humanity before abandoning his family, leaving them with nothing but a forwarding address and a promise to see his children at Christmas.

Alice hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when Christmas came and went without even a phone call, but Dustin…Dustin had been heartbroken. For months afterward he waited for their father to simply return. To change his mind, realize that he had made a mistake and come home to his family. The brief phone calls from Michael yielded empty promises of going for ice cream or baseball games, leaving Dustin disappointed again and again as plans fell through. 

Anger festered inside Alice, finally bubbling over one day as she sat with her little brother as he watched the sky darken out their front window, waiting for their father’s car to pull into the driveway for a belated birthday visit. Dustin’s thirteenth birthday had been three weeks prior, and the bastard still couldn’t be bothered to even give his son this small gift.

Down the hall, Alice heard her mother leave yet another message for her ex-husband. He wasn’t coming, Alice had a feeling from the beginning. Knowing this didn’t make the situation any easier. A small shake of their mother’s head when she returned to the living room was all it took for Dustin’s resolve to crumple. Running into his mother’s arms, he buried his face into her chest, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. 

Alice needed to hit something. Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She wasn’t going to let her father get away with hurting her brother like that. Not again. While the rest of her family was distracted, Alice smuggled her mom’s car keys out of her purse and drove the three hours to their father’s new bachelor pad, stopping only to grab a birthday card from a random drug store. 

Michael could only stare at his daughter, open-mouthed, as she shoved the card into his hands, demanding he sign it for Dustin. He did so, hastily shoving a few twenties in the envelope for good measure. Then he had the gall to ask Alice how she was doing. Ignoring his question completely, Alice simply told her father to either make a real effort to have a relationship with his son or to leave them the hell alone. 

She couldn’t remember the half-excuse he had spluttered out as she left him in the doorway, but she did remember crying the entire ride home. She remembered the look on Dustin’s face as she pressed the card into his hands and being grounded for a week for disappearing with her mother’s car for seven hours on a school night. She remembered being the one to step up in her father’s place. Taking Dustin to school and to extracurriculars, helping her mother with home repairs, picking up extra chores around the house. 

And now, she supposed, she was going to have to teach her father’s youngest how to drive.

***

“Okay, now slowly—“ Dustin slammed the brakes at the edge of the lot, jolting Alice forward in her seat. She took a calming breath before gently correcting him as he turned the wheel, taking the car down the row of shopfronts. “Try to ease into the stops, Dusty. Gently press the brake as you’re coming up to the—oh Jesus.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He exclaimed, shifting the direction of the car after coming a little too close to the curb. “This is awful, how do you do this every day without feeling like you’re going do murder someone with this death-machine?”

“You just have to…I don’t know…give it time and you kinda become one with the death-machine?” Her brother shot her a quick, bewildered glance. “Does that make sense? It gets easier with practice, I promise. Just…try to relax.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He groaned miserably, braking a little too hard again in the back corner of the lot. Fumbling around the console in a panic, he flipped on the turn signal, then the windshield wipers. “At this rate I’ll never be comfortable behind the wheel and I’ll never get my license and...and— Alice, how do I put this stupid thing in park?!”

“Calm down, you’re fine.” She reached over, moving the shifter into park and turning off the ignition. As soon as he was able to release the brake, Dustin threw himself from the Volvo. Alice rolled her eyes at his dramatics and exited the vehicle herself. “You’re not going to be amazing right away, Dustin. It’s going to take time. We’ll go out more once I get my car back and you’ll be a pro by the end of the summer. Paulson won’t know what hit him.”

Dustin didn’t look convinced. He leaned against the hood of the yellow Volvo and buried his face in his hands. Alice felt a little out of her depth; she was usually the one freaking out in every situation. Her brother was normally overly confident in nearly everything he did. He’d thrown himself into countless dangerous situations without a second thought; seeing him freak out over driving of all things was disconcerting to say the least. 

“Are you hungry? We can stop for burgers or something?” Food. If there was anything that could distract Alice from an anxiety spiral, it was a good, greasy meal. Surely that would work on her brother, too.

He shook his head glumly, looking forlornly across the parking lot. “Nah, my mouth is still sore from the orthodontist.”

Alice sighed. She didn’t like it, but she had one last idea that could bring up his mood, even just for the moment. 

“You wanna stop in RadioShack before heading home?” That got his attention. Shooting Alice a Cheshire grin, Dustin took off across the pavement toward the electronics store.

She trailed behind him, shouting, “You have twenty minutes! Any longer and you’re walking home!”

***

RadioShack had been a mistake. Sweat dripped down her neck as Alice glanced down at her watch; Dustin had been in the shop for nearly 45 minutes and she was slowly losing her mind. By the time she popped into the shop, Dustin had already been neck deep in whatever gadget he needed for his project of the week. 

Deciding she didn’t want to get roped into a one-sided conversation she couldn’t keep up with (she wasn’t feeling that generous), Alice picked up a small pack of batteries for her Walkman and left her brother muttering to himself over a display of tiny voice recorders. 

Five minutes. She’d give Dustin five more minutes and then she’d go in there and physically drag him out if she needed to. The midday sun emerged from behind a cloud, shining through the windshield and effectively blinding Alice. Make that two minutes.

“Alice?” Jumping at the sound of her name, Alice scanned the parking lot for a familiar face. The lot had become considerably more full than it was during Dustin’s impromptu driving lesson, but it didn’t take long to find the source of the voice before they flung themselves halfway through Alice’s open window, obscuring her vision with a mop of messy brown hair.

“Jesus, Robin, back up would ya?” Alice grasped her assailant by the shoulders and gently shoved her out of her personal bubble. Robin dropped to a crouch next to the car, so she was level with the open window, eyes wide and panicked.

“Thank god you’re here. Wait…why are you here? Y’know what nevermind, I’m in a crisis and I need you to talk me down.” 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Reaching for the handle of door, Alice gave the seemingly innocuous plaza a once over, searching for anything out of the ordinary or potentially dangerous. Robin rested a hand on her arm, drawing Alice’s attention back to her.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Robin took a deep breath, opened her mouth to speak again, and…stopped. Alice furrowed her brow and waited for the girl to speak. After a few long moments of silence, Alice gestured impatiently for Robin to continue. 

“I’ve been invited to a party.” She finally blurted out, expectantly looking to Alice for advice. 

“Okay.”

“By a girl.”

“Okay?”

“A specific girl.”

“…okay?”

“…a specific redheaded clarinetist with incredible taste in movies.”

“Oh! Oh my god, okay! When did this happen?”

“Just now, in the Rite-Aid tampon isle.” Robin stated miserably, popping up from her position by the door to pace the pavement. “So you see my problem, now!”

“Uh no, am I missing something?” Taking her chances with the angry July sun, Alice exited the blessed cover of the car as she watched her friend frantically pace the length of the adjacent parking space. “You like Vickie. This is good news, Robin!”

“No, Alice, this is an absolute nightmare!”  Robin stopped to run both of her hands through her hair, making her bangs stick up in perfectly odd angles to add to the slightly manic aura she was giving off. “Before this moment, Vickie had been purely a hypothetical. I could daydream all I want, but now, now…this is real life. She asked me to a party. And what’s going to happen, huh? I’m going to make a fool of myself and word vomit all over her and she’ll be horrified and I’ll be arrested for…for something. I’m sure I’ll deserve it at that point.”

Alice shook her head in disbelief. What was up with everyone today? First Dustin with his driving lesson, now Robin was having a complete meltdown on her watch. It was only a matter of time, she supposed, seeing as both Robin and Dusin had dealt with their fair share of Alice’s neuroticism. The least she could do was return the favor.

“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we? You’re not cut out for prison, no offence.” Alice stepped forward, reaching up to smooth Robin’s hair back to its normal state of messiness. Once she was satisfied, Alice settled her hands on the taller girl’s shoulders. “You just need backup, a wingman. We can make it a group thing. You, me, and Vickie.”

“That’s not a group, that’s you getting drunk and awkwardly chaperoning me like some sort of messed up, regency-era courting ritual, all while I desperately try not to make a fool of myself in front of a cute girl.” Robin mumbled through pursed lips. Though Robin wasn’t wrong, Alice didn’t exactly enjoy being reduced to nothing more than a bumbling overseer. As much as she wanted to help Robin, third-wheeling all night wasn’t necessarily Alice’s idea of a good time. 

She had an idea; whether it was a good one or not was the nagging question in the back of her mind. Briefly, Alice considered the last disastrous party she’s attended in Hawkins. It had been the precursor to what was possibly the worst night of her life, if you don’t take all of the the literal horrors and death she’d experienced over the past few years into account.

The night she was sure she’d lost her best friend. For good.

It’s different now, she reasoned with herself. She and Steve were on good terms; well on their way to friendship again. And though she didn’t yet have the full story of what had happened that night…or what had led to it, Alice could at least hope it wouldn’t happen again. There was only one way to find out, she supposed.

“I can, uh, askstevetogo.” Alice mumbled, half-heartedly tossing out the thought before she could stop herself. It wasn’t as if she was looking for an excuse to see him or anything, it just made sense. They are all friends. Friends go to parties together. As friends. “Then it’ll be a real group. Make things less weird, y’know?”

Robin’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she shimmied out of Alice’s grip. “Oh, no, no. You can’t just say something like that and not elaborate. Did you and Steve make up?”

“Kinda? We’re…talking. It’s not a big deal.”  Robin seemed unimpressed, to say the least. Alice knew the girl wasn’t going to let her get away with that bullshit answer, and with a sigh, launched into an abridged version of what had happened with Sudsy. How she and Steve had ended up babysitting together, how Alice had emotionally blown up and confronted him, and then the subsequent, tentative makeup.

Obviously, making up with Steve was, in fact, a big deal to Alice. The past week had been the happiest she’d felt in months, and as much as she hated to admit it, that had a lot to do with Steve Harrington. True to his word, Steve hadn’t pressured Alice into anything since their conversation the previous weekend. To no one’s surprise, especially Alice’s, it took less than a day before she found herself eager to see him again. 

So, after harassing Dustin for Steve’s new phone number, she called him. He sounded pleased, but genuinely surprised to hear from her so soon. The palpable fondness in his voice combined with the itch to be within arms reach of him again, was how she found herself inviting Steve to take a walk with her. 

For safety purposes, of course. 

You see, Alice had a new client. A big, goofy Great Dane, who needed to be walked while her human worked overnights. Normally Alice wouldn’t think twice before declining the job; she and the dark didn’t really get along after everything she had been through. But this particular client had offered double her regular fee just to feed the dog dinner and take her on a quick walk before bed.

Alice couldn’t refuse the easy money, but that still left the problem of having to be outside. In the dark. Alone. She sucked it up the first night, walked the half-mile to the clients house, took the pup around the block while her nerves spiked, and finally ended up sprinting home after making sure the dog was safely in bed, the plan to call Steve already on her mind.  

As she predicted, he eagerly agreed to accompany her the next night. And then the next, and the next…until they fell into an easy, somewhat familiar, routine. Steve would pick her up at 8:30 on the dot, they’d take care of the dog, and then just sit and talk until Steve had to get himself to bed for work the next day. Sometimes Dustin would join them, if he wasn’t off galavanting with his Dungeons and Dragons club or messing with machines in his bedroom. But, mostly, it was just the two of them.

He followed her lead at every turn. Never pushing for anything more than what Alice was comfortable with giving, keeping a respectable distance. Alice, on the other hand, was having an incredibly hard time sticking to her own boundaries. Despite her reservations, Alice physically couldn’t keep herself away from Steve. It was like that night babysitting Holly had broke open a dam in Alice’s brain. 

Steve Harrington loved her. 

Just the thought alone was hard for Alice to wrap her mind around. Truthfully, she was scared. Hell, Alice was terrified. And still justifiably angry on top of it all. Months of convincing herself to turn her hurt into hate couldn’t be washed away so easily. No matter how badly she wanted to believe that Steve was truly repentant and wanted to make things right with her, Alice couldn’t shake the feeling that although everything between them was going well now didn’t necessarily mean it wouldn’t go to shit just as quickly. 

But in spite of it all, it was just so easy to fall back into an familiar rapor with her former best friend. It was a more than little unnerving how effortlessly Steve had fit back into her life and, even moreso, how badly she wanted him to stay there.

***

“So, yeah. We’re talking. That’s it.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“Steve’s in love with you.”

“Apparently.”

“You’re in love with Steve?”

“I…yeah. I guess am.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Shit, Alice.”

Alice couldn’t agree more; shit.

***

Alice’s mother dropped her off at Robin’s house a full two hours early, at the younger girl’s request. Well…it sounded more like a panicked demand over the phone than a polite request, but Alice was willing to overlook that tiny detail. Either way, she was grateful for an excuse after Claudia had offered to drive the girls to the party itself. As much as she loved and appreciated her mom, that simply wouldn’t do.

“No, seriously, it’s okay, Mom!” Alice attempted to dissuade her mother. “It’s only a ten minute walk from Robin’s. You don’t want to drive all the way back out here in just to drive us less than a mile up the road.”

Reluctantly, Claudia agreed that the girls could take care of themselves, and left Alice and her overnight bag at Robin’s. She waited until her daughter was safely inside before waving and backing out of the driveway. 

In the time it took for Alice to arrive, Robin’s bedroom had descended into absolute chaos. Ninety percent of the time they had before the party was spent digging through the chaos that was Robin’s wardrobe, piecing together the perfectly casual, but not too casual because “then what if Vickie thinks I’m a slob! Don’t give me that look, you’re just as much a mess as I am,” outfit.

The other ten percent was taken up by relentless, teasing back-and-forth from both girls. It had started off with Alice clearly having the upperhand; gently mocking her friend as she tried on article after article of clothing. Alice was quite enjoying herself. That is, until it came time to talk to Steve about the party.

 In the end, it had been Robin who had called to recruit Steve as a secondary wingman and a ride home. It was stupid. The phone had been in Alice’s hand, she had dialed his number. His new number. The one for his fancy, independent, adult apartment. The first ring in her ear sent her stomach fluttering and her heart pounding, resulting in the phone being flung into a bewildered Robin’s hands.

Cooly recovering from Alice’s sudden panic, Robin had managed to convince Steve to meet them at the party. Alice hovered over her shoulder, ears straining to hear the other side of the conversation and chewing her pinky nail down to the nub. 

What was wrong with her? Alice chastised herself. She’d spoken to Steve on the phone quite literally hundreds of times. At least thrice that week alone. 

Inviting him to a party, though, somehow felt too much like she was back in middle school asking Matthew Miller to the Snowball, only to spend the night sulking on the bleachers after being stood up.

So, in true middle school fashion, it only made sense that she make her friend ask Steve, instead. Not that she thought Steve would stand her up. Because it wasn’t like this was a date or anything. This was merely a group outing with a couple of pals.

She’d never hear the end of it from Robin. 

***

The party itself was a docile thing, despite being packed with a couple dozen band nerds. The music was decent and the drinks were surprisingly good for a questionable concoction thrown together by a teenager. 

Robin zeroed in on Vickie the second they stepped through the door. When the redhead greeted both girls with a hug, Alice was impressed by how quickly Robin recovered from the close contact. 

As the night went on, much to Alice’s delight, it seemed that Robin’s initial apprehensions about the party were proving to be completely unnecessary. And though she was having a good time and was always glad to spend time with Robin, it really seemed like Alice’s presence was barely needed. 

It may have been the effervescent lighting on the dance floor or maybe the faint buzz of alcohol in her system, but Alice could swear Robin practically radiating confidence as she danced with the girls she had been pining over for months. Ever the dutiful friend, Alice swayed to the music with them, overthinking about what the correct amount of respectable distance would be. Not so close to the couple that she was invading their bubble, but not too far away to be unable to participate in conversation or miss any distress signals from Robin. 

Luckily for her, after some subtle comments from Robin, followed by a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs, Alice finally took the hint and excused herself. She counted this as a victory in staying firmly in wingman territory. There would be no outdated chaperoning tonight. 

Not quite sure what to do with herself after leaving the one person in the house she actually felt comfortable spending time with, Alice wandered through the festivities, stopping to chit chat with old classmates every so often. She certainly wasn’t looking for Steve. Not really. Was she disappointed he wasn’t there yet? Maybe, but mostly Alice just felt overwhelmed without someone to anchor her. 

In the end she parked herself on a couch in the den, only returning to the party proper to replenish her drink. It was quieter in there, and much less crowded than the main living areas. There were a few people playing scrabble at a card table in the middle of the room as movie played softly in the corner, a couple boys sprawled out on a rug in front of the the television, watching intently. This was definitely more her speed tonight. 

Unfortunately, despite being a refuge from the chaos, this was also how Alice found herself three and a half drinks deep, getting her ear talked off by goddamn Matthew Miller. Yes, that Matthew Miller. She had cursed herself by thinking of him earlier. It seemed Matthew had conveniently forgotten his eighth grade indiscretions. Sadly for him, Alice was excellent at holding a grudge, even through the pleasant, fuzzy haze of drunkenness. 

“Anyway, you’d be surprised by the kind of stuff you could get away with in college. No one cares, Henderson, you could do whatever you want.” Matthew had his arm stretched across the back of the couch, fingers lingering dangerously close to Alice’s shoulder. She clenched her plastic cup in her hand and stared straight ahead, willing someone, anyone, to save her from this conversation. Where the hell was Robin when she needed her? “And the girls, man. They’re nothing like high school chicks; everyone is just so open minded, y’know?”

“Mmhm.”

“Most of the them are just there looking for husbands, anyway, so it’s easier. That’s what Trevor says, anyway. You remember Trevor, right? He was french horn in high school, but we were roommates last semester, too. Anyway, it’s true though. These girls are just looking for someone to settle down and have babies with.”

Okay, that was quite enough of that. Alice threw the rest of her drink back, grimaced and finally turned toward Matthew with a withering scowl, preparing to lay into his insufferable, sexist ideas about women as a whole.

“First of all, you misogynistic prick, that’s—oh! ” Alice’s speech was slightly slurred, but not enough to hide the venom behind her words. Words that were all too suddenly cut off by the aforementioned prick making a bee-line for Alice’s lips, his eyes closed and mouth horrifyingly open. She threw herself backward into the arm of the couch at the last second, simultaneously pushing Matthew back into the cushions opposite her. “Oh, no thank you!”

The boy was clearly taken aback, or at the very least, not used to being turned down. “Are you sure? I thought we were having a moment!”

“What part of... of that ‘conversation’” Alice emphasized the word with some sloppy air quotes. “Made you think we were having a moment?! I might be drunk, but I’m not, like, random, regrettable hookup drunk, Trevor.”

“Matthew.” The boy corrected her with a glare. With practiced ease, he shifted his face into cool disinterest before plucking Alice’s empty cup from her hand. “I’m going to get us a refill. Maybe you’ll be a little nicer when I get back.”

Frowning deeply at his retreating back, Alice knew this was her chance to make a hasty departure. She just needed to get up. Which was easy, so easy. Or at least it would have been two drinks ago. The liquor had settled into her limbs, weighing her down like sandbags. It was fine, though. She just needed to flag down Robin to pull her out of the quicksand-like cushions that were sucking her deeper and deeper into the couch with every passing minute.

But where was Robin? Alice squinted her eyes, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd through the open doorway, but failed to spot either of the girls she’d been with earlier. This was also fine, surely someone had to know where they had disappeared off to. Triumph shot through Alice as she successfully caught the eye of a friendly face. She beaconed the familiar, fluffy-haired girl over.

“Kate. Kate listen, where is Robin?” 

“Hey Alice, you good?” Kate smiled down at her, amusement glinting in her eyes, before helpfully taking a quick look around the room. “I don’t really know, I’m sorry. I think she and Vickie were in the kitchen earlier, do you want me to go check?”

“You’re an angel, Kate, truly. A tumpeteer from the heavens.” The words tumbled from Alice’s mouth without filter. The lack of control should have mortified Alice, but she was well past the point of actually caring. Kate just chuckled, patted Alice on the head like a puppy, and made for the kitchen. 

No sooner did Alice’s ally disappear through one doorway, did her adversary emerge through another, a fresh plastic cup clutched in each hand. 

Shit. The time for games was over. Gathering every speck of willpower she possessed, Alice pushed herself up from the cavernous couch. Bad idea. Awful idea. She clutched the arm of the couch as the room moved around her, swaying and spinning like a carnival ride. Her stomach churned slightly. Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.

A hand appeared on her arm, steadying her. Instinctively, she swatted it away. Unfortunately, the sudden movement tipped Alice off balance just enough to send her falling back into the accursed couch. She glared up at her assailant, ready to lay into Matthew about touching her without consent. Oh. Not Matthew, then.

Steve, her knight in shining polo, loomed over her with bemusement etched into his features. A flash of annoyance coursed through her; where had he been an hour ago, before her night had started to go downhill? However, the feeling was quickly overshadowed by dread when she caught Matthew’s garish, caution-sign yellow t-shirt from the corner of her eye.

“Listen, I’m sorry I’m late, but you’re not going to believe the breakthrough I’ve had with Gladys—“

“Sit down,” she whispered to Steve, cutting him off as Matthew drew ever closer. Without a second thought, Steve slid into the seat next to Alice, side-eyeing the approaching figure. Alice clutched his arm, pulling him close like a human shield, as if she could camouflage herself with Steve’s considerably larger stature. “Pretend you’re talking to me.”

“Pretend to—we were talking, Alice. Until you rudely interrupted me.” Alice laughed loudly, tossing her head in the direction of where Matthew awkwardly hovered nearby, his shins bumping on the corner of the crowded coffee table. Steve snuck a peek, taking in the boy fumbling with the red cups in his hands, and nodded to signify he understood the situation. 

“Ah, I see. Okay, what angle are we going with here? The usual?” 

“Nuh uh, our moms work together. Dead grandma isn’t going to work.”

“What about my dead grandma?”

“Maybe. Can you even pull that off?”

“You underestimate me, Henderson.” Alice bit back a smirk as Steve took the challenge to heart. Without any sort of preamble he turned and pressed his forehead into her shoulder. Sliding his hand into hers, he gripped her fingers tightly and put in his best effort into looking the part of a grief-stricken man.

Alice froze.

For the first time, Alice was thankful for the alcohol that dulled her senses. Her heart fluttered as she tried not to think about the way his breath felt on her neck as he buried his face into her shoulder. Or the way the hard plane of his torso pressed into her own, or how it nearly took her breath away. 

Alice took a second to compose herself. You’re a goddamn professional, she scolded herself. This was a tried and true act, one that she and Steve had played out at least half a dozen times before to get out many an awkward encounter, though it was usually her amping up the dramatics. The proximity meant nothing, and Alice had better remember that. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d never been that close before. Closer, she recalled, heat pooling in her stomach. 

It had just been so long. 

But she could think about that later. Instead of lingering on feeling the heat of his skin on her body, she focused on the performance at hand. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Matthew finally piped up after what felt like an eternity of fake-comforting Steve as he fake-cried into the light cardigan she’d thrown over her tank top earlier in the evening. Alice glowered at him incredulously as she rubbed a comforting hand up and down Steves back. He was good, maybe too good. A wicked thought crossed her mind. Lets see how well he could do with this one.

“Shh, his guinea pig just died.” She hissed. Steve stiffened a bit, thrown off by Alice’s plot twist. She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping cool. “Show a little respect, Miller.”

“Damn, Harrington, I’m sorry man. Here,” Matthew deposited both cups of god-knows-what concoction, on the table before them.  “Have a drink for…for—“

“Henrietta.” Alice supplied, helpfully. 

“For Henrietta.” Matthew nodded and clapped Steve on the shoulder before hurrying away as quickly as his feet could take him. Once he was safely out of sight, Alice couldn’t hold back the peals of laughter. Steve took the moment to collect himself, smoothing back his hair and wiping the non-existent tears from his face. 

“Guinea pig?” Steve spluttered, shaking his head in disbelief. 

She shrugged helplessly. “You were so convincing, though, Steve! Why didn’t you ever try out for the school plays? We never had enough boys, they would have eaten you up.”

“Just another one of my many unrealized talents. Come on, lets go find the lovebirds. They’re around here somewhere.” He chuckled, rising from his seat. Offering a hand to Alice, he pulled her up with minimal effort. She felt steady enough on her feet to follow him through the house, but not before swiping her drink from the coffee table. 

 ***

“And then! After giving me all this bullshit about how these college girls are all so eager to throw themselves at him, he decides its a perfect time to go for it. Mouth. Wide. Open.”

“Please, tell me you’re kidding.” Robin and Vickie sat shoulder-to-shoulder on one of the few lounge chairs scattered across the backyard, twin expressions of disgust etched across their faces. Alice was sprawled across the foot of a shared lounge chair herself. Steve had somehow managed to fold himself onto a tight ball of limbs on the other half, leaving plenty of room for Alice to gesticulate wildly as she recounted every gory detail of her run-in with Matthew.

“I swear he like, unhinged his jaw or something.” Alice cackled, shifting her body to lean more of her weight onto Steve’s bent legs. At this point, she was sure he was the only thing keeping her upright. To his credit, he merely shifted to accommodate her, untangling himself slightly so that he could sprawl his legs out on either side of her. Alice took the opportunity to claim space of her own, scooting back to nestle her shoulder against his chest, while keeping her body angled to carry on her conversation. 

Sober Alice would have never, not in a million years. But drunk Alice was an entirely different story. She reveled in the easy way Steve slipped an arm around her waist, hooking his thumb through the belt loop on her hip. The action didn’t go unnoticed to the girl across from her, either. Robin caught Alice’s eye and gave a wink. Alice tried, and failed, to hide a grin. 

“Anyway, then Steve finally showed up, but Henrietta died and he started crying, which we all know is the ultimate boy repellent, so s’all good now.” 

“Wait, who’s Henrietta?” Vickie piped up, looking concerned by the mention of someone dying. 

“Steve’s guinea pig.” Alice yawned behind her hand, before resting her head on her folded knees. “But don’t worry, I’m not even a hundred percent sure she even existed.”

“She definitely never existed, you nerd.” Steve’s chest rumbled as he spoke, chuckling softly. 

The conversation drifted to movies and Alice’s altered state-of-mind had a hard time keeping up with titles and actors. Despite her lack of ability to make a mental contribution, Alice was overjoyed to see Robin so open and totally herself around Vickie. If anyone deserved to be in a happy relationship, it was Robin. Alice knew she couldn’t come close to understanding the nuances of being in Robin’s shoes, but she certainly knew the sting of unrequited love. 

Though, she supposed, her’s wasn’t really unrequited, now was it? Did it still count as unrequited if the feelings had actually been requited all along, but the other party had chosen to be an ass about them for the better part of a year instead of talking about said feelings? Either way, Alice felt a strong kinship with Robin in the whole romance department. 

Head swimming, Alice decided that last drink had been a bad idea. To her credit, she’d only drank half of it before a moment of clarity had her switching to bottled water, but it was enough to push her just a bit too far over her usual limit. Enough to completely disregard any and all inhibitions, but also, as it turned out, enough to make her very, very sleepy. 

The fourth time Alice’s head slipped from it’s perch, Steve let out a heavy sigh, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tighter into himself. Alice gave up trying to keep herself up and settled fully against his chest, letting her eyes drift shut. 

Everything about this was against Alice’s better judgement, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of how right it felt. The buttons of his shirt digging into her cheek, how his breath ruffled her hair as he dipped his head to whisper in her ear.

“Maybe it’s time to get you home, huh?” Alice’s eyes snapped open and forced herself upright. Absolutely not; there was no way she was about to cut Robin’s night short because she got a little too drunk and couldn’t keep her eyes open. 

“Nope, can’t go home.” She mumbled sleepily, pulling the front of her cardigan to wrap around her body a bit tighter to ward off the chilly night air.

“…why not?”

“Two reasons Stephen,” Alice held up a lazy finger, ticking off the first. “Number one; look at Robin.”

Steve grumbled but did as he was told, fixing his gaze on Robin, who was now visibly uncomfortable with the sudden attention Alice brought to her.

“When was the last time you saw Robin have a good time at a party?”

“I have tons of fun at parties all the time, Alice!” Robin protested from her chair. 

“Exactly. I’m not going to make her leave a nice time just so she could lay in bed listening to me snore all night.”

“I can take Robin home later.” Vickie nervously interjected, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “If that’s what you want, I mean. No pressure, it’s just…I’m having a nice time too.”

Robin visibly lit up at the prospect of actual Alone Time with her long-term crush. She nodded enthusiastically, a blush creeping up her neck. Alice flashed her what she hoped was a subtle thumbs up, which in hindsight was maybe a bit too subtle even for its intended recipient. Embarrassed, she tucked her hand back into her sweater.

“Oh, perfect. That problem was solved…quickly. Anyway, third of—“

“Second?”

“Second of all…I can’t go home drunk. My mom will cry and it’ll lead Dustin down a…a dark path of drugs and alcohol. You guys know the kid, there very impressionable at that age.” 

“That doesn’t seem likely.”

“You don’t know that. I just…I don’t like them seeing me like this. So I can…I’ll sleep it off on this lawn chair, I guess. If you don’t mind scooting…” She leaned forward as far as she could, giving Steve a chance to get up. He swung his long legs over the side of the lounge and hesitated, a brief flash of inner conflict crossed his face as he considered something.

“Or…”

“Or?”

“Or I can take you back to my place and you can sober up there.”

Alice clapped a hand over her speeding heart, face heating to what was sure sure to be a low-grade fever. What was this kid playing at? 

“Mr. Harrington, I think we’ve established I’m not that kind of girl!” She managed to choke out after her pulse calmed. 

“Jesus Christ, Alice, not like that!” He spluttered, taking a few steps back as though to put some distance between himself and Alice. Robin dissolved into a fit of mad laughter, completely ignoring the icy glare Steve shot in her direction. He placed his hands on his hips, looking absolutely exasperated by both girls. “I just figured my couch would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than a hard plastic chair, but if that’s what you’d prefer then by all means—“

“No, no! That’s…that’s actually super nice of you, Steve.” Alice tried to recover, feeling a small pang of guilt through the alcohol. She had misunderstood, of course Steve was just trying to help. That’s just what they did; they took care of each other. 

“Listen, don’t feel obligated or anything, it was just a suggestion. I can just as easily let you sleep right here, or take you to Robin’s, or to back to your house to corrupt Dustin. Just wanted you to have options, is all.” Steve rambled as Alice leant over to fish her purse from underneath the lounge. Stumbling clumsily to her feet, she looped her arm around Steve’s to regain some balance.

“Do you have snacks?”

“Ok, I’ve changed my mind. You’re not allowed in my home.” 

“Can we stop somewhere to get snacks?”

“Will you behave yourself if I say yes?”

“I can’t make any promises.”

[jeffgoldblumsmulletinthe90s]

Fic: Literal Legend

So @lurkinmerkin wrote this fantastic Stranger Things fic that you should absolutely read right now if you enjoy things like “Eddie Munson,” “fun,” and “reading about pussy eating.” It’s called Cuff It, like the Beyoncé song.

I was like, “Wow, this is amazing! I would love a fic like this about Steve Harrington eating a bunch of girls’ pussies.” And then Merkin gave me the OK, so I did write that fic.

It’s Literal Legend, like the Ayesha Erotica song. (Because Cuff It reminded me of lyrics “Here’s twenty dollars ... you know what? keep the change”)

[pencilscratchins]

i have reached the part of the steddie hyperfixation where i make them domesticated men in their 50s. having a blast! (twitter) [ID in ALT text]

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking about steve in that first scene in nancys bedroom back in season one. thinking about how goofy and flirty and charming and playful he was being. thinking about him being like that with eddie, and how eddie would react to that version of steve. the whole talking in a silly voice, acting as that stuffed bear, the whole “bad steve :( don’t do that to miss nancy :( “ and “you are beautiful nancy wheeler”.

eddie plays dnd, even more so, he DMs dnd games, he stands up on tables in cafeterias and makes big theatrical scenes to rant about issues he has strong stances on — that man knows how to put on a show, and enjoys to watch one too. see: immediately accepting erica into hellfire as a replacement after seeing her go on one of her tangents, showing off her attitude and how she isn’t afraid to get in your face to get her way. he LOVESS that shit. lives for it. seeks it out. so when steve starts getting like that around him he would just crumble immediately i just know it.

[ikarakie]

one of the known, undisputed rules of riding in steve harrington's car: passenger seat gets music privileges.

if you brought your own tape, and won the usually vicious battle for shotgun, there was a 100% chance that the drive would be backed with music of your choice. hell, there was even a small collection growing in steve's glove box of music that wasn’t his, because people left them behind either on accident or on purpose. no one really knew what steve liked to listen to- maybe minus robin- but he always seemed happy with whatever the passenger put in.

until one day, when dustin and lucas and mike climbed into his car. dustin had won passenger seat privileges, after a rather tense game of rock, paper, scissors, and instantly reached for the tape player.

steve smacked his hand down. "paws off, henderson." he scolded, not unkindly. all three kids stared at him like he'd grown a third limb as he pulled out of the wheeler's driveway. electric guitar played at a semi-low volume.

"what the hell?!" dustin squawked. "why can't i change the tape?" steve rolled his eyes, fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the beat on the wheel. none of the kids recognised the song, and it certainly didn't seem the kind of thing steve harrington would willingly listen to.

"is it so surprising i want to listen to my own tape in my car?" steve asks. dustin shouts an affronted, 'YES!' to which steve just shakes his head and continues driving.

the man on the track sings over heavy drums and guitar, talking about how he needed someone to 'show me the things that make true happiness' and 'he must be blind.' then, there's a guitar solo that steve smiles at.

"who are you?" mike asked, suspicious. "what did you do with our steve?"

"oh, shut up, wheeler." steve meets his eye in the rearview mirror. "next one to complain loses tape privileges for their next three turns."

that does shut them up. they make idle conversation over a couple more songs before they pull up to their destination. mostly threatening each other over high scores and making bets. steve waves them off with the usual 'don't be stupid' lecture and pulls out of the arcade parking lot, the bass of whatever the next track had been audible even through his closed doors and windows.

after that, steve retains ownership of his stereo every now and then, always playing some form of heavy metal. it just becomes the norm, though never fails to confound whoever's in the car. (because, seriously? polo shirt wearing steve harrington and heavy metal?)

they only ever hear anyone else listen to it after they join hellfire. eddie invites them to his trailer to create their characters together, and when they walk in one of the songs from that dumb tape is playing from a record in the corner.

"woah! you like this music too?" lucas asks. eddie nods excitedly.

"yeah, man! you a fan?" his smile dims a little when lucas shakes his head, but dustin is quick to jump in.

"our friend steve is always listening to a dumb mixtape with this sorta stuff on it." he explains, missing how eddie's eyes light up and his smile turns a little bashful. "he used to let us play whatever we want, but ever since he got that tape he makes us listen to it sometimes when he drives us around."

"well," eddie sighs, fiddling with one of his chunky silver rings. "seems this steve knows someone with very good taste in music." there's a warm look in his eyes before he claps his hands and diverts their attention to the character sheets he printed out.

later that night, steve gets a call.

"you told me you only listened to that tape once." the voice on the other end drawls. it's low and teasing, but it's undercut with obvious wonder and fondness. steve doesn't even bother pretending to be confused.

"well, it's good." (it makes me think of you) he replies, like it pains him. eddie giggles, and steve eyes the tape in question. sat on his bedside table, 'for my stevie' scrawled across it in eddie's neatest handwriting. shitty little hearts drawn around his name and an even shittier skull at the end. "how'd you know?"

"recognised my mötörhead record." eddie coos, "told me how you revoke their music privileges to listen to it." a pause. "you're so fucking cute."

steve can't help the dorky smile that spreads over his face. the way he twirls the phone cord like a fucking lovesick loser. he cracks a joke about making eddie a mixtape featuring the likes of duran duran and tears for fears, which makes him fake retch. they chat for a little while longer, whispering 'i love you's through the phones like it was their first time saying it.

the tape stays firmly in the bmw's music rotation.

[eddiesnipple]

Steve got the nickname The Hair because he liked getting his hair tugged when he went down on people.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

new hs history teacher(/basketball coach ofc) steve who is being shown around the school by gym teacher chrissy.

she takes him around the building to show him where the teacher's lounge is, the cafeteria, what bathrooms to avoid at all costs, and to where her office is if he ever needs anything.

"If I'm not here, I'm probably in Robbie's class over in the language department."

"Robbie?"

"Robin, my partner. She officially teaches ASL, but she likes to join in on the others' lessons whenever she has downtime."

Finally, once they've covered the whole length of the school, she brings him to his room. "So this is you, and right next door is Eddie, our Criminalistics teacher." gesturing to the still-dark window of the door directly across from his in the alcove. 

There's polaroids covering nearly every inch of the outside of the door, pictures of what he can only assume are students with the same dark-haired man.

"Criminalistics?"

"It's a science elective," she explains, "It focuses on the basics of forensic science!"

"Wow that’s…really?"

She nods enthusiastically, "It’s super interesting,” she nods, moving to unlock the empty what-will-be history classroom. “Eddie’s here on even days, and in the music room on odd days for the guitar elective classes."

"Anything I should know about my wall neighbor?" he asks as she pushes the door open.

It looks like she's going to say no, but something flickers across her face and she winces minutely.

"Oh god, what is it?"

She looks at him sheepishly, "How do you feel about metal music?"

--

Since his tour in mid June, Steve's completely overhauled his classroom. 

The only room available to him was the one down here in the science hall, but he made do, plastering removable whiteboard contact paper to the tops of the lab tables and a little reminder at each spot for the students about his less-than-stellar hearing, to make sure they speak up when answering a question from the back of the room.

And ever since he got his room, he'd been waiting for the day he finally meets his neighbor.

He met Chrissy's Robbie the same day he had the tour, and they clicked instantly (No seriously, how did he ever function before Robin?). Chrissy had made the comment about them being platonic soulmates one night in August when they'd gone out for one too many drinks, and it's stuck ever since.

Speaking of: "What are you still doing here, dingus? It's almost five."

"Yeah, I know, I know," he says, waving her off.

Robin comes in from the hall and plops herself down on one of the table tops instead of helping him hang a map behind his desk. "You're still adding stuff to your walls?"

"Well, I haven't been here for a couple years already, Bobs," he grits out as he stretches up on his toes to hang the far corner of his map. Finally, the eyelet hooks over the many-times-painted-over hook embedded in the concrete wall. "So yes."

"Well you can finish up tomorrow, we," she emphasizes the word by dramatically waving the same sign with her hand between them, "Have a burger date to get to." 

--

The following day, the day before the school year officially starts, Steve arrives early to his classroom, only to find his neighbor's classroom lit up as well.

The be-polaroided door is propped open all the way, the sound of heavy drums and guitar streaming out the door along with the faint smell of moth balls and a spicy incense.

His own room forgotten, Steve steps through Mr. Munson's doorway.

Eddie is standing behind his desk at the front of the room, but hunched over it scribbling onto something.

When Steve's shoe squeaks against the tile floor, Eddie says "Hey, what do you think, identifying skeletal remains, or blood spatter first?" without looking up at him.

"Skeletons, of course." Eddie's head snaps up to look at him. His huge dark eyes are much more striking in person than in a photo. "Much more interesting, yeah?"

Eddie blinks at him. "You're not Chrissy."

"You're correct."

Eddie blinks again, "Who're you?"

"Oh, sorry, hi. I'm Steve. I'm your new neighbor." he gives the other man an awkward wave when he still doesn't move. "Sorry, should I--" he says, gesturing over his shoulder with a thumb.

"No!" Eddie interrupts, standing straight and hurrying out from around his desk. 

He extends a hand and jogs lightly up to Steve. His pen is still laced into his fingers, the end of it chewed flat. "Oh shit, sorry, sorry," he tucks the pen behind his ear, "I'm Eddie. Munson."

"I know," Steve smirks, taking Eddie's hand. "I've been waiting to meet you."

"Oh have you?" he smirks.

"Yeah, Chrissy told me you're her best friend and I wanted your advice on maybe asking her out."

Eddie's face hardens immediately, the warm milk chocolate of his eyes curing into a solid dark, the easy smirk morphing into a cringe as he looks Steve up and down.

He opens his mouth to say something particularly scathing, Steve's sure, but he cuts him off before he can. "I'm kidding, man, I know she's with Robin."

His expression softens just a bit.

"Plus, she's not really my type anyway, even if I were hers."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I'm more into brunettes." Steve winks, finally releasing Eddie's hand. "I still have a bit more to get done, but I'll check in with you later?"

"Oh--yeah, for sure, I'll be here." Eddie stammers out, his cheeks tinged pink.

Steve fist pumps in his head as he heads to his door, You still got it, Harrington.

[manwrre]

steve: you’re the most jealous man i know.

billy: you know other men?

[ash5monster01]

Not Just The Books

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, no use of Y/N, smut, nudity, language, fluff, friends to lovers, minors DNI.

Summary: Steve catches you reading a smutty book and before the embarrassment can settle in you realize he is more interested in doing the stuff in the book with you.

word count: 3.5k

Masterlist

It was not uncommon for you and Steve to be able to sit in silence comfortably. Sometimes having the presence of a friend while you did different things was so much better than being alone. So you both sat comfortably in his living room, you in the easy chair, lamp on to illuminate your book, and him in the center of the couch, slumped down, as he watched whatever was on TV. The sound didn’t bother you as you read, you normally were in another world, not noticing the things around you. So even though Steve had the TV blaring with the hearing of a Grandpa, you didn’t even mind, the TV could explode and you wouldn’t notice. Thing was Steve always noticed you, even if his favorite movie was on TV.

So when he spotted you uncrossing your legs it peaked his interest. You still hadn’t torn your eyes from the book to see he had noticed your movement. Steve had almost turned away until he saw you had pressed your legs together, your teeth capturing your bottom lip. His heart accelerated slightly because he knew that kind of movement. He had caused many of girls that kind of movement, so when you started to shift in your seat, your breaths coming out in smaller pants he realized there was something more to the book you had tightly gripped in your hands. You still didn’t even flinch as Steve stood and walked over to you, in fact you couldn’t even tear your eyes from the page as he quite literally did it for you.

“Steve!” you screeched and he quickly noticed how dilated your eyes were, how fast your chest rose with each breath. You looked like a woman starved.

“Since when do books make you act like that” Steve teased, eyebrows raised highly and you felt the embarrassment burn through you.

“Please give me my book back” you begged, hand out, waiting for him to hand it over.

“You know, normally I would” and the panic started to set in as he turned the book towards himself. Steve never attempted to read your books. Why now?

“Please Steve!” you we’re quick, lunging towards him, but he was quicker. Your voice was rough, all worked up, and no one had even touched you.

“It’s always Steve you need to read more, when was the last time you opened a book, and now you don’t want me too?” he knew he was getting under your skin and you just prayed he woundn't read the page you were on. If there was some higher power out there they would keep him from reading that page right now.

“Just not that book, I was enjoying it” even Steve could hear how uncomfortable you sounded as you said it. It was as if you were trying to get him to cough it up without knowing what was so interesting about it.

“Well, I want to see what’s so good” and just like that his eyes dipped down and you launched for him. Yet Steve escaped your grasp, running across the room, and leaping onto the couch where he stood. Book now face open and you got to watch him read it in real time, like he was on a stage.

Claire panted out heavy breaths, skin on fire everywhere he left a wet love bite and blew on it. She tried to steady her breathing but as his wet kisses trailed down her stomach, finishing on the waist band of her shorts, she couldn’t quite seem to stop the breaths that came out.

Slowly his fingers curled into her waistband and she lifted her hips to make it easier, a silent conformation that what he was doing was okay. As the cool air of the bedroom hit her dripping core she couldn’t help but whimper over the thought of him burying himself between her folds.

“So perfect” he spoke, his tongue darting out to take a small taste. “And sweet”

Then just like that he was devouring her completely. So fast her back arched without her knowledge, pressing into him as he deliciously lapped up everything he could. Eating her out better than anyone ever had, and as his nose nudged against her clit she couldn’t help but begin to feel the coil tighten in her stomach. He had barely done anything and she was already ready to cum.

“Holy shit” Steve muttered, dropping his arms that held the book as he looked down at you from the couch. Very much unable to meet his eyes as he realized exactly what you were reading.

“Can I have my book back now?” you nervously asked, arm rubbing up and down your other one. Steve jumped back down to the ground. Trying to regain your gaze.

“Want to explain this to me?” he asked, holding it over and you quickly snatched it back.

“Not particularly” you now hyper aware of exactly how alone the two of you were right now.

“You like to read dirty books” he chuckled like a little kid and finally you dared to glance up at him only to see a smug look on his face, like he obtained information he was going to hold over your head for years to come.

“Most girls do Steve” you hissed attempting to hit him with the book but he quickly stopped you, his head coming to a shake.

“Whatever you say, it just looked like you were really enjoying it. I’d never seen you so…” he paused, trying to think of a word, and your heart accelerated. Thumping quickly against your ribs and you prayed he couldn’t hear it. “Worked up”

You sucked in a sharp breath as he said it and the air around you turned heavy. This had gone from embarrassing to mortifying because not only did you get caught reading about sex but you got caught for it turning you on. Steve had noticed you were turned on and now you wished he didn’t notice you even existed. “Can we not talk about this, I was acting like I always do”

“That’s a lie, you wouldn’t move while reading even if a tornado came through here but you couldn’t even sit still. You were needy and I know it because I’ve seen it a hundred times” now you were red as a fire truck and Steve was enjoying this way too much. Yet he was also getting turned on which he shouldn’t have because it’s you. His longest and oldest friend, the one he can be completely comfortable with but now he wanted to know exactly how wet you were from that stupid book and he wanted to see if he could get you wetter.

“Ah yes, King Steve, ruler of sex. Can’t take a hint but knows when a girl is turned on” you told him sarcastically, annoyed he insisted on embarrassing you further.

“So you admit to being turned on?” he said with a smirk and you rolled your eyes with a groan.

“My God give it a break, yes I was turned on, is that what you want to hear?” you asked him and as you let out heavy breaths and waited for him to give a sarcastic answer it never came. Instead he stared you down, like you admitting this suddenly made you a four course meal. Steve had never looked at you like this and now you were nervous all over again but about an entirely different thing.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you nervously asked, attempting to back away from him because now the foot and half between you two was way too close.

“I’m not doing anything” he told you, stepping towards you to shorten the distance again and you wished he hadn’t of done it because now Steve was replacing the guy in the book for you.

“Yes you are, you’re looking at me like you want to kiss me” you said, trying to make it sound like a joke but even to you is sounded nervous. Steve just tilted his head, eyeing you up and down completely.

“It looks like that because I do want to kiss you” how was he so comfortable talking to you like this? You had never crossed this line before and now you wanted him to touch you and stay away all at the same time. “So can I kiss you?”

“I uh, I I..-“ you stammered, unsure how you went from peacefully ignoring each other to the edge of the line. If you say yes you would give him a reason to cross it and that was a lot of responsibility for a person.

“I need an answer sweetheart, because I really really want to kiss you” he spoke slowly and you swallowed hard, still turned on from the book and now a little turned on by him.

“Uh yeah, I-I guess” you told him and a grin cracked across his face and before you could say anything more his hands were on your face and drawing your lips near his own. He waited a minute before pressing them to yours, whether is was hesitant or savory you weren’t sure. But after a steady breath he pressed against you, mouth hot and slotting between your own lips perfectly. He was a good kisser but you already knew that.

It took only seconds for it to get heated, his hands tugging lightly at your hair and tongue grazing your lip. You parted in an instant, letting his tongue tangle with your own and then it was over. He had you backing up all the way to wall, your back thumping against it, and his knee wedging between your legs. Against your better judgement you started to grind against it, unable to stop your self considering how worked up you had been. “Getting yourself so turned on without any release, seems like torture sweetheart”

“There was going to be release, later, when I was alone” and your response had Steve’s head tipping back as he let out a groan.

“Still unfair, why don’t you let me take care of you?” Steve coaxed and you involuntarily ground down on his leg, knowing release was right around the corner if you just let him. Was it worth it though? To cross this line just for some sweet release? For a touch that could unwind you more than your own hands could? You knew Steve was a good lay, had been legend among the Hawkins High halls because of it. Should you even find out for yourself with risk of ruining the friendship? Fuck it.

You didn’t even have to answer based on the way your lips smashed back into his own. He met your pace in the blink of an eye and you couldn’t keep yourself from pulling at the hem of his shirt, trying to lift it above his head. Even needier at the sight of his bare torso you began to ride his leg like your life depended on it. A deep chuckle left his throat as his hands dug in the doughy flesh of your hips, slowing your movements against him. He wanted to take his sweet time with you and if he went any slower you were going to be a whining mess.

“What do you need baby?” he asked against your neck, sucking hard on the sensitive spot there and you were in no position to care that he probably gave you a crimson hickey.

“Take off my shirt” you told him with a groan, keening as he licked the sore spot of your neck. He obeyed, removing the baggy T-shirt you had worn over here just to be met with the sight that you had forgone a bra. You watched as his eyes turned almost black at the sight of you, swallowing thickly before cupping his hands around both your breasts. The minute he began to knead the flesh your head was hitting back against the wall, fighting from grinding on his leg again. Something about Steve needily groping your chest ignited a fire within you and you had been doing good until your nipple was sucked into his warm mouth and involuntarily you bucked your hips on his leg so hard you felt your hips bones hit his own.

"Such a needy girl" he teased before moving to suck on your other breast. As much as his words turned you on you still found yourself needing to feel more in control. Steve would be too cocky knowing he got you to so desperately fall apart like this. So in a moment of courage you took some intiative. With his eyes still closed, mouth littering your breast with hickeys, you dropped your hand down and grasped his hard on through his sweats. You felt the squeak from his throat on your breast as you began to stroke him through his pants and just as the girls had said in highschol, Steve was intimidatingly big.

“Looks like the book turned more than just me on” you teased, a sly smile on your face and Steve removed his mouth from your breast, tongue grazing up the skin of you neck till he was face to face.

“That’s not the book, that’s you” he told you and these words gave you the rush of confidence you needed for your fingers to slip below his waist band and grasp his cock right at the base. He hissed at the feeling of your cool fingers and the attention you were giving him.

“Stevie is needy too, what does he need?” you hummed, eyes wide and innocently looking up at him. He squeezed his own eyes shut as you slowly stroked him, prepared to ease him out of his pants.

“Baby this is about you” he told you, trying his best to back away but you had a grip on him that he was enjoying way too much.

“I know, that’s why I want to do this” and you were spinning both of you around, pressing him against the wall he previously had you caged in. He groaned as you dropped to your knees, breasts swinging as you finally pulled his sweat pants down. His length stared you down but he looked delicious as ever. If someone had ever suggested you’d be sucking your best friends cock tonight you would’ve told them they were lying but now here you were, taking him into your mouth. You hummed at the saltiness of his skin, tongue swirling around his swollen tip. He grabbed your hair without even realizing, trying to ease you to take more of him. Slacking your jaw you allowed him to glide in and out of your warm mouth, letting him hit the back of your throat, humming against him which made him writhe against the wall.

“Okay, stop I’m going to cum” he pulled you off of him, arms easing under your own and lifting you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. You smiled deviously at him, chin slick with spit and he didn’t waste two seconds before pulling you into a deep kiss. “It’s my turn to get a taste now”

He was mumbling against your lips, arms wrapped around you as he carried you over to the couch he had been watching TV on. Once he had you laid gently across it he was removing his own pants and dropping to his knees to remove yours. He made sure to take his sweet time, pulling the soft material down your legs, memorizing the cream color of the lace panties that had been soaked against your mound. You tried not to whine out as he touched you everywhere but there. You were on the verge of begging until he finally moved to pull the cream fabric off of you. You went to close your legs but his arm stopped you, keeping you wide open for him.

“So perfect” he said and you groaned out.

“Don’t tease” and Steve knew you meant both about the book and about how he was taking care of you. So he just grinned before dipping down and licking a long stripe through your folds.

“And sweet” and you didn’t have any time to yell at him because he was devouring you whole. Your stomach jumped as he sucked harshly at your clit, back arching and pressing your pussy straight into his face. His hands gripped the back of your thighs, more than likely leaving bruised finger prints but you hoped they did. You wanted to remember the mind numbing head Steve Harrington gave you. You almost didn’t expect him to be so good at eating you out. You should’ve thought because your heels were digging into his back, hands tugging harshly as his curls, and you were moaning unapologetically because he was just that good. You could feel the coil begin to tighten in your stomach and you were grinding against his tongue, movements getting faster indicating you were right there. It wasn’t until his lips wrapped around your clit did you find yourself begin to snap, shaking as your body seemed to leave earth and come back to you all at once.

“Hope you’ve got another one in you baby” he cooed, kissing up your stomach and breasts. He finally met your mouth and even though you were already half worn out you found yourself gripping his cock in your hand again. He winced due to holding his own orgasm off and your thumb gently rolled over his tip.

“Show me what you’ve got Harrington” you were telling him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before sucking on his neck. Steve hoped you were leaving your mark and soon enough you were lining him up between your legs. You shuttered as he ran himself through your slick.

He couldn’t wait any longer and finally he was pushing himself in you, bottoming out in seconds as you fully sucked him in. He knew not to move as your mouth froze against his neck and he moved to kiss your lips, an apology and promise that it would stop hurting soon. He was in his own pain of needed relief until your hand was grazing down his bare back.

“Please move, I’m begging you” and he didn’t need to be told twice as he pulled back and slammed into you again. You moaned loudly and he quickly found his pace, moving in and out of you as best he could. Swiftly you grabbed his hands, placing them on your breasts which he didn’t hesitate to grip. He used them for balance as he slammed in and out you, massaging them and loving them as best he could. The way you were reacting made him realize this was what turned you on most, attention to your breasts. Needing to have his release soon he dipped down, removing one hand to suck at your nipple as hard as he could, hips still slamming into you. The wet heat of his mouth had you keening in seconds and you gasped out, trying your best not to yell.

“I’m coming Steve, fuck cum in me please” you begged and he almost came right there as he heard those words. In moments you were pulsating around him, clenching tightly and milking him for all he was worth. The tightness of you made him follow right after, thick ropes shooting into you. You panted heavily as you gripped his shoulders, indicating him not to move.

“I want you inside of me a little longer” you told him and he slowly eased down onto you, trying his best not to move and overstimulate you.

“Where the fuck did this behavior come from?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to the hickeys he had littered your breasts with. He was trying his best not to get hard over the fact he was still inside of you.

“I’ve always been like this Steve” you told him, feeling him twitch inside you.

“This dirty, why haven’t we been fucking sooner?” he chuckled, mouth kissing your chin and you rolled your eyes.

“Because I don’t fuck around Steve, and I always told myself that if we did this it had to be real” and the weight of your words hit him with surprise. Yet it wasn’t the kind of surprise you had expected.

“You mean to tell me you liked me this whole time too? Then what the fuck have we been waiting for?” he groaned out and your eyes widened as you reached for him.

“You like me too?” you hopefully asked and he smiled, lifting to press his mouth to your own. You winced as he slipped out of you, no doubt a mess all over the couch that now had to be cleaned.

“Hell I love you, I’ve always loved you” he told you after a beat and you smiled up at him, realizing you should’ve read dirty books around him sooner.

“We’ll in that case, let’s do this again”

For you to enjoy <3: @jjmaybankswifes-blog @halflifejess

[plistommy]

Steve and Eddie are definitely the annoying couple who keeps making out in front of everyone because they can’t keep their hands off of each other for too long.

Like, it’s a movie night for example and not even twenty minutes in and Steve’s already sitting on Eddie’s lap as they make out and let these small giggles that makes everyone hiss at them to shut the fuck up.

And when they play DnD, everyone real focused, there comes Steve bringing everyone some snacks and sodas and lord behold their beloved Master is already up and going to hug him like they weren’t just in the middle of a campaign.

Dustin gives them shit for it the most, but he secretly really loves them together. He just likes to be a dick.

[strawberryspence]

happy birthday, @stevesbipanic! i am glad you were born, you amazing human being. I hope you get to drink the coldest, most delicious, bougiest milo you can have. ILY broccoli! 💛

-

Steve has never had a birthday cake. He doesn't count the first six cakes his parents had for him, because he's pretty sure it was only for appearances.

He remembers his seventh birthday. How badly he wanted to have a Flintstones themed birthday party, and how his parents called it tacky. Instead, Steve had a lavish tea party with all of their investor friends. He remembers hating it.

After that, there's— nothing. There were Nannies or Babysitters that tried to make him feel better by bringing him to Benny's and he's thankful for that. But there's always that heart wrenching rip in his system when he sees a child. Surrounded by family, singing happy birthday as they wait to blow on a cake.

And the thing is if Steve never gets to have that, it’s okay. It’s really, really, really, okay. That also means he’ll do his best to give all the kids the best birthdays they can have, so they can never feel what he felt. If El wants a day just full of craft making? Sure. Dustin wants to visit this damn planetarium in Indianapolis? Okay. Mike wants to dress him like him for an entire day? Alright.

Steve is happy that way, until Eddie Munson comes crashing into his life with a broken bottle. And okay, maybe it’s not a great idea to lie in the biggest and probably the most important relationship he has right now, but he’s not going to tell Eddie his little sad secret.

What he forgot to account for is the fact that his boyfriend is the biggest snoop to ever exist.

“Wha— What’s this?” Steve stammers as he enters his house. It’s almost always dark when he comes home, the house dull and empty.

Tonight, it’s different. After having his birthday dinner with Robin, Steve drives them back to his house so they can have movie night. Supposedly.

Instead, Eddie’s standing behind the long wooden dining table that never gets used, with 20 different cupcakes, all lit with a candle. There’s food and banners and balloons with streamers.

Robin pushes him forward with a smile, “So…” Eddie walks towards him, “I found some of your childhood pictures.”

“Oh.” Steve breathes out.

“Look, maybe I am wrong. Maybe I got it all wrong. Maybe your parents just weren’t the kind of people that liked taking pictures and having to develop them. Maybe someday, you’ll tell me why you only have one childhood photo album or why there’s no pictures of your birthday parties past the age of six.”

Eddie says, hands nervously twisting around his hair, “But, on the off chance that I am right,” He shakes his head in disbelief, “On the off chance that you haven’t had a birthday cake or a birthday wish in 14 years, I got you 20 birthday cupcakes.”

Steve can barely hold himself anymore, tears threatening to spill from his eyes, “Why 20?”

Eddie smiles at him, and his eyes sparkle at Steve like he hung the damn moon and stars, like he fucking created the whole universe, “One for every year my favorite person has been alive.”

Steve chokes down a half sob, half whine as he slaps a hand on his mouth.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Eddie whispers as he wraps Steve in a comforting hug. They stay like that for a minute before Eddie says, “I am so happy you were born. There’s a few more people that are happy, they’re all hiding in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” Steve pulls back, hastily wiping his tears.

“The kids are all here. Nance, Jonathan, and Argyle.” Eddie tenderly wipes a stray tear off his cheek, “Even Wayne, Hop, Joyce, and Mrs. Henderson is here.”

Steve’s not sure if he wants to know, but he still asks, “Why?”

Eddie visibly softens, but before he can answer Robin answers for him, “Because we all love you, Dingus.”

“So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to sit behind the cupcakes and they’re going to come out from where they’ve been eavesdropping.” Steve laughs when Eddie emphasizes the word, and there’s a clatter in the kitchen followed by whispering, “They’re going to act normal. And we’re going to sing you a song. Okay?”

Steve smiles, nodding, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Eddie says as he runs to the kitchen and as Robin ushers him to sit in front of the cupcakes. She forces a birthday hat on his hair, and he doesn’t even argue.

They all come out from the kitchen, all smiling and wearing ridiculous birthday hats. Even Hop and Wayne are wearing them and it might actually be the funniest thing he’s ever seen. The kids have blow horns that fill the silent house with joyous sounds.

They sing him a birthday song. It’s loud and it doesn’t exactly sound good. Dustin’s trying a new other pitch and Lucas has never been a good singer. Max is drumming on the table and El has a small tambourine. Mike and Will are trying to do some kind of duet in their own little bubble. But it’s the most beautiful, harmonious sound to Steve.

And as they all urged him to make a wish, Steve is struck with awe and disbelief, a feeling of realization sparking in his veins. Steve’s got everything he’s ever wanted right in front of him. He just wants all of them to be safe and sound.

He smiles at his family, as he lets his eyelid flutter shut.

And for the first time, Steve makes a birthday wish.

-

Edit:

Steve smiles, happy and content, as everyone chitchats around him.

"Hey, Eds?" Steve calls out for his boyfriend who's busy stuffing his face with bread rolls.

"Yeam?" Eddie replies, still chewing on the bread.

"Can I have a Flintstone themed birthday next year?"

Eddie swallows his bread with water, before turning to Steve with a smile so bright it could blind him. He moves closer to give his temple a light kiss.

"You got it, sweetheart. I'll be Fred, you'll be Wilma. It will be perfect."

[august-grey]

i don't need your closure | chapter 13

read on ao3

masterpost

July 1986

This was it. This was how Alice was going to die. Not at the hands of evil Russians miles below a shopping mall or torn to shreds by one of the multitude of monsters that plagued her little town. No, she was going to go out in the passenger seat of he mother’s Volvo, knuckles white around the handle on the door, foot punched down the invisible brake pedal. 

Fighting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, Alice contemplated the choices that led her to this moment. How had she gone from taking Dustin to an orthodontist appointment to fearing for her mortal wellbeing in a mostly empty strip-mall parking lot with her 15-year-old brother behind the wheel of their mother’s car? 

Alice looked over at the boy in question, his eyes wide and laser-focused on the pavement, and reminded herself why she was doing this. 

“So, I’m taking driver’s ed next year.” Dustin piped up from the passenger seat, his lisp a little more pronounced after getting his braces tightened.

“Oh yeah?” Dustin gave a grunt of affirmation. “Mr. Paulson still teaching that?”

“Uh-huh, I heard he’s brutal.” Alice nodded emphatically. That was putting it lightly. Dustin continued, “Lots of kids…they’re getting practice over the summer…just to get a head start, y’know? Mike’s and Lucas’ dads have taken them out a bunch. Mike’s even been on a real road already.”

“That’s not a bad idea, extra practice would definitely help. Paulson flunked me twice before I finally got my license. Just never really got a chance to practice after dad left and everything. Has mom taken…” She trailed off, a sudden realization dawning on her. No. Of course mom hadn’t had the time to take Dustin out to drive. Their mother barely had time to take care of herself let alone teach her anxious children to maneuver a vehicle.

Not for the first time, Alice found herself cursing her father. Don’t get her wrong, Alice was glad that her parents were divorced. Michael was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve anything her mother had to offer. She’d always known that her mother was too good for that sorry excuse of a human. Alice just wished he had found a scrap of humanity before abandoning his family, leaving them with nothing but a forwarding address and a promise to see his children at Christmas.

Alice hadn’t been surprised in the slightest when Christmas came and went without even a phone call, but Dustin…Dustin had been heartbroken. For months afterward he waited for their father to simply return. To change his mind, realize that he had made a mistake and come home to his family. The brief phone calls from Michael yielded empty promises of going for ice cream or baseball games, leaving Dustin disappointed again and again as plans fell through. 

Anger festered inside Alice, finally bubbling over one day as she sat with her little brother as he watched the sky darken out their front window, waiting for their father’s car to pull into the driveway for a belated birthday visit. Dustin’s thirteenth birthday had been three weeks prior, and the bastard still couldn’t be bothered to even give his son this small gift.

Down the hall, Alice heard her mother leave yet another message for her ex-husband. He wasn’t coming, Alice had a feeling from the beginning. Knowing this didn’t make the situation any easier. A small shake of their mother’s head when she returned to the living room was all it took for Dustin’s resolve to crumple. Running into his mother’s arms, he buried his face into her chest, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. 

Alice needed to hit something. Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. She wasn’t going to let her father get away with hurting her brother like that. Not again. While the rest of her family was distracted, Alice smuggled her mom’s car keys out of her purse and drove the three hours to their father’s new bachelor pad, stopping only to grab a birthday card from a random drug store. 

Michael could only stare at his daughter, open-mouthed, as she shoved the card into his hands, demanding he sign it for Dustin. He did so, hastily shoving a few twenties in the envelope for good measure. Then he had the gall to ask Alice how she was doing. Ignoring his question completely, Alice simply told her father to either make a real effort to have a relationship with his son or to leave them the hell alone. 

She couldn’t remember the half-excuse he had spluttered out as she left him in the doorway, but she did remember crying the entire ride home. She remembered the look on Dustin’s face as she pressed the card into his hands and being grounded for a week for disappearing with her mother’s car for seven hours on a school night. She remembered being the one to step up in her father’s place. Taking Dustin to school and to extracurriculars, helping her mother with home repairs, picking up extra chores around the house. 

And now, she supposed, she was going to have to teach her father’s youngest how to drive.

***

“Okay, now slowly—“ Dustin slammed the brakes at the edge of the lot, jolting Alice forward in her seat. She took a calming breath before gently correcting him as he turned the wheel, taking the car down the row of shopfronts. “Try to ease into the stops, Dusty. Gently press the brake as you’re coming up to the—oh Jesus.”

“Sorry, sorry!” He exclaimed, shifting the direction of the car after coming a little too close to the curb. “This is awful, how do you do this every day without feeling like you’re going do murder someone with this death-machine?”

“You just have to…I don’t know…give it time and you kinda become one with the death-machine?” Her brother shot her a quick, bewildered glance. “Does that make sense? It gets easier with practice, I promise. Just…try to relax.”

“That’s not going to happen.” He groaned miserably, braking a little too hard again in the back corner of the lot. Fumbling around the console in a panic, he flipped on the turn signal, then the windshield wipers. “At this rate I’ll never be comfortable behind the wheel and I’ll never get my license and...and— Alice, how do I put this stupid thing in park?!”

“Calm down, you’re fine.” She reached over, moving the shifter into park and turning off the ignition. As soon as he was able to release the brake, Dustin threw himself from the Volvo. Alice rolled her eyes at his dramatics and exited the vehicle herself. “You’re not going to be amazing right away, Dustin. It’s going to take time. We’ll go out more once I get my car back and you’ll be a pro by the end of the summer. Paulson won’t know what hit him.”

Dustin didn’t look convinced. He leaned against the hood of the yellow Volvo and buried his face in his hands. Alice felt a little out of her depth; she was usually the one freaking out in every situation. Her brother was normally overly confident in nearly everything he did. He’d thrown himself into countless dangerous situations without a second thought; seeing him freak out over driving of all things was disconcerting to say the least. 

“Are you hungry? We can stop for burgers or something?” Food. If there was anything that could distract Alice from an anxiety spiral, it was a good, greasy meal. Surely that would work on her brother, too.

He shook his head glumly, looking forlornly across the parking lot. “Nah, my mouth is still sore from the orthodontist.”

Alice sighed. She didn’t like it, but she had one last idea that could bring up his mood, even just for the moment. 

“You wanna stop in RadioShack before heading home?” That got his attention. Shooting Alice a Cheshire grin, Dustin took off across the pavement toward the electronics store.

She trailed behind him, shouting, “You have twenty minutes! Any longer and you’re walking home!”

***

RadioShack had been a mistake. Sweat dripped down her neck as Alice glanced down at her watch; Dustin had been in the shop for nearly 45 minutes and she was slowly losing her mind. By the time she popped into the shop, Dustin had already been neck deep in whatever gadget he needed for his project of the week. 

Deciding she didn’t want to get roped into a one-sided conversation she couldn’t keep up with (she wasn’t feeling that generous), Alice picked up a small pack of batteries for her Walkman and left her brother muttering to himself over a display of tiny voice recorders. 

Five minutes. She’d give Dustin five more minutes and then she’d go in there and physically drag him out if she needed to. The midday sun emerged from behind a cloud, shining through the windshield and effectively blinding Alice. Make that two minutes.

“Alice?” Jumping at the sound of her name, Alice scanned the parking lot for a familiar face. The lot had become considerably more full than it was during Dustin’s impromptu driving lesson, but it didn’t take long to find the source of the voice before they flung themselves halfway through Alice’s open window, obscuring her vision with a mop of messy brown hair.

“Jesus, Robin, back up would ya?” Alice grasped her assailant by the shoulders and gently shoved her out of her personal bubble. Robin dropped to a crouch next to the car, so she was level with the open window, eyes wide and panicked.

“Thank god you’re here. Wait…why are you here? Y’know what nevermind, I’m in a crisis and I need you to talk me down.” 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Reaching for the handle of door, Alice gave the seemingly innocuous plaza a once over, searching for anything out of the ordinary or potentially dangerous. Robin rested a hand on her arm, drawing Alice’s attention back to her.

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Robin took a deep breath, opened her mouth to speak again, and…stopped. Alice furrowed her brow and waited for the girl to speak. After a few long moments of silence, Alice gestured impatiently for Robin to continue. 

“I’ve been invited to a party.” She finally blurted out, expectantly looking to Alice for advice. 

“Okay.”

“By a girl.”

“Okay?”

“A specific girl.”

“…okay?”

“…a specific redheaded clarinetist with incredible taste in movies.”

“Oh! Oh my god, okay! When did this happen?”

“Just now, in the Rite-Aid tampon isle.” Robin stated miserably, popping up from her position by the door to pace the pavement. “So you see my problem, now!”

“Uh no, am I missing something?” Taking her chances with the angry July sun, Alice exited the blessed cover of the car as she watched her friend frantically pace the length of the adjacent parking space. “You like Vickie. This is good news, Robin!”

“No, Alice, this is an absolute nightmare!”  Robin stopped to run both of her hands through her hair, making her bangs stick up in perfectly odd angles to add to the slightly manic aura she was giving off. “Before this moment, Vickie had been purely a hypothetical. I could daydream all I want, but now, now…this is real life. She asked me to a party. And what’s going to happen, huh? I’m going to make a fool of myself and word vomit all over her and she’ll be horrified and I’ll be arrested for…for something. I’m sure I’ll deserve it at that point.”

Alice shook her head in disbelief. What was up with everyone today? First Dustin with his driving lesson, now Robin was having a complete meltdown on her watch. It was only a matter of time, she supposed, seeing as both Robin and Dusin had dealt with their fair share of Alice’s neuroticism. The least she could do was return the favor.

“Well, we can’t let that happen, can we? You’re not cut out for prison, no offence.” Alice stepped forward, reaching up to smooth Robin’s hair back to its normal state of messiness. Once she was satisfied, Alice settled her hands on the taller girl’s shoulders. “You just need backup, a wingman. We can make it a group thing. You, me, and Vickie.”

“That’s not a group, that’s you getting drunk and awkwardly chaperoning me like some sort of messed up, regency-era courting ritual, all while I desperately try not to make a fool of myself in front of a cute girl.” Robin mumbled through pursed lips. Though Robin wasn’t wrong, Alice didn’t exactly enjoy being reduced to nothing more than a bumbling overseer. As much as she wanted to help Robin, third-wheeling all night wasn’t necessarily Alice’s idea of a good time. 

She had an idea; whether it was a good one or not was the nagging question in the back of her mind. Briefly, Alice considered the last disastrous party she’s attended in Hawkins. It had been the precursor to what was possibly the worst night of her life, if you don’t take all of the the literal horrors and death she’d experienced over the past few years into account.

The night she was sure she’d lost her best friend. For good.

It’s different now, she reasoned with herself. She and Steve were on good terms; well on their way to friendship again. And though she didn’t yet have the full story of what had happened that night…or what had led to it, Alice could at least hope it wouldn’t happen again. There was only one way to find out, she supposed.

“I can, uh, askstevetogo.” Alice mumbled, half-heartedly tossing out the thought before she could stop herself. It wasn’t as if she was looking for an excuse to see him or anything, it just made sense. They are all friends. Friends go to parties together. As friends. “Then it’ll be a real group. Make things less weird, y’know?”

Robin’s eyebrows disappeared into her bangs as she shimmied out of Alice’s grip. “Oh, no, no. You can’t just say something like that and not elaborate. Did you and Steve make up?”

“Kinda? We’re…talking. It’s not a big deal.”  Robin seemed unimpressed, to say the least. Alice knew the girl wasn’t going to let her get away with that bullshit answer, and with a sigh, launched into an abridged version of what had happened with Sudsy. How she and Steve had ended up babysitting together, how Alice had emotionally blown up and confronted him, and then the subsequent, tentative makeup.

Obviously, making up with Steve was, in fact, a big deal to Alice. The past week had been the happiest she’d felt in months, and as much as she hated to admit it, that had a lot to do with Steve Harrington. True to his word, Steve hadn’t pressured Alice into anything since their conversation the previous weekend. To no one’s surprise, especially Alice’s, it took less than a day before she found herself eager to see him again. 

So, after harassing Dustin for Steve’s new phone number, she called him. He sounded pleased, but genuinely surprised to hear from her so soon. The palpable fondness in his voice combined with the itch to be within arms reach of him again, was how she found herself inviting Steve to take a walk with her. 

For safety purposes, of course. 

You see, Alice had a new client. A big, goofy Great Dane, who needed to be walked while her human worked overnights. Normally Alice wouldn’t think twice before declining the job; she and the dark didn’t really get along after everything she had been through. But this particular client had offered double her regular fee just to feed the dog dinner and take her on a quick walk before bed.

Alice couldn’t refuse the easy money, but that still left the problem of having to be outside. In the dark. Alone. She sucked it up the first night, walked the half-mile to the clients house, took the pup around the block while her nerves spiked, and finally ended up sprinting home after making sure the dog was safely in bed, the plan to call Steve already on her mind.  

As she predicted, he eagerly agreed to accompany her the next night. And then the next, and the next…until they fell into an easy, somewhat familiar, routine. Steve would pick her up at 8:30 on the dot, they’d take care of the dog, and then just sit and talk until Steve had to get himself to bed for work the next day. Sometimes Dustin would join them, if he wasn’t off galavanting with his Dungeons and Dragons club or messing with machines in his bedroom. But, mostly, it was just the two of them.

He followed her lead at every turn. Never pushing for anything more than what Alice was comfortable with giving, keeping a respectable distance. Alice, on the other hand, was having an incredibly hard time sticking to her own boundaries. Despite her reservations, Alice physically couldn’t keep herself away from Steve. It was like that night babysitting Holly had broke open a dam in Alice’s brain. 

Steve Harrington loved her. 

Just the thought alone was hard for Alice to wrap her mind around. Truthfully, she was scared. Hell, Alice was terrified. And still justifiably angry on top of it all. Months of convincing herself to turn her hurt into hate couldn’t be washed away so easily. No matter how badly she wanted to believe that Steve was truly repentant and wanted to make things right with her, Alice couldn’t shake the feeling that although everything between them was going well now didn’t necessarily mean it wouldn’t go to shit just as quickly. 

But in spite of it all, it was just so easy to fall back into an familiar rapor with her former best friend. It was a more than little unnerving how effortlessly Steve had fit back into her life and, even moreso, how badly she wanted him to stay there.

***

“So, yeah. We’re talking. That’s it.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

“Steve’s in love with you.”

“Apparently.”

“You’re in love with Steve?”

“I…yeah. I guess am.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I have no idea.”

“Shit, Alice.”

Alice couldn’t agree more; shit.

***

Alice’s mother dropped her off at Robin’s house a full two hours early, at the younger girl’s request. Well…it sounded more like a panicked demand over the phone than a polite request, but Alice was willing to overlook that tiny detail. Either way, she was grateful for an excuse after Claudia had offered to drive the girls to the party itself. As much as she loved and appreciated her mom, that simply wouldn’t do.

“No, seriously, it’s okay, Mom!” Alice attempted to dissuade her mother. “It’s only a ten minute walk from Robin’s. You don’t want to drive all the way back out here in just to drive us less than a mile up the road.”

Reluctantly, Claudia agreed that the girls could take care of themselves, and left Alice and her overnight bag at Robin’s. She waited until her daughter was safely inside before waving and backing out of the driveway. 

In the time it took for Alice to arrive, Robin’s bedroom had descended into absolute chaos. Ninety percent of the time they had before the party was spent digging through the chaos that was Robin’s wardrobe, piecing together the perfectly casual, but not too casual because “then what if Vickie thinks I’m a slob! Don’t give me that look, you’re just as much a mess as I am,” outfit.

The other ten percent was taken up by relentless, teasing back-and-forth from both girls. It had started off with Alice clearly having the upperhand; gently mocking her friend as she tried on article after article of clothing. Alice was quite enjoying herself. That is, until it came time to talk to Steve about the party.

 In the end, it had been Robin who had called to recruit Steve as a secondary wingman and a ride home. It was stupid. The phone had been in Alice’s hand, she had dialed his number. His new number. The one for his fancy, independent, adult apartment. The first ring in her ear sent her stomach fluttering and her heart pounding, resulting in the phone being flung into a bewildered Robin’s hands.

Cooly recovering from Alice’s sudden panic, Robin had managed to convince Steve to meet them at the party. Alice hovered over her shoulder, ears straining to hear the other side of the conversation and chewing her pinky nail down to the nub. 

What was wrong with her? Alice chastised herself. She’d spoken to Steve on the phone quite literally hundreds of times. At least thrice that week alone. 

Inviting him to a party, though, somehow felt too much like she was back in middle school asking Matthew Miller to the Snowball, only to spend the night sulking on the bleachers after being stood up.

So, in true middle school fashion, it only made sense that she make her friend ask Steve, instead. Not that she thought Steve would stand her up. Because it wasn’t like this was a date or anything. This was merely a group outing with a couple of pals.

She’d never hear the end of it from Robin. 

***

The party itself was a docile thing, despite being packed with a couple dozen band nerds. The music was decent and the drinks were surprisingly good for a questionable concoction thrown together by a teenager. 

Robin zeroed in on Vickie the second they stepped through the door. When the redhead greeted both girls with a hug, Alice was impressed by how quickly Robin recovered from the close contact. 

As the night went on, much to Alice’s delight, it seemed that Robin’s initial apprehensions about the party were proving to be completely unnecessary. And though she was having a good time and was always glad to spend time with Robin, it really seemed like Alice’s presence was barely needed. 

It may have been the effervescent lighting on the dance floor or maybe the faint buzz of alcohol in her system, but Alice could swear Robin practically radiating confidence as she danced with the girls she had been pining over for months. Ever the dutiful friend, Alice swayed to the music with them, overthinking about what the correct amount of respectable distance would be. Not so close to the couple that she was invading their bubble, but not too far away to be unable to participate in conversation or miss any distress signals from Robin. 

Luckily for her, after some subtle comments from Robin, followed by a not-so-subtle elbow to the ribs, Alice finally took the hint and excused herself. She counted this as a victory in staying firmly in wingman territory. There would be no outdated chaperoning tonight. 

Not quite sure what to do with herself after leaving the one person in the house she actually felt comfortable spending time with, Alice wandered through the festivities, stopping to chit chat with old classmates every so often. She certainly wasn’t looking for Steve. Not really. Was she disappointed he wasn’t there yet? Maybe, but mostly Alice just felt overwhelmed without someone to anchor her. 

In the end she parked herself on a couch in the den, only returning to the party proper to replenish her drink. It was quieter in there, and much less crowded than the main living areas. There were a few people playing scrabble at a card table in the middle of the room as movie played softly in the corner, a couple boys sprawled out on a rug in front of the the television, watching intently. This was definitely more her speed tonight. 

Unfortunately, despite being a refuge from the chaos, this was also how Alice found herself three and a half drinks deep, getting her ear talked off by goddamn Matthew Miller. Yes, that Matthew Miller. She had cursed herself by thinking of him earlier. It seemed Matthew had conveniently forgotten his eighth grade indiscretions. Sadly for him, Alice was excellent at holding a grudge, even through the pleasant, fuzzy haze of drunkenness. 

“Anyway, you’d be surprised by the kind of stuff you could get away with in college. No one cares, Henderson, you could do whatever you want.” Matthew had his arm stretched across the back of the couch, fingers lingering dangerously close to Alice’s shoulder. She clenched her plastic cup in her hand and stared straight ahead, willing someone, anyone, to save her from this conversation. Where the hell was Robin when she needed her? “And the girls, man. They’re nothing like high school chicks; everyone is just so open minded, y’know?”

“Mmhm.”

“Most of the them are just there looking for husbands, anyway, so it’s easier. That’s what Trevor says, anyway. You remember Trevor, right? He was french horn in high school, but we were roommates last semester, too. Anyway, it’s true though. These girls are just looking for someone to settle down and have babies with.”

Okay, that was quite enough of that. Alice threw the rest of her drink back, grimaced and finally turned toward Matthew with a withering scowl, preparing to lay into his insufferable, sexist ideas about women as a whole.

“First of all, you misogynistic prick, that’s—oh! ” Alice’s speech was slightly slurred, but not enough to hide the venom behind her words. Words that were all too suddenly cut off by the aforementioned prick making a bee-line for Alice’s lips, his eyes closed and mouth horrifyingly open. She threw herself backward into the arm of the couch at the last second, simultaneously pushing Matthew back into the cushions opposite her. “Oh, no thank you!”

The boy was clearly taken aback, or at the very least, not used to being turned down. “Are you sure? I thought we were having a moment!”

“What part of... of that ‘conversation’” Alice emphasized the word with some sloppy air quotes. “Made you think we were having a moment?! I might be drunk, but I’m not, like, random, regrettable hookup drunk, Trevor.”

“Matthew.” The boy corrected her with a glare. With practiced ease, he shifted his face into cool disinterest before plucking Alice’s empty cup from her hand. “I’m going to get us a refill. Maybe you’ll be a little nicer when I get back.”

Frowning deeply at his retreating back, Alice knew this was her chance to make a hasty departure. She just needed to get up. Which was easy, so easy. Or at least it would have been two drinks ago. The liquor had settled into her limbs, weighing her down like sandbags. It was fine, though. She just needed to flag down Robin to pull her out of the quicksand-like cushions that were sucking her deeper and deeper into the couch with every passing minute.

But where was Robin? Alice squinted her eyes, trying to find a familiar face in the crowd through the open doorway, but failed to spot either of the girls she’d been with earlier. This was also fine, surely someone had to know where they had disappeared off to. Triumph shot through Alice as she successfully caught the eye of a friendly face. She beaconed the familiar, fluffy-haired girl over.

“Kate. Kate listen, where is Robin?” 

“Hey Alice, you good?” Kate smiled down at her, amusement glinting in her eyes, before helpfully taking a quick look around the room. “I don’t really know, I’m sorry. I think she and Vickie were in the kitchen earlier, do you want me to go check?”

“You’re an angel, Kate, truly. A tumpeteer from the heavens.” The words tumbled from Alice’s mouth without filter. The lack of control should have mortified Alice, but she was well past the point of actually caring. Kate just chuckled, patted Alice on the head like a puppy, and made for the kitchen. 

No sooner did Alice’s ally disappear through one doorway, did her adversary emerge through another, a fresh plastic cup clutched in each hand. 

Shit. The time for games was over. Gathering every speck of willpower she possessed, Alice pushed herself up from the cavernous couch. Bad idea. Awful idea. She clutched the arm of the couch as the room moved around her, swaying and spinning like a carnival ride. Her stomach churned slightly. Don’t puke, don’t puke, don’t puke.

A hand appeared on her arm, steadying her. Instinctively, she swatted it away. Unfortunately, the sudden movement tipped Alice off balance just enough to send her falling back into the accursed couch. She glared up at her assailant, ready to lay into Matthew about touching her without consent. Oh. Not Matthew, then.

Steve, her knight in shining polo, loomed over her with bemusement etched into his features. A flash of annoyance coursed through her; where had he been an hour ago, before her night had started to go downhill? However, the feeling was quickly overshadowed by dread when she caught Matthew’s garish, caution-sign yellow t-shirt from the corner of her eye.

“Listen, I’m sorry I’m late, but you’re not going to believe the breakthrough I’ve had with Gladys—“

“Sit down,” she whispered to Steve, cutting him off as Matthew drew ever closer. Without a second thought, Steve slid into the seat next to Alice, side-eyeing the approaching figure. Alice clutched his arm, pulling him close like a human shield, as if she could camouflage herself with Steve’s considerably larger stature. “Pretend you’re talking to me.”

“Pretend to—we were talking, Alice. Until you rudely interrupted me.” Alice laughed loudly, tossing her head in the direction of where Matthew awkwardly hovered nearby, his shins bumping on the corner of the crowded coffee table. Steve snuck a peek, taking in the boy fumbling with the red cups in his hands, and nodded to signify he understood the situation. 

“Ah, I see. Okay, what angle are we going with here? The usual?” 

“Nuh uh, our moms work together. Dead grandma isn’t going to work.”

“What about my dead grandma?”

“Maybe. Can you even pull that off?”

“You underestimate me, Henderson.” Alice bit back a smirk as Steve took the challenge to heart. Without any sort of preamble he turned and pressed his forehead into her shoulder. Sliding his hand into hers, he gripped her fingers tightly and put in his best effort into looking the part of a grief-stricken man.

Alice froze.

For the first time, Alice was thankful for the alcohol that dulled her senses. Her heart fluttered as she tried not to think about the way his breath felt on her neck as he buried his face into her shoulder. Or the way the hard plane of his torso pressed into her own, or how it nearly took her breath away. 

Alice took a second to compose herself. You’re a goddamn professional, she scolded herself. This was a tried and true act, one that she and Steve had played out at least half a dozen times before to get out many an awkward encounter, though it was usually her amping up the dramatics. The proximity meant nothing, and Alice had better remember that. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d never been that close before. Closer, she recalled, heat pooling in her stomach. 

It had just been so long. 

But she could think about that later. Instead of lingering on feeling the heat of his skin on her body, she focused on the performance at hand. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Matthew finally piped up after what felt like an eternity of fake-comforting Steve as he fake-cried into the light cardigan she’d thrown over her tank top earlier in the evening. Alice glowered at him incredulously as she rubbed a comforting hand up and down Steves back. He was good, maybe too good. A wicked thought crossed her mind. Lets see how well he could do with this one.

“Shh, his guinea pig just died.” She hissed. Steve stiffened a bit, thrown off by Alice’s plot twist. She bit the inside of her cheek, keeping cool. “Show a little respect, Miller.”

“Damn, Harrington, I’m sorry man. Here,” Matthew deposited both cups of god-knows-what concoction, on the table before them.  “Have a drink for…for—“

“Henrietta.” Alice supplied, helpfully. 

“For Henrietta.” Matthew nodded and clapped Steve on the shoulder before hurrying away as quickly as his feet could take him. Once he was safely out of sight, Alice couldn’t hold back the peals of laughter. Steve took the moment to collect himself, smoothing back his hair and wiping the non-existent tears from his face. 

“Guinea pig?” Steve spluttered, shaking his head in disbelief. 

She shrugged helplessly. “You were so convincing, though, Steve! Why didn’t you ever try out for the school plays? We never had enough boys, they would have eaten you up.”

“Just another one of my many unrealized talents. Come on, lets go find the lovebirds. They’re around here somewhere.” He chuckled, rising from his seat. Offering a hand to Alice, he pulled her up with minimal effort. She felt steady enough on her feet to follow him through the house, but not before swiping her drink from the coffee table. 

 ***

“And then! After giving me all this bullshit about how these college girls are all so eager to throw themselves at him, he decides its a perfect time to go for it. Mouth. Wide. Open.”

“Please, tell me you’re kidding.” Robin and Vickie sat shoulder-to-shoulder on one of the few lounge chairs scattered across the backyard, twin expressions of disgust etched across their faces. Alice was sprawled across the foot of a shared lounge chair herself. Steve had somehow managed to fold himself onto a tight ball of limbs on the other half, leaving plenty of room for Alice to gesticulate wildly as she recounted every gory detail of her run-in with Matthew.

“I swear he like, unhinged his jaw or something.” Alice cackled, shifting her body to lean more of her weight onto Steve’s bent legs. At this point, she was sure he was the only thing keeping her upright. To his credit, he merely shifted to accommodate her, untangling himself slightly so that he could sprawl his legs out on either side of her. Alice took the opportunity to claim space of her own, scooting back to nestle her shoulder against his chest, while keeping her body angled to carry on her conversation. 

Sober Alice would have never, not in a million years. But drunk Alice was an entirely different story. She reveled in the easy way Steve slipped an arm around her waist, hooking his thumb through the belt loop on her hip. The action didn’t go unnoticed to the girl across from her, either. Robin caught Alice’s eye and gave a wink. Alice tried, and failed, to hide a grin. 

“Anyway, then Steve finally showed up, but Henrietta died and he started crying, which we all know is the ultimate boy repellent, so s’all good now.” 

“Wait, who’s Henrietta?” Vickie piped up, looking concerned by the mention of someone dying. 

“Steve’s guinea pig.” Alice yawned behind her hand, before resting her head on her folded knees. “But don’t worry, I’m not even a hundred percent sure she even existed.”

“She definitely never existed, you nerd.” Steve’s chest rumbled as he spoke, chuckling softly. 

The conversation drifted to movies and Alice’s altered state-of-mind had a hard time keeping up with titles and actors. Despite her lack of ability to make a mental contribution, Alice was overjoyed to see Robin so open and totally herself around Vickie. If anyone deserved to be in a happy relationship, it was Robin. Alice knew she couldn’t come close to understanding the nuances of being in Robin’s shoes, but she certainly knew the sting of unrequited love. 

Though, she supposed, her’s wasn’t really unrequited, now was it? Did it still count as unrequited if the feelings had actually been requited all along, but the other party had chosen to be an ass about them for the better part of a year instead of talking about said feelings? Either way, Alice felt a strong kinship with Robin in the whole romance department. 

Head swimming, Alice decided that last drink had been a bad idea. To her credit, she’d only drank half of it before a moment of clarity had her switching to bottled water, but it was enough to push her just a bit too far over her usual limit. Enough to completely disregard any and all inhibitions, but also, as it turned out, enough to make her very, very sleepy. 

The fourth time Alice’s head slipped from it’s perch, Steve let out a heavy sigh, wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her tighter into himself. Alice gave up trying to keep herself up and settled fully against his chest, letting her eyes drift shut. 

Everything about this was against Alice’s better judgement, and yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of how right it felt. The buttons of his shirt digging into her cheek, how his breath ruffled her hair as he dipped his head to whisper in her ear.

“Maybe it’s time to get you home, huh?” Alice’s eyes snapped open and forced herself upright. Absolutely not; there was no way she was about to cut Robin’s night short because she got a little too drunk and couldn’t keep her eyes open. 

“Nope, can’t go home.” She mumbled sleepily, pulling the front of her cardigan to wrap around her body a bit tighter to ward off the chilly night air.

“…why not?”

“Two reasons Stephen,” Alice held up a lazy finger, ticking off the first. “Number one; look at Robin.”

Steve grumbled but did as he was told, fixing his gaze on Robin, who was now visibly uncomfortable with the sudden attention Alice brought to her.

“When was the last time you saw Robin have a good time at a party?”

“I have tons of fun at parties all the time, Alice!” Robin protested from her chair. 

“Exactly. I’m not going to make her leave a nice time just so she could lay in bed listening to me snore all night.”

“I can take Robin home later.” Vickie nervously interjected, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. “If that’s what you want, I mean. No pressure, it’s just…I’m having a nice time too.”

Robin visibly lit up at the prospect of actual Alone Time with her long-term crush. She nodded enthusiastically, a blush creeping up her neck. Alice flashed her what she hoped was a subtle thumbs up, which in hindsight was maybe a bit too subtle even for its intended recipient. Embarrassed, she tucked her hand back into her sweater.

“Oh, perfect. That problem was solved…quickly. Anyway, third of—“

“Second?”

“Second of all…I can’t go home drunk. My mom will cry and it’ll lead Dustin down a…a dark path of drugs and alcohol. You guys know the kid, there very impressionable at that age.” 

“That doesn’t seem likely.”

“You don’t know that. I just…I don’t like them seeing me like this. So I can…I’ll sleep it off on this lawn chair, I guess. If you don’t mind scooting…” She leaned forward as far as she could, giving Steve a chance to get up. He swung his long legs over the side of the lounge and hesitated, a brief flash of inner conflict crossed his face as he considered something.

“Or…”

“Or?”

“Or I can take you back to my place and you can sober up there.”

Alice clapped a hand over her speeding heart, face heating to what was sure sure to be a low-grade fever. What was this kid playing at? 

“Mr. Harrington, I think we’ve established I’m not that kind of girl!” She managed to choke out after her pulse calmed. 

“Jesus Christ, Alice, not like that!” He spluttered, taking a few steps back as though to put some distance between himself and Alice. Robin dissolved into a fit of mad laughter, completely ignoring the icy glare Steve shot in her direction. He placed his hands on his hips, looking absolutely exasperated by both girls. “I just figured my couch would be a hell of a lot more comfortable than a hard plastic chair, but if that’s what you’d prefer then by all means—“

“No, no! That’s…that’s actually super nice of you, Steve.” Alice tried to recover, feeling a small pang of guilt through the alcohol. She had misunderstood, of course Steve was just trying to help. That’s just what they did; they took care of each other. 

“Listen, don’t feel obligated or anything, it was just a suggestion. I can just as easily let you sleep right here, or take you to Robin’s, or to back to your house to corrupt Dustin. Just wanted you to have options, is all.” Steve rambled as Alice leant over to fish her purse from underneath the lounge. Stumbling clumsily to her feet, she looped her arm around Steve’s to regain some balance.

“Do you have snacks?”

“Ok, I’ve changed my mind. You’re not allowed in my home.” 

“Can we stop somewhere to get snacks?”

“Will you behave yourself if I say yes?”

“I can’t make any promises.”

[stardryad]

In which I drew Steve (worgen) and Eddie (night elf) as their characters in World of Warcraft 🤲 Inspired by @stevespookington's fic i couldn't see (you were always right beside me)!!

[bigdumbbambieyes]

tw mentioned abuse

Billy always wakes up before his boyfriend and probably always will. But, he’s not complaining — he loves waking up in Steve’s bed, tangled up in the sheets as he blinks the sleep away from his eye. As always, he immediately turns his head and spots Steve there, his face pressed into his pillow as he sleeps soundly. The rising sun peeks through the curtains, spilling across his boyfriend, highlighting his dark hair a soft brown against the blue bedding.

Shuffling over, Billy presses a quiet kiss to Steve’s shoulder before untangling himself from the sheets and getting out of bed, pulling up the shorts he borrowed from the pretty boy as he heads to the bathroom—

And runs into Mrs. Harrington, who’s wrapped up in her house coat with rollers in her hair, cup of coffee in hand.

“Oh!” She gasps, jumping and spilling some of her coffee on the floor, grasping at the fabric of her housecoat over her chest as she stares at him. After the shock quickly wears off, she’s chuckling softly and sighs, “Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he smiles softly, glancing down at the floor where the coffee spilled, “Was just gonna use the bathroom.”

“Yeah, of course,” she hums, but makes this soft tsk sound of disappointment as she reaches up to brush a blond curl back from his forehead, where he knows the bruise from his father is. With sadness laced in her voice, she whispers, “Again?”

“It’s fine, Mrs. H,” Billy mumbles as he looks at her again, gently pulling away from her touch.

“No, it’s not,” she huffs, anger replacing that sadness as their eyes meet. Steve has her eyes. Kind, but fierce. Caring. Worried. “Oh, if I ever run into your father again, I won’t be nice like I was last time.” Before she knew what he did to Billy.

But Billy smiles again, a little more amused, because she’s 5’4’’ and could be blown away by the wind if it were too strong of a gust, but she’s got a fighting spirit. He knows where Steve got that from, now.

“I believe it,” he hums, touched by the way that Steve’s family cares and how they care about him. They don’t have to, but they do, and Billy doesn’t take it lightly or for granted.

She gives him that sorry smile and places her manicured hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, “You know you’re welcome here whenever you need it, Billy. Lord knows we have more than enough room for one more.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly with a nod, “And, thanks. Again.”

Another nod and she pulls her hand away, saying, “Coffee pot’s on downstairs,” before she heads down the hallway, back to her room to get ready for the day.

Looking down at the coffee spill, he lets out a soft sigh and frowns. If that had been his dad and Billy had made him spill his coffee, he’d be knocked upside the head. Or worse.

But, not here. In the Harrington house, he’s welcomed and wanted and the coffee pot is left on for him. He has a space here, whenever he wants it. And he always does.

As he’s wiping up the small spill, the door to Steve’s bedroom opens and his boyfriend looks sleepy as hell — eyes half shut, hair a mess, lines pressed into his skin from the bed. Billy stands and smiles at him, filled with warmth and affection as Steve waddles over to him and wraps his arms around him, pressing a kiss to Billy’s cheek as he mumbles, “Morn’.”

“Morning, peanut,” Billy whispers, wrapping his arm around Steve’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his mouth, then another to his cheek.

“Coffee?” Steve whispers, pressing his nose to Billy’s cheek, his eyes shut again as he struggles to wake up. It’s annoyingly cute.

“Mhm,” Billy hums happily in agreement.

[florallylly]

i've seen model steve harrington aus. i've seen child steve harrington aus. i present: child model steve harrington

note: this came from my own desperate need to see this conceptualized and i SWEAR i've searched, i just can't find any content with child model steve so. :(

bc little steve harrington was remarkably cherub-like. his large brown eyes and soft pout ensured endless cooing and fussing from his mom's friends. and when he blushed and ducked his head in shyness, they only complimented him more. when he got home that day, his mom smiled at him.

so steve decided that he would put up with the cheek pinching and the squealing. he sat upright in his chair, sitting on his hands so he wouldn't fidget and ruin the image. because he'd do anything to keep his mom smiling at him. if he was being particularly good that day, she'd let him lay his head on her lap on the drive back home.

but everything changed at his father's birthday gala. a nearly eight year old steve harrington sat prim and proper in his seat, but a smile lit up his face--his cheeks round and his dimples showing up. he raised his hand up to cover his giggle, but he couldn't help but laugh at some silly old man with a loose toupee. then he sees his mom approaching, and his face quickly smooths over, going back to the more polite smile he usually adopted when it came to these events.

he'd ruined it. he hadn't continued being the sweet boy his mom wanted. but then, she smiles at him. and introduces him to the man behind her, who says he's a designer. the man holds out his hand, but when steve puts his hand into his palm, he doesn't shake it. the man simply holds his hand, his eyes scanning steve's face. steve tries not to squirm under the attention. but the man nods and smiles at his mom, and he gives two brief cheek kisses to steve, whispering in his ear "you're going to be a star, darling." steve looks at his mom, confused, but she waves him off to continue talking to the man.

a few months later, steve's mom whisks him off on a trip to france. and steve is so excited to go, nearly vibrating in his seat as the airplane prepares to take off. but instead of the eiffel tower and the seine, steve is taken to a studio. he's posed and changed. once again, he's being fussed over, but instead of wealthy socialites, gossiping make-up artists squeal over him. he's "perfect for the shoot" and "the most darling little boy." steve doesn't understand, but his mom is still smiling, so he lets the nice ladies brush powder over his face.

and he looks in the mirror. his hair is a little more tousled and his lips have a slight tint to them and his eyes seem to take up much of his face. he's put into new clothes, and he feels like a doll in their hands. and when he's put in front of the camera, he simply follows the photographer's directions. afterwards, he's bundled into the car and his mom can't stop gushing about how good he was.

apparently, he's a natural. and then she goes back to fussing over him, focusing more on appearance than his behavior now. but she takes him out shopping and they eat at an upscale restaurant along the champs-elysses. and steve is happy.

and then they go back home, and his mom is so much stricter than before. she has him try out all kinds of different hair products, determined to find the best combination to keep it looking shiny and soft. she controls his food intake and what he wears and makes him use weird creams and serums on his face. but this is what makes his mom happy, so he's happy to let her.

his mom is also on the phone a lot more lately, whispering harshly about the quality of brands and steve just assumes she's being picky about the clothes she buys. later, his mom picks him up and holds him, and asks if he'd like to move to italy. she looks at him intently and it's obvious what answer she wants, so steve nods. she smiles and holds him close, and it's the most loved steve has felt in a while.

so they move to italy, and suddenly steve is a lot more busy. he's put in front of more cameras for more people he doesn't know. but he's smiling and pouting and doing whatever they want him to do. his compliant attitude and polite nature have photographers and designers alike singing his praises, and steve always looks to his mom for approval. but she's been arguing with his dad a lot lately, so she's upset more often than not. but that's okay, the make-up artists are always kind to him.

but then one day, his mom takes a phone call in the middle of the shoot. and when it finishes, she's gone. steve goes back in, close to tears, but the make-up artists still hanging around look after him until a car is sent to pick him up. this becomes a trend. and eventually, steve goes alone to his shoots. he's always taken care of by the crew and someone is always there to pick him up, but it's not fun without his mom there.

but he knows that she's always enjoyed him taking pictures, so he continues to do so, hoping that she'll come watch him again sometime soon. and he busies himself with befriending the chatty make-up artists and the bossy photographers and the eccentric designers. and he's such a cute little thing that they can't help but dote on him.

steve is never catapulted into child stardom, as his mom is picky with his jobs, only choosing luxury brands and well known designers for him. but within the industry, they call him the "little prince."

and then steve is catapulted into puberty, but his intense skin regimen prevents him from getting acne, save for the occasional zit. and his diet and religious exercise schedule help maintain his look. and he's still doing remarkably well, especially now that he's fully aware that he is a Model.

and steve has truly grown into his looks. with time, he's grown more comfortable in front of the camera and made numerous friends. nearly all of them are older than him, but they're fun and loud and it fills up the space that normally surrounds him. and they're the ones who get him hooked on american movies. steve remembers living in america, but he's been in milan so long that everything he recalls is vague.

but he watches them and falls in love with the american high school experience. so when he finally catches his mom off the phone and actually in the house, steve asks if he can go to school in america. and his mom laughs. but steve keeps asking, which devolves into begging. and his mother snaps, slapping him across the face and calling him ungrateful. she cries and begs for forgiveness, cowed into shame by steve's desperate attempt to hold back tears.

and so she lets him go to school in hawkins, indiana. an odd choice, but his parents just so happened to own a property there. (in truth, both of his parents expected him to change his mind within the year). but steve finds his place at hawkins high, because even though nobody in hawkins has ever heard of versace, steve is pretty. he's pretty and charming and he knows the right thing to say. after all, he's spent his whole life perfecting his mask.

and even if his mom ended up moving back home with his dad, leaving steve all alone in that big empty house, steve is happy. he's finally hanging out with people his age and high school is so far removed from the glitz and glam of the fashion industry. and he's settled and content with tommy and carol by his side. while he misses his friends back in milan, steve finds himself longing for the clothes more often. hawkins was certainly the opposite of milan, what with the nearest mall being two hours away and only equipped with a macy's and jcpenny.

through it all, steve is determined to be normal. he laughs along with jokes he doesn't quite get and rolls his eyes at carol's cue, and he joins the swim team. and he joins the basketball team. and he goes to parties and kisses girls and wears dumb little polos with his letterman jacket and does everything that he saw in the movies.

but nancy wheeler is different. steve can't forget his time in italy and who he is and was, and he's reminded of his old life in everyone and everything in hawkins. but not nancy wheeler. she's all hawkins and all his. and then the upside down happens.

and then nancy wheeler breaks his heart.

even after three years, his parents continue to ask when he'll go back to modeling, but he's different now. the upside down and billy hargrove beat that starry eyed little kid who thrived in the spotlight. and nancy wheeler proved that adoration and love is fleeting, so what would even be the point of trying anymore? his dad was a little more approving of steve's retirement/hiatus, saying that steve must want to go to college so he can take over the family business.

but when steve doesn't get into college, he's once again badgered by his mom to go back. but he's grown and changed and he's not sure that he can pretend anymore, so he says no. and they cut him off. enter: scoops era.

the measly scoops salary is not nearly enough to cover all of the new bills and expenses steve has, but he's not willing to leave hawkins. so he reaches out to his friends back in italy, and they refer him to their american connections. steve doesn't model at the same level as before, but he poses for a couple of zines and one artist who got a little too handsy at his exhibition. but he's able to make it through until the mall blows up.

this routine continues and he starts working at family video with robin at his side, but he keeps his side job a secret from the kids, using the excuse of visiting his parents to leave town for his shoots. he's not ashamed, but he knows he wouldn't "be normal" anymore if they found out.

but how does he explain his near mental breakdown at the sight of his healing demobat scars. they're raised and ugly, ruining what should have been a perfect body. and even though he uses scar cream everyday, they refuse to fade away completely. and how could anyone stand to be near such an ugly thing when all his life, steve was meant to be pretty? after all, love and adoration is fleeting.

[szczurherbacany]

another redraw lol, the original is called “Young Woman and Death” by Henri Lévy