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#bug and steve
buckys-little-belle · 2 years
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for the next steve and bug part can we see some angst mayve? i’m also a big regressor and sometimes people are meanies. because i’m a boy they say i’m not a little, and i just want steve to hold me and say otherwise. is that an okay idea?
Cafe BigNSmall - Steve Rogers (Chapter Two)
My Big Sunflower
Steve x Little!Reader (He/Him Pronouns)
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Warnings - Bug cries, people are mean, Bug is called invalid in his regression, it’s a lie, Steve makes sure Bug knows he’s very valid as a regressor, it’s a mix of some serious fluff, and yet some serious angst.
Notes - I just want to say this, send those mean people my way, you are so valid in your regression! Never let anyone tell you otherwise! There is no perfect age, size, gender, lack of gender, anything, there are no limits on who can regress, no one is more valid than another, and no one should make you feel otherwise. If you ever need a virtual hug, high-five, forehead kiss, a pump up speech, a anything, you come to me, I love all of you, and all of you are valid.
Notes - I used not only the Anon message/request as a plot line in this chapter but also a concept created in the beautiful brain of @little--baby--bear ! A concept we both freaked out over together, so thank you to the both of your for helping shape this chapter! <3
SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW
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Bug was excited, he loved seeing Steve at the Cafe, the conversations always full of laughter and joy. Sure it had only been two days since he had met this tall and seemingly perfect caregiver at the Cafe, but Bug had a good and genuine feeling about him.
“Hi!” Bug cheered to the barista as he walked in, his yellow rain coat on, as a precaution, and his bag slung over his shoulder. “Can I get a -“ He started, soon cut off by a louder and deeper voice from behind him.
“An orange juice, and a Black coffee please.” Steve smiled, stepping beside Bug and pulling out his wallet, offering the cash to the barista who smiled back.
“Of course.” They said, getting started on the drinks, leaving Bug and Steve to say ‘hello’.
“I can buy m’own juice.” Bug protested, his wallet already in his hand, ready to be opened.
“I know.” Steve laughed. “But I like buying you juice, it makes me feel useful.” He offered, a wide smile still plastered on his face.
“I jus’ feel.” Bug paused, searching for the right word. “Useless a little.” He mumbled, embarrassed about not feeling equally helpful, but also embarrassed for complaining about the clearly nice gesture.
Steve looked shocked. “You make my day better every time I see you.” Steve said, his body turning fully towards Bug as he talked. “I would say that’s very helpful.” He added.
“Really?” Bug asked, genuinely wondering if Steve meant what he said.
“Yes.” He laughed. “I’m not lying, I haven’t been this happy in a while.” He said, his words slightly full of sorrow.
Bug reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand, unable to come up with the right words, offering a small physical gesture instead.
Steve felt his gut clench in both happiness, but also sadness, he wanted this, a little of his own, but he still felt inadequate in a way. Maybe Bug just got scared randomly, or some other very reasonable excuse as to why he grabbed Steve’s hand, but he didn’t want to explore the possible ideas, instead he chose to stay in this moment, giving Bug’s hand a slight squeeze.
“Steve.” The barista called, knowing his name as they got more aquatinted. “Your drinks.”
Steve thanked them, regretfully letting go of Bug’s hand to grab both drinks, his head nodding at Bug to lead the way to their table.
Bug walked forward, sitting in his booth, placing his bag on the table, getting ready to take out the book he brought, a book of flowers, so Steve could pick his favourite. “Here Y/n.” Steve said, handing Bug his orange juice, sitting in his own booth, placing the cup of coffee down as he got settled.
“I brought the flower book!” Bug cheered, making Steve look towards the brown bag placed on the table. A new circular pin placed next to a few worn down ones.
“What’s this?” Steve asked, pointing to the pin that looked scarily similar to the one on his jacket.
“Oh.” Bug mumbled, turning his bag over to hide the pin, a little embarrassed that Steve had seen it. “‘s a pin.” He paused. “Like yours.” Bug said quietly, pointing to Steve’s pin, taking a sip of his juice as a way to hide his face.
Steve was stunned, Bug had got a pin just like Steve’s, why? He wasn’t sure, but clearly it was a good thing right?”
“I can get rid of it, if you want.” Bug offered, flipping his bag over once more, reaching to remove the pin from his bag, ready to hand it over or throw it out.
“No!” Steve announced, his hand flinging towards Bug’s. “No.” He said, this time with a little more composure. “I like it.” Steve said, a smile adorning his face. “I’m sad I don’t have a pin that matches one of yours.” He added, pointing to the random pins that were also on Bug’s bag.
The pins were old, they had come with the bag, a good deal from a local thrift store. Some pins were other countries flags, some band pins, and a couple of old rusted flowers. To be honest Bug had meant to replace them with new ones, but hadn’t found any good ones. That is until the shield pin had been on display in a downtown comic store, the new shiny metal pin replacing an old bands pin that had been on his bag for years.
“I don’t even know where these pins came from.” Bug confessed, hoping Steve didn’t think the random pins were weird. “I just like to play with them sometimes, I jus’ need to replace them.” He explained, his fingers grazing the pins.
‘Maybe I can help with that.’ Steve thought, his mind racing with pins he could get. And maybe he would, he just needed some time.
- - - - - -
Y/n and Steve didn’t meet up the next day, their schedules not aligning, so the meeting two days later felt more sincere. The pair genuinely missing the others company for more than 24 hours.
Steve got to the Cafe early, too antsy to wait any longer, the table now taken up by himself, Bug’s juice, two coffees, one empty and one half full, as well as a small gift bag. The bag yellow with matching tissue paper over flowing the top. A smile had be permanently on his face for the past hour that he had been waiting. His leg bouncing in anticipation.
“Sorry.” He heard from behind him, the timid voice coming from the front of the Cafe. “I don’, I’m not.” The voice stuttered, eerily sounding familiar.
“What?” A different voice laughed back. “You think you’re a little?” The voiced mocked, it’s words laced with venom.
“I.” Steve recognized the voice and stood up. Causing the Cafe to look away from the previous commotion, their eyes now on Steve.
Bug stood grasping his bag, his eyes filled with tears, a few trailing down his face, a woman standing in front of him in line, the owner of the mocking voice. “You okay Bug?” Steve asked, out of breath, unsure of how to approach the situation.
Bug shook his head as a laugh rang out. The woman not seeing how distressed Bug was, only seeing a close to seething man stood a few feet away from her. “He’s fine, he’s a big boy, he can handle it.”
Bug let out a quiet sob, his shoulders slumping in, his demeanour defeated. “He’s a little.” The barista spoke up, trying to diffuse the situation. The woman scoffed. “And I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” The barista spoke again, the woman looking at them as if they had done something horrible, the woman getting ready to argue, looking around to find support from onlookers, only to be met with distasteful looks. The woman clearly in the wrong, she left before things got worse.
Steve finally spoke up. “Bug come here.” He called, his arms opening, Bug running into them, his face now smooshed into Steve’s chest, his sobs finally leaving his body. Steve wrapped his arms around him in a protective manor, giving Bug a quick kiss atop his head. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered, hugging Bug as tight as possible, Bug squeezing back.
“‘m sorry.” Bug whispered, just loud enough for the super soldier to hear.
“No.” Steve whispered back. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Bug pulled back at those words, looking at Steve with wet eyes. “I mean it.” Steve said, as if he had read Bugs mind.
The two sat down at their booth. Bug wiping away his tears as he sipped his juice. “Thank you, for being here.” Bug said. Steve knew what he meant, having someone to support you in hard times was most likely new for Bug, and he was happy to show Bug that people cared about him, and would stand up and stand with him.
“Of course.” Steve smiled, taking a sip of his drink as well before clearing his throat. “I have something for you.” He said joyfully, clearly excited, sliding the bag towards Bug.
Bug smiled back, analyzing the bag before pulling back the tissue paper, neatly placing it beside the bag. He pulled out a small pin, a little bumble bee pin. “It’s a bee!” He squealed. His face pure joy.
“Keep going.” Steve laughed, eagerly watching as Bug pulled out the next pin, this one an exact copy of the previous Bee pin. “One for you, and one for me.” He explained.
“I love them.” Bug said, passing Steve a pin as he examined his own, removing an old pin from his bag, putting it in an inside pocket, and replacing it with the new one. Steve placing his pin on his jacket, next to the shield pin.
“I’m glad you like it my little scientist.” Steve beamed.
“Thank you my big sunflower.” Bug responded, still playing with his new pin, Steve laughing at the nickname.
So there they sat, Bug and Steve, at their table, with their matching pins, ready for whatever the Cafe had in store for them next. Whether it be good or bad, they had each other, always.
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itiswormtimebaby · 9 months
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This, but it’s Bug mad at Steve. Every few years since “The Incident,” as it’s come to be known he will try to sneak a trade in but she’s never wavered on her vow.
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lovebugism · 2 months
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can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself
Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼
ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)
Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”
A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.
Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 
Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”
“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”
Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”
“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”
Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.
Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”
“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”
You nod once. “Right.”
The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”
“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 
Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.
His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”
“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.
“I didn’t even say anything!”
“You said she was talking a lot.”
“I said that I liked it!”
Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”
The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”
“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”
He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 
You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.
“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.
“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.
The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.
“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.
“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”
You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”
“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”
You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.
“I know,” you murmur.
“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”
Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”
“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”
“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”
“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 
It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”
Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 
“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”
You melt.
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morganbritton132 · 1 month
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Eddie post a Tiktok of an old home video. In the video, he’s twenty-one, messy haired, laying on his side in bed facing the camera, and he looks like shit. His eyes are glassy, his nose is rubbed red, and his voice is thick the way it always is when he’s sick.
“This is a message for future Eddie,” Eddie tells the camera. “If you decide to spend the rest of your life with a man that spends all his free time babysitting - and I know you, you do want to spend your life with him - get used to catching every virus in town.”
In the video, Steve pops up behind Eddie and wraps himself around him, looking just as sick. His eyes never open as he cuddles closer, resting his head in the curve of Eddie’s neck and his hand on his chest over his heart. Steve sounds like he’s already falling back to sleep when he asks, “Who’re you talking to?”
Eddie looks into the camera like, “Myself.”
“Say hi for me.”
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38across · 1 year
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steve harrington + 🧍‍♂️
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I love Mean!Eddie. its just so fun for me!! Fics where Steve is trying to be his friend, whether cuz he actually likes him or just for the sake of the kids, and Eddie’s like “Ew no fuck off”
Because that so funny to me. Steve has like spent his entire school years being popular and well loved. Even after he laid down the crown, people (excluding Billy and co) were atleast civil. And then? Some dude?? just hates him?
Steve is my favourite character though so I prefer it when Eddie takes it too far and has to apologise, but the main point is that I want Eddie to tease Steve, who just takes it because what else is he supposed to do?? he’s not gonna argue with a dude with bambi eyes! Steve has taste!
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livwritesstuff · 3 months
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hazel posts a tiktok captioned "true love i think?". the tiktok is literally just hazel giggling as she tries to narrate screenshots of texts between steve and eddie over the years.
here’s some of them:
Steve: I’m going to kill you.
Eddie: ?
Steve: How hard is it to shut a cabinet door?
Eddie: 💤💤💤
Eddie: think i should tell the girls about the wolf spider i found in the basement?
Steve: YES
Steve: I need two more years of hiding shit down there at least. I can sense the fear waning.
Eddie: 👍
*three minutes later*
Steve: Wait you killed the spider though right?
Eddie: *leaves Steve on read to torture him*
Steve: ?
Steve: Ed
Steve: ???
Eddie: now i did 
Eddie: but if the ladies ask no i didn’t
Steve: wtf did you order from Amazon?
Eddie: don’t open it
Eddie: it’s for the girls
Steve: Yeah right.
Eddie: excuse me
Eddie: did you go to bed without me??
Steve: Dude I totally forgot Moe’s actual name again…
Steve: The school called asking to speak with "Lucy’s parent or guardian" and I said sorry wrong number and hung up.
Eddie: dude
Eddie: wait why’d the school call about moe
Steve: She got suspended from the basketball team.
Eddie: again?
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stevie-petey · 2 months
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episode six: the spy
Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows.  “Shit…” “You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.” Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 
Summary: dustin and steve haggle a butcher, you throw some meat at steve and then have a weird conversation about love, you stop dustin from becoming an incel, and then you wrestle some demodogs like any real woman would. side note: steve is hot protecting the kids.
Rating: general, violence and swearing
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, violence and swearing, blood mention and ptsd mention, weapons, fire, probably more
Words: 17.1k (i fear how much longer these next few chapters become)
Before you swing in: its here !!! god, this chapter was ROUGH. the conversations between bug and steve took many rewrites and editing. i wanted to get it just right, and finally i think im satisfied with where they landed. bug and steve aside, i absolutely loved writing this chapter with the kids. i sincerely hope you guys enjoy, this chapter took blood, sweat, n tears lmao
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You’re the first to break the silence as you all stare at the hole Dart created in the wall in shock.
An obnoxiously loud yawn escapes your lips, and Dustin and Steve shoot you simultaneous weird glances. You feel your face heat up in embarrassment. “Sorry… It’s been a long day.”
Steve huffs. “Yeah, no kidding.”
Dustin clears his throat before standing up. He wipes off some dirt that got on his jeans and then offers you his hand so that he can pull you up as well. You accept it and stand, your bones a deep, weary type of heavy that only comes from pure exhaustion. 
“Okay,” Dustin begins, and you can already see a plan forming in his mind. “Steve, you’ll spend the night here so that way we can all get up bright and early to start our search for Dart.” 
Steve attempts to argue, but Dustin puts his hand up to shush him and continues with his speech. The older boy throws his hands up in the air and gives you a look of disbelief over your brother’s antics. You stifle a laugh, which he only rolls his eyes at. Steve, whether he likes it or not, will have to get used to Dustin’s… Dustin-ness.
“If he escaped through the tunnel, then we have to assume that there’s an opening somewhere above ground.” Dustin finishes. 
You nod your head slowly, still unconvinced. “Okay, but how do we find him? Better yet, what happens when we do? It took Nancy with a shotgun, my knives, Steve’s batting skills, a ton of fire, and almost dying a bunch of times to take down the Demogorgon.” 
Dustin lets out a tired sigh. “I’ll figure it all out, alright? For now, let’s just get some sleep. Maybe it’ll come to me in a dream or something.” 
“A dream? Seriously?” Steve looks at the two of you as if you guys will start laughing and tell him it’s all a giant joke. Unfortunately, it isn’t. 
Steve spent all last year and most of the summer getting to know you. He’s used to your quips and soft spoken teasing, but Dustin? He’s uncharted territory and you’re secretly relishing in seeing Steve fumble around him. You’ve never had anyone else interact with your brother before, only Jonathan, so this change is odd, but welcomed. 
Dustin pays no attention to you and Steve as he begins heading up the steps, back to your home. Once he disappears, you nudge your shoulder against Steve’s. “You know you don’t actually have to spend the night, right?”
“Ya know, I can’t quite tell if the kid will let me leave or not.”
You laugh. “He’s harmless… Mostly. I promise I won’t let him bite, but I also understand if you want to leave.”
Steve looks away, sensing the undertones of what you’re saying. You’re giving him another out, one last chance to leave and go back to pretending like everything's okay. You wouldn’t blame him, and you get a sense of deja-vu from that night at Jonathan’s. When you tried coaxing Steve to leave, to spare himself from everything he inevitably ended up suffering from. 
After a minute or so, Steve shakes his head. “I’ll stay. You need my help.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say need–”
“Shut up and let me help you, Y/N.”
You sigh. There’s no arguing with him, he’s made up his mind and your truce that you shook on ten minutes ago burns your hand. He’s staying. 
“A ‘please’ would’ve sufficed, but fine.” You link your arm around Steve’s and make your way up the cellar steps. “C’mon, Dustin is probably waiting for us with some new insane plan for where you’ll sleep.”
– 
You know that your mom is safe, off at the other side of town, searching for your dead cat, but it’s still lonely walking into your empty home. Dustin is standing in the living room waiting, but you can see that it makes him uneasy as well. 
Steve follows behind you and takes a look around. When he spots the lumpy, old, sagging couch in front of the window, he frowns. It’s barely bigger than he is, his feet would definitely hang over the edge. “This my bed for tonight?”
“It’ll have to be, unless you want to come snuggle with me in my bed.” Dustin says. 
“I wouldn’t, he kicks in his sleep,” you tell Steve, attempting to make light of the situation. 
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he snorts. Then, as if he’s done this a million times before, Steve flings himself onto your couch and his feet do indeed hang over the edge. “Oh, yeah. This will definitely be cozy.”
You wince. “I’m sorry, you’re still free to go home. I completely understand and–”
“Unless…” Dustin begins to brighten up and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. Pure horror washes over you; you know that look on his face. He’s scheming. 
“Dustin, whatever is about to come out of your mouth–”
“Y/N has this giant bean bag in her room. Practically takes up the whole space, and, luckily for you, my new friend, it’s Steve-sized.”
Steve whips his head to face you, a curious look on his face. “You don’t say, Little Henderson?”
Both boys look at you, a matching glint of evil in their eyes, and you realize you’re trapped. When did they manage to sync up to make you miserable?
You weigh your options against your morals. On one hand, it’s your room and you and Steve are still warming back up to each other. However, on the other hand, Jonathan has spent countless nights on that bean bag himself. 
Dustin’s right. Steve would fit perfectly. 
Damn him. 
You shuffle your feet, averting Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I guess you’d fit.” 
“You guess? Steve, she’s had Jonathan sleep on that thing like a bajillion times.” Dustin waves his arms out, gleeful that he’s won. “In fact, I think our mom specifically bought it just for him.”
He now steps closer to Steve and eyes him up and down. “I’d bet money that you two are about the same size, so as I stated earlier: it’s Steve-sized.”
“I’m actually taller than him, so…” Steve mumbles to no one in particular, but quickly clears his throat and changes the subject. “And I’d finally be able to see Y/N Henderson’s room? Count me in.”
You blush furiously. He’s getting a kick out of all of this and he’s such a little shit, honestly. You’re not sure why the thought of having Steve Harrington in your room, eager to be in your room, makes your stomach flutter and your cheeks burn painfully. 
Steve sees your blush and he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “C’mon, Y/N. It’ll be like a sleepover.”
“You’re far too pleased about all of this.”
“We can pretend to be back at Bookstrordinary. I’ll even stack some books that you definitely have in your room.”
Dustin stands between you and Steve, his face alight with joy and curiosity. “Can I please know when you two became best friends?”
“No, you hid Dart from me.”
“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?”
“Nope.”
Steve clears his throat, clearly amused by your banter with Dustin but still unsure about everything going on. “So… What do ya say, Y/N?”
You bite your lip and look at him. He’s pathetically too large for the couch, it wouldn’t be fair to just force him to sleep there because of the weird way he makes you feel as if you’re floating yet falling all at the same time. 
Exhaling, you give in. “Fine, but do not touch any of my books in the room.”
“Yes!” Steve high fives Dustin and you roll your eyes at them both. 
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. It’s late, can we please just go to bed now?”
Dustin sends you a wink, which thankfully Steve doesn’t see. “Sure, sis. Have a good night.”
And with that, probably because he senses you’re about to throw a shoe at him, Dustin flees the living room and runs to his room. As soon as he’s gone, Steve bats his eyelashes at you and playfully teases, “Take me to bed, Y/N.”
You snort, despite how exhausted you are. “Never say those words to me again.”
He laughs and stands up, following behind you as you guide him towards your own room. A part of you feels like you should give him a house tour, but logistically it’d be useless. You can’t imagine that Steve would be over at your house again once the Dart situation is handled. 
You have to remind yourself that there are still roses for Nancy, currently wilting, in the backseat of Steve’s car. 
They’ll work things out eventually, or maybe they won’t, but Nancy Wheeler still has Steve Harrington’s heart. He is her’s entirely. 
Lost in thought, you almost miss the turn to your room and have to grab the back of Steve’s jacket and yank him towards your bedroom door. 
“Hey–” 
“Sorry, my room is here.” 
“You Hendersons are just a delightful bunch, ya know that?” 
“Be thankful you don’t have to meet our mother, honestly.” You fling your bedroom door open and gently push Steve inside. 
As soon as he’s in your room, you watch as he takes it all in. His eyes scan every corner of the room, and you hold your breath as you wait for them to land on the Spider-Man poster he gave you for Christmas last year. 
When Steve sees it, he smiles shyly at you. “I see you kept the gift.”
“Duh,” you walk over to your bed and sit down. “Still one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given.”
“One of?” He asks, tone light but curious. 
Unconsciously, your fingers go to your bee necklace from Jonathan. You play with the pendant and smile softly. “Sorry, Jonathan kinda beat you to it.”
“I figured,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable. “I noticed the necklace the day I gave you the poster. Didn’t want to, uh, assume. I guess. But the necklace was from him?”
“It was,” you clear your throat, talking about Jonathan with Steve has always been such a foreign feeling for you. 
Steve seems to be thinking the same thing and starts to wander around your room instead. You silently thank whatever god is up there for giving you the motivation to clean your room earlier that week. Normally you’re a neat person, but ever since Will started showing signs of post-traumatic stress, you’ve spent more time obsessively researching rather than tidying up.
Therefore, there’s still books strewn across your desk alongside some comics. Steve sees a Spidey one and holds it up with a laugh. “He’s everywhere.”
“He is.” You say proudly, now getting up to go into your closet to pull out the blankets and pillows usually reserved for Jonathan.
Steve wanders around some more as you dig through your closet. He lingers in front of your dresser, which holds photos of you, Dustin, and Jonathan. 
“Here,” you hand the bedding to Steve and motion to where the bean bag is. 
He looks up from a photo of you and Jonathan from last year. It’s your favorite of the two of you, he stands behind you in the picture with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder. You’re both smiling widely at the camera, the moment captured by Will because he wanted to try out the camera Jonathan had gotten that summer. 
“You guys are really close, huh?” Steve asks.
You nod, although confused by his question. He spent half the summer with you and Jonathan at your job. You had conversations about your friendship together, but you suppose it’s different seeing the excess of love you have for the boy within your room. Jonathan is everywhere, if you look hard enough, you’ll find him. 
Steve pauses for a second, as if he wants to say something else, but shakes his head and turns towards the bean bag. He arranges the pillows so that they’re flush against the wall facing your bed, which you think is an odd choice, but say nothing. Once he’s arranged the pillows and blankets, Steve turns to you and clears his throat. 
“I hate to ask this, I really do, but I also don’t want to sleep in these jeans,” he waves his hands over his pants, which have always been a bit together than you thought was necessary. “Any chance I could wear something of Jonathan’s?”
You think for a moment and dig through your dresser. “I’m not sure, but if I can’t find anything of his then I think my old camp t-shirt can fit. As for pants, won’t your boxers work fine?”
Steve’s face turns red and he clears his throat once more, speaking in a slightly squeaky voice, “Y–yeah, I guess so.”
He’s stumbling over his words, which makes you pause. There’s no possible way that he’s nervous right now. He’s usually so confident and comfortable around you. Hell, last summer he offered to be your first kiss (by kissing his fingers and pressing them against your lips, but still). 
“Are you shy right now, Steve?”
“What? No!” He scrambles to the other side of the room, putting as much distance between the two of you as he can. 
You raise your eyebrows at him, but your cheeks are flushed as well. “Okay then, whatever you say.” 
It’s painfully quiet after that as you continue looking for something for Steve to wear. You swear that Jonathan has left behind some of his things, and right before you lose hope, you spot a pair of gray sweats and an old The Clash t-shirt of his. 
“Here,” you toss the clothes to Steve without even checking if he’s looking. You hear a crash and know that he, in fact, had not been looking. 
“Gee, thanks.” He says sarcastically, but you giggle. 
“No problem,” you begin to gather your own pajamas before pointing towards your door. “There’s a bathroom to the left, down the hall. You can change there.” 
“Then our sleepover can commence?”
You wave him off, but you smile anyway at his question. You missed his boyish charms. “Sure, buddy. Go change.”
Steve salutes you and then leaves the room, softly closing the door behind him. You change while he’s gone and tie your hair up. After a few minutes, you assume Steve has had enough time to change and make your way over to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth. You’re so excited to go to bed. 
However, the door is closed when you approach, meaning Steve is still changing. You knock on the door, “Are you almost done in there?”
“I’m having… problems.” 
Your hand hovers over the door, mid knock. “Problems?”
There’s only silence for a moment, almost as if Steve is contemplating elaborating. Finally, after several seconds, he says “I’m definitely taller than Byers.” 
You roll your eyes and begin knocking again, just to annoy Steve, until he finally swings the door open. Before you can even stop it, a loud laugh escapes you. The sweats are at least five inches too short on him, while Jonathan’s shirt is a size too small. He looks absolutely ridiculous. 
“It’s not funny!” Steve whines, his face once again red. “I thought you gave me Jonathan’s clothes, Y/N!” 
More laughter escapes you, making your ribs begin to hurt. Every time you try to speak, you laugh even harder, and it’s impossible for you to get any words out. Steve watches, not amused in the slightest, and crosses his arms as if to appear more dignified. 
“I’m sorry,” you manage to gasp out, more laughs threatening to spill from you. “I guess they’re clothes from when he was fourteen.”
“I’m reconsidering our truce from earlier.” 
This gets you to stop laughing, and you gasp and smack Steve’s chest. “You wouldn’t dare!”
He sighs, hanging his head low. “No, I wouldn’t.”
“Exactly,” his admission makes you giddy. “Now, either make yourself cozy in the bean bag or watch as I brush my teeth. Your choice.”
Steve shrugs and steps to the side so that there’s room for you to enter the bathroom. It’s a tight fit, but he ends up sitting on the edge of the tub and just watches as you begin the process of brushing your teeth. “I didn’t actually think you’d stay, ya know.”
“I know, but I’m bored and you’re here.”
You spit into the sink. “Fair, I guess.”
“Plus,” he picks at his nails, trying to look disinterested while wearing Jonathan’s too small clothes. “We still need to have that talk.”
You pause, toothbrush hanging from your lips as you stare at Steve, wide eyed, in the mirror. Honestly, you were hoping he would’ve forgotten about that. It’s not that you don’t want to know whatever he has to tell you, but you’re tired and still reeling over the fact that he’s spending the entire night in your room. 
“Oh, right.” Turning the faucet off, you finish brushing your teeth and awkwardly wipe your face. Steve watches quietly, and once you’re done, you motion for him to follow you back towards your room. 
As soon as you’re back in your room, Steve immediately curls himself upon the bean bag and brings the blanket all the way up to his chin. Dustin, as always, is right: the bean bag truly is Steve-sized. “Cozy.”
You laugh at him as you crawl into your own bed. “Yeah, I’d hope so. Jonathan has slept in it for years now.”
“Well, uh. Speaking of Jonathan…” Steve sits up a bit so that he can properly look at you. “I wanted to talk. Ya know… About you and him. Nancy, too.”
He pauses, furrows his brows, and then adds. “Actually, I want to talk about what really happened this summer. Everything. I want to know everything.”
“Everything is a lot,” you dodge, turning away from the boy. 
Steve sighs. “Y/N… I missed you.”
Missed.
“I want to be friends again, be how we were before, but… I don’t know. There was a lot unsaid between us. Even from the start. I mean, I understand. I do.” His eyes never leave yours, despite how much you try not to look back at him. “You’re, well–If we’re going to be friends again, I want to start from the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
Now Steve is the one who looks away. “I don’t know, it’s stupid, I guess–”
“It’s not stupid, Steve.” You reassure him. He’s trying, he’s inviting you in after everything you did to him, and it’s all you could’ve asked for. 
But you’re fucking terrified. 
You and Steve became close before, sure, but it was something more surface level. An act between the two of you. While Steve was able to read you over time, learning and asking and paying attention to you, there was still so much you never let him in on. What you haven’t let anyone in on, besides Jonathan. 
If you start from the beginning with Steve, someone you know has come to view you as this selfless and kind person, you’re scared that it’ll change the way he sees you. 
But Steve is looking at you from the bean bag, looking ridiculously cozy with the blanket wrapped around him and his usually carefully curated hair has fallen in his eyes; his gaze is open and trusting. There isn’t a pressure behind it, he would understand if you backed down, but you promised him you’d try. 
To try is to be human.
And you really, really missed Steve. 
“I moved here when I was twelve. My family and I had moved all the way from Virginia after the divorce. I remember being really mean, back then. An angry kid with all this hurt within her that she perpetually displaced upon everyone else.” 
“Angry?” Steve asks, his voice soft. 
You shift uncomfortably in bed, but you remind yourself that you agreed to this. If you’re going to begin again with Steve, then he deserves to know the true person he’s befriending. “Angry. I didn’t take the divorce well. At all. I acted out a lot, closed myself off, and was just a fucking awful person.”
Shifting again, you take a deep breath. “My anger got to the point where Dustin, who was nine, had to practically plead with me to be nicer to him. He was a kid.”
“So were you,” Steve gently chimes in, but you roll your eyes at him. 
“Being a kid didn’t give me an excuse to abandon my loved ones like I did. Like my father did. It wasn’t until Dustin called me out on my bullshit that I realized the irony of the situation. There I was, blaming everyone else for my own problems and running away, because I was so hurt by my father doing the same to me.”
Steve clenches his jaw, and you know he wants to say more, but you watch as he exhales deeply and decides against it. “Okay, so you were mean and then you became kind again after something traumatic… So what?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I mean,” the boy sighs. “I was a dick for like, ten consecutive years. It took losing a fight to Jonathan, embarrassing myself in front of Nancy at least five times, losing my bullshit ‘friends’ Tommy and Carol, and some blonde guy with a fucking mullet before I was even able to become a decent person.” 
You frown. “What’s your point?” 
“My point is that you came back.” Steve shrugs. “The second someone you loved asked you to, you came back to being the selfless angel that you are. Which, by the way, is an impressive feat in itself.” 
He says this as if it’s obvious and that the months you spent hurting everyone around you can be redeemed. As if you haven’t spent every waking hour tirelessly devoting every piece of yourself to those around you to make up for them. To repent for your anger. 
Steve takes your silence as more defiance, and he runs a tired hand through his hair. He’s merely a few feet from you, at the foot of your bed on the bean bag, and yet it feels as if he’s inches yet yards away. “I know I can’t change your mind, but… I think that’s what matters the most in the end, ya know? You became kind.” 
“So did you,” you finally say, not quite ready to accept what he’s saying. 
Now it’s Steve who looks away. “Still working on the whole ‘kind’ thing.”
“Isn’t that what matters in the end?” You tease, feeling yourself warm with pride when you get him to laugh. 
“Touche.” 
Silence falls over the two of you, letting the tension lazily slip away for now. Your body hums with energy; the only other person you’ve told about your father to is Jonathan. You both have long since bonded over shitty father figures. However, even when you had whispered these truths to Jonathan back when you were thirteen, you don’t remember feeling quite so saw and vulnerable as you do right now with Steve. 
“I meant it, you know,” you catch Steve’s eye. “Back when you first drove me home last year. You’re alright. Not too shabby, honestly.”
This time a full body laugh cascades through the boy, He clutches at his stomach as he doubles over, breathless with joy. “Thanks, Y/N.” 
Steve is still laughing and this is the happiest you think you’ve seen him in months. The realization makes all the warmth you’ve felt earlier, vanish. You remember the hurt on his face earlier this week on Halloween, the tears in his eyes when he confessed that Nancy didn’t love him. 
You know how plagued Steve is about never being good enough, and for the first time since you’ve truly gotten to know him: you understand him in that very moment. 
Your eye catches on Steve’s adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s a tragedy, really, how attractive he is. You suppose it’s what caused his downfall, in the end. A pretty boy, rich and popular yet easily able to be taken down; it must be a lonely life with all that vulnerability.
“Can I tell you a secret?” You whisper, voice cutting through the darkness of your room as Steve seems to remember where he is, why and how the conversation started in the first place. 
“Always,”
“I’m scared of the compulsive need I feel to take care of everyone. It’s like… I don’t know, this debt that I feel I owe for existing, for the fear I feel because of my father leaving. I overcompensate for this fear now, terrified I’ll become mean again.”
Steve stares at your ceiling. “The whole ‘debt’ thing, I understand. Believe me. Rather than being a perfect angel, however, I just try my fucking hardest not to disappoint everyone around me and make them leave.”
Nancy, as she always seems to do, lingers between you and Steve now; you both can feel her presence without him having to say her name. He told you what she did to him, you tried to reassure him that it hadn’t been his fault, but Steve isn’t an idiot. 
Nancy never loved him. He knows this, now. 
You don’t say anything, you don’t think he’d want you to. Giving him some time, you allow Steve a few minutes to collect his thoughts, sensing he has more to say. Then, softly, he whispers back to you, “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Always,” you echo. 
“I just want to be loved.” 
With just one confession, a string of six words in succession, Steve Harrington crushes you. 
The words come crashing upon your chest and you wish you could tell him how easily you see yourself falling for him. How, even if you can’t admit it just yet, you’re already falling for him. You think you have been for some time now. 
Somewhere, in between him driving you home last year and the way the summer sun kissed his face months later, you began to fall in love with him. 
While you’re thinking this, Steve is laying in the bean bag, absolutely terrified of the words that have come out of his mouth. He’s always had the fear, deep down, that he was unlovable, but to admit the fear out loud… He’s never felt so weak before.
You’re silent and Steve thinks he’s finally done it. His pathetic need to be liked and loved by everyone around him has finally scared you away. How couldn’t it scare you away? You so naturally are loved by everyone while Steve compulsively demands it because he’s still that scared ten year old boy with a father who never showed him love. 
Then, because you’re an angel, you give Steve the response he hadn’t even known he needed to hear. “It’s natural to want to be loved. We all do. It’s human.”
He exhales at your words, still staring at the ceiling as if to somehow lessen the impact of what you’re telling him. There’s something there, hanging in the air after your words have disappeared, that Steve can’t quite understand. 
It almost sounded like you were trying to reassure yourself, as well.
“What’s the deal with you and Jonathan?” Though Steve’s voice is steady, you can tell that he’s trying not to sound too interested. 
The question is a simple one, but it’s the hardest question you’ve ever had to answer. Everyone asks you, sooner or later, if you and Jonathan are together. You never blame them for asking, because ultimately the two of you are  closer than the average friends, regardless of gender. 
It doesn’t make the question any less painful to answer, though. It doesn’t make hearing Jonathan’s laugh cut any less deeper.
As for Steve, he’s asked this question before, albeit with teasing and disbelief whenever you’ve told him there’s nothing there. Despite the numerous times you’ve corrected him, he’s never quite believed you.
This time, it feels different. There’s a weight behind Steve’s question, and your silence is all the answer that he needs. “You love him.”
The words aren’t a question, and they harbor no malice. He says them as if they are a fact; you suppose that it is. You don’t say anything, but you do nod your head at him. “I do… I think I’ve always loved him, honestly.”
You’ve never, ever said those words out loud. Not to anyone.
And now, you’re confessing them to Steve, who doesn’t have to ask you why your voice now holds melancholy within it. He knows, he’s always somehow known. Jonathan doesn’t love you, a fact in which Steve has never been able to wrap his head around. He’s watched the two of you for years, how easily you love one another, and yet somehow the love never blossomed into something more. 
Everything stills between you and Steve, allowing both your confessions to surround the two of you. “I’m sorry.”
Steve’s apology only causes you to shrug. “He’s still mine, at least for now. Is that so bad?”
“I mean, I guess not, but… Doesn’t it get exhausting?”
“God,” you squeeze your eyes shut, finally able to voice all you’ve been feeling to someone who can understand. “It feels like this crushing weight upon me every time I see him smile, like it’s a burden, carrying all this love within me without being able to express it freely. I just… I never thought that love could be so exhausting. ”
As the words start to come out, you find that you’re unable to stop. “I grew up with Jonathan, I learned the way he breathes and the way his hands feel pressed against my skin, but so much has changed and…” Your breath hitches. “He’s not someone I reach out to first anymore. It almost feels like I can’t. I love him, I do, but I also miss how it used to be before I realized everything.”
The pressure of tears builds behind your eyes and forces you to stop talking. If you say anything else, you’re afraid you’ll start crying. While Steve has been so lovely tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to console you so pathetically. 
Steve seems to hear the tears lacing your voice and speaks for you, having finally pieced together everything he’s been unable to articulate since November of last year. “With Nance, it feels like I’m always somehow two steps behind her and her feelings. Constantly playing catch up while the rules keep changing on me… I get the whole ‘love is exhausting’ thing.”
Though you know Steve means well, his words fucking terrify you. If he feels the same way towards Nancy, a girl who never ended up loving him despite how much he poured his heart out for her, what does that mean for you and Jonathan?
For the first time, you question if the exhaustion you feel surrounding your love for the boy is really something else. Something different, disguised as exhaustion. 
You wonder, deep down, if you’ve started to fall out of love with Jonathan.
Who are you if you have?
The boy has become so intertwined within your life, the threads and strings and lines have tied you to him indefinitely. He’s the reason behind your everything. If you no longer love Jonathan, then who are you, really?
The realization washes over you like cold rain in the middle of winter. It spills over you and pricks at your skin and you suddenly want the conversation to end. While you’re so relieved to be talking to Steve again, the conversation has left you with more realizations than resolutions. 
“It’s late,” you fake a yawn, desperate to cut the conversation short. “We should go to bed. Knowing Dustin, he’ll have us up at the crack of dawn to start looking for Dart.”
Steve sees right through you, he knows he’s somehow crossed a line and that you’re once again retreating. You’re closing yourself off from him again, but he’ll take whatever he can get from you. You’ve told him more than he ever thought you would, so for now he’ll play along. 
“Goodnight, Y/N.” He says, watching as you reach for your lamp and turn the light off. Then, as soon as you’ve rolled over and closed your eyes, you faintly hear his final words. “Don’t we make a pathetic pair?” 
You remember, before drifting off to sleep, feeling relief wash over you that Steve once again considers the two of you a pair.
– 
You wake up the next morning to the faint sounds of Dustin getting ready. His shower can be heard from your room, and through the years it's become your morning alarm. Yawning, you roll over and rub your eyes and take a few minutes to let your brain wake up. 
Bits of yesterday’s events come back to you. 
Dustin confessing about Dart. 
Locking the Demodog in your cellar. 
Radioing everyone in the party for help and getting no response. 
Going to the Wheelers for Mike and coming back with Steve. 
Dart going missing. 
And, most importantly, your bizarre conversation with Steve last night. 
The boy in question lets out a loud snore from the bean bag, blankets haphazardly twisted around his legs, and you stifle a laugh. Even in his sleep, Steve Harrington somehow catches all the attention in the room.  
You throw your blanket off and get out of bed, tiptoeing so as to not wake up the sleeping beauty, and head outside to your kitchen. If yesterday was any indication of how long today will be, then you need all the coffee in the world to get through it. 
The coffee has just finished brewing when you hear Steve stumble into the kitchen. His eyes are bleary and his hair is the worst it’s ever looked. “I guess even Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington can’t escape bed head, huh?”
Steve acknowledges your quip only by grunting, still stumbling around through your home. So he isn’t a morning person, you think with a smile while bringing your coffee mug to your lips and taking a careful sip. 
Eventually Steve makes it to your kitchen table and plops down, letting out a loud yawn and smacking his lips. He looks pathetically endearing, really, especially given his outfit that looks even worse after sleeping in it. The shirt has ridden further up, exposing a bit of his stomach (which you divert your gaze from, feeling yourself blush), and one of his too-short pant legs has ridden up to his knee. 
“You really are a natural beauty in the morning, Steve.” 
“Ha,” he says boredly, looking around the kitchen. “Do you guys have any food? I’m starving.” 
You toss him an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, and Steve only just manages to catch it in time to avoid it hitting his face.
“Christ!” He exclaims, glaring at you when you chuckle at his reaction. Maybe it was a little mean, but you see the small smile he tries to hide. 
“Is this all I get? An apple thrown at my face?”
You walk over to the table and set your mug down. “Were you expecting a home cooked meal?” 
“You’ll have to earn a Y/N Henderson breakfast,” Dustin says as he enters the kitchen and joins the two of you. His hair is still wet from his shower and he drips onto the counter, which makes you cringe. He’s such a boy, sometimes. 
He makes his way over to the fridge and rustles around, looking for something to eat. Truthfully, the reason you threw the apple at Steve is because there’s no food in your house at the moment. Your mom normally goes to the grocery store on Saturdays, and in her frantic rush to find Mews she hadn't left any money for you to go to the store. 
“There’s no food,” you inform your brother. 
He sighs dejectedly, grabbing a banana and then plopping himself next to Steve at the table. “All right, are you two awake enough to discuss the plan?” 
You nod immediately at Dustin’s question while Steve slumps further into his seat, groaning. You run a hand through his hair to try and settle down his theatrics. Dustin sees this and raises an eyebrow at you, but you shake your head and motion for him to keep quiet. 
“So,” he takes a bite from his banana and begins speaking with his mouth full, which you make a face at. “I was thinking we lure Dart with bait to a secure area that we can catch him in.” 
“Wait,” Steve sits up a bit in his seat, careful to not knock your hand off his head. “That’s all you got? That’s the entire plan?”
“Yes. Is there a problem?” 
“Oh, I don’t know,” he begins eating as well, his mouth also full and disgusting to look at, “Do you know how we’ll lure him? Or where? Better yet, how will we even catch him?” 
Dustin narrows his eyes. “Okay, so it’s a working idea. You got anything better?”
Steve opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He pauses for a second before seemingly drawing a blank and closing his mouth; he sinks back into his seat in defeat.
“That’s what I thought.” Dustin says smugly.
You take another sip of coffee, enjoying the mug’s warmth around your fingers. “Well, we at least know what Dart likes to eat.”
“We do?” Steve questions, looking up at you.
“Oh, just wait until you hear this,” you motion over to Dustin. “Go on, tell Steve what you’ve been feeding Dart.”
Now it’s your brother’s turn to sink into his seat, embarrassed. He mumbles something that Steve can’t quite hear.
“What?”
He mumbles again, only a tiny bit louder this time.
“Little Henderson, I can’t understand you.” Steve says, smirking when he feels you laugh against him. 
“I said he eats Musketeers Bars!” Dustin shouts, now incredibly defensive. 
In sync, you and Steve share a look. While you have an exasperated fondness on your face, Steve looks like he’s questioning every choice he’s made in his life. It’s cute that he thinks this is the weirdest things will get.
“Okay…” Steve looks over at your brother. “Unless you plan on buying out an entire candy store, we need something else for bait.”
In the corner of your eye you see Mews’ cat bed laying against the window, and an idea pops into your head. “Dustin, did Dart only eat the candy bars before he killed our cat?”
“Yeah, why?” 
As you walk over to the kitchen sink to place your mug in it, you begin explaining. “Then clearly he’s outgrown his sugar needs and would probably eat just about anything with flesh on it.”
Steve wrinkles his face with displeasure, not enjoying the thought of going after this monster that craves meat. He’s already done that, and call him crazy, but he really doesn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. 
Dustin’s eyes light up, following along with what you’re saying. “Raw meat! You’re a genius, Y/N!” 
“And then we can follow the train tracks to that old junkyard, the one that El brought you guys to last year. It’s a straight shot, Dart won’t get lost, and then we catch him.”
Dustin squeals. “That’s perfect!”
He stands up to hug you, which you gladly accept. “Yeah, yeah. We Hendersons are known for our genius,” you gently push your brother away and start exiting the kitchen. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Steve, you’ll take Dustin to the butcher and see if you can haggle some raw meat out of him.” 
“Uh… can I change first?” He asks, running a hand through his hair with displeasure. 
Only now does Dustin notice Steve’s appearance and he lets out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think you look great!”
You shoot your brother a warning look, not wanting to upset Steve too much. He’s the only one with a car, and the party still hasn’t responded to Dustin’s calls, so he’s all you have right now. Plus, after last night’s conversation, you’re sure he’s feeling just as wound up and tense as you are. 
“We can swing by your place on our way to the train tracks. Your house is right next to it, anyways, and Dustin and I can scout the parameters while you shower and get yourself all pretty. For now, just go to the butcher's shop, please.” 
“But–” 
“Please, Steve?” You pout, daring him to argue with you again. Steve is only able to stand his ground for about five seconds before he groans and nods his head.
“Fine–” You quickly hug him before running towards the bathroom to get ready. 
Once you’re gone, Steve searches for his keys while Dustin stands in the kitchen, shocked. “I so need to know when you two became such good pals.”
“Go wait by the car, Little Henderson.” Steve waves him off, though he’s secretly pleased with how the morning is turning out so far.
“C’mon, man. It’s just chunks of raw meat, it doesn’t even matter what, uh, body parts they are, I guess.” Steve argues with the butcher, having no idea why you’ve sent him on this journey with Dustin. Neither of them have any idea about butchers and meat, so they’ve been arguing back and forth for a solid ten minutes with the guy. 
“And I already told you, it’ll be $15. Take it or leave it, pretty boy.” Pat, the butcher, says. 
Steve scowles at the name, “That’s insane for five pounds, you realize that? It’s just a bunch of meat chunks from god knows where, it’s not like we want prime rib you dirty sack of–” 
Dustin cuts him off, snatching the boy’s wallet from his back pocket and pulling out a twenty. “Ignore him, please! Here, thank you so much for your lovely service, good sir.”
Pat narrows his eyes at the boy, and for a split second Dustin is afraid that he’s trying to figure out the best way to skin them alive, before he simply grunts and takes the money. 
Relief washes over Dustin and he scrambles to grab the bags of meat, tugging at Steve’s sleeve in urgence until he gives in and begins to help as well. Within a few seconds, they’ve gathered all they need and head towards the car. 
“Keep the change!” Dustin calls out behind him. 
As soon as they’re in the car, he yells at Steve to step on it. It’s already been twenty minutes since they left the house, and he knows from experience to never keep you waiting. 
“Okay, okay, god.” Steve complies, pushing down on the gas and speeding away from the butcher’s shop. 
The smell of raw meat immediately infiltrates the car, so Steve rolls down the windows and sighs. This is definitely not the weekend he had in mind. He thought he’d apologize to Nancy, kiss and hopefully make up, and maybe even swing by your place to tell you the good news. 
Instead, he has buckets of raw meat in his car and his head is swimming from his conversation with you from last night. While he’s happy it happened, there’s still so much Steve feels like you aren’t telling him. To top it all off, he hadn’t been able to sleep in his own bed, but rather a bean bag that Jonathan apparently has slept in a million times before. 
As Steve is moping, he realizes that there actually wasn’t even a real need to spend the night. 
“Hey, Little Henderson,” Steve gently hits Dustin’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why did I have to spend the night at your place?” 
“Oh, you didn’t.” Dustin says as if it’s no big deal.
Steve turns his head towards him, “I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually spend the night if we’re being honest. I just thought it’d be funny to mess with you.” 
“I tried arguing with you, but you shushed me!” Steve exclaims, putting both hands back on the steering wheel aggressively. 
The younger boy shrugs, “What are you, seventeen? Eighteen? Why would you listen to a thirteen year old?” 
“Well, I–” As much as he wants to, Steve really can’t defend himself on this one. Shit. It’s not like he can tell Dustin that he mostly stayed because his sister is pretty and makes him feel safe.
Dustin smiles, happy to have won the conversation at hand, and decides to really rub it in as they pull up to the house. “I also thought it’d be hilarious to pair you up with my sister. Hope you two made smart choices last night.”
And with those words, Dustin springs out the car, leaving a speechless Steve behind. He turns the car off and sits there for a moment, completely at a loss for words. He’s only spent a total of sixteen hours with the kid, and already he knows he’s in for a world more of trouble. 
If you’re Hawkins’ sweetheart, then Dustin is the town’s horribly terrifying weasel. 
Meanwhile, you’ve just finished lacing up your shoes when Dustin walks in.
“Where are the rubber gloves that mom likes?” He asks in lieu of greeting you. 
“In the closet, second shelf, next to her cat figurines. Where’s Steve?”
Dustin rustles around the closet and pulls out three sets of gloves, “In the car, moping.” 
There’s a crash and then he tosses two buckets onto the carpet. You crouch down and grab the buckets, placing them on the table. “Why is he moping?”
“Why is who moping?” The man in question walks in, throwing himself on the couch and narrowly dodging the third bucket that Dustin throws out. “Why do you guys keep throwing shit at me, jesus!” 
“Language! There’s kids around,” You snap your fingers at Steve, who quickly cowers in shame. “And if it makes any difference, the bucket wasn’t intentional. The rest were, though.” 
Just as Dustin is finishing up in the closet, you spot a can of gasoline and an idea sparks in your head. If you learned anything at Jonathan’s house last year, it’s that these Demogorgon things really hate fire. “Hey, grab the gasoline as well.”
He does as he’s told, no questions asked, and then hands it to you. You add it to the pile on the table, along with two backpacks from your brother and your beloved switchblade. 
Steve gets up from the couch to investigate your stash, nodding approvingly. “Not bad, guys. What are we going to put in the backpacks, though?” 
Dustin goes into the kitchen and begins grabbing the few items within it. The remaining fruits in the basket, a few pieces of bread, a bag of chips, and some water bottles. “One bag will have our food, the other will have our weapons.” 
And with that, you guys are all set to head out. While Dustin is distracted with grabbing his backpack, you run towards Steve’s car and throw yourself into the passenger seat. Every man for himself. 
“What– Y/N!” He calls after you, but he’s too late. You’ve already buckled yourself up by the time he and Steve get into the car themselves. 
“She beat ya, buddy.” Steve teases, flashing you a proud smile. 
Dustin grumbles in the backseat, unamused, and for a moment you think he’ll leave it at that. However, because he’s Dustin, you see from the rearview mirror as his eyes spark with revenge. “So, Steve.”
The tone in his voice terrifies you. 
You place your head in your hands and sigh, mentally preparing for whatever your brother is about to say. 
“Yes, Dustin?”
“How long have you been friendly with my sister?”
“Dustin!” You whip your head around, lunging towards the back seat to swat at the boy, but he quickly scoots over to Steve’s side and avoids your hands. 
Steve, however, surprises you by simply shrugging and taking the question in stride. There’s no embarrassment on his face, no ounce of hesitation in his voice. “About a year now.”
“A year?” Dustin exclaims, having completely not expected such a response. “Y/N, how could you keep this from me?”
“She didn’t hide anything from you, buddy.” Steve defends you, eyes focused on the road. “I convinced her to be my friend after I saved her life–”
“You saved her life?”
“And then bought you boys snacks at the hospital afterwards. Then, because I really wanted to be her friend, I basically stalked her at work every day and annoyed my way into her life. We’ve been pretty close ever since.”
Dustin’s jaw is practically on the ground after Steve’s quick explanation, left speechless for the first time in his life. As for you, you’re admiring the way the early morning sun causes Steve to glow. You’ll never be over how often his beauty distracts you; you wonder how Nancy, or really anyone, could deny him love.
If you didn’t know Steve, if you passed by him on the street one day as complete strangers, you’re sure that a part of you would fall in love with him. 
Even with pieces of his hair standing all over the place, his shirt still being too small, he was a delicate kind of handsome that made you feel a certain warmth.
“Did I forget anything, Y/N?” Steve’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, and you quickly divert your eyes away from the way his arms look while holding the steering wheel. 
“No, uh.” You clear your throat, still recovering. Steve seems to be in good spirits for once, it’s a breath of fresh air seeing him so content, and yet it also serves as a stark reminder that you made the right choice when you first distanced yourself from him. He’s just too easy to love. “I think you pretty much covered everything. Unless Dustin has any questions?”
“Give me three to five business days to process this, please.” Your brother mumbles from the backseat, which you and Steve laugh at. 
The rest of the ride is relatively peaceful after that, and a few minutes later you arrive at Steve’s house. It’s different in the daylight, only ever having seen it late one night driving the boy home from the Halloween party. 
It’s a beautiful home, the smell of chlorine fills your nose. The pool, you remember Nancy mentioning his pool when she explained what happened to Barb. You shiver, now aware that you’re in the same place that your friend took her last breaths at, just a year ago. 
“The tracks are just over on the other side of the street, and I shouldn’t be too long, so you Hendersons can start figuring out the plan in the meantime.” Steve instructs you and Dustin, getting out of the car and entering his house. 
Dustin begins getting out as well, so you unbuckle your seatbelt and follow. Thankfully you decided to wear jeans today with a simple tank top and cardigan with your knit socks; though it was late October, it’s unusually sunny outside and the walk from Steve’s to the junkyard was easily four to five miles. 
The two of you walk over to the tracks and you survey the area. You’re not sure what exactly you’re looking for, but you figure it’s best to look focused in case Dustin yells at you. 
“We’ll need to go that way,” Dustin points in front of you, and you nod as you follow along. “We can drop the meat chunks every few sleepers so we don’t waste any of it.” 
“Sleepers?”
“These.” Dustin’s shoe scrapes against the bottom wooden planks. 
“You would know what they’re called.”
“Ha ha, any more quips or can I continue?”
You put your hands up in surrender and Dustin begins to speak again.
“Then once we get to the junkyard, we can dump whatever meat is left in a pile and put the gasoline on it. Once Dart is distracted and eating, we’ll light it on fire.” His words catch a bit at the end, and you suddenly feel bad for him. He clearly still cares about Dart, but you know your brother understands the risks of letting the Demodog live. 
Without saying anything, you reach over and pull Dustin in for a hug. He fights it at first, but after a couple seconds he gives in and hugs you back. You aren’t the most affectionate pair of siblings, but you love your younger brother fiercely. Not for the first time, you wish you could’ve done more to prevent him from discovering the Upside Down. 
You know it’s irrational to blame yourself and feel guilty, but maybe if you’d been more involved last year, then maybe he wouldn’t have so many nightmares. 
“I’m sorry about Dart,” you say softly against his hat. 
Dustin breaks away, shrugging his shoulders. “Gotta protect the party, right?”
“Right.” You flick his hat. “C’mon, let’s go back to the car and start putting the meat in the buckets.” 
True to his word, Steve is ready to go after about twenty minutes. He walks out of his house, freshly clean and put together, right as you and Dustin finish preparing the bait. He approaches from behind you, and you can smell his cologne. Memories from when he’d have his arms around you and you’d smell the familiar scent now wash over you. 
Clearing your throat, you turn to hand him gloves and a bucket, but almost drop it when you see him. 
He looks good. Like, frustratingly good. His hair is back in its usual style, but he’s wearing a dark blue polo and a gray jacket that fits him criminally well. You almost feel underdressed standing next to him with your ratty old cardigan, which you know is ridiculous to be concerned about. Plus, you’ve always known that Steve was attractive, so it’s stupid to be affected by it suddenly now. 
You guys had one emotional conversation. 
“Y/N?” 
Steve’s staring at you quizzically, and you quickly snap out of your thoughts and hand him the bucket full of bait and instruct him to put the gloves on. He listens, dutifully putting them on and placing the bucket on the ground and starts searching for one of the backpacks in the trunk. He’s seemingly in a much better mood now, which you’re thankful for. 
“Dustin! This is Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin?” 
Lucas’ voice rings out from Dustin’s walkie, and you perk your head up, relieved that he’s okay. The radio silence from the party was something that unnerved you immensely. With Dart on the loose, Will’s increasing episodes, who knows what else is happening in Hawkins at the moment? 
“Well, well, well, look who it is.” Dustin responds, placing his hands on his hips like a disappointed mother. You chuckle at him and continue helping Steve unload the trunk. 
You hear Lucas sigh into the walkie. “Sorry, man. My stupid sister turned it off.” 
“Tell Erica I say hi!” You call out, knowing Lucas will hear you. He always resented the fact that his sister is so nice to you. You’re the only living person who didn’t receive Erica’s insane insults, which is something you’re very proud of.
“Y/N?”
“Hi, Lucas!” 
Dustin shoos you away and continues to speak. “Well, when you were having sister problems, which really aren’t that hard to handle–” 
“Says you,” you butt in. 
“Dart grew again, he escaped, and I’m pretty sure he’s a baby Demogorgon.” Your brother finishes. By this point, you and Steve have pretty much unpacked everything in the car. 
“Wait, what?” You’d kill to see the look on Lucas’ face right now. 
“I’ll explain later, just meet me, Y/N, and Steve at the old junkyard.” As Dustin wraps up the conversation, Steve shoves his bat into the bag and you watch him with disappointment. He’s trying really hard to make it fit, and you almost pity the boy. Bless him. 
There’s a pause before Lucas asks, “Steve?”
Dustin doesn’t elaborate, instead instructing his friend to bring his binoculars and wrist rocket. You suppose it’s a good idea to add more weapons to your arsenal. Better safe than sorry.
“Steve Harrington?” Lucas asks again, this time even more confused. 
“He’s a friend,” you say, shoving your own weapons into the bag and slinging it over your shoulder. 
Steve closes the trunk and says, “Damn straight I am. Alright, let’s go.”
You follow after him, saying goodbye to Lucas as Dustin tells him to be at the junkyard stat. 
Dustin stashes his walkie in his own bag and then the three of you are off. Your brother and Steve walk a bit ahead of you as you all throw the meat chunks onto the ground, doing as Dustin instructed. It’s slow work, but you’re happy to have some time to yourself while the boys are distracted with each other. Their friendship wasn’t something you’d expect, but you’re incredibly happy about it.
You love the party, you’d do anything for them given all that you’ve been through together. However, as they grow older, you can’t help but notice how much they’re changing. Mike hasn’t been himself since El disappeared, Dustin is now hyper focused on science, Lucas is becoming his own person, and poor Will is just trying to recover from the trauma of last year. 
It’s been hard watching them grow apart, in a way. Nothing will ever be the same after the Upside Down, you know that, but watching the party slowly drift makes you sad for your brother. You’re glad he’s seemingly found someone like Steve to bounce jokes off of and feel appreciated by. You know that someday the kids will all come together again, it’d be impossible not to with how strong of a connection they all have, so you try not to worry too much.
You shove the thoughts down, you need to keep focused on Dart and contacting the rest of the party. So, you dutifully place the bait down and follow behind the boys and feel the time pass by. After about an hour of nonsensical conversation between Steve and Dustin, you hear the older boy finally ask the question of why your brother even hid Dart in the first place. 
“It’s complicated, okay?” Dustin defects, clearly uncomfortable with the change in conversation.
You keep your distance from them, but you keep an ear out just in case you need to intervene. 
“You claim you wanted to get famous off of it or whatever,” Steve drops meat onto the tracks and kicks his foot. “Call me crazy, but you don’t hide something that supposedly makes you famous.” 
He has a point, and Dustin scrunches his face up. He casts a glance your way and you do your best to appear distracted by the job at hand. You know Dustin’s guilty face well, so whatever he’s about to tell Steve will be good. When Dustin shuffles closer to Steve and lowers his voice, you get closer as well so you can listen.
You’re his older sister. It’s your damn job to be nosy.
“It was for this girl.” 
Simultaneously you and Steve react. He hums in approval, almost proud, while you scoff. “I knew it.”
Dustin turns around, horrified. “You knew?”
“Duh, you’re awful at hiding things from me. After Max was just conveniently outside the AV room when Dart originally escaped, I pieced it together immediately. Also, side note: you’re too young to be impressing girls. I told you to just be yourself, dummy.”
Steve lets out a snort. “Pretty ironic coming from you, Y/N.”
Suddenly you feel uncomfortable with his attention on you.
“I’m sorry?” Your voice is steady, but you can feel your hands shaking as you continue throwing the bait. 
“Ya know, your massive crush on Jonathan ever since you were twelve.” He laughs, as if it’s the funniest joke in the world. 
Dustin clears his throat aggressively, pointing to your hands. Steve sees the way that they shake, the tension you now carry in your shoulders, and he’s become familiar enough with you to know your anger cues. The teasing smile that had been on his face drops. He runs towards you so he’s now by your side, and Dustin sighs in disappointment. 
“I didn’t, like, mean anything by that, you know. I–uh, I was kidding, Y/N.” Steve tries to catch your gaze, but you pointedly stare straight ahead and clench your jaw. He’s stumbling over both his words and the tracks beneath his feet, trying desperately to appease you. “Shit, I’m sorry.”
“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington.” 
“Y/N, please, I said I was sorry–”
You finally face him, grabbing his elbow to ensure he doesn’t move. “I told you that stuff about Jonathan in confidence. You don’t get to throw it back in my face, joking or not.” 
It doesn’t help that you’re already confused enough as it is about the boy and your feelings towards him. To have Steve tease you about it, especially because he knows how painful jabs about Nancy are… It really fucking hurts. 
Steve looks like a kicked puppy as you storm ahead of him and Dustin, putting enough distance between you guys so that you can’t hear their conversion that follows. 
“Shit…”
“You’re awful with women.” Dustin says, now continuing to walk. He doesn’t bother to follow after you, knowing that you need your space to cool down. “I wouldn’t follow her, by the way. Let her cool off.”
Steve sighs, now walking as well, “Yeah, I know.” 
They walk in silence for a little while, Steve hanging his head in shame and Dustin leading the way, frustrated by being stuck with two overly emotional teens. 
After a while the silence eats at Steve, so he decides to continue the conversation from earlier. “So, this girl… is she someone you’ve known a while?” 
Dustin shakes his head, “No, she’s new at our school. She’s super cool, though.”
“I remember back when I based my attraction to girls on their coolness.” Steve mumbles. 
“And look where basing it off their hotness has gotten you.” 
“Ouch,” Steve rubs at his chest, wounded.
Dustin laughs and flings some bait at him. “I thought that if I showed her Dart, she’d think I was cool, too, and like me.”
Steve sidesteps the thrown bait and tries to comprehend what the younger boy is saying. “So, you kept something that you knew was probably dangerous in order to impress a girl who… you just met?”
“Alright, that’s grossly oversimplifying things. And anyways, who are you to give me girl advice? My sister is literally three hundred feet ahead of us because you pissed her off with one singular sentence.” Then, almost as if as an afterthought, Dustin adds, “congrats, by the way. I’ve never seen someone piss her off so quickly.” 
“Look, this isn’t about me, okay? Sure, I messed up with Y/N, but it isn’t like I was hitting on her to begin with,” Dustin makes a disgusted face as Steve quickly continues, panicked. “So she doesn’t count. I just feel like you’re trying way too hard, man.” 
“Well, not everyone can have your perfect hair, alright?” Dustin grumbles. 
Steve shakes his head, slightly amused by the boy’s antics. He’s so much like you, and yet so different, and Steve is realizing it’ll take a lot to keep up with the kid. “It’s not about the hair, dude. Chicks dig more than just a good hairstyle.” 
“You’re literally known as Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.”
“Hey, ‘King Steve’ is also there.” 
Dustin flings even more bait at Steve, now annoyed with him. “Whatever man, it’s not like you’d be any help anyways.” 
“Oh really? Well, Little Henderson, I’m about to blow your mind: the key to girls is just acting like you don’t care.”
“Even if you do?”
“Yeah, exactly.” Steve now brightens up, happy to finally be getting through to the boy. For Steve, he’s long since learned that the best way to avoid getting hurt is to pretend that he doesn’t care. “It drives them nuts.”
“Then what?” 
“You just wait,” Steve looks ahead, watching you and feeling like a complete dick. He really hadn’t meant to hurt you, hell the two of you were finally starting to get somewhere and yet… Steve fucked it up. As always. 
He can see that your shoulders are still tensed up, you’re walking faster than you need to be. He feels a heavy weight in his stomach, one that he’s never felt before; he doesn’t like it. “You wait… until you feel it.”
Dustin furrows his brows. “Feel what?”
Steve tears his gaze away from you and turns back to Dustin, beginning to explain the electricity between someone you’re interested in. Being the geek that he is, Dustin turns it into a scientific discussion and Steve does his best to steer the conversation back. 
“No, like sexual electricity.” He explains.
As soon as the words leave Steve’s lips, you whip around and shout, “Are you seriously talking to my little brother about sexual electricity?”
Both Dustin and Steve freeze in place, dumbfounded. You let out a loud groan and continue stomping away, now even more aggressively throwing the chunks at the train tracks. 
“How did she even hear me?” Steve whispers, terrified. 
“I don’t know,” Your brother whispers back, also equally frightened. “Sometimes I think she has powers like El.”
Once you’re a safe enough distance away from them, Dustin hesitantly brings the girl conversation back up. “Hypothetically, what do girls like?”
Steve takes a second to answer, carefully rolling the question around in his mind. “It depends on the girl. Some girls want you to be aggressive, ya know? Go in for the kiss, make them feel protected. Strong, hot and heavy. Like a lion.” 
Dustin hums to indicate he’s following along, but ‘like a lion’ has him a little worried about the reliability of the conversation. He knows that Steve is a lady’s man, but he’s also never seen him with any girl besides Nancy, and the one time he saw him with you, he had immediately pissed you off. 
So for all Dustin knows, it could be lies. 
Steve continues his confusing explanation. “But others? You gotta be slow, you gotta be stealthy… like a ninja!”
“Okay, what type is Nancy?” Dustin asks, hoping to get the teen to stop making stupid analogies. Lions, ninjas… maybe it was all lies. 
The question catches Steve off guard and he stumbles a bit, feeling the familiar sense of protectiveness, insecurity, over the girl as well as a new sense of loss. What type is Nancy? If he had been asked this a week ago, Steve would’ve told Dustin that she’s a nice girl, a girl he could happily bring home to his parents and proudly wrap around his arms. Now? He’s not so sure. 
Not when he can still see the anger and disgust in Nancy’s eyes that night at the party. 
“Nancy’s different,” he recalls his conversation with you from last night, how he’d confessed to always feeling two steps behind the girl and how exhausting it all is. “She’s just different. Let’s move on to the next question.” 
Dustin notices Steve’s change in demeanor but doesn’t say anything. He supposes that you and him have a lot in common, then. “Okay, what type would you say Y/N is?”
Once again Steve isn’t expecting the question Dustin asks. “What–” he trips over a twig and just barely manages to catch himself. “Why would you ask me that? She’s your sister, and I don’t even like her–”
“Relax, Romeo. She’s just similar to Nancy and the girl I like, and I figured you’d know Y/N well enough by now considering you guys slept together–”
“I slept on her bean bag–”
“And have been friends for like, a year. Plus, she’s in love with Jonathan, you’re in love with Nancy, and coincidentally they’re in love with each other. Figures that there’s some type intermingling between the four of you.”
How the hell does everyone know about Nancy and Jonathan? Steve thinks bitterly. 
He’s silent for multiple seconds, absolutely at a loss for what to say. He doesn’t know where to begin or what to even deny. Technically the boy is right, as much as it hurts Steve to admit. He’s all but lost Nancy to Jonathan, and you’ve lost Jonathan to Nancy. 
In an extremely messed up way, you and Nancy do have the same type. On top of that, both you and Nancy are close to Jonathan, so it’s safe to assume there’s similarities to the both of you that Steve doesn’t even want to touch on right now.
Even more importantly, Steve has yet to really decipher why your presence alone can make or break his entire day. Why, after months of not talking, it now feels like he’s finally come home again with you back in his life. 
He looks at you again, still angrily throwing your bait, and he supposes that you’re a lot like Nancy in certain aspects, and yet completely different from her. “Y/N is also different, I guess. She’s incredibly intelligent both emotionally and academically. Isn’t she like the top of her class?”
Dustin nods, proud of the Henderson intelligence, and Steve continues. 
“Right. I’d say she’s like Nancy, except she’s softer?” Steve cringes at his own words, suddenly uncomfortable with comparing the two of you. In his mind, you’re both your own separate entities that infatuate him in different ways. 
You both burn Steve; Nancy is like a shot of whiskey, the thrill that follows the burn. But you? You’re a fireplace after hours of being out in the cold, the burn of it warming his bones.
“Y/N is just… she’s special, but everyone knows that. Your sister is the most caring person I’ve ever met, and I know I’m a lucky son of a bitch to be someone she trusts.” 
Dustin snorts. “Yeah you are.”
Up ahead, you finally slow down and face the boys, now waiting for them to catch up and call out, “C’mon, ladies! The sun sets soon, I don’t want Lucas waiting in the cold all alone.” 
“Looks like I’ve been forgiven.” Steve says, relief evident in his voice, something that your brother doesn’t miss.
Dustin lets out another loud snort, patting him on the chest, “Oh, my sister may be forgiving, but she never forgets.” With that, he walks away to catch up with you. 
“Well, isn’t that ominous.” 
You greet the boys with a tired smile, knowing there’s no use holding resentment towards Steve. He couldn’t have known about your mixed feelings towards Jonathan, you know he had only been trying to get along with Dustin. 
Things are still weird between you two, despite the conversation from last night, but it’s hard to stay mad at Steve and honestly, you don’t really want to be mad at him. It’s been so lovely having him around again, and your own confusing feelings can wait. 
Steve leans in close to you, gently grabbing at your hand so that you don’t walk away. “Hey, we okay?”
His eyes are full of concern and his voice is sickly sweet like honey. With the honey, the remaining bits of anger vanishes. “Of course we’re okay.”
Steve exhales deeply and you giggle at him before remembering that Dustin is quite literally a few feet away from you two. Coughing, you hold up your bucket to point out how it’s almost empty. “I guess in my rage, I flung more than I intended. How are your buckets holding up?” 
The two boys hold their buckets up, giving you a mock solute to indicate that all is good. You laugh, impressed by how synched they’ve become in such a short time. 
“Alright, then. Let’s get going.” As you all begin to walk in line again, you ask, “What were you guys even talking about, anyways?” 
The boys glance at each other in a conspiring way, which causes you to roll your eyes. They’re acting like you asked for their deepest and darkest secrets. They seem to have a silent conversation for a couple seconds before Steve finally speaks up. 
“I was just giving Little Henderson some girl advice. Nothing serious.” 
You raise your eyebrows, your heart swelling a bit at the idea of Steve giving your brother advice. It’s sweet, really. “Girl advice, huh?”
“Yeah, why do you sound so skeptical?” 
“Because you’re terrible with girls.” 
Dustin now butts in, “He told me to be aggressive.” 
“I did not!”
“He also said that you’re softer than Nancy.”
You make a face. “Thank you? I think?”
Steve tugs at his hair in frustration. “You two are the worst people I’ve ever met. You know that, right?” 
In unison, you and Dustin reply, “We get that a lot.” 
Steve stares at the two of you with slight horror in his eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’m out.” 
You grab at his sleeve, gently stopping him from storming away. You give him an apologetic look and pull him close so that your chest bumps against his. “You’ve gotta get used to the Henderson humor, Steve.”
He looks surprised by your tugging at his sleeve before he lets a smile cross his face. He doesn’t do anything else, but he also doesn’t back away, either, and you find yourself blushing a bit under his gaze. 
You clear your throat and let go of his sleeve, stepping back a bit. “Anyways, why don’t you tell me what wise advice you have for my brother.” 
The smile that was just on Steve’s face vanishes as he looks away from you. “I was just telling the kid to not fall in love with his little crush. He’s too young for heartbreak and all that other shit.” 
“I’m not in love with her!” Dustin exclaims in disgust, but you’re too distracted by Steve’s words to assure your brother that you believe him. 
“Well, I believe that love is something beautiful.” You say, your words only meeting Steve’s turned back. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you know his indifference holds no malice. He’s still hurting, still in love with Nancy Wheeler. “Dustin, you may be too young to be in love, but don’t listen to Steve. To love and be loved is the luckiest thing we can ever do, regardless of how it ends.” 
Dustin blanches at your words, grossed out now. “Okay, okay, stop! Love is gross. I get it.” 
You softly mumble sorry to him, now suddenly remembering that he’s only thirteen. When you were his age, the idea of love also grossed you out. Now, love is a concept that you’ve found a comforting warmth in, even if it's burned you a few times and has left you more exhausted than exhilarated. One day he’ll understand (in the far off future, hopefully). 
For now, you flick your brother’s hat and follow after Steve, finishing the rest of the bait journey in silence. 
– 
By the time the three of you get to the junkyard, it’s already about midday. 
It’s different from how you imagined it, filled with old cars and a giant school bus. It’s more open, too, not as “junkyard” as you assumed. 
You, Steve, and Dustin stand at the top of the hill, surveying the area. Your feet ache from the walk and the sun is hurting your eyes. Seeing you squinting, Steve wordlessly hands you his signature Raybans and motions for you to put them on. 
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, this will do. It’ll do just fine,” He says, satisfied as he begins to walk down the hill. Then, as an afterthought, he says to Dustin, “Good call, dude.”
Dustin beams with pride and you fill with so much happiness, seeing the boy getting along so well with Steve, that you almost regret not having them meet sooner. However, there’s no time to wallow in what-if’s and you put Steve’s sunglasses on to follow after the boys. 
Immediately you and Steve get to work, working seamlessly together side by side, months of him joining you in Bookstrordinary finally being put to use. While you and Steve silently scatter more meat and grab supplies, Dustin surveys the area.
Just as you’ve dumped the remaining meat in the middle of the field, you hear Lucas’ voice call from a few yards away, “I said medium well!”
The boy is with Max, who looks slightly displeased, yet curious, to be here. Despite her still obvious hesitation, you still feel excited seeing the girl. You’ve been meaning to talk more to her, she seems like such a lovely girl. 
“Who’s that?” Steve asks you.
“Max! She’s great, and–” You start gushing about the girl, eager to go and say hi, before you see the crestfallen look on Dustin’s face when he realizes why she’s with Lucas. You remember, then, the weird tug-of-war between the boys over her. Shit. 
You grab at Steve’s hand and pull him aside. “Actually, Steve, why don’t we start finding some panels to cover the bus?”
Steve gives you a questioning look, but when you silently motion towards Dustin and he sees his despair as well, he catches on and just nods, following along. Without having to tell him, he understands that you want to leave Dustin alone so he can talk to Lucas. 
As always, you’re forever thankful that he can read you so well. 
After guiding Steve away, you and him begin to prep the junkyard alongside Max. While the boys are talking, you take this as an opportunity to get to know the girl better. 
“So,” you begin, helping Max carry a large piece of wood over to the bus. “I see you’re back again.”
“Looks like it,” she shrugs, not really feeling like talking. Seems like she’s still mad at you for yesterday, taking Lucas’ side over hers. 
You sigh. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“That’s a first.” Again she deflects, but you know she’s doing it out of hurt rather than maliciousness. 
“I know you don’t really like me right now, which I totally understand, I just wanted to let you know that while I don’t like that you’ve been dragged into this mess, I’m happy you’re here.”
Max frowns at you. “You guys act like I’m going to like, die or something.”
A scrap of metal that you’d been carrying slips from your hands. Steve hears this and comes rushing over to help, but you gently wave him away and focus on Max. “I don’t know what Lucas told you, but it’s all true. It’s dangerous, being here, and I just… If you ever get hurt, any of you kids, then it’d be on me and I’d never forgive myself.”
“Way to be a buzzkill, Y/N.” Steve nudges you, trying to get you to smile before your ever-present guilt bears down upon you. 
Max bites her lip, still disbelieving, but she recognizes the pained look of protectiveness on your face. It’s not something that someone can easily fake, and from what she’s heard about you, your kindness is one of the few genuine things in Hawkins. 
Before she can say anything else, Steve lets out a huff and grabs a chair to bang on the car that Lucas and Dustin are talking behind. “Hey! Dickheads! How come it’s only Y/N and some random girl helping me?”
“Language!” You chastise. 
Steve sends you a thumbs up, not really listening. “We lose light in forty minutes. Let’s go!”
Dustin and Lucas reluctantly start helping, both calling Steve an asshole and throwing him dirty looks, which you can’t help but laugh at. 
Lucas sees you laughing and points at you. “Are you the reason Harrington is here?”
“Mhm,” you respond, nailing another piece of wood to the bus. “He’s done more to help than you have, so either pick up some metal and help or go sit in a corner and sulk. Up to you.”
Steve high fives you. “Yeah! What she said!”
Lucas’ shoulders sag, completely at a loss as to how any of this has happened. “This is so weird.”
“Dude, I’ve spent all day with them. Imagine how I feel,” Dustin groans. “I think I died a little when I found out they’ve been friends for like, a year.”
“A year?” Lucas gasps. 
“Guys!” You throw pebbles at the two boys to break up their little gossip session. “One, I’m incredibly hurt you two didn’t think I had any friends besides Jonathan. Two, start helping before I throw more rocks.”
“Yes ma’am,” both boys grumble in unison, which Max finds pretty impressive. 
After that, the five of you get to work. You guys use every item available in the junkyard to secure the bus, hoping that with enough stacked against it, you’ll be safe from Dart once he’s lured. Barrels are rolled, more sheets of metal are placed against the bus, and within the next hour or so you’ve successfully managed to build a decent base. 
All that’s left is to pour the gasoline trail, which you help Steve with as the kids watch from inside the bus. 
“I’m getting major deja-vu right now,” you mumble as Steve pours. 
“Gasoline at Jonathan’s?” 
“Mhm. God, he wouldn’t believe what we’re doing right now.” You know he would’ve loved this bizarre interaction. You, Steve, and the kids all in a junkyard trying to lure a baby Demogorgon. 
You’ve definitely had better babysitting days, and Jonathan would have a field day with this one. 
Once you’re done with the gasoline, you and Steve return to the bus. He waits behind you, making sure you’re securely in the car, before he heaves the old bus door closed. As soon as the door is closed, you and Steve exhale together.
You share a look, both in silent agreement to keep the kids safe no matter what. It’s your guys’ job to keep them safe, to fight for and protect them. 
Deja-vu again. You’re back in Jonathan’s house, holding a switchblade while Steve wields his bat. 
“Ready?” He asks you, extending his hand out for you to grab. 
You interlock your fingers through his. “When am I ever?”
Steve laughs, dispelling away any remaining uncertainty and fear. You know, that no matter what, that he’ll be by your side to help. With this in mind, you join the kids further into the bus. 
Lucas climbs the ladder up to the top, something you’re not fully okay with, but he’s the one with the binoculars and you the switchblade, so it makes the most sense. As the boy climbs, you sit down next to Steve as he flicks his lighter on and off. You’re pressed shoulder to shoulder, his presence grounding you.
Dustin paces, and all you can do is watch him as you try to settle your own nerves. Max has seated herself at the other end of the bus, her arms crossed as usual. 
After a few moments of silence, she finally speaks. “So, you really fought one of these things before?”
Steve nods and you hum in agreement. “Unfortunately.”
“And you’re, like, totally, 100% sure it wasn’t a bear?”
“I mean, to be fair I also had that same thought last year–”
Dustin cuts you off. “Shit, don’t be an idiot, okay? It wasn’t a bear.”
You roughly grab at your brother, yanking him towards you to shut him up. “Dustin–”
“Why are you even here if you don’t believe us?” He sneers at Max, something you’ve never, ever seen your sweet brother do. “Just go home.”
Max clenches her jaw and you send her an apologetic look, but she rolls her eyes at you. “Geesh, someone’s cranky. Past your bedtime?” 
“Max, wait–” She ignores you and climbs up the ladder to join Lucas. You groan once she’s gone, now more than ever wanting to strangle your brother. “Dustin, what the hell was that?”
“That was good, Y/N!” Steve says, a proud smirk on his face. “He showed her he didn’t care, just like I told him to.”
“Oh, so it’s your fault my sweet, innocent baby brother is now some woman hating misogynistic piece of–”
“I don’t hate women, Y/N.” Dustin tiredly says, before directing his next words to Steve. “And I don’t care.”
Steve winks at the boy, but immediately flinches back when you raise your hand to smack him. “Yeah, cower away, you idiotic and moronic–”
“Y/N, stop overreacting and Steve, stop winking at me.”
You raise your eyebrows at Dustin’s tone and he quickly clears his throat and steps away from you. Steve puts some distance between you two as well, scooting away a bit so that he’s out of hitting range. 
It’s quiet again, both boys now scared of your anger, and you anxiously wait for Dart to show up. 
Steve goes back to flicking the lighter, Dustin paces again, and you tap your foot nervously. The silence is killing you, it’s always been your least favorite part of the Upside Down. The waiting, hoping you’re prepared for when all hell inevitably breaks loose. 
You flick your own blades out, admiring the way the blades catch in the moonlight, when you hear a loud growl come from outside. Instinctively you raise your blades to your face while Steve and Dusin scramble to peek through the metal sheets to look out the window. 
“You guys see him?” Dustin asks as he crouches next to you. 
You shake your head. “No,”
There’s nothing outside, only a thick haze of fog that has settled over the junkyard. 
“Lucas, what’s going on?” Your brother calls up to his friend.
“Hold on!” The boy responds. 
Your heart begins to beat faster, your blades never straying away from your face, poised for a fight. Steve sees the way your knuckles whiten over your weapon and he grabs your spare hand, gently coaxing you to calm down. 
Your fingers tighten around Steve’s and you remember his words from last night, promising you that he’ll be there, and you believe him. 
From the bus’ roof, you hear Lucas call down, “I’ve got eyes! Ten o’clock–ten o’clock!”
There, in the haze of fog, you see a hunched figure stalk its way towards the bus. Seeing Dart, you’re filled with complete dread. He’s grown again, much bigger than you’ve ever seen him.
He’s practically the size of the Demogorgon from last year, the same one that almost killed you and Steve. 
“What’s he doing?” Dustin asks, as if anyone else would have any more information than he does. 
“I don’t know,” Steve sighs, his eyes never leaving Dart. 
You squeeze his hand again and hold your breath as you watch the Demodog. He slowly approaches the bait, inspects the area, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in it. You send a silent prayer to whatever god is above that your plan will work. 
It has to work. 
However, Dart starts to back away from the bait and Steve leans even closer to the window. “He’s not taking the bait. Why isn’t he taking the bait?”
“I don’t know,” you want to cry from exhaustion and fear and defeat. 
Dustin looks over at you. “Maybe he’s not hungry?”
Something seems to click, then, for Steve. His eyes light up with an idea, and before he can even get his words out, you grasp at Steve’s arm and try to talk him out of it. “No, absolutely not. You’re not going out there.”
“Maybe he’s sick of cow.” Steve tries to make you let go of him, but you quickly tighten your hold on him and fight back. “Y/N, let me go, I can run fast and–”
“You can’t just use yourself as bait!” You plead, but Steve has always been stronger than you and he drags you behind him as he makes his way towards the bus door. “Steve, listen to me!”
“Steve? Steve!” Dustin finally catches on to what’s happening and he grabs at the teen as well. “What are you doing?”
Steve ignores you both and with a quick jerk of his arm, he frees himself from you. As soon as you’ve let go, he runs towards the door and snatches his bat from the ground. You curse, knowing there’s no way in hell he’s going out there alone, so you follow after him. 
Dustin sees this and panics. “Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re going–”
“Stay put!” You command, scrambling after Steve, who has now begun to open the door. He tosses you the lighter, which you toss to your brother. “Just get ready, Dustin!”
“Y/N!”
“I love you!”
Dustin continues to shout, his pleas laced with more fear than you’ve ever heard from him, but you force yourself to leave. Just as you’ve stepped outside and re-closed the bus door, Dustin pounds against the glass that you’ve locked, tears in his eyes.
You look away, despite how fucking hard it is, and it takes everythin within you to leave. 
Steve saved your life last year. 
Now it’s your turn. 
It’s tense outside as you and Steve walk back to back, weapons out. He twirls his bat a few times, a move that you find yourself smiling at due to its familiarity. With your back against his, you whisper to Steve, “You look for Dart, I keep an eye for anything else?”
He nods, and together the two of you slowly follow the sound of Dart’s chittering. 
“C’mon buddy,” Steve taunts, beginning to whistle. 
“I know we named it a Demodog, but I don’t think whistling will help.”
“We could be about to die, and you’re seriously questioning what I’m doing?”
You shrug, eyes now on the skyline as the fog slowly thickens. “Habit.”
Steve chuckles, which brings some comfort to the fucking awful situation at hand. He whistles some more, continuing to taunt Dart. “C’mon. Dinner time.”
“Again with offering Dart meals while we’re near him,” you shake your head, not at all liking where any of this is going.
“What? At least human tastes better than cat.” Steve responds, now at the pile of raw meat.
You both stop here, Steve facing the bait and you facing the bus, still scanning for literally anything else that could possibly go wrong. Because you’re Y/N Henderson and nothing can ever, ever go right for you. 
Dart lets out another growl, now having spotted Steve, and the teen swings his bat around. You spare a quick glance behind you and see Dart, who has placed all his focus on you and Steve. 
Well, at least the live bait plan is working. 
You turn away again, and as soon as you do, you see the other Demodogs now suddenly appear. Your blood runs cold when you see the two up ahead, one directly in front of you and one on top of the cars. 
For a moment, your words seem to fail you and no sound comes out when you try to speak. All you can do is stare at them, overcome with fear. You’re back in Jonathan’s once more, the fear strangling you as the memories paralyze you. 
From the top of the bus, Lucas yells, “Steve! Y/N! Watch out!”
“We’re a little busy here!” Steve yells back, eyes still on Dart. 
The Demodog in front of you starts to approach, which finally seems to break you from your spell. Shakily, you tell Steve, “There’s more.”
“What?” He tries to turn around, but you shove at him to not lose sight of Dart. You can’t distract him now. Another Demodog has joined.
“Three o’clock! Right in front of Y/N!” Lucas screams, his voice cracking with fear. 
“Y/N?” Steve fully turns around now when he realizes that you’re also in danger, and when he sees the three other Demodogs, he lets out a curse. “Shit.”
Suddenly, you and Steve are surrounded by Demodogs, more than you ever could’ve imagined. More than the two of you can even fight on your own. 
Back at Jonathan’s, it had taken guns, fire, knives, and bats to kill a grown Demogorgon. 
You don’t think your knives and Steve’s bat will be enough for Demodogs. 
“Steve! Y/N! Abort!” Dustin has flung the bus door open, screeching for the two of you to get out of there. 
It’s too late. Dart has opened his mouth and is running towards you two, his friends joining as well. 
“I go left, you go right!” Steve has just enough time to direct you before Dart lunges. 
You dodge, going right as instructed while Steve flings himself on top of a car to avoid the monsters. As Steve hits Dart with his bat, crouched against the car, you narrowly avoid the other Demodog and drop to the ground as it jumps over your head. “Shit!”
Steve swings his bat again and tries to make his way over to you, but you’re off the ground in a heartbeat and run to him instead. Two of the Demodogs are on him now, and there’s only so much damage his bat can do. Breathless, you run over and stab at their backs, doing everything you can to give Steve an opening to run. 
Faintly, you hear the kids in the background cheering you guys on, urging you two to come home.
One of the Demodogs lets out a harsh screech as your blade pierces its skin. It crumbles to the ground, giving Steve just enough of an opening to begin running towards the bus. When he goes to run, you notice one of the Demodogs eying him, and before you can even process what’s happening, you’re throwing yourself in front of him and you feel nails tear at your ribs.
You scream, clutching at your side in agony, feeling blood quickly beginning to spill from your wound. “Fuck!”
“Y/N!” Steve starts to run toward you, pale with fear. 
“No!” You shove him back towards the bus; you can’t let him get hurt because of you. “Go, I’ll be fine!” 
He tries to argue, but you take a deep breath and grip his jacket tightly, practically flinging him inside the bus just before Dart lunges again. Together, the two of you stumble up the steps and barricade the door. 
As soon as it’s closed, Dart begins slamming against it with his entire body. 
Steve uses his legs to hold the door closed while you lay sprawled on the ground, trying to steady your breathing as more blood spills from you. The room is spinning and you’re pretty sure you can taste blood in your mouth. 
Awesome. Cool. 
The kids are screaming and Dart’s body causes the entire bus to rock as his friends now join, throwing their own bodies against the bus as well.
“Are they rabid or something?” Max screams, but everyone ignores her. 
Steve, quick as ever, finds a spare piece of metal and wedges it against the door and uses his legs again to hold it in place. He looks over at you on the ground and feels his heart jump to his throat. You’re pale, a sheen of sweat now dotted across your forehead, and there’s now a concerningly large pool of blood where you lay. “Dustin, go help your sister!”
Dustin looks up and finally notices your injury and almost faints at the sight. In a daze, he runs over to you and kneels down, terrified of how much blood there is. “Oh my god.”
“I’m fine,” you wince, trying to clench your teeth and bear through the pain. “Honestly, this is like a paper cut.”
“Y/N–” The sound of glass shattering cuts Dustin off as a Demodog breaks through the window. Everyone screams, and your brother grabs your arms and drags you further towards the back of the bus to avoid any glass getting on you. 
Wearily, you watch as Steve does whatever he can with his bat, and a part of you wants to laugh. He looks like he’s playing the hardest game of wack-a-mole ever. 
Meanwhile, Lucas and Max have joined you and Dustin. When they see you, Lucas lets out a choked scream while Max covers her eyes. 
“Are you okay?” Lucas kneels over you as well, and you find his sincerity endearing. He’s always been the sweetest in the group, the most comforting. 
“Never been better,” you wheeze out. 
Dustin instructs Lucas to stay with you while he tries to radio for help. “Is anyone there? Mike? Will? God? Anyone!”
“God would be pretty nice to have.” You remark, pain making you even more delirious than usual. 
Max looks at Lucas. “She’s losing it.”
“I think I’m doing great, all things considered.”
Dustin continues to scream into his walkie for help while Lucas tries to stop your bleeding. Max is running around, looking for anything to help, and Steve is still stuck at the front of the bus playing wack-a-mole with Demodogs. 
The situation is so fucking grim, and you’ve never wanted to laugh more. 
Then, to make matters even worse, the ceiling of the bus starts to creak. You see the faint outlines of what suspiciously looks like Demodog footprints on the roof. In slow, agonizing footsteps, Dart makes his way over to the emergency exit on top.
He leers over, and Max, who is at the bottom of the ladder, screams. 
Steve shoves the kids back and you try to get up, but Lucas pushes you down and shakes his head at you. 
“You want some? Come get this!” Steve places himself between Dart and you and the kids, screaming at the thing and waving his bat around, and you’ve never been more attracted to him.
Dart lets out a blood curdling screech, his mouth full of rows of razor sharp teeth that killed your cat just the other day, and you cling onto Lucas’ hand. Another screech, and just before Dart strikes at Steve, it jumps off the bus and runs away. 
Everyone freezes, unsure what to do, as more distant growls and howls can be heard from outside. Steve and the rest stand up, and you notice Lucas holding Max’s hand, and at least something good came out of this hellhole of a day. 
“Any help here?” You finally ask after a minute or so, still lying helplessly on the ground as you bleed.
“Shit!” Steve drops his bat. “Where did it get you, where’s the bleeding? Dustin, did we pack any bandages, or–or an EMT stretcher or–”
“Steve,” you grab his hand, urging him to calm down. “It scratched the fuck out of my ribcage, but I’m not dying. I promise.”
“You’re not?” Dustin asks, tears in his eyes. 
“I’m not. I just…” you shift, wincing at the pain. “I just really need a bandage and I’ll be good as new.”
Steve swallows, a frenzied look in his eyes, and nods. Without thinking, he tears a piece of your bloodied cardigan off and gently lifts your body up so that he can wrap the shred of cloth around you. He weaves it tight, his movements slow and delicate, his eyes never leave yours. 
You can feel his hands shaking as he tends to your wound and ties the cloth with a knot. When he’s done, even though you’re aware of the kids’ eyes on you two, you bring his hands to your lips and kiss them. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” He whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Dustin coughs, which seems to make Steve remember where he is, and he clears his throat. “Right, well. Try not to lose any more blood, yeah?”
“I’ll try,” 
Steve nods and stands back up, knowing Dustin and Lucas will want a moment with you, and makes his way back outside. He knows that they’re all still in danger, even if for some reason the Demdogs seem to have left. 
Once Steve is gone, Dustin and Lucas help you stand, and as soon as you’re up, both boys try their best to give you a hug without hurting you. 
“Don’t do that ever again,” Dustin sniffs, squeezing your uninjured side tightly.
“What he said,” Lucas sniffs as well, though he tries to hide his tears from you. 
You laugh, your own tears evident as you hold the boys tight. “I promise.” 
“You saved Steve,” Max notes, though her tone is neutral, you can see she’s impressed.
“I had to even out a debt.” 
“Guys,” Steve calls from outside. “The coast is clear.”
Slowly, you and the kids make your way out of the bus. It takes some help from both Dustin and Lucas, but eventually you’re able to walk on your own, holding your side, and walk down the steps. 
“You okay?” Steve is by your side as soon as you’ve stepped down, holding you so that he’s not touching your cut. You’re thankful for his support, the pain still making you feel woozy. 
“We’ll talk later,” you motion towards the kids, not wanting to worry them any further. 
He nods, although he hates that you feel like you can’t focus on your own safety. 
“What happened?” Lucas asks the group. 
“I don’t know.” Max looks around, and you think she’s finally starting to understand what she’s gotten herself into. 
Dustin points to you and Steve. “Maybe they scared ‘em off?”
“No,” Steve shakes his head. It couldn’t have been that easy. “No way.”
“They’re going somewhere.” You finish for him, confirming your worst fears. Suddenly, more pain shoots through you and you wince again, squeezing your eyes shut. 
Steve bends his head down, guiding you a bit away from the kids so that they won’t hear. “Hey, we don’t have to follow them. We can go home, you know.”
“We can’t.” You clench your jaw as pain rings throughout your body. The goddamn Demodog got you good. “We have to follow. It’s all connected, Will and his episodes, Nancy and Jonathan with the detective, and I’ll be damned if I back down now.”
“So we follow?” Steve asks, trusting whatever call you make.
You nod, knowing you have to do this. While you guys are safe for now, you know that everyone else has to be in danger; you have to protect them. “Unfortunately.” 
-
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431 notes · View notes
momotonescreaming · 6 months
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Modern au where steddie are dating long distance.
They meet online, chatting about the fanfiction that Eddie writes and Steve reads. They chat about shared interests in tv, and movies, and music. About shitty parents and coming out. And then it sort of evolves from there.
Messaging, turns into phone calls, turns in video calls, turns into racing hearts and sweaty palms when they see a notification from the other. Turns into counting down the seconds until they can open their laptops and call. Turns into hardcore longing, and pining, and whispering I like you through the screen.
They start dating.
Steve will send him messages ending in hearts and kisses. Will send him thirst trap photos he takes at the gym. Takes photos of the dinner he makes and sends it to Eddie with captions saying he's saving him a piece <3. Learns to make Eddie's favourite foods, so he can make them for him when they meet.
Eddie sends him previews of the fic he's writing. Photos of him performing with his band, sweaty and smiling. Serenades him over video call, acoustic guitar perched in his lap. Watches the basketball with Steve, each from their respective living rooms.
He wonders what it would be like if they were together. If Steve could cook him the dinner he learnt just for him, if Eddie could curl into his side as they watch the game together, Steve whispering the rules of basketball into his ear.
He wonders what it would be like to kiss Steve. To feel those plump lips on his. To taste him. His sweat, his flavoured chapstick. Would he put his hands on his waist? His jaw? Cradle his face? Would he make it slow and sweet? Or rushed and desperate? Would Steve whisper I love you into the warmth of Eddie's mouth?
But they live on opposite sides of the country.
He loves what they have. He loves having Steve. But Eddie wants what other people have. Would like to go on a date that isn't through a laptop. Would like to be able to kiss and hug and even just touch his boyfriend.
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donttellunclesam · 2 hours
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"Steve throws one of those raised-eyebrow looks over his shoulder. 'You coming?' he calls, badly hiding a laugh as he watches Eddie waddle along behind him in his big dumb yellow jacket."
haz read my mind and wyn asked nicely, so here it is! based on the lovely, sexy, hilarious collab fic baby it's cold outside (but it's real warm in your mouth) by @wynnyfryd and @griefabyss69
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stevesbipanic · 1 year
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Steve had always loved daisies.
A small patch of daisies had always grown just beyond the fenceline of his backyard. Protected and untouched from the clean-cut yard the Harringtons had. Steve loved to stick them in his hair, loved that when his hair was a bit longer he could fit whole bunches of them in.
The girls at school showed him how to weave them into flower crowns. He'd sit in a circle with them giggling as they wove the flowers together before dancing around the flowers in the field. One day Steve had come home with a crown still in his hair. His father made sure he learnt that daisies were for girls, he didn't go to the girls circle after that. Now Steve's crown was made of thorns and hollow popularity.
Eddie had always loved sunflowers.
His mum would keep a big vase of them on the windowsill. Big and yellow and bright, a beacon of love through the gloom of Eddie's childhood home. His mother would take him to the sunflower field every weekend to pick new ones. She showed him how to roast the seeds to eat and helped him find sunflowers bigger than him.
When she died, Eddie visited the sunflower field as often as he could, picking flowers to bring to her grave. The day Wayne took him in was the last day he left her some. There were no sunflower fields in Hawkins.
Those young boys were older now.
Together they sat in a field down the hill from where Dustin was calling Suzie. Eddie's head laid in Steve's lap, softly dozing as his boyfriend ran his finger through his curls. After awhile he realised Steve had stopped and so he looked up at him, blinking at the sunlight. Steve's face was punched in concentration as he finished weaving together the pile of daises he'd picked from around them.
"What've you got there, Stevie?"
"I made you a flower crown," Steve said smiling softly as he placed the crown on Eddie's head.
"I'm King of the Flowers, don't think I'll be beating those gay allegations anytime soon, sweetheart."
Steve giggled and smiled down at Eddie as he began to play with his hair again. Turns out Eddie was wrong, there was one sunflower in Hawkins, and he was the prettiest one of all.
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buckys-little-belle · 2 years
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Cafe BigNSmall - Steve Rogers (Chapter Two)
Smartie Pants
Steve x Little!Reader (He/Him Pronouns)
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Warnings - None really, Steve is very self conscious about his ability to be a caregiver … something hinted at in Bucky and Bub’s Cafe BigNSmall recent chapter, and once again hinted at here, more to come on that topic in the future!
Notes - I kind of wrote Bug very nurodivergent, because I am, and Bug’s love for different topics like bugs and plants, is something I can relate to. Idk, I just wanted some rep for my non normal brained peeps who are like me and so I kind of tied that in. I have ADHD and possibly autism (I am getting tested, hopefully soon, we just have to make my psychiatrist actually care about me first) so I’m sure that might help you understand Bug a bit more, I don’t know. Anyways, I hope you enjoy.
SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and with this blog, SFW.
- - - - - -
Bug had shown up to the cafe at quarter to four, that way he could make sure Steve would sit in Bug’s favourite booth. He had tried other booths, but people often wanted window seats, the people being pairs of caregivers and littles, something Bug had always been jealous of, hiding in the back corner to avoid his jealousy.
When he got inside he noticed his table was taken, a head with a hat sat with their back to the door. Bug frowned, confused as to who would sit in that booth when others were open, and a bit disappointed when he realized he could no longer there. Bug approached the counter, waiting for someone to take his order, one orange juice, like always. “One moment.” A lady called out, currently making another order along the counter.
The person’s head turned, revealing Steve sat in the booth, his body movement showing a coffee and juice placed on the table. “Bug?” Steve called out, Y/n turned his head, not at the nickname but at the sheer volume of the voice. He smiled, quickly walking towards the table, a sense of relief washing over him. “Hi.” Steve said, gesturing for Bug to sit on the booth seat in front of him.
“‘m you’re early.” Y/n remarked, placing his bag on the seat first, scooting in after it. “I thought you said you would be done at four?” He asked.
“I did, but I got off early and couldn’t wait.” Steve smiled, pushing the juice closer to Bug as Steve took a sip of his coffee. “Did you bring your book?” Steve asked.
“Yah.” Bug said, pulling a book out of his backpack, the cover titled ‘Rose Facts.’ “‘s all about roses.” He smiled, setting the book on the table and reaching for the juice, taking a quick sip.
Steve smiled back, his heart beating fast, his mind occupied with trying not to mess this up. “Do you like roses?” He asked, internally rolling his eyes at the silly question.
“Yah, I love yellow roses the most though.” Bug said, opening the book to a page that was marked with a sticky note, the left page covered in pictures of yellow roses, and the right side covered in writing, some highlighted.
“Why yellow?” Steve asked, scanning the highlighted words to try and understand the flower more, and to see what bug liked so much about them.
“They mean joy.” Y/n said matter of factly, pointing to a highlighted sentence. “They come from the Middle East and Asia! They grow as wild flowers there.” He rambled, continually sipping his juice.
“Wow.” Steve whispered, unsure of how to respond.
“Europeans found them in the 18th century. Now we grow them over here too.” Bug continued, still pointing to different pictures and words, like he had memorized the page, because he had.
Steve was just in awe, somehow he found this smart boy who loved orange juice and enjoyed spending time with him, and Steve didn’t know what to do with that information. He felt like he didn’t deserve this mundane type of life, sitting in a cafe with someone, drinking coffee and learning about yellow roses. He was a captain, an army man, the face of America, he felt like he belonged here so well yet also shouldn’t be here.
Bug interrupted his thoughts. “What’s your favourite flower Stevie?” He asked, looking at Steve with waiting eyes.
“Oh. I, I don’t think I have one.” He breathed, slowly realizing he never really had time to pick favourite flowers, colours, foods, he just had what he was given. “Yah, I don’t have one.” He said.
“That’s okay.” Bug happily said, pulling out a small yellow notebook and pen from his bag. When he opened it Steve saw how full it was, random note jotted down on each page front and back, just a couple spots left on the last two pages. “I can bring my flower book next time and you can pick one!” He exclaimed, quickly writing down ‘Flower book for Stevie.’ in the notebook, his happy face quickly fading away as he looked up. “Only if you want to come back!” He hurriedly said, his voice uneasy.
“I would love that Bug.” Steve said. “I would also like to see you again.” He chuckled, smiling and hoping that his words convinced Y/n that he meant it when he said he wanted to come back.
Bug smiled and quickly began rambling again, something Steve began to cherish, the random facts and enthusiasm that Y/n brought made him happy and feel like he really liked Steve’s company. “I think you’ll like Sunflowers.” Bug smiled.
“Why’s that?” Steve questioned.
“Because you are pretty much like a sunflower.” Bug explained. “You’re tall, you have always been popular, you know Sunflowers are always popular?” He asked in the middle of listing off facts, Steve shaking his head at the question. “You are also super popular, from the war and now.”
“You know who I am?” Steve asked, Bug hadn’t made any comment to make Steve think he knew he was Captain America till now.
“Your pin.” Bug said, taking the last sip of his juice, pointing to Steve’s jacket, a small metal pin of his shield on display. Steve just looked confused still, trying to figure out how Bug had solidified his identity from a small pin. “I jus’ looked up the pin, and you showed up.” He explained, shrugging his shoulders.
“Oh.” Steve sighed, honestly not really sure how to approach the conversation from here.
“I like the Falcon better.” Bug blurted out, his head in his book. “He can fly.”
Steve laughed, of course Bug liked the super hero that could fly, like a bug. “I’m a little hurt.” Steve joked.
“It’s not my fault you’re kind of boring.” Bug said, looking Steve in the eyes. “I like the shield though, is it heavy?” He asked.
“Not really.” Steve answered. “It looks heavy, but it’s super light, very aerodynamic.”
Bug looked at Steve confused, and then opened his note book again, writing something down and then looking back. “I don’t know what you mean but I’ll look it up.” Bug smiled. “Oh, Sunflowers!” Bug quietly ‘yelled’, his face lighting up, remembering his original thought. “They are native to the america’s, and you are Captain America, so it works.” He smiled, Steve smiling back.
“You are so smart.” Steve laughed, looking at Bug with complete adoration, genuinely impressed by how much knowledge he had stored in his head.
“Thanks.” Bug responded, his cheeks heating up, an embarrassed smile gracing his face. Putting his note book away and turning the badge of his rose book, diving back into the pictures and facts.
Steve on the other hand sat in his seat, scanning the book this time for an author name, trying to figure out how many other book they had written, maybe he could buy Bug some. Though he knew Bug needed a new notebook first, maybe some fun pens, a pencil case, of course maybe a bee eraser, he started to figure out where he could buy yellow pencils, not the regular ones, ones that would match the pencil case. But as his head was filling with thoughts about things to buy Bug, things that could help Bug, he realized he isn’t Bug’s care taker, he couldn’t just buy him things like that out of the blue.
Steve sighed, he watched as Bug scanned the pages, taking in all the information he could. Steve knew him and Bug would get along, he just had to stick to proving to Bug he wanted to be there, orange juice was a good start, maybe he would do what Bucky did and throw in some cake pops, get to know Bug, and let Bug get to know him.
Steve wasn’t ready to mess up another little’s life because he was busy, this time Steve would take his time, he would make sure he was available, he would make sure he could be the caregiver he wanted to be, not the caregiver he thought he was. Stepping down as Captain America had begun months ago, and the official ceremony couldn’t come quick enough.
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lovebugism · 3 months
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do something with king steve who secretly likes female/shy/reader
hope u like it xoxo — the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret (shy!fem!r, secret relationship, fluff, 1.2k)
bug's one year celebration ♡
“Boo!”
You jump when a figure appears suddenly behind the door of your opened locker. They’re wearing bell bottoms and a sparkly clip in their strawberry curls. Carol Perkins giggles when her attempts to scare you work. Tommy Hagan follows just behind her, laughing louder until his freckled face scrunches together.
The only reassuring thing about seeing both of them together is knowing Steve isn’t too far behind. He’s got his tongue in his cheek, and his arms crossed over his chest, visibly unamused.  “What are you guys— three?” he scoffs, pushing the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.
“Yeah, three inches deep in your mom,” Tommy retorts with a boyish chuckle.
Carol squints her made-up eyes at him. She deadpans, “That’s not the comeback you think it is, Hagan.”
You turn to Steve with a panicked glimmer in your eye. You’re so used to being the butt of all their jokes that being in their proximity now fills you with something close to ice-cold dread. You peer at the boy beside you with pinched-together brows, knowing he’s the only one who cares about you past cheating off your homework.
“What’s going on?” you wonder quietly, for only him to hear.
Steve grins, brows raised and eyes twinkling. “My house is gonna be empty tonight. ‘Cause, you know, my dad’s got a work conference or whatever, so… No parents. Big house—”
“A total recipe for disaster,” Tommy interjects with a laugh.
“You’re throwing a party?” you ask, voice trembling. There’s little more that scares you than crowds — well, crowds and loud music and drunk people. Parties were never your scene. Steve knows that better than anyone.
He corrects you quickly, stammering over himself because he never wants you to feel uncomfortable. “No! No, not a party. It’s gonna be lowkey. Just a— a get-together, you know? Just the four of us.”
“Ooh,” Carol croons from behind you. “So no priss?”
“Shut up, Carol,” Steve snaps.
“I’m just used to you following her around like a lost puppy, that’s all.” Carol and Tommy laugh about it together. ‘Cause that’s all they’re really good at — making stupid jokes and cackling like supervillains.
Steve rolls his eyes with an annoyed huff and turns his attention back to you. You take it from him wholly, every ounce of his focus. 
There was something ethereal in your vagueness — in how softly you spoke and how pretty you looked when you weren’t even trying. You’re quiet and mysterious and hidden. Steve desperately wants to be the one that deciphers you.
“Are you in?” he asks in a low, honeyed tone.
Your gaze falls to the tile. “I don’t know…” you murmur.
“C’mon,” he croons and steps closer to you. His sneakers enter your vision until you look up at him again, peering at him from beneath your lashes. His grin is pink and pretty and lopsided. “Don’t leave me with these assholes all night.”
“Dick,” you hear Tommy scoff from behind you. He sounds much further away than that ‘cause all you can see now is Steve. And his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his stupid pretty smile.
You cave instantly. 
You never really stood a chance, anyway. Not with the way he was looking at you.
“I’ll think about it,” you mumble and turn back to your locker. You switch your English textbook for a History one and cradle it in your arms. Steve grins, knowing he’s forgotten his on purpose just so he could sit next to you all period.
“Good,” the boy hums.
“We’re finally wearing Wallflower down,” Carol muses, giggling to herself.
Tommy knocks you too hard on the shoulder. “You’ll be one of us in no time,” he grins.
You grimace as they walk off down the hall. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted. The thought of there being an ounce of similarities between you and them makes your stomach ache.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Steve tells you, smiling quietly when you nod. 
He reaches into the pocket of his jeans and passes you a folded-up piece of paper. He doesn’t look back at you when he follows his friends down the corridor. You don’t open it until he’s gone.
West wing chem lab, he’s written in chicken scratch. Come find me. 
—————
The hallway at the west end of the school is dim and empty. The floors are untouched, and the lockers are sparingly opened. The air is thick and noticeably stale. You open the door to the old chemistry room with a high-pitched squeak that sounds like something out of a horror movie.
Steve waits for you in the dark classroom, lit only by the natural sunlight streaming in through translucent curtains. He sits at a table in front of the window and toys with the burner at the end of it. He turns the thin blue flame on and off and on again, silently wishing he’d plucked a cigarette from Tommy before he left.
His honey eyes flit to yours when you walk into the room. He grins at the soft smirk on your bitten lips. “What’s that look for, huh?” he teases, turning off the burner and sliding off the desk.
You shrug. “Nothin’…”
“I missed you.”
You scoff when he wraps his arms around you. His wide palms smooth over your back. “You just saw me.”
“It doesn’t count when I’m with Tommy and Carol. I need you all to myself…”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs lowly, ducking down to kiss you. His plush lips lock with yours, tasting of nicotine and chewing gum — a near-lethal concoction. He smiles against your mouth when you melt further into him. He parts from you with a gentle smack.
“They’re starting to like me, I think,” you mumble, smoothing your hands over his chest. “Tommy and Carol.”
“I think so, too.”
“It’s awful.”
“Absolutely disgusting,” he concurs, grinning wide when you giggle.
“But, you know, maybe we wouldn’t have to hide anymore,” you stammer, gaze falling when it becomes too hard to hold his. “If they don’t think I’m, like, the lamest person on the planet.”
Steve’s brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, that’s why you don’t want them to know about us, right? ‘Cause you’re King Steve, and I’m… fish bait,” you conclude with a forced laugh.
“No,” he answers instantly. “What? No. That’s not— That’s not why.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t want them to know about us because they’re assholes,” Steve confesses. “I mean, they were awful to Nancy when we were together. ‘Cause they’re miserable, and they hate when other people are actually nice. I just don’t want them to… ruin anything, that’s all…”
You muss with a rogue thread at the neckline of his sweater and smile quietly to yourself. “I thought you were scared because you accidentally fell in love with the Wallflower instead of the Prom Queen.”
Steve scoffs. “I didn’t accidentally fall in love with you, first of all.”
“No?” you murmur, brow quirking in disbelief. 
“No, it was very intentional.”
“I don’t believe that,” you argue with a lighthearted chuckle. You think it’s easier than saying, I don’t believe you because there’s no way you love someone like me because you want to.
Steve’s palms squeeze your sides reassuringly, like he can hear all the mean thoughts swirling in your head. “Well, you didn’t make it any easier on me,” he tells you, a crooked smile tugging at his pink lips. “You started talkin’ all smart in Ms. Click’s class, and I started melting.”
“That’s when you knew you liked me?” you scoff. “After I gave a presentation about geopolitical tensions in China?”
He exhales sharply through his nose, licking his lips with heavy eyelids. “See what I mean? That’s hot.”
“God, you’re such a boy.”
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morganbritton132 · 7 months
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Next week Nancy posts a tik tok of Eddie in one of these tents at the soccer game. He couldn’t handle all the bugs so he bought one of these and a fancy fan to keep him cool. She pans to Eddie who is just flipping off the camera
It builds up to the tent.
It first starts with Eddie posting a TikTok complaining about the mosquitos like, I thought we were killing this planet. Why are these fuckers out in droves?? Followed by another TikTok of Eddie shaming Steve after a game for not being sympathetic enough about the literal vampire attack he survived.
Steve, literally applying calamine lotion to his bites, “You’re fine.”
“They stole my blood!” Eddie exclaims. “Look how pale I am!”
“You’re always this pale.”
“I’ve been bitten less by bats.”
And you know what? Eddie was just going to suck it up. He was going to just sit there and endure in order to support his husband and his wildest jock endeavors, and not just because Nancy’s been roasting the shit out of him every Saturday for the last three weeks, but then. Then he got bit on the ass.
He has a mosquito bite on his ass. How???
So, he furiously drives to a sporting goods store and buys himself a little tent. He throws in a portable fan and even buys a new cooler, and it’s great. It’s 10/10, definitely improved the whole situation now that he’s not being eaten alive again. Nancy can laugh all she wants with her frizzy hair, he doesn’t care.
“POV,” Nancy says in a mockup of Eddie’s TikTok voice. He looks up from his phone and gives her the most unimpressed look. “When people think you’re a Satan-worshipping cult leader but in reality, you’re just a little bitch that can’t handle the outdoors.”
She looks away from the camera and smiles at him. Eddie doesn’t say anything, just flips her off.
Later, Nancy posts another TikTok of Robin talking about her game-winning goal. Meanwhile, in the background, Steve gives Eddie a kiss through the netting of his tent.
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itiswormtimebaby · 9 months
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Here’s what I’m thinking about: All the ass Bucky kicked on your behalf growing up. Biker!Bucky x Bug (+brothers best friend Buck, plus sized reader)  Platonic Steve x Reader (He’s her adopted brother)
TW: Bullying, fat shaming, name calling, mentions of blood, violence While dealing primarily with their platonic relationship this is meant to offer some insight into Steve, Bucky, and Bug’s shared past. 
It’s not like he had to go out of his way, he would have, but most of the time he didn’t need to. No, Steve-shit-stirrer-Rogers had that part handled, because if it was your problem it was Steve’s problem, and if it was Steve’s problem it was Bucky’s problem, and Bucky had a lot of problems. Steve couldn’t help being a rather sickly teenager, but Jesus what he lacked in muscle he made up for in mouth, all piss and vinegar as Bucky’s Ma used to say; and as soon as the bullying started that mouth was constantly moving. To his credit Steve never asked for help, never asked for backup, he took his brotherly duty seriously and if that meant getting his ass handed to him five times a day so be it, he’d at least get one good punch in on the way down (occasionally…maybe…sometimes). 
In truth Bucky would have defended you regardless of your relationship to Steve, it’s just how he was raised, but you being his best friend's sweet (if not at times annoying) kid sister served to make it all the more personal. So when Steve stormed off to confront some assholes that had been moo-ing at you in the hallway he may have made sure their heads bounced off their lockers on the way to the floor (a few more times than necessary).  When he found out paint had been “accidentally” spilled all over your art project the asshole with the bucket couldn’t breathe without wincing for a week (neither could Steve who hadn’t bothered waiting on Bucky to start the fight). And when your first “real” boyfriend broke up with you because he liked your personality but not your body (“Maybe we could try again if you lost some weight?”) Bucky didn’t stop until his knuckles were bloody and the fucker was crying as hard as you’d been when you tearfully confsessed to Steve what had you so upset. Granted by that time Steve had built enough muscle mass and spent enough hours in the boxing gym to handle it himself but Bucky insisted Steve stay with you while he handled it. 
He’d spent the night in jail for that stunt, but it was worth it, no one made his Bug cry. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to that, that effortless inclusion of his, he would’ve seen the writing on the wall. Maybe it wouldn’t have taken so damn long for him to realize he loved you (and to say it). 
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doodlebug-aboo · 2 years
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Steve doesn’t like to admit it, but he likes to snoop. He’s a nosy guy. Anytime he’s in someone’s house for the first time, he snoops through their bathroom when he’s in there. He lies to himself and says it’s to be prepared for anything. Figure out where they keep the painkillers, the first aid kit, the extra toilet paper, the towels, but really he’s just curious. He always has been. He never snoops around when the person is there, but he can never decide if that’s better or worse.
The first time Steve is allowed into Eddie’s room, when he isn’t fighting for his life against creatures from the Upside Down that is, Eddie’s words catch him off guard.
“Get your snooping done now, man. There’s a lot of shit to sift through.”
He doesn’t ask how Eddie knows he likes to snoop, but he takes the opportunity after getting express permission while Eddie leaves to grab them some drinks from the kitchen. There is a lot of stuff, like Eddie said, but not in a way that’s messy. Steve wouldn’t call his room messy, just maybe a little crowded. In the best way possible, though. It looks lived in. Like a lot of love went into creating this space just the way Eddie likes it. It’s comforting.
The one place Steve pays the closest attention to is the small desk, littered with crumpled papers, notebooks, maps of fantasy worlds Steve has never heard of, pens and pencils, dice, you name it. Looking through the papers, Steve sees most of them are notes about a new campaign he knows Eddie has been working on for the kids. Steve knows Eddie’s been pouring over it endlessly because Will is visiting for the whole summer and the kids begged Eddie to write a campaign and play with them, and Eddie wants to make it the best possible game for the kid.
When Eddie comes back into the room, Steve stops his snooping and sits on the edge of the bed.
Steve takes a look at Eddie’s desk every time he’s in his room, now. He likes to see what Eddie is working on, likes to be able to ask him about it and watch his face light up as he starts to talk about something he’s passionate about.
One day, Steve walks into Eddie’s room and sees the amount of crumpled notebook paper seems to have multiplied drastically. He normally wouldn’t un-crumple any of the thrown away ideas and stick to the ones currently being worked on, but the magnitude of papers littering the floor nags at his curiosity too much to leave them be. So he picks up a few of the balls of paper and smooths them out best he could to read what they say.
Most of the papers are filled with a litany of crossed-out words and phrases, sometimes whole paragraphs of text. After looking at each paper, Steve realizes they’re song lyrics. He knew Eddie wrote music for his band, but he still hadn’t heard any of their music. Not for lack of wanting to, simply because Eddie told him he’ll invite Steve to one of their shows when he’s comfortable. It hurt Steve a bit to know Eddie still wasn’t comfortable enough to show him his original music, but he also knows that music is much more sacred to Eddie than it’s ever been to himself.
The lyrics really stand out to Steve, though, and he tries to wrap his head around them. It looks like Eddie is struggling with one song in particular he wants to write, because the lyrics are similar but different on every page. It’s a song about someone, it looks like, and it almost sounds like a love song, but not the kind of pop-style love song Steve is accustomed to, of course.
Steve knows not every love song has to be about one person in particular, but he feels like he knows who Eddie is writing about. It’s on the tip of his tongue. He knows Eddie is writing about one specific person. Too many times are the lyrics hyper-specific, but those are always the ones that are crossed out. Many mentions of brown eyes, the way they style their hair, their lips. Comments about hands, necks. There’s even a long paragraph entirely crossed out detailing moments they’ve shared, and it sounds eerily familiar.
It’s a lyric on the last paper Steve grabbed from the floor that makes the realization hit him like a truck.
Matching scars across our skin
Can’t believe you let me in
There’s something crossed out so intensely Steve can’t read it, but he can read the lines right below it.
If you’re the king, I’ll let you reign
But loving you’s a losing game
Steve knows, immediately, who the song is about, and before he even has time to react to this new knowledge, Eddie is walking through the door to his room again.
As soon as his eyes land on Steve, he freezes. “You weren’t supposed to see those, Harrington.”
But Steve is looking at him with awe in his eyes. “Are you writing a song about me, Munson?” He means for it to come out more teasing, but his voice is soft. Almost shy.
Eddie pulls a chunk of his hair forward to cover his face, looking down and anywhere other than Steve. “Don’t be ridiculous. Me? Writing a song about King Steve?”
Steve smirks a little and walks closer to Eddie. Not too close, he doesn’t want to scare him away. There’s also a small seed of worry sitting in the back of his brain waiting to sprout that maybe, just maybe, he’s wrong about this. But he really hopes he’s right. “You know, you only bring out the King Steve shit when you’re too afraid to say what you’re really thinking.”
Eddie’s eyes widen and he looks at Steve in shock. “You… noticed something that specific?”
Steve just shrugs, closing the distance between them a little more, only about a foot and a half separating them now. “I notice a lot of things about you, Munson.”
Steve sees Eddie’s shoulders relax slightly from where they raised up closer to his ears. “If you’re just saying all this to pull a prank on me or something, that’s really fucked up, Steve.”
Steve quickly shakes his head. “I’m not. I promise I’m not, Eds. I would never.”
Eddie seems to be thinking really hard for a long moment, once again looking away from Steve. He fidgets with his rings a bit, spinning one slowly on one of his fingers. Steve’s eyes track the movement. Finally, Eddie looks at him again. “Fuck it.”
Eddie closes the distance between them, grabs Steve’s cheeks in both of his hands, and slams their lips together. It’s not a graceful kiss by any means, and not exactly what Steve had imagined their first kiss would be like. If he had imagined it before, which he definitely didn’t do, especially not every day. But regardless, it’s still one of the best kisses Steve’s ever had, and he’s had a lot. Everything about it is just so Eddie, he can’t even describe it. The gentle, almost shy hesitation he can feel mixed with the desperation of a man on his death bed. Steve wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist before they pull back, smiling at each other.
Eddie’s grin is almost blinding as his eyes scan over Steve’s face. “I’m almost finished with the final version of the song… you should come see us when we’re ready to play it.”
Steve’s eyes light up. “You mean I get to finally go see Corroded Coffin perform live?”
Eddie laughs. “Yes, that’s what I mean. I’ll let you know when we’ll play it for the first time. I’m not the singer, so you’ll have to hear Gareth singing about you, but at least you’ll know the lyrics are mine.”
Steve smiles, pressing a much softer and gentler kiss to his lips. “You’re more of a sap than I thought you’d be.”
“Oh, shut it, big boy.”
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