#it lowkey probably won't be completely in done in time for the au day but i am going to try!

[perexcri]

stonathan sunday

hi hello this isn’t really a ficlet, but one of the prompts this week fit well with the next scene i needed to write for my stonathan week fic, so here’s an excerpt from that!! it’s gonna be a btvs au where Hawkins sits on a hellmouth, so there’s always some kind of supernatural nonsense going on :)

apologies as it is not very edited and idk i don’t usually write for stonathan so this is new territory for me lol. anyway thanks again @stonathanweek​ for posting some helpful prompts~

prompt: "Why do you care?"

“I do have one question. Please, just–I need to know,” Steve says, his voice sounding ragged at the edges, pleading for assistance. “I’ll leave you alone after this, I swear.”

Jonathan chews at the side of his cheek, refusing to make eye contact. He only allows himself a single, curt nod to tell Steve to continue.

Clearing his throat, Steve’s eyes dart down to the camera, then right back up to Jonathan’s gaze. Jonathan focuses on a smudge of the gym door window, but he feels those dark eyes boring into him.

“Do you feel any different today? Like, at all?”

Oh, holy shit–not this again.

Jonathan sighs, eyes mid-roll, when Steve adds, “I’m serious, I really need to know–”

“Why do you care?” Jonathan huffs. “Is this just because I broke up with you last night?”

Steve’s mouth opens and closes several times; it makes him look like a beached whale gasping for air. “I mean–it’s tangentially related to that, but it’s not like–”

“Okay, then how about this.” Jonathan gently lowers his hands from the camera, careful to make sure it remains secured to the strap, then throws his arms out. “I feel goddamn wonderful today. Amazing, even. And the only reason today has sucked is because you won’t stop bothering me, and now you’ve got the whole fucking school moping over you because you can’t stand to not be the center of attention for more than two seconds!”

Steve’s cheeks fill with color, looking almost sunburnt. His eyebrows knit together, and he looks pained as he asks, “Is that true?”

Not entirely, an unhelpful voice offers in Jonathan’s head, but he’s been a good liar for a long, long time. His nod is swift, his gaze damning, and his jaw set with tension.

Steve takes him in for a few seconds, scanning his face as if he could find a different answer hidden somewhere in his features, like the truth could be scoured away by the force of his gaze. He blinks a couple of times, shakes his head, then shoves a frustrated hand into his hair. “Okay, fine. Whatever. I need to talk to Chrissy.”

Nerves begin to tighten in Jonathan’s chest, and he opens his mouth to say, “But I need to take her picture–”

But the door’s already closed in his face, and Steve’s already crossing the floor to where the cheerleaders are practicing their chants. Not even the squeak of his shiny new sneakers can hide the choruses of Hi, Steve! coming from the cheer squad.

Some venomous concoction of jealousy and vexation swells in Jonathan’s gut. He glares daggers through the gym door window one last time before he turns on his heels and shuffles down the hall, deciding the cheer squad pictures can wait until the game tonight.

He doesn’t want to be anywhere near Steve-fucking-Harringotn right now; it’s a good reminder that there’s a reason he broke things off between them, that he was right in his decision.

It does frustrate him to know that he’s not the only one who can close doors between him and Steve, though.