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kennahjune · 3 months

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Jealous?

Thanks so much to the amazing @rogueddie for letting me write this!!!! Hope it lives to standards :)

Eddie had a problem.

A Steve Harrington sized problem.

Said problem was standing behind the counter at Family Video while the woman in front of him blatantly flirted with him.

It wasn’t the woman Eddie was worried about— she had at least five years of age on Steve, so maybe there was cause for concern— but Steve wasn’t paying her the time of day.

Instead, he was glancing over the woman’s shoulder at Eddie, who lurked in the aisles, and kept making faces and blabbling his mouth mockingly whenever she wasn’t paying attention.

Eddie was desperately holding back snickers and snorts. He couldn’t help but let a giggle escape when Steve moved his hand in a “blabbing” motion when she said something about her ex-husband (HUSBAND) again. The woman whipped around and glared at Eddie. Eddie gave her a finger waggle wave he realized belatedly was the same one Steve does.

Steve himself was almost beet red in the face with his effort to hold in his laugh. Eddie was amazed at how long he’d lasted.

The moment the door closed behind her Steve put his face in his arms on the counter and full on cackled. Eddie was quick to join.

They were still laughing when Robin came back from the bathroom.

“Is she gone?” she asked, looking oddly between the two of them.

Steve nodded, not having enough breath to get words out. Robin sighed a dramatic breath of relief.

“Oh thank God. Cause she looked one second away from bringing up some stupid shit like her failed marriage—“

That sent Steve and Eddie into another spiral of laughs.

“There’s no way she actually did.” Robin deadpanned.

Eddie nodded vigorously. “She fucking did!”

“Four times! As if bringing up how she was newly-single would make me want her. Did she look in a mirror before leaving? She’s closer to my dads age.”

Eddie snorted, trying to get his laughter under control enough to say “Even man-whore Richard Harrington wouldn’t go within a 20 foot radius of her.”

Steve didn’t waste a second before racking on: “Doesn’t need to get too close with how far back that hairline stretches.”

Robin and Eddie laughed themselves to tears.

And that was how it went.

A woman would come into the video store, shoot their shot with Steve, and Steve would laugh about it with Robin and Eddie later.

And it was fun. Eddie found it fun. Cause he knew Steve would always shoot the girls down, however nice or rudely he has to be about it.

Until—

Until.

It was a Friday, and as per usual on Fridays, Eddie was at Steve’s. Of course, it wasn’t just him— Robin, Nancy, Jonathan and Argyle were there as well.

They’d been hanging out whenever they all could before Nancy and Jonathan went to college and Argyle back to Cali. Hence the Friday night hang outs.

Tonight was no different, except for one thing.

“So explain to me once again why we have to drive all the way out to Indy for this?” Jonathan complained.

Nancy sighed and leant into him. “Cause there aren’t any good bars in Hawkins. And everywhere in Hawkins knows that almost none of us are of legal age.”

Jonathan grumbled but conceded, Wheeler had a point.

“Besides,” added Robin. “It’d be nice to finally get the hell out and see some new people.”

“Amen.” Agreed Eddie and Argyle at the same time. They both chuckled.

“Yeah well, I’d like to go soon before my social battery drains itself dead.” Remarked Jonathan, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“We’d have left already if SOMEBODY DIDN’T HAVE TO SPEND HALF AN HOUR PRIMPING HIMSELF!” Yelled Robin towards the stairs.

Steve had been MIA since Eddie got there at least 20 minutes ago. According to Robin he was still getting ready.

“PUT A LID ON IT BIRD-FOR-BRAINS, IM COMING!” Was the reply she got from the top of the stairs, where Steve was now coming from.

Nancy and Argyle snorted at the insult, but Eddie’s mind was rather taken up by the cut-off jean shorts Steve wore that showed more of his thighs than Eddie thought necessary for anyone’s functioning brain. He was also wearing what looked like the softest sweater he owned; a dark purple one that seriously brought out the green in his eyes.

Nancy whistled, Robin clapped. Argyle grinned at Steve and said

“Hey man! That’s the sweater I got you!”

Steve grinned right back and nodded. “Uh huh! Dude it’s like— SO fucking comfy you don’t even understand.”

The sweater was a little big on Steve, hanging over his thumbs a bit in the sleeves and landing just below the waistline of his shorts. If Eddie wasn’t so focused on the many moles on his thighs that were on display, the fact that Argyle had gotten Steve a sweater may have rubbed him the wrong way.

As it stood, Steve looked good.

He looked stunning, actually, in his glasses and his hair slightly ruffled in a delicate manner and his eyes wide and bright and—

“Eddie!”

He blinked and Steve was standing in front of him, no one else in the room.

“Huh?”

Steve grinned giddily and laughed at him. “C’mon dude, you’re my ride up, remember?”

Oh yeah. They’d split everyone between his and Argyles vans.

“Isn’t Buckley with us?” Eddie asked as he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

“Yeah, but I think she’s sticking with Jon and them on the way up.”

Eddie nodded and averted his gaze once more. There was a reason he’d skipped gym and avoided the mall.

That reason was glaring at him with all of its dotted moles and freckles and faint scars.

Jesus Christ he needed a cigarette.

The ride up was uneventful, peaceful even. Eddie let Steve have control over the radio, something Steve thought was normal but was downright foreign to anyone else. Eddie usually fought tooth and nail for control over the music but the sight of Steve singing and drumming his legs (holy shit his thighs jiggled—) and jamming out with a bright smile to whatever Tears for Fears or ABBA song he put on was worth it.

He followed behind Argyle and reluctantly sang under his breath with Steve to Head Over Heels.

The club they ended up going to was a little deeper into the city than they’d initially thought, and was slightly crowded when they got in.

Eddie was immediately hit with the smell of sweat and booze but not in an entirely bad way. In a way that told him that people here had fun.

It was bright and loud and the air tasted like fries (though Eddie might just be hungry). They took an empty table booth in a corner in the back.

After dropping their jackets off and everyone picking a seat, Steve got up to get everyone drinks.

“You want me to come with?” Eddie asked worriedly. It was Steve’s first time in Indy in a while and his first time out of Hawkins since the fall of Vecna. Sue Eddie for being cautious.

But Steve smiled sweetly at him and shook his head. “I’ll be alright, Eds. Be right back.” He knocked his knuckles on Eddie’s head affectionately and walked off. Eddie may have spent a second ogling before snapping his gaze to the table.

“So?”

Eddie looked at Nancy with a raised eyebrow. She raised one right back.

“Soooo…?”

She sighed. “Oh you’re hopeless.”

Jonathan snickered.

“Wha—“

“Are you gonna make a move tonight?” Argyle elaborated.

Eddie shot up real fast. “Make a move? On who, Steve?”

“Yea, on Steve, doofus!” Robin reprimanded.

“There’s no board to make a move on.” Eddie pushed stubbornly. Because it was true. There was nothing there.

Robin groaned and dropped her head to the table.

“Dude, relax your knee. It’s shaking the whole table.” Jonathan tapped Eddie’s leg under the booth.

“Sorry, sorry. He’s been gone a while, right?” Eddie craned his head to look around the bodies of people dancing.

Robin huffed. “Yeah, kinda. But there are six of us, maybe he’s having trouble carrying all the drinks.”

Nancy suddenly kicked his leg under the table, a lot harder than her boyfriend had earlier. Eddie winced.

“Go help him.” Nancy all but demanded.

Eddie was up and away in a second, happy to have an excuse. He faintly heard Nancy and Robin high five behind him.

He weaved through the dancing crowd, bodies jostling him and pushing him forward until he got to the bar and finally spotted Steve and—

And?

Something bubbled low in Eddie’s gut at the man standing in front of Steve. He was taller than both Steve and Eddie, well-built and had a bit of a beard going. He was leaning on the bar next to Steve, sort of caging him in. The scene made Eddie mad for reasons he didn’t give himself time to think about before he inserting himself.

“Steve!”

Both Steve and the asshole’s heads turned to Eddie. Steve’s eyes lit up in recognition and relief while the man’s narrowed in anger at being interrupted.

“You know him, doll?”

Eddie wanted to make the man spit his own teeth out. Nobody else got to call Steve pet names. Just Eddie. It was an Eddie Thing, not an Everybody Thing. Fuck this guy.

“Yeah—“ Steve started.

“Yeah, he does. And yet I don’t think he knows you.”

Eddie stood shoulder to shoulder with Steve, glaring daggers at the douche.

The man scoffed and huffed, walking away and muttering under his breath. Eddie scowled until he could see the guy and his stupid beard. He finally turned to Steve.

Who was absolutely red in the face.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked worriedly. “He wasn’t bothering you right? He seemed like a dick, looked like one even before I got up close.”

Steve stared at Eddie wide-eyed with his pretty lips parted. He blinked and spluttered a response.

“U—um, yeah! Yeah, no, I’m— I’m good. I’m alright. I’m great! Yep, great! Uh—“

“Are you sure?” Eddie was concerned, never having heard Steve stumble over a simple sentence so much.

Steve nodded vigorously before turning to the bar snappily. Eddie could still see the red painting his ears.

“Yep! Perfect! Could you help with the drinks? I don’t think I can carry them all, thanks!” And he was off back to the table.

Eddie stared after him for a moment before slowly grabbing the other three drinks and following back through the sea of bodies.

Steve was sat by the time Eddie got back to the booth, whispering heatedly with Robin, Eddie only managing to hear Steve hiss to her “that wouldn’t work!” before noticing his presence and shutting up all together.

Eddie raised an eyebrow but let it slide while he gave Nancy and Jon their drinks. He slid into the booth next to Steve who sat between him and Robin and across from Jonathan.

For the next 10 minutes, they all talked. They talked and laughed and joked and drank. But Steve seemed more in his head than usual.

Eddie was just working up the courage to ask him what was wrong when a guy came up to their table, eyeing Steve. Eddie immediately tensed.

“Hi.”

All six heads turned to the dude who just showed up. But that didn’t deter him much.

“I was just wondering if pretty boy here wanted to dance?” He smirked at Steve, who Eddie felt tense up beside him.

“Um—“ Steve’s voice was kind of shaky, barely. But it was enough (mixed with the anger already brewing in his gut at the NERVE of this guy) for Eddie to finally step in.

“He’s alright.”

Six heads suddenly turned on him.

“Excuse me?” The asshole asked.

“You’re excused.” Eddie waved his hand in a shooing motion.

“Well I hadn’t exactly—“

“And I hadn’t exactly /asked/, now have I? Goodbye.” Eddie didn’t even bother offering a smile to hide the aggression in his tone. His message was clear: Get Lost.

The douche walked away grumbling and conversation soon resumed at the table.

“What was that!?” Jonathan asked incredulously.

Nancy and Argyle were both openly staring at Eddie in bewilderment.

Eddie shifted, but was more focused on the fact that Steve seemed to relax again.

“The dude was being an asshole. Just told him to get lost, not a big deal.”

“He was just asking Steve to dance? I don’t see the problem there.” Robin cut in.

It gave Eddie pause for thinking. She was right; there really was no problem there, so why had he been so upset about the dude asking Steve to dance. God just the thought of it left a bad taste in his mouth.

“It’s fine, Rob. I was just gonna tell him no anyway.”

Eddie looked at Steve then, who was a whole new shade of red.

“Are you alright? You’re all red again.” Eddie worried. Jonathan snorted into his drink and then winced when Steve kicked him under the table. Steve looked at Eddie.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed in the tight space I think. You wanna— uh— you wanna go dance?”

Eddie didn’t waste a second with his answer. “Sure.”

Eddie watched Steve and Robin have a silent conversation with their eyes and expressions before Robin grinned in victory and waved at them eagerly.

“Buh-bye! Have fun!” She sing-songed. Steve shot her a glare.

Eddie led Steve to the dance floor somewhere towards the edge of the crowd where there was less people. They really just stood there talking and sipping on their drinks while everyone around them danced.

“Hey, uh— thanks for telling him to back off. I’ve, I’ve never actually… been flirted with? By a guy, I mean— this is like— a brand new thing. But he and the other dude seemed just really creepy so— uh, thanks.” Steve stumbled through.

Eddie stared at his wide, earnest eyes and wondered how no guy had ever flirted with Steve before tonight. Even if the idea of it ever happening made him want to hurt somebody.

(Even though Eddie knows that guys have flirted with Steve before. Knows that he didn’t just make up those looks Tommy Hagan and Billy Hargrove gave him.)

So Eddie smiled and shook his head. “You’re all good, sweetheart. Just don’t want you running into the wrong guys.”

That pretty blush was back again, making Steve look even more breathtaking under the florescent lights and making his smile twice as bright.

Then they were rudely interrupted.

“Hey, babyboy.” Came an obnoxious call from behind Eddie. The guy was, again, taller that Steve, but this time he was barely taller than Eddie (a/n lemme live in slightly shorter Steve fantasy ok—). Eddie immediately hated him and his entire existence. Who just called people that? Babyboy? Was he serious or delusional?

Eddie watched Steve’s shoulders tense awkwardly while the guy spoke. His anger only grew and grew.

“Alright that’s enough dude, he’s not interested.”

The guy didn’t say anything to Eddie but kept talking to Steve which only served to irk Eddie further.

“I said he’s not interested ass face.” Eddie grabbed the guy’s shoulder. He finally looked at Eddie, seeming bored.

“He hasn’t said anything? Why not let the babydoll decide, huh?” He smirked at Steve. Eddie wanted to puke and scream at the same time. He felt like he was chewing on nails listening to this guy. Babydoll? First babyboy and now BABYDOLL??? Who the fuck was this dude? And more importantly would the possible assault charges be worth it?

“Um— yeah, I’m sorry. I’m not really interested in looking for anybody tonight.” Steve confirmed.

“Oh c’mon, doll face, don’t be like that.”

Oh the assault charges would so be worth it.

“He just said he wasn’t interested so fuck off.” Eddie shoved his shoulder. The dude finally turned to look at Eddie, leveling him with a glare that Eddie happily returned tenfold. If looks could kill the guy would have been fucking obliterated on sight.

“If he wasn’t interested then why’s he dressed like that, huh?”

Jail was looking mighty fine to Eddie.

“I’m right fucking here, asshat.” Steve spoke up. “And Im dressed like this because I look good and I know it. Not for fucks like you who have to beg for scraps to get by. I said I wasn’t interested and you’re just causing more of a headache if anything.”

Eddie grinned at Steve. It was so hot when he got all bitchy.

The asshole scoffed. “Oh so baby’s got a mouth on him.”

Eddie finally snapped, those assault charges no where in mind when he punched the guy in the face.

“Eddie!” Steve yelled, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden violence.

The guy left after that with a threat of harassment charges. Steve took Eddie outside to the alleyway on the side of the club to get away from the crowd and to better examine his freshly bruised knuckles.

“You didn’t have to punch him.”

“He fucking had it coming.” Eddie spat through clenched teeth. He was still seething. And Steve was prodding at the bruises but that was neither here nor there.

Steve looked at Eddie, still holding his bruised hand. His eyes were wide as always and his cheeks flushed once more. His eyes seemed to search Eddie for something.

“Was it cause he was an ass?”

Eddie scoffed. “Of course! He was an ass and made you uncomfortable and—“

And I wanted to be the one to call you baby.

“And?” Steve prompted.

“And… and I hated how he talked to you.”

Steve looked down at Eddie hand, the blush rising to ears again. Eddie hooked a finger under Steve’s chin with the hand that wasn’t bruised and being held.

“Hey, you alright? You’re getting all quiet again.”

Steve’s eyes flitted back and forth between Eddie’s own before he sighed.

“Eddie.. I can’t— I don’t understand.”

Eddie pouted, confused. “Don’t understand what? There’s not much to it, honey.”

Steve cheeks pinkened again with the endearment. “Not— not that. I get that he was a dick— a massive dick attitude to make up for what he was surely lacking—“

That startled a laugh out of Eddie.

“—but I guess I don’t understand the other times? You were never like this before when anyone else flirted, so what changed tonight?”

And wasn’t that a thought.

What changed?

Well for starters, he wanted to kiss Steve. He wanted to kiss Steve senseless, shove him up against a wall and stick his tongue down his throat until he was breathless an begging for it.

So that’s changed.

But he also wanted to hug Steve and hold him right and call him things like Sweetheart and Honey and Love and Baby (which he already does anyway for the most part). He wanted to take Steve places and show him things. Wanted to give Steve every pretty rock he found and show him every cool leaf he saw.

What changed was that he wanted Steve in every which way Steve would let him have him.

But of course, Eddie didn’t express these aloud.

“Eddie…” Steve stared wide-eyed with his mouth opened in shock, his face a violent shade of red.

Or maybe he did express them aloud.

He’d drank more than he thought.

And then Steve was kissing him. Steve was pulling him in by the hand he was holding and pressing their lips together in a kiss that Eddie would never forget, not matter how much he’d drank that night.

They let go of each others hands, Eddie immediately grabbing Steve’s waist and Steve tangling his hands in Eddie hair.

By the time they’d pulled away to breathe Eddie bad fulfilled his wish of shoving Steve against a wall and sticking his tongue down his throat.

“So you were jealous?” Steve teased, playing with Eddie hair where his arms were still wrapped around his neck.

Eddie grumbled under his breath and kissed Steve to shut him up. Steve hummed and smiled into the kiss.

“Kissing me into going to make me drop it, Munson. You were totally jealous of those guys in there.”

Eddie huffed and stooped lower to kiss at Steve neck, gaining an immediate reaction with Steve’s stuttered breath and sudden silence. Eddie chuckled.

“Oh? I thought kissing you wasn’t going to make you drop it.”

Steve hit his shoulder weakly. “Shut it, asshole— mm!” Eddie bit down lightly on the side of his neck.

Then the door to the alley was opening and Robin was telling them to get their horny asses home before thy got arrested for public indecency.

So they agreed to pick up at home. And the whole ride there was filled with relentless teasing about Eddie’s apparent jealousy towards any guy who so much as looked at Steve oddly.

It’s rushed I know but it’s like 2am on a school night 😭 and I’m not upset with the results. Could it be better? Yeah. Could it be worse? Absolutely. It’s not my finest work but oh well 🤷

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bentnotbroken1fanfiction · 5 years

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How about a haunted house au for spooky season? Like they could go through one or maybe they work there? Also I love you and your writing!! :)

Here you go, anon. Thank you for the fun prompt! Hopefully you like it.

Steve Harrington has a secret.

Ok, he has a few secrets, but this one is most likely going to get him laughed at and he'd rather avoid that if he can.

But it's so hard to say no to Billy Hargrove and Max Mayfield. Anyone would tell you the siblings just have this ability to make people do what they want without much resistance. And tonight they have Steve in their sights.

Maybe it's Billy's charming smile, which he has perfected for this very purpose, that has Steve reluctantly agreeing. Maybe it's the way he looks at Steve when he asks, like it would be the worst thing in the world if he denied him this. But most likely it's because he's gone on the bastard and will do just about anything to make him happy.

So, yeah, that's why he's standing here in front of The Hannah House, on a dark, cold October night, when he'd much rather be at home drinking hot chocolate with a blanket wrapped around him. His heart is racing -really it had been racing before they even got to Indy- because he's fucking terrified ok?

Haunted houses are so not his scene, but he'd managed to keep that little fact underwraps for the last, oh, eighteen years. It's probably going to come out tonight though. He's ninety percent sure of that, because this is the most haunted house in Indiana.

Steve's going to make a fucking fool out of himself.

"I can't believe you talked Steve into this." Max says, bouncing on the balls of her feet behind him. "Dustin couldn't even get him to go to the lame one in Hawkins last year."

Billy smirks and Steve hates him a little bit. "That's because Dustin doesn't suck his-"

Steve slaps a hand over his mouth before he can finish his sentence. "Oh my god, shut up ."

Billy licks his hand and Steve pulls it away and wipes it on his jacket, because really?

"Relax, Harrington. Nobody here even knows us."

"Steve's right. Stop being gross ," Max whines. "I don't want to hear about your sex life right now. I've already heard enough of it through the walls to last me a lifetime."

Yeah, Steve's ears are burning. He might hate Max a little too. At least it distracted him for a second.

They are the last group allowed to enter and his hands are shaking a bit. He's definitely sweating too. Shit.

Billy throws an arm over his shoulder. "What's wrong? You nervous?"

Yes. He's fucking nervous . He is a total scaredy cat. "No, I'm fine." He lies.

"You sure?" He asks with a small grin. "Because you can hold my hand if you're scared."

"Fuck you." He groans, because, no he does not need to hold his hand. He's not a child. He can do this. He's fine.

Read full one shot here.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #haunted houses #spooky #ish #scared steve #tumblr prompts #anon ask

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thephantomofthe-internet · 6 years

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The Plan

Billy Hargrove x Reader, Steve Harrington x Reader [Platonic]

Word Count: 3593

Warnings: Swearing

Tag List: @steveharringtonofficial @hotstuffhargrove @denimjacketkisses @flamehairedwritings

Feedback Appreciated

You paced her room frantically, running your shaking hands through your hair, pushing Y/H/C tendrils out of your face as though they really bothered you, though refusing to use the pink scrunchie on your wrist to tie it back. Steve was sitting on your bed, staring at the gray carpet as though it had personally offended him.

“Are you sure we should do this?” he muttered, more to himself than to you, not looking up, his hands supporting his head, his elbows digging into his thighs.

You stopped dead in your tracks, looking over at Steve, indignant “We have to. For the good of the team.” you snapped, rough, anxious edges to your voice that could cut the strongest of men to shreds. But Steve had heard it before, several times, he’d heard the same tone five minutes ago when he’d tried to question the plan.

The plan was to handle Billy. He’d been getting too close too fast to the dangerous situation the group of teens had found themselves in the middle of. And he couldn’t know. Not because you were to prideful to ask him to help, to understand, but legally-if the FBI or CIA found out about you or anyone else blabbing about the incidents at Hawkins lab, they’d be locked up for life or worse. You had only found out because you stumbled head first into it, demanding answers from Steve and the kids as they ran off to fight monsters and nearly getting eaten by one of said monsters after you followed them. And Billy wasn’t ever going to get himself into any of that trouble because you wouldn’t let him; you lied your way out of every question and pushed him away before any danger arrived. The plan was just another way of keeping him safe.

“So I’m just supposed to get my face beat in because Nancy and Jonathan decide that the way we’ve been doing things is too risky?” Steve demanded, sitting up with a start, eyes full of fire.

“He won’t touch you. Even if he’s mad at me, he won’t, not with me here.” you shot back.

“So what? You’re just gonna follow me around all the time to protect me? Think rationally, Y/N.” Steve muttered, dropping his head into his hands again.

You clicked your tongue, frustrated and tired. You hadn’t slept well in awhile, nerves and guilt wracking at your gut night after night. It didn’t help that when you did go to sleep, you had nightmares about Billy getting killed by demo-dogs, ripped apart like a rag doll and left to bleed out, moaning your name.

“Look, I don’t have the answers. And this plan is absolute shit, I’m not even sure he’ll believe it! But this is what Nancy and Jonathan think will work and I trust them. You can choose to follow along and put yourself in the line of fire, the way you have been this entire time, or you can go home and I’ll handle this on my own.” You declared, looking down at Steve with wide, worried, vulnerable eyes.

You were scared. Jesus Christ were you scared. Scared of what would happen once you saw Billy, if you could go through with it, and what would happen when Billy saw Steve. You trusted Billy, oh Lord did you trust him, but this was something else. Billy was volatile, prone to lashing out when he left intimidated or boxed in. And he’d gotten better, restraining himself when he thought you would like him to, but this was a whole other can of worms. This was what Billy was afraid of.

Billy was paranoid that you were cheating on him, and Steve was generally the target of his suspicion. He didn’t know that you were platonic, that Steve had no interest in you, that he and you had been forced to be friendly because of the whole mess in Hawkins. And he wouldn’t, no, couldn’t believe that you genuinely were interested in him.

You weren’t sweet, you weren’t pure or virtuous, and you certainly weren’t without your faults, but Billy didn’t see why you would stay with him. The thing that he was stuck on was that you weren’t fucked up. Billy was fucked up-years of abuse from his father had left him emotionally stunted and ready bolt whenever anyone tried to get close. He hardly had a grasp on his selfhood beyond the charming asshole he presented to his peers and the broken kid his father beat for the slightest infraction. He knew he was screwed up, but he knew you weren’t and he refused to let himself ruin you.

He hid from you for so long, refusing to let you in beyond what everyone else got. But you didn’t push. That was what he loved about you, even without truly knowing what was happening; you never tried to make him change. You told him that he was fucked up, that he did awful things, and that you wouldn’t tolerate shit from him, but you never directly demanded change from him; you simply made it known that you wouldn’t stay with him if the actions continued. He opened up to you, slowly at first, and then all at once the floodgates opened and he let everything go.

You were the only person he could vulnerable with. And you were about to destroy him in a single conversation.

A rock hit your window, sending a sharp tap into the room, breaking the silence Steve had refused to fill. Both of your heads snapped to look at each other, fear and reluctance etched on their faces.

“Last chance to run, Harrington…” you said softly, cocking your eyebrow, nodding towards the door. You almost hoped he’d say yes and go, then you could come up with another option instead of the one you had.

But Steve simply shook his head, pushing himself off the bed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. You nodded awkwardly and shuffled over to the window, opening it and sticking your head out, squinting in the dark to see Billy smirking up at you.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel let down your hair!” he called and you could practically hear the smirk on his lips, his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket. If you weren’t so scared, you would’ve laughed.

“Meet me at the side door.” You called down, turning your back to him before listening for a response. You mustered a fake smile, looking to Steve “Here we go.” you said, stalking past him to the door.

“No stopping it now.” He replied, equally false and nervous. You left him to pace your room, walking out into the dark hallway and down the stairs, heading into the kitchen. Your mother was out for the night, her boyfriend Richard taking her into the city to dinner and a show, but you weren’t taking any chances.

With nervous hands, you turned the lock and pulled the door open, revealing your incredibly handsome boyfriend in all his practically bare-chested glory. And he was smiling, not smirking, and not a fake smile either-a rare, genuine smile. A smile that made your knees go weak and your heart flutter, even when you wanted to run away and never come back, change your name and your face and hide away somewhere where nobody went, like Idaho or Ohio or Alaska, and live your life in secluded peace where there were no monsters to fight and no government secrets to keep and no Nancys and Jonathans to please and no Steves to tolerate and no Billys to lie to.

No Billys to break into a million pieces.

Billy noticed instantly that something was wrong. You weren’t a fantastic actor and moments like these proved it-your face always gave you away. Your face was pulled into grimace filled with pain and anxiety; your eyebrows knit together, your mouth tight, and your eyes watery. “What? Your mom home or something?” he asked, trying to keep things light before dropping his voice to lower whisper meant for you only, his smile dropping into a concerned frown “Your dad call or something?” he asked.

You shook your head, resisting the urge to tell him everything. “Billy…I-I have to tell you something.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside, the rehearsed speech feeling heavy on your tongue.

Billy quirked his brow “What you pregnant or something?” he joked, his frown turning to a smirk.

You chuckled darkly “No, you’re safe there, sport.” you looked away quickly, your confidence dropping away “You aren’t gonna be happy, though…” you added, pulling him out of the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure we can handle it.” he replied too easily. You wanted to wring his neck, to scream at him that he should be worrying, that he should be preparing himself for the worst. But you held your composure, walking up the stairs like Marie Antoinette to the guillotine.

You trudged silently up the stairs, letting the tension in your room above fill the air. Once at the closed door, you grabbed the handle but didn’t turn it right away, looking back to Billy with pleading eyes “Just…just let me explain before you freak out…” you muttered, turning the handle and opening the door.

The lights in the room were brighter than you’d remembered and Steve stood out like a sore thumb in the bright purple atmosphere, old posters pinned to the wall and the two big shelves flanking the wall closest to them, covered in well worn paperbacks and records. You heard Billy’s breath hitch just slightly behind you and resisted the urge to grab his hand and make promises you couldn’t keep.

“Billy…I messed up.” you said, letting him look from you to Steve and back again, hoping for some sort of realisation to hit him.

But it didn’t.

“No you didn’t.” he replied, crossing his arms, stepping out from behind you and into the room he knew so well, flopping on the bed.

“Yes, yes I did. Billy I slept with Steve.” You affirmed, stepping towards Steve, who was bracing himself for some sort of fight.

Billy looked at you like you grew a second, prettier head next to your own “No, no you didn’t. I’d know.” He replied smoothly, not bothering to look at Steve.

You scoffed, growing tired of the conversation by the minute. This whole thing was getting ridiculous “How would you know?”

Billy rolled his eyes, sitting up “Well, for one thing, you wouldn’t have let me in if you had another guy in your room after fucking him, you aren’t that stupid.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out, leaving you gaping like a dead fish.

“Second, Harrington over here is too much of a wimp to stick around if he knew that I was coming up. No one’s that fucking stupid.” Billy finished, raising his eyebrows as if to challenge you.

“When did I say it happened tonight?” You challenged, taking a step towards him.

“Oh? When did it happen, then?” Billy asked.

“Two weekends ago. After babysitting the kids.” Steve announced, speaking for the first time since Billy entered the room, calling out of turn like a child. You groaned, looking to Steve.

“Two weeks ago, huh? Cause if I remember correctly, you weren’t babysitting then, you were with me that all that Saturday and most of Sunday, so when did you find time to cheat on me with Harrington.” Billy explained, smirking proudly. He’d very clearly won that fight.

Your eyes went so wide you were sure they were going to fall out of their sockets onto the floor like in a crappy horror movie. You smacked Steve’s arm impulsively, crying “Can you do anything right? All you had to do was stand there while I handled this and you couldn’t even manage silence? Jesus!”

“What the hell is going on?” Billy demanded, jumping off the bed to grab you, turning you roughly to face him.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” You snapped, trying to get out of his grasp, his rough hands holding you firmly in front of him by your arms.

“Try me.” Billy retorted. You looked from Steve to Billy and back again before groaning loudly and nodding.

“Steve, get out. I’ve got it from here.” You said “You’ve messed up enough for one night.” Steve scoffed but did as he told, demanding that you call him later and tell him what happened. You nodded but made no promises; you knew he wouldn’t be happy when he found out what you were going to do.

Billy let you go the instant Steve was gone, brushing off your bare arms as though he’d left some sort of invisible dirt. You sat down on the end of your bed, patting the spot next to you. Billy did so, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you over to him.

“You have to promise that you won’t interrupt me. Let me explain and when I’m done you can react however you want.” you said, sighing deeply.

“Alright…” Billy replied sceptically, watching you nervously.

You took a deep breath through your nose, letting it out slowly, your eyes locked on your white popcorn ceiling, stepping away from Billy as though he was making you feel claustrophobic, not the whole situation itself. Then, you blurted out as fast as you could “I’m involved in a government conspiracy and I can’t tell you about it.”

And Billy was completely silent for awhile, staring at you. This was a rarity for him-he always had a comeback or a comment to throw into any conversation, he always had a response. But this time, he was listening, truly listening. He wasn’t trying to talk over you or tell his own story or fight you.

You told him everything-from the mysterious disappearance and reappearance of ‘Zombie Boy’ Will Byers, the reported Russian girl, and Hawkins Labs. You explained the upside down about as well as you could, trying to get across the concept about as well as Jonathan had explained it to you, which evidently wasn’t very well. You explained the whole El situation and how important it was to keep her secret and safe. You told him about Barb and Bob and the way their deaths crushed your little party and how easily they’d been killed and covered up. You explained how Max had got roped into everything and how you were involved. Every single detail you could remember, you told him with the same honest sincerity you’d use to explain your feelings about anything else.

And Billy didn’t believe you for a second. When you finished, he cackled, clutching at his stomach as though you’d just done the best comedy routine in history, tears in his eyes. That’s why he was quiet, he was holding back heavy laughter with an iron gut.

“You’re fucking funny, you know that?” he said between gasping breaths, smiling at his in a way that felt all at once genuine and condescending.

“I’m serious Billy.” you replied, pushing him off of you.

“Yeah, just like you fucked Harrington? Why are just lying to me tonight? You playing some stupid game with Nancy or some shit?” Billy asked incredulously.

“This isn’t some stupid game, Billy! Why the fuck would I make up something like that?” you exploded, jumping off the bed and pulling off your shirt, revealing fresh black stitches on your back.

“I don’t know? For attention!” Billy retorted, a hand gripping the long, greasy strands of hair on the back of his head, trying to anchor himself down.

“You don’t believe me. The one time I need you to believe me and you can’t.” she sniffled, emotions hitting her harder than she expected. Billy stood, watching you carefully, his eyes running over the stitches. He’d never seen you like this, so hurt and vulnerable. The wounds were fresh, but unlike all of his own marks, they were cared for and clean, the stitches lovingly stitched in even strokes across her skin. You couldn’t have faked those and you certainly couldn’t have put them in yourself. Something had to have happened.

“Look…” Billy started, standing up to look her in the eye, gently turning her again, hands resting on her lower back, his fingers unintentionally brushing fresh stitches, a reminder of the danger she actually faced, danger Billy wouldn’t believe was happening. “I don’t know what shit you’re going through, but this story isn’t the truth.” He restated, shaking his head slowly.

You pushed his hands off of you, wincing as the scratched across the healing wound “What the hell else could have done this, Billy? What else could’ve taken chunks out of my back? I didn’t fall off the bus or some shit, this is serious!” you exploded, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks.

Billy’s heart broke watching you break down, sobs wracking your tiny body, skinny pale fingers hiding your eyes, Billy noting for the first time how sickly you look, your natural colour paling and your whole body skinnier than normal. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

“Billy, something is happening all around you, and I know you can’t see it and you don’t believe me, but you have to trust me that something is wrong. Very, very wrong.” You choked out.

Billy took a tentative step towards you, hands reaching out to graze your shoulders, pulling you gently into his chest. “I believe you, Y/N, you say something is wrong and I believe you. I don’t believe that what you say is happening really is the truth, but I can tell that something is wrong. And I don’t know how to help you, but what I do know is that I’m going to protect you from whatever it is, even if it is just yourself.” He said slowly, lifting her chin to look at him.

You sighed “I don’t want you near this.” she looked away from him “It’s dangerous and I got myself into the mess myself and I don’t need you messing up your chances by getting involved. I appreciate you wanting to protect me, and the best thing you can do for me is stay out of it. Is be here, holding me. That’s all.”

Billy shook his head. That was the thing about Billy-he pushed. He pushed and he fought and he demanded your attention. “No way in hell, Y/N, whatever’s going on, I’m gonna be there, watching out for you. I won’t let you do this on your own.” He said.

And you nodded. You didn’t push and you didn’t fight. You let him demand the right to be there for you, to demand the chance to earn your love and your trust. Billy didn’t care about the risk, or losing the slowly growing good word about him, he simply care about you. He made a note in his head to watch you a little closer than he did before, to keep you out of danger if he could.

Billy kissed you softly, first on the forehead then the tip of your nose and then your lips, softly, sweetly, slowly-a rare kiss from him. And you felt safe for the first time in awhile, safer than you did with Steve and Jonathan and Nancy protecting you and each other. You let him kiss you, you kissed him back, and you let him drag you into bed and hold you all night. You made a note to call Nancy in the morning, to explain what happened, she was going to be so pissed off.

You knew that you couldn’t take what you’d said back. And to be honest, you didn’t want to. Unlike everyone else in the little party, you trusted Billy with your life. You knew that he could handle it, that he might even thrive in such a high intensity situation. You knew that he was smart and capable and strong. And if tonight reaffirmed anything, he was kind and caring. Sure, he didn’t show it as often as the others, but he genuinely loved you. He wanted to keep you safe.

Nancy and the others were going to have an absolute field day with this, another reminder to Jonathan and Mike that you weren’t good for the team, another reason to get rid of you. And while those issues were a concern for you, they took a backseat in your mind for the first time. You anxieties, for the moment, washed away, and you focused on the strong arms holding you, the soft breathing of Billy behind you, snoring softly, drooling just a little into your hair. You didn’t mind though, you focus on the way his chest rose and fell against your back, a metronome lulling you to sleep.

You didn’t want him to get involved, but somehow, someway you knew that you wanted him wherever you were, trying to hold his ground, trying to risk his life just to prove that he loved you.

“Billy?” you whispered into the darkness. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake, fully at peace in his chaotic world. “I love you…I really do and I’m gonna protect you.”

You would protect. Protect him from the upside down. And Hawkins Labs. And Neil. And himself. And whatever the hell else the world decided to throw at you. You were a team. Plain and simple. He was your person. And you would protect him with everything you had.

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shortcakemonster · 6 years

Text

Go-Away Green pt. 2

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: The reader receives several requests to join the decathlon team. Her reaction provokes even more suspicion from Peter.

There were eyes on you. You could feel them.

Look away look away look away look away.

Why were they looking at you for this long? Usually, if someone looked at you, you wouldn’t even have time to deflect their gaze- they would’ve moved on before you’d realized it.

But this had been going on for at least ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty. Why were they staring so much?!

Look away look away look away LOOK AWAY.

Maybe if you managed to make eye contact with whoever it was and caught them in the act, they’d stop staring at you. But there was no way in hell you were doing that.

BRRRIIIIIIIIIINNNGG!

You closed your eyes and let out a sigh of relief as the bell rang for lunch. Another advantage of not taking notes meant that you didn’t waste precious seconds collecting all your things into your backpack. You were immediately ready to slip out the back door and into the hallway before it got too crowded.

“(Y/N)?” came Mr. Harrington’s voice.

You froze momentarily, your back facing the front of the class. You inched forward experimentally.

Forget me forget me forget me don’t call my name again let me leave let me-

“(Y/N)!”

You took a deep breath, trying to quell the nausea in your gut. You shakily turned around and silently made your way to Mr. Harrington’s desk, your head down.

Talking to people was harrowing enough, but he was a teacher! What if you’d failed a test, or forgotten to turn in an assignment? What if he’d caught on to your abilities? What if he noticed that you didn’t take notes and thought you were cheating?

“I’m gonna keep this quick, ‘cause I’m sure you want to get to lunch,” Mr. Harrington interrupted your thoughts. “You’ve aced every single test you’ve gotten in this class, you write excellent papers- what I mean to say is that you’re a great student. I don’t know if you’re aware, but I’m the coach for the decathlon team.” Of course you were aware. “And because Liz unfortunately had to leave earlier this year, we’re a little short. Not drastically, but we could use someone else for the team. Would you like to think it over?”

You were supposed to be just a name on a paper. He wasn’t supposed to put a face and a personality to that name. How did he even recall you as a student? You’d never answered a question correctly in front of him because he’d never managed to call on you!

He’d mentioned your essays, your test scores- would you have to dumb it down in order to get his attention off of you? Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that. Maybe he’d find another student. Besides, he now had an expectation that you would do well in class. If you broke that expectation, it would raise even more questions.

His eyes, tired and hopeful, made you want to go bury yourself under a rock. Your gaze darted away from his as you shook your head, careful not to do it too frantically, before muttering the only word you’d said all day: “Can’t.”

It only got worse at lunch.

You normally sat by yourself in a corner somewhere, or outside on occasion, just so long as you were alone. You would also take out a book and put on some headphones to communicate the fact that you were Not Interested in Conversation. You never actually read or listened to music, though. Instead, your attention fell on the ambient noises of the cafeteria and the people you could make out in your peripheral vision.

It was strangely calming, in spite of all the other people around you. Maybe it served as a reminder of how unnoticeable you were in a crowd this large.

Unfortunately, your peace didn’t last for very long, as you began to feel eyes on you. Cautious as ever, you looked up to see none other than Michelle Jones- otherwise known as MJ- heading straight toward you.

The second she sat down at your table, you stood up and mumbled an apology from under your breath, your possessions already in your arms.

MJ’s hand shot out and nearly caught you around the wrist, but you quickly retracted your arm.

“No, no, sit. I just wanted to talk to you.”

You felt a pit in your stomach. Your heart raced, your mouth became dry. You made an attempt at getting her to leave you alone-

Stand up and walk away forget me go away don’t look back forget me.

-but it proved futile. You forced yourself to sit down.

“You might not know this, but I’m the captain of the decathlon team.” Of course you knew. “Mr. Harrington told me about you, and according to him, you’d be a good addition to the team.”

People were talking about you when you weren’t around. You weren’t supposed to exist in people’s minds. Of all the things in the world that other people could talk about, think about, why did you have to qualify?

It was easier to make someone disregard you if they had no aim or attachment to you. You were sickly proud to say that nobody at school was attached to you on a personal level, but when they had an aim, such as getting you on the decathlon team, they were a little harder to ward off. Especially when they were as smart and driven as MJ. She would never admit to being anything resembling a good leader, but it couldn’t be denied that she was one.

Still, as much as you admired her, it didn’t mean you were comfortable being on a team with her a bunch of other people- answering timed questions in front of a large crowd, no less.

You clutched your book and your backpack tightly to your chest. “N-no thanks,” you managed to spit out.

MJ was completely unfazed. “‘Kay.” She stood up and walked away, leaving you confused but relieved.

Michelle Jones returned to a lunch table full of expectant decathlon members. They all leaned forward in anticipation as she sat down.

“Well?” Ned prompted.

MJ looked up, as if suddenly remembering her purpose. “Oh, right. She’s not joining.”

Before anyone else had time to react, Flash hopped out of his seat and began sauntering over to your table.

“I’ll convince her,” he declared. “Nobody can resist the Flash.” He popped his collar for emphasis.

MJ watched him walk for a while, then turned back to the rest of the team, her voice low. “Alright, real talk, I’m starting to get invested in this girl solely if it means we can kick Flash off the team.”

Suddenly, everyone else at the table had a new resolve to recruit you, nodding furiously along with MJ.

A sudden realization dawned on Peter. “Wait, does Flash even know her name?”

Everyone at the table groaned.

Eyes on you. More than just two, this time, though one pair was particularly interested. You focused on the ground, then followed the path before you up until you saw expensive shoes... skinny jeans... a polo with a popped collar... and an incredibly cocky grin.

Oh, no. There was no way they were siccing Flash Thompson on you.

It didn’t take much effort.

Turn around and forget me.

And just like that, Flash spun on his heel and returned to his table, plopping down into the seat beside MJ.

“The hell was that?” Ned asked. “Did you chicken out?”

Flash, lost in some sort of trance, blinked back to reality. “Huh?”

Peter rolled his eyes and stood up from the table. “Third time’s a charm.”

“Actually, fourth time, since Mr. Harrington asked her earlier,” Ned pointed out.

“Considering Flash didn’t even make it to the table, I’m gonna count this as the third time.”

Of course, Peter had other motivations besides getting you on the team. He’d felt it all during lunch so far, especially when Flash and MJ had come near you. His senses kicked in, alerting him to... something, he didn’t know what.

You were doing something strange, and it was possible that you were the reason why Flash looked so out of it when he came back. Even MJ needed a second to come back to Earth.

Had you hypnotized them, somehow? His heartbeat sped up at the thought, especially now that he was approaching you by himself. Oh, well. Better him than any of his friends. At least he was somewhat aware of whatever it was you were doing.

He didn’t get within six feet of your table before you abruptly stood up and darted through the crowded cafeteria, making a straight exit out the door. He entertained the thought of following you, but ultimately decided against it.

Peter returned to the table, slightly disappointed and majorly confused.

MJ, as always, brushed it off. “Look, she clearly doesn’t want to join the team. We can’t force her.”

“Maybe she’s just having a bad day. We could try again later this week,” Ned suggested.

The team nodded in agreement and stood up as the bell rang. Peter glued himself to Ned’s side and ducked his head down, speaking quietly as they made their way to their lockers.

“Dude, I think something’s up with her.”

“Who? (Y/N)?”

“Who else? There’s something weird about her. It’s like I can’t focus on her for too long. Have you noticed that?”

“Hm, not really,” Ned mused. “I mean, it’s not like I know her all that well, but it’s hard to notice someone when they don’t talk much.”

“Yeah, but this is more than that,” Peter insisted. “I can feel it. And you saw Flash and MJ earlier, they seemed really, I dunno, out of it when they came back. Flash didn’t even talk to her at all and he still looked like that.”

Ned’s eyes lit up.“Maybe she’s like the Silence from Doctor Who!”

“I mean, it’s possible, except you don’t immediately forget about her when you turn away. Not always. At least, I don’t. Everyone else seems to, though.”

“How about the TARDIS key? When you wear it, it makes you unnoticeable to everyone around you!”

“What’s with all the Doctor Who references?”

“Not my fault that show’s amazing,” Ned replied, shrugging.

Peter opened his mouth to reply, but his eye caught someone in the distance- you ducking around and in between people. What was your name again? His words died on his tongue.

A/N: I won’t be posting for a few days because I’ll be out of town and I won’t have very good Wi-Fi. Thanks so much for reading!

Tag list:

@3003st @aubreylovesthegames @embrace-themagic @hawaiiantozier @honestlysasha @literallyjustshipping @soullesstrashcan @spider-stud @stone2576

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #mcu #spider man #spiderman #reader insert #marvel #tom holland #go away green

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dutifullymadameashley · 7 years

Text

Stonathan Fanfiction: A Study in Attraction: Chapter 5

The door opens and Steve is greeted by the warm, bewildered smile of Joyce Byers; this is more startling than it should be. In Steve’s world, parents are rarely home, let alone present and right now Joyce is both, her face happily surprised by his arrival, her voice friendly and curious. “Steven! Come on in! Is Jonathan expecting you?”

As she’s closing the door behind him, Steve catches her stealing a quick glance in the direction of the driveway. He knows that she expects to see Nancy in the passenger seat of his BMW. Finding the car vacant, Joyce gives him a bemused look, but says nothing.

Steve has arrived a half-hour ahead of schedule hoping that he and Jonathan could fool around for a bit before heading out, but Joyce and her cheerful interrogation have thrown him off balance. He’s stammering something about grabbing a bite to eat just as Jonathan strolls into the living room.

His blond hair is towel-dried and unkempt, his slender frame clad in faded black jeans and a white T-shirt that clings to his chest and shoulders where the skin is still damp. He stops short when he sees Steve. “You’re early."

Harrington cocks an eyebrow, bites his lower lip and gives Jonathan an approving once-over that says, “Oh no, Jonny-boy, it looks as though I’m right on time.” The non-verbal message is received; Jonathan blushes and looks away to hide a pleased smile. It’s a perfect moment until Steve remembers that Joyce has witnessed the whole exchange.

“Well,” she says, breaking the awkward silence. “Have a good time, whatever you get up to.” Steve can’t bring himself to look at her, but he can easily envision the knowing grin on her face as she wanders out of the room, leaving the boys to exchange a look of wide-eyed relief.

***********

Steve is about to turn the key in the ignition but thinks better of it and places a hand on his date’s knee, leaning in for a kiss. Jonathan scowls, gesturing towards the house with a slight nod, and Harrington retreats with a sigh. “Your mom’s pretty nosy, huh?”

“She’s protective, if that’s what you mean.” Jonathan’s terse correction reminds Steve to tread carefully around the topic of Byers’ family.

When he starts the car, the radio is blasting “Love is a Battlefield” at full volume and Steve moves to turn it down. Jonathan does one better, producing a cassette tape from the pocket of his jacket and inserting it into the player just as Pat Benetar is launching into her overwrought chorus. The tape hisses for a few seconds before a sharp, jangly guitar fills the space; soon a lilting falsetto begins to croon. I would go out tonight but I haven’t got a stitch to wear… It is unlike anything Steve has ever heard, and he likes it immediately.

“Do you always carry a mix tape for hijacking the car stereos of others?”

“Top 40 radio makes my ears bleed. Besides, if you’re going to insist on driving, I insist on not being tormented by garbage pop rock.”

It’s true that Steve had been adamant about picking Jonathan up at his house rather than meeting downtown as they had for their cinema rendezvous. He reasoned that the evening would feel more like a date that way.

They pulled into the parking lot of Hawkins’ only pizzeria, and secured the last spot. “It’s pretty busy,” Jonathan observed, glancing around. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Harrington shut off the car. “Byers, we can’t sneak around all the time. No one will even notice us, provided that you can resist the urge to put your tongue down my throat between bites of garlic bread.”

“Ew. Shut up.”

“What, you don’t like garlic bread?”

Exasperated silence.

“Because I know you like putting your tongue in my mouth…”

Jonathan lunges at him as if to throw a punch, but instead grabs Steve’s jacket by the shoulder, pulling him in for a brief hot kiss then drawing back with a grin. “You talk shit just so I’ll shut you up, don’t you?”

Harrington shrugged. “What can I say? Guilty as charged.”

*************

They are seated in a corner booth of the restaurant, a large room dimly lit by old-fashioned stained glass lamps hanging low over each table. Jonathan fidgets with the straw in his cola, his eyes ceaselessly shifting around the space. Steve wants nothing more than to reach out and take his hand; it’s frustrating that, under the circumstances, a gesture intended to give comfort would only aggravate his companion’s anxious state.

“Hey,” he says softly, and Byers turns to him with a stricken look. “Everything’s cool, alright? As far as anyone else is concerned, we’re just a couple of guys out for pizza.” Then, dropping his voice to a whisper, he adds, “Nobody here has any idea about the things that went through my mind when I saw you in that wet T-shirt.”

Jonathan smiles in spite of himself. “What kinds of things?”

“Let’s just say that if your mom hadn’t been home, I would have…eaten this whole pizza by myself.” The waitress’ arrival interrupts Steve’s salacious chatter, and a tray of pepperoni pizza is set down between them.

They eat in silence until Steve gets bored. “You see, the thing I don’t get,” he remarks, around a mouthful of crust, “is that I thought you were one of those guys who didn’t give a shit what people thought of you, and now here you are more worried about it than I am.”

“You don’t know what it’s like to have been called a queer since before you even knew the meaning of the word,” Jonathan muttered.

“Well, you clearly haven’t met my father,” Steve pointed out, taking a swig of the beer the waitress brought without carding him. “That asshole never misses an opportunity to tell me that I style my hair like a faggot.”

“Christ, it sounds like your dad and my dad should get together and share a pizza,” Jonathan smirked. “Lonnie’s convinced that no ‘real man’ hates baseball, so naturally I’m a big disappointment.”

Steve gasped in mock outrage. “Wait – you hate baseball? I don’t think this is going to work out. I mean, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“Not everyone can swing a bat like you, Steve Harrington.” Jonathan’s tone is unexpectedly playful.

“Byers, are you flirting with me?”

There is a bold look in Jonathan’s enigmatic brown eyes, a sexy smirk playing on his lips. In a surprise reversal of roles, Steve is blushing.

*************

Jonathan refuses to be walked to the front door, flouting Steve’s attempt at dating etiquette with a sneer. Instead they sit in the car, trying to discern if the darkened windows of the Byers’ residence mean that Joyce is asleep or that she is spying. Steve yawns, stretches and brings one arm to rest across Jonathan’s shoulders; it’s an old trick, but it works, and Byers relaxes into his touch.

He draws Jonathan close, holding his shy gaze and tracing a path along the blond’s cheekbone with his thumb. When Steve speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”

Byers doesn’t roll his eyes, or make a snarky comment. He just smiles, turning up the volume on the mix tape that has been a mere murmur in the background. Joan Jett’s “Crimson & Clover.” The raw guitar and laconic vocal provide a raunchy backdrop as Jonathan plants a gentle kiss on Steve’s mouth, and they soon strike a familiar rhythm, steaming up the windows of the BMW as the music vibrates around them.

Hands are beginning to wander, and Steve’s pulse is racing with anticipation but Jonathan suddenly pulls away, his eyes on the headlights turning into the driveway. “Shit! It’s the cops!” Harrington hisses, adjusting himself to hide his arousal.

“It’s Hopper,” Jonathan mumbles, zipping up his jacket and moving to exit the vehicle.

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“No, it isn’t. Look, I’ve gotta go.” With a warm glance and a nod, Jonathan gets out of the car. Steve promises to call just as Byers is closing the door. Hopper has gotten out of his truck, and Steve watches with some curiosity as the two men enter the house together.

Harrington is about to back out of the driveway when he remembers the mix tape in his cassette deck. He hits ‘eject’ and examines the tape closely in the moonlight, his heart skipping when he reads the label, written in Jonathan’s neat hand: “For Steve, This Charming Man.”

#stranger things #stonathan #steve harrington #jonathan byers

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