(djo’s version)

To say that the last month had been draining would be putting it politely — but life moved on. The military had created a regulatory schedule including a strict curfew for Hawkins. From sun up to sun down, civilians were free to roam the town, excluding the MAC-Z in the center of downtown. School had even reopened, trying to provide the remaining children of Hawkins with an education and hope that normalcy would return. The people of Hawkins slowly returned to their regular jobs or chose to volunteer for the humanitarian organizations that brought in rations from the outside world. You wondered whether the eyes of the nation were focused on the insanity that had racked your once-small town, or if they had found a new tragedy to focus on. 

The knock of the doorway caught your attention, derailing your thoughts. You lifted your gaze from the manual you had been reading to where Steve stood in the entryway of the WSQK green room. He held a soda in both hands and flashed you an easy smile, approaching your side. 

This was your new normal. After Robin discovered that her favorite radio DJ had skipped town, leaving the station abandoned, the town committee needed new employees to manage the public airwaves. Steve and Robin were fresh out of a job with Family Video, choosing to shut down the Hawkins store. Plus, Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, and you would all be graduating high school and still be stuck in Hawkins until the gate was closed. 

So it was decided that your ragtag group would run the station and utilize it as a base of operations to locate Vecna. Dustin, your younger brother, led the charge in establishing a comms system, but that meant you needed to learn what every part of that tower did. 

“Studying up?” Steve asked as he offered you the cold soda. 

“Trying too. You never know what could happen, and at least one of us should know how all this works in case Dustin’s busy,” You rambled off with an explanation. 

Steve chuckled, his eyes flicking over your face in admiration, “Well, why don’t you take a break? The manual will still be here later, and you can fry your brain trying to become an engineer then. But I just found another box of records to sort through. New releases that arrived at the station before everything went to shit.”

You smiled as you took a half step closer. Steve took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you against his side.

“Fine, fine. I’ll help you with the music library,” Your tone full of playful mirth, though you were content to spend some time together. It had been hard to just have some quality time as a couple before all the craziness took over. 

Both of you stood at the table, sorting through a cardboard box to alphabetize the new singles. Prince, Bowie, Tiffany – new additions to the extensive catalog. Steve picked out one of the records at random, pulling George Michael’s Faith. 

“Oh, is that your new fave?” You asked, with a warm smile, at his pleased expression. 

His smile morphed into confusion. “Um, no? You love George Michael.”

“No, I love Wham!” You corrected him, moving your attention to the actual task. 

While you thumbed through the records, Steve set the single aside. One large hand settled on his hip, perplexed and brow pinched, “Same thing. You like George Michael.”

“Totally not the same thing,” You scoffed at his lack of discernment between the two, “George Michael is great, and I love that single, but I still prefer Wham! I think George is finding his sound outside of what the band was.”

“Jesus, you sound like Eddie when he corrects me on Black Zeppelin,” Steve sighed, dragging a hand over his face in exasperation. 

“I think you’re trying to say Black Sabbath,” you cringed a little at his lack of musical knowledge, but at least your boyfriend would agree to listen to anything once. Your eyes danced over his confused expression, “Why do you think George Michael is my favorite artist?”

“Um… Dustin mentioned you and your mom listening to it to cheer up, and you’ve asked Robin to queue it a few times. So I made note that this was your favorite song,” Steve explained, attempting not to sound like the worried boyfriend he was, “Y’know, just in case.”

Neither of you needed to elaborate — you both knew what ‘just in case’ meant. Steve beat himself up every day about Max, and he was determined to keep you and everyone else in the party from the same fate. 

You gave him a sympathetic smile, stepping closer to his side, “That’s really sweet, y’know.”

Steve bashfully shook his head, moving his hand to rub soothing circles against your upper back, “Figured you’d do the same for me.”

“Oh, of course. I don’t think your Tears for Fears cassette has seen the light of day since you first put it in your car,” You affectionately teased him, not wanting to burst his bubble just yet. 

“Haha, yeah, you’ve got me figured out,” He hummed, taking a moment to simply admire you in the moment. Steve tucked your hair behind your ear. “So what is your favorite song?”

Your eyes drifted back over the singles, knowing that you wouldn’t find it there. Because your favorite song wasn’t the latest hit from this summer or even last. Music had a way of sticking with you, even if the rest of the world changed. Your eyes trailed back up to meet Steve’s, giving him a gentle smile before pressing a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Thank you, but if that’s an avoidant tactic, it’s not gonna work,” Steve hummed, tugging you half an inch closer by your belt loop, “Tell me. I won’t laugh – promise. Mike likes The Butthole Surfers, so I don’t think it gets much worse than that.”

After mulling it over a moment longer, you admitted with an exasperated sigh, “Well… my favorite song is Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper.”

Steve blinked, not completely shocked but a little stunned at the information, “That cheesy ballad we danced to at Prom?”

“Cyndi Lauper is not cheesy,” You swiftly corrected him with a glare, “And… yes, it is.”

His signature smirk stretched across his lips, “You are such a sap. I can’t even believe it. Time After Time? Really?”

“Really,” you nodded, exasperated by his need for explanation, “It was just… We had just started kind of dating, and you were there. Not just my rom date, but my boyfriend who went dress shopping with me and bought a matching tie and sneaking a flask of your dad’s liquor — it was the perfect night. And then you won Prom King and refused to dance with Tammy Thompson, even though she rightfully won Prom Queen.”

“Because why dance with Tammy Thompson when I’ve got you,” Steve chuckled, reaching to intertwine your fingers, “I stopped caring about winning Prom King after the demodogs. Was shocked I was still nominated.”

“You’re still Steve Harrington, need I remind you?” You teased him, recalling a version of Steve you hadn’t known in a long time now.

“Sure, sure. I’m Steve Harrington to Hawkins,” His brown eyes held intense focus on your own, “But I’m happy here just being your Steve. Which makes us both saps, I guess.”

“You’ve always been a sap,” Your lips twisted into a loving smile before pressing a kiss to his cheek, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Steve nodded in agreement, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”