Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader
Summary: You feel replaced by Steve’s new girlfriend but it’s your own fault for not admitting your feelings for him. Weeks of silence has you both facing the music.
The summer air was thick and warm on the roof of WSQK, carrying the scent of the distant rain. You sat cross legged on the roof, shoulder pressed against the low wall that edges the building, watching the sun sink into Hawkins. Robin sprawled on the floor beside you, one arm thrown over her eyes, rambling about some girl she can't stop thinking about. Nancy sat with her legs tucked to one side next to you, Jonathan's jacket draped over her shoulders even though it's not cold. Him next to her, camera resting in his lap, occasionally lifting it to capture the sunset or Robin's animated gestures.
And Steve. Steve leant against the opposite wall, ankles crossed, that easy smile on his face that became familiar to you. He wore that stupid yellow sweater you once told him made him look your dad, and he just laughed and worn it every week since just to annoy you. His hair doing that thing where it falls just slightly into his eyes, and you have to physically stop yourself from reaching over to brush it back like you had done a hundred times before.
"I'm just saying" Robin continued, finally sitting up and gesturing wildly enough that she nearly knocked over the bag of chips between you, "Honestly, I'm going to lose it if not. But it's better than Family Video. I thought I'd be there forever with this idiot" she jerks her thumb at Steve.
"Hey" Steve protests, but he's grinning, "You loved working with me!"
"I tolerated working with you. There's a difference"
"You brought me a doughnut or whatever most mornings we worked together!"
"That was poisoned. You just haven't died yet"
"What, all these years later?"
You laugh, and it feels good, normal, like maybe you can pretend that everything is exactly as it should be. Like maybe you can ignore the way your heart does that stupid flutter thing every time Steve looks at you. Like maybe you can forget that you've been in love with him for so long you can't remember what it felt like not to be.
It's been years. Years of fighting interdimensional monsters and Russian spies and things that should have killed you all a dozen times over. Years of Steve showing up at your door at three in the morning because he had a nightmare and you're the only one who can talk him down. Years of you calling him when the memories get too loud and he drives over without question, climbs through your window, and holds you until the shaking stops.
Years of almost moments. His hand lingering on your shoulder before a fight. The way he always positions himself between you and danger. That time in the Upside Down when you thought you were going to die and you'd grabbed his face and almost kissed him, but you never did. Because what if you were wrong? What if you said something and it ruined everything? What if you lost him, not to demogorgons or Mind Flayers, but to your own stupid feelings? So you stayed quiet, and so did he.
"So what about you, Steve?" Nancy asks, and there's something careful in her voice that makes you look up. "Any big plans now that the kids have graduated? You've been pretty quiet about the future".
Steve shifts, and for a moment something flickers across his face, nervousness maybe, or uncertainty, you can't tell. He glances at you, just for a second, and your heart does that thing again.
"Actually" he says, and his voice is different now, lighter somehow, like he's trying too hard to sound casual. "I've been meaning to tell you guys something".
Robin sits up straighter, Jonathan lowers his camera, Nancy's eyes sharpen, and you don't move. You're not sure you're breathing.
"I've, uh" Steve runs a hand through his hair, and you know that gesture, know it means he's nervous about something. "I've been seeing someone. For a few weeks now. Also going to stick to the teaching, I actually really enjoy it. Sex Ed isn't all that bad".
The world doesn't stop. That's the thing they don't tell you about heartbreak, the world keeps going. Your heart keeps beating even though it feels like it shouldn't.
"Wait, what?" Robin says, and she sounds genuinely shocked, "Since when do you not tell me things?".
"Since I wanted to make sure it was, you know, actually something before I said anything" Steve is still doing that thing with his hair. He's not looking at you. Why isn't he looking at you? He always looks at you.
"Who is she?" Nancy asks, and you can hear the surprise in her voice too.
"Her name's Amanda. She works at the library. Sister to one of the kids I coach. We've been talking for a while and-" But you're not really hearing the details anymore, it fading out because everyone is looking at you. Not obviously, not all at once, but Robin's eyes slide to you with something of concern. Even Jonathan, sweet oblivious Jonathan, looks between you and Steve with sudden understanding of what's happening.
They all knew. Of course they all knew. Everyone knew except apparently Steve, or maybe he knew too and this is his answer, this is him telling you in the kindest way he can that whatever you thought was between you, it wasn't real.
"That's great" you hear yourself say, and your voice sounds normal. How does your voice sound normal? "That's really great, Steve".
He finally looks at you then, and there's something in his eyes you can't read, "Yeah?"
"Yeah" You smile, you think. Your face is doing something.
The conversation moves on. Robin makes a joke about Steve finally finding someone willing to put up with him after all this time. Nancy asks questions about Amanda, about what's she like, how'd they meet, has he brought her around yet? Jonathan takes a picture of all of you, and you wonder if the camera can capture the way your chest is caving in.
You stayed for another hour because leaving early would be obvious something was wrong, admitting something you can't admit. So you laugh at the right times, you contribute to the conversation. You are completely and utterly fine.
When it's finally time to go, Steve offers to drive you home like he always does. You almost say no and you should say no. "Sure" you say instead.
The BMW smells like it always does. Steve's cologne and the pine air freshener that never quite covers the smell of old coffee and the faint mustiness of the Upside Down that none of you can ever quite wash away. You've been in this car a thousand times.
You know the way the passenger seat squeaks when you shift your weight. You know there's a cigarette burn on the dashboard from when Robin was trying to light a sparkler and nearly set the whole car on fire. You know the radio is broken and stuck on the classic rock station, and Steve pretends to hate it but you've caught him singing along to Journey more times than you can count. You know this car like you know your own bedroom, like you know the scar on Steve's jaw from that fight with Billy, or like you know the sound of his laugh when it's real and not just polite. But tonight it feels like a stranger's car and you've never been here before.
Steve pulls out of the parking lot, and the silence sits between you like something physical Usually, you'd be talking about the kids, about work, about nothing and everything. Usually Steve would be telling you some ridiculous old story about a customer at Family Video, doing all the voices, making you laugh so hard you can't breathe. Tonight, the only sound is the engine and the radio.
You stare out the window as Hawkins passes by in familiarity. The video store, the diner where you've shared countless milkshakes, the park where everyone gathered after everything ended and tried to figure out how to be normal again.
"So" Steve says finally, and his voice is too loud in the quiet, "You okay? You've not spoke a lot tonight".
"Fine" The word comes out clipped. You try again, "Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?".
"I don't know, you just seem-"
"I'm happy for you, Steve" You turn to look at him, forcing your expression into something that might pass for genuine. "Really. You deserve this".
He glances at you, then back at the road as his hands tighten on the steering wheel, "Yeah. Thanks" All followed by more silence.
You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to grab him by his stupid yellow sweater, shake him and ask him how he could do this, how he could look at you the way he does, be there for you the way he is and then just be with someone else. But you don't have that right. You never said anything. You never gave him a reason to wait.
"She sounds nice" you offer to him, even though he's barely told you anything about her.
"She is" Steve's voice is soft.
The silence returns again, heavier now. You're almost grateful when he finally pulls up to your house. The porch light is on, your mom always leaves it on, even though you've told her a hundred times you're not a kid anymore and the fact you've faced things in the dark that would give her nightmares for years. Steve puts the car in park but doesn't turn off the engine. Usually, he'd come in, you'd sit in the living room or bedoom and talk for another hour or two, until your mom yells at you both to get some sleep.
"I'll see you tomorrow? We're still on for the drive-in, right?"
The drive-in. You'd forgotten. Your weekly tradition, sitting in his car, helping him grade papers, sharing popcorn, talking through the movie you're not really watching. It's your favorite night of the week. It's the closest thing you have to what you'll never have.
"Right" you say. "Yeah. Tomorrow".
"Cool" He smiles at you, and it's that soft smile, the real one, the one that makes your chest ache, "Usual time?".
You get out of the car and you walk to your door. You don't look back because if you look back, you might do something stupid like cry, and you can't cry, you have no right to cry, hearing him drive away as you're unlocking the door.
Inside, your house is quiet, parents already asleep. You climb the stairs to your room, close your door, lock it, walk to your bed and sit down. And then, finally, you let yourself feel it. The hurt crashing over you in waves. You press your hands to your face and try to breathe through it, but it's too much. You've been holding this in for years, every almost kiss, every lingering touch, every time he looked at you like you were the only person in the world and now it has nowhere to go. He's seeing someone. Steve is seeing someone, and it's not you.
You laid back in bed, staring at your ceiling. Looking at the glow in the dark stars you put up when you were twelve and never took down. You and Steve used to lie here and make up constellations, stupid ones with names. Your phone doesn't ring, you don't know why you thought it would. You don't sleep, you just lie there and watch the stars fade as the sun comes up, and try to figure out how you're supposed to go back to normal when normal just became impossible.
The next evening, you stand in front of your mirror and tell yourself you're being ridiculous.
It's just the drive-in. You've done this a hundred times before, there's no reason to be nervous, no reason to spend nearly an hour trying to figure out what to wear, or change your shirt three times before settling on the first one. It's not a date, it's never been a date, and now it definitely never will be.
You're wearing jeans and Steve's old Hawkins High sweatshirt that he left at your house months ago and never asked for back. It's too big on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but it smells like him still, that cologne and something that is just, him.
At 6:50, you sit on your porch steps, a bag of the good popcorn you made on the stove beside you, trying not to think about how everything has changed in 24 hours.
7pm comes. Steve doesn't.
At 7:05, you tell yourself he's just running late. He's always running late. It's one of his things, Steve Harrington cannot be on time to save his life. You've given him so much shit about it over the years.
At 7:15, you start to worry. You check your watch again, even though you've checked it three times in the last two minutes. Maybe he forgot? No, he wouldn't forget. This is your thing.
At 7:30, you go inside and call his house. The phone rings and rings and rings but no answer. So you call Robin, "Hey, is Steve with you?".
"Steve?" Robin sounds confused. "No, he was like three hours ago. Said he had plans with you tonight".
"Right. Yeah. Must have just missed him, thanks" and you hang up before she can ask questions.
At 7:45, you call his house again but still no answer.
The movie starts at 8pm sharp. You know that because you checked the newspaper this morning and circled the time even know it always starts at 8pm.
At 8:00, you're still sitting on your porch steps with cold popcorn that's probably going stale, a dark sky and a tight chest.
At 8:15, you go back inside and try his house again, again and again, but still no answer.
At 8:30, you accept that he's not coming, the movie had already started.
Having had enough, you lay in bed and stare at the phone on your nightstand, like if you look at it hard enough it'll ring. Maybe he'll call and explain he's had car trouble, something that makes sense for him leaving you sat on your front porch for almost 2 hours, but the phone doesn't ring.
Your mind is filled, and not in a good way. You think about last night, and how everyone looked at you. Steve's face when he said he was seeing someone. The silent car journey home with him.
About the fact that he's been distant lately, hasn't he? The last few months, he's been...different. Cancelling plans more often, taking longer to return your calls, that time two weeks ago when you needed him and he said he couldn't come over, he was busy, maybe tomorrow? Then still didn't come the next day.
You'd thought it was just life. Everyone getting older, moving on, growing up, getting more busy, but it wasn't that at all. It was her. He was with her. And tonight, he's probably with her instead of you.
You don't cry. You're too angry to cry. You're angry at him for not showing up, for not calling, for choosing her over you without even having the decency to tell you. You're angry at yourself for caring, letting it hurt, and for spending years building up hope when you should have known better. You're angry at the universe for putting you through literal hell, for letting you survive monsters and Russians and the end of the world, only to break you with something as stupid and human as love. The phone still doesn't ring in the hours you stayed awake after. You fall asleep in his sweatshirt, still waiting.
The next day you wake up to sun streaming through your window and the immediate, crushing memory of last night. He didn't come. He didn't call. You scramble out of bed and go downstairs, the smell of pancakes being made in the kitchen, your mom humming along to the radio, the normalcy of it makes you want to scream.
"Morning honey" she says brightly, "How was the movie with Steve?"
You can't eat. You push the pancakes around your plate until your mom stops watching, then scrape them into the trash. You spend the morning in your room, trying to read, trying to distract yourself, just anything, but by lunch time, you breakdown and call Robin.
"Hey" she says, and you can hear the smile in her voice, "What's up?"
"Have you talked to Steve today?"
"Steve? No, why? Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, fine. Just wondering"
"Did something happen? You sound weird”
"I'm not weird. Everything's fine"
"Okay, now I know something's wrong. You're using your everything's fine voice. What did Steve do now?"
"Nothing. He didn't do anything"
"So he did do something?"
You close your eyes, "Robin, I have to go"
"Wait-" but you've already hung up.
At 2:00, you're pacing your room. You should just go over there, you should drive to his house and demand to know what happened, why he didn't show up, but what if she's there? What if you show up and she's there, and you have to see them together.
At 3:30, there's a knock on your door. Your heart leaps. You take the stairs two at a time, nearly tripping over your own feet, and throw open the door. Steve is standing on your porch, hands in his pockets, looking tired and so casually beautiful it makes you want to hit him.
"Hey!" he says, like nothing is wrong, like he didn't stand you up last night. "Can I borrow your dad's toolkit? I can't find mine".
He shifts his weight, "I figured you'd be better to ask than buy new to probably never use them again".
"Are you serious right now?" Your voice comes out flat.
"You're asking to borrow tools?"
"Yeah? Is that... is that not okay?"
Something inside you snaps, "Where were you last night?"
He even has the audacity to look confused, "Last night?"
"The drive-in, Steve. We had plans. You were supposed to pick me up at seven"
Understanding and guilt wipes across his face, "Oh shit. Oh shit, I completely-"
"You forgot" You laugh, and it sounds bitter even to your own ears, "You forgot".
"I'm so sorry, I got caught up with-"
He stops. His jaw tightens, "Yeah. That's not fair"
"Not fair?" Your voice risen and you don't care, let the neighbors hear, "You stood me up, Steve. You didn't show up, you didn't call, and now you're on my porch asking to borrow shit?"
"I said I'm sorry! I lost track of time, it happens!"
"It happens? This isn't the first time!" And suddenly you're yelling, months of frustration pouring out. "You've been doing this for weeks, Steve. Cancelling plans, not showing up, being too busy. I needed you two weeks ago and you couldn't be bothered-"
"You had her going on!" You're shaking now. "That's when it started, isn't it? Two, three months ago? That's when you started seeing her, and suddenly you don't have time for me anymore?"
"That's not-" He runs his hand through his hair, frustrated, "You're being ridiculous".
"I'm being ridiculous? I waited for you out here for almost 2 hours! I called you six times! And you couldn't even be bothered to pick up the phone and tell me you weren't coming!"
"I forgot, okay? Jesus, I'm allowed to forget things!"
"Not this!" Your voice cracks. "Not us. Not our-" You can't finish the sentence. What are you supposed to call it? Your tradition? Your not dates? Your pathetic weekly ritual where you pretend that sitting in his car sharing popcorn means something more than it does?
Steve's face is flushed now, his own anger rising to meet yours. "What do you want from me? You want me to apologise? Fine. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I forgot, I'm sorry I didn't call, I'm sorry I have a life outside of-"
"Outside of what? Outside of me?"
"You didn't have to!" Tears running down your face that you swipe away furiously. "You've made it pretty clear where I rank in your priorities. And that's fine, Steve. That's totally fine. You have a girlfriend now, I get it. I just wish you'd had the decency to tell me that our friendship was going to become an afterthought!"
"You're not an afterthought!" He's yelling too now, stepping closer. "You're being, god, why are you making such a big deal out of this?"
"Because it matters to me!" The words rip out of you. "Because you matter to me, and apparently I don't matter enough to you for you to even remember that we had plans!"
"Of course you matter to me! You're one of my best friends!"
"Then act like it!" You're sobbing now, and you hate it, hate that you're falling apart in front of him. "Act like I'm someone who matters! Act like our friendship is worth more than whatever time you have left over after you're done with her!"
"This is about me having a girlfriend"
"This is about you abandoning me!"
"I'm not abandoning you!”
"Then what do you call this?" You gesture between you, at the space. "What do you call the last three months? Because from where I'm standing, it looks a lot like you found someone better and decided I wasn't worth the effort anymore!"
"That's not-" He stops and takes a breath. "You know what? Maybe I have been busy. Maybe I have been spending more time with Amanda because she doesn't make me feel guilty for having a life. She doesn't act like I owe her every second of my time. She doesn't-"
"She doesn't what? Cause hell I bet she doesn't love you like I do" The words are out before you can stop them and the silence that follows is deafening. Steve just stares at you and you stare back, chest heaving, tears streaming down your face, and you can't take it back.
"What?" His voice is barely a whisper.
You laugh, broken and bitter, "Don't act surprised, Steve. Everyone knows. Robin knows. Nancy knows. Hell, even Jonathan knows, and he's the most oblivious person on the planet. Everyone knows except apparently you".
"You-" He looks like you've punched him. "You love me?"
"Of course I love you!" You're shouting again, past the point of caring. "I've loved you for years! I've loved you through every stupid thing, every fight, every time we almost died. I've loved you through all of it, and I never said anything because I was terrified of ruining what we had. And now-" Your voice breaks. "Now it doesn't matter".
Steve just stands there, frozen, and you can't look at him anymore. Can't stand the shock on his face with the pity that's probably coming next.
"I waited for you" you say quietly. "After everything ended, after we finally had time to breathe, to be normal, I waited for you to say something. I thought maybe, finally, we could-" You shake your head. "But you didn't. And that's fine. That's your choice. But then you didn't even have the decency to let me down easy. You just... moved on. Like I was nothing, like we were nothing".
"That's not-" His voice rough, "You're not nothing".
"Then why does it feel like I am?" You wipe your face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt, his sweatshirt that you're still wearing like an idiot. "Why does it feel like I lost you without ever really having you?".
Steve reaches for you, and you step back
"Don't. Just go grab the tools and go"
He doesn't have an answer for that. You wait, giving him one more chance to say something, anything that might make this hurt less but he just stands there, looking lost and confused. "Go home, Steve" You're so tired. Tired of hurting, tired of hoping, tired of loving someone who doesn't love you back, "Go home to your girlfriend. I'm sure she's waiting".
"There's nothing left to talk about" You start to close the door, then pause. "And for the record? I'm happy for you. I really am. I hope she makes you happy. I hope she's everything you want".
I hope she's everything I couldn't be.
You don't say that last part out loud. You just close the door in his face and lean against it, listening to the sound of him standing there, waiting for him to knock, to call your name, to fight for you the way you've been fighting for him for years. He doesn't. After a long moment, you hear his footsteps on the porch followed by the sound of his car door opening, closing, the engine starting and him driving away.
You slide down the door until you're sitting on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, and finally, breaking.
The next few weeks are a special kind of torture.
You don't talk to Steve. He doesn't call, and you don't reach out, and the silence between you grows. You see him though, Hawkins is too small not to. You see him at Family Video when you go in with Robin, you're getting a sleepover movie and he's obviously getting something for him and Amanda, and he looks up when the bell chimes and his eyes find yours and you both look away at the same time. You see him at the grocery store, and he's in the cereal aisle, and you turn your cart around and go a different way.
You see him at the diner with her. That's the worst one. You're there with Robin, trying to pretend everything is normal, trying to laugh at her jokes and eat your food and be a good friend, and then the bell above the door chimes and Steve walks in with a girl who must be Amanda.
She's pretty. Of course she's pretty. Blonde hair, bright smile, the kind of effortless beauty that makes you feel small and plain in comparison. She's laughing at something Steve said, her hand on his arm, and he's looking at her the way you always wished he'd look at you. Robin follows your gaze and immediately starts talking louder, trying to distract you, but it's too late. You've already seen it. You watch them slide into a booth on the other side of the diner. Watch Steve drape his arm across the back of the seat. Watch her lean into him. Watch him be happy with someone who isn't you.
"We can go" Robin says quietly, "We can leave right now"
"No" Your voice sounds far away. "It's fine. I'm fine”
You stay for another 20 minutes, forcing down food, and you don't look at them again. When you finally leave, you walk past their booth and Steve looks up and your eyes meet for just a second. He looks guilty. You look away.
Outside, Robin hugs you without saying anything, you let her, and you don't cry because you're so tired of crying. The kids notice something's wrong too. Dustin calls and asks why Steve isn't coming to the final movie nights before college anymore. Lucas mentions that Steve seemed off in town the other day. Even Mike asks if you and Steve had a fight.
"We're fine" you tell them all, "He's just busy now". They don't believe you, but they stop asking.
Nancy corners you one day. You're in the library, the same library where Amanda works, though thankfully she's not on shift today.
"You need to talk to him" she says.
"I don't need to do anything"
"He has a girlfriend. He's not miserable"
"Have you seen him lately? Really looked at him?" Nancy crosses her arms. "He's a mess. He's been a mess since your fight”
You slam a book back onto the shelf harder than necessary. "What do you want me to say, Nancy? That I'm in love with him? I already did that. That I want him to choose me? I can't ask him to do that. He's with someone else. He made his choice"
"Did he?" Nancy's voice is gentle. "Or did he panic and make a mistake?"
"It doesn't matter" You grab another book, not looking at her. "Even if he did, even if he wanted to fix things, it's too late. We said things we can't take back. I said things-" Your voice catches. "I can't go back to being his friend and pretending I don't feel this way. And he can't give me what I want. So there's nowhere left to go"
Nancy is quiet for a moment, "For what it's worth, I think you're both idiots"
Despite everything, you almost smile, "Yeah. Probably" She squeezes your shoulder and leaves you alone with the books and the silence.
That night, you're lying in bed, staring at your ceiling stars, when your phone rings. Your heart leaps and you grab it without thinking, "Hello?"
"Hey" It's Robin. "Just calling to check in. You okay?"
The disappointment is clear in your voice, you hoped it to be him, "Yeah. Fine"
"He asked about you today”
You close your eyes, "Don't"
"He wanted to know if you were okay. If you were eating. If you were sleeping"
"I know" Robin sighs. "I know. I just, I hate this. I hate seeing you both like this"
"Yeah, well" You pull the blanket up to your chin. "Sometimes things don't work out the way we want them to"
"That's a depressing thought"
"It's a realistic thought"
You talk for a while longer, about nothing important, and when you finally hang up, you feel marginally less alone.
The weeks crawl by. You develop a routine of work, home, avoid anywhere Steve might be. You spend time with Robin and Nancy, you help the kids with final college bits. You exist. And then, on a random Tuesday night when you're in your pyjamas eating ice cream straight from the tub and watching a movie you're not really paying attention to, there's a knock on your door. You almost don't answer it. It's late, and you look like a mess, and you're not in the mood for company but something makes you get up and open it
Steve is standing on your porch.
He looks terrible. His hair is a mess, not in the artfully styled way but in the I've been running my hands through it for hours way. His eyes are red, he's wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt, and he looks like he hasn't slept in days.
You should close the door and tell him to leave. You should protect yourself from whatever new way he's about to hurt you. "Hi" you say instead.
"Can I?" He gestures vaguely, "Can I come in?"
You step aside and let him in. Why, you don't know.
He walks into your living room like he's done a thousand times before, but everything is different now. He doesn't sit down. He just stands there, hands in his pockets, looking lost. "Are your parents in?"
"I broke up with Amanda" he says finally with a sigh.
Your heart stops, "What?"
"I broke up with her. Tonight. Like an hour ago" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "She took it pretty well, actually. I think she knew".
You don't know what to say or do. You're still holding the tub of ice cream, it's starting to melt, and Steve is in your living room telling you he broke up with his girlfriend, and you can't process any of it.
"Why?" The word comes out barely a whisper.
Steve finally looks at you, really looks at you, and his eyes are so full of pain. "Because I couldn't stop thinking about you" he says. "Because every time I was with her, I wished I was with you. Because she'd be talking and I'd be thinking about something funny you said last week. Because she'd laugh and it would be the wrong laugh. Because-" He takes a shaky breath. "Because I'm in love with you, and I have been for so long that I don't remember what it felt like not to be, and I'm an idiot for not realising it sooner".
The ice cream container slips from your hand and hits the floor. Neither of you move to pick it up. "You-" You can't finish the sentence.
"I'm in love with you" he says again, stepping closer. "I've been in love with you through every fight, every monster, every time we almost died. I've been in love with you every time you fell asleep on my shoulder during movie night. Every time you laughed at my stupid jokes. Every time you looked at me like I was someone worth saving".
"I know I fucked up" His voice breaks. "I know I hurt you. I was scared, and I panicked, and I thought if I was with someone else, I could stop feeling this way. But I can't. I can't stop loving you. I don't want to stop loving you".
You're crying now, tears streaming down your face, "You stood me up Steve. You forgot about me".
"I didn't forget. I could never forget you. I was just, I was trying so hard to convince myself that I could be happy with someone else that I-" He runs his hand through his hair. "There's no excuse. I was an asshole. I hurt you, and I'm so sorry".
"You told me I was being ridiculous"
"You weren't. You were right. About all of it" He's close enough to touch now, but he doesn't reach for you. "I did abandon you. I did make you an afterthought and you deserved so much better than that. You deserve so much better than me".
"Don't" Your voice raised. "Don't you dare say that".
"It's not" You wipe your face angrily "You're not perfect, Steve Harrington. You're impulsive and reckless and you have terrible taste in movies but you're also brave and kind and you've saved my life more times than I can count. You're my best friend. You're-" Your voice breaks. "You're everything to me".
"You're everything to me too. You're everything, and I'm so sorry it took me this long to figure it out. I'm sorry I wasted so much time being scared. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry-"
You kiss him. You don't think about it, don't plan it, you just close the distance between you and kiss him the way you've wanted to kiss him for years. For a second, he freezes before his hands come up to cup your face and he's kissing you back, desperate and hungry and like he's been waiting for this just as long as you have.
You break apart, both breathing hard, and his forehead rests against yours. "I love you" you whisper, "I've loved you for so long".
"I love you too" His thumb brushes across your cheek, wiping away tears. "I'm sorry I made you wait. I'm sorry I made you doubt it".
"I'm here now" he agrees "If you'll have me. If you can forgive me".
You pull back enough to look at him, really look at him. At the boy who's fought monsters by your side, held you through nightmares, made you laugh when you thought you'd never laugh again. Someone who's broken your heart and is now offering to spend however long it takes putting it back together.
"I forgive you" you say. "But Steve?"
"If you ever stand me up again, I'm going to let Dustin explain so much of his D&D and nerdy shit to you that you'll regret ever crossing me"
He laughs and pulls you close, "That's completely understandable".
You stand there in your living room, wrapped in each other's arms, ice cream melting all over the floor, and for the first time in weeks, you feel like you can breathe.
"So" Steve says after a while. "What now?"
You pull back to look at him, "What do you mean?"
"I mean-" He looks nervous again. "Are we, is this, what are we doing here?"
And that's the question, isn't it? You've both said the words. You've both admitted what you feel. But what comes next? You think about the last few weeks. The pain, the heartbreak, the jealousy. You think about how much it hurt to lose him, even when you never really had him. You think about how much it would hurt to lose him again.
"I don't know" you say honestly. "I don't know what we're doing. I just know that I love you, and you love me, and that's, that's enough for right now. Isn't it?"
Steve's smile is hopeful, "Yeah. Yeah, that's enough". He kisses you again, slower this time, and it feels like a promise. Not of forever, you've both learned that forever isn't guaranteed but a promise of right now, of figuring it out together.
When you finally pull apart, Steve looks down at the melted ice cream on your floor, "I should probably help you clean that up".
"In a minute" Steve says.
You stand there in the wreckage of what you were and the uncertainty of what you're becoming, and you hold each other. You let yourself hope because maybe that's all you need right now. Hope, and love, and the promise that whatever comes next, you'll face it together.
Later, after the ice cream is cleaned up and you're sitting on the couch together, Steve's arm around your shoulders, your head on his chest, he says "I really am sorry. About all of it"
"I want to make it up to you"
"I want to" He tilts your chin up so you're looking at him, "Let me take you out. A real date. Dinner, movie, the whole thing. Let me do this right"
Your heart swells, "Okay"
"Yeah" You smile, "But Steve?"
He laughs and pulls you closer, "I won't. I promise. I'm never forgetting anything about you ever again"
It's a big promise, maybe too big but as you sit there in his arms, feeling safe and loved, you think maybe, just maybe, he means it and maybe that's enough.
stormborns
pixelskylines
kianamaiart
annaxmalina
dededos
germansingergirl
blakekathryn
baratheonpilled
