The Words That Matter Always Stay

He likes how he feels with you. Likes the way you look at him with love shining in your eyes. Loves the way that he doesn’t need to guess where he stands with you. Loves that there is only him to have been able to receive all the love you have to give, just so he can give it all back to you and then some. He loves how you wear your heart on your sleeve. Because he doesn’t have to speculate how you feel about him, doesn’t get left in the dark. And he likes to think of the heart on your sleeve as his own, whole and beating.

Because, the truth is… Steve isn’t a nice person. Not always. Just that he tries to be. He isn’t a happy person either. It’s hard to be either, to be honest.

But you don’t care.

And so he’s carefully removed all the other versions of himself, even the carefully crafted ones, and settles into the one he really is. The one who is maybe a little more needy than he’d like to be.

The Steve who is learning to explain what he needs and wants instead of focusing on what he can give just to convince someone to stay.

The most important thing that Steve has learned about himself, however, is that now that he’s in a loving and secure relationship, he’s feeling a lot more confident about being Steve. The real one. Like maybe… he wants to start figuring things out now. Because maybe he isn’t so scared to try now that he knows there’s someone who’s going to be there for when it doesn’t pan out.

And if you can love him through the Family Video employee version of Steve, he thinks you’ll love him through anything.

He loves you just as much, if not maybe a little more.

Or at least enough to make through this weird double-date situation that you and Nancy had somehow put together at the last minute together. As if the two of you are friends now. And like you didn’t just spend the night teasing the shit out of him.

But sometimes, you smile these little smiles, the little Steve smile, the one that you have just for him and he just melts and lets you do whatever the hell you fucking want. Like pushing him into a booth to have burgers and fries with Jonathan Byers.

Look, it’s not that there’s anything wrong with Byers. He’s a decent dude. But aside from shared traumatic events and the tiny town of Hawkins and its inhabitants, there isn’t really anything to tie the two of them together.

And yet here Steve is, sitting across the table from Jonathan Byers like this is normal.

But he looks at you, sees how you glow as you speak with Nancy about summer plans and he thinks he might hear the words barbecue and pool being tossed around at some point, watches as your fingers think they’re being stealthily as they lift a fry from his basket and slide it between the lips he’d rather have on his own. He likes seeing you swimming in his tuxedo jacket, likes seeing you in any of his clothes, really. He especially likes it when your hand drops down to his thigh, absentmindedly massaging your fingers into his flesh.

He thinks he can live through this kind of torture.

And then you and Nancy head to the restroom (because girls have to go together all the time for some weird reason) leaving him behind with Jonathan.

Jonathan looks just as uncomfortable as Steve feels so Steve tries to smile at the other guy/former love rival though he thinks it may have come off as a grimace.

Jonathan doesn’t seem to mind though as he folds his paper napkin into what might be a boat.

“She’s cool,” Jonathan says, finally breaking the ice after giving up on his sad little origami project. “I was surprised when Nancy told me the two of you got together but now that I see you as a couple, I think I get it.”

“She’s awesome,” Steve corrects. “And yeah, the whole ‘making sense’ thing is overrated, I think.”

“I get it. No one ever thought Nancy and me made sense either. But… love, you know.”

Steve nods, unsure of what to say next because despite having killed interdimensional creatures and overlords alongside Jonathan, they really don’t have much to talk about.

He figures, honesty might be his best bet.

“Listen,” Steve folds his hands together on the table, “You probably have plans with Nancy for after this, because I know that I have… plans, with my girlfriend for after this. So what do you say, we get things on the road. Let’s grab the check so we can head out?”

Jonathan agrees immediately and Steve and him both push themselves out of the booth to the register to pay for their orders. Once the girls come out of the bathroom, Jonathan quickly tells Nancy that there’s something he’s been wanting to show her and leads her out of the diner with a helpless Nancy, who is only able to wave goodbye.

“He’s really effective when he puts his mind to it,” Steve mutters.

He grins down at you and proffers his arm. “Shall we head out?”

“You totally convinced Jonathan to leave, didn’t you?”

Steve chuckles before pressing a kiss on your lips and it’s all too brief but still always sweet.

“Believe me, he really didn’t take much convincing, sweetheart.”

…

Steve thinks he might seriously be done with you.

Despite his better efforts to try to reserve his plans for where his very comfortable bed is, he cannot quite seem to convince you to keep your hands off him. Which, technically, when he really thinks about it (and of course, he thinks about it and you quite a lot) there is nothing wrong with your girlfriend giving you a handjob while in the car.

But he’s trying to keep his eyes the road and it would be really beneficial to maybe not get pulled over by the cops because it is very difficult to concentrate with a girlfriend who seems dead set on breaking it. And when he feels your thumb swipe the sensitive tip of his erection, of course he’s going to swerve a little.

“Let’s try not to end up in a ditch!” you laugh and he would strangle you, really, but he loves you entirely too much for that.

So he plots his own revenge, because there’s no way he’s going to let you make him cum with at least giving you an orgasm first.

And he thinks that he’s ahead of the game when he has you leaning against the front door of the house, panting and needy from his kisses. But when he trails his fingers up your thigh, past that lace trim of your stockings that have been torturing him all evening, and encounters the sopping wet flesh of your cunt unhindered by the silk underwear he knew for sure you had on earlier, he thinks he might just cum in his pants.

“Are you fucking kidding me, sweetheart?” He can’t help but groan against your jaw before plunging his fingers inside of you.

He craves the little sounds he pulls from your lips as he thrusts his fingers inside of you. Loves the desperate whimpers and mewls as you roll your hips against his hand to get more friction, more pressure, anything that he can give you.

And he wants to give you everything.

Dropping down to his knees, he lifts your thigh through the slit of your dress and drapes it on his shoulder before he starts swirling his tongue around your engorged clit before sucking it between his lips. He almost smiles when you grind against his face and he loves that your fingers find the curls of his hair, tugging firmly but not enough to hurt.

“Steve,” you moan his name and Steve definitely loves the way you say his name.

He fucks his fingers into you, pumping them into your needy pussy, and when the pads of his fingertips push diligently and repeatedly against that spot that he knows makes you see stars, he’s awarded by you finally coming undone, shuddering deliciously against him as he holds you up with his hand on your hip, your heavy panting echoing through the empty house. He pulls his fingers out, wet and sticky, before he pushes his tongue into you, drinking the rest of you down.

Steve doesn’t think he loves anything more than having the taste of you on his tongue.

He’s painfully hard now and as he stands back up, he needs to take a moment to adjust himself. You looked so fucked out and he knows (absolutely knows without any doubt) that even if tonight only amounts to this… If it turns out that you’re not ready… he’ll be okay with that. Because he knows he’ll stick around forever and at some point you will be.

But for right now, this night, for Steve Harrington, has been perfect.

“I love you,” he tells you, because he needs to say it. These words that he has wanted to exchange with someone for so long. He gets to say them now whenever he feels them ring true and it’s often. “I love you so much.”

Your grin is so big, your eyes almost close all the way and it makes his heart feel just as big.

“I love you, Steven D. Harrington.”

At this point, he’s learned not to argue with you. If you say that that’s his name, then he supposes that makes him Steven D. Harrington.

You shrug his tuxedo jacket off and it lands on the floor by the stairs before you take his hand to lead him up to his bedroom. At the threshold you finally let go and walk into the room by yourself and stop at the foot of his bed before turning back to face him. It’s only then that he realizes you’ve lost your shoes somewhere in the house at some point.

You bite your lip as you stare at him, sultry and wanting. And Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything so beautiful in his life.

But then you reach behind your neck to undo the tiny little buttons that hold your dress in place and Steve frozen in his spot as he watches the top of your dress fall forward, stopping at your waist. His hardon is almost unbearable now but he stops himself from moving forward, not wanting to overwhelm you and just wanting you to feel comfortable to continue taking the lead.

He watches as you unzip the side of your dress and the garment finally pools around your feet. You’re left in just your black lacy garter belt clipped into your matching thigh-highs and Steve thinks that yes, if he dies now, he’ll be dying very very happy.

From where he’s standing, he can still see your pussy wet and glistening.

And fuck.

If something doesn’t happen soon, he’s totally going to bust in his pants.

Which is perfectly fine. If that’s what you want.

Except he doesn’t think that’s what you want because you walk towards him and he thinks that his heart is going to fall out of his chest when you fall to your knees before him.

He stays still as you undo his belt and whip it from the loops of his pants. With a coy smile that he can see from beneath your pretty lashes, you unbutton and unzip his pants. He lets out an involuntary hiss as the pants fall from his hips and brush against his erection straining in his boxers.

Warm fingers trace his abdomen, teasing the edge of his boxers where a dark, damp spot has already formed before you torturously pull them down enough to free his cock from its confines.

“Fuck,” he gasps when he feels your hands on him and he thinks he might die when he feels you lick the underside of his dick because this uncharted territory for both of you now.

Up until this point you have only ever used your hands on him, and he’s been perfectly fine with that. He’ll always be happy with where you’re comfortable. But it seems some renewed sense of confidence has come over you and fuck if he isn’t careful, he just might come all over you too.

His hands come up to grip the sides of the doorway to his room as you swirl your tongue around the leaky tip of his cock. The amount of control he exerts surprises even him as he tries his best to keep himself from fully thrusting into and fucking your mouth.

“So fucking good, sweetheart,” he babbles as you take more of him in. “Your pretty little mouth… So perfect… Fuck! Hang on, baby.”

He steps away from you, holding his hands up before him. “I love you but I… okay, if you keep going, then that’s it. I’m gonna cum in your mouth and if that’s what you want then… That’s cool. I can, um…”

Visions of your perfect little mouth full of his sperm almost makes him cum on the spot and he physically shakes his head. But you’re staring up at him, on your knees with your sexy thighs spread out that he can see the puffy lips of your pussy and—Steve shakes his head again.

“But what I’m trying to say is… Or ask, rather, is how far you wanted to go tonight. Because I’m kinda… I’m pretty close, sweetheart,” he tries to explain.

And all you do is smile at him, the one that’s just for him.

And you could honestly tell him that you just want to go to bed and yeah… he could jack off in the shower if he needs to.

“Sweetheart?” he tries again, a little desperately this time.

You remain silent as you get to your feet and catch his right hand in yours before leading him to the bed. Steve’s pretty sure his heart is going to knock a hole out of his chest by how fast and hard it’s beating, especially when you let go of his hand and settle onto his bed.

Then you part your legs for him and fuck you’re still so wet and sweet looking.

“I think I’m ready,” you tell him softly. “Not think. I know… I love you and I… I’ve been thinking a lot about what you would feel like inside me.”

He groans at your words and quickly unbuttons his shirt before tugging it off completely, leaving him completely nude. Arousal burns through him as you stare at him hungrily.

“I fucking love you, you know that right?” he tells you and he relishes your shy little nod as he settles over your body, fitting in between your thighs, bracing his weight with his arms.

He sucks in his breath sharply when the underside of his erection pushes against your sopping pussy and he swallows the moan that comes out your mouth when he slides his cock against your clit. He does it again reveling in the delicious wetness that you’re leaking, letting it coat his cock, but he knows he needs to stop before he gets too excited.

 Slanting his mouth over yours, Steve presses his fingers into you again, still unbearably wet from earlier and carefully stretches you out as he pushes them in and out of you. He knows he’s hitting that spot in you as you moan into his mouth but your hands come up and press against his chest, pulling your mouth away from his.

“No more teasing,” you gasp. “Just want to feel you inside me.”

“Fuck, sweetheart. Okay, but… um… it might be best to make sure you’re…”

“I’m…?”

This is really something that he should have thought through. Because what words are appropriate?

“Prepared?” Is the word that he finally settles on.

Your forehead scrunches in confusion. “Prepared for sex? I’m on the pill, Harrington.”

Steve takes a deep, shuddering breath as he shifts his weight a little and moves from his forearms to his hands.

“That’s uh, good to know. Really good actually like fuck…” Because truly, he isn’t sure what he’s done in his life to be able to deserve you. “But uh…”

“Shut up and fuck me already, Steve,” you whine, lifting your hips up, desperate for contact.

“I will, baby, but I… I just need to make sure you’re… that you’re…” He’s really struggling here. “That you can handle it,” Steve finally admits, closing his eyes.

“Handle sex?”

“Yes, with me and my… you know.”

“Steve Harrington…”

His eyes fly open at the sound of your giggle.

“Are you talking about your dick?” You ask between laughing. “Oh my god, you’re talking about your huge dick, aren’t you?”

He flushes with embarrassment (although he is a little proud of it too). “I… Okay, not to get too much into it, but I just want to make sure that you’re… ready.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

“Don’t make it sound like a challenge, sweetheart.”

“I’m ready, coach! Put me in! Or rather, put it in me!”

He closes his eyes and sighs. He loves you but he really needs you to stop making jokes when he is painfully hard as it is.

“Okay okay,” you relent. “How about let’s just try to see if your monster cock fits and if we fail, we’ll do it your way?”

A plan is a plan and if he gets to put anything inside of you, he’ll consider it a win.

When he shifts his weight closer to you, he groans at the immediate contact his dick makes against your slick cunt and can’t help but slide against, feeling your arousal coat him liberally and he thinks, this may just work the way you want it to.

When he tilts his hips back and thrusts again, the head of cock catches a little at your opening before pushing against your pulsing clit.

“Fuck,” he hisses as you moan.

No longer willing to wait, having been so unbearably hard for a ridiculous amount of time, he sits back on his legs and takes his erection in his hand, pumping it a few times to spread your wetness around.

“It’s gonna hurt,” Steve warns before pressing the head of his cock against your opening.

Your breathing is shallow now, tiny pants as you raise your hips again. “I understand sex, Steven.”

“Just… you need to tell me if it’s too much.”

“Just fucking put it in me, Harrington!” you yell and Steve obediently pushes in slowly, watching as the blunt head pushes into you and the sight of your cunt gripping his cock makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“You feel…” he tries but words fail him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

He pushes a little bit more, struggling to keep himself from pushing in all the way because the heat of you, the tightness, the slick, just feels too good. Your hands are clutching the bedsheets, twisting them between your fingers, and the way that your forehead is scrunched up, eyes screwed shut as if in pain slashes through some of the pleasure that he’s feeling.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes fly open and land on his. “Yeah, just… Yeah, I’m okay… Can you try moving again?”

Steve nods immediately, but before he pushes in anymore of his length, he places his left hand by your hip, long fingers spanning your abdomen. Staring at you, he licks the pad of his thumb before touching it against your clit, a soft caress at first and he’s a reward with the sudden tilt of your hips, taking in more of him.

“Fuck,” you groan, a sound so glutaral that almost undoes Steve. You pant a few more times before speaking again and Steve’s trying his best not to let his control slip with the way that your pussy is gripping his cock. “What if we just try to like push it in, all the way and I’ll just deal with it.”

Steve doesn’t answer, just nods and concentrates on playing with the throbbing bundle of nerves between your thighs and the sexy moan you release tells him to push in a couple more inches. He’s been hard for so long now that he isn’t sure how long he’s going to last inside you. The feeling of you choking his dick, a tightness he hasn’t felt before, is seriously testing his self-control.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he makes himself ask just to be sure. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

You nod immediately and he can’t help but lean down and capture your lips in a kiss and as your tongue slides against his, he pushes in a little bit more.

Your hands are on his back now, nails raking down his back deliciously and Steve allows himself to thrust a bit more earning a groan from both of you.

Suddenly, you tear your lips away from him and he follows your gaze and it turns towards where the two of you are joined and something like a nervous giggle erupts from your lips. He knows what you’re thinking—how is he still not all the way inside you by now.

So he distracts you, trailing his lips down your neck and down your chest before circling his tongue around your nipple. His fingers find your clit again, sliding against it bringing a soft whine from your lips and he feels you relax a little more under his attention. He takes the moment to push in the rest of his length into you, finally bottoming out.

“Steve…” His name dies on your lips, your chest rising and falling as you take deep breaths. Your eyes are blown out and he grasps the tops of your thighs where they meet your buttocks to push you firmly against him and your legs wrap around him instinctively.

He moans against your skin.

“You’re perfect, sweetheart,” he assures you because you are. You’re better than every single thought he’s had about you whenever he’s fucked his dick into his fist. “You’re taking me so well.”

And he takes that moment to thank whoever said that you could belong to him because he knows he’d be lost without you. But here with you, all he is, is found and seen.

His eyes close blissfully as your hot, wet cunt squeezes around him that he has take a couple of deep breaths to force himself to calm down. It takes him a moment to get to a place where he doesn’t feel like the slightest movement will make him cum. Beads of sweat have begun to form on his skin with the exertion.

“Please, Steve,” you plead and that’s all it takes for him to start moving against you.

The pace starts achingly slow but he needs you to get used to the size of him. But you’re a quick study and it doesn’t take long for you to start rolling your hips against him, looking for more friction. Steve knows he wants to draw this out but he doesn’t know if he can restrain himself long enough to do that, especially when you’re moving against him the way you are.

He pulls out almost all the way and thrusts back in, trying to give you what you want and your response is a pleased sigh and tightening around him. Your nails dig into the flesh of his shoulders and he groans.

“Fuck, sweetheart, so good,” he whispers and he repeats the action, earning another moan from you.

His control slips then and he snaps his hips against yours suddenly, unable to keep from fucking you the way his instincts are telling him to.

“Please,” you beg again. “I just need you…”

The hands on your hips tighten at your words. “Gonna give you what you need, baby,” he promises, voice rough with desire. “You’re doing so good.”

He begins fucking his cock in and out of you, a little more confident now that you’ve adjusted to the size of him. Pressing his forehead against yours for a moment before capturing your lips again in a deep kiss, his hands find yours and laces your fingers together, pushing them against the mattress as he slides inside you and out again.

He swallows each and every single moan and whimper you give him and he allows you take all his own groans and ramblings about how perfect you are. When he feels every part of you tighten around him, your grip on him, your thighs around his torso and your sloppy cunt around his cock, he knows you’re so close.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of him fucking into you, trying to get you to where you need to be. He’s so close behind you, and the desperation has him letting go of your hand to reach between you to rub your clit. A few circles are all you need before you’re arching your back off the bed.

“Steve…”

“Just let go, baby, I’ve got you,” he slurs and almost on command your pussy grips his as you finally reach your orgasm. He fucks you in earnest now, chasing his own high, a frenetic pace that has him gasping against your neck as he finally spills inside you, allowing your still spasming cunt to milk him of everything that’s been building up inside him all night.

He’s boneless by the time it’s over and he carefully scoops you in his arms before he rolls over onto his side, making sure not to put any weight on you. He smiles as your arms try to come around him, but fail. Instead one arm makes it across his waist and the other falls against his scalp, lazily combing through the damp strands of his hair.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” he whispers against your temple before pressing a tender kiss to it.

You make a series of noises that he thinks sounds positive and he chuckles. Shifting a little to grab one of the tissues from the box on his bedside table, your grip suddenly tightens, not wanting him to move.

“Just need to clean us both up, baby,” he explains and you answer with a lazy shake of your head.

“Later,” you murmur and he can already see the flutter of your lashes as they close. Your tiny breaths trace a line against his chest and he can’t help the grin that settles on his face.

“I love you, sweetheart. I can’t explain how thankful I am.”

A peaceful silence settles in the room and Steve measures your breathing with his own.

“I love you, too.”

…

When Steve wakes up, he immediately wishes for sleep to come back because of how comfortable he feels having you next to him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to waking up with you in his arms. There’s just a comfort there that you don’t even realize that you provide. And he knows, without a doubt that he will devote the rest of his life to making sure that his future will look exactly like this. You, sleeping on his pillow, mouth slightly ajar, hair mussed and a nipple peeking out from under the blanket.

Except there’s a noise coming from the house that immediately has him pull away from you. He’s silent for a moment trying to figure out what’s going on before the realization that his parents are home finally settles in his mind.

Ironic how they’re home when he thought they’d be gone and never around when he needs them to be.

As carefully as he can manage, he pushes himself out of bed and rushes to pull a pair of jeans on and a polo shirt, something presentable. Running his hands through his hair a couple of times to tame it, he quietly opens the door and steps out before shutting it just as silently behind him.

It’s his father’s voice that hits him first.

He’s ranting about something (likely about Steve, because when isn’t he?) and Steve quickly makes his way down the stairs. But not before almost tripping over your shoes. He scoops your shoes up before hurrying the rest of the way down the stairs and tosses them in the hallway closet before heading to the kitchen where his parents are seated at the table. He’s quick to notice that his tuxedo jacket from last night is hanging over one of the chairs.

Steve freezes when his father lowers the newspaper enough to give him a once-over.

“What are you doing up so late, Steven? Wasting away in your room?” his father snaps, harshly folding the newspaper in half.

The words are familiar to Steve. Almost like a script now that his father rattles every time he wants to feel like he’s a father.

“Actually, I have—”

“Have a little ambition, Steven,” his father continues, ignoring him completely.

Steve’s mother remains silent as she sips on a glass of red wine in the middle of the day, not even bothering to look at him. Steve wishes that maybe his mother didn’t care so little. Or at least would find it in herself to at least pretend that he’s her son and treat him like it from time to time.

His hands clench tightly and he tries not to feel so small under his father’s relentless glare.

All he’s wanted to do since the two of you got together is to introduce his girlfriend to his parents but now… Now he isn’t so sure he wants to if all they’re going to do is remind you of all the reasons why you would be better off without him.

“I just don’t understand how you can choose to just piss your life away after being given all the privileges you could possibly get.”

Steve takes a deep breath. “What do you mean?” he asks, trying to keep is voice calm.

“Are you serious?” His father lets out a sardonic laugh. “You were such a godawful student in high school that you couldn’t even get into any colleges. Not even fucking Tech.” The last word is said with such derision that Steve can’t help but flinch. “And now you’re stuck working some shitty job for shitty pay and for what? You’re going to just waste everything we’ve given you as you rot in Family Video?”

Everything we’ve given you.

The words keep repeating in Steve’s head until it feels like an echo in his brain.

He clenches his hands tightly at his sides. “I told you that it would be difficult to do both sports and maintain a good GPA,” Steve calmly explains, even as his heart hammers in his chest, unused to speaking up for himself. “But you were the one who insisted that I do both. You planned it all out for me—get the perfect girlfriend, get the sports scholarship, go to college. Just like you did. But… I’m not like you.”

His father studies him cruelly and Steve takes a deep breath, trying hard to crumble before him like he always would.

There’s something in him that wants to fight this time. To make them hear him. To make them see him.

“Nothing about what you said should have been difficult, Steven.”

“I can want different things, dad. Why does success have to be what you decide it should be?”

His father tilts his head to the side, jaw set. “You’re right about one thing,” his father finally says. “You aren’t like me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be such a complete and utter disappointment.”

That’s the final blow. The one that finally snaps the already delicate string that was holding onto a dream of making his parents happy. Because for once, Steve has so much joy in his life because of you.

And all he really wants is to be able to share that with his parents.

But he merely nods stiffly, unable to continue fighting for himself.

Except your hand slides into his, loosening his fingers until they’re laced together with yours. And Steve hopes that you’ll never let him go.

You’re barefoot in his parents kitchen, your hair a rat’s nest, and you’re dressed in a pair of his sweatpants with the waist rolled over several times to make it more manageable to wear and an old t-shirt of his from when he was in middle school. And you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” You demand and it takes Steve a moment to realize that you’re talking to his mom. “You’re his mother.”

His mother remains silent, merely raising an eyebrow at you and Steve as she raises her glasses once again to her lips. And Steve takes a deep breath, trying his best to keep his heart intact.

“Who the hell are you?” Steve’s father eyes are angry as they regard you.

Steve panic sets in quickly. “Please, sweetheart. Just stay out of it.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll stay out of it.” You shake your head. “But not before I tell your parents something.”

Steve thinks that his father might look a little bit impressed as he lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Apparently my home is full of rebellious teenagers today so why not?”

Your tongue swipes at your lower lip. “Steve is…”

Steve thinks he’s going to have a heart attack now. All he wants to pull you away from this conversation, from his parents and this house. But your grip on his hand remains firm and it tells him that you’re not going anywhere until you say what you need to say.

But you turn to look at him. And he sees all the love he’s ever wanted reflected in your eyes. And decides that he’s going to go where you want to go and if you want to stay, then that’s what he’ll do.

“Steve is a good man. In fact, I think he might be the best man I’ll ever meet.” You smile at him and he finds the courage to smile back. “Because he tries. He tries so hard for everyone. Tries to be the person that everyone needs him to be. And he does it all and never complains.”

You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back, his heartbeat slowing down as it also swells in his chest with love.

“But I don’t think anyone has ever really tried for him.” You tear your eyes away from Steve and stare down at his father. “You sit there and you want to talk about how big of a disappointment he is? When all his life, all he’s been trying to do is live up to this image of your dream son. And for what? To fit into your picture-perfect family?”

When Steve doesn’t think he can love you anymore, you scoff and roll your eyes at his father.

And he thinks…

He thinks he’s going to marry you one day.

“All I see are two miserable adults pretending that they’re the poster family for the American dream. But one day—and I hope and fucking pray that it’s one day soon—Steve is going to realize that he doesn’t need to live up to your impossible expectations.”

No, he thinks, he’s definitely going to marry you one day.

“That he doesn’t need you anymore. Because when that day comes, he’ll be all the happier for it. And you’ll just have an empty room in your house that used to belong to someone that had loved you.”

Steve doesn’t realize until he hears you sniffle that you started crying at some point. And he hates the thought of making you cry over him.

“But you never bothered to love him back enough to really get to know him and appreciate the man that he is.”

He doesn’t wait to hear what his father has to say. Because you’re right. About all of it.

And he’s done.

He pulls you by the hand, tugs you along until you make it out the front door. Remembering that he tossed your shoes into the abyss that is the hallway closet, he bends down and quickly sweeps you into his arms and carries you to his car. You can both hear his father’s angry yelling but the distance makes it hard to understand what he’s trying to say. And Steve can’t bring himself to care.

Steve sets you on the trunk and he moves to unlock the door for you, but you stop him, pulling on the sleeve of his shirt.

“Hey, look at me,” you say quietly.

He pauses before standing in front of you. Your eyes are shining, still wet from crying and Steve sighs as he wraps his arms around you.

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. “But I don’t ever want you to cry over me ever again.”

“I love you, too, but don’t think I can promise something like that,” you tell him honestly, hugging him tight. “I feel too much for you. And everything that your dad said? That was so untrue. Because you’ve never once disappointed me.”

Steve’s always taken everything he can from everyone. Every single piece anyone has been able to give him, he takes it. Uses it to build up a person who is worth something to someone.

But he likes the weight that your words carry inside him. Not something unbearable, but something true and real.

Steve nods before pulling away to press a tender kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.”

You wave him away with your hand. “It was nothing. And honestly, it felt really good to unload on your parents like that.”

“It felt good to hear it.”

Steve grins as he feels your hands cup his face. “Then I’ll keep saying it.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You frown. “Actually, before we do anything else… I think I might need some painkillers. I honestly don’t know how I managed to get out of bed or walk down the stairs. There are muscles in places I didn’t know I had until now and they fucking hurt.”

“Ah yeah…” Steve nervously chuckles, rubbing his neck with his hand. Unfortunately, for the both of you, his plans of breakfast in bed and treating you like a queen while you recuperate from your first time having sex is no longer in the books thanks to his parents’ unexpected arrival.

“I’m sorry about that. I had a whole day planned for you and now…”

You shrug lightly. “Don’t be sorry. All things considered, it was perfect. Just…” You shift your weight a little. “I think I might need a couple of days to recuperate.”

“You flatter me way too much, sweetheart,” he jokes, kissing your cheek.

“Whatever.” You roll your eyes. “By the way, not to be a snoop but I was in your closet looking for something wear… why do you have a baseball bat with a bunch of nails hammered into it sitting in your closet?”

…

Steve really doesn’t think there will be a day where things just go the way he wants.

And this shit is honestly getting tiring.

Because instead of spending the day in bed with you like he wanted, he is now in the Wheelers’ basement along with the rest of the ragtag upside down team. He feels a little sorry for you as you sit on the couch, munching on a slice of pizza while seven pairs of eyes are staring at you. But you don’t seem to mind at all as you continue to enjoy your pizza, absorbing all the details of the sordid story that he and others have just relayed to you.

“So let me get this straight,” you say once you’ve finished the slice you were working on. “There is—”

“Was,” Dustin can’t help but correct you and Steve rolls his eyes.

“There was a place that you call the Upside Down that is the exact replica of Hawkins, located beneath Hawkins. And it’s filled with all sorts of monsters which you all defeated, which is also what caused the fire at the mall. And now the Byers plus Chief Hopper live in California with Mike’s girlfriend who has super powers.”

“It’s not as simple as that,” Mike argues and Steve is thankful when Max elbows his side.

“Okay, fine. That would be correct if you’re going to skimp on words,” Mike amends quickly, grumbling.

You turn to Steve then and he freezes a little because he really didn’t plan on telling you any of this. He really would prefer for you not to have known that there was ever a threat like that in the world. Would rather you just live peacefully without having to deal with the knowledge like the rest of them do.

But one of the things he loves about you is your single-mindedness. Once you decide on something—in this case, figuring out why it was necessary for him to arm himself with a ridiculous makeshift weapon—then you stop at nothing to figure it out.

“How many times have you put yourself in danger, Steve?”

Steve’s mouth falls open and he quickly scans the rest of the group for help. “I mean, I wouldn’t say I put myself in danger.”

“Three times,” Max answers helpfully.

Dustin shakes his head. “More like four times.”

“He got the shit kicked out of him at least three times, that’s for sure,” Lucas supplies.

“Yeah, but the first time Jonathan beat him up so I’m not sure that one counts,” Nancy adds. “At least I wouldn’t count that as really putting himself in danger.”

“Yeah, that was more of him being an asshole. And an idiot.”

Steve glares at Jonathan. And he really thought that he and Jonathan could start getting along.

“I think the Russians beat him up more than once, though.” Robin pauses, trying to remember. “I would say that would be enough to count three beatings. Or like, two and a half at least.”

Steve takes a deep breath before trying to reason with everyone. “Okay okay okay.” He holds his hands up in the air. “That’s enough.”

“Oh I agree,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, your eyes still trained on him. “It’s not at all alarming to find out that your boyfriend has some type of secret death wish.”

“To be fair, I don’t think he wants to die. In fact, I think he’s incredibly good at staying alive.” Dustin looks at Steve proudly and Steve would love nothing more than to shove Dustin into the deep freeze.

But before Steve can say anything, you cut in.

“Henderson, I don’t think you have anything to be proud of considering it sounds like you’re mostly to blame for fueling Steve’s propensity to play the hero.”

Everyone is silent.

Thinking.

“No yeah, that sounds right to me,” Max murmurs and the rest of the group nod in agreement.

Except for Dustin who sputters indignantly and Steve slaps a hand to his head as he shakes it.

This is not going the way he thought it would.

Once he convinces everyone to give you and him some space to talk and everyone trudges up the stairs talking about how they’re going to be back in fifteen minutes whether he likes it or not, he sits on the sofa next to you and takes your hand in his.

You let him, which he thinks is a good sign.

“Sweetheart,” he says after allowing the silence to go on for too long that it’s made him uncomfortable. “I know it’s a lot but, I just want you to know that all of that is over now.”

You snort. “No, the other weird parallel universe is gone. But you’re still you, Steve. And you need to…” You take a deep breath. “I need to know that whatever propelled you to dive headfirst into danger in the past has been dealt with. And I don’t mean the upside down. And I don’t think I mean Henderson though I now harbor visions of setting him on fire.”

“No, I get it,” he admits and takes a deep breath of his own. “Sometimes I wonder why I did all that. I didn’t have to, but I’m honestly glad I did.”

He pauses for a moment. “Except for the getting beat up by Jonathan and the events that led up to that.” Steve winces at the memory. He could really do with that not having happened.

“The kids are safe. And everyone is alive and…” He shrugs helpless, unsure if he’s digging himself deeper with each word. But he owes you honesty, even when it’s hard. “I’d like to think I had a hand in that. So I can’t regret any of things I’ve done to protect them. It’s worth the sacrifice”

Steve’s not proud of everything that he’s done in the past. But he’s thankful to have been around to help make sure that everyone was safe.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow however, not having been able to save everyone. The unfortunate burden of survivors’ guilt, he thinks. But every day he’s grateful that he was around to do something. And a part of him hopes that you can at least understand that. Maybe be proud of him.

You sigh as you squeeze his hand. “I’m at least glad that you all decided to tell me the truth. That you all trusted me enough to tell me this. I mean, part of me still wants to think that this is some elaborate joke that you all cooked up but…”

Steve melts a little when you lift his arm over your shoulders and snuggle into his side. “I am a little impressed. A little concerned with all the head injuries, though. But what I really want is for you to promise me that you’ll… exercise caution.”

“Exercise caution?” he chuckles, remembering the conversation he had with you when you first started hanging out with him and the rest of the group. “What are you, my mother?”

You roll your eyes before turning your head and playfully bite the fleshy part between his armpit and his shoulder. “Shut up, Harrington. You’re on thin ice as it is. But I’m serious. You’re worth much more than you seem to think you are. And that’s doesn’t sit right with me.” You bury your face into his side and Steve’s grip tightens around you. “The next time something happens—and I really hope nothing happens—but if something does, promise me that whatever you do next lets you at least come home to me.”

There’s a tight knot that forms in his throat that he manages to swallow down before pressing a kiss to your temple. Because he likes the sound of that very much, loves the idea of always coming home to you.

“I promise,” he whispers.

“Good,” you whisper back.

“You guys better not be fucking on the couch!” Mike calls down the basement stairs.

…

The week that follows the big revelation is one that is quiet and predictable. So he’s at least thankful for that.

You and Steve have been dating for a full month now and despite you not wanting to “be corny and celebrate” he still brings you a bouquet of flowers when he picks you up at school and even as you scoff and roll your eyes, he can still tell by your pretty smile that you love them. And he takes you to his house, once again empty of his parents, and cooks you a spaghetti dinner. Granted the sauce came out of a jar but you didn’t seem to mind at all.

The only thing he does have to adjust to is working with Eddie Munson.

There’s not anything wrong with Eddie but knowing that there was a time that you had romantic feelings for him, do get in the way of Steve wanting to be friends with the guy.

Except on Wednesday, you have plans to see a movie with Nancy and Robin after class, and Steve is stuck with a closing shift with Eddie. The movie is set to end about forty minutes after the Family Video closes and with it being such a slow night, he and Eddie already have all the tapes rewound and shelves stocked. The work is mostly done in silence, though Eddie likes to hum often to keep himself occupied.

Once closing time comes around, the two of them shuffle out the door and Steve locks the store. He debates just sitting in his car and waiting for the movie to end or driving home and then driving back to grab you.

“Would you like to partake in some herbal offerings, Harrington?” Eddie asks when Steve looks over to him. Eddie has the backdoors of his van wide open and despite the clear threat of anyone just casually happening by, he’s holding a perfectly rolled joint in his fingers.

Steve looks around cautiously.

It is already dark. And there isn’t anywhere he needs to be.

Fifteen minutes later and Steve is high off his ass in the back of Eddie’s van while they listen to Van Halen playing on the tape deck.

Eddie’s emptying out a bag of chips into his mouth, uncaring of the ones that spill onto the floor and Steve can’t even remember what they were just talking about.

He thinks it might be something about wombats and poop. But he’s not too sure.

In the settling silence, Eddie turns to look at him from where he’s sitting on the floor of his van, his back propped up by the back of the driver’s seat. Steve shifts uncomfortably, his brain struggling to piece together decent conversation.

“I need to thank you, you know,” Eddie tells him, “She’ll say she doesn’t need it, and she doesn’t. But… it’s nice to have someone else look out for her. She’s happier. Everyone can tell.”

Steve thinks that he’s malfunctioning for a good minute before Eddie’s words finally process through his sluggish brain.

“She’s like…” He feels his lips form the words. “The most amazing thing, like, ever. In my life. Like… All the things.”

He hears Eddie chuckle. “You don’t smoke a lot, do you, Harrington?”

Steve blinks a couple of times before the answer comes to him. “I do… Sometimes. But this shit is strong, man.”

“Didn’t think the dude that Henderson described as being a ‘badass’ would be such a lightweight,” Eddie jokes lightly.

“He said that?”

“Absolutely.”

Steve smiles a little to himself, pleased to know that Dustin would refer to him in such a way. For all that Dustin can be trying sometimes, he’s still the little brother Steve never knew he needed and it warms his heart that the kid would go so far as to vouch for him to other people.

“But now I’m not too sure.” Eddie nods grimly before cracking a smile. “Nah, man. I’m just kidding. You’re cool.”

“As a cucumber.”

Eddie snorts. “And now you’ve ruined it.”

The laughter bubbles out of Steve’s chest, relaxed though unbidden and Eddie joins in.

“She told me that you thought we had kissed.” Eddie states simply once the laughter subsides.

“Fuck, you’re gonna bring shit up like that you better having another joint on you somewhere.”

Eddie pulls one out, almost out of thin air. “Your wish is my command.”

Steve watches as Eddie lights it and takes the first hit before reaching across the back of the van to pass it over to Steve. He takes it gratefully and takes his own hit, enjoying the way it muddles his brain and untangles his nerves.

“I didn’t kiss her,” Eddie clarifies as he takes the joint back. “I was jokingly pretending that I was going to and then she said ‘Eww stop!’” Eddie says in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like you and Steve chuckles.

While the topic is certainly uncomfortable, he appreciates Eddie’s efforts in clearing the air with him.

“She’s like a sister to me, that one. But I’ll admit I was surprised.”

Steve manages to raise an eyebrow at Eddie. “Really? Dude, it was so obvious.”

“Really?” Eddie looks a little impressed. “You must have really been looking to see all that.”

“I was,” Steve readily admits. “Still am. I hope to always be.”

Eddie shakes his head and takes another drag of the joint before passing it over again. “That’s some heavy stuff, Harrington. You know you’ve only been dating for a month, right?”

“I do.”

“And you know she’s going off to college in New York, right? That’s not an easy drive no matter how fancy your car is.”

Steve swallows hard at that statement, despite his mouth feeling dry.

Of course he knows. He thinks about it every day. Counts the days until you have to leave in September, first day of classes slated for the ninth. That’s why he takes every opportunity available to him to be with you, instead of what he would normally do which is to overthink if it’s worth his time to invest in this relationship. He already knows the answer to that.

Absolutely. You will always be worth it.

“Yeah.” It comes out as a whisper. He stares at the joint in his hand, burning through the thin paper, and he takes another drag.

“Are you going with her?”

Steve shakes his head. “No, I can’t… Just need to figure things out first. I don’t want to be dead weight.”

“Fuck that, man!” Eddie leans forward and snatches the joint back. “Look, I’m heading out to New York myself. No plans, just dreams and my guitar, brother.”

“Where would you even live, Munson?”

Eddie shrugs. “Couch surf for a little bit til I find a place of my own. I know a few guys out there that we’ve played shows with in the past.”

“How do you do that?”

Eddie tilts his head to the side curiously. “What do you mean? Do what?”

“Just do stuff.” The headiness is slowly ebbing away as the seriousness of the conversation starts to sink its teeth in him. “How do you know things will work out?”

“Oh, that’s beauty of it! I don’t!” Eddie kicks his legs out in front of him and crosses them at the ankles before taking another drag, filling the already hazy van with more smoke. “No one’s ever expected me to be anything. A blessing and a curse, lemme tell ya. Never thought I’d amount to anything but it’ll be nice to surprise everyone if I do. If it doesn’t happen then…” Eddie simply shrugs. “Then doesn’t. But my gut tells me I gotta go out there and try, you know?”

Steve nods, uncertain of what to make of receiving pearls of wisdom from Eddie Munson of all people. But he’ll take it where he can get it.

“I’m not sure what it is that I’m meant to do just yet,” he finally admits.

“Who the fuck cares, man? You just graduated last year. Gotta give yourself a break, Harrington. The only thing you need to think about is whether you’ll find the answer here in Hawkins fucking, Indiana or out there.”

Steve finds himself staring at Eddie’s scuffed up boots that look like they’ve lived through a thousand lives compared to the spotless pair of Nikes on his feet.

“Your girl is going places. She doesn’t have to go by herself. Just saying.”

“I don’t want to pull her down, though. I want to be… someone. For her. I guess I don’t want to be some lost puppy she has to worry about while she’s doing her thing.”

“As one of your closest friends—”

Steve chuckles. “We’re friends now?”

Eddie pretends to be stabbed in the chest, placing his hands on his heart. “I’m letting you date my sister, dude. We’re like… blood.”

Steve decides not to mention that you and Eddie aren’t even remotely related and simply rolls his eyes and Eddie responds with a grin.

“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you’re kind of a downer. Totally my killing my buzz here. You got a chip on your shoulder. So what? We all do.” Eddie slides his back down from where he’s leaning until he’s laying flat on the floor of his van with his hands stacked behind his head. “But don’t be like my dad, man. Lemme tell you about Al Munson.”

Eddie heaves a long, tired sigh that Steve can feel in his own bones. “Because that man, all he ever fucking said was ‘When I hit it big, we’re gonna see the world, son’ or ‘When things start to work out for me, we’re gonna leave this trailer park, son’ and we never saw the world and I still live in the trailer park. All he was doing was waiting around for something to happen to him before he did anything that actually mattered.”

Steve realizes in that moment how similar he and Eddie are. Just a couple of kids with absentee parents who had to raise themselves even if they didn’t know what they were doing. And the thought makes him smile a little at the irony of it all given that at first glance he and Eddie look like the polar opposites.

“What if it’s here? What if I want to stay in Hawkins?” Steve finally admits.

He’s not good with plans. In fact, he sucks at them. At least the making a plan part. The following part, he’s quite good at. He’s always been reactive by nature instead of someone gifted with foresight. But now that he thinks about it, maybe he’s never really given himself a chance to try.

“Hey if your story is meant to take place in Hawkins, then that’s what’s going to happen. But!” Eddie shoves his boot against Steve’s shoe, getting a bit of dirt on it. Steve can’t bring himself to mind, though. “You gotta have that conversation with her, man. I’m telling you this as the best friend to both of you, she doesn’t know how to bring this shit up with you.”

Steve can’t help but smile at his sudden promotion to best friend.

“I hear you.” And he does, he really does. But maybe he’s the same. Because it’s hard. He likes this little bubble you’ve created for yourselves where reality hasn’t yet been allowed to set in. And it’s been nice to pretend that the future doesn’t exist when the present is so perfect.

“Now that I’ve done my best friend duties, have you ever listened to Pink Floyd, Harrington?”

…

A/N: Quick question – how does everyone feel about Steve’s canon ending? Did we like that he stays in Hawkins or do we feel like Steve should have been allowed to explore more of his options? Not going to affect the way this story ends, of course! But I am genuinely curious!

...

Nothing changes.

Except for maybe the fact that you’re happier.

You have a hot boyfriend.

And… He really likes touching you. Oh, and kissing you.

Mostly it’s the touching part that throws you off. But only because you’re not used to being with someone who chronically requires that they have their hands or arms on or around you whenever you are able to occupy the same room. Although, this is your first relationship, you’re not sure if you’ve encountered anyone who needs to hold or touch you as much as they need to breathe. You’re not complaining, though. That part of the relationship is satisfying in its own way.

You and Steve have spent an impressive amount of time together in the three weeks that you’ve been officially dating. You didn’t think it was possible to spend so much time together considering that Steve has a full-time job and you are a full-time student. But he’s there almost every morning (often pretending that he didn’t just stumble out of your bedroom window five minutes ago), jokes with your mom, makes coffee for both you and your mom, grabs the morning paper from the porch. Just seamlessly fitting into your day.

If he has a morning shift, then he’s taking you to school. If he’s closing for the day, that means you’re spending your lunch period in his car. Doing stuff.

Thursday movie nights have expanded to include him, Max, sometimes Robin—band practice permitting—, sometimes Dustin, and Eddie. Although Eddie’s membership may soon be revoked if he does not stop bringing sappy romance films to watch. There are only so many times you can watch The Way We Were and listen to him sniffling on the armchair, using all the tissues in your house to blow his nose into.

You learn that it’s not difficult to love Steve.

He is sunshine and quiet moments, smiles and holding your hand. He makes you a mixtape of the songs he knows you like. He takes you to the bookstore to pick out books and never asks if you can leave already.

He tells you you’re beautiful when you don’t feel like it. Tells you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

And you wonder why it took so long for someone to love this man.

That’s why it breaks your heart when he finally meets your aunt and your uncle.

It isn’t under the best circumstances. You and your uncle Eric have commandeered the kitchen to make lunch for the two most important women in your lives. The Rolling Stones is playing on the radio while you prep the sides and even though Uncle Eric’s stuffed chicken breasts are already falling apart before he can put them in the oven, you think you have everything under control.

Until there’s a knock on your door.

You turn to your mom and aunt who are sitting at the dining table and your mom returns your confused look.

Abandoning the mashed potatoes, you wipe your hands on your apron to answer the door.

It’s Steve.

“Hey,” you say as he steps into the house. “What are you doing here?”

You take in the slump in his shoulders and his eyes that are usually so full of life and joy are devoid of any emotion. And that’s when you see that he’s clutching the same bouquet of roses that you helped him pick out yesterday.

They were supposed to be for his mom. He was excited when he told you a week ago that they were scheduled to arrive this morning to celebrate the holiday together.

Mother’s Day.

And now he’s here.

Your heart plummets at the realization.

“I’m so sorry, Steve,” you say as you pull him into a tight hug. Tears prick your eyes and you hug him tighter, trying to absorb his pain, to take it from him or at least share the burden.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly, brokenly. “I had nowhere else to go.”

You hold each other tight until your mom finally comes over, quickly deducing what happened. And because your mom is the best, when you and Steve pull apart, she takes the bouquet from him and smiles.

“I love them, Steve,” she tells him honestly, “Thank you so much.”

Steve hugs your mom tight and you can tell that he’s trying his best to keep it together.

Your mom can see it, too.

“Maggie and I will finish the rest of the dishes, you already have almost everything done anyway. I’ll call you when lunch is ready.”

You nod and mouth a quick thank you to her before pulling Steve towards your room. When the door is finally closed and both of you are sitting on your bed, he finally lets himself cry. The sound of grief coming from Steve is so foreign and so unlike him. So you cry with him, not knowing what else to do. Not knowing how to ease this irreversible pain. Because how do you put together something that you didn’t break in the first place?

You lay next to each other, tears already wiped away, holding hands, when he finally speaks.

“I’m never going to be like my parents.”

“You couldn’t be even if you tried.”

He lets out a watery laugh and you turn to each other at the same time. You see his eyes shiny with new unshed tears. Not sad, but still emotional.

“You sure about that?”

“I bet my life on it,” you tell him decisively.

He smiles and reaches his hand over to caress the side of your face.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely. “I love you.”

By the time your mom calls for you to eat and you get to the dining table, an extra chair had been pulled out of the garage and your aunt and uncle, likely having been appraised of the situation before you join them, go out of there way to be accommodating. They introduce themselves, saving everyone the awkwardness.

Then your aunt decides to lambast your character by saying she never thought you’d bring a boy home. Ever. And that firmly breaks the ice despite it being at your expense.

But because it makes Steve blush, you don’t even care.

“I apologize for just coming over and not calling beforehand,” Steve tells your family as he pulls his chair out, having just helped you onto yours.

You can tell that he’s a little intimidated by your fashionista aunt and her husband who is a looks like he would be a big grump—he’s a teddy bear—and also has fifty more pounds of pure muscle over your boyfriend.

It’s your aunt that takes his arm and pulls him onto his seat. “Steve, you can apologize by helping us eat this feast because your uncle Eric made a lot of food, trying to get this recipe right.”

“Yeah, because your aunt Maggie is a perfectionist. I’m a mechanic, not a chef,” Uncle Eric retorts making you and Steve laugh.

Uncle Eric and Aunt Maggie.

Steve is a little bashful at the way he’s easily embraced by your family. He tries to address your aunt and uncle more formally a few more times but they both wave him off, insisting on being referred to as Uncle Eric and Aunt Maggie.

Then you think Steve might cry again because after the first time they do this, your mom points a finger to herself and simply says, “and Mom.”

Steve looks at you, stunned, and you laugh and shrug.

“I can share, I guess,” you assure him.

After you’ve finished dessert, your uncle pulls Steve outside so that they can talk about the beamer, but mostly so your uncle can show off his ’67 Ford Shelby GT.

“So he’s the guy?” Aunt Maggie asks as the three of you sit in the living room having coffee. “The ring guy? Good job! He’s really cute.”

“There’s a ring?” your mother turns to you. “He gave you a ring?”

You frown. “No, he did not. We literally just started dating three weeks ago, mother.”

“Your feminist daughter bought a ring for him.”

You stare into your coffee cup as heat starts to bloom on your neck and cheeks. “It’s not like that. I just bought it on a whim. Not really for anyone. You can check my jewelry box if you’d like, it’s still there,” you tell them defensively.

Your aunt tuts and rolls her eyes. “What’s so wrong about gifting men with jewelry? I give your uncle jewelry all the time. He doesn’t wear it, but I still do it. Only so I can complain about how much jewelry I’ve given him and how little he’s given me.”

“Don’t teach her anything!” Uncle Mike whines as he and Steve step through the front door. “She’s still innocent. Keep your womanly wiles to yourself, Maggie.”

Steve laughs as he tosses a set of keys back to your uncle who catches it deftly in the air before patting Steve on the back. You choke on a giggle when Steve winces at the impact of your uncle’s meaty hand.

You smile, happy that your family loves him so much.

Then you frown, realizing something. “Wait, did you let him drive the Shelby? That’s not fair!”

“The kid knows how to take good care of a car.” Your uncle shrugs. “If I can trust him with you, then I can trust him with my baby.”

…

You have another difficult conversation with Steve a few days later that isn’t an argument. You haven’t argued yet, surprisingly, still enjoying that honeymoon period of the relationship where you both constantly give in to each other ad nauseum.

It’s when he finally asks, after weeks of avoiding the matter, what happened that night at the Harpers’ house.

You’re sitting on the couch in his basement. You’ve just finished watching Back to the Future because for some reason Steve doesn’t remember seeing the movie, which is a weird way to phrase it considering it just came out the year before. You don’t question it and frankly you have a huge crush on Michael J. Fox so who are you to stand between your boyfriend and a good movie?

He doesn’t say anything at first. And that feels worse somehow.

Because you know that he really doesn’t want it to be true. You don’t either but, it did happen and it’s not something that you’ll be able to change.

You can see his jaw working as he processes this information, see how his hands are balled tightly and you are both amazed and thankful that there is some restraint left in him preventing him from hunting down the douchebag.

Then he asks you to repeat it again, just to make sure that he understood everything.

So you do, although you don’t see how this will help.

You’ve gotten to a point where you’ve stopped thinking about it. But there are days that you are unfortunate enough to spot Andy Harper in the hallway and those days you can’t help but replay through those five minutes that you were waiting for Steve to come. Those days, you realize you still haven’t really forgiven yourself for being so stupid. And you’re not sure if you ever will.

He nods when you’re done, but you still feel that tension that’s stuck to his skin and it feels too different, almost wrong. You feel the space between you, pronounced by more than just physical distance, growing with the silence that envelops you both. Desperate to fix it, you carefully crawl onto his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Hey.”

The eyes that were trained on his lap finally meet yours.

“Hey,” he finally says.

“What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking of all the things that could have happened if I hadn’t gotten to you in time. And I…” He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I don’t like any of the images I see in my head.”

You lean against him, fitting perfectly into the curve of his neck and shoulder. “I think about that enough for the both of us,” you admit. “But you did make it and you were there.”

“I know but…”

“No buts.”

“Okay.”

You smile when you feel him relax enough to put his arms around you, too.

“I owe you another conversation, I think.” You pull away and look him square in the eyes. “About the week that I avoided you.”

“That was definitely more than a week, sweetheart,” he says pointedly, but he softens it with a small smile.

“Tomato potato,” you brush him off.

“I don’t think that’s how it goes—”

You narrow your eyes at him playfully. “You really wanna talk about that or…?”

“Please continue,” he says graciously.

You take a deep breath. “You already know how I feel about you. I already told you, but I… I just wanted to make sure that you understand that that happened not because of anything that you did. And honestly…” You trace the freckles and moles that dot his skin. “It made me feel bad that you ever thought that that was because of you. Actually, that’s not entirely true.”

Steve looks terribly confused and you can’t blame him. You’re still new to the whole being vocal about feelings part of being in a relationship. And, honestly, you still kind of suck at it.

“Okay, let me rephrase that. I avoided you because I was starting to feel things that I… wasn’t used to feeling. And I wasn’t prepared to deal with it yet.”

You feel Steve’s hands grip your hips a little tighter. “So… it was about me.”

“Oh absolutely.”

You roll your eyes at the smug look on his face.

“Because you like me so much.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet you still luuurve me.”

You shut him up with a kiss because that part of being in a relationship comes easy to you. And Steve more than obliges.

…

Prom is three days away and seems to be the only thing students are talking about in the hallways of Hawkins High. Immune to it all, you pat Robin’s shoulder during lunch as she sits sadly, hunched over her tray of mystery meat. You grimace, hoping the tips of her hair don’t somehow make their way into the gray gravy.

“Okay, I heard in the girls bathroom by the gym that Vickie broke up with her boyfriend and so she’s not going to prom,” Robin whines. “But! What if I’m misreading this entire thing? And even then, even if Steve is right and she is… of a similar persuasion as me, how would I even ask her that? Like how do I confirm it? And even if I do confirm it, why would she even go out with me? Her ex is like some super jock on some super jock scholarship at Purdue. And I am the opposite of all that.”

“Maybe they broke up because she wants the opposite of all that?” you point out as you unpack your lunch from its brown bag. “If all else fails, I could go with you. I guess I can find a dress somewhere. I don’t know.”

“No offense, but you’re like my sister and… I’m not into that kind of thing.”

You almost choke on your turkey and swiss. “I was just offering, Robin. Geez.”

“Well, why don’t you have Steve take you?”

“Because I don’t want to go?”

“But you just offered to go with me.”

“Because you want to go.”

Robin sighs. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I may have heard that before, yes.” You shrug. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he has work that night and I don’t even have a dress so…”

Robin shoots you a knowing look. “So you do want to go.”

“I…” you sigh, putting your sandwich down. “I’ll admit that I didn’t want to go because I really couldn’t see myself having fun at this thing.”

“But now that you have a hot boyfriend?” She waggles her eyebrows at you and you nudge her shoulder. “Prom’s not looking too bad now, huh?”

You scoff and roll your eyes, a small smile playing along your lips. You can’t deny that Robin might be a little right.

The prospect of prom does sound more appealing now that you have someone like Steve to experience it with. But you would also be happy to just spend time with him without the whole stress that comes with getting ready for prom.

You push the idea far from your mind and don’t really think about it again until later when you’re in your last class of the day. Your Econ teacher dismisses the class and you drag your heels getting your things together, eyeing Vickie, who sits in the front row, shoving her notebook into her bag.

Before you can change your mind, you zip your backpack up and walk over to the redhead. “Hey,” you tell her, “Vickie, right?”

“Uh yeah!” She looks at you a little confused why you’ve struck up a conversation with her. “Hi!”

She smiles as you wait for you to say something and you scramble to think of a plan. “Oh, I uh… I was in the girls’ bathroom by the gym earlier and I overheard that you had just broken up with your boyfriend. And I… just wanted to say that I’m sorry it didn’t work out between the two of you.”

The more words that leave your mouth, the more awkward you realize you sound because not only have you never spoken more than three words to Vickie, but you are also essentially sharing gossip with her about herself. Which is very much out of character and something that you do not do.

She continues to smile at you, however, and she lightly shrugs. “Thanks? Just the long-distance thing is hard.”

“Doesn’t he go to Purdue? That’s not so bad, right? That’s like two or three hours away.”

She gives you a curious look. “I mean, yeah, one way. But an entire trip would be double that time. That’s just wasted time traveling when there are other things that you might want to be doing.”

You fall silent as you think about you and Steve.

Your plans haven’t really changed. You’re still attending NYU in the fall and Steve… you’re not really sure what his plans are. It’s not something you’ve talked about yet and, to be honest, maybe you were avoiding thinking about it altogether.

But NYU is more than just two or three hours away. It’s more than a full day’s drive even. And then having to drive back on your own? That doesn’t seem like much fun.

Vickie clears her throat to get your attention before she gives you a little wave. “Well, it was nice talking to you,” she says politely.

“Wait!” you try to stop her and you almost sigh in relief when she does. “Um, my friend and I don’t have dates to prom and we were thinking of going together. If you want, you can join us?”

“Aren’t you dating Steve Harrington?” You can hear the confusion in her voice.

“Valid point! Um, he’s actually working that night so he won’t be able to make it. It’ll just be me and Robin.”

You make a note of how Vickie’s cheeks pinken at the mention of Robin’s name and you start to think that you may just be able to get away with this.

“Why not, right?” you give her an encouraging smile. “I mean, you probably have your tickets and your dress… wouldn’t want those to go to waste?”

“Um, yeah.” She nods, an excited smile gracing her face. “Yeah, that sounds like fun actually.”

“Okay, cool!” You pull a pen out of the pocket of your backpack. “Um, let me give you Robin’s number. She’ll have all the details.”

…

You and Steve exchange worried looks before you both stare down at Robin who is breathing in and out of a brown paper bag as she sits on the sofa in her living room. Not entirely sure how to tell Robin that you had basically set her up with her crush, you waited until the last minute, right when you and Steve were dropping her off at her house.

Then she promptly started to hyperventilate at the news.

“I don’t know… I mean,” you say uncertainly, “I did good, right? At least I thought I did good.”

Steve rubs your shoulder comfortingly. “You did great, sweetheart.”

Robin glares at both of you and you shrug helplessly.

“Someday, she’ll both forgive you and thank you,” he assures you.

You highly doubt that since Robin has yet to stop scowling at you, but Steve’s her best friend so you choose to believe him.

Robin pulls the paper bag to say something but is promptly interrupted by the phone ringing.

“Oh!” You snap your fingers. “I may have also given her your phone number and… I may have also told her to give you call to talk about prom details.”

Robin slaps the bag back onto her face and it takes both you and Steve to pry it from her fingers.

“It could not be her,” Steve points out, having successfully taken the bag away. “But you’re never gonna know if you don’t answer it.”

She gives you a long-suffering look before walking over to the phone attached to their kitchen wall to answer it.

“Hi, Buckley residence! Thi-this is Robin speaking.” You watch as Robin’s eyes glance over at you and Steve briefly before furiously blushing and turning her back on you. “Hi Vickie! Yeah, she did tell me about that…”

Steve chuckles and pulls you all the way to the car, neither of you bothering to say goodbye. You spend the car ride back to your house play fighting over the radio and once you’re safely ensconced inside your bedroom, Steve fights for his life trying to undo your bra.

You can’t help but laugh from where you sit on his lap. “Do you need help?”

“Sonofabitch,” he mutters as you feel his fingers continue to struggle with the tiny clasps. Finally growing tired of trying he falls back onto your pillows. “I swear I know how those things work.”

You snort. “Uh huh, sure.”

Reaching around to your back, you undo the clasps finally allowing the cups of your bra to fall forward.

“Finally. Boobies.” Steve says reverently as he tears your bra off completely and tosses it towards your desk before cupping his hands around breasts, feeling the weight of them.

“You need to stop saying boobies, Steve.” You pull the bottom of his polo shirt halfway up his chest. “Eye for an eye, Harrington. Let’s see those titties.”

“That’s…” He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it in the same direction as your bra. “That’s not any better.”

You hum as you lean down and start kissing his neck, your nipples hardening as they brush against the wiry hair on his chest. You move further down his chest and take pleasure in Steve’s little gasps as you circle his nipple with your tongue.

Your relationship with Steve has been very physical. You were honest with him from the beginning, letting him know that you haven’t had sex with anyone before or much of anything before, really. Steve’s been sweet and careful with you, always letting you decide how far you want to take things which has resulted in him patiently teaching you how to jerk him off then rewarding you with testing how many fingers he needs to push inside you to make you cum.

Two, you both found out. Plus, a very diligent thumb on your clit.

Given that he’s been enjoying your exploration of his body, you’re a little surprised when, just as you’re about to unbutton his jeans, he quickly places his hands on you and hauls you up and onto the mattress. You swap places with him and now you’re spread across the bed as he lies between your legs.

Steve looks down at you with an impossibly tender expression on his face and it never fails to make you feel delicate and fragile. With eyes as soft as the smile he gives you, he leans down and presses a dainty little kiss at the tip of your nose.

He clears his throat. “So…”

“Yes?”

“I was thinking—if you’re okay with it, of course—I was thinking that maybe…” He trails a gentle finger from your lips, down your neck and along the valley of your breasts making you gasp, before stopping at the waistband of your short skirt. “I could go down on you?”

“Down on me?” You’re stunned by the proposal, but only because you always thought guys hated doing it.

“Yeah…” He isn’t even looking at you; his full attention is on his hand that has just dipped down the front of your skirt and is slowly inching up your inner thigh. “I wanna eat you out.”

“You want to?” you verify again, unsure. But your eyes flutter shut as he presses an insistent thumb against your clit through your damp underwear, making both your breath and pulse quicken. “Um, okay?”

He gives you a lingering kiss before he moves to his knees. “Promise that if you feel uncomfortable or just want me to stop, you’ll tell me?”

You nod and smile but your hands grip your sheets, a little nervous at trying something you’ve never done before.

There’s a slight furrow of concentration on Steve’s brow and you get distracted by the way he bites on his lower lip as he works the button of your black denim miniskirt and slides it off together with your underwear.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmurs softly when he sees how wet you are and the intensity of his gaze on you makes you squeeze your thighs together to relieve the need for pressure and touch.

Sliding to the foot of the bed, he places his hands on your knees and gently urges them apart. Suddenly shy, you turn your head to side as your thighs fall apart and it’s only a moment later when you feel his warm breath on the inside of your thigh.

Arousal sings through your veins, and your breathing comes out hot and shallow through your open mouth as your hips move upwards in anticipation. You can hear Steve chuckle and his large hand rests on your abdomen to still you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Let me give you what you need.”

You try not to squirm as you feel the tiny kisses and nibbles on your heated flesh, close enough but almost nowhere near where you yearn to be touched. Then finally, a wet flick of the tongue against your clit makes your hips buck again and this time Steve laughs as he holds you down firmly.

“So fucking reactive,” you think he says but you can’t be too sure with the blood rushing through your ears.

Before you can completely relax, you feel thick fingers slowly spread your pussy apart and Steve’s tongue is on your clit again, only this time there is no experimental touch just the steady flicking of your clit back and forth. You writhe in bed, trying your best not to grind into his face. Hands finding purchase of his hair, your fingers tangle in his curls and tug.

His lips close around your clit and when he sucks that sends a shiver through you and your fingers clamp onto his skull. You can feel the vibration of his laughter against your skin and you thrust your hips against him. You think you might maybe need a minute to calm yourself down or just try to breath, but that’s when his mouth drops down to your leaking slit and he swipes at it with his tongue, firm and relentless. The rocking motion coming from the bed, you realize, isn’t you but Steve rutting his hips against the mattress.

“Fuck!” you hiss at a particularly arduous swipe and your feet lift from the bed onto Steve’s shoulders.

The careful attention to your pussy goes on for what feels like forever and your clit is throbbing in time with your hammering heart. He’s earnest as he fucks his tongue into your pussy seeking that delicious spot that remains just out of reach. When he finally takes pity on you and pushes his fingers into you, they barely make it inside you, barely hit that spot that makes you see stars, when you start cumming. Eyes screwed shut, his name on your lips, your hips shoot up and Steve locks you in place with his hands and your legs slide down his back as he hungrily laps at your opening, trying his best to lick you clean.

When he finally releases you and you collapse onto the bed, boneless, Steve’s hands quickly go to the button of his jeans. You sit up to help but Steve quickly reaches out and pushes you back on to the mattress.

“Please just…” he says between pants, “I just need you to just stay like that.”

Obediently, you lie back down and you spread your legs for him again. All too eager, he pulls his zipper down and pushes his jeans down together with his boxers just enough to get his dick out. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him like this. You don’t have a lot of experience with sex, in fact none at all, but you know Steve is larger than average in both length and girth. And you salivate at the sight of his hard cock as it curves towards his abdomen.

And the fact that you’re the reason why he is this solid and needy, makes you so heady with arousal still.

His large hand can barely fit around his cock and he walks to the right side of your bed, his eyes never leaving your body. You watch as he starts to jack off, first with his right hand, then switching over to his left so that he can place his right on your breast and start massaging it.

You gasp when his fingers pinch your nipple and without thinking, you cup your hand around his balls, and massage them in the same way he had taught you to. The unexpected action has Steve fucking his fist more urgently until his eyes roll to the back of his head. A gluttural moan is ripped from his lips and his hips jerk as thick white ropes shoot from the tip of his cock and onto your chest and tummy.

“Fuck, that was hot, sweetheart,” he gasps. Once his panting has subsided, he leans down and presses a kiss against your temple. “Hang on, lemme get you cleaned up.”

…

To say that your mom is thrilled that you are going to prom is nothing short of an understatement. In fact, she might be arguably more excited than you about this because when you tell her that you’re going to need a dress so you and Robin can go to prom with a friend, she squeals, claps her hands and disappears into her room.

Only to reappear with the dress.

“Aunt Maggie altered it for you to fit better.”

You laugh as you take the dress from her. “Of course she did. Thank you, mom.”

“Of course, honey.” She gives you a quick squeeze before pouting. “Steve really can’t take you?”

“No, he can’t. He doesn’t have anyone to swap with since they’re short-handed, and Keith says that if Steve doesn’t show, he’s gonna lose his job.”

You frown, debating how many ways you can mess with Keith. Steve would be picking you up at prom, however, to take you over to his house to spend the night. But you’re not telling your mom that part of your plans.

“Well, that’s not fair.” Your mother pouts again, arguably more disappointed than you about not getting to go to prom with Steve.

“It’s not a big deal, mom.”

She scoffs at this, as if personally offended, and you just roll your eyes.

Even then you don’t really realize how important prom is for your mom and aunt Maggie until Saturday, the morning of prom, and you find out that they’ve set up appointments for you and Robin to get your hair and makeup done. And your nails. Despite both of them knowing how little you enjoy being helpless at the hands of strangers. Max tags along for moral support and after some convincing from the two older women, she decides to get a trim as well. It’s fun, even if your social battery is slowly wearing out.

Back at home, even though you had already spent most of the day being poked and prodded and covered in a cloud of hair spray, your mom and your aunt continue to dote on you and Robin. Your mom has already managed to go through an entire roll of film to document the process and has a fresh roll already in.

With Robin getting ready in the guest room, and your mom, aunt and Max having migrated to the living room, you finally have some time to yourself. You debate taking the time to call Steve at work but you decide against it, thinking that it would just make the two of you sad.

There’s a knock on the door as you put on the diamond earrings that your mom lent you for the occasion. Must be Vickie since you all agreed for her to pick you and Robin up in her car so that you can leave with Steve once his shift is done.  There’s some talking happening in the living and you hope that Robin is already done to save poor Vickie from your mom and aunt.

You give yourself a once-over in the mirror happy with the alterations to the dress. The high neckline makes the dress look modest from the front and you just hope Principal Higgins doesn’t see how the back of the dress is near nonexistent. You shove some items into the small black bag that your aunt had given you before pushing your stockinged feet into your black shoes.

Once last look in the mirror to make sure your lipstick is perfect, you leave your room to walk out into the living room. Only to find just your mom, your aunt and Max, all wearing big grins.

You tilt your head to the side. “I thought Vickie was already here?”

“Oh, they just left,” your aunt explains.

“Without me?” You’re confused, to put it lightly. Vickie was supposed to give you her second ticket since Robin already had one. “I mean, I guess I can drive there myself. Or maybe one of you can drive?”

“Or I can drive you.”

You’re surprised when Steve steps out of the kitchen and into the living room, looking impossibly handsome in a classic black tux and carrying small plastic container of what you assume to be a corsage.

“What are you doing here?” you ask once you're able to pick your jaw off the floor and Steve has walked up to you.

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Heard you needed a date tonight.”

“But how?”

“Well, someone conspired to get Family Video a new employee,” Steve explains to you. “The new employee also gave me these.”

He pulls out a pair of prom tickets.

You stare at them dumbfounded before you finally realize what he meant.

“Eddie?”

Steve nods, grinning. “Eddie,” he confirms.

You turn to your mom. “You had something to do with this.”

“Do you have any witnesses to corroborate your claim?” With a sparkle in her eye, your mom stands and gives you a tight hug. “What can I say? I just really wanted to get a good picture. So go stand over there so I can take as many as I want.”

“Before we do that…”

Steve opens the plastic container in his hand revealing a corsage made with dark red roses and black lace. You can’t help the pleased smile that settles on your lips and Steve gently pushes the elastic band around your wrist. You see the telltale flash coming from your mother’s camera.

“Wait, I don’t have one for you.”

You’re not at all surprised when your aunt somehow brandishes the exact match of your corsage as a boutonniere. Another flash goes off as you place it on the lapel of tuxedo jacket.

Steve smiles at you fondly as you make sure you’ve secured it properly.

“You look gorgeous, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, it runs in the family,” your aunt cheekily answers for you and you roll your eyes. “Now do the next pose.”

It takes your mom running out of film and then crying and then your aunt following suit and then calling your uncle on the phone to cry to him about how time flies or something, and you and Steve having to comfort them before they decide that they’re satisfied and you can leave.

“I’m really happy you were able to make it, Steve.” You tell him as you sit next to him in the car.

He reaches a hand over the console to place on your thigh. You can feel his warm fingers take advantage of the high slit of your dress and presses his fingertips against your skin. Then you feel when he makes contact with the lace band at the top of your black thigh-high stockings.

The amount of satisfaction you get when his breath hitches is immeasurable and your smile only grows as he searches to find the garter strap that clips into your stockings.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” he moans. “Tonight’s gonna be pure torture, isn’t it sweetheart?”

He looks at you with a pained expression and you merely smile at him innocently.

“To be fair, this was supposed to be for after prom.”

“Remind me to send Eddie a cake or something because if I had to wait until later to see you looking like this, I would have fucking hated myself.”

“Maybe we’ll leave early.”

“Maybe?”

…

“No one’s going to be able to tell.”

You’re trying your best to pin your hair back up and get your lipstick off of everything that isn’t your mouth. You grimace when your hair doesn’t cooperate with you quite the way you want.

“I look exactly like what everyone is going to think.”

“What’s that?”

You stare at your boyfriend. “What do you think?”

“You look like your boyfriend made you cum twice in the backseat of his car.” There’s no getting through to Steve when he’s looking this smug.

You find another errant hair pin in the fluff that is your hair and you use it to hold your hair in place and you’re finally satisfied with how you look.

“I look fine, right?” you ask for reassurance.

“Ravishing.”

You roll your eyes. “Pretty sure you took care of the ravishing part.”

“You look perfect, sweetheart.”

"So do you," you tell him honestly.

He kisses your forehead before getting out the car and coming around to your side to open the door for you.

“My lady,” he says in fake British accent when he offers you his hand.

You laugh as you take his hand. “You’re such a dofus.”

Grinning, Steve tucks your hand into his arm and leads you the direction of the gym. The gym is oddly decorated. You were told the theme would be “Don’t You Forget About Me” because in a small town like Hawkins where nothing ever happens, The Breakfast Club coming out last year was a very big deal. But you’re not sure how anyone who didn’t have knowledge of the theme would be able to tell from the generic decorations found around the gym.

People are scattered around the gym, sitting at tables or on the dance floor while the DJ is playing something from Wham! There is an inappropriate amount of pink dresses in the sea of teenagers, no doubt all trying to embody Molly Ringwald. And Principal Higgins is busy making sure that amorous couples are a respectable distance from each other, only for them to go back to their indecent distance once he walks away.

“Looks like Principal Higgins just recycled all the prom decorations from all the previous years,” Steve murmurs into your ear.

“What was the theme of senior prom last year?”

“Time After Time,” he tells you, making a sweeping gesture with his palm in the air. “So romantical.”

It feels surreal to be at prom, in a place you previously didn’t feel or want to occupy. But Steve makes it easy. People who you’ve barely talked to in the last four years of high school come up to say hi and compliment your dress and in the moments that your social awkwardness kicks in, Steve is there to say the right things. He notices when you’ve deflated a little, not in a sad way but in a balloon that needs more air and he’ll take you by the elbow to steer you to some quiet little corner, to hold your hand and be quiet with you. And you don’t have to tell him, he just knows.

Sometimes, he’ll pull towards the dance floor and does a silly dance so you don’t feel too self-conscious because the last time you danced in front of people ended in such a disaster and your mind races sometimes with thoughts like how much you stick out like a sore thumb. Might not necessarily be true, but pokes at your fears all the same. It is while you’re dancing that someone comes over and taps on Steve’s shoulder.

“Jonathan,” Steve says in surprise when he turns around. “Hey, man.”

Jonathan looks nice in his tuxedo, although it does look to be maybe a size or two too big on him. Like this was a last-minute decision of his to come. His usual mop of hair is tamed into something more suited to the occasion but he looks a little sheepish as he regards the two of you.

Not too far behind Jonathan, you can see Nancy walk up to the two of you as well as Steve and Jonathan share an awkward handshake.

“I just wanted to say hi and, uh…” Jonathan seems to be grappling with his words and resorts to using desperate hand gestures to fill in the spaces.

“Thank you? Nancy, she… she told me that you told her to give me another chance.” You watch with a small smile as he reaches for Nancy’s hand and squeezes it tight and share a sweet look. “I appreciate it.”

Steve nods and claps Jonathan on the back. “Nah, man. You two are good for each other. Just needed to be reminded of that.

You wrap your arm around Steve’s waist, and he grins down at you. “Actually, you probably already know each other, but this is my girlfriend.”

You realize, in that moment, that this is Steve’s first time introducing you as his girlfriend. But it’s the way he says it, full of pride, showing you off, like a kindergartener sharing his prized possession during show-and-tell. It fills you with a tenderness that you’ve come to associate with just Steve. He’s the only one that can elicit such emotions from you, and you are more than okay with that.

Jonathan shakes your hand and Nancy gives you a pretty smile.

“You look nice, Nancy,” you tell her kindly and you mean it. She’s wearing a cute lilac dress that looks lovely against her complexion.

She returns the compliment before she and Jonathan tell you to enjoy your night and they walk into the crowd on.

“That felt surreal,” Steve murmurs as he wraps his arms around you. “Jonathan and I, we… well, we never really got along that well.”

“Being in love with the same girl will do it,” you snicker as you bring your arms up to his neck.

“Which is why, being in love with this girl is so much easier.”

You pretend to look around for someone. “Which girl? I can be an amazing wing woman, you know!”

Your heart swims in warmth when he rolls his eyes and grins down at you. “Not that I doubt your capabilities, but I think I’m happy exactly where I am.”

“Good,” you say, as you press your cheek against his cheek as you rock to the music of Phil Collins, “Because I have no plans of letting go.”

Which turns out to be untrue not fifteen minutes later when you need to get to the girls’ bathroom. You leave Steve by the refreshments table where a couple of his former swim team buddies have struck up a conversation with him. It’s only after you’ve successfully relieved yourself that you finally run into Robin who is all smiles and a flurry of baby blue as she practically runs into the bathroom.

“Hi!” she says to you before running into the stall you just freed up. Through the bathroom stall door, she attempts to continue the conversation. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you and Steve.”

You seriously doubt that. You and Steve both knew where she was for the most part, but her and Vickie were so wrapped up in each other that you decided to just leave them alone and just be there for Robin if in case things don’t pan out the way any of you hoped.

“We’ve been around. King Steve’s reappearance in Hawkins High is interesting to some people, I guess.”

The toilet flushes before the door swings open and Robin comes back out to wash her hands.

“Yeah, the beginning of the school year was weird as Steve’s best friend. Everyone kept asking if we were going out.”

You shrug. “That’s because you’re too friendly, Robin.”

“I’m just friendly enough, thank you.” She smiles, mostly to herself as she dries her hands.

“You having fun?”

You watch in the mirror as Robin’s reflection turns a deep pink.

“Yeah… thanks again for… all this.”

“Anytime.”

Robin turns around to face you and before you can say anything, she gives you a tight hug.

“I promise that if you and Steve ever break up, you’re the one that gets to keep me.”

“Is this a bribe for me to never break up with Steve?”

She releases you then. “I’m going to be honest and tell you that I’m too happy to be offended.”

The two of you laugh and walk arm-in-arm as you make your way back to the gym.

Unfortunately, your return to the gym also means that you catch an overzealous girl in a bright turquoise dress walk up to your boyfriend who now stands alone drinking a sad cup of punch. The girl is quick to sidle up to him, arms pressed together to emphasize her breasts, and you really want to slap the flirty look off her face. Steve looks down at her, rolls his eyes, and mutters something that makes the girl first pause and then look dejected and quickly walk away.

Something blooms in you then, and it isn’t just satisfaction. Not completely.

And whatever it is, is going to get Steve Harrington laid tonight.

Or more laid. If that is at all possible.

…

The thing about having a night go exactly the way you want also means that you inevitably are just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Which is an unfortunate conundrum because when things go south, your first thought is that you wish you hadn’t been thinking about it at all.

It comes just as you are finally exiting the gym. They had just called out prom king and queen, and to no one’s surprise, Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham win. More than half the prom goers are still inside, bouncing along to Madonna, but you and Steve are entirely too worked up from a night of touching each other but not quite feeling.

You spot Jonathan and Nancy, both sitting on top of the hood of her car, laughing while they share what appears to be a can of Pringles between them. And you think that maybe you really had nothing to worry about with Nancy. And maybe it would have been nice to have gotten to know her a bit more if you had the chance.

You’ve barely stepped onto the pavement of the parking lot when someone calls out your name. Yells it with a slight slur in the speech that lets you know whoever it is likely snuck some alcohol in.

Steve is the one that turns first and instinctively positions you behind him.

Shrouded in the darkness, Andy pushes himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against and stumbles into the glow of one of the exterior lights. His bowtie hangs limply around his neck, and his dress shirt is half-tucked with the first buttons undone.

A shiver of fear overtakes you, memories of the way he had grabbed you that night immediately running through your mind. You know nothing is going to happen. Steve won’t let it. But that still doesn’t erase the memories from your brain, and it’s created an automatic response in you.

You’re not sure why Andy is trying to get to you now, after weeks of successfully ignoring each other. As far as the rest of the school is concerned, nothing happened. Only a few people having witnessed his transgressions. And the rest of the school was left to wonder about how Andy broke his nose.

But now, during prom, there are more people, more curious onlookers that were about to get into their respective cars that are now stopping to see what’s going on.

“You should head back inside, Harper,” Steve tells him firmly. “Sober up before you drive, man.”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Harrington.”

“Just a suggestion, dude.”

Steve places his hand on your lower back and starts back in the direction of the beamer. “Let’s go, sweetheart. Just ignore him,” he tells you and you obediently follow him.

“Don’t walk away from me!” Andy yells.

“Just keep walking, sweetheart.”

You nod and keep pace with Steve until you’re almost to the car.

“You’re a fucking loser, Harrington. Former prom king Steve Harrington, everyone. Just basking in his former glory because he’s just a pathetic has-been who peaked in high school.”

You crane your neck and see Andy’s arrogant face looking triumphant.

The thing that you’re finding out about yourself is that you don’t particularly care if someone says anything cruel about you.

But if they say something about someone you care about?

Well, then.

It’s safe to say they will die.

Any previous fear you held at the mere idea of Andy Harper is immediately replaced by pure hatred. You step away from Steve and manage to make it halfway to Andy before your boyfriend can stop you with a hand on your arm.

“Don’t do anything rash, sweetheart. We’re on school property and you’re close to graduation. Wouldn’t want you to put that in jeopardy.”

Good point.

But before you can respond, Steve shrugs his tuxedo jacket off and hands it to you. When he starts unbuttoning the sleeves of his dress shirt, which admittedly you adore the slow reveal of his forearms, you roll your eyes and shove his jacket back into his arms.

“I’m pretty sure that Andy isn’t eighteen yet, Steve. If you beat him up, that’s gonna be worse as someone who is a legal adult,” you argue. “I’m a girl, I can always claim self-defense.”

Steve considers this for a moment before shaking his head. “He would have to attempt some type of assault for that to work and I’m not going to let it get that far.”

You both stare at each other, both weighing out your options until you’re interrupted by Jonathan who jogs up to you, Nancy not far behind him.

“Are you two debating who is going to beat up Andy?!” Jonathan yells, and he’s looking at you two like you’re crazy. And just so you have no doubts as to his feelings about what’s going on, he voices them. “Are you guys crazy?”

“Yes,” Steve and you respond in unison.

Andy appears to have realized what is going on and has had enough time for his brain to catch up to his mouth. Because his eyes go a little wide before he starts scurrying back to the gym.

You’re a little disappointed at this and when you turn to Steve, he appears to share your sentiments.

“Hey, you guys wanna go grab some burgers and milkshakes with me and Jonathan?” Nancy offers.

You smile at her. “Sure!”

…

Read Part Eight here