#romanctic

Hamza × Uzair

This is really very random 🙄

• Hamza was leaning over the kitchen counter, reaching for a glass on the top shelf. He was wearing a shirt so oversized and thin that the neckline slid entirely off one shoulder, exposing the sharp line of his collarbone and a generous, teasing view of his chest.

Uzair walked in and froze. The air in the room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. He didn't say a word; he just walked up behind Hamza, his hands sliding firmly around Hamza’s waist to pull him back against his chest.

"You're doing this on purpose," Uzair muttered, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly territory. He reached forward, his fingers grazing the skin of Hamza’s chest as he hooked two fingers into the collar of the shirt, pulling it even wider for a moment just to look.

"Doing what?" Hamza whispered, though his breath hitched when he felt Uzair’s lips brush against the shell of his ear.

"This. Walking around like an invitation," Uzair growled, his hand flattening against Hamza’s bare skin, feeling the frantic thump of his heart. "If you think you're leaving the house looking like this , barely covered, chest out for the world to see you’ve lost your mind. I’m either pinning this shirt shut or I’m taking it off you and keeping you in this bed all weekend."

Hamza turned in his arms, a playful, heated look in his eyes. "And what if I don't want to wear the pins?"

Uzair’s grip tightened, his gaze dropping to Hamza’s mouth. "Then you'd better get comfortable, because you aren't making it past the front door."

• Uzair walked into the bedroom looking for his charger, only to find Hamza mid-outfit change. Hamza, startled, immediately crossed his arms over his chest, clutching a stray t-shirt like a Victorian maiden.

"Oh, please," Uzair scoffed, leaning against the doorframe. "Why are you covering up? I’ve seen more of you than your own doctor has."

"It’s the principle, Uzair! You didn't knock!" Hamza squeaked, retreating toward the closet. "I feel exposed. My eyes are up here!"

"And your chest is currently being crushed by your own arms," Uzair laughed. "Relax, you're not that special. Okay, maybe a little. But put a shirt on before you pull a muscle trying to hide your 'assets'."

• Hamza came home from a workout, his shirt drenched and clinging to every curve of his torso. He was shamelessly fanning himself with the hem, lifting it up and down.

Uzair walked into the kitchen, took one look at the display, and immediately turned around to walk back out.

"Where are you going?" Hamza called out, grinning.

"To find a bucket of cold water to dump on you," Uzair’s voice echoed from the hallway. "Or a veil. Honestly, Hamza, have some shame. Some of us are trying to live in a holy household."

So shout out to movie and spy master LOL (lots of love)

*The submitter is aware that this also depends on how each couple sets their boundaries. They're just curious as to what your opinion on this is, whether or not you're single, whether or not you're interested in dating and romance at all

Chapter 1

"Noor beta, itna bagho mat, acha chalo phir. Mein tere saree rasgulle khalungi aur phir tum roti rehna".

"Ammii....." the bubbly voice of the now sixteen year old Meera Roy Noor Malik echoed through the kitchen of the Malik haveli as she ran away from her adopted mother. Hira malik ran behind her eldest daughter, clutching a tiffen box.

"Noor itna tamasha mat karo na beta, kal khalo na bayview mein, aaj toh meine banaliya na khana. " "Ammi par mein ne toh kal hi kaha tha na ki mein Amna aur Yalina ke saath wahan lunch keliye jaa rahi hun.."

"Aree subha subha maa beti itna shor kyun macha rahe ho? Noor beta tum toh aaj jao yalina aur amna ke saath wahan lunch keliye aur yeh khana mujhe dedo mere biwi ke haath se khana kaa ke itne sare din hue hai"

Akhtar malik's voice rang through the kitchen of the haveli as he watched his eldest daughter run from her mother. For years Hira and Akhtar had been childless. Until they stumbled upon little Noor, she was the light and joy of their lives. She was their saviour. A girl with a heart of gold and a mind so sharp. Immediately the next year after they had found Noor, Hira gave birth to his youngest, Ridha. Akhtar was thankful to his god for blessing him with such a perfect family.Looking at his once heartbroken wife filled with joy and happiness, he knew, for all the power in the world Akhtar would never trade all this. He knew he was a sinner, yet the sin of snatching another man's child had become his salvation.

Hi✨, hope you guys like it also there are a few more parts of backstory before the story actually starts, then the chapters will get longer. Please comment and let me know how it is. 💙

Blair was sitting on the cold kitchen floor, her back pressed against the cabinets, knees drawn to her chest.

The pill bottle felt heavier than it should have in her hands.

She stared at it like it was something foreign—like it didn’t belong to her, like it hadn’t been hers to open. The cap lay beside her on the tiles. A few pills had rolled away, resting near the leg of the table.

She didn’t know how many she’d taken. She hadn’t counted.

Her hands were shaking now, fingers numb, the room tilting just slightly to the left. Her head felt thick, cottony, like her thoughts were swimming through fog. Every sound seemed too loud—her own breathing, the faint hum of the fridge, the ticking clock on the wall.

In. Out.

She forced herself to breathe slowly, deeply, pressing her palm flat against the floor to ground herself.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

Her chest hurt—not sharp pain, but pressure. Like something heavy was sitting right on her ribs.

Tears slipped down her cheeks silently, one after another, dripping onto her jeans.

“Not again,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please… not again.”

She couldn’t believe this was happening. That they were here again. Monsters. Secrets. Fear curling in her stomach like a living thing.

Last year had almost destroyed them.

And now—now it was starting all over.

If El were here, Blair thought bitterly, hugging herself tighter, this wouldn’t feel so impossible. Eleven would know what to do. She always did. She would fix it.

But Eleven was gone.

Her brother had shoved the demogorgon into the shed with shaking hands and wild eyes, talking too fast, saying something about reinforcements before bolting out the door.

And Blair had been left behind.

Alone with her thoughts. Alone with the fear.

Her vision blurred again, and she swiped angrily at her face, smearing tears across her skin.

“I can’t do this,” she murmured. “I can’t—”

Voices.

Her head snapped up.

Two voices—muffled, just outside the house.

Her heart leapt into her throat.

Blair scrambled to her feet, nearly slipping, dizziness crashing over her like a wave. She grabbed the counter to steady herself, wiped her face with the sleeve of her hoodie, and forced her breathing to slow.

The front door opened.

“Blair?”

Dustin stood there, clutching an absurdly bright bouquet of red roses. His curls were damp with sweat, his face pale beneath the freckles.

Beside him—Steve.

Steve Harrington, gripping his nail-studded bat like it was an extension of his arm.

Dustin’s eyes widened the second he saw her. “Whoa. Hey—are you okay?”

Steve didn’t hesitate.

He crossed the distance in three strides, his expression softening instantly. He lifted a hand, gently brushing his thumb beneath her eye, wiping away a tear she hadn’t realized was still there.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Blair swallowed hard and nodded once. “I’m fine.”

Steve searched her face, clearly unconvinced.

She met his gaze, forcing steadiness into her voice. “Let’s just… finish this.”

Dustin looked between them, eyes narrowing slightly, the way they always did when he was about to say something unnecessary. Then he stepped forward and shoved the bouquet into Blair’s arms.

“I ran into Steve on the way here,” he said quickly. “Figured… you know. Backup.”

He paused. Looked at the two of them again. Really looked.

“…Also,” he added, lowering his voice just a bit, “I figured if the world is ending again, might as well bring emotional backup too.”

Blair blinked. “Emotional—what?”

Dustin shrugged. “You know. Him.” He pointed vaguely at Steve. “Your… personal crisis Harrington.”

Steve shifted uncomfortably, jaw tightening. “I’m standing right here.”

“Exactly,” Dustin said, nodding. “See? Works already.”

Blair snorted despite herself, hugging the roses awkwardly. “Dustin—”

“What?” he said innocently. “I’m just saying, every time one of you shows up, the other one isn’t far behind. It’s like a law of nature. Gravity. Demogorgons. Steve-and-Blair.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s not a thing.”

“Oh, it’s very a thing,” Dustin replied. 

Blair muttered. “That’s not comforting.”

“I don’t know where the others are,” Dustin continued, suddenly more serious. “No sign of them anywhere.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah. Same here.”

Dustin squinted at him. “You came armed.”

Steve lifted the bat slightly. “I came prepared.”

“For monsters,” Dustin clarified. Then smirked. “Or awkward emotional situations.”

Blair’s cheeks warmed. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Oh, I can stop,” Dustin said. “But I just want it on record that if we die today, I called it. The unresolved tension. The meaningful eye contact. The fact that Steve showed up with flowers—”

Steve sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Dustin. Focus.”

“I am focused,” Dustin insisted. “Focused on survival. And closure. Preferably in that order.”

Blair shot Steve a look. “You okay?”

Steve hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Just… let’s deal with the monster first. Then we can—” He gestured vaguely. “Talk about whatever this is.”

Dustin clapped his hands once. “Great! Monster first. Emotional trauma later. Classic us.”

He pointed toward the back of the house. “Shed’s still back there, right?”

Blair nodded, setting the bouquet down carefully on the table. “Yeah.”

Dustin watched her do it, then leaned closer to Steve, lowering his voice just enough to be annoying.

“For the record,” he whispered loudly, “if one of you dies, the other one is going to be devastated. Just saying.”

Steve shot him a look. “You’re not helping.”

Dustin smiled, satisfied. “I know.”

Then Blair turned toward the back door.

“The shed’s out back,” she said. “Come on.”

Steve followed immediately.

The shed loomed at the edge of the property, dark and silent.

Dustin and Steve slowed as they reached it.

Dustin swallowed. “This is it.”

Steve tilted his head, listening.

“…I don’t hear shit,” he muttered.

“He’s in there,” Dustin said firmly.

Steve tapped the door with his bat.

Nothing.

He hit it harder.

Still nothing.

“I swear,” Steve said tightly, “if this is some Halloween prank, you’re dead. You got a key for this thing?”

Dustin dug into his pocket, fingers trembling. He hesitated before handing it over.

“…Just,” he said quietly, “make it quick.”

“Key,” Steve repeated.

Dustin passed it to him.

Steve unlocked the door. It creaked open slowly.

Steve stood frozen, bat raised.

Nothing happened.

Dustin squinted. “He must be further down there. I’ll stay up here—in case he tries to escape.”

Steve exhaled through his nose, jaw tight. He turned to Blair. “You stay up here too. Please.”

Before she could answer, Dustin added, “Yeah. I’ll stay. You shouldn’t—”

“No,” Blair said immediately.

Both of them turned to her.

“I’m not letting you go down there alone,” she said, voice shaking but firm.

Steve hesitated. Then nodded once.

He started down the steps.

Blair followed instantly, grabbing his hand.

He squeezed back without looking at her, subtly shifting so his body was in front of hers—protective, deliberate.

The stairs creaked under Steve’s sneakers.

It was dark. Too quiet.

Steve reached the bottom and flipped the switch.

A fluorescent light buzzed to life, flickering weakly.

Steve stepped forward, eyes narrowing.

He knelt.

Blair felt her stomach drop.

A heap of dead skin floated in a puddle of mucus.

Steve lifted it with his bat. The skin unfolded.

Big.

Really big.

“Oh God,” Blair whispered.

Steve’s skepticism drained away, replaced with real fear.

“…The hell?” he murmured.

Above them, Dustin’s voice echoed, tight with panic. “Steve? Blair? What’s going on?”

No answer.

Seconds stretched.

Then Steve reappeared at the stairs. “Get down here.”

Dustin rushed in, eyes immediately locking on the skin.

“Oh Jesus—”

“Over here,” Steve said.

He pointed to the far wall.

A massive, mastiff-sized hole gaped in the concrete.

“…No way,” Dustin breathed. “No way.”

Dustin knelt to inspect it.

Blair stayed pressed to Steve’s side, still holding his hand.

Steve didn’t let go.

Not for a second.

The three of them stood in the shed for a moment longer, the flickering light buzzing overhead, the dead skin still hanging from Steve’s bat like a warning they weren’t ready to face yet.

Dustin was the first to break the silence.

“…Okay,” he said slowly, straightening up. “Hear me out. Giant interdimensional lizard thing that’s clearly growing? Terrifying. Horrible. Very rude of it.”

Steve glanced at him. “Get to the point.”

“My point,” Dustin continued, “is that it’s late, we’re exhausted, and none of us are in peak ‘monster-hunting’ condition. So maybe—just maybe—we don’t go crawling through murder tunnels tonight.”

Blair exhaled shakily. “Morning would be better.”

Steve nodded, relief mixing with worry. “Yeah. Daylight. Clear heads.”

Dustin snapped his fingers. “Exactly. Look at us, making smart decisions. Growth.”

Then he turned to Steve, grin slowly spreading across his face.

“So,” he added casually, “since it’s late… why don’t you just stay over?”

Steve blinked. “What?”

Dustin wiggled his eyebrows. “You know. Sleep here. For safety.” He leaned in closer and stage-whispered, “And because Blair gets nightmares. And you’re very good at… comfort.”

Blair groaned. “Dustin.”

“What? I’m being practical,” he said, then shot Steve a wink. “Plus, I’ve seen you two. You already act like an old married couple.”

Steve scoffed. “We do not.”

“Oh please,” Dustin said. “You literally showed up with a bat and flowers. That’s boyfriend behavior.”

Steve muttered, “I was invited.”

Blair crossed her arms, trying—and failing—not to smile. “You’re impossible.”

Dustin stepped back toward the ladder. “Anyway. I’m going inside before something in here decides to eat me. You two… sort things out.” He paused, pointing between them. “Preferably with less staring.”

Then he climbed out of the shed, humming to himself.

Silence settled again.

Steve realized then that Blair was still holding his hand.

Her fingers were warm. Steady now.

She noticed too.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, she loosened her grip and pulled her hand away.

“I—” she started, then stopped. “You can… come inside. I’ve got clothes you can borrow.”

Steve nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. Okay.”

She turned and walked out first.

Steve stayed behind for a moment.

The shed felt smaller now. He leaned the bat against the wall and ran a hand through his hair, heart pounding—not from fear this time, but from everything else. The kiss. The flowers. The way she’d held his hand like it was instinct.

I’m not done, he thought. Not with her.

Then he followed her inside.

Upstairs, Blair was pulling fresh sheets over the bed when Steve appeared in the doorway.

He hesitated. “I can sleep on the floor. I don’t want to make things… weird.”

She glanced at him. “Steve.”

Before she could finish, Dustin popped his head in.

“Oh my God,” he said dramatically. “Don’t be stupid. You’ve slept in the same bed more times than—” He paused. “—than I’ve failed math. Which is saying something.”

“OUT,” Blair snapped, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him.

Dustin dodged it easily. “If I hear weird noises, I’m blaming you, Harrington.”

“Goodnight, Dustin,” Steve said flatly.

Dustin grinned. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the demodogs bite.” And vanished.

Blair laughed, shaking her head. She climbed into bed and looked at Steve expectantly.

He joined her a moment later.

They lay facing each other, a careful distance between them.

Blair hesitated. “The flowers…”

Steve closed his eyes briefly. “They were for you. To… make up for the other night. For the kiss. I shouldn’t have crossed that line.”

Her heart sped up. “I—”

“They’re your favorites,” he added quietly. “I remembered.”

She nodded, voice soft. “Thank you.”

“I know,” he said.

They fell quiet after that.

Blair drifted off first.

Steve watched her long after, memorizing the gentle rise of her chest, the way her hair fell across her cheek, the peace she only seemed to find when he was near.

Eventually, sleep claimed him too.

Morning light filtered through the curtains.

Blair woke up warm.

Confused.

Then she realized—Steve’s arms were around her, protective and gentle, like they’d always been.

She didn’t move.

The door burst open.

“RISE AND SHINE,” Dustin announced. “We’ve got a monster to hunt.”

Blair groaned. “Dustin, I swear to God—”

She sat up, hair a mess, glaring daggers. “If I die today, it’ll be because you woke me up like that.”

Steve laughed softly behind her.

Dustin smirked. “Worth it.”

And just like that, the day began.

Dustin’s voice echoed from downstairs, sharp and impatient. “I’ll be in the kitchen,” he shouted. “And if you two take more than five minutes, I’m starting without you.”

Blair rolled her eyes while Steve let out a quiet laugh. When the door closed, the room filled with an awkward silence. They turned their backs to each other almost instinctively and began to get dressed. The air felt too thick, too full of things neither of them knew how to say. Steve pulled on his jeans and hoodie quickly, hands moving faster than his thoughts. He finished first.

Without thinking too much about it, he turned slightly—and froze.

Blair’s back was still bare.

His breath caught painfully in his chest. Her skin was exactly as he remembered it, pale and warm, scattered with the same tiny moles he used to trace with his fingers when they were together. His mind betrayed him instantly, flashing images of kisses pressed along her spine, of her soft laughter when he lingered too long. His heart started pounding so hard he thought she might hear it.

Steve turned away immediately, facing the wall like it was the safest thing in the world.

When Blair finished dressing, she turned toward him, unaware of the moment she’d just caused. “You ready?” she asked softly.

Steve nodded without turning around. “Yeah.”

“Wait outside for a second,” she said.

He did, stepping into the hallway and dragging in a slow breath.

Inside the room, Blair knelt by her bed, lifted a loose floorboard, and took out the pistol hidden underneath. She slipped it into the waistband of her pants, adjusted her shirt to hide it, then headed downstairs.

In the kitchen, Dustin was aggressively adjusting his walkie headset, clearly annoyed. Lucas stood across from him, arms crossed, looking confused and slightly alarmed.

“Well, well,” Dustin said when he noticed Blair and Steve, his mouth curling into a grin. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Lucas opened his mouth. “Sorry, my stupid sister—”

“Yeah, yeah, while you were busy with family drama,” Dustin interrupted, “Dart grew again, escaped, and—minor detail—he’s a baby Demogorgon now.”

Lucas stared at him, completely stunned. “Wait… what?”

“I’ll explain later,” Dustin said quickly, already pulling on a pair of bright yellow dish gloves. “Just meet me, Steve, and Blair at the old junkyard.”

Lucas blinked. “Wait. Steve?”

“And bring your binoculars and your wrist-rocket,” Dustin continued.

“Steve Harrington?” Lucas insisted.

Steve slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s move.”

“Just be there. Stat,” Dustin said, pressing the button on the walkie. “Over and out.”

He turned back to Blair and Steve, who were standing close without quite touching. Blair broke the moment first. “We need to lure Dart,” she said firmly. “He won’t just show up on his own.”

“With what?” Dustin asked.

Blair didn’t hesitate. “Food.”

Dustin practically bounced. “Meat.”

At the butcher’s, Blair and Steve ordered far more meat than should have been reasonable. Dustin stayed in the car, watching through the window like a kid waiting for candy. Steve carried the bags out and dumped them into the trunk along with his spiked bat, the gas can, the yellow gloves, and the buckets.

As they drove toward the forest, Dustin leaned forward between the seats. “I know a place,” he said confidently. “Old junkyard. Lots of places to hide. Dart will love it.”

Blair nodded immediately. “If you think it’ll work, I trust you.”

Dustin smiled, then turned his attention to Steve. “So,” he said casually, “how’d you sleep? Because you looked really comfortable this morning. Like… Blair-glued-to-your-chest comfortable.”

Blair groaned. “Dustin.”

Dustin glanced sideways at Steve with a grin that promised trouble. “You drool,” he added casually.

Steve shot him a look. “I do not.”

“Oh, you absolutely do,” Dustin said, nodding to himself. “Like, full commitment. Mouth open. Zero shame.”

“That is a lie,” Steve replied. “I sleep like a normal person.”

Dustin snorted. “Normal people don’t make little choking noises and clutch pillows like they’re life rafts.”

Steve scoffed. “I was congested.”

“You were not congested,” Dustin shot back. “You were having a dream.”

Steve stopped walking. “I was not.”

“I have witnesses.”

Steve crossed his arms. “Name one.”

Dustin didn’t even hesitate. “Me. Also the blanket. It was soaked.”

“That was sweat,” Steve said weakly.

“From what, wrestling yourself?” Dustin grinned wider. “Because let me tell you, you were smiling.”

Blair turned around. “Okay, I don’t want details, but I also kind of do.”

Steve groaned. “Please don’t encourage him.”

Dustin pointed at Steve triumphantly. “See? Guilty reaction.”

“I am begging you to stop talking,” Steve muttered.

“Nope,” Dustin said cheerfully. “You were all protective and cozy and had your arm around my sister like—” he gestured vaguely, “—like one of those stupid romance movies Mom watches.”

Steve’s ears turned red. “She was cold.”

Blair crossed her arms. “I wasn’t cold.”

Dustin snapped his fingers. “Boom. Case closed.”

Steve rubbed his face. “I hate both of you.”

“Liar,” Dustin said. “You love me. Especially when I catch you drooling in your sleep.”

“I did not drool.”

Dustin leaned closer. “Blink twice if the pillow can testify.”

Steve shoved him lightly. “Shut up. Now.”

Dustin laughed, jogging ahead. “Just saying—best sleep of your life, right?”

Steve didn’t answer, but Blair caught the small smile he tried—and failed—to hide.

Steve glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “I will abandon you in the forest.”

They parked near the trees and pulled on the yellow gloves. The smell of raw meat hit them instantly as Steve grabbed the first bucket and began tossing chunks onto the ground while walking forward. Dustin followed, mimicking him enthusiastically.

Steve broke the silence. “So let me get this straight,” he said. “You kept something you knew was probably dangerous just to impress a girl you’d just met?”

Blair stopped walking and turned slowly to Dustin, raising an eyebrow. “You did what?”

Dustin winced. “Okay, that’s grossly oversimplifying it.”

“Why would any girl like some nasty slug?” Steve continued.

“An interdimensional slug,” Dustin corrected. “And because it’s awesome.”

Steve sighed. “You’re trying way too hard.”

“Well, not all of us have your stupid perfect hair,” Dustin snapped.

“It’s not about the hair,” Steve said. “The trick with girls is acting like you don’t care.”

Blair scoffed. “That’s terrible advice.”

Steve glanced at her. “Worked on you.”

She rolled her eyes, cheeks warming.

“Even when you do care?” Dustin asked.

“Especially then,” Steve replied. “Drives them crazy.”

Dustin frowned. “Okay… then what?”

“You wait until you feel it.”

“Feel what?”

Steve tossed more meat onto the ground, then glanced ahead at Blair, silently asking for a moment alone with her brother. Blair caught it and walked a little faster, pretending not to hear.

“It’s like before a storm,” Steve said quietly. “You can’t see it, but the air feels… charged. Like electricity.”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Sexual electricity.”

“Exactly.”

“And then you kiss her?”

“Slow down, Romeo,” Steve said. “Some people want bold. Others need slow. Careful. Like a ninja.”

Dustin thought about it. “What type is Blair?”

Steve didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his voice was softer. “Blair’s different. She feels everything deeply. When she lets someone in, it actually means something.”

Blair’s heart skipped, even from a distance.

“She’s special,” Dustin said. Then he smiled sweetly. “And if you hurt her again, I will absolutely kill you. Lightly. With a shovel.”

Steve snorted. “Fair.”

“I think this girl’s special too,” Dustin added.

Steve shot him a look. “You’re not falling in love, are you?”

“What? No.”

“Good. You’re too young for heartbreak.”

They walked in silence for a moment before Steve sighed. “Screw it. Fabergé.”

Dustin blinked. “What?”

Steve launched into the explanation about shampoo, conditioner, Farrah Fawcett spray. Dustin listened like it was sacred wisdom.

“You tell anyone,” Steve warned, “you’re dead.”

“Totally,” Dustin said.

Blair turned to check if they were done whispering behind her. She caught Dustin grinning at her like he knew something she didn’t, and before she could ask, he picked up the pace, almost skipping ahead, deliberately putting distance between himself and Steve.

Blair slowed down instead, letting Steve fall into step beside her. The forest was quiet except for the crunch of leaves and the wet sound of meat hitting the ground as they tossed it along the path.

She glanced at him sideways, lips curling into a knowing smile. “So,” she said lightly, “what were you two talking about back there?”

Steve didn’t look at her. He focused very hard on scooping another handful of raw meat from the bucket and flinging it ahead of them. “Nothing.”

Blair hummed. “Funny. Because Dustin looked way too proud for it to be nothing.”

Steve shrugged. “He’s always proud. It’s his default state.”

She laughed softly and nudged him with her elbow. “Come on. You can tell me.”

“Nope.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not even a hint?”

Steve finally looked at her, jaw set. “Absolutely not.”

Blair slowed again, forcing him to stop too. “Steve,” she said, dragging out his name, “you were back there whispering like a pair of middle-school girls. You don’t get to pretend it was nothing.”

He sighed, clearly battling with himself. “It was… educational.”

Her smile widened. “Educational how?”

He pointed his bucket forward. “Eyes on the demogorgon bait.”

She ignored him. “Was it about me?”

Steve froze for half a second. Just long enough.

Blair noticed. Of course she did. “It was about me.”

“No,” he said quickly. “Okay—maybe partly. But I’m not discussing it.”

“Why not?”

“Because,” he said, flustered now, “some conversations are… classified.”

She laughed. “Classified. Wow. That bad, huh?”

Steve shot her a look. “Drop it.”

She studied his face—how tense he was, how his ears were turning red—and suddenly something clicked. Her smile turned slow and mischievous.

“Oh,” she said softly. “Oh.”

Steve’s stomach dropped. “Don’t.”

She tilted her head. “Did you give my little brother advice?”

“No.”

“About girls?”

“No.”

“About hair?”

Steve groaned. “Stop talking.”

Blair laughed openly now. “Oh my God, you did.”

“I said drop it.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Did you seriously coach Dustin on romance?”

“I will leave you here,” he warned.

She grinned wider. “Did you tell him your secrets, Harrington?”

He muttered, “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

She stopped walking, turned fully toward him, eyes sparkling. “Very well,” she said sweetly. “Fabergé.”

Steve went completely still.

Slowly, painfully, he turned to look at her. His face flushed red. “He told you.”

“No,” Blair said innocently. “But you just did.”

He stared at her, horrified. “I am going to kill him.”

She laughed and took a step back toward Dustin, calling over her shoulder, “Four puffs, right? The same routine as always”

“BLAIR.”

She was already walking faster now, catching up to her brother, still smiling to herself.