#stevestrangerthings

He felt safe. That was until the warmth disappeared. 

Steve’s eyes immediately snapped open as if his body knew something was off, his suspicions grew to be true when he turned to face you only for your side of the bed to be empty. 

The room was dark, quiet, wrong.

“...Y/n?” His voice came out rough, thick with sleep.

No answer.

Steve pushed himself up immediately, heart already picking up speed. His hand swept across the sheets, searching cold. Empty.

That familiar flicker of panic crept in, fast and unwelcome.

“Hey—” he tried again, louder this time, swinging his legs off the bed.

The bathroom light clicked on.

Steve froze.

A second later, the door cracked open and you stepped out, blinking at him, confused. “Steve? What are you doing, why are you up?”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for minutes, shoulders dropping all at once. “Jesus, don’t do that.”

You frowned, stepping closer. “Do what, baby? I just went to the bathroom.”

“I woke up and you were gone,” he said, like that explained everything. Like it should explain everything.

You studied him then really looked into the pits of his deep brown eyes. His hair was a mess, his eyes still hazy with sleep but wide, alert. There was something else there too. Something softer. Something a little scared.

“Oh,” you said quietly when you realized. 

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious about the whole situation. “It’s stupid, I just…my brain goes, like, immediately to the worst-case scenario now. It’s a whole thing.” he confessed, now looking down at his feet in embarrassment rather than looking at you. 

“It’s not stupid,” you said gently, tilting his head to look at you instead. 

He huffed a small laugh. “Yeah, well, tell that to me at three in the morning when I’m ready to fight a demogorgon or something because you took a two-minute bathroom break.” he scoffs at himself. He felt silly now for being so dramatic about this. 

That got a small smile out of you.

You stepped between his knees where he sat on the edge of the bed, your hands resting on his shoulders. “I’m okay.”

“I know,” he said, softer now. His hands found your waist automatically, like muscle memory. “Just—next time, maybe wake me up?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “You want me to wake you up… so I can go to the bathroom?” 

“Yeah,” he said, completely serious. Steve never wanted you to leave his side, that was how important you were to him. 

You laughed, but it wasn’t mocking, it was warm, fond. “Steve.” you teased. 

“I’m serious,” he insisted, pulling you a little closer. “Or at least leave, like, a note. Or…something. I don’t know.”

“A note?” you smiled at the boy’s words. “You think I’m gonna sit there and write, ‘Dear Steve, went to pee, be back soon’?”

“…I mean, yeah, that’d be great, actually.” he confessed, still dead serious about the situation. 

You shook your head, smiling as you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, but his grip on you tightened just slightly. “But you came back, so it worked out.”

Something in your chest softened at that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said quietly. “You know that, right?”

Steve looked up at you then, really looked like he was memorizing the way you said it, filing it away for the next time his mind tried to betray him.

“Yeah,” he said again, this time more certain.

You nudged him back onto the bed. “Come on. Let’s go back to sleep.”

He didn’t argue. Just pulled you down with him, arms wrapping around you immediately, tucking you right back into your spot against his chest like you belonged there. Which, to him, you did.

“Hey,” he mumbled after a second, already half-asleep again.

“Hmm?”

“If you get up again…”

You sighed, amused. “I’ll wake you.”

“Okay. Good.”

The real question was how could you make this boy like you back. So you did what any sane person would do and started to go to the video store once every other day. Claimed to be a movie fanatic, not a creepy loser, of course. It didn’t matter how weird it sounded because Steve bought it and that was enough for you to keep coming every other day. 

It became a routine. You would come into the store, flirt and then Steve would recommend some stupid typical boy movie and you would pretend to give a shit. You rarely ever actually watched the movies he recommended, because that wasn’t the point. The point was to keep a conversation with him, to hopefully someday spark up the courage to ask him out or maybe he would ask you out and then you would live happily ever after and get married and have kids and–

You knew the obsession was getting worse.

You couldn’t really explain it. You knew how bad this looked. You could only imagine how disgusted you would feel if a strange perverted man fantasized about having sex with you. But your intentions weren’t bad. Is what you convinced yourself. 

— — — — — —

The bell above the door rings at exactly 7:12 p.m.

Steve doesn’t need to look up anymore. He still does. You step inside like you always do. Quiet, measured, like you’ve already been there a hundred times before your hand even touches the door. Your eyes flicker briefly to the counter, just enough to check.

He’s there. He always is. He is so cute today. You think. 

Steve swallows, forcing himself to look back down at the tape he’s pretending to rewind. It whirs too loudly in the silence. He’s not even surprised anymore. He can’t tell if he feels uncomfortable being alone with you in here but there’s an unsettling feeling he can’t quite describe. It only happen when you come in. 

“You’re here late,” he says, casual. Too casual.

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all week. A pause.

Then, softly, “You’re always here.” His hands stop.

That’s…Not wrong. You think. You can’t tell if Steve's tone is annoyed or thrilled but it makes you happy anyways. He notices you (aww). 

Steve glances up again. You’re closer now, standing in front of the counter, holding a tape that you came in with in both hands like it’s something fragile. He recognizes it immediately.

“Didn’t you rent that yesterday?” he asks.

A beat.

“Yes.”

“…did you like it?”

Your fingers tighten slightly around the case. “You said I would.” 

Something about the way you say it, flat, certain makes something in his chest shift. Steve leans back a little, studying you now. Really studying you. You’re not smiling. You never really do. Not like most people. But you’re not unfriendly either. Just… focused. On him.

“Most people don’t come back this fast,” he says lightly.

“I finished it.”

“Yeah, but…like, normal people take a day or two. Or they rewind it and forget it in their car for a week." He doesn’t say this to be mean, he just doesn’t understand how someone can be that obsessed with movies, he liked movies too but jeez.  

“I don’t forget things you tell me.” you confessed. You weren’t sure where this bravery was coming from but you hoped it would make a step forward to something. In your mind you couldn't understand why Steve hadn’t already asked you out already. What wasn’t there to like. You were pretty, and clearly you were super responsible and sweet. A perfect candidate for a perfect boy or man you should say. 

The words land heavier than they should. Steve lets out a small breath through his nose, something almost like a laugh but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Right,” he says. “Okay.”

Silence stretches.

You don’t move.

You never do, not right away. You just stand there, like you’re waiting for something else. Like the interaction isn’t over just because the transaction is. Steve shifts, suddenly aware of that feeling again. That he’s being watched. Not in a threatening way. He’s not scared of you. He just suddenly feels…

Just… very noticed.

Every little thing.

“What are you gonna get tonight?” he asks, mostly to fill the space of hopeless awkwardness. 

You tilt your head slightly, considering the shelves behind him without actually turning to look.

“What do you think I should get?”

There it is. It happens every time now. Steve hesitates. Just for a second. Because he’s started to realize something, something he’s not sure how to feel about. You don’t just take his suggestions.

You wait for them.

“I don’t know,” he says slowly. “Depends. You want something like yesterday?”

“If you think I should.” you give him a soft smile. 

His fingers tap once against the counter. That tight feeling creeps in again. Somewhere between unease and something else he doesn’t want to name.

“You don’t have to just pick whatever I say, you know,” he mutters, slightly annoyed this time. 

You look at him then. Your smile drops. Directly. Fully.

“I know.” you say slightly annoyed too now. What was wrong with him? Can’t he see your being polite, that’s what normal people do. 

“…okay.”

Another pause.

Then, quieter this time almost thoughtful:

“I just like it better when you choose.” you smile again. That was a close one. 

Steve exhales, longer this time. He turns, grabbing a tape from behind him more to have something to do than anything else. His movements are slower now, more deliberate. He places it on the counter between you.

“You’ll probably like this one,” he says.

Your gaze drops to it immediately. Not curious. Not excited. Certain. Like the decision’s already made.

“Okay.”

You don’t reach for it yet.

Steve notices that too.

“You gonna take it, or…?” he prompts.

A small pause. Then you pick it up carefully, like it matters. Like it means something. 

“I’ll bring it back tomorrow,” you promise as if Steve really gave a shit if you returned the movie or not. 

Steve huffs a quiet breath. “Yeah. I figured.”

Your fingers linger on the edge of the counter after you set your payment down. Just for a second too long. Like you almost forget to pull away. Or don’t want to. Then you do. Only because you because you have to. 

“Goodnight, Steve.”

He nods automatically. “Night.”

The bell rings again as you leave.

7:16 p.m.

The store goes quiet. Steve stands there for a second, staring at the door after it closes. Then down at the counter. Then at the empty space where you were standing. There’s that feeling again.

That something just… shifted. Not dangerous. Not exactly wrong. But not normal either. Steve runs a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly.

“…yeah,” he mutters to himself. He already knows you’ll be back tomorrow. The part he doesn’t want to think about? He’s starting to wonder if he’ll notice first…or if he’ll be waiting for it.

— — — — — —

It was a new day at the video store. You hadn’t come in for 2 whole days now. That was unusual. Steve thought. It’s not like Steve was waiting for you, he was just curious. This time Robin was with him, normally on any other occasion she would be happy to spend a shift with her best friend but Steve was quiet today, boring even.  

Robin doesn’t even look up at first. She’s halfway through rewinding a tape, pencil shoved through her hair, completely focused like it’s the most important task in the world.

“So there’s this girl,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. Like he was waiting for the perfect moment to confess this as if it was some top secret matter to unleash. 

Robin snorts immediately. “Wow. Starting strong today, Harrington.” It wasn't unusual for Steve to talk about girls so why was Steve being so weird about this one. 

“No, I’m serious,” he says, rolling his eyes. “She comes in, like, every night.”

“Yeah,” Robin replies dryly. “That’s called a customer. We love those. They keep the store open.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, you don’t get it.”

That gets her attention. Barely. She glances up, unimpressed.

“Try me.”

He hesitates for half a second, like he’s figuring out how to explain something that doesn’t sound weird out loud. It’s almost like you are there standing next to him, he doesn’t want to say it in a way to hurt your feelings, he just needs to explain this whole situation properly. 

“She’s just… always there. Same time. Same routine. And she—” he stops, frowning slightly. “She listens to everything I say.”

Robin raises an eyebrow. “Again. Customer.” 

“No, like—everything.” Steve pushes off the counter, pacing a little now. “I’ll mention a movie once, and the next day she’s back with it. Finished. Already wants another one. And she doesn’t pick anything herself, she just waits for me to give her a recommendation. You know I'm not even sure if she watches the movies! I guess I should ask but-" he rants. 

“Wow Steve. A customer comes in, asks for your expert opinion from the person who works here…aka the expert?” Robin gestures to him. “Shocking. Truly.”

Steve lets out a short laugh, but it fades quickly. “It’s not like that.”

Robin finally sets the tape down, giving him her full attention now, though there’s still a smile tugging at her mouth. 

“Okay,” she says. “So what is it like?”

Steve runs a hand through his hair, exhaling.

“She remembers stuff,” he says. “Like… stuff people don’t usually remember. Things I said days ago. Small things.”

Robin tilts her head. “Maybe you’re just more memorable than you think, Steve.”

“Robin.”

“I’m just saying!”

He shakes his head again, more insistent now. “No, it’s the way she says it. Like everything I say matters. Like it’s important.”

Robin watches him for a second, then leans back against the counter.

“And this is a problem because…?” she asks.

Steve opens his mouth, then pauses.

Because that’s the thing.

“I don’t know,” he admits.

Robin’s smile widens just a little.

“Oh my god,” she says, pointing at him. “You think she’s obsessed with you.”

Steve huffs a laugh. “What? No.”

“Steve Harrington,” she continues, delighted now, “strikes again. King of ‘every girl who makes eye contact with me is secretly in love with me.’”

“That is not—” he stops, scoffing. “That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you meant.” Robin teases, grinning like a Cheshire cat now, watching Steve scramble to find the words. 

“I didn’t mean anything,” he insists, though there’s less confidence behind it now.

Robin crosses her arms. “Let me get this straight. A girl comes in, rents movies you recommend, pays attention when you talk, and comes back regularly… and your conclusion is: “She has to be a weirdo.”

“When you say it like that—”

“Because that’s what it is.”

Steve looks away, jaw tightening slightly.

“She doesn’t act like other people,” he mutters.

Robin softens, just a little, but there’s still humor in her voice when she says, “Not everyone acts like your usual fan club, Steve.”

He lets out a quiet breath, leaning back against the counter again.

“It’s not a fan club thing,” he says. “It’s just… different Robin.”

Robin studies him for a second longer. Then she shrugs.

“Okay,” she says. “So she’s a little intense. Big deal. Maybe she just likes talking to you.”

Steve doesn’t answer right away. Because yeah—maybe that’s all it is.Maybe Robin’s right.

He huffs a small laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Robin grins, satisfied, and goes back to her tape. “There you go. Crisis averted.”

Steve nods, like that settles it. Like that explains the way you stand just a little too close.

The way you wait for him to choose. The way you say his name like it means something.

“Yeah,” he says again, quieter this time.

But his eyes flick, almost unconsciously, to the door. The bell doesn’t ring. Not yet. Steve checks the clock.

7:10.

Two minutes.

Robin doesn’t notice the way he straightens slightly. The way his attention drifts. The way he stops listening.

Because whatever this is. 

Whatever you are?

Robin doesn’t get it.

But Steve?

He’s starting to think he might not, either.

— — — — — —

Robin is reorganizing the horror section when Steve brings it up again. Which, honestly, should’ve been her first warning.

“You’re doing it again,” she says without looking at him.

“I’m not doing anything,” Steve shoots back from behind the counter.

“You’re staring at the clock like it personally offended you,” Robin replies. “It’s been, what, two days?”

Steve exhales sharply. “I’m just saying it’s weird. She comes in almost every single day and now what? She doesn’t like movies. Maybe she came in and overheard us without us realizing and now she’s pissed. Poor girl, I didn’t want to hurt her feelings”. 

That gets her to glance over.

“Steve, first of all that didn’t happen. And you’re still on this?” she asks.

“She didn’t come in,” he says, like that’s the whole point. He wasn’t sure why this was bothering him so much but it was. He didn’t like that he couldn’t understand you. He normally was an expert on girls but you were different. Maybe it was defined as weird but still Steve couldn’t determine if he was flattered by your behavior or creeped out. 

Robin stares at him for a second. Then—

“Okay,” she says slowly. “So let me get this straight. The girl you think is, what, secretly obsessed with you…”

“I didn’t say obsessed—”

“...disappears for two days,” Robin continues over him, “and now you’re upset about it.”

“I’m not upset,” Steve says immediately, acting defensive as if Robin just exposed his deep dark secret. 

“You’re definitely upset.”

“I’m not—” he stops, then gestures vaguely. “It’s just… off. She’s always here. Same time. And then nothing.”

Robin leans against the shelf, crossing her arms.

“Wow,” she says. “It’s almost like she has a life outside of you? Wouldn’t that be crazy!” Robin remarks sarcastically. 

Steve rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, Steve?” she chuckles. She didn’t understand the big deal. If a cute girl was obsessed with her she would be flattered and gleaming with joy. 

He hesitates. Because he doesn’t have a clean answer for that.

“It just—” he frowns. “It doesn’t fit.” 

Robin watches him for a second, then sighs dramatically.

“Okay. Fine. You know what? I’m gonna indulge this.”

Steve narrows his eyes. “Indulge what?”

“Your… theory,” she says, waving her hand. “Let’s say you’re right. Let’s say this girl is weirdly fixated on you.”

Steve doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t disagree either.

Robin nods, like she’s building a case now.

“Why is that so bad?”

That throws him.

“What?”

“If she likes you, pays attention to you, comes in just to see you—oh no, Steve, how terrible,” Robin deadpans. “What a nightmare for you.” she chuckles like this is the funniest thing in the world, which to her it kinda is. 

“That’s not—” he huffs. “You’re twisting it.”

“I’m not twisting anything,” she says. “I’m simplifying. You think she’s into you. Great. Congratulations. That’s never happened before, I’m sure.” 

Steve gives her a look. “You’re hilarious.”

“I know,” she says. Then, more pointedly: “Have you even tried talking to her? Like, actually talking?”

“I talk to her every time she’s in here.”

“No, you recommend movies to her,” Robin corrects. “That’s not the same thing.”

Steve opens his mouth, then pauses.

“…okay, yeah, but—”

“But nothing,” Robin cuts in. “You don’t know anything about her, and you’ve already decided she’s weird.”

“She kinda is weird.” 

“Or,” Robin counters, stepping closer, “she’s shy. Or awkward. Or just… different. And instead of being normal about it, you’ve decided she’s some kind of mystery problem.”

Steve frowns, but there’s less resistance now.

Robin sees it and presses on.

“Here’s a crazy idea,” she says. “If she’s really that into you…”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Ask her out.”

Steve blinks.

“…what?”

Robin shrugs like it’s obvious. “Ask. Her. Out.”

“That’s your solution?” he says. “To…what? Confirm your ‘she’s just a nice girl’ theory?”

“No,” Robin says, smirking slightly. “It’s to confirm your ‘she’s secretly obsessed with me’ theory.”

Steve lets out a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious,” she says. “If you’re right, she’ll say yes. Immediately.”

“And if I’m wrong?”

“Then you went on a date with a girl who clearly likes you. Again such a tragedy.”

Steve shakes his head, but he’s smiling now despite himself. “You make everything sound so simple.”

“It is simple!” Robin insists. “You’re the one making it weird.” 

Steve looks down at the counter, tapping his fingers against it. Ask her out. The idea sits there, heavier than it should.

Because this isn’t like other girls. This isn’t casual. This is…?

“You’re overthinking it,” Robin says, softer now, like she can see it happening in real time. “Just ask her. One date. That’s it.”

Steve exhales slowly.

“Yeah,” he mutters. “Okay.”

Robin grins, victorious. “Yes! Thank you. Finally, some action.” 

Steve huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Don’t get excited. It’s just a question.”

“Uh-huh,” she says. “And I cannot wait to watch this go completely normally.”

“Yeah,” Steve says again, quieter this time.

His eyes flick to the door.

Right on cue. 

The bell rings. Both of them glance up. You step inside. You’re wearing a dress this time, your hair is all curled and fancy almost as if you knew. Like you were never gone at all really.

Robin leans in slightly, bumping her shoulder against Steve’s as she murmurs under her breath:

“Go on, Harrington.”

Steve swallows.

Because now.  Now he has to find out if he was right. This part is never easy. Oh this is where it gets really good. the contrast between how Steve sees this as uncertain… and how, in your head, it’s everything.

Robin nudges him. Harder this time.

“Go,” she mutters under her breath.

Steve shoots her a look, but she just raises her eyebrows like well? 

Right. Yeah. He can do this. It’s just a question. He kinda already has a weird feeling that you’re going to say yes. I mean he knows you’re gonna say yes. 

You’re already walking toward the counter, tape in hand, different this time. Not one he suggested. Steve notices that. Of course he does.

“Hey,” he says, a little too quickly.

You stop in front of him.

“Hi.” you say in a soft voice, as if you were trying to charm him with just your voice alone. 

Would it be weird to admit that it was kinda working? 

He immediately looks away.

“So—uh,” he starts, then stops. Wow. Smooth.

You tilt your head slightly.

“…you didn’t come in,” he blurts.

There it is.

Not what he meant to lead with.

But it’s out now.

A pause.

“I know,” you say.

That’s it.

No explanation.

Just I know.

Steve lets out a small, awkward laugh. “Yeah, I—uh. I noticed.”

Your grip tightens just slightly on the tape. Of course he did. Of course he noticed. Something warm—sharp, bright—flares up in your chest. You keep your face neutral. You couldn’t let him see your excitement. 

“I was busy,” you add after a second.

“Right. Yeah. Makes sense.”

Silence settles again. Robin makes a very pointed fake cough behind him.

Steve inhales. Okay. Now.

“Listen,” he says, a little more firmly this time. “I was wondering if—”

He pauses. You don’t move. Don’t interrupt. Don’t look away. You just wait. Like you always do. And for some reason, that makes it harder.

“If you’d maybe want to—uh—go out sometime?”

There.

For a second…you don’t respond. Not because you don’t want to. Are you kidding? You want to scream in his face “yes” and then give him a big fat kiss to say thanks but your brain is sabotaging you. Everything in your head goes quick for a moment until, thankfully, everything clicks into place. 

He just asked you out. 

You. The guy that you have been plotting on for weeks now has finally done the one thing you have fantasized about every night before bed. Well…that’s not the only thing but nevermind.

A sharp, electric feeling spreads through your chest, up your throat, into your thoughts. It’s fast, overwhelming, and perfect.

Of course.Of course this was going to happen. You knew it would. You just didn’t know when. Your fingers press harder into the plastic case in your hands. Don’t react too fast. Don’t ruin it. You look at him, really look this time.

“Yes,” you say.

Too quick.

You feel it immediately. Adjust. You blink once, steadying your voice. “…yeah,” you add, softer. “I’d like that.”

Steve exhales, a small smile breaking through before he can stop it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Behind him, Robin is vibrating.

He ignores it.

“Okay,” he says, nodding once like that settles it. “Cool. Uh—there’s this place—”

“I’ll go anywhere you pick.” It slips out.

Steve pauses. Just for a second. There’s that feeling again. That slight tilt—like something’s not sitting exactly right. But it’s gone just as quickly as it came.

“Okay,” he says again. “Then…Friday. I can take you to Enzo’s and we can have a nice night alright?”

“Yes.”

Again too fast. You force yourself to breathe.

“Friday works.”

Steve nods, slower this time.

“Alright. Friday.”

— — — — — —

In your head, everything is loud.

Bright.

Perfect.

Friday.

A set time. A plan. Something real.

Not just passing moments across a counter.

Not just waiting.

Something chosen.

Your grip finally loosens on the tape.

You slide it toward him.

“I’ll bring this back tomorrow,” you say.

Of course you will.

Of course you’ll be here.

Steve takes it, watching you for a second longer than usual.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “I know.”

You turn to leave.

“Bye, Steve” you say casually, as if your panties are soaked now. 

The bell rings again as the door opens.

Everything feels aligned.

Behind you, Robin grabs Steve’s arm the second you’re out of earshot.

“Oh my god,” she whispers-yells. “She said yes in, like, half a second” she chuckles. 

“I know,” Steve mutters, still looking at the door.

“Wow. Totally normal. Definitely not proving your point at all—”

Steve doesn’t answer. Because his focus lingers. On the way you said yes. On how certain it sounded. On how—He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair.

“…Friday,” he says under his breath.

Outside, you don’t rush to your car. You take your sweet time because for once in your life everything feels certain. You already know where you’ll be.

 When. With him. This is perfect. You think. He’s perfect. 

You already know exactly what you are going to wear and everything. You’ve already had it planned in your head for the countless dates you and Steve have already gone on in your head. And for the first time…You don’t have to wait and wonder if he’s noticing you. Because now? He chose you back.

— — — — — —