Objection! I’m in love | Steve Harrington fic
Defence attorney!Steve Harrington x Prosecutor!Reader
Summary: Steve Harrington was never second best to anybody until he met you. He couldn't say he didn't love it though. Your authority was what drew him to you, it was everything else that made him stay. With your relationship on the down low to keep your job's safe, can he make sure he doesn't royally fuck up the best thing that's ever happened to him?
Word count - 21,053
Warnings - language, some angst, shitty boss thats kind of it
A/n - this all stemmed from the idea of steve taking off his tie btw. for context, steve and reader are 28/29 ish, living in new york in like 1995 and all the stuff in hawkins didn’t happen
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“Look, I’ve got this. We basically have this thing in the bag. There is nothing this court room can throw at us that—“ his eyes shifted to over the man’s shoulder when the doors of the room opened. There you stood, as confident and poised as ever, with your perfect posture, and your neat hair, and a skirt that made your legs look so, sooo long… He shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts before his imagination ran wild. He turned back to his client. “There’s no winning this case,” he concluded.
The man sitting across from him scoffed, unsure where the sudden lack of confidence had come from after he had been so sure two seconds ago. “Man, what? You’re my lawyer, aren’t you supposed to give me hope we can win this thing?”
If he had any, he definitely would have. Steve tried hard for his clients, whether he thought they were pieces of shit or not, but never once had he won a case when he was up against you. You were like some kind of wizard. A deceptive, incredibly hot, wizard. Or should it technically be witch— this was not what he should be debating right before he tried to stop a man being put away for life. Priorities Steve.
He tried to plaster a positive smile onto his face, but it looked more pained than anything else. “Look, I’m going to do my absolute best here, but she—“ his eyes trailed over to you again, talking firmly with one of your advisors. Authority looked good on you, sexy even. Somehow the end of Steve’s pen had found its way between his teeth as he admired how your black, pencil skirt clung to your figure.
A throat clearing drew him back to the moment. His client was blinking at him, entirely unamused with how distracted his attorney was. This was the man that was supposed to keep him out of jail? He was screwed.
“She’s just really good at her job. One of the best.”
“Is that all she’s good at?” There had to be a reason he was eyeing you up so hungrily. Anyone with eyes could see the desire in his gaze.
He shot the man a glare. He knew there was a reason he didn’t like him, besides the obvious, but Steve never let his personal judgements cloud his work. He was a professional. So he took a deep breath and pushed down the irritation he felt, choosing instead to focus on going over some of his notes. If he was going to win this case he needed to focus. Which meant ignoring how you tossed your hair over your shoulder and flashed him a sultry smile.
“I’m good at my job. I’m gonna do everything I can.” He didn’t say much of what he was thinking. This man was still a criminal after all and Steve would rather like to live to see tomorrow. However, the evidence was going to speak for itself. Whether or not he put together a fantastic argument, there was only so much he could do to convince the judge that it was all a big misunderstanding.
The man didn’t seem convinced. Although he hadn’t seemed particularly fond of Steve from the get-go, he had a feeling nothing he said would have changed his heart. “Well, heads up, your little hottie’s coming over here.”
He tensed, whipping around to find you were in fact crossing the court room to greet him. There was a smile on your face, sultry and confident, two things he had never known you not to be. That was usually his downfall.
“Harrington.”
He took the hand you offered him, shaking it politely. “Didn’t know you were working this case. Though it was supposed to be Byers.” That was a trial he could have won easily. Jonathan was good, but he didn’t have the natural charm to win over a jury or a judge like you and Steve.
You shrugged. “Family emergency. So, they came to the best.”
“Always so humble.”
“No point in lying about what we both know is true.”
Someone called your name from behind you, summoning you back to your side of the court room. Looks like your conversation was going to have a rather quick conclusion. Steve wasn’t going to keep them waiting for you.
“Well, see you out there. Hope you’re nice and prepared.” He was tempting fate. Probably only embarrassing himself.
You were going to wipe the floor with him.
“I’ll try and go easy on you, Steve,” you smirked.
He rolled his shoulders back, straightening his posture and lifting his chin, trying to appear like your words hadn’t bothered him. “No you won’t.” Flirting with you out in public was dangerous, but definitely not out of the ordinary for you both. “You know I like a challenge.”
You quirked an eyebrow. “Oh, I know.”
His eyes were glued to the sway of your hips as you walked away. He was positive you knew it, emphasising the sway with every step. Part of him was waiting for you to shoot a daring look over your shoulder, but you had to remain professional, keeping your eyes straight ahead, even if you did arch your back just a little more when you rested your palms against the table to talk to your assistant prosecutor. You knew exactly what you were doing, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
As for the man whose freedom was on the line, he could already tell he was screwed. “You’re hopeless, man.” He had already given up before the trial even began.
“All rise.” Conversation ceased as the judge entered the room. Judge Turner, a man Steve had won under countless times, which gave him hope that this could be good. Maybe for once he might have a real chance at succeeding against you. You had yet to meet Judge Turner properly, but you would be sure to make a fantastic first impression if things were to go your way. “Court is now in session, with the honourable Judge Turner presiding.”
He nodded to those in the room. “Please be seated.”
“The State of New York versus Mr Kirby, charged with second degree-murder.”
The man in question scoffed quietly beside Steve and the lawyer had to refrain from rolling his eyes. Cases like these were hard, when he was sure the defendant was guilty, yet he had a job to do. It would have been a hell of a lot easier for both of them if he just co-operated and shut up. Now wasn’t the time to scold. All Steve could do was shoot him a glare that told him to be quiet.
“Counsel please state your appearances.”
You pushed your shoulders back, confidence radiating from you. The perfect first impression started now. “Y/N Y/L/N, appearing for the state.” You flashed Judge Turner the sweetest smile you could muster, receiving one back in return.
Your rival on the opposite side of the room couldn’t quite replicate it. “Steve Harrington, for the defendant.”
All he got was a swift nod. So much for thinking he was in with the judge.
“Thank you. Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, the defendant has pleaded not guilty. We will now proceed with opening statements. Ms Y/L/N, you may begin.”
“Thank you, your honour.”
The opening statements seemed to fly by, Steve barely remembered giving his. With a high stakes case things always seemed to pick up fast— that was exactly what happened here. One minute he was putting out the idea that this whole thing was one big misunderstanding, the next he was losing his grasp on the whole fight.
“Your Honor, the defendant was seen arguing with the victim earlier that day. Multiple witnesses have said it was about the victim owing the defendant money. There were threats involved. Then he shows up dead and we find that man’s prints on the weapon. If that isn't guilt then I don’t know what is.”
Steve shook his head. “It’s not that simple. The prosecution wants to pin blame, not see the whole story. My client was afraid. There was clearly a struggle. He acted out of fear. Fear is not a crime.”
You looked right at Steve, feeling the heat of frustration prickle at the back of your neck. “Two bullets were fired. That’s not fear, that’s intent.”
He scoffed. “Objection, counsel is drawing conclusions. That’s her opinion.”
“Overruled. Please proceed.”
“The defendant brought a loaded gun with him to resolve an argument and a man is now dead. He had no intention of making up with the victim when he went to his apartment. He went there to do one thing after he failed to get his money. This was far from an accident. This was cold blooded murder.”
With his arms folded over his chest and his whole fight unraveling right in front of his very eyes, Steve was running out of things to say. “Objection, speculation.” He ran a hand through his hair, a clear indicator of his stress.
You raised your hands in your own defence, backing down as the judge ruled with him. “Apologies, your honour.”
Steve was starting to grasp at straws and unfortunately you knew it. He had lost track of his own argument and needed now to tank yours if he had any hope at winning this case. With impending failure came a drop in morale. His confidence was slipping and you were going to take advantage of every second of it. This was how you won.
You had to fight the smile threatening to take over your face. It was evil, but god was it addicting. You never wanted to stop winning, even if it came at his expense.
“Whether the defendant had intent or not, he still carried a loaded weapon– which was unregistered. That’s possession, 10 years in prison. Then there’s the threats, which we have witnesses to. That can be more years in prison. Whether he intended to kill our victim or not, he’s already looking at a lengthy sentence. I don’t believe I need to speculate to paint the defendant in a bad light. He’s taken care of that pretty well on his own. If he can commit other crimes, I don’t see why he couldn’t commit murder.”
Steve was clenching and unclenching his fist furiously. It was the stress of the moment. The case was officially gone again. The jury were all swooning for you, the Judge had never looked prouder of an attorney, and he didn’t have a retaliation.
“Mr Harrington, do you have anything else to say?”
He sighed heavily, shaking his head, trying to ignore the way your smile grew. It shouldn’t have made him so angry. A bad man was probably going to be put away, thanks to his lack of fight. He really should have been happy that Mr Kirby wasn’t going to be back out on the streets of New York, but just once he would have liked to beat you. “No, your honour.”
“If that is all from our counsel…” He received a nod from you and a much more dejected nod from Steve. “Members of the jury if you could please head out to deliberate.”
The minutes that ticked by as you both waited for the jury’s return were painstaking. Almost torturous. It felt like hours.
Steve’s leg was bouncing, eyes darting to the small hand on his watch periodically as if it would help time move faster. You were holding up much better. Obviously you were nervous, a small fluttering of butterflies flying around in your tummy like always when waiting for a verdict, but you were confident in your performance. Especially towards the end. Steve had fallen apart right in front of the court’s eyes. You wouldn’t take pride in his suffering, but it boosted your faith in yourself.
It felt like he held his breath from the moment the door opened. He was just going through the motions, barely even registering his movements. He stood when the rest of the court room did, trying to look like he was put together. He was far from it. The moment the decision was spoken aloud he knew he messed up. Fuck.
Guilty.
The man beside him scoffed, hurling an insult at the back of Steve’s head. He was supposed to get him out of this mess and instead he was now doing 15-life. He didn’t listen to the stuff that spewed from his mouth, instead he tried not to spiral.
The verdict was still echoing in his head as he packed up his notes. He could faintly hear your laughter as you talked amongst your team, accepting the congratulatory pats on the back with a beaming smile. Winning never got old. Losing definitely did though.
With a half-hearted apology to the man he’d been representing, who was now looking at him like it was Steve who ruined his life and not his own actions, he began packing his stuff. Papers were creased as he jammed them into his briefcase. They didn’t matter anymore. There was no need to take care of them. Usually he was pretty level-headed when he lost. He picked himself up quickly. Not today. Today was supposed to matter. Today was supposed to be an easy win.
He wondered if you felt bad. He didn’t want to demean your win. You won because you were good. It was just curiosity, did you feel bad not for him as an attorney, but as the Steve you went home to at night? If you did, he didn’t see any of it right now.
Of course you felt bad. Steve wasn’t just some guy you hooked up with, he had quickly come to be someone you cherished, who you looked forward to seeing at the end of the day. But you couldn’t not do your job just because you were fond of him. Your eyes lingered on his figure as he exited the courtroom, shoulders slumped and head hung low. A quiet sigh slipped past your lips. Maybe next time would be different. You hoped it was, even if it meant losing a case you worked hard on.
The next trial came quickly. Just another rich kid who thought he was untouchable.
Nothing changed. He argued, he pleaded his case and you tore him down.
The Swanson case meant another loss. Twice in a single week.
By now Steve wasn’t shocked. In fact the moment you entered the court room he expected that his case was over. His arguments just never seemed to live up to yours. Maybe it was secretly the way he was weak for you outside of these four walls. He just couldn’t stand to see you lose, so subconsciously he weakened himself.
That probably wasn’t it though.
Now he was drowning his sorrows in the closest bar to the court. In hindsight that was a terrible idea, it should have been obvious you would head there to celebrate your win. Yet he still seemed surprised when you and your team came through the door victorious. He wished he’d been smarter, or had the sense to just head home and drink the beer he had in his fridge. But now it was too late for him to pretend like he wasn’t here.
He hated to admit the way you glowed after a win. Your back was straighter, head held high and a look of pure joy fixed to your face. The men you’d entered the bar with, your team who probably didn’t even contribute that much, looked at you like you hung the moon. How could he blame them? He was the exact same way.
Maybe you felt his stare, or maybe you could smell the overwhelming stench of pity coming from the barstool he was perched on.
The sight was bordering on pathetic. Something in your heart tugged painfully. You loved winning. Law was your whole life. Putting bad people behind bars was what you were meant to do— what you were good at. You knew Steve was smart. And he was good at his job, just not better than you. You wished sometimes he could show off his skills, finally get the recognition he deserves. You ached to comfort him, but there was little you could do here in public.
You hadn’t heard most of the conversation that had been happening, too stuck in your thoughts about Steve. Now that you tuned back in you could hear they were bickering about who was buying. “Hey, first rounds on me,” you promised, really just needing an excuse to slip away.
There was plenty of space at the bar, but you sidled right up beside him, arms touching. He knew it was you without even looking, the scent of your perfume was ingrained in his head.
He sighed, neck of his beer bottle resting against his bottom lip, like he couldn’t decide if he should take another swig to null the sting of losing. “Come to gloat?” he muttered.
You frowned, hand grazing the long locks at the back of his head in a way that could have been an accident to any watchful eyes. “I would never.” You leaned against the bar beside him, flagging down the bartender to order the round for your table. Though your eyes kept drifting back to Steve. Poor, sad, mopey Steve.
“Let me buy you an apology beer?” you offered.
He laughed, humorlessly. “Shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink, celebrating the big win.”
“You should.” You grinned, sliding an arm around his shoulders. You peered down at his sulking form and it took a squeeze of his arm for him to finally look up and lock eyes with you. “But I hate seeing that frown on your face. You’re too pretty to pout.”
That didn’t make him smile, but he definitely tried to fight a blush. His cheeks were hot when you pressed your lips to them. An overdramatic, wet kiss that had him attempting to squirm away from you. He quickly eyed your surroundings, making sure no one had seen the quick bout of affection. He was far too paranoid. He wasn’t sure what the rule was on fraternising with people you frequently battled in court, but he didn’t want to take any risks.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, practically straining his neck to make sure no eyes were watching. “Someone could see.”
Your eyes rolled. He was so dramatic. “No one’s looking, Steve. We’re in a bar, people are drunk.” You didn’t make it clear that his rejection hurt you. In a way you could see where he was coming from, although it didn’t make it any less painful. “Why don’t you come and sit with us? Stop moping…”
That was the last thing he wanted. “I’m good, thanks.” He wasn’t intentionally being cold. He could never be that way to you. But sitting down and having celebratory drinks with the lawyers that just kicked his ass sounded worse than his one man pity party.
You sighed, squeezing his shoulder, offering a polite smile to the bartender who placed your drinks on the counter. “If you want to join us whenever… the offers there.” You patted his back as you left one of the beers on the bartop for him. He might not have wanted your pity, but he wasn’t going to turn down a free beer.
As you rejoined your table, you hoped no one had noticed the brief interaction. This thing you had going on with Steve had been a well kept secret for a while now. It was better that way, not just for your social lives, but for your professional lives too. You didn’t know if it was technically a conflict of interest to be together. You didn’t want to find out. Both of you liked things the way they were.
You hadn’t been as subtle as you hoped. Tommy, one of the paralegals, leaned over one of your other coworkers— Carol, the redhead legal assistant you were pretty sure he was seeing on the down low— and tapped your knee. “What’s up with Harrington?”
The pair had run-ins in the past, usually in the court room as opposed to out of it. You knew Tommy wasn’t asking out of concern. He wanted to poke fun at the man any way he could.
You slid into the booth with a sigh, eyes accidentally landing on the man’s back again. You had a feeling your eyes were going to be drifting that direction all night. “He just lost a big case, he’s pretty upset.” That was understandable. You would be exactly the same if you were in his shoes.
The man muttered something akin to ‘pussy’ under his breath. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let him get under your skin. Steve had every right to be disappointed, he shouldn’t have to let stupid Tommy Hagan dictate how he was supposed to feel after a loss.
As the night went on, Tommy had gotten a little drunk, far too tipsy for after work drinks. You were only supposed to have a few and then head home. It wouldn’t be long before you had to start preparing for your next case. But he took it too far. When Tommy gets drunk, he gets pushy.
His eyes landed on Steve still occupying the same seat at the bar and everything in his brain told him to approach the man.
The rest of you assumed he was going to the bathroom or something. No one really paid much attention to him. Not until the commotion they were causing had become loud enough to hear across the room.
“Get off me, man!”
Steve was batting the man’s hand away from his arm. He had been minding his own business, sipping his drink and staring at his sad excuse of a reflection in the mirror behind the alcohol, when Tommy approached and started trying to force him up out of his seat. He was unsure whether it was a fight he was looking for, or if he was just trying to be an asshole. Either way, Steve was annoyed and you were out of your seat to mediate instantly.
“Come on, cheer up a little. Have a drink. Celebrate! It’s not like losing is new to you, Harrington.” The volume of his voice was drawing attention from all around the bar. Too many eyes were on them now. Tommy was supposed to be a respected lawyer, yet here he was making a fool out of himself in public. “Aren’t you used to getting your ass kicked by now?”
You stepped between the two, pushing on Tommy’s chest to put some distance between him and Steve. “Stop being a dick,” you scolded.
The freckled man scoffed, beer sloshing over the rim of his glass as he stumbled on his feet. “What crawled up your ass? I’m just messing around, Y/N. Lighten up.” He jabbed at Steve’s shoulder as he said it. “We’re all friends here…”
“Actually, I think it’d do well to remember I’m your boss, Hagan. Why don’t you try acting like it?”
His guard went up quickly now that you weren’t on his side. His back straightened and he shot you a funny look. He had never particularly struck you as a violent man, or someone who could be violent, but that all changed now. You weren’t going to look at him the same way after this. “What’s your problem? You sleeping with him or something?”
Steve sighed deeply, his eyes fluttering shut at the idea that Hagan might have just accidentally stumbled onto your secret, the very one that had been well kept for a while now. If it did get out and harm your jobs he would feel terrible. This was his fault for thinking it was a good idea to come to this specific bar. You shouldn’t be getting into fights with your team because of him.
“What’s my problem? Tommy–”
A hand gently wrapped around your upper arm, stopping you from saying something you might regret. Steve didn’t need you to come to his defence. He shook his head when you looked at him, a silent way of telling you to let it go.
You opened your mouth to protest, but he was ready to call it a night anyway. With a sigh, tired of feeling so inferior to you and having it rubbed in his face, he stood up abruptly. Your eyes were wide as you watched him throw down a few dollar bills and grab his jacket from the back of his chair. “Enjoy your night, yeah?” He didn’t wait to hear your response, just headed out the door of the bar without even looking back.
The night didn’t feel like fun anymore. Your high spirits quickly became low and all you wished to do was follow after him. How were you supposed to enjoy yourself knowing Steve was heading home to be miserable in his apartment?
You should go after him. That was what your mind kept telling you as you stared at the door of the bar, but you didn’t want it to look suspicious. He had been so paranoid about people finding out about your secret fling, running after him like this was only going to confirm what people probably already suspected.
Nancy Wheeler was an observer. As a court reporter it was her job to be listening all the time, see everything that was happening, make note of it. She noticed something between you and Steve a long time ago, probably before you even had. There was a spark, a scorching chemistry that was hard to ignore. She could tell it wasn’t just the sex. Sometimes the way Steve looked at you made even her breathless, so she couldn’t imagine what it was like behind closed doors. There was really no hiding passion that intense. Which meant she knew exactly how much you ached to find him and apologise now.
“Go,” she whispered.
You nodded, ignoring the questions you had about how she knew, grabbing your bag and abandoning your beer as you made a run for the door. Outside the air was crisp, almost icy. The wind burned your cheeks and you wished you’d had the sense to slip your coat on before coming outside. That wasn’t important now though. All you cared about was finding Steve and properly apologising for everything. For ruining his trial, for ruining his night and for having such shitty coworkers.
As you looked around at the emptying streets of the city, you realised he was long gone. Any apology you were planning in your head was going to have to wait until you saw him again. You just hoped he wasn’t mad at you. You ran a hand through your hair, chest growing tight at the idea of Steve sitting alone in his apartment having a shitty night. “Fuck.” Sure you could have put a stop to that, but it might be too soon, especially if he was disappearing this quickly to get away.
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
You didn’t see Steve until over a week later.
This time was different. There was no defendant, no courtroom walls, nothing that meant you had to remain professional. A whole ten days of having him in reach, yet not getting to be with him had torn you apart. You had to fix it, worrying he might be mad at you.
He had given you a key to his apartment long ago. So long ago he didn’t even remember doing it. The same as your secret fling had been going on for so long that he didn’t recall how that came about either. It didn’t matter really. He stopped asking questions about you a while ago.
What did matter was that he returned home from a draining day at the office to find his door was unlocked. He sighed. A burglary was the last thing he needed right now. Now that he had much to take. Steve was paid just enough to scrape by, it wasn’t like he could afford jewels or anything remotely worth stealing. But even having to get his TV replaced would be a headache.
Imagine his relief when he finally grew the balls to push open the door just to find you traipsed across his couch like you owned the place.
Your shoes were kicked off by the door, jacket tossed over the back of the couch, hair loose from the tight confines it was one restricted in— even your lacy bra was on the floor, which must have been slipped through your sleeve in that mysterious way he never could wrap his head around.
He huffed a laugh. At the quiet sound your eyes cracked open, a grin splitting your face as a welcome. Although just the sight of you like this was a warm enough welcome in his eyes.
You stared blatantly as he loosed the pink, striped tie around his neck until he could pull it off, allowing it to join your discarded bra on the floor. He popped open his top button and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows until he finally felt he could breathe easier, leaning against the kitchen counter.
He didn’t know when his eyes had fluttered shut.
“Long day?” you asked. He hummed tiredly. There was a long pause, but he heard the quiet creak of the couch, tiptoed footsteps— felt you approach him. Your arms draped around his neck, fingertips dancing along the skin of his nape. Not pressing, just there. Your voice was no louder than a whisper when you spoke. “Want me to make it better?”
Soft, tired, honey brown eyes met your own. His pupils blew wide. Whatever you were offering sounded fantastic. “How do you plan on doing that?”
Your lips ghosted over his, barely brushing together, before you redirected to his jaw. “I have a few ways. They all involve a different room in the apartment though…”
“Hm, bathroom?”
“Close. Bedroom.” You emphasised it with a kiss to the spot just below his ear that made his knees weak.
The way you whispered the word made him shiver. He barely got a word out before you slotted your lips against his and your hand threaded in his hair. His body sagged against yours, giving into whatever you wanted from him. In that moment he would have let you steer him head first into a gunfight as long as you kept kissing him like that.
The effect you had on him was intoxicating.
Afterwards it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. Steve didn’t want to toot his own horn, but it was safe to say he tired you out. You stayed awake long enough for some extra kisses from Steve, but you lost a losing battle against your heavy lids. Your head was on his chest, right over his heartbeat so you were soothed even in your sleep, and your arm was thrown mindlessly over his stomach.
For a while he laid there, drawing circles on your skin wherever he could reach and occasionally dotting kisses to the top of your head. As much as he would have liked to lay beside you for the rest of the evening, there was stuff to do. He had files to review, notes to make, and he was starving. Pizza sounded really good right now. He was ready to take the chance you would think the same.
He glanced at you briefly, half your face smushed into one of his pillows, a piece of hair blowing wildly every time you exhaled. There was no doubt that you were gorgeous in everything you did, but he never thought you were more beautiful than right now. If he could have kissed you without disturbing you, he certainly would have.
A low growl from his stomach reminded him that he couldn’t lay here any longer, even if he did want to sit and admire you for a lifetime.
The bed was creaky, had been as long as your relationship existed, and he kept insisting he would get an upgrade soon. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t have woken you when trying to discreetly climb out of bed. The squeak was loud, loud enough to pierce through the rather pleasant dream you’d been having. His warmth was gone, leaving you with a cold bed and only the remnants of his scent on the pillow beside you. “Steve,” you sleepily mumbled, reaching out for him before he could disappear from the room entirely.
You barely cracked open an eye. You had an early morning, followed by a long day, sleep welcomed you like an old friend, even if it was just for a quick nap. You weren’t ready to give it up just yet. Steve was standing beside the bed, slipping on the same slacks he’d been wearing all day, accompanied with the undershirt he hadn’t taken off. Even in your foggy mind you could appreciate he looked hot.
He smiled. One of his favourite states to see you in was like this; sleepy, loose-limbed, relaxed. Rarely did he ever see you vulnerable. It was nice knowing you could be yourself with him around. He kneeled on the bed, grazing his nails across the skin of your back. You shivered. “Go back to sleep, honey,” he whispered, dotting stray kisses along the length of your shoulder.
You hummed, happily.
He waited, rubbing circles at the base of your neck until he was sure you were sleeping soundly once again. Only then did he trudge out of the room.
You had no idea how long you slept, but it was dark when you woke up and Steve’s side of the bed had long since gone cold. The power nap had rejuvenated you, enough that you wouldn’t mind coaxing Steve back here for the rest of the night, however the smell of food wafting through the door, and a grumble in your stomach, was enough to drag you to your feet. You slipped his shirt on, rolling up the sleeves and messily fastening the buttons.
Your intention wasn’t to find your missing lover, but instead to follow the scent of delicious smelling food– you just happened to find Steve first, and maybe you got a little distracted looking at him. It was unfair for him to look so good without trying. In his undershirt and slacks, hair messy and tiny glasses perched on his nose. You loved when he wore those. You let out a long sigh, taking a few minutes to admire him before you disturbed him.
From what you knew, he had a long day. The company Steve worked for was shitty. They worked him like a dog, for no recognition, and to pay him little to nothing; Practically dimes. It was a miracle he could pay the bills with the money he earned. More than once you had tried to get him to quit, to come and work with you, only a little bit selfishly. There he would have so much. His hard work and smarts would be appreciated, he would actually earn enough money to live, and you wouldn’t have to fight against each other all the time. But he was a man of the people. He didn’t believe only rich assholes deserved a good defense. Everyone did. Not to toot his own horn, but the state’s other defense attorneys weren’t the brightest tools in the shed. If he left his job now, who knows how many people would be put away unfairly.
When he let out another deep sigh, you thought it might finally be your moment to swoop in and save him from this tedious work.
“You look sexy in those glasses,” you stated, simply.
If Steve were to look up at the sound of your voice, he’d find you standing there, leaning against the doorframe in nothing but the shirt you tore off his body a few hours ago. He would probably lose his mind. But first he would have to break his focus. He didn’t even look up from the file he had his nose buried in for a split second.
It wasn’t like he was actively doing anything. His pen had been tapping uselessly against the side of his head for nearing 5 minutes. He was stumped. He couldn’t help but wonder if you ever got like this when planning your own argument.
At the lack of attention, despite how you just spent most of your evening wrapped up in him, you huffed. You knew he was working, but you wanted him to look at you.
Your bare feet padded quietly over the cold floor. When you stopped behind him, leaning your legs against the back of his chair, you settled your hands on his shoulders. You could feel the tension the moment your palms touched him. With an affectionate kiss to the top of his head, you began to try and massage some of his stresses away.
At the sensation of hands on his shoulders, his body relaxed. He slumped back into the armchair, letting his head loll forward as you began to knead your fingers into the tight muscle. He groaned, “is there anything you can’t do?” Considering you were doing him a favour, he could have sounded a little more grateful.
You laughed, low and mesmerising in his ear, like a siren calling for him to come back to her. He was a weak man. A very weak man.
Once you felt some of the tension disappear, you slid your arms around his neck, dropping your chin to his shoulder. It was nice being close to him like this. He smelled good, clean and manly. Everything about him was just so addicting.
Naturally, your eyes fell to the file in his hand. You didn’t mean to spy on his work. You would never try and cheat your way into a win in the courtroom. But obviously you were curious.
“What you working on?”
Like a sudden splash of icy water to the face, he was snapped back into reality. This was a case you were both working on. One where he was working against you. You had both agreed a long time ago that you wouldn’t let whatever this is between you interfere with work. That was when things would start to get messy. He slowly closed the folder, throwing it on the coffee table along with his unused pen. “Nothing for enemy eyes to see.”
“Enemy eyes?” you scoffed, pinching the skin of his arm cruelly.
He whined, trying to pull his arm away from you before you could inflict any more hurt. You apologised with a kiss to the side of his head. That wasn’t enough for Steve. He reached a hand back into your hair, turning his head so your lips could finally meet. The kiss was slow, gentle, like he’d been waiting all day for this moment.
He was the first to pull away, leaning his forehead against yours, occasionally brushing his nose with yours playfully. Steve liked touching you. He was very affectionate. Gentle. He loved like a man should; careful, wholly, with a tad of yearning for the parts of you he had yet to know. You were obsessed with every moment of it. Even though you weren’t together, he loved you like you were. It should scare you, instead it made you feel alive.
Somehow you ended up perched in his lap. One hand on your cheek and the other on your thigh. You couldn’t be sure if it was you or him that initiated the move, but you weren’t upset.
“Do you ever wish we didn’t have to be so secretive with each other?” he whispered.
Anyone else might have wondered what brought on such a question, but not you.
“Yeah.”
You didn’t question him. There was no need to. There were a lot of things you wished could be normal between you two. You wished you could talk about work freely, wished you could date like normal people, wished you didn’t have to battle with each other every other week in court. The things you would give to be with Steve without all these secrets and strings attached were unspoken. He felt exactly the same way. In your world, unfortunately, it just wasn’t plausible.
There was no need to make the mood so somber.
He grunted when you suddenly shifted your weight to lean forward, pinching awkwardly at his leg as you reached for a slice of pizza out of the box. You grinned at the blank stare he sent your way, biting the end off your slice before offering it to him. He took a bite, thanking you quietly.
The two of you sat there peacefully, curled up together in his armchair as you shared food. It was concerningly domestic, but you wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
His lips pressed against your temple, resting there for a minute as he breathed deeply, like he needed to cherish the moment. “Do you want to watch a movie? I rented that new Batman movie on DVD.”
You pulled away from him ever so slightly, gasping dramatically. “DVD? Very fancy, Mr Harrington. You sure know how to seduce a lady,” you teased, tapping his nose with the tip of your finger.
He rolled his eyes. “Is that a yes or do I need to kick you out of my apartment?”
“Do you have popcorn? If not, I’ll go grab my bag now…”
He tightened his arms around your waist, standing up from the arm chair with you tucked safely into his arms. You squealed out of shock, the sound quickly transforming into laughter as he carried you to and then dropped you down onto the couch. “You sit, behave, I’ll grab whatever movie snacks I can find and then we can decide if Kilmer is better than Keaton.”
“Yeah, right.”
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
“Harrington.” The call of his name had his head shooting up from the folder it was buried in like a curious puppy. His boss wanting to see him was never good. “My office, please.”
He sighed, shoulders practically kissing his ears from how tense he suddenly became. The teasing ‘ooo’ from the desk next to his certainly didn’t help. But he loved Robin, how could he not? So he didn’t bite back, just shot her a look as if to say keep your nose out. Her hands shot up and she pretended to be very interested in her own notes all of a sudden.
Steve rolled his eyes, rolling his chair back slowly while he tried to prepare for his fate.
His boss, Mr Perry, was already lounging in his desk chair like he didn’t have a care in the world when he entered the room. He could probably smell the tension radiating off Steve, but he did little to help quell it. “Close the door, kid.”
He stuffed his hands in his pockets after doing so, hoping to hide how his hands were ever so slightly trembling. “Am I in trouble, sir?”
“Not exactly.”
That wasn’t promising. He gulped, adjusting the tie around his neck when it started to feel like he was being strangled.
“We need to talk about the Kirby trial, and the Swanson trial, and 10 others I could name from the last 2 years, Harrington.” He hung his head. “What’s going on? Are the cases too hard? Do I need to start giving you misdemeanor cases that my grandkids could win?”
“No, definitely not. I just– It’s the prosecutor I’m always up against. Y/L/N, she’s incredibly good at her job. She kicks my ass every time. No matter how good my argument is, hers is somehow always just that little bit better. She’s impossible to win against.”
Impossible was not in Perry’s vocabulary. The older man shook his head. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, Steve, every attorney has a weakness. You just have to find what it is.”
“How?”
“You get inside her head. Under her skin.”
Technically, Steve had already done a lot more than that. He slept beside you most nights. Had conversations so deep that it scared him sometimes. Whether you were in an official relationship or not, Steve felt so strongly for you that betraying your trust might tear him to pieces. He wouldn’t do that to anyone, that wasn’t the kind of lawyer he was, but he couldn’t do that to you most of all.
Perry must have seen the conflict on his face. “Look, kid, you’re a good lawyer.” Steve knew something was coming that he wasn’t going to like. Not just from his boss’ tone of voice, but from how he was pinching the bridge of his nose like this was awkward. Steve knew there was a but coming. “But, if you don’t win something soon I have no choice but to start punishing you, Steve.”
It was frustrating. Perry didn’t leave the office much. He wasn’t the one in the courtroom, he didn’t see how ruthless you were. No amount of words could explain the authority you displayed the moment you stepped foot in the courthouse. “I get it, sir, I do, and it’s not like I’m not trying, but—“
“I don’t want to hear excuses, Steve.” That was final. “I know she’s brilliant, how else could she keep beating you case after case?”
The question hung in the air for a second too long. He should have answered, should have said anything, but he blanked. The silence paired with the look on his face said it all.
Perry laughed. “Are you sleeping with her?”
“No.” His denial wasn’t very convincing. Steve was infatuated with you. Having to tell anyone that he didn’t feel anything for you was like admitting to committing horrible sins. One unimpressed look and he was regrettably coming clean. “Yes. But it has never come between work, I promise. I don’t let her win, or give her inside information, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I know it’s wrong, and we shouldn’t be doing it, but–”
“Steve.” He paused, heart pounding in his chest. Like a million other people scraping by in New York, he needed this job. Shitty or not it was keeping him afloat, he couldn’t afford to lose it, not over some silly rule about fraternising. “I’m not here to get on you about a silly rule. Sleep with whoever you want. You’re here because I need you to win cases. You’re one of my most promising attorney’s, kid. You think Munson could come up with half the arguments you do?”
Steve didn’t think he’d seen Eddie Munson do a day of work since he started.
“What am I supposed to do?”
Perry shrugged. “Weasel it out of her, steal a file, look at her notes. There’s a whole list of things you could do, kid. Pick any one of them.”
“I can’t–”
“Listen, Steve, I don’t want to be the one to go to the bar and inform them about your little relationship, but if I don’t start seeing some results soon… I don’t know if I’ll have a choice.”
It was hard to believe he was being threatened by his boss. Perry had never given him reason to believe he could be sneaky like this, yet here he was putting Steve’s career on the line for something so miniscule. Steve won cases, all the time, just not the ones against you. He was pulling in results whether Perry liked it or not. Whether Steve did or didn’t go through with this, it appeared his job was on the line.
If he was braver, he might have pointed out that what he was insisting Steve do was enough to get him disbarred on its own. Either way he had enough ammo to force Steve to lose his job. Not that the man was going to listen to logic, that was probably the way he wanted it.
“Sir, I–”
The conversation was over. “I don’t care what you have to do. Just get it done.”
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Steve had been deliberating on what Perry said for days.
The idea of going behind your back made his stomach churn. It was the very last thing he ever wanted to do, but law was his life. If he didn’t have a job, he wouldn’t have a home– or you– and if his licence got stripped away, he would have to head back to Hawkins and admit to his parents that he failed. He couldn’t do that either. So he was torn.
He could begin to win against you on his own merit, that was the best option. Or he could come clean to you, tell you what Perry said, maybe finally take you up on your offer to work with you. He wasn’t sure. His mind was so foggy. All he knew is that either way he needed to see you right now.
The trip over to your apartment was spent trying not to spiral.
Walking through your hallway had his lungs closing up. He hadn’t even done anything yet and it was already eating him alive. Your door stared back at him, the golden 25 taunting him. He kept trying to remind himself that seeing your face would make everything better, but it didn’t make the pressure on his chest ease any more.
He didn’t knock right away, just stared, hoped something would give him a reason to turn around and walk away. The weight of the world, his world, was on his shoulders now. He still hadn’t made his decision on what he was going to do yet. He was hoping seeing you would make up his mind for him. That sweet smile you reserved for him that could make him see the light on his darkest of days. Surely if anyone could help him out of this horrible situation, it was you. He just didn’t anticipate you being busy.
You opened the door and were immediately caught off guard by his presence. You didn’t smile at him like he thought you would. “Steve, hey, what are you doing here?” The door was open barely a crack. Just enough for you to be able to see him, but not enough for him to be able to see inside your apartment. If he didn’t know any better, he would assume you were hiding something. Normally you let him straight in, sometimes even pounced on him at the door. What changed?
“Can’t I come in?” he teased, taking a step forward as though he was expecting you to cave. When your guard went up he couldn’t help but wonder if you really were hiding something. “What, you don’t have another city defence attorney in there, do you?”
It was nothing but a joke, though the horror in your eyes was beginning to make him wonder if it was real. His stomach dropped. Sure you weren’t exclusive technically, but Steve hadn’t been with anyone else since… months before you ever fully captured his heart, the thought of you being with anyone but him was soul crushing.
He deflated. As a lawyer he should have been better at hiding his emotions, it was part of his job to remain as neutral as possible, and yet when it came to you he couldn’t hide a thing.
“Oh, you do?” He sounded like a kicked puppy.
You shook your head rapidly. At this point you couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than Steve. “No, god no, it’s my parents.”
His eyes widened. If he knew they were visiting he would have stayed far away. Neither of you thought you were quite there yet. “Oh, oh, shit, sorry. I didn’t know they were in town.”
“Neither did I until about an hour ago. Surprise visit– you know how parents get when you don’t return a few phone calls.”
He didn’t. The last time Steve had seen his parents was when he left Hawkins to pursue law when he was 18. That was 10 years ago. Occasionally his mother would call, just to check in, but he didn’t make a habit of calling regularly. You didn’t know that much, so he didn’t blame you for that. “Ha, yeah.”
An awkward silence settled between you. He was disappointed in himself for the reason he came here, and you just wanted him to head out before your parents started getting the wrong idea. As much as you would have loved to spend tonight with him like you normally did, you just weren’t sure if it was time for such a big step. He wasn’t even your boyfriend yet, surely that had to come first.
You had been gone too long. The natural curiosity of your mom was eating away at her. “Y/N, who’s at the door?”
You cursed under your breath as she pulled open the door further, revealing Steve to herself and your father sitting on the couch. They were delighted to see a man, a possible boyfriend. They were both, your mom more than anyone, constantly on your back about you being single. When her face lit up the way it did, you didn’t know how to break her heart. Of course they didn’t know Steve was just a fling, so they were going to blow this out of proportion.
“Oh, hello.” She nudged you in the ribs, an action that made you roll your eyes. “I’m Y/N’s mother, who might you be?” She held out her hand for him to shake.
“Mom, he’s just a co-worker.”
“I’d still like to know his name. Don’t be rude.”
Steve bit back a smile, accepting the handshake your mom offered. “Steve Harrington. City attorney, I battle with your daughter a lot. She’s very good.”
The woman positively beamed at that. Who wouldn’t want to hear how great their daughter was. And if anyone asked Steve, you really were great. “So I hear.” She could sense the tension between you. She was your mom, she could read you like a book. Although she wasn’t 100% sure what was going on, she would have to be an idiot not to know something was happening. She grinned, evilly. “We were just about to sit down for dinner, I made lasagne, you should join us, Steve.”
His eyes darted to yours. He was asking you if it was okay. The last thing he wanted to do was overstep. You gave him a small nod.
“I’d love to.”
Your heart was pounding as he stepped foot into your apartment, your mom linking her arm with his as she led him to the small table in your kitchen. It really wasn’t big enough for an impromptu dinner party, but with her crazy mom-powers, she managed to make it pretty cozy. For once this part of your apartment actually looked nice.
Steve sat beside you, leg bumping into yours, though you had a sneaky suspicion it wasn’t accidental. He was so focused on any part of your body that brushed against his that he almost missed your mom’s question posed for him.
“So Steve, where are you from?”
He gulped. He didn’t love talking about his hometown, too much pain tied to the memories of his childhood. He tried not to think about his parents where he could. “Uh, a small town in Indiana; Hawkins. It’s nothing special.”
You noticed how he shifted in his seat and rubbed at the back of his neck, two nervous ticks, both stemming from the memory of his home. That was something you’d have to unpick later.
“Well, it sounds charming.”
He laughed nervously. “It’s definitely something.”
“What made you want to become a lawyer?”
“My dad. He’s a lawyer, has a firm back home. It was just expected of me, I guess. But I love it.”
You rubbed his arm. “He’s good at it.”
Never one to accept a compliment easily, he turned it back around to you. “Not as good as Y/N,” he insisted. “You really should see your daughter in action. She truly is fantastic, and fierce, terrifyingly so. She can command a whole court room and then hand my ass to me like it’s nothing,” he laughed.
You nudged his arm, sipping your wine in hopes of hiding your sudden shyness behind your glass.
Most men would probably be intimidated by your intelligence, by how powerful you could be, but not Steve. He thought it was incredible. Attractive. He would never want you to be any different.
Your parents shared a look.
When the impromptu dinner party moved to the living room, everyone finally loosened up a little. Tonight was no longer about grilling Steve, or getting to the bottom of your feelings, or him feeling like he needed to gain your parent’s approval. Instead it was just people having fun, getting to know each other.
Your mom was the one who offered to clean up, ignoring both yours and Steve’s insistence at helping. You would have pushed had you not feared her wrath if you didn’t listen.
You and Steve sat next to each other, your legs thoughtlessly thrown in his lap like you would do during any normal visit to your apartment. Your dad tried not to draw too much attention to how natural it looked. You could insist he was nothing but a coworker all you wanted, but everyone in this apartment knew that was a lie.
“You a baseball fan, Steve?”
He nodded, swallowing his sip of beer. “Yeah, huge.”
Your brow furrowed, eyes darting between Steve and your father. That had conveniently never come up in conversation before. “Really?” you asked.
He laughed. He thought it was obvious, but clearly you had never been over to his place during baseball season. “For a little bit in college I coached a peewee baseball team. Got us all the way to the championships and my best player broke his arm on some monkey bars at a park nearby.”
The thought of him coaching a bunch of 7 year olds with the utmost sincerity made something in your stomach flutter. You fought back a smile, not only at the thought of him being a mentor, but at the way your dad’s face lit up. They were going to be talking about the ins and outs of baseball for hours, you could just tell, it was best to get out now.
Steve watched you get to your feet, a little intimidated by the idea of being left alone with your dad, but he didn’t argue it. “I’m gonna go help, mom. You two enjoy.” You squeezed Steve’s shoulder on the way out.
In the kitchen you let out a sigh, catching your mom’s attention. She raised her eyebrow in a silent question. “Dad’s started the baseball talk. I had to get out of there.”
She laughed. It was always the same thing. They hadn’t met a lot of boyfriends over the years, barely a handful while you were in college, but this was how your father decided who was worthy of his respect and who wasn’t. Steve might have just been the best one you brought to him so far. That was a good sign.
She was quiet for a bit, handing you dishes from the sink to dry. You quickly got into a routine. She washed, you dried, they sat in the rack for you to put away later. It was nice getting to do something so mundane with your mom again. You hadn’t seen her in so long. You made a mental note to visit them more often.
“So, he’s just a coworker, huh?”
Your cheeks flamed immediately. You knew the questions would start eventually, you just hadn’t thought she’d be so bold to ask while he was in the other room. “He is.”
“You flirt with all your coworkers like that?”
“Mom!”
“I wasn’t born yesterday, Y/N. You are head over heels for that boy,” she was very confident in that matter, “and he’s exactly the same.”
You tried to ignore how giddy that made you feel. Whether she knew it or not, you weren’t going to admit it, not even to her. “Whatever,” you mumbled, ignoring the embarrassment that creeped up the back of your neck to the tips of your ears.
Steve didn’t stay for much longer. Once the dishes were done, you headed back to the lounge where the two men were laughing together like they were old friends. You smiled at the sight. Your dad caught you smiling.
“I like this one, kiddo.”
You hummed, nudging his foot with yours, pulling a smile out of him. “Yeah, me too.”
Maybe you spooked him with that comment, or maybe all the attention was finally getting to him, but his decision to leave couldn’t have just come out of nowhere. “I should probably head out,” he announced. It was late and he had probably already overstayed his welcome by at least an hour.
“I’ll walk you out.”
It wasn’t much of a walk, but you wanted the extra 20 seconds with him, maybe even a kiss goodbye if you were lucky. He didn’t know how much you appreciated everything he did tonight. You could feel your parents' eyes on you as you followed him to the door, rapidly shooting a glare over your shoulder, which earned a laugh from your father. They proved your point that you couldn’t just stand at the door, so you followed him out and closed it behind you.
With the door shut, they couldn’t hear your conversation, thankfully. For the first time tonight, you and Steve were alone.
“Thank you,” you whispered, hands on his chest, fiddling with the material of his tie, almost appearing shy, which was a first for him. He had never seen you as anything other than confident. It only made you more endearing, letting him see this side of you— one that was probably only shared with him.
His hands settled on the sides of your face, thumb grazing the skin softly under your eye. “What for?”
“For being so cool with this. I didn’t mean to just drop this on you, but you were so…” You struggled to find the right word to sum him up. There were probably a thousand ways you could describe him, but ultimately nothing fit him more than perfection. “Perfect,” you finished.
Steve’s cheeks tinged red, a sweet blush dusting his face. “I’m not— It wasn’t— It was nothing. They were lovely, and your mom’s a really great cook.”
“They really liked you.”
He wouldn’t admit the way that made his heart flutter. “I liked them too.”
Something hung in the air between you at that notion. You shouldn’t have such a craving for your parents to like him. It was like you told your mom earlier, he was just a coworker. So why did he feel like so much more?
The way you were looking at him made him nervous. Wide eyed, unfaltering, like you were trying to decipher his deepest secrets just from looking into his eyes. He needed to get away before you consumed him whole and he told you everything. He stroked your cheek, then traced your top lip, trying to refrain from kissing the life out of you. He didn’t know if that was appropriate when your parents were just inside. You were the one who decided it was.
“I should probably get going. I think I’ve crashed enough of your night already.”
Any normal day you would have asked him to stay over, spent the night wrapped up in him and your sheets, but he didn’t want to impose anymore. Instead you had to settle for a goodbye kiss. One that nearly knocked you off your feet. The kiss was sweet, horribly intoxicating to say your parents were in the other room. It blew your mind to think a man who wasn’t your boyfriend could have such a lock on your heart.
It was you who pulled away first, brushing the tip of your nose against his, trying not to fall back into the trap of his lips. That was a hard task.
“Goodnight.”
You hummed, stealing one more kiss. You wished he didn’t have to go. “Goodnight, Steve.”
When the door closed behind him you took a moment to breathe, trying to push down the feeling of giddiness in your chest. You felt like a teenager with her first crush, grinning like an idiot, heart racing. What was Steve Harrington doing to you?
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Work had been draining, practically neverending for the last few days. Steve had been put on yet another high profile case and his blood pressure hadn’t dropped since the file was dropped onto his desk. Perry had handed it over with a knowing smile that he tried to avoid looking at too closely.
“This is a big one, Steve. If you don’t win this case, don’t bother coming back.”
The son of a state official had gotten himself into some deep shit. His father came to Perry personally to insist he get the best of the best on it. There was a lot riding on this win. The evidence was piled against him, looking like a pretty obvious conclusion, but Perry believed Steve would make the right choice. Perry thought if he pushed Steve enough that he would cave and betray your trust. Steve didn’t know what he was going to do.
He had a month. A whole month to figure out how he was going to win. He didn’t know for certain if he would be up against you, but with a case this big… he could take an educated guess that he would be pitted with the best prosecutor in the city. He was so screwed.
There was no time to waste. If he could make a flawless argument, with the very little he had to work with, then he didn’t have to go behind anyone’s back. It was going to be a lot of work, but he would spend every waking minute he could on this, only if it meant he could keep you out of it.
Perry wasn’t convinced that plan was going to work. For all that the younger man had done for his firm, he would give him the benefit of the doubt, but only until he messed up.
By the time he left that night Steve was still sitting at his desk with nothing. Perry had a strong feeling that was going to be a frequent thing until the kid realised there was no other way. “Remember what I said, Harrington!”
He sighed, dropping his head, taking a moment to breathe. After the dinner with your parents a few days ago, he thought his mind was made up. There was no way he could go through with it. Having Perry hang this over his head was weighing him down, he wasn’t the same Steve he normally was, even Robin had noticed.
She purposely passed his desk on her way out, just to ask about it. “What was that about?” she asked. Something was off, she was sure of it, he had been quiet since he was assigned his newest case that morning. Usually he would ask her endless questions throughout the day, to the point she considered moving desks to get away from him.
He didn’t need anyone to know about the current war in his mind. “Nothing,” he grumbled. He didn’t say another word as he picked up his bag and headed for the door. She didn’t press, but she was going to worry.
He headed home that night feeling like a complete monster. That was going to be a common theme for the foreseeable. He wished this could all be over– or that he could be better. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy.
As time ticked by and he kept coming up empty handed, he knew there was only one thing left to do. The option he’d been trying to put off for as long as possible. There was no going back once he did it though.
Steve had been at war with himself for 3 weeks. Sleepless nights, avoided phone calls, his mind plagued with thoughts of you all the time. He was running out of time. He tried so hard to put together a good fight, but he was working against far too much evidence. The kid was easily guilty, which made his life so much harder. After going to Perry for the 4th time and getting told his notes were less than satisfactory, he knew he only had one other choice. He was going to have to cheat.
He’d been pacing his apartment for the better part of an hour, eyeing the phone like it personally offended him, trying to work up the nerve to just call. If he didn’t do it soon he was going to lose all courage to do so. Stop being a pussy, he hissed at himself.
He grabbed the phone, furiously dialing the number he knew forwards and backwards before he could back out.
It started ringing, almost for a beat too long, until—
“District Attorney’s office, Y/N Y/L/N speaking.” Your tone was bored. After a long day of answering pointless phone calls and being shut down by potential witnesses, you wished it would stop ringing. At one point you even considered unplugging it at the wall, just to have some peace and quiet. If you had done that you never would have gotten to hear the lovely voice on the other end of the line.
“That was very professional. I have to say Miss Y/L/N, I’m actually a little turned on right now.”
Your eyes rolled but you couldn’t hide the smile that creeped its way onto your face. “What do you want, Steve?” He could hear the smile in your voice.
“I want to see you. Tonight. Let me come over.”
Nothing sounded nicer than getting to fall asleep beside him tonight, wrapped up in his arms. It would help take a lot of stress off your shoulders, but you really couldn’t afford a distraction. That was exactly what he was sometimes, stealing your attention, refusing to let you focus on your work. Sure you often did the same, but this trial was more important than ones from the past, just a week away, you really couldn’t afford to slack on the home stretch.
When you sighed into the receiver he had a feeling he wasn’t going to get the answer he wanted. “That sounds great…” you began.
“But?”
“But, I’m in a meeting until late, and I have a lot of work to do. I don’t know what time I’ll get home. Do you really want to spend most of your night in my apartment without me?”
You couldn’t see him, obviously, but you knew he was shrugging his shoulders. There was probably also a crease in his brow that he always got when he thought too hard. He wanted to see you tonight, and he would do whatever he had to in order to make that possible. “Well, I could just hang, maybe clean your room ‘cause lord knows you’re not gonna do it.”
You scoffed, but you couldn’t help but laugh because you knew it was true. “Steve!”
His laughter was like music to your ears. “I want to see you. Please. I like being in your space. It has your stuff and your smell– feels like you’re there even when you aren’t.”
“God, you’re creepy,” you poked. “Fine. Spare key is on top of the door frame, but do not eat that slice of cake in my fridge or I swear to god–”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Knowing you were going home to him at the end of the day made you feel lighter. You sank back into your desk chair, letting your eyes fall shut. “Gonna have dinner waiting for me when I get back like a good little housewife too?” you teased.
The way he laughed was like music to your ears. “Maybe. I make a mean boxed mac and cheese. Best in the city.”
“Best in the city? Wow. How can I pass that up?”
There was a beat of silence. You didn’t know when things got so easy between you. At first you fumbled around each other, arguing even in the heat of the moment, unable to put your ego’s aside, yet now he was the person you wanted to tell everything to, who you saw when you pictured yourself having fun, or who you wanted to always come home to at the end of the day. Maybe it was time for you to come clean about it. Maybe Steve needed to know how you felt if this was ever going to be something real.
“Was that your mystery man?” Carol caught you off guard, leaning against the door of your office, a shit-eating grin on her face.
You weren’t close to anyone in the office. You weren’t there to make friends. But if you were going to avoid anyone, especially with your secrets, it was Carol Perkins. She would blab to Tommy, who would tell the whole building, nevermind just your floor. It was a shit show you didn’t need to get yourself trapped in. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You didn’t even know why she thought she had the right to ask. “Are those the files for the Astor case that I asked for?”
She nodded, stepping inside to drop them onto your desk. You took them right away, eager to get started so you could see Steve sooner.
You thought the moment you thanked her and opened the file, she would have disappeared. Apparently she wasn’t getting the hint. Your head raised slowly, brows raising in her direction, questioning. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You can deny it all you want, but whenever you talk to that guy– whoever he is– you get this dumb, lovesick smile on your face. You might act like this badass all the time, but you’re whipped.” There was a teasing smile on her face.
You were a pretty fair boss, especially when it mattered. People like Carol didn’t deserve fairness. “Is there something I can help you with, Carol, or are you gonna keep poking your nose where it isn’t wanted in my love life?”
She didn’t say another word. Obviously, she knew she overstepped. The woman walked away, tail between her legs. You were left to your own devices until the meeting at 7, trying not to think too hard about Steve making himself at home in your home. The next few hours were going to go by far too slowly.
When you finally did get to kick your shoes off in the doorway of your apartment, it was like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. You were met with the sight of Steve standing over a pot on your stove, work clothes still on, and a rag thrown over his shoulder. He looked like the true epitome of home.
“Smells great in here. You really are a chef after all, hm?” You plastered your front to his back, kissing his clothed shoulder.
“I told you, finest mac and cheese in all of New York.”
You ate together on the couch, chatting about your days like you were any normal couple. Neither of you had meant to fall into this rhythm, but you also wouldn’t say you were upset about it.
Steve finished his food and immediately decided he needed to lie down, like it was some hearty homemade meal that warranted a long nap to recover from. It was sweet, seeing how relaxed he was in your place. Maybe it was his easy demeanour that urged you to ask what had been on your mind for a while. The moment you finished your food you set it down on the coffee table and turned your full attention to him.
“Steve?” He gave you no sign that he heard you, but you knew he was listening. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
He hummed, cracking one eye open out of curiosity. The look on your face told him it was nothing bad. “Shoot.”
“Dinner, with my parents,” he tensed, head lifting off the arm of your couch just slightly, like he knew where this was going, “you got nervous when my mom asked about your hometown. Why?”
He shrugged, dropping his head back, suddenly uninterested. “I don’t know, some bad high school memories, I guess.”
“You’re lying.” You knew every tell he had. That came with being a good lawyer. You could read him like an open book, which only made you more curious as to what he was hiding. What really went on in that tiny town of Hawkins? “Come on. If you didn’t know, I’m sort of a big-shot lawyer, I can weasel the truth out of anyone.”
That may be true in a courtroom, but this was in your apartment, during a chilled hangout between two off duty lawyers. He didn’t owe you anything. “Nope. This isn’t a trial. I’m not under oath, I don’t have to answer.”
You rolled your eyes, sitting up straight, legs tucked underneath you. He noticed the giddy smile crossing your face and knew your next suggestion was about to be slightly ridiculous. “So, let’s pretend it is,” you shrugged, leaning forward to rest your hands on his knees. From where he laid he had a perfect view down the collar of your top, which was doing wonders to get him to agree to your silly game.
“We’re in and out of court all the time, you’d think at home you would want to relax. Don’t you ever get tired of thinking about work?”
“Nope.”
He sighed. This was one grilling he wasn’t getting out of. “Is this some kind of weird idea of foreplay? Have you been holding out on me?”
“Maybe. Are you playing the game or not, Steven?”
He deliberated on it. Humming quietly, really dragging it out, just to see you get impatient. You rolled your eyes, pinching his side. He hissed, batting your hand away, ignoring the grin on your face. “If we’re doing this, I need another beer.”
He tapped your hip, signalling for you to get off him briefly. You huffed dramatically, sinking back into the cushions as you waited for him to raid your fridge for the beers you kept stocked solely for him. It was a sweet gesture, one he hadn’t fully realised you even did. “Want anything?” he called, moving around your kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards like he owned the place. It made your heart tug at the strangely domestic vibe it presented.
“Answers.”
“Ha-ha.”
Your smile was wide as he headed back to you. Pushing his buttons was one of your favourite things in the world. You patted the seat next to you and Steve could feel the dread settling in his gut. He hated talking about his parents, having to let people into the shitty childhood he endured, especially when he saw how loved you clearly were by your parents. It was depressing, and he hated the way people looked at him when they found out, he didn’t want you to look at him any differently, he didn’t need pity.
You cleared your throat, sitting up on your knees so you could tower over him. “The state of New York versus Steve Harrington, charged with lying to my face.”
The hand that wasn’t holding his beer found your hip, tracing circles on the clothed skin. Amusement swirled in his gaze as he peered up at you.
“Start talking, Harrington, you’re looking at a serious sentence here.”
“Oh, really? What sentence is that?”
“6 hours in my bed, minimal clothing, no chance of parole.”
“Then I might just perjure myself.” He tugged you sideways into his lap, keeping his arms wound tightly around your waist, burying his head in your neck. He planted a loud open mouthed kiss on the skin under your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine.
You giggled. Up close like this you had a better opportunity to see every flicker of nerves in his eyes. It was easier to tell he was lying. “Your honour, the defendant is trying to bribe the prosecution with sex.”
“Aren’t you the judge?”
A hum. Whoops. “And the prosecution, and the jury, so you really don’t want to get on my bad side. If I were you I’d come clean pretty fast.” It was hard to think about anything when your fingers were messing with the buttons on his shirt.
You were a huge distraction, making it hard to form a lie that would save him from having to be honest. He said the first thing that came to mind. “Fine. It was a shitty town, where I had a bad breakup before I went to college and she spread a pretty nasty rumour about me. Brings back bad memories to think about it.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. He scratched at the side of his nose, nervous under your gaze. That was how you knew he was lying. “Um, objection, bullshit.” You snatched his beer bottle, taking a sip, which you quickly regretted. Your nose scrunched and you handed it back as he laughed. He found you so painfully endearing.
“Um, no, not bullshit.”
“Are you kidding? That’s, like, the worst lie I’ve ever heard.”
“I doubt that.”
“Oh, so you admit it is a lie?”
His head dropped as he sighed, knowing he was caught. Although, technically you never believed him in the first place. It couldn’t be that bad, that was what you were telling yourself. Surely he didn’t commit any crimes, or else he wouldn’t have been allowed to be a lawyer, but what else could have him in such discomfort at the mere thought of the place he came from. Maybe your persistence was only making it worse. You didn’t want him to resent you for pushing on a matter he really didn’t want to discuss.
You frowned, brushing your fingers over the soft hair at the side of his head. “Steve, I’m sorry. I’ll drop it, just say the word.”
This wasn’t the first time you had been gentle with him over the time you’d been seeing each other, but something about the gentle touch you were giving him now made him want to tell you everything. “It’s okay.” He turned his head, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand. He took a deep breath, preparing himself to tell someone about the part of his life he’d kept secret for so long. “I don’t talk to my parents– well, I call my mom once in a blue moon. I didn’t have a great childhood, haven’t been home since I left for college. I’ve sort of been on my own since I was 18. Family, and home, it’s just something I don’t like talking about.”
Just as he suspected you looked at him with the utmost pity.
“See, that,” he pointed to your face, “is exactly why I don’t tell people.”
“Steve–”
“I don’t want pity. Yes, it was shitty, but I’m over it.” He took your face into his hands, kissing you so softly that it brought tears to your eyes. “I’m happy now.”
Heart thundering in your chest, you smiled. “Me too.”
Which is why it made it so much harder to do what he came for. He didn’t put his plan into motion until long after you fell asleep. He was supposed to be asleep beside you as well, but the thoughts of betraying your trust had stopped him from closing his eyes for more than 5 minutes at a time.
He made sure you were out cold before he creeped out of bed. If you were to find him rummaging through your things it would all be over before it even started.
Steve knew where you kept your bag. It was in the same place every time he came over, tucked safely down the side of your couch where you thought no one would see it. But he did. He was looking out for it. And now he held it in his hands like a prize.
He almost couldn’t believe he was doing this.
He took another few minutes to digest the situation before he even unzipped the bag. It was just so wrong. His entire body felt like he was betraying you— although he believed he really betrayed you the moment he actually considered doing this. Steve felt evil as he opened the file, flicking through the pages of your handwritten notes. It was all here. Everything he needed to win. The evidence you had against Steve’s client, the witness, what you planned on asking them; it was a gold mine. He let out a breath.
“Fuck.”
He tucked the notes, which had once been neatly organised and colour co-ordinated, back into the folder, shoving it back into your bag where he got it from. Now he just had to act normal until the day of the trial. That couldn’t be that hard, right?
Trying not to disturb you too badly when climbing back into bed was a challenge. You had been in and out of sleep the moment he left, so of course you noticed when he came back.
“Where’d you go?” you mumbled, sleepily, reaching for him.
He wound his arm around your waist, trying not to think about how he was an awful person. His face nuzzled into the back of your neck. For a minute he didn’t respond, he just breathed you in while he still could. You were smart, it wasn’t going to take you long to figure out what he did, and who knows what would happen to this thing you had when you found out. He needed to cherish you while it lasted.
He kissed the back of your neck. “Was just grabbing some water.”
You barely heard him, already halfway back into your slumber now that he was here again.
As he laid there holding you, not able to sleep a wink, he began questioning every move he ever made. Had he just made the worst mistake of his life?
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Trial day.
Steve’s hands were shaking all morning. He was nearly high off adrenaline by the time he stood to rise for the judge.
The case felt like it got underway fast, it always did during trials like these. The opening statements flew by, your first pieces of evidence, followed by your witness and the examination, it was all just noise as Steve waited for his turn. His knee was bouncing nervously under the table, fingers tapping irritatingly on his folder until his name was called.
“Defence, do you have any questions for the witness?”
It was finally his chance to turn this his way. He glanced briefly at the defendant, nodding in a silent promise, before he got to his feet. “Yes, your honour.”
You shuffled in your seat. He saw it out of the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t put it down to fear just yet, he would bet money on the fact you probably thought you still had this in the bag, but he was about to prove you wrong.
“As per the police report, you were high. Is that right, Miss Williams?”
“Yes.”
“So high that you were seeing things throughout the night.” He checked his notes. “You told my client at one point in the night that you were seeing spiders. Lots and lots of spiders. Can you confirm that’s true?”
“Yes. That’s true.”
He turned his attention to the jury, ignoring the way you were silently fuming in your seat. She had been a solid witness for you. You had spent hours upon hours coaching her on what to say, yet somehow Steve had been able to undo it all in days. It didn’t make sense.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, surely even the passenger of the vehicle, a solid witness, can’t be credible if she’s hallucinating. Who’s to say what she saw wasn’t all in her head? Is it worth taking the risk that her story isn’t true?”
With a sigh you roughly crossed out half of your notes. Onto plan b as long as there were no other surprises.
But Steve wasn’t done. He had one more fantastic trick up his sleeve that was sure to make this a guaranteed win. The one thing you wouldn’t possibly see coming, because he hadn’t thought of it until he saw your case. As he rose to his feet, he glanced at you briefly, something sharp tugging in his chest at the thought of what he was about to do. This was it– the final nail in the coffin.
“Your honour, I’d like to call Officer Ryan Becker to the stand.”
Your eyes widened, head whipping around to look at the man approaching the stand. The arresting officer, the one who gave a statement insisting the boy had been the one behind the wheel, the one who had killed an innocent man. When your team contacted him to testify a few days ago, he refused. Now you know why. Although you didn’t know how he could possibly help Steve’s case.
“What the hell is going on?” Tommy whispered.
You shook your head, tapping your pen furiously against your file. “I have no idea.”
“Officer Becker, I’d like to make it known to the court that you revised your statement regarding the initial arrest. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
Your heart dropped. This was something you hadn’t prepared for. Usually you were organised, but Steve had surprised you for once, and you had no idea how.
“When you pulled the car over was my client behind the wheel?”
“No. He was in the back seat.”
Steve nodded. “So, why did you say my client was the one driving?”
“I thought he might have climbed into the back seat, trying to get away with it.”
“And what do you think now?”
“I think someone else was driving and he took off. When we searched the car there was a hoodie that didn’t belong to anyone that was in the car– my officers have yet to find who it belongs to, but I’d say that’s the guy you’re looking for.”
Steve glanced at you, finding a look on your face that he had never seen you possess before. It was a horrible mix of shock, heartbreak and realisation.
The pieces were beginning to fit together in your head. How his counter argument was perfectly lining up with yours, where this new testimony had come from, how he begged to come over the other night, how your notes were out of order when you opened them up this morning. That night at your apartment when he disappeared in the middle of the night, he was looking at your notes, something you both promised you would never do. That bastard.
When your eyes met he didn’t think he’d ever seen someone look at him with such rage. You knew. And he knew you knew. Fuck you, you mouthed. He pretended it didn’t sting.
“Just so we’re all clear, Officer Becker, you don’t think my client was the one driving after all? Which would mean he couldn’t have been the one to hit the victim.”
“That’s right.”
“Thank you. No further questions, your honour.”
How you were feeling now was how Steve must feel all the time. That moment when you realise you’ve lost grip on this whole thing, it’s unnerving. You’d been blindsided by the man you thought loved you. You weren’t just having to come to terms with losing your first case in nearly a year, you were coming to terms with losing Steve.
You barely heard the deliberation from the jury over the sound of your racing thoughts. You already knew you lost and a murderer was walking free, you didn’t need to look at the shock on the face of the judge to know that.
Your stuff was packed up in record speed, compromised files shoved carelessly into your bag in a rage. The people around you were ignored, even when they tried to catch your eye or ask what just happened. You weren’t in the talking mood.
A voice still called out to you on your way out of the court house, the very one you were hoping to ignore.
“Y/N!”
You didn’t look back. He didn’t even deserve that. “Don’t you dare.”
It took hours, a little bit of wine, and a tiny catalyst for you to comprehend what happened today. The straw that broke the camel’s back was something so small, a tie he must have left during one of his visits. It shouldn’t have upset you as much as it did. That was the thing that got you up off your couch and marching over to Steve’s office to give him a serious piece of your mind.
The firm needed to look into better security. All it took for you to get up to their floor was a couple bats of your lashes in the security guard’s direction and you were in the elevator.
An uncertain kid was the first person you ran into that actually tried to stop you. He wasn’t successful, but you would give him credit for trying.
“Excuse me, ma’am, you can’t be up here.”
It wasn’t the kid’s fault. He looked no older than 20, braces still on, curly hair wild and out of control. He still should have known not to mess with a woman who had clearly been scorned. You whipped around to look at him, the look in your eye almost knocking him off balance. “Is Steve Harrington here?”
He looked lost. He was barely an associate, probably hadn’t even been at the firm for 6 months, he had no idea what to do when a furious woman came bounding into the office when most people had gone home. “Um, no.”
“Then who is?”
John Perry wasn't a man you had the displeasure of meeting. Until now.
You didn’t knock, didn’t think he deserved the decency of it, just barged right in to make your point. He didn’t like that– at least until he realised who had forced their way into his office.
“Can I help you?” he hissed.
“What did you make him do?”
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“Steve Harrington.”
“Right.” The man laughed cruelly. “What makes you think he didn’t do it on his own?”
No matter how angry you were at him, you knew he wouldn’t have instigated this whole thing. Steve wouldn’t put his career on the line unless someone gave him reason to. You had a very strong gut feeling that it was to do that or get fired. You just needed proof. “Because he doesn’t have an evil bone in his body. I’ve heard rumours about you though, so I have a pretty good feeling about who’s really responsible.”
“Mr Harrington did what was required of him to win a case. Simple as that.”
“By having him commit criminal conduct?” you sneered. “He could be disbarred for that. Is that how little you care about your best attorney?”
“How do you know he’s my best attorney?”
“Because I’ve never gone against anyone better than him.” That was the truth. You just wish Steve believed you when you said that. If he had, maybe he wouldn’t have gone down this dangerous route.
“Is that why you’re sleeping with him?”
You had a feeling you now knew exactly why Steve did it. Your relationship was a secret, undisclosed to every client you had ever shared, which was a basis for disbarment on its own. Adding a breach of client confidentiality to the mix wasn’t going to make much difference. Steve was screwed either way. “You’re a piece of shit.”
He shrugged. “I can deal with that, but can he?”
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
From the moment you left the court room the other day, to speaking to Perry, to the present, your blood boiled. Every single thought of Steve sparked a rage in you that was nearing violent. You were waiting to see him again to blow up at him, but he made himself scarce so far; No calls, no visits to your apartment. It was like he just disappeared off the face of the Earth, probably out of shame, which was good. That was what he deserved.
It couldn’t last forever though.
Eventually the guilt ate away at him too much. He needed to see you, to talk to you and admit what he did was wrong. You should have known he would— you knew him too well.
Your boss had been chewing you out all week for messing up such an important case. He couldn’t believe you were so off your game when you needed to be on it most. If only he knew. But finding Steve outside your apartment after such a shitty day was the last thing you needed.
Even hunched over in the dark you could recognise him. You had spent far too many hours studying his profile not to notice every little tell that he had. This was the first time in a long time you hadn’t been happy to see him. Instead an uncomfortable weight settled in your chest. Never in the time you’d known Steve had you once been mad at him. He was great, nearly perfect, and he never gave you reason to be anything but happy with him. So this newfound hurt in your chest was a tough pill to swallow.
He heard the clicking of heels before he saw you. He knew they belonged to you.
His body tensed, although he wasn’t sure this was a fight he was ever going to be ready for. If he couldn’t hold up against you in court, how could he do so now? Did he even want to?
“You stole my case file.” It wasn’t a question. You knew. He knew you knew. But as a lawyer you also knew you couldn’t just accuse him of such a thing. His job could be in serious trouble if higher ups found out he was cheating to win cases. So to save both your asses, on the very off chance that anyone was listening, not that they would be outside of your apartment building, you gave him the chance to own up to it on his own. “Didn’t you?”
It had been eating him up inside for days. Steve didn’t know how to live with himself when he wasn’t being honest, especially to the woman he loved— not that you knew that part yet.
Part of you thought he might try and deny it just to save face, but you should have known he would come clean. He knew you valued honesty. And he was far past being able to lie about this any longer.
“Yeah.”
You nodded. You already knew. Of course you did. It was your job to notice little things like the changes in his behaviour the last few days. That didn’t mean you anticipated how strange it would feel to hear him confirm it. It wasn’t like those dramatic twists in movies. You weren’t suddenly filled with anger or ready to lash out at him in the middle of the street. You were just… disappointed.
Your lips pursed, arms folded over your chest as you stared down at his sad form. He had never looked so small before. “Why?”
“Does it matter now?” He knew you well. He had a strong feeling this thing between you was over. His reasoning wasn’t going to change your mind.
Sadly, he was right. Your shoulders sagged and the ache in your chest worsened at the thought of this being done. Steve had been good to you. Good for you. You hadn’t thought it would end like this. You didn’t want it to end like this, with animosity. Nor did you want him to just accept that it was over. If he supposedly felt as strongly for you as you did for him, you wanted him to fight for you. Right now he was just giving in to what you wanted, when he should be begging on his knees for another chance.
You huffed. “No. But I still have a right to know. Someone got away with murder. A whole family didn’t get justice for their child, for what? Not only that but I could get fired if anyone found out I was sleeping with the opposing counsel and inadvertently giving him access to restricted documents. It doesn’t just affect us, it affects real people, and my job too. That’s not fair.”
He nodded. The thought of the kid getting let off scot free had kept him awake for days. He hadn’t just hurt you, he’d hurt a lot of people trying to cater to his boss. He wasn’t sure how to live with himself. “You’re right.” What was the point in lying when you already knew? “I stole it. I read your notes. I built my argument directly based on yours. It was wrong.”
Already knowing hadn’t made it any easier to hear it directly. It didn’t make it any less confusing either. “Why?” you prompted.
“I needed a win.”
“You messed with my job because you needed a fucking win?” you scoffed.
He could tell you about the conversation with his boss, which was technically blackmail, but there was no use for any of it. He had done something wrong and he needed to face the consequences, whether that meant losing you or not. “Yes.”
“You’re unbelievable. And to think I loved you!” It slipped out. That wasn’t how you intended to tell him. In fact you never wanted to tell him in the first place. You and Steve were meant to be nothing more than a fling, a way to let off steam when work got too difficult, yet you accidentally fell in love. You didn’t think you ever loved someone as much as you did Steve. That was why this hurt so much. Clearly he didn’t feel the same way if he was willing to stab you in the back like this.
Steve was frozen, but he managed to get to his feet, meeting your eye for the first time tonight. He had an inkling that you held strong feelings for him, but he never thought he’d see the day where you admitted it out loud. Knowing he felt exactly the same, that the one thing he wanted was in his grasp but he couldn’t have it, was going to ruin him. His stomach churned and for a split second he could have sworn he was going to vomit for real. “What?” he choked out.
You shook your head. You shouldn’t have done that. “I didn’t mean that.” Now was the worst possible time for those feelings to come to light.
“No, I think you did.”
“I said loved, Steve. Like past tense. It doesn’t matter now because this,” you motioned between the two of you, “is done.” You tried to head past him and go inside, but he obviously wasn’t okay with your conversation— or maybe your relationship— coming to an end.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“This can’t be how it ends.”
His audacity had you in disbelief. “This is on you, Harrington. Suck it up and accept that you messed this up. Maybe just try and be a better lawyer next time.” You didn’t entirely mean that, more so a heat of the moment/angry thing. He was a great lawyer, arguably second only to you, but a great lawyer shouldn’t need to cheat their way into being the best. “Don’t call me. Don’t visit me. I don’t want to hear from you again.”
With the utmost gentleness he caught your wrist. “Y/N, please,” he wasn’t above begging. “I know that I fucked up, but—“ He ran a hand through his hair, already disheveled from how many times he must have already done so. The look in his eyes was nothing short of desperation, something you weren’t used to seeing from him. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long, long time. I can’t lose you.”
You worked hard for your career. Too hard to throw it away for some guy. Even if Steve wasn’t just some guy, but the greatest man that had ever stepped into your life, you couldn’t risk it. If anyone found out what he’d done he could be disbarred, and you didn’t even want to know what they would do to you if they found the two of you fraternising. It would look planned. You didn’t need the bar to think you were rigging cases for each other.
Sometimes good things had to come to an end. Steve had been a really good thing while it lasted. That was over the moment he opened your file.
“I think you already have.”
He didn’t make a big deal of it. Didn’t cry or shout like some people might have. He knew it was over. And you both held far too much respect for the other to cause a scene. Instead he nodded, letting his head hang between his shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
You were surprised to find tears burning your eyes and an awful choked up feeling overwhelming you. Things with him had been easy, fun, never overbearing. You didn’t know it meant so much more to you than that until right now.
“Goodbye, Steve.”
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Life without Steve was boring. That was your biggest takeaway from this whole situation.
You hadn’t realised how much he was intertwined in every aspect of your life until he was no longer there. Cooking was dull, going home to an empty apartment was daunting, falling asleep on your own was miserable and court was downright boring. Who were you supposed to rile up? To tease with your little skirts and unbuttoned blouses? If Steve wasn’t there it took half the fun out of it.
At first you thought he might have been transferring cases. He probably guessed that you weren’t in the mood to see him, or play his games. That was smart. 2 or 3 cases you could handle. That was fine. After that it got weird.
By the time it got to the 8th you didn’t find it smart anymore. Now he was avoiding you— refusing to face his consequences. You were tired of him acting like a child, sending Buckley in his place. You couldn’t exactly go in all guns blazing unless you knew for certain that’s what he was doing. You didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.
The solution was simple. At the earliest convenience you were going to ask Robin flat out if Steve was switching cases. Once you got your answers then you could storm his apartment in a fury.
It was the defendant who called for the recess, whispering in Robin’s ear about needing a break. You didn’t blame him, you had just gone in pretty hard with one of your arguments. He was rattled, which you wanted, for more reasons than just to win this trial.
Robin was fast, you would give that to her. The moment she was allowed out of the judge’s sight, she practically ran out of the court room. You had to jog in your stupid heels just to try and keep up with her.
“Hey, Buckley?”
Her head raised, eyes widening upon discovering who called for her. Over the years you and Robin had shared no more than 10 words, only when you had to. You weren’t even sure if you had her first name correct. Now here you were chasing her down during a recess in your trial. Her stomach churned with a horrible feeling that something was about to go down. It wouldn’t be the first time she had a run-in with a prosecutor over something silly; Jonathan Byers could get very passionate about his cases.
You could see the fear on her face. You offered her a smile in the hopes of disarming her. “It’s Robin, right?”
She nodded. Either she wasn’t much of a talker, or she was slightly afraid of you. You couldn’t say you blamed her after you just annihilated her inside the courtroom.
“I’m not here to talk about the case, don’t worry.”
She visibly relaxed, letting out a breath. “Thank god. You know, Byers gets very loud when things don’t go his way in court, so recess has become about me hiding from him for 15 minutes. Getting paired with you these last few cases has been a blessing in disguise— well, aside from all the losing. I don’t know how Steve does it. Has anyone ever told you you’re a fantastic prosecutor?”
Okay, so scratch the idea that she didn’t talk much. She must have noticed your wide-eyed stare.
She laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck like she suddenly grew really shy. “Sorry, I word-vomit a lot. I’m surprised Steve hasn’t mentioned it before.”
Okay… so she also knew about you and Steve. At least that wouldn’t make what you were about to ask confusing. “That’s what I wanted to ask you about actually. Not that I don’t think you’re great at your job, but where’s Steve?”
“Oh, you didn’t hear?”
Your heart dropped. “Hear what?”
“He quit. Last week.”
“What, why?” None of this could be a coincidence. The same time he cheated to win, for the first time ever in his career, then he just up and quit his job a couple weeks later? You thought you knew him pretty well and all of this was out of character for him. Something more was going on and you had to find out what.
“He didn’t say, and Perry wouldn’t tell anyone. But it’s Steve, you know? I’m sure he’s fine. He always is.”
If only she knew. You didn't know what to say, so you nodded, forcing a smile that you hoped was convincing enough.
Sensing she made it awkward, like always, she took the opportunity to dip out. “So, uh, see you in there?”
You nodded. “Yeah.”
You needed to talk to Steve.
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
Steve hadn’t had a visitor in weeks. He didn’t have many friends, not in the city anyway. And you still weren’t talking to him. There was no reason for anyone to visit his apartment unless he ordered takeout or something. So the knock at 9pm startled him. Meant he had to pause his tireless job search and actually speak to someone.
He never expected that someone to be you.
His surprise was evident. Wide eyes, mouth opening and closing without a word coming out. It was awkwardly silent for a moment.
He was a mess. Hair dirty and unkempt, which he tried to rapidly smooth down in an effort to look slightly put together. He was clad in a pair of sweatpants he’d had since high school (covered in holes and who knows what) and a shirt from law school. Worst of all, he looked sad. Tired. That was what struck you the most.
You were much more put together— at least on the outside. Hair in a neat bun, kept out of your face. Your red button up blouse, pin-striped slacks and heels making you look professional— put together. He would never be able to guess how torn up you were inside. How much you’d been suffering without him for weeks. Your hands weren’t empty either. A bottle of wine in one hand and a bag of takeout in the other. Clearly you had come here with a purpose. He would love to know what that was considering the last time you saw him hadn’t been great.
He was the first to break the silence. “Y/N?”
You smiled tiredly, “hey.”
“What are you, um, what are you doing here?”
The sigh you let out was deep. “Spoke to your boss. A couple times actually.” It was a simple statement, but it said a lot more than you let on. “I kept waiting for you to show up in court, but they just kept putting me with Buckley. So I asked about you. He told me you quit. Why did you quit, Steve?”
He was a fantastic lawyer. Steve’s arguments kept you on your toes, whether he won or not. No other defence attorney challenged you quite like he did. Giving that up was a dumb idea, especially if he was giving it up for you.
He shrugged. “Wasn’t feeling it anymore.”
You scoffed. “Steve.”
He could tell from the warning in your tone that it wasn’t a bright idea to mess with you. His shoulders sagged. It was probably going to sound pathetic if he was being totally honest. Telling you he gave up his entire career because he couldn’t live with how he wronged you. Who does that for a girl they’re barely even in a relationship with?
There was no way you were leaving here without an answer you deemed to be real. And you were a prosecutor, you knew when people were lying. Your gaze was strong, unfaltering, and the food was rapidly going cold.
“Why don’t we eat and I’ll tell you whatever you want to know?” If he was going to be interrogated he at least wanted something out of it. The wine might make it easier to open up, and a good meal sounded like a great idea right now. He didn’t remember the last time he’d eaten properly. Takeout might not be healthy per-say, but it was a lot more filling than his new routine of toast for every meal.
For a second he thought you were going to protest, but then he was standing in front of you, almost too close, offering to plate your Chinese food and you couldn’t say no. Those puppy dog eyes of his had always been your weakness.
“Okay.”
You kicked off your shoes and slipped off your jacket, following him to the kitchen where he was taking plates out of the cupboard. You moved to pour the wine but a hand gently wrapped around your wrist.
“You sit, I’ll do it.”
You weakly protested, but he wasn’t listening, already popping the cork to tip the dark red liquid into two glasses. Maybe adding a drip or two more to your glass. Not that he was trying to get you drunk, but he mentally deduced that the looser your limbs, the nicer you might be about the stuff he was about to admit.
Your back was pressed to the counter, watching him closely as he moved around the small kitchen. He looked different than when you last saw him. Not too noticeably, more in the way he held himself that you could only see if you studied him as closely as you had. His posture was more curled in on himself, his shoulders looking permanently tight. The easy confidence you once admired him for was gone, replaced by something self-conscious. Your chest ached at the idea you might have done this to him.
You were so focused that you almost failed to notice him pausing in front of you with your glass.
“I’m serious, go sit, put your feet up. I’ve got it in here.”
You nodded, taking your drink and heading to the couch. The first gulp was purely for courage, then you put it out of reach to stop tempting you. You needed a clear head if you were going to talk honestly. That only meant the nerves were eating you alive though.
When he finally came back with two plates of food in his hands, you panicked. The whole point of your visit was to extend an olive branch, yet you were seconds away from chickening out. Although he should be the one to talk first. You might have made the trip here to fix things, but he had a lot more to apologise for.
The two of you ate in silence. Nothing like the way you used to eat together, when you’d ramble on about whatever came to mind, until you literally ran out of things to say. Now it was just awkward, bordering on painful. You dreaded taking your last bite when you would finally have to talk about it.
Steve couldn’t wait. He was waiting weeks for this opportunity. He never actually thought it would come. Now that it was in front of him there wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to waste it. “I want to start by saying I’m sorry. I’m a real asshole, and I broke your trust, and if you can find it in your heart to give me a second chance,” he inhaled sharply, “whether that’s just as a friend, or whatever we were, I promise I will never do that again.”
“Okay.”
He paused, brows furrowing. Have you lost your mind? “Okay? What do you mean, okay?” He deserved a little more pushback than that surely. You couldn’t just give into him.
“I know why you did it,” you admitted. You had been stirring over it for weeks. “That night after the trial I went to your office. I was angry, I’d been drinking and I wanted to yell at you. I found Perry instead.”
Steve sighed. He wanted to protect you from ever having to know about his ultimatum. Although, if he just told you in the first place this whole thing might not have happened. “He told you?”
You shook your head. “He didn’t have to. I knew you’d never do that on your own merit. Then he said something about us sleeping together and it just made sense.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t tell him about us. He just knew, and he threatened to go to the bar and tell them. I couldn’t risk that.”
“So, you quit?”
“Yeah.”
“Why? Honestly this time.”
He sighed deeply, sinking into the couch. He scratched at the side of his nose, a nervous tick he had. Steve didn’t like being vulnerable. He liked solving problems simply, even if it meant he had to suffer. “I just felt disgusted with myself. I shouldn’t have to cheat to win, or sabotage your career for my own gain. I just want to help people, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do, and that’s what my boss is supposed to want to do. The idea that he could ask me to do something so unethical just blew my mind– and I used our relationship to do it.”
You rubbed your hand over his knee. “I don’t blame you.”
“I do. I should have said no, or figured the case out on my own. I should have been smarter.”
You shook your head. “Steve, no. If you can blame yourself then I guess I’m sorry too, for pushing you to that point.” It was a hard task getting him to look you in the eye. “These last few weeks haven’t just been awful for you. I miss you,” you whispered. Your heart physically ached thinking about being apart from him for that long again. “You were so much more than some dumb hookup to me, and I didn’t realise until I was already walking away. Even when I was angry at you, I couldn’t escape how strong my feelings were. I don’t want our jobs to come between us, ever, and I’m sorry that they did.”
One of his big hands cupped your cheek, thumb rubbing gently under your eye. The expression on his face was rather neutral, but his eyes said everything his face didn’t. He didn’t need an apology from you. None of this was ever really about you. Seeing you try and do everything to bridge that distance that he created, it just proved to him that he didn’t want to let you go as long as he could help it. “I’m in love with you.”
As a lawyer you were pretty good at schooling your expressions when it came to surprises— people admitted things in court that you were unaware of all the time— but he must have seen how slightly your eyes widened because he quickly jumped to do damage control. He was assuming the worst, completely forgetting you had done the same thing to him a few weeks ago. A surprise love confession wasn’t new to you.
“I’m not just saying that, or looking for an easy way out, I quit because I realised that I didn’t want any of that as much as I wanted you. I feel like I can’t breathe without you.”
You nodded, stomach doing flips as you clambered into his lap, with all the grace of a newborn doe. “I’m so glad you said that because I’ve been pretending like I haven’t been mentally planning our wedding for months now.” His laughter swirled together with yours. “I love you, Steve. I’m in love with you. And fuck Perry, and the bar, I don’t care who knows.” Sure it’d mean filling out an extra form every time you shared a case, but so be it.
Steve hadn’t felt this light in months. He placed loud, sloppy kisses one after another on whatever parts of your face he could reach, muttering an ‘I love you’ between every one. He didn’t know how to stop when it kept making you laugh, the sound so angelic.
It was you who ended it, turning your head to the side slightly when he moved to kiss your cheek, managing to catch his lips. Every emotion you felt tonight was poured into that kiss, turning what once might have been just a peck into an intense display of passion, as if you were making up for the time you missed out on. Neither of you wanted to take it further, not tonight. That wasn’t what you both needed.
You didn’t know who pulled away first. It was probably mutual. For a moment you just pressed your foreheads together, breaths mingling, his hands rubbing up and down your back. He needed to feel you, to know you were really there.
Sitting in the quiet with him was nice, now that it was all out there, your feelings bared. You hadn’t meant for your eyes to stray, but you looked curiously at his computer, the one he’d obviously been glued to before you showed up. “What were you looking at?” You nodded your head in his computer’s direction. You could barely see the tab that was open from where you were sitting.
He took your hand, leading you over to the desk where the computer sat. “Job listings.” You took a seat, brow scrunching at the words on the screen. You thought you might see listings for some of the top law firms in the city, maybe even outside of New York, but you found nothing of the sort.
You frowned as you scrolled through the various teacher jobs, the occasional coaching one, like he mentioned he used to do in college. “Steve, none of these job listings are for attorney’s.”
He nodded slowly, like he hadn’t wanted you to know that part. “I know.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I have a meeting with the bar association, a week today. I’m gonna tell them what I did.”
Your eyes widened and you rose to your feet, shaking your head rapidly. “You’ll lose your license. You can’t do that.” As much as you hated breaking the rules, you wouldn’t tell anyone what he did. He was a good guy, an even better lawyer, he deserved to keep working law. You were happy to keep a secret for someone like him.
“I know.”
“Then why—“ You seemed much more upset than he was about this.
His hands found your upper arms, squeezing gently. The smile on his face wasn’t scared, or worried, he looked happy if anything. “It’s okay. I’ve done a lot of thinking lately, and I don’t think that’s what I ever really wanted to do. It was just what was expected of me, what my dad wanted. I think it’s time to find out who Steve really is.”
The smile that creeped on your face was fond. You remembered how happy he was when telling your father about the baseball team he used to coach. Maybe he really was meant for something softer than law. “So, you’re gonna be Mr Harrington, the teacher?”
He shrugged. “I think I’d like to be a coach. Some of the best memories I have as a kid was when I was playing sports. Those coaches were the only guys who ever really believed in me. I want to be able to make a kid like me feel like that.”
Your fingers brushed through the messy strands of his hair. “And you will. I think you’d be really great at that, Steve.” He leaned into your touch, letting his eyes flutter shut as your nails lightly scratched his scalp. Not everyone had the courage to alter the course of their life this far into a career path. Steve had spent 10 years with law before realising it wasn’t the right fit. You respected that. “I’m really proud of you.”
His eyes lit up. Your heart just about broke.
“Has no one ever told you that, honey?”
The addition of the pet name almost gave him a heart attack. He shook his head.
“Then I’ll just have to make sure I tell you every day, because…” you leaned in for a kiss, “I love you, and I’m proud of you.” Finally loved and on the right path to a career that was going to make him happy, Steve Harrington never had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t ever again.
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