the clown house @mourirderire - Tumblr Blog

dustin doesn't know pt2 - steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader

wc: 11,446 summary: you and steve harrington are an unlikely couple, but are perfectly happy. the only problem? somehow the news skipped your little brother, who manages to go through the whole summer without realising you're together until one fateful day. follows season 3 and centres on the starcourt battle warnings: swearing, kissing, making out in public, series typical violence and monsters, sex but not in super graphic detail, getting walked in on me: i LOVE this piece but it was simply too long to post as one part so is broken up into 2!! pt 1

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You didn’t let the question of whether you’d told Dustin about you and Steve burden your summer. To be honest, it was the best June of your life. Almost every day spent with Steve and his new friend Robin in or out of Scoops, or Dustin’s friends.

Somewhere along the last few months of you coming out of your shell, they’d started to see you as some kind of maternal figure, someone who’d give advice without judgement. That was how you ended up sitting in a booth at Scoops Ahoy across from Lucas, who had his head in his hands.

“How do I fix it?” He groaned, taking a huge bite out of his ice cream. He and Max were in another fight and had broken up for the third time this summer.

“Look, it sounds like what you said was kinda… misogynistic,” You said carefully, trying not to offend him. When it didn’t work, you scrambled to explain yourself, “I’m not saying you’re like a huge woman-hater or anything, but think of it from Max’s perspective. It sounds like you don’t trust her as much as your male friends, and she’s your girlfriend. You’re supposed to trust each other the most. Honestly, just genuinely apologise to her and show her that you trust her as much as any of the party.” Lucas looked at you for a moment, then nodded like he should have thought of that first.

“How do you know all this stuff when you’ve never even had a fight with your only boyfriend?”

“I read a lot of romance novels.” You beamed, eyes flitting across the store to where Steve was scooping cones for a group of twelve-year-olds. He was in that godawful outfit that you adored, and his hat was slipping lopsided over his hair.

He looked up by chance, eyes finding you over the mob of pre-teens. You exchanged small smiles, sweetness pooling in Steve’s eyes. Robin pretended to gag when she saw it, flicking Steve upside the head as she told him to go on break.

His breaks were maybe your favourite part of the day. Leading you through the door to the side of the ice cream cabinet, he’d hoist you up onto the filing cabinet against the wall, attacking your lips like he hadn’t seen you in days.

You always made a point of tossing that ridiculous hat aside, threading your fingers through his thick locks, tugging until he made musical little groans you could live off of.

“Missed you so much, my girl,” Steve moaned quietly against your lips, hands wandering to encourage your legs to wrap around his middle.

“Stevie,” You giggled each time, letting him press kisses down the column of your throat, “I’ve been here all morning.” Or, on the odd occasion when you couldn’t exist all day in the mall: “I saw you yesterday!”

“Not the same,” Steve grumbled, cupping your breast through your bra and blouse, “Can’t have you all to myself.”

Every day was the same, in the best way. Steve wanted nothing but you, all the time, in every way, and he wasn’t shy to show you.

“Pick me up from my shift tonight, then, and we can go for a drive,” You winked, meaning Steve would park on a dark, quiet street and you’d chat… amongst other things.

“Or,” Steve countered, drawing back so you were face to face, “You could stay over tonight.”

“Steve,” You raised one eyebrow, unimpressed. “I stayed over last night. In fact, I lied that I was sleeping over at Robin’s last night. I don’t have many other friends, there’s a finite number of times I can use that excuse.”

“Yeah, but don’t I make it worth your while?” He murmured with an obnoxious grin, hands creeping up under your skirt — shorter now you weren’t at school. You swatted his hand like a cat, laughing when Steve pouted about it, rubbing his hand dramatically.

“We’re at your work, Steve. What if the owner came by?”

“The owner never comes by.” You shot him a look.

“It’s almost four, anyway. I should get going for my shift. Are you gonna pick me up, handsome?” You waggled your eyebrows while you hopped off the filing cabinet, skipping toward the back door into the staff hallways.

Steve sighed dramatically, pretending to think it over.

“You get off at eleven, right?”

“Closer to eleven thirty; they’ll make me mop.” You grinned, popping up onto your tiptoes to give him a sweet kiss. He still tasted like strawberry ice cream and something uniquely him, and Steve took what he could get, chasing your lips even as you ducked from his grasp.

June passed in a blur of pleasure; swimming in Steve’s pool, lying to your mom about where you were so you could sleep over while his parents were gone, teaming up with Robin to tease Steve at Scoops. You’d never had so much fun in your life; it was almost making you regret your life spent as a homebody.

The buzz about you and Steve had mostly died down, though you still got some looks — mostly from girls Steve had hooked up with in his King Steve era. Either way, you learned to shrug them off. If that was the price of being with Steve, then you were more than willing to pay it. Even Dustin’s friends didn’t care anymore, the weirdness of their friend (babysitter? You were confused) and their other friend’s sister getting together wearing off quickly.

Before you knew it, you and the party were welcoming back Dustin from nerd camp. You ruffled his hair and left him to catch up with friends, biking up to Starcourt to see Steve.

You’d been distracting Steve all shift, sitting right on the inside of the sliding windows so you couldn’t be easily seen by the general public, but Steve could lean back and talk to you between customers.

True to your routine, Steve spent his entire break on you, hands wandering across every sliver of exposed skin whilst you tried to contain your little gasps and whines, well aware Robin and the general public were right outside. You should really buy her a gift or something for putting up with you all summer.

“Okay, captain, your break’s just about up.” You pushed Steve away, watching with delight as he groaned, hands not moving from your body.

“Just a few more minutes,” He pleaded, but you shook your head, taking a step back so you couldn’t fall into his trap.

“I am not having Robin walk in on us again! I want her to be my friend, okay?” Steve held his hands up in surrender, smiling when you did.

“I’ll see you later?” Steve asked, innocent hope etched on his face. You nodded silently, blowing him a kiss as you closed the staff door softly behind you.

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin was on the customer side of the shop, asking for the very man you’d just been kissing. You passed like sliding doors, just missing each other as you revolved around Steve Harrington. They didn’t mention you in their reunion — why would they? Hey Dustin, welcome home, I’m obsessed with my girlfriend, your sister. Really interesting stuff. So Dustin went another day without finding out about you two, completely by accident.

Fate works in funny ways. You were working a lunch shift when Dustin burst into Scoops Ahoy, rambling about Russian codes and underground bases. If you had been there, you probably would have told Dustin to mind his own business and saved everybody some of the pain of their summer, though perhaps not in the long run. The fact of the matter was, you weren’t there.

“Have you told your sister?” Was the first thing Steve asked, confused when Dustin screwed up his face.

“No. Why the hell would I tell her?” Robin looked at Steve, who was still staring at Dustin.

“Because she’s smart as hell,” He said it like it was obvious, “She’s the reason I passed English.”

“Yeah, English. Not Russian.” They bickered in their signature way until Robin was brought to her wits end, waving them both back to earth.

“Okay, whatever. As much as we do or don’t wish she was here, she’s being responsible and working a real job. I want to translate it.” Both boys turned to face her in disbelief.

“What?”

So the mission was planned in secret. You’d see Dustin at home and Steve through the day, both of them shifty and more nervous than usual. Dustin you didn’t think much of, he and the party were always planning something, even when it wasn’t supernatural. You were sure he’d be fine. Steve, though, was not naturally a nervous person.

You waited to talk to him about it until you were lying in his bed, draped over him even in the summer evening heat.

“Is everything okay?” You said lightly, not wanting to make it a bigger deal than it possibly was.

“Yeah, ‘course. What makes you say that?” He replied too quickly, like he knew he was acting weird.

“You’re just… jittery. You’re not gonna break up with me, are you?” You couldn’t help the nerves seeping into your words, the mere idea of it terrifying you.

“No!” Steve flipped to face you fully, eyes searching yours. “God, no. It’s just… How much has Dustin told you about the last few years?” You shrugged, bits and pieces. You told him as much, and Steve opened his mouth, trying to find the right words.

An hour later, you knew pretty much everything. About scientists, and the Upside Down, and the guns, and the fights Steve had lost and how amazing Dustin’s brain was. And what happened to Mews — you couldn’t say you were quite pleased with that. You were glad Steve told you, though. The last few years you’d really felt like you were missing something, you just weren’t sure what. Especially when all the party’s families caught up for summer barbecues or Christmas get togethers; you knew you were the outlier but you figured it was because you weren’t one of the party, and Nancy and Johnathan had their weird thing going on. Now you knew it was because you were the only one not battling monsters on the side.

You’d forgotten why you even asked, but you were glad Steve had told you. It made you feel trusted, included. When you drifted off into a sweaty summer dream, head resting on Steve’s bare chest, he finally exhaled.

He wanted to tell you about the Russians, about the code, about everything. But he couldn’t, how could he? Steve was frighteningly close to admitting to himself that he was falling deeply in love with you — if the ache in his chest when he looked at you was anything to go by — how could he risk your life? Especially when everyone he loved had barely survived the first few times. So he kept it a secret until he had no choice.

“You’re doing what?” You yelled a week later, mug shattering into a thousand pieces on Steve’s kitchen floor. Steve winced, not mad at all about the dropped cup, but worried you were going to step on a shard in your anger. Silently, he approached around the kitchen island, using a paper towel as a make-shift dust pan to gather the pieces away from your feet. You reluctantly stood still, letting him take care of you even as you had half a mind to strangle him.

“We don’t really have a choice,” He said finally, and you jumped back into your furious pacing.

“Who’s we?”

“Robin, Dustin… Erica.” You experienced maybe a hundred emotions in the course of three seconds, his answer so completely unacceptable.

“My little brother? You’re taking my little brother and not me? And Erica, Lucas’ little sister? What the fuck are you doing with a kid?”

Steve was panicking. He didn’t like arguing in general, much less with you. Especially when he knew you were right. Obviously you were right! He didn’t want to go on this damn mission, but who else was going to save the world? He took a deep breath, trying to formulate his words to best calm you down.

“It’s not my plan. Dustin was the one who heard the code on his nerd radio, and Robin translated it. We need Erica to fit through the vent and let us all in.”

“Okay, why can’t I come too? I’m smart, I could be helpful!” You begged, already feeling that sick, tight feeling in your chest. Steve shook his head without even considering it.

“It’s too dangerous, especially the more people you add. You have to stay here, stay safe,” He emphasised the last word.

“Then why are you going!” Tears were welling in your eyes, burning hot and blurring the man before you. “Why can’t you stay safe? Why can’t Dustin be safe? Why does it have to be you guys?” The first fat tear rolled down your cheek, and Steve closed the gap between you in moments, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle.

“Remember what I told you the other day?” He whispered, rubbing small circles into the skin of your back, “There is no one else. We’re the only ones who know; who care.”

“But can’t I do anything? Even if I can’t come with you, can’t I help from the surface?”

Steve shook his head, leading you gently to his bedroom.

“There’s nothing you can do, it’s okay. Just go to work, and we should be back within a few hours. Before you wake up the next morning, definitely.”

You and Steve dressed for bed in silence. What could you say? Your boyfriend was effectively sending himself off to die, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Even worse, you had to go to work.

“It’s going to be okay,” Steve said softly, cupping your cheek with his hand, “We’re all going to be okay.” You nodded weakly because you couldn’t do anything else, and you let Steve kiss you. Gently at first, then feverish, hands mapping the expanse of your body as he tried to memorise your features.

Your tongues twisted together as Steve tilted your head back against one of his navy blue pillows, deepening the kiss to where it felt more like devouring than making out, like if he just got close enough, nothing bad could happen.

“Please,” Steve said, hands trailing down to your pyjama shorts, “Please let me feel you.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, nor the first time you’d agreed, but there was something about this time, his defeated tone, that made it feel different.

When Steve sank into you, breathy moans escaped both your mouths, the only sound in his otherwise still house.

You’d occasionally heard people you were friendly with discussing the age-old conundrum: was it fucking or making love? In your heart, you knew that this was making love; every stroke reverent as Steve cupped your face, intense eye contact never breaking as you breathed gasps and moans into each other's mouths. This wasn’t to get yourselves off; neither of you were chasing intense highs or using each other for your own pleasure. Steve was inside you because it was the most intimate, the most private declaration of your feelings you could both manage.

It was too early to say ‘I love you’, but you could feel it from Steve when he sank from tip to base inside of you, the full feeling unparalleled by anything else on earth. When he slumped on top of you, completely spent, you loved the way his weight squished you, squeezing out your anxieties.

It was only when Steve had to take care of the condom, and you had to get up and pee, that the heavy sense of dread returned, pooling in your stomach where pleasure had earlier distracted it. You wished you could be satisfied, believe Steve when he calmed you down, but you’d seen him, unbeknownst to him.

Just once, in that stretch before winter break. He’d taken a few days off unexpectedly, the first of which you had a dentist appointment around lunchtime, and had neglected to return to school for your final period, intending to go browse the little bookshop on main street. You’d only stopped into the grocery store to get some snacks, dreaming of the cookies & cream ice cream that had recently been brought into Hawkins. There, digging through the freezer aisle, was Steve Harrington. You hadn’t really noticed at first, why would you care? But then he turned around to head to the register, and an involuntary noise left your lips. He looked awful. Eye swollen and bruised, jaw not much better. He’d been beaten to a pulp by someone, or judging by the fact that he was now friends with Dustin, something. For a single moment, you locked eyes, and you could tell something fundamental had changed. Something bad had happened.

So you let Steve cuddle into you, pretending you believed his assurances. You didn’t want him to stay up all night comforting you, though you knew he would if you asked. Sweat coating both your bodies, you lay on his mattress, drifting through fitful dozes, trying to push the bloodied and battered image of your boyfriend from your mind.

The next morning, you held Steve extra tight, memorising the feeling of his arms around you, just in case. When your kiss lingered a few seconds too long, Steve pulled away first — the only time he’d ever done it.

“Hey,” He said lightly, cradling your face until you made eye contact, “I’m going to be fine. You have to trust me, okay?” You nodded, almost imperceptibly, and Steve led you to his car.

You arrived home early, you didn’t even think Dustin was awake yet. The theory was proved correct an hour later when he emerged from his bedroom with a shock of bed hair, surprise clear on his face when he saw you lounging on the sofa, paging through a novel.

“Why are you awake?” He asked, hands flying to his hair. If you got a photo of him looking like that, the party would know in minutes.

“God forbid a girl doesn’t want to sleep through her whole summer break. Besides, I haven’t been able to get George Knightley out of my head,” You joked, flashing the book cover at him. He didn’t get it. “Also, I want to talk to you.”

You followed him to the kitchen, leaning against a cabinet with your mug as Dustin poured himself a bowl of cereal.

“Steve told me what you’re doing.” Dustin looked up in alarm, then utter panic, then confusion.

“When did you see Steve? Weren’t you working last night?”

“Um, saw him after.” Dustin narrowed his eyes but seemed to accept the answer. “Anyway. I’m not gonna get you in trouble with Mom or tell you not to go through with it, but I need you to tell me you’re all gonna be careful. Don’t get carried away, don’t do dumb shit, just get in and get out.”

“Okay.” Dustin nodded easily, shoulders back where they should be when he realised you weren’t snitching.”

“And you need to let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. I’m not happy I’m sitting on the sidelines, and I’ll do anything to make sure you all get back safely.” Dustin looked at you for a long moment, eating his cereal deep in thought. Finally, he gave you an in.

“You know that old radio I used to have? The small one?” You nodded quickly — how could you forget? It went everywhere with Dustin until he got a new one last Christmas. “It should already be tuned to the right station. Can you just… keep it on? Look out for us?” You were nodding before he’d even stopped talking, relieved to finally feel useful.

“I’ll keep it on all day.”

You stayed true to your promise, the walkie going everywhere with you. It felt burning hot in your bag, like just needing to have it was a bad omen. You didn’t get any communication.

You’d worked at Enzo’s since you were old enough to work at fifteen, so you definitely had your favourite chef. He was old and sarcastic, and definitely had a soft spot for you after two years of working together, especially since you were the youngest. You took your chances with him, sidling up at the start of both of your shifts.

“Can I ask a favour?” You asked, tying your apron tightly around your waist.

“Depends. What is it?” He asked, already not liking where you were headed.

“Can I put this radio here?” You gestured to a small ledge where there was never any food prep. “You don’t need to do anything, just let me know if anyone says anything on it.” You put on puppy dog eyes for best effect, and he sighed reluctantly.

“Whatever. But don’t involve me in whatever teen drama is going on.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it! You’re the best, Robbie.”

The entire shift you were working on autopilot, thoughts completely devoted to whatever could possibly be happening at Starcourt. You didn’t receive any communication all night, not even when you biked home from Enzo’s and crawled into bed, covers drawn all the way up despite the summer heat.

You tried to believe that it was a good thing. No one was contacting you because they didn’t need to; everything was going according to plan. You should’ve known better. Neither Dustin nor Steve were very good at sticking to plans.

Unbeknownst to you, whilst you were having dreams of a blissful summer, your boyfriend was being tortured by Russians and your brother was fighting with Erica Sinclair in vents at least fifty feet below ground.

“Fuck,” Dustin groaned after hitting another dead end, running a hand through his curls, “My sister is gonna kill me if I die.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about her, nerd,” Erica rolled her eyes, busying herself with trying to find the right turn to take. “She’ll have Steve’s head if either one of us comes back with so much as a scratch.”

Dustin nodded for a moment, then stopped.

“Wait, what? Why Steve?” Erica just stared at him, signature look plain on her face — you cannot be serious. She didn’t even dignify him with a response, retreating back the way they came to find the way up to the surface. Dustin hesitated, still confused. Then, slowly, he came to a realisation. Oh, he thought, obviously. Steve’s the oldest, of course he’d be held responsible.

“Robbie,” You sang as you entered the kitchen, stealing a few fries before he served them on a plate.

“What do you want?” He huffed, plating up the rest of the meal.

“Can you keep an ear out for the walkie again?”

“Only if you tell me why it’s so important.” You panicked, eyes widening as you tried to come up with a lie — you had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn’t believe that there were Russians under Starcourt even if you told him the truth.

“Um… It’s my brother! He’s camping. He said he’d be back yesterday, so I’m just listening out for if he needs… a ride, or something.” Robbie squinted at you, trying to read the truth from your expression.

“Your brother’s missing? You should call the cops, not wait for a walkie.”

“No!” You said, too quickly. Calling the cops would make everything infinitely worse. “We know where he is, and I’m not worried that he’s staying out for another day. Y’know, thirteen-year-old boys. But he’s friends with Will Byers — that kid who went missing — and he’s still a bit frail, so I’m just thinking he maybe got scared or hurt and couldn’t bike back.” You held your breath, silently begging for him to accept the story. Finally, after ten of the longest seconds of your life, he nodded, snatching the walkie from your hands.

The shift dragged by, and you hoped the customers couldn’t tell how anxious you were getting. If the gang didn’t return by morning, you’d be calling the cops, no matter what.

When you ducked back into the kitchen to collect a few more plates, Robbie stopped you.

“Heard something on the radio,” He said, and the plates nearly slipped from your grasp. “Something about a code red. That mean anything?” Your hands started shaking of their own accord as you nodded, putting the ticket back with the meals.

“Means they’re in trouble. Um, just tell Lisa I’m throwing up and can’t be around food right now. Brooke can cover my tables. I owe you one!” You were already practically out the door, on your bike before you could even fully process what was happening.

The walkie sounded again in the front basket of your bike, crackly and distant.

“Code red! I repeat, code red!” It sounded like Dustin was yelling, and maybe whacking his radio.

“I’m here, Dustin.” You were shouting too, not in control enough to measure your volume. Another voice called your name through the static and you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Mike Wheeler?”

“What the hell are you doing on this channel?” He asked, and you could practically see his face screwing up in the way it did when he was mad — you and Nancy used to love spurring him on when you were all younger.

“Looking out for my brother, idiot, are you with him?”

“No, I’m at the grocery store.”

You almost swerved into an oncoming car, the admission confusing you to the very centre of your core.

“Why the fuck are you at the grocery store when my brother is under the mall fighting Russians?” You heard Mike splutter, gearing up to fight back before he processed what you said.

“They’re doing what?”

“Guys!” Dustin’s voice called, small on the other end of the line, “Code red means no bickering!” Then a few gargled words which didn’t quite make sense.

Mike did the interrogating for you while you focused on getting across town to Starcourt. It was stupid busy with everyone preparing for Fourth, and you’d been almost hit at least three times. Between the two of you, you thought he might have said the cinema? But his useless radio was dying and everything sounded warped. You supposed you’d just have to figure it out when you got there.

You didn’t know what to expect when you finally did get to the mall, but you didn’t expect it to be empty. You looked down the street, the fading image of the final public bus of the night propelling into the darkness and toward the town fair. You didn’t know much about fighting Russians, but you thought a completely empty mall was probably a sign of imminent danger.

Still, your little brother was in there. And your boyfriend. And a twelve-year-old fucking girl. So you slipped through the front doors, trying not to let your Converses squeak against the tile floors. You heard the footsteps before you saw them, heavy and echoing through the impossibly tall ceilings.

For a moment, the relief of believing it was your loved ones outweighed any critical thinking, and you moved toward the sound, hurrying through the food court toward the voices. Around a corner were two men, dressed all in black and armed with the biggest guns you’d ever seen. Your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ and you backed up the way you came.

Fuck. The mall was crawling with similar men, and you knew you only had a few seconds before one of them turned around and saw you. Pressing yourself behind a 6ft ‘sale!’ sign, you tried to keep your breathing silent. You didn’t know where Dustin or Steve were, but you’d unwillingly walked into the slightly more pressing situation of keeping yourself alive.

It felt like an hour that you were standing there hoping not to get noticed, though it could have been anywhere between ten seconds and three minutes. Finally, you heard one of the Russian men murmur something you didn’t understand, but you knew what the converging footsteps meant: they’d found someone. Your stomach dropped into your toes, sick anxiety flooding through your veins like a brain freeze.

You weren’t religious, but in the twenty seconds that the soldiers crowded around wherever they thought the gang was hiding, you flew through as many prayers as you could remember, in the vain hope that it would help them.

Then the display car started moving, wiggling in its spot as the lights went crazy. Holy shit you thought, I’m the second coming of Christ. For a second, you really believed it. The car then spun out of control, killing each of the Russians in equally gruesome ways. You didn’t think that was very Christ-like. Sure enough, your gaze panned up to the second level of the mall, eyes widening when the rest of the party stood, watching in silence as an unfamiliar girl controlled the car from afar. Eleven, you remembered from Steve’s epic tale the week before.

You watched them approach, the rest of your friends climbing out from under a food service counter. It was a few moments longer before you realised you should also make yourself known.

“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheels!” Dustin laughed, running to hug Mike and the girl. Lucas and Erica reunited in their own way, and the larger group talked over each other as was usual. When you cleared your throat, stepping out of the shadow you were hiding in, eleven heads swung to look at you.

You were in the air before you knew what was happening, air draining from your lungs.

“Put her down!” Steve panicked at the same time Dustin screamed, “That’s my sister!” You were dropped unceremoniously, gasping for oxygen on the floor.

“Sorry,” The girl — Eleven — said softly, gripping Mike’s hand tightly.

“No worries,” You coughed out, pushing yourself up onto unstable legs, “Neat trick.” She smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked as Dustin dragged you into the circle, a small oomph escaping as you hugged your brother tight.

“Same as them, I assume,” You gestured over to the saviour group, “Got Dustin’s code red. Came to help.”

The group bickered as you held Dustin’s face in your hands, inspecting him for cuts or scrapes. Finding none, you nodded shakily, somewhat satisfied.

“Thanks for coming,” He said reluctantly, and you just squeezed him again.

“Looks like you didn’t need my help.” You giggled pathetically, ruffling his hair even though you knew he hated it. You shared one more moment of sibling telepathy, a hundred I’m glad you cames and I’m glad you’re alives slipping between you.

The moment broke when Dustin picked up on something from the larger conversation, butting in to argue over something or other — the usual. You took the opportunity to approach Steve, wrapping your arms around him until you thought you might fuse into one. He groaned, and you remembered just how beaten up he was.

“My boy,” You crooned quietly, brushing some hair out of his face, dried blood going with it. You both winced. “What happened to you?”

“Drugged and questioned by Russians. Y’know, the usual,” He joked, but you weren’t in the mood.

“C’mon, let’s hurry up and get home so I can clean you up.” You leant up to kiss him gently, but were interrupted by Eleven collapsing, and the chaos that ensued afterwards.

You stayed on the outskirts, confused and underprepared for anything that was going on. You thought Dustin’s call would be for, like, a getaway ride. Not a girl with superpowers and a worm in her leg. If you’d known, you maybe would have brought a gun or something, not your work apron and whatever was in the pockets of your black trousers (gum and a blue pen).

One hand stayed tightly laced with Steve’s as the other covered your eyes, tears welling beneath where you shielded them. Steve was right; this was too much, you couldn’t handle it. Eleven’s screaming was visceral, shaking you to your core as it rattled around your ribcage. She was too young to sound like that; all of you were too young for this.

You only opened your eyes when it fell silent, the mystery of it too much to resist. Standing in front of you was Joyce Byers, Chief Hopper and a strange, bedraggled man you were sure you’d never seen in your life.

“What the fuck is happening right now?” You whispered up to your boyfriend.

“I have no idea,” He replied, helping as the gang lifted Eleven over to a bench.

“We’ll get her a cold drink!” You squeaked to the group, desperate to not be useless, dragging Steve along with you. You weren’t going anywhere alone right now.

Behind the counter of a fast food spot, Steve continued explaining, filling in gaps he didn’t think were relevant when he told you the stories the first time.

“And Mrs Byers and the Chief have a weird will-they-won’t-they thing going on—”

“Shut up, dingus,” Robin hissed as you got closer, and Steve dutifully shut his mouth, leaving you to do the intimidating approach to hand El her soda. You backed away just as quickly to the older teens, not wanting to make any splashes.

It took at least ten minutes for both stories to be fully explained; the Russians and the rat-monster-thing that El had apparently fought. Not to mention, you still had no idea what the adults had been doing throughout all of this, but you got the sense it wasn’t your place to ask.

You watched in astonishment as Dustin explained the Russian systems with the precision of a soldier, seemingly memorising the whole layout from the vents. You had no idea he could do that. You looked at Steve for confirmation, but he didn’t seem to be perturbed at all, clearly this wasn’t as out of the ordinary as you thought.

Nancy was playing with a gun when you sat down next to her, exchanging awkward smiles.

“Did Steve bring you into this?” She asked kindly, “He’s surprisingly good with the kids, but I’m sure he would have appreciated having someone to help wrangle Dustin.”

“No, actually, he wanted me as far away as possible from danger, but Dustin asked me to listen out on the walkie, and I got his code red. Haven’t been much help, but at least I feel like I haven’t just totally sat by while he was in danger.” Nancy nodded like she knew exactly how you felt, gripping your hand quickly.

All those family gatherings feeling like the odd one out, and it turned out you and Nancy had more in common than either of you realised.

Then, before you knew what was happening, you were being dragged across the food court by one hand, waving pathetically to Nancy.

Steve crowed as he saw the car he was entrusted with, a gorgeous convertible that couldn’t have been the chief’s.

“Screw Todd, Steve’s her daddy now,” He laughed, making his way to the driver’s seat.

“Are you sure you should be driving in this state? I could do it,” You asked nervously, the bulging black eye not even scratching the surface of what was currently wrong with Steve.

“You don’t even have your licence,” He pointed out, hopping into the plush leather seat. You huffed in response as Robin looked between you, choosing the backseat for her own peace of mind. She did not have the patience to get in the middle of whatever lover’s quarrel might have broken out. Dustin gave her a weird look, but didn’t question it.

You’d been driving for ages to get to whatever bloody hill Dustin had built his radio on, you and Steve bickering the whole way. It was unusual for you, but you supposed the adrenaline and high stakes had to be released in some way. It only furthered when Suzie got brought up.

You and Steve had had multiple conversations since he’d come back over whether Dustin’s girlfriend was real or not, never truly deciding. As his sister, though, it was your duty to be supportive no matter what. Steve didn’t share the same responsibility, stumbling when Erica questioned him over his belief.

“Steve!” You and Dustin scolded at the same time, with an added whack to his bicep for good measure from you. Dustin looked between you at the contact but didn’t say anything.

His same look was given when Steve swerved off the road, your hand clutching Steve’s for stability as the car shuddered and bounced off road. He had bigger things to focus on at the moment, though, like getting up to that goddamn radio.

There was still a significant hill to climb up to the radio, and your Cons were not handling it overly well. Sliding and sinking into the earth, you were really not having a good go of it.

The rest of the gang weren’t necessarily any better than you, all of you having to resort to arms and legs as the exhaustion or pain of the last day and a half set in.

“C’mon, baby, almost there.” Steve slapped your ass lightly, chuckling when you gasped, whipping around to tell him off light-heartedly. You didn’t get to.

“Ew!” Dustin interrutped, “Ew, ew, ew. Steve, don’t treat my sister like that. Jesus, those drugs have really brought you back to King Steve, haven’t they?” You exchanged a confused look with Steve. Maybe it wasn’t necessarily appropriate for the current situation, but it wasn’t like Steve was non-consensually harassing you.

“Um, sorry bud. But it’s—”

“What channel do we need to be on?” Erica asked, and any other conversation died immediately. You crowded around the gadget, waiting in tense silence for whatever was going to come from it.

While Dustin was busy giving directions to Murray, you were focused on something else.

“Steve?” You said, voice wavering, “Robin?” The mall was going crazy, flickering violently. You knew enough that it was a clear bad sign.

Steve and Robin were off running back to the car, you not far behind.

“No,” Steve yelled, narrowly dodging a rock sticking out of the hill. “It’s too dangerous, you’re not going!” He tried to start the engine before you reached the car — no luck.

“Fuck you, Steve,” You huffed, jumping into the passenger seat again. “If you’re going, I’m going. I’m not letting you die without me.”

Steve moved to argue, but Robin intercepted, forcibly moving his head so he was looking where he was driving.

“If you guys are gonna break up over this, can you at least wait until we know if we’re gonna live past the next two hours? Because I really think we have bigger things to focus on right now.”

“Sorry, Rob,” You both murmured, the car going silent as you pondered what was ahead.

“Oh my God, who is that?” You lifted from your seat to get a better view of the car speeding toward what you recognised as Nancy, holding a pistol out in front of her.

“Hold on.” Steve white-knuckled the steering wheel, shifting gears.

“What?” You and Robin squealed, finding handles to grip onto till the blood drained from your hands. Steve didn’t repeat himself, flooring the accelerator. A silent scream escaped your lips as you collided head-on with the black car.

Thankfully, the hood of the convertible was long enough that the damage didn’t reach you; you might’ve just had a mild case of whiplash. Rubbing your neck slowly, you turned to face Robin, checking she was still okay as well. She was staring up at the mall, and you dreaded to follow her gaze.

“Get in!” Nancy yelled from her own car, and you let Steve give you a bump up into the trunk, tugging him in after you. You let him hold you, sitting across from Robin, the three of you probably looking equally shell-shocked.

While you three had been driving back toward the mall, Dustin and Erica had been shunned to silence by Murray, and so had time to talk.

“Do you think it’s weird that my sister was in the passenger seat and not Robin?” Dustin asked, periodically checking that all the dials and switches were in order. Just in case.

“Why would it be weird?” She replied in a deadpan, eyes anxiously flitting over to the flickering lights of the mall.

“Oh my god,” He groaned, hands running down his face, “She has a crush on him. Or wait, does he like her? Jesus, that would be so much worse. Steve Harrington pining after my sister.” Erica just let him babble. As a frequenter of Scoops Ahoy, anyone with eyes could see that you and Steve were together. Even if nobody had told Dustin, she thought that if he had actually looked at the way you two interacted, he’d see it clear as day. So she didn’t say anything, letting him work himself into a ridiculous spiral.

Back in the car, there was a flurry of chaos so bad you could hardly think. The radio was blasting, the mingling voices of Erica, Dustin, Hopper and Murray blending together as Nancy and Johnathan argued over directions, and the kids argued over everything else.

Steve looked down at you and must have seen your dismay, lacing your fingers together and kissing your hand gently, making a face in response to Robin’s faux-disgusted reaction. The ride continued that was until the radio crackled, and a new voice joined the mix. Everyone fell silent to listen in.

“Suzie-poo?” You whispered, and the question echoed around the car.

And then he was singing. Dustin was singing into the radio, as you were getting chased by a ginormous rat-person-monster and the adults were in a Russian lair.

You looked at Robin first, who looked as bewildered as you felt. Steve’s face was screwed up in a visual representation of what the fuck, and the others were almost identical.

The truck was dead silent for a long minute — except for, of course, the giant monster barrelling behind you — but you were the one to break it with a high-pitched, nervous giggle. Robin caught it first, a snort leaving her without permission, then Steve was next, pulling you close as he laughed into your shoulder.

Dazed, hysterical laughter filled the car as the tension dissolved, the bizarreness of the situation completely outweighing anything else for a reason. You almost felt happy, despite everything else going on, wondering if this was what it felt like to have a friend group.

The brief interlude of joy only faded when Steve looked out the back window, mouth snapping shut with a start.

“It’s turning around!” He yelled to the driver’s seat, grabbing onto you as he anticipated another violent swerve back toward the creature. You didn’t understand for a while why on earth you’d be chasing it, until Steve mumbled in your ear, “Mike and Max are still there with El.” Suddenly, the colour drained from your face, panic making its way back inside your being.

“So what’s the plan?” You asked when you knew you were a few minutes away. Will and Lucas looked at each other, like they were aware of how ridiculous the plan was.

“We’ve got a shit-ton of fireworks. Blow him up.”

“Gotcha.” You nodded like it made sense before turning to Steve and Robin, mouthing ‘what?’. They both shrugged, which didn’t make you feel any better. In fact, with every inch closer to the mall you got, the surer you felt that you were going to die.

Ten minutes later, you’d dispersed the fireworks between you all and were trudging them up to the upper balcony of the food court, trying simultaneously to be quick and silent.

When you were all ready, Lucas gave the signal and it was chaos, beautiful and scary and reckless as you hauled fireworks into the creature's shifting form, lighting them with reckless abandon, even for the Fourth.

For a while, it was almost fun. Yes, you were terrified for your life and for all of those around you. But you were part of a team. You felt like you had friends, real friends who looked out for each other and protected each other. You spared a single second to look over at Steve, lost momentarily in the way his features set when he was determined, brow solid and unwavering as he exerted what you were sure was his last remaining energy into killing this fucking monster.

Any semblance of fun quickly died when you were scraping the cardboard box to find the final few fireworks. The explosives had worked in distracting and irritating the monster, but it was still moving at most of its capacity, and when you were out of defences, you had a dreadful suspicion that it wouldn’t be merciful.

In a split decision, you let Robin hold down the fort.

“Steve!” You yelled.

The fireworks were dwindling, and the rat-person-monster didn’t seem to be getting any weaker, and you couldn’t muster up very much more optimism. Might as well.

“Steve?” You grabbed his hand through shaky breaths, the chaos of the confrontation fading to a ringing as you looked at him. Bloody, bruised, and definitely not all there, but he was alive, and he was yours, and that was all you could ask for in the moment. You must have been staring for too long because Steve squeezed your hand tightly.

“What?”

“I love you. I know it’s too early to say it, but I do, I love you so much it hurts, and I don’t want to die having never said it.” Steve needed little encouragement, kissing you fiercely, wrapping you in his arms. You matched his fervour, tongues briefly intertwining as you tasted the blood and Coca Cola still in his mouth. It wasn’t long before you pulled away, knowing the ridiculousness given the situation.

“I love you too,” Steve breathed into you, gripping your face like you might fade out from under him.

“Let’s kill this fucking monster.”

It all happened in a flash of light and ringing ears; Billy being killed, the monster falling limp, everything going completely, terrifyingly silent.

Then the soldiers came. Americans, this time, ushering you out of the mall with a disconcerting mix of rough commands and gentler touches. Steve didn’t let go of you the entire time, not even when the EMTs tried to check him out. You had to force him to sit in the makeshift chair, letting him grip your hand with bruising force as the paramedics treated his wounds and checked him for a concussion.

When they were done with both of you, covered in bandages and ice packs, you stood. Steve could barely lift himself off the back of the ambulance and so you slotted yourself between his legs, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Steve melted into your touch, burrowing into your shirt, listening to your pulse through the thin cotton. All you did for a long time was hold him, softly stroking his hair as the world moved on around you. When you looked up, it was at Robin, sitting alone. Silently, you extended an arm for her too, smiling softly when she all but ran to you, wildly out of character. You brought her in, rubbing circles into her back until her breathing evened out, too.

It was a long time before you realised anything was wrong.

“Shit,” You said, and both their heads snapped up like it was the creature again. “I forgot about Dustin.”

With a bit of effort, you managed to untangle yourself, searching through safety blankets and medical equipment for your radio, whacking it hard until it crackled to life again.

“Dustin?” You bit your lip anxiously, “Do you copy?”

The relief at hearing his voice was instantaneous, like drinking cold water on a hot day, feeling it swirl around inside of you. You didn’t even mind that he was cussing you out for leaving him and Erica clueless, just glad to be hearing his voice. Tears sprang to your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall, smiling weakly at Steve as he caressed your hip for comfort.

Nancy approached, whispering quickly in your ear as Dustin continued to tell you off.

“Listen, Dusty, tell me in person. Mrs Byers has invited us all to stay the night at hers. So no one is alone. Can you get there, or do you need me to figure out a ride?”

In thirty minutes, the whole gang was situated in the Byers’ house, spread across the living room, Johnathan, and Will’s rooms. Mrs Byers, of course, retreated to her own bedroom, and your heart ached at the empty loss in her eyes.

You didn’t think Steve had stopped touching you since you exited the mall, except when Dustin walked in. Everyone had moved to greet him, but you were there first, basically crushing him in your arms. For once, he returned it, not afraid to be vulnerable after everything that had transpired.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” You mumbled into his hair, pinching his cheek like your mom always did. He rolled his eyes but grinned anyway, not the least bit concerned that his friends were surrounding you both.

“What about you? You just fought a monster!” You laughed loudly, the reality of it setting in.

“Majorly badass,” Nancy chimed in with a smile, a thousand messages communicated when you locked eyes. Maybe she was really someone you could be friends with. You hoped so.

You finally let the others have their turn with Erica and Dustin, settling back onto an air mattress, letting Steve’s hand slide around your waist, holding you like he was scared you’d leave.

The air was light, but it was hard work to keep it that way. Max had disappeared into Will’s bedroom, and Mike and El were having a moment in the kitchen, so the rest of you forced smiles and argued over which tape to watch of the few that the Byers had stocked. You finally settled on Grease, something light and stupid enough that there was no chance of tears.

At some point, Steve and Johnathan ordered pizzas from the shitty 24-hour place in town, remembering that none of you had eaten dinner or anything else for hours. You helped out, spending the hard-earned tips still in your apron to feed the little family that had assembled around a shitty romcom.

Maybe nothing leading up to it was, but for a moment, everything felt just a little bit perfect.

You finally drifted off to sleep, still earlier than most, cuddled into Steve’s side with your head lolling against his shoulder. He held you close, comforted by your slow breaths.

Dustin didn’t mention anything about your display of affection. In his head, it made perfect sense. Steve was really your only friend, and you’d just been through an extremely traumatic event. It made sense to him that you’d cling to him to ground you. So, even though it was completely weird for him to watch you cuddle with one of his best friends, he let it slide, hoping it would reduce the trauma you’d no doubt face when you processed it all.

Things were different after The Battle, as you’d tastefully chosen to name it. For the first time in your life, you were busy. You still worked a few nights a week, but on the ones you didn’t, you had plans, which was certainly new for you.

To be fair, they were mostly with Steve, of course, you were practically fused at the hip after you’d said ‘I love you’ for the first time. Still, it wasn’t just him. Nancy had asked you out to lunch or the movies a few times, and even Robin had joined you both at the Wheelers for a slightly awkward girls' night.

It was strange, having friends. You hadn’t finished one novel since The Battle, when summer break usually meant one a day. Weirder than that was that you didn’t even miss them. You could finally admit that your mom was right, real life was better than fiction. Sometimes. Definitely when Steve was around.

“C’mon, we have to go!” Steve called, reaching for your hand behind him. You jumped off the couch, patting Dustin on the head. He screwed up his face, but let you anyway, less argumentative with you after everything that had happened.

You reached Steve as you hopped out the door, lacing your fingers together for the short walk to his car, parked next to your driveway.

Dustin watched the closed door you’d practically sprinted out of, eyes narrowing as he thought about you reaching for Steve. He guessed it made sense; he’d observed you latching on to Steve post-Battle as a kind of grounding agent, a source of comfort after everything you’d been through. And, he recalled your words all those months ago, when you were adamant that you weren’t sleeping with his best friend.

“Where are they going?” He asked his mom as she walked through the living room, picking up a few stray dishes as she went.

“Pictures, I think. She mentioned something about Teen Wolf last night. Isn’t Steve such a nice young man? So charming!” She cooed, already halfway back to the kitchen. Dustin nodded, unenthused, willingly distracted by the crackle of his walkie, plans being made on the other end.

So it was a blissful summer when you could stop thinking about the disgusting rat-monster, filled with outings with your new friends and Dustin’s, hanging out at Scoops, and hardly any bed-rotting.

Retrospectively, you didn’t know how Dustin hadn’t caught on about you and Steve. No one mentioned it explicitly, because they didn’t have to. You were always together and usually touching in some way. Not inappropriately, but his hand resting just above your knee or around your waist, or your pinkies connected as you strolled down the streets of Hawkins. You weren’t one for PDA around your brother or the younger kids, but you were sure you must have pecked Steve’s cheek once or twice in Dustin’s presence, right?

On his end, it was intentional ignorance. The thought of you two getting together was too weird, too dangerous. As he said the day you kissed for the first time, it would completely ruin his life if something happened and he had to choose between you. So the wilful ignorance led to him categorising the touches and questionable moments as strictly platonic, a trauma response, anything that meant he could believe you were just affectionate friends.

The day it all finally went down didn’t feel any different from the other hundred summer days you’d already passed. School was going back in a week or so, and you were savouring every moment you could with Steve before he’d get a job and you’d be occupied with class.

You were both on top of the sheets of your own bed, lazing around as one of your tapes played softly in the background. It was still ridiculously hot, and you’d stripped down to the bare layers, you in a simple pink cotton underwear set, and Steve in his blue checked boxers. No one was home — your mom was at book club with some of the other moms, and Dustin had been out with the party before you’d even woken up — so you were free to be a bit risky. Your door was still closed, though, trying to trap the breeze created by the standing fan in the corner, while the window was cracked for fresh air.

You’d been talking about absolutely nothing, soft murmurs as you described the classes you’d signed up for next year, and Steve told you about his first few days at the video store with Robin. You were glad they would still be together, though of course Robin would only work afternoons and weekends. It was nice for Steve to have a friend other than you now that he wasn’t necessarily popular anymore.

Out of nowhere, a small lightbulb illuminated in your brain.

“You know, I don’t think I ever told Dustin that we’re dating… do you think he knows?” You reflected on moments of strange behaviour which you’d previously chalked up to him not being completely happy that his best friend and sister were together.

“Give him some credit,” Steve said fairly, brushing a piece of hair away from your face with a tenderness that never failed to make your heart skip, “He’s a smart kid. He definitely knows, even if we didn’t tell him straight out.” You nodded, the thought already gone from your head. Steve had a way of doing that to your worries.

You’d moved far on in an hour, jumping from topic to topic with Steve in a way that felt completely natural to you two. He was the kind of person you wanted to tell everything to, for him to know every crevice and forgotten nook of your life.

“No, it’s true!” You giggled, hopping up from the mattress even though it made you dizzy with heat, “You’re looking at Hawkins’ best speller in 1979!”

“I cannot believe I didn’t know this,” Steve said, amusement clear in his tone as he shamelessly checked you out while you reached on your tiptoes for the certificate hidden high on a bookshelf, admiring the curve of your ass in the baby pink underwear and the way it bounced as you hopped for the laminated slip of paper.

You held it in front of you proudly, well aware of the silliness of the achievement. The spelling bee was far from the most impressive accomplishment, even just personally, but you were so proud at the time, and Steve made everything you say feel important.

“Oh, my smart girl,” He crooned, reaching out for you as he sat up at the edge of your mattress. You closed the distance like a magnet, tossing the certificate behind you without care. Carefully, you climbed on top of him, knees on either side of his thighs as you straddled him.

“You like smart girls, Stevie?” You teased, lips brushing his softly. You let him connect them fully, a quiet moan slipping out as he quickly took control of the kiss, hands finding purchase on your hips.

“Mm, like you,” He replied when he finally pulled away from your lips, mouthing wet kisses down the column of your throat. You let your head fall back in lazy pleasure, hips grinding down into his of their own accord. “Smart.” Kiss. “Brave.” Kiss. “Sexy.” Kiss.

Steve was straining against you, the friction of both your undergarments delicious as you bucked into each other.

“Need to feel you, Stevie, please,” You moaned, fingers threaded tightly in his hair, tugging until he groaned. Steve’s hands crept up the skin of your back, featherlight, fiddling with the clasp of your bra until it sprang free.

Behind you, the highest, shrill squeal filled your bedroom, a perfect high C flooding your senses. You reacted immediately, hands flying to hold the bra cups up against your chest, sticking to Steve like a life raft.

“Get out!” You screamed in retaliation, feeling the heat burn your entire face. You didn’t even look at your brother, hoping and praying he’d act fast and just run away.

“What… Ew… How… When…” Dustin was the human embodiment of an error message, spluttering and stalling, unsure of where to look; not wanting to see any more of what was happening despite his human nature to stare at what alarmed him.

“Dustin,” Steve’s voice was unusually steely, hands wrapped around you protectively, “Get out.”

Dustin finally kicked back into regular functioning, slamming your door closed with a final, “What the fuck.”

You finally let yourself unfuse from Steve’s chest, body still tense and rigid. There was an extended pause as you and Steve just looked at each other, unsure of how to react. You broke the stupor first, biting your lip as a small, embarrassed giggle escaped you.

Steve followed, shoulders shaking as he began to see the ridiculous humour in it all. Your head fell against his shoulder as you both devolved into hysterical laughter, embarrassment and shame rolled into the terrible moment.

When it finally died off, you raised your head and faced your boyfriend.

“You said you told him!” An accusatory finger pressed against his chest, without a trace of malice.

“No,” Steve removed the finger, sass oozing from his demeanour, “I said I was sure he already knew. Clearly, he’s not the boy genius we all hyped him up to be.”

You laughed again, shaking your head in faux despair.

“C’mon, loverboy, we’d better go set the record straight.” You slid a sundress over you and watched fondly as Steve shimmied into his jeans, opening the door for him to find Dustin.

Even through his closed bedroom door, you could hear his panic, reaching out for anyone who’d listen over the radio.

“Code red! Harrington and my sister on her bed in their underwear. About to do it!” He cried, and you could distinctly hear raucous laughter from his friends on the other side of the walkie.

“Dustin, what did you expect?” Mike’s voice came first, almost bored at what was certainly a life-shattering event for your brother.

“Yeah, it’s gross you had to walk in on it, but they’ve been dating what? Like three months? It was bound to happen at some point,” Lucas added, and a quieter nod of agreement from Max came after.

“What?” Dustin bellowed, and both you and Steve winced. “They’re dating?”

“Yeah,” Will said, peaceful as ever, “Since, like, before the championship game.”

“You’re joking,” You could hear Dustin pacing, “You’re actually kidding. What the fuck.”

That was as good a cue as any; you knocked lightly on the door.

“Dustin?” You cracked it open, “Can we talk?”

You heard the oohs of five annoying kids over the radio before Dustin shut it off with a start, shrugging his permission as you and Steve stood before him awkwardly.

“So… Before everything else, I’m sorry you had to see that. Obviously, we didn’t think anyone was home, or we would never have done anything.” Dustin just stared at you, unimpressed.

“So you weren’t gonna tell me you’re fucking my sister?” He asked Steve, arms crossed against his chest.

“Jesus, Dustin, language!” You cut him off, covering your face with your hand.

“Henderson, I one hundred per cent, completely honestly thought you knew,” Steve said earnestly, “I would never intentionally sneak around behind your back, dude. That’s just not cool.”

“You’re telling me,” Dustin grumbled.

“Clearly something has happened along the way that’s got us all mixed up, but it was genuinely an accident. Ask us anything you want to know, and we’ll tell you the whole story.” You sat cross-legged on his bedroom carpet, and Steve followed suit, not daring to touch you right now.

“When did it start?”

“May.”

“May?” He yelled, “Jesus Christ. How’d it happen?”

“She tutored me in English all second semester. Then we started hanging out, and I was hardcore crushing all through March and April. We went out to the diner for our first date and have been going out ever since.” Dustin nodded slowly, then narrowed his eyes again.

“So you’re actually dating? Doing it properly? Not just hooking up or whatever?” You shook your head in agreement as Steve grimaced, probably a reminder of his previous life.

“No, dude. I am completely, totally committed to your sister. I love her.” Steve looked at you, softness oozing with every word.

Dustin was in an intense internal battle. On the one hand, Steve Harrington and his older sister being together was too strange, completely mismatched and altogether not supposed to happen. On the other… You both looked so happy. And thinking of the past summer, you’d been happier than he’d ever seen you, leaving the house daily, becoming more social and confident in yourself. And if that was because of Steve, then how could he be mad? Grossed out, maybe, but not mad.

“Pinky promise that he’s being good to you.” Shit. That was the real deal, only coming out in the most serious of moments in the Henderson sibling history. Still, you raised your pinky without hesitation, interlocking it with Dustin’s.

Seemingly satisfied with the promise, Dustin nodded and relaxed, but not without giving Steve a serious brother’s threat, never mind the fact that your boyfriend was still at least a foot taller than him.

“Hey, Steve was gonna stay for dinner, is that okay? It’s alright if today was too much.” Dustin shrugged, his usual demeanour seeping back into his body to lighten up the mood of his room. You beamed when he agreed, squeezing him tight before leading Steve back to your bedroom. You stayed on opposite ends of the bed all evening with the door wide open, just to make sure nothing like the afternoon would ever be repeated.

It was that day that the sex ban was placed on your house by you and Steve. His normally empty place was more than enough for you two.

A few hours later, your mom was home, and the most delicious dinner you’d ever had was on the table. Steve sat opposite you, next to Dustin. Any animosity your brother felt was long gone, having spent the evening coming up with all the positives of you two dating.

“So, did anything exciting happen today?” Your mom asked with a wide smile, the kind she always wore.

“Actually, I have the funniest story…” You told her everything — minus the fact that you and Steve were making out in just your underwear — interrupted by Steve or Dustin for dramatic or comedic effect.

Your mom giggled the whole way through, reaching out to Dustin when the story was finally over.

“Oh, Dusty,” She sighed, squeezing his hand lightly over the table, “You’ve always been clever, but sometimes you are so thick.” Laughter rippled across the table, and when you looked at Steve, he was already staring back at you, gaze so full of love you could physically feel it.

You knew, in that moment, no matter what else had happened that summer, or could happen after, you were truly, perfectly, happy.

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