Steve crouched down at the edge of the fire, using a fallen branch as a make shift tool, jostling the kindling and embers further inside the flames. He'd been a boy scout, briefly, but hadn't stuck with it - still, he'd enjoyed what he'd learned at the time, even if it had just been a way to try and get him out of the house.
Dustin pulled out a lawn chair from the back of Steve's truck, and stretched it out near the warmth of the hearth. He flopped down in it, and let out a happy exhale, curls getting longer again, bouncing with him. Steve wished he could be so relaxed, even if it was just a ruse.
"So, not the landlords son?" Dustin asked, trying to carry on their conversation from before they'd left. Steve just shook his head, moving to his own seat, trying to unwind as he took in the smell of the wood burning, the crackles, and the soft orange glow.
"No, I've only seen him once, and he was pretty old." Steve answered, reaching to take out a beer from the cooler. Neither of them were stupid enough to actually get drunk, but one drink wouldn't hurt. "Her grandson, though. I've seen him a couple times! I think we went to school together, but he didn't really stand out if we did. We've never spoken. Don't even know his name."
Dustin hummed to himself, bringing up his legs to sit under them, criss cross. "Still, he's our best first lead. Right age and place. Would have the ability to get into your apartment. Just because you haven't spoken, doesn't mean he wouldn't know who you are."
It didn't feel convincing enough for Steve, he didn't think the guy had even made eye contact with him the few times he had seen him. Still, Dustin was right, as usual, he'd be the best place to start. Maybe, at least, he'd know how someone could get in without obviously breaking and entering.
"I'm just trying to consider all our options. What about Tommy?" Dustin asked him, and Steve blanched. He had little love loss for his old friend, if he could still even think of him as a friend, after making actual friends. In retrospect, Tommy was a friend of convenience and status. But, Tommy wasn't violent. He made threats, he enjoyed taunting, but Steve knew Tommy was more the type to goad others into fights for his entertainment, not one to jump in himself.
"I doubt it," Steve answered, shaking his head. He knew why Dustin was asking, obviously they'd had history together, but Steve couldn't see Tommy H writing those letters. They hadn't even spoken since Billy Hargrove died, Tommy had simply brushed past Steve at Hargrove's funeral, telling him it should have been him. "He's a dick - but this?...I don't think so."
Dustin clearly wasn't fully convinced, but he moved past it for now. "Who else? Anyone in school, guys, who were weirdly obsessed with you? Maybe ones you thought were gay?"
"Only two - one is dead, and the other dated Nancy Wheeler for a few years, you might know him." Steve said with some dry humor, getting an eye roll from Dustin.
"Okay, okay... Well, maybe we switch focus. Maybe someone I know? I can't imagine any of my bullies would have the intelligence to get in and out undetected, I can't imagine any of Eddie's band mates would- though, I know a few of them really don't like you." Dustin told him, bouncing his knee as he spoke. "Gareth, maybe. I doubt it, I can follow him a bit and see what's up. He did once call you a standard pretty boy soc, and everything wrong with society, until I told him off for it."
Steve tried to smile at the idea of Dustin defending him, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. He felt a bit guilty, that he'd not done more to reach out to Eddie's friends after he died. They weren't friends, obviously, but he had been Eddie's friend - if only for a few days. He should have done more, for everyone. Especially...
"Maybe it's secretly you." Steve suggested, with a half smile. "Access to your house and mine. Obsessed with me and my good looks."
Dustin's expression turned fond. "Oh yeah? Who told you I obsess over your perfect hair and pretty eyes, I'll kill 'em."
Steve snorted, leaning back in his chair, to look up at the sky. There was still some blue, but it was getting increasingly darker out. They'd already ate, set up the campsite. They'd heard a single other car in the campground, likely the groundskeeper, but never saw anyone anywhere nearby. It was quiet out, the kind of nights Steve normally adored.
"Smells like it's going to rain," Dustin commented, getting his attention. Steve turned to him, and the moment he moved his head, a water droplet hit his nose.
"Nice going, Henderson, look what you did." Steve huffed, wiping at his face as it began to sprinkle. "Let's go to bed. Help me put out the fire. No, don't you touch my beer."
The night dragged on once they were in the camper, and Steve couldn't get any rest. They'd brought tools to defend themselves, they'd not told anyone exactly where they were going, and as far as they were aware, they hadn't been followed. He should be safe. He should have been able to close his eyes and drift off with no worries. He could hear Dustin doing much the same, snoring away on his bed at the head of the camper.
Steve sat up, running his hands through his hair, feeling exhaustion dragging him back to the mattress, and yet he was fighting it the entire way. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, Steve plodded out into the main section of the camper, and while it was a bit hard to see, Dustin was unmistakeable. He was sprawled over the mattress, in what looked like it should have been an extremely uncomfortable position. Everything about how he slept should have annoyed Steve - Dustin took up way too much space for his height, he snored, he was a lip smacker, and a shin kicker if you had to share his space.
And yet, Steve couldn't look away from him, sleeping peacefully. Hopefully, Steve thought to himself, Dustin would always be this comfortable with Steve nearby, that he'd always feel safe near him. Steve would never imagine his life would lead him here, but he wouldn't have changed a moment of it. Steve reached down, brushing hair away from Dustin's eyes.
That was the thing that finally had Steve yawning, losing the war with the sandman.
Until Steve glanced up, and saw a figure in the window, only illuminated by the moon's reflection on a rain soaked hood.