𝒾𝓉'𝓈 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹 (𝓌𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜𝑔𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇)
steve harrington x buckley!reader
summary: for the first time in your life, you’d spend your first night as a normal teenager. you weren’t cooped up at home, or stuck at work, or monster fighting. nope — steve had invited you and robin to join him at a party. it's supposed to be his in, only some other guy steals his chance. he’s noticed how guys have eyed you before, but now you’ve started taking interest. it’s best you know what you don’t.
word count: 3.7 k
requested! — based on aperture by harry styles
cw: between s3/s4, everyone is 18+ in the fic, language? jealous!steve, allusions to smut, robin attempting to play matchmaker
Homecoming week meant watching Robin march with the band in the town-wide parade, hiding under the bleachers during the game, and party after party. Well… partying if you were popular.
For most of their high school years, the Buckleys weren’t exactly invited to many hometown ragers and house parties. Yet, a little small-town tragedy and the known fact that the cousins had become fast friends with former All-Star Steve Harrington didn’t hurt their chances at an invite.
“Robin, I know that’s my top,” you continued to argue with her from your spot in the back seat, “You literally told me that you would be caught dead shopping at the Gap.”
“Yeah, because I just don’t understand how you afford it,” Robin huffed, smearing the eyeliner on her waterline as she checked her reflection in the mirror, “ You, me, and Steve all make the same shitty five bucks an hour.”
You leaned forward and snatched her mauve lipstick from the little makeup bag, “You aren’t factoring in tip money, plus the fact that I can find cute things on the sales rack too.”
“Hey! That’s mine—”
“Ladies, ladies, please,” Steve interjected, “I cannot see, much less think to drive with all the noise coming from you two.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you complain about a pretty girl making too much noise,” You snidely remarked.
Robin picked up on your snark and easily added fuel to the fire, “He’s just mad that there hasn’t been a pretty girl beneath him in months. Right, Stevie?”
“God, shut up,” Steve whined, running his finger through his already mussed hair.
You both erupted into giggles at Steve’s expense. It had been months since Steve had the success of going on more than two dates with a girl before she seemed to drop him. It was a harsh cycle to observe, but Steve had been insistent that he still had his signature ladies’ charm.
“Well, even if you and I don’t get any action tonight,” Robin looked from Steve, back to you, “Maybe my dear cousin will finally let loose. You know that Mark has been eyeing you up since last summer.”
Before you could shut her down, Steve incredulously eyed you in the rearview mirror, “Mark Lewinsky? Jesus, I thought you had standards.”
You gawked at Steve, flicking the back of his neck. He scoffed, his brow furrowed as he rubbed the tender spot. As you tossed the lipstick back to Robin, your eyes scanned over him, “Please, Steven. Like you’re a saint?”
Steve simply rolled his eyes, taking a right turn into the neighborhood. Even from three houses down, it was clear that a homecoming rager was in full action at this mansion of a home. Teens were split between smoke circles outside and shadowy silhouettes in the windows. Some of the junior varsity boys were setting up a keg stand while a group of cheerleaders pushed past with their varsity boyfriends.
“This party looks like a scene out of a John Hughes spoof,” Robin commented, brows knit together.
You leaned over the center console, glancing between your friends, “I understand that you two work at a video store, but not everything is a movie.”
Both of them scoffed and rolled their eyes before ducking out of either side of the vehicle. However, Steve swiftly reached back to open the car door for you. He continued to gab with Robin while you got to your feet.
“Are you sure we’re actually good to be here?” Robin asked first.
You glanced over to Steve, following up with your own question, “Yeah, you graduated and got an invite to this shindig before we even knew there was going to be a party.”
Steve shut the car door behind you, “Are you guys serious? Girls never need an invitation to parties, plus you two are my plus ones.”
“Do not say that,” Robin fake gagged, “Or else you’re gonna rope everyone into thinking that you’re flirting with cousins, and I don’t think your reputation could take that hit and…”
While Robin rambled on, you simply rolled your eyes and forged ahead, “It’s too late to chicken out now, Rob. Plus, Tammy is probably inside.”
Your cousin scoffed and folded her arms over her chest, “I told you that I’m over Tammy since she moved to Nashville. And there’s no way that Vickie is gonna be inside.”
Steve and Robin quickly caught up to your steps. Steve glided in front of you, leading the trio through the front lawn, “And what about you, missy? You never wear lipstick unless—”
“Unless Mark Lewinsky calls you a total babe in front of the entire varsity basketball team,” Robin cut in, quick to hound you again about the athlete that always seemed eager to capture your attention. No one can torment you as much as your family.
“So what?” You scoffed, stopping right behind Steve, who had become uncharacteristically quiet, “Just because he thinks I’m hot doesn’t mean he’ll make a move.”
Steve reached for the knob of the front door, but stopped as your words suddenly surprised him. Just because he thinks I’m hot doesn’t mean he’ll make a move… But why did he feel so gross about Mark, much less any of his other older teammates, flirting with you? He remembered when Dustin had told him to just pick between you and Robin. He struck out with Robin, probably for the best, since she was practically his sister. But you—
“You just gonna stand there and wait for someone to come to the door, Stevie?” Your voice pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.
He glanced back at you and Robin from over his shoulder. An easy smirk stretched across his lips, “Of course. Just making sure you ladies get plenty of air before we dive headfirst into the party zone.”
“The party zone? Please, Steve, spare us the shitty party vocab and let’s get drunk,” Robin weaved between the two of you, slipping through the front door before Steve could stop her.
His brow furrowed, and he met your gaze once more, a silent question at your cousin’s audacity. You simply shrugged and took a quick step to follow behind.
— — —
You stood between Steve and Robin, arms crossed over your chest. The three of you each had a beer in hand, standing off in a corner of the living room as you watched your fellow classmates bump, grind, and do plenty of things they’d regret come Monday morning.
“Oh my god,” Robin gawked and pointed at one of the couples, “Ally’s totally making out with Roger. Wasn’t she just with you last night, Steve?”
Steve’s eyes widened as he looked between you and Robin, surprised that she brought it up, “Um… no, not last night. God. I have some self-respect.”
He was quiet for a moment as he glanced down at his beer, “It was two weeks ago. But she wants to move to Wisconsin for college.”
You rolled your eyes and downed the remainder of your warm beer, “Don’t people generally, like, dance or do something other than gossip in the corner at these?”
“You want to dance?” Steve was quick to ask.
Robin cut in, “There is no way. This is hardly dancing. Everyone’s just horny and grinding on each other. I can hardly remain up on two feet as is.”
You stepped away from your trio with a sigh, “You two figure it out, I’m getting a new drink.”
Before either of them could press you to join, you had slipped in between a passing group, weaving your way through the living room. The lights were off, except for the bathroom hallway light, where three people were lined up. One looked absolutely prepared to barf. A large radio system had been set up, pumping music throughout the house. Atop it sat globe lights that cast different colors throughout the room as they spun.
You could feel the bass of the music beating through your chest. It was some recent techno radio hit that Steve had likely played on his car radio before. The words were muffled by the loud conversations and laughter of friends. When you finally arrived in the kitchen, someone had finally thought to put the beer in the cooler. At least you didn’t have to choke down another warm beverage.
Cracking open the lid, you quickly chugged down a third of the can. You closed your eyes and shook your head at the bitter taste.
“You know that there’s stuff other than beer to drink, right?” The masculine voice explained from behind you. When you turned, you saw Mark. He’d recently chopped his long hair, which had been a surprisingly good idea. He looked better now that his hair wasn’t always hiding his face.
“Oh?” You hummed and offered him a polite smile, “And do you plan on being my bartender?”
Mark smiled in reply, “I could if you liked.”
He moved to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a couple of bottles
“Didn’t expect to see you here, Buckley,” He glanced at you as he topped the beverage off with some Sprite that someone left out on the counter.
“Why’s that?’ You asked as he offered you to drink. You eyed it once before accepting it.
Mark watched as you took a sip of the alcoholic concoction, his smile lingering, “You’re not exactly like the other girls here. And I’m pretty sure that I’ve never seen you at one of these.”
Your brow raised at his observation. Part of you hadn’t expected him to look for you at a party, and the other part of you cringed at his sentiment. You knew what he meant, because it reminded you of when you’d first met Steve. He’d been much of the same, and you recalled him painting Robin to be so vastly different from other girls. Only you both quickly pulled his head out of his ass and helped him realize the world was more than high school cliches. Maybe that’s why you liked Steve. No, you liked being friends with Steve, You thought to yourself, lightly shaking your head and refocusing your attentions on Mark.
“I figured I’d come to at least one homecoming rager before graduating,” You shrugged and gestured back to the living room, “Do you want to dance?”
— — —
“She’s been gone for twenty minutes, Rob,” Steve huffed, crushing his third beer can against his thigh. He went to toss it on the floor, but Robin stopped him.
“She probably ran into a classmate or is just talking to someone,” Robin attempted to explain with a shake of her head, “Probably trying to be social, which I thought we were going to do too, but you seem keen to wait here like a dog.”
Steve’s brow furrowed at Robin’s comment, “I’m not a dog.”
“Right, you just look at her with those big, brown puppy dog eyes because you’re friends,” Robin snidely remarked as she sipped from her drink.
“We are friends, just like we’re friends,” He gestured between them, clearly exasperated. His eyes searched the crowded living room for any sign of your return once more. He sideeyed the girl next to him, “Besides, I was trying to make a move by asking her to dance before you butt in.”
Robin laughed at his excuse, “And what? Do the same awkward routine of the almost, not quite thing? Please, you guys aren’t out on a first date. You’re friends, as you so claim.”
She made quotations marks in the air, returning the look of confusion that he seemed to permanently adopt.
Sure, Robin had a point. He had become increasingly aware of the shift in himself. His dating life had significantly dwindled in the past few months. When you or Robin would press him about it, he would claim that he was ‘focused on himself and the future,’ to which either of you would make a sarcastic remark. But gone were the days of watching Robin add another tally to her scorecard, because no matter what he claimed, Steve knew that he couldn’t continue going out with other girls when he pictured you in their place. It wasn’t fair to himself or his dates, so it had become easier to just stop altogether.
Robin flicked the fuzz off the shoulder of his polo, “I don’t think friends in the appropriate term, but you both seem set in your denial.”
Steve scoffed, tearing his eyes off the faces in the crowd. His brow creased, a scoff escaping him, “Both?”
“Both,” Robin repeated, nodding her head like it was obvious, “At first I thought you two were waiting for my blessing, but then I realized that you’re both just hopelessly dancing around this unspoken thing—”
He held up a hand, “There isn’t an unspoken thing.”
“Okay,” Robin shook her head in disbelief. She was fully prepared to disprove his statement, only to find the proof right in front of them. It was a bitch not to smirk at the scene that was playing out before her. She cocked her head in your direction on the dancefloor, “So you don’t mind that she’s currently dancing with Mark Lewinsky, who looks ready to drag her into one of the upstairs bedrooms to suck face.”
Steve’s jaw went slack at the shock of computing the words in his head. When he finally came back, he whipped his head around to find where Robin’s eyes had fixated. Sure enough, you were out on the dance floor with one of Lewinsky’s arms draped around your waist.
“Why the fuck does it have to be Lewinsky?” Steve scoffed and ran his free hand over his face. His throat tightened at the scene, and suddenly, the overwhelming sense of defeat trapped his gaze.
He wanted nothing more than to trade places right now. It was supposed to be his hands guiding your waist, your hips bumping back against his while you giggled and blamed it on the alcohol. Why couldn’t you see that Mark couldn’t give you what Steve could?
“The universe works in mysterious ways,” Robin hummed as she averted her gaze, “And I seriously wish that you two would just get your shit together.”
Steve went silent but refused to look elsewhere. He stood rigidly, back flat against the wall as he forced his eyes to remain focused, only shifting to follow where Mark touched you. If he couldn’t be the one to hold you, he’d at least block Mark from getting too far.
— — —
It was a good twenty minutes before the energy lulled again, and couples pulled off the dancefloor. Robin stepped away to chat with someone she knew from the band, saying she needed to ‘avoid the yearning aura’ he was exuding. Even Mark had finally managed to give you some space after practically grinding himself against you for the past ten minutes. Steve grit his teeth as Mark accepted your empty cup, likely offering you a fresh beverage.
Once the senior boy was gone, Steve finally had the opportunity to pull you out of whatever trance Mark had you in. There was no way you were hanging out with that bench warmer over him. Him and Robin. Of course. Right…
Your eyes followed Mark’s retreating form as he went back to the kitchen. It was painfully obvious that he wanted to get his dick sucked, if not score a one-way ticket into a night with you. But as fun as hanging out with Mark could be, it was hardly engaging, nor were there any real feelings there.
The warm hand that wrapped around your forearm surprised you. You whipped your head around to find Steve, brows furrowed like he was cross with you. His gaze was filled with a fire and fury you’d never see directed at yourself.
Your defenses were quickly back up, eyes narrowing with a lingering threat, “Can I fucking help you?”
The disgust in your voice surprised him, but Steve held his ground, “Why are you hanging out with Lewinsky? I invited you to this party.”
No matter how many months had passed since your friendship with Steve began, you could never quite believe his levels of audacity. You jerked back, tugging yourself free from Steve’s hold, “So? I’m only allowed to hang out with you?”
“Well, I just didn’t think you’d ditch me so early in the night to run off and make bad decisions,” Steve easily accused, hands firmly planted on his hips.
You mimicked his stance, “Says the King of bad decisions. You’re just mad that I might actually score and break my dry spell when you can’t.”
Steve felt the heat radiating off his face, his chest burning with a strange mixture of humiliation and restraint, “What? No— I just don’t get— Lewinsky? Out of anyone else?”
“Don’t sound so jealous,” You taunted, pressing your luck.
“Jealous?” Steve seethed as his hand caught your wrist once more, “I just figured you had more self-respect than letting some shitty jock bag you at a party.”
“You’re just mad that you’re not the shitty jock getting some tonight.” You took a half step forward, sizing him up.
Steve froze when he smelled the alcohol on your breath, “You’re already tipsy, aren’t you?”
You rolled your eyes, but the truth was difficult to deny when you nearly tripped over your own feet while standing still.
“I’m being a normal teenager,” You excused, ignoring the tingling sensation you felt when Steve’s arm settled around your middle, “I just want one night to be a little reckless.”
His serious expression cracked as he considered his words. Sometimes he forgot about the heavy secrets and traumas now shared between the two of you and Robin. He didn’t have time to address the nagging feeling of guilt in the back of his mind when you started tugging him back.
“What are you doing?” Steve flustered, glancing around the room to see if he might be able to spot Robin.
“I told you, I want to dance,” You hummed, your tipsy confidence pushing you out of your comfort zone, “And if you’re gonna bitch about me dancing with Lewinsky, then I suppose I’m just gonna have to dance with you.”
The bass buzzed from the low synth line, followed by a consistent thump that could be felt in your ears and chest. Colored lights continued to swirl over the dark room, only giving you fragmented pieces of Steve’s expression. He seemed confused yet obliged your request. His warm palm pressed against the sliver of bare skin between the hem of your shirt and the waistband of your jeans.
His fingers gently brushed over the curve, and you had to force yourself not to shiver. Steve appeared content to follow your lead, not wanting to risk it and watch you pull away again. As much as he loved the chase, he was tired of running in circles, and something in the way you held his gaze made him think you were tired of it too.
Steve made the first move, stepping closer so his leg could slide between yours. You were chest-to-chest, eyes fixated on each other as if daring the other to break the contact.
“You look good tonight,” He hummed, trying to charm his way to your heart like he used to do back in high school. But you knew Steve Harrington, and preferred him to whatever remnants of King Steve this was.
“As opposed to every other night?” You taunted with a smile, “Besides, Lewinsky beat you to that one.”
He rolled his eyes at your antics, but you easily spotted the amusement that danced in his eyes, “Right, don’t get smart with me, Buckley. I was trying to compliment you.”
“Trying being the keyword.” Your hand traveled up to rest on his shoulder as you both swayed in tandem.
“I try very hard for you,” Steve nodded, ducking his head closer, “You just never seem to notice.”
The truth was, you had noticed, it was just something you never wanted to accept. Because once you accepted it, you knew that your friendship with Steve would change. The hardest thing to swallow about liking Steve was that you didn’t want to lose a friend. You say how hard he tried to impress the last few girls who agreed to go out with him, and you didn’t recognize the guy he tried to present himself as. You didn’t need him to pretend to be someone else when you liked the silly, blabbermouth Steve that you met through your equally bizarre cousin.
“You don’t have to try. I actually would perfer if you didn’t,” You started, eyes flickering over his face as his expression dropped slightly. You clear your throat to continue, “Because I already like what’s there.”
“I… think I get what you’re trying to say? But if I’m honest, I’m only understanding half of it,” He chuckled and shook his head.
“Right, right,” You easily laughed as your other hand came to drape over his shoulders, “I just mean that I really like Steve Harrington. Not Steve The Hair Harrington or King Steve or whatever mask you try to wear… I like you.”
You poked at his chest, and a genuine laugh escaped him at the gesture. He shook his head, absorbing the words before he simply nodded.
“And… you definitely prefer me over Lewinsky, right?” Steve asked, a knowing smirk already gracing his lips.
A soft giggle sounds just under your breath, and Steve thinks it might just be his favorite sound in the world.
Your fingertips brush against the back of his neck, and Steve shivers, the sudden realization of your closeness sinking in. Before he can realize what’s happening, you’re gently tugging him down to meet your lips. Steve’s hands quickly grasp your hips to steady himself, but once he’s grounded, his lips move languidly over your own. He pours everything that he feels into the kiss, knowing that he would never be able to find the perfect words to tell you exactly how he feels in the moment or any moment shared with you.
His tongue glides over your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance. When it's granted, Steve wraps one arm around your waist while the other dances up your spine. He tugs you closer, the two of you continuing to rock against each other as the bass keeps the beat.
The kiss is something surprisingly messy and raw, yet exactly what it needs to be. And as Steve tugs you towards a dark corner, giggling like a boy again, you come to your own realization. It finally appears — it’s only love.
— thanks for reading! hope you enjoyed 💋
