Something borrowed pt. 2
Steve Harrington x reader
Driving back to your hometown shouldn't be a big trouble to you. You had a functional car, a place to stay at and friends to see. If it wasn't for the fact that your best friend Nancy invited you to come to her wedding. So here you were, faking smiles, holding lace trains while you watched her marry the love of her life.
Part 1
"What about Melbourne Street, heard there was a house on sale?" Ted Wheeler offered as he mindlessly flipped through the newspaper. You were nursing your second coffee at the breakfast table as the Wheeler family discussed Nancy's plans of moving out.
Nancy shook her head. "I wan't something that's closer to Hawkin's post so I don't have to drive every morning. Steve's parents offered to ask their realtor friends, they found a hose pretty close, just needs a little reparations."
"Steve is moving here permanently?" The question escaped you before you could catch it. Karen and Nancy both looked at you surprised.
"I mean, of course you're gonna move in together," you tried to cover your slip up with a chuckle. "I just didn't know you were staying in Hawkins." Your voice grew quieter with every word.
"Pathetic," Mike mumbled beside you with a huffed laugh and you kicked his shin under the table. "Ow." He glared at you before he noticed everyone looking at him. "Bit my tongue."
"Well," Nancy continued without reacting to her brother, "since I'm chief editor at Hawkins post I don't see why not? Moving to the city means looking for a new job and since Steve's got a job offering at Hawkins High it seems convenient."
You choked on your next sip of coffee, coughing. Mike let out a quiet cackle before he hit your back. Your eyes were tearing up embarrassingly as you coughed on for a minute before you could take a proper breath again. "Sorry, wrong pipe," you mumbled. Steve was moving to Hawkins. Of course he was. If Steve Harrington entered a serious relationship he'd do anything to make his partner happy. Even if it meant being miserable himself.
No. No. He wasn't miserable. People changed. Maybe he didn't dislike small towns after all.
"That sounds great." You tried mustering up a smile but the way Nancy was looking at you told you all you needed to know.
"I think it's very nice of the Harringtons to help you out. They'll choose something nice and not this nonsense Steve's been spewing," Karen added.
You frowned confused and Mike was the one to clear it up. "He's been renting Eddie's old trailer for the past six months. Wanted Nancy to move in."
"Oh." It was more of a breath than a word.
"Mom, it was only a temporary solution. I don't think Steve meant to stay there forever," Nancy said quietly, pushing around the scrambled eggs on her plate.
"Yeah, right," Mike whispered beside you and you shot him a look. "Well, I gotta go, Will wanted to meet up earlier before school." Mike left the table, ignoring the soft scoff from Ted.
The air felt more awkward then ever as Nancy didn't look up from her plate, Ted noisily flipping the newspaper and Karen adding a soft pinch to her smile.
"Well, what's on the itinerary today?" You asked cheerily, earning a grateful smile from Nancy.
“We’ve already narrowed the flavors down for the wedding cake but Nancy wanted to go over them again,” Karen explained with a soft pinch in her cheek. “For whatever reason.”
“Mom, you’ve chosen vanilla with pistachio cream,” Nancy sighed. You stiffened, sharing a look with Nancy. Steve was allergic to pistachio.
“So? It’s perfectly sweet with a little crunch, I talked to Steve’s mother about it. She agreed.”
“Of course she would,” you mumbled, gaining Karen’s disapproving look. You cleared your throat nervously. You’d always hated that look, like she could burn you with the power of a thousand suns. “I just mean, it would be a pity if the groom couldn’t try his own cake, at his own wedding.”
Karen waved it away lazily while Ted apparently had a lot to say that morning. “Men don’t care for sweet stuff anyway.”
Your lips parted to protest but Nancy shot you a look.
“We should get going.” She got up from her seat, chair scraping loudly against the floor.
“The car’s in for today,” Ted added lazily, flipping another page of the newspaper as if it would somehow pull him out of his endless stupor wrapped in self pity and disgust.
“Right.” Nancy caught your hand and pulled you up as well, no chance of putting away your dishes. The air outside felt tense, the smell of the earth rising as if it was about to rain.
“We’ll go by foot, Steve is gonna pick us up later.” Nancy pulled the strap of her bag over her shoulder, heeled boots clicking against the pavement as you followed her confused.
“He’s not gonna join?”
“He’s working today and he already told me that it was up to me to choose the cake,” Nancy explained, her eyes on the passing houses. “I don’t think he cares much for the details of the wedding, I mean my dad didn’t either.”
You pursed your lips. It was strange, hearing Nancy talk about this Steve that was so different from yours—from him back then. Steve had always been so caring and particular when it came to the people he cared about. You always imagined him being with Nancy to decide every little detail, make it as perfect as he could.
“But you’re not actually going for a pistachio cream, right?” You asked tentatively.
Nancy shot you a look with a small smile on her lips. “God, no. Can you actually believe they want a cake he can’t even eat?”
You shrugged. “Wouldn’t be their first attempt to almost off him.”
“Right.” Nancy nodded thoughtfully. “I always forget that you know that part of his life longer than I do.”
“I don’t,” you were quick to deny. “Steve doesn’t—didn’t like talking about his parents.”
Nancy nodded, as if deep in thought. Her teeth caught her bottom lip, hands fiddling with the strap of her bag. You’d never seen her this nervous, Nancy was pretty outspoken. She knew what she wanted, if something was bothering her, she would needle you until you were soft as goo, giving in and doing whatever she wanted.
“He’s been very quiet these past weeks,” Nancy started. “I know he’s pretty busy, this new job he wants to be perfect at, building the house, even Dustin—“
“Wait—he’s building a house?” Your steps faltered, hand coming up to grip her arm. Nancy looked at you surprised.
“Just reparations. To be done once we move in, he insisted he’d handle everything. Even the inner design.” Nancy smiled slightly. “He’s been very dedicated. But I haven’t seen him enough and when I do he’s too tired to actually talk. I’m scared he’s regretting this.”
“Why would you think that?” You hoped she wouldn’t hear the slight tremor in your voice.
Nancy huffed before shaking her head. “Just…forget about it. Let’s go.” With a blink of the eye she hooked her arm through yours before pulling you along with a smile.
*
“This one’s good,” you said around a mouthful of mascarpone and cocoa powder.
“I guess,” Nancy pushed the piece of cake around on her plate. “I also liked the strawberry one.”
You swallowed, putting your fork down at the look on her face. “What?”
Nancy looked up at you, a worried glance in her eyes. “What do you think Steve would like the most.”
Your brows rose, eyes taking in the many spreads of different cakes you’d tried. Your glass of water was almost empty, used as a palette cleanser in between bites. “How would I know?”
“You know him better than I do,” Nancy pushed. “I want the wedding to be perfect for the both of us.”
“Nancy, as much as I hate agreeing with your dad but I don’t think Steve is gonna care about what icing you chose on the cake.” Your gaze softened as you reached for her hand over the table. Fingers intertwining you squeezed hers gently. “He’ll only care that it’s you standing at the other end of the altar.”
You didn’t understand what had triggered this sudden sense of insecurity in Nancy. It wasn’t like your friend at all but you blamed it on wedding jitters and cold feet.
“I know that.” Nancy shoulders straightened as her hand slipped out of yours, eyes closing up strangely. “I just thought maybe you’d knew what taste he’d like the most.”
“Steve’s changed a lot over time,” you shrugged. “I doubt he still likes the same things.”
Nancy arched a brow. “That man takes his coffee with three sugars since his eyes saw the light of the world. And you’ve lived with that man for four years.”
You shrugged, eyeing one particular plate once and again. “You’ve been the one dating him for two and a half years.”
“That’s different.” Nancy clicked her tongue.
You frowned. “How?”
“He might tell you different things than me. Friendships work differently than relationships.”
Right. Nancy got a side of Steve you never had in your life. A side you’d never get the chance to see. But still. Wasn’t it weird that she didn’t know his favorite flavor? Shouldn’t one, as a partner, know little things like these?
“Have you…heard about Jonathan?” Nancy asked almost timidly, doing a 180.
You blinked for a moment. “What do you mean? Hasn’t he RSVP’d yet?”
“No, no of course he did.” Nancy was suddenly very much interested in the chocolate ganache, poking at it with her fork. “He said he’d come but he’s out filming in Chicago, so he’ll make it here one week before the wedding.”
“Well then you’ve heard more of him than I did,” you said. Jonathan was always more Steve’s friend than yours. They had met at his internship in Chicago, friendship only sparked when Steve realized Jonathan was from Hawkins. Funnily, Steve had a friend from Hawkins too and the rest was history, or so he’d told you.
“He’s been shooting that one film, right?” You asked, eyes flipping to the plate of cake again.
“The Consumer,” Nancy mumbled and you nodded.
“Yeah, Right. That’s the one.”
Nancy huffed, straightened her shoulders before reaching over for the chocolate cake. “Chocolate it is.”
After a few little more details to settle, you and Nancy stepped out of the bakery, out into the pouring rain.
“Ugh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Nancy murmured, drawing her jacket tighter around her shoulders. Her hands were trying to straighten her carefully curated blowout, as a sleek SUV stopped on the curb. You grimaced at the look of the car barely making the connection. You could barely see through the rain, eyes squinting as Steve got out of the car.
Your heart stuttered as you took in the crinkled white shirt, stretching taught over his shoulders, see-through the moment the rain caught him. He had on some serious looking slacks, trousers he wouldn’t have been caught dead in back in ‘88. He swore to you that he’d let you drag him to the ends of hell if he’d ever end up dressing like his dad.
And now he did, and even worse he didn’t even look bad in it. He rushed over to the passenger door, opening it up for Nancy to duck into the car.
“What are you doing?” Steve called over the prattling rain. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d stepped out under the roof, rain soaking your skin to the bone. It didn’t matter.
Steve looked at you for a moment, body still as yours. Just for a moment you wanted to feel him. Wanted the same rain that was touching his skin to touch yours. A shiver ran down your spine as you blinked through the rain.
You were pulled out of it when Steve grabbed your wrist pulling you towards the snobby car. He ushered you into the backseat, hands warm and steady as they brushed your fingertips. Your hands went for the door handle as you looked up, meeting Steve’s eyes for a split second.
You closed the car door, leather squeaking beneath you as water dripped steadily from your hair. Steve got into the drivers seat with a huff, brushing his wet strands from his face.
"It came out of nowhere," Nancy huffed, trying to desperately fix her hair. "I hate the rain, especially when it's like this."
You looked up, meeting Steve's eyes in the mirror. Soft crinkles build around his eyes, your heart tightening as you held your breath. Steve shifted gears, car pealing off the side of the road as he spoke again, "We've survived worse."
1988
"Do you think it's gonna clear up?" There was a soft lilt to Steve's voice, his body a little more unsteady than usual. After four beers that didn’t seem to far off.
"Is that a serious question you want me to answer?" You huffed. You were both hovering under the roof of the bar, hiding away from the pouring rain. You wouldn't make it one step without completely drenching yourself.
The bar behind you was safe and warm, the incessant chatter of the people a muted melody in your back. It had cleared after a while, the evening slowing down, people winding up and cuddling up into their blankets at home.
"We could make a run for it," his voice was close as he stood behind you, his chest grazing your back. You shivered, from the cold, before glancing at him over your shoulder, exasperated.
"It's four blocks, Steve."
"Don't tell me you're scared of a little rain?" He arched a brow, face lowering slightly. You could smell the beer on his breath, see the freckles and moles dotting his skin like constellations.
"I'm not scared. I'm just not keen on taking a full body shower right now.” Your fingers combed through your strands for a moment. It was stupid but it wasn’t hair wash day and if it got soaked, it would throw off your whole routine.
Suddenly Steve was moving, arms yanking at his curdaroy jacket.
"What are you doing?" You frowned as you watched him shrug out of his jacket.
"You won't get as wet." He forced your arms through the arm holes of his jacket, sleeves swallowing your hands. There was a concentrated look on his face, tongue peeking out between his lips as he zipped you up. His knuckles brushed the underside of your chin once he was done and your heart did a little skip.
"There you go, all wrapped up." A soft smile split his lips, so devastatingly handsome that you couldn't help but lean in. He was still holding your chin—holding was the wrong word, his fingers hovering, barely touching but touching enough. There was a sudden shift in the air, Steve's eyes dipped as the steady beat of the rain turned into background noise.
"So what's it gonna be, city girl, risk or reward?" Steve mumbled, nose bumping yours. Blood was rushing in your ears, your body pulled close by an invisible string. This was it. You had dreamed of this your entire life.
Sudden thunder boomed, drawing you both away from each other in surprise. Steve chuckled nervously, scratching his neck as he glanced away from you.
"You're right," you chuckled, trying to laugh the stuffy air away. "It's just rain."
Steve looked at you then, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol. He nodded before he reached out, fingers intertwining with yours. "On three?"
You nodded.
"One." His hand squeezed yours gently, both your bodies leaning forward.
"Two." A slow smirk was forming on his lips as he pushed a few wayward strands from his face.
"Three." You both started with soft giggles as you rushed down the street. The rain was as unforgiving as ever, prattling down on your heads like it was punishing you for a secret. Lightning lit in the sky as Steve pulled you along with joyous laughter, looking at you every two seconds as if to make sure you still existed.
Your boots slipped along the wet pavement but your heart filled with such a sharp, beautiful feeling that you didn't even care that you were soaked to your bones.
Steve pulled you over the street, a car honking at you before you dipped around the next corner, a stitch slowly forming in your side as you ran for your life.
Time didn't mean anything, the only thing clear was Steve's warm hand in yours, his deep laugh in your ears, the steady thumping of your heart. It grew so full and loud, for a moment you were scared he could hear it beside you. He must've heard it, it was so clearly calling his name.
The moment the damaged door came into view something inside you sunk. You didn't want the moment to end, didn't want to step in your shared apartment and be doused in the sharp edges of reality. But Steve didn't let go of your hand as he unlocked the apartment door, didn't let go of it when he ushered you up the narrow, creaky steps of your apartment complex.
The hallway smelled like burned cheese and festering mold but you were still soaring, propelled on by Steve's hand around yours. You dripped onto the floor as he pulled you into the bathroom, hand finally letting yours go.
"My god, I've never seen it pour like that," Steve mumbled with a soft chuckle as he pulled his soaked sweater over his head. Your breath hitched. You had seen Steve shirtless before. Your apartment's AC was as reliable as the local tram, offering unbearable summers in which Steve formed this habit to run around the apartment in nothing but shorts.
So it was nothing new, still when you watched the muscles of his back move beneath the skin as he sniffled slightly, hands going for his belt buckle, something pulled taught in your stomach. You swallowed, standing frozen in time as he dragged his wet jeans down his legs. Holy mother of god.
"What?" Steve looked at you surprised.
"N-nothing." Your teeth chattered from the cold that buried steadily in your bones.
"What are you doing? You're gonna catch a cold." He approached you, peeling you out of his jacket and your soaked dress, stripping you apart piece by piece until you were both standing in front of each other in nothing but your underwear. Soul's bared.
"Come on, we gotta warm up." Steve's cheeks were glowing pink as he pulled you beneath the shower head first.
"Fuck," you hissed as the stream poured on you hotly, steam billowing around you as you both shivered. There wasn't enough space for the both of you to stand under the hot stream simultaneously. Steve was rubbing your arms reassuringly, his gaze so soft your knees turned wobbly.
"You're gonna freeze," you told him with chattering teeth. Steve smiled. "'M gonna be fine. I want to warm you up first." You shook your head as your muscles relaxed under the heat. You grabbed his arm, pulling him closer, so close your cold nose bumped his collar bone. Steve flinched but awkwardly wrapped his arms around you, groaning when the hot stream met both your skin.
"Jesus," he murmured as he put his chin on top of your head. Your arms were hovering between your bodies, not sure where to put them until Steve stepped even closer, your palms meeting his chest. You closed your eyes in agony, a hot pulse jumping through your middle as you tried to ignore the soft groans leaving his lips.
"If we don't die from the cold, we'll burn our skin by the water," you chuckled and felt him grin against your forehead, lips grazing against your skin.
"We've survived worse," he mumbled against your skin and for a moment it felt like he was pressing a soft kiss against your temple but the sensation was gone so fast you waved it off to wishful thinking.
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