Steve startles slightly at Dustin's sudden outburst. It's been quiet in the car for the past fifteen minutes, and Steve is no longer used to the way Dustin suddenly rockets into conversations.
"Jesus, dude. You can't do that when I'm driving. And no I'm not. I'm acting completely normal," Steve says, glancing over at Dustin. He's staring intently at Steve, calculating.
"Yes you are. You're weirdly happy," Dustin says.
"What? I'm always happy. I can't smile because I get to see my little brother?" Steve demands. Dustin narrows his eyes as his hands shift awkwardly on the steering wheel.
"Nice try. Now spit it out, what's her name?"
Steve clears his throat and readjusts in his seat, eyes firmly on the road.
"There's no girl, Henderson," he insists. Dustin huffs at him and slumps in his seat. Steve really thought the dramatics would stop after high school, but it seems to be ingrained into him. Not that Steve has much room to talk, really, but Dustin is on another level.
"I thought we told each other everything," Dustin grumbles darkly. Steve sighs. The kid really does know how to get his way.
"Jesus, kid. We do. We do," Steve mutters. He takes a deep breath.
"There really isn't a girl, Dustin," Steve says. Dustin opens his mouth to protest, but cuts himself off abruptly with a strangled huh.
"So there is a guy?" Dustin ventures.
"Is that-" Steve has to clear his throat twice. "Is that okay?" He asks.
Dustin twists in his seat to fully face Steve, and Steve can picture the no shit look on his face without even taking his eyes off the road.
"No I know, it's just," Steve trails off.
"Yeah Steve, of course it's okay," Dustin drawls, somehow managing to be reassuring and scathing at the same time. "Why the hell wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know! It's just, new, I guess. Scary," Steve admits. Dustin softens, doesn't snap back immediately.
"Yeah, I know," Dustin says. He doesn't know, necessarily, but he remembers Will, and Robin, and all the other people in his life that have come out. He knows it's not exactly easy. He studies Steve for a moment, his grip on the steering wheel, the way his gaze has barely moved from the road since the conversation started.
"How long have you known?" Dustin asks. Steve chuckles, a little self-deprecatingly in the way Dustin really hates.
"He kissed me like three months ago, so about three months," Steve says wryly. He smiles a little, like he can't help it. "Kinda put some stuff in perspective, honestly."
"What kind of stuff?"
The smile on Steve's face fades a little, and the air in the car shifts.
"I think," Steve hesitates and glances towards Dustin, nervous again. Steve is hardly nervous or twitchy like this these days, and it makes Dustin itch.
"I think I had a thing for Eddie?" Steve says. Dustin lets out a startled laugh. It still hurts, thinking about Eddie, but it doesn't sting anymore. It doesn't twist his insides into knots, doesn't make him nauseous and angry, at least not often. There's a bright ball of fondness and nostalgia, now, when he thinks about him.
"Oh my god," Dustin can barely hold back his laughter. Steve's smile comes back a little.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he grumbles, but it's half-hearted at best.
"You know I think he-" Dustin cuts himself off. Him and Eddie were close, close enough that Dustin knew that secret. He doesn't really know the ethics of outing someone who's-- who's been gone for this long. But this is Steve. He clears his throat.
"I think he had a thing for you, too," Dustin says softly, hesitantly, scared of ruining the mood again. Steve glances at him, smile a little sad, now.
"Yeah?" He asks.
"Yeah," Dustin says, "he was kinda obsessed with you, I think. I thought it was because he hated you, but now, I don't know, he told me you were very metal."
Steve laughs, eyes a bit bright. Dustin takes a breath. It doesn't sting anymore, but it hurts. They listen to the radio for a moment, lost in thought.
"So, tell me about this boy then. What's his name?"
Steve cringes and Dustin is immediately suspicious. Steve looks at him sheepishly.
If he hadn't been braced for it, Steve might have swerved the whole damn camper off the road.
"Henderson," Steve admonishes.
"Sorry, sorry, that's just the last person I expected you to say," Dustin says. He sounds a bit shell-shocked. "You and Jonathan, like, hate each other."
"What? Dustin, we haven't hated each other since 1987. Well, I haven't hated him since at least '86. But we're friends now! We've been friends," Steve says. He knows Dustin knows this. He's told him about the near-monthly vacations at Robin's weird Uncle's house, and Steve moved to New York. Of course he's friends with Jonathan.
"Okay sure, but it’s Jonathan,” Dustin says, “He makes weird esoteric student films and you teach middle school. You guys don’t make any sense.” Which, okay, now he’s just being rude.
“Mmhm, and I thought we were supposed to not care about that ‘high school shit,’” Steve replies, “and I don’t see what’s wrong about teaching middle school, dipshit.”
“Nothing! Of course nothing’s wrong with teaching middle school. Leading the youth, raising the next generation, whatever. I just don’t understand how it works.” Dustin’s voice is getting dangerously loud now, and Steve is relieved when their campsite comes into view.
“I know I teach sex-ed sometimes Dustin, but I didn’t think I needed to explain how two men can-”
“Ew! No, I know how that part works! Gross, Steve!”
Steve cackles as Dustin scrambles to vacate the car before it’s fully stopped moving, blissfully free of the interrogation for a moment. The thing is, Steve thinks that Dustin is kind of right. Him and Jonathan don’t make sense, except for all of the ways in which they do.
Steve thought he’d miss Hawkins like a limb, when he moved. His home, where he became a man, where his life split down the middle and was made better in spite of it. And he does, sometimes. Misses the hard-earned safety of it, the community and the warmth. But it was always the people that mattered more. And after Joyce and Hopper moved, being so far from everyone who mattered, the only one left in Hawkins, it didn’t make sense anymore.
So, for the first time in his life, Steve left home. Landing in the same neighborhood as Jonathan made it feel like things were going to be just fine, though. And between late dinners and early breakfasts and weekends spent complaining about students and teachers alike, something in Steve… shifted. And when Jonathan kissed him that night on his couch, it felt like coming home. Like finding a new home.
“I just feel like I would’ve heard about it,” Dustin complains. It’s been almost an hour, and Steve foolishly thought Dustin had just dropped it entirely. Steve huffs a laugh as he digs through his bag for his lighter.
“What, you guys gossip about me often?” Steve asks. He doesn’t doubt it really, he gets updates from Dustin about all the rugrats all the time, usually stuff he doesn’t need to know. Then he’ll get the truer version of events from Max later, and the actual account comes from Jonathan, who gets it from Will.
“No,” Steve gives him a look, “Okay, yes, but it’s never bad, I swear. I just don’t know how this stayed secret.” It’s not that Dustin wants his friends to out each other, but this is Steve. He always knows what's going on with Steve.
“You mean you don’t know how your girlfriend didn’t catch us when you had her spy on me?” Steve deadpans. Dustin sputters spectacularly for a moment as Steve smirks into his bag, finally locating the firestarter but not the damn lighter.
“No! She doesn’t- I don’t- Jane does that of her own volition!” Dustin is all of 20 years old and he’s almost shrieking at this point.
“So you admit it! You guys do spy on us!” Steve, all of 25 years old, points at Dustin and yells in triumph, giving up on the search through his bag. Dustin crosses his arms and glares at him.
“Sometimes. Rarely. It helps. When she’s anxious. It helps,” Dustin insists, and Steve swears he’s two seconds from stopping his feet. He huffs but nods in understanding.
“Yeah, whatever, play the trauma card,” he grumbles. Dustin rolls his eyes, reaches into his back pocket, and tosses Steve a lighter. Steve pauses for a moment, arching an eyebrow at Dustin.
“Christ Steve. No, I’m not smoking. You always forget yours,” Dustin says, snatching the firestarter from Steve and rearranging the firepit that Steve already set up.
“Just making sure you haven’t lost your mind while you’re busy changing the world at Princeton,” Steve teases.
“And I’m just making sure you haven’t lost your mind getting with Jonathan,” Dustin spits back. Steve remembers a similar conversation, six years and a lifetime ago, halfway in love with Nancy Wheeler at the end of the world.
“No, it’s not like that, I actually think I’ve found my mind, or something,” Steve says.
“What?” Dustin asks, incredulous.
“I don’t know, I think I lost the metaphor there a bit. But this is different, Dustin. Jonathan’s, I don’t know,” Steve trails off. Jonathan is deft fingers and sharp wit. He’s sharp edges and quick to anger, but quick to laughter by the same measure. He’s a bone deep, soul-sure presence.
“He’s just different,” Steve insists, dropping down to focus on actually starting the damn fire. They’re both quiet for a moment, Dustin carefully choosing his words again.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just want you to be happy, you know? I don’t want you to get hurt, or whatever,” Dustin says, finally falling into his camping chair and cracking open his beer.
Fire finally starting to flicker to life, Steve laughs softly and glances back at him.
“Wow, thanks Henderson.” Dustin rolls his eyes again and Steve bites back a they’ll get stuck like that, knowing it’ll just get him to do it again.
“I mean it,” Dustin says, serious this time. Steve looks at him. The sun is starting to set, casting everything in orange (Golden hour, Jonathan called it), and Dustin looks so serious, beer in hand and brow furrowed. He looks so old.
“Yeah man, I know,” Steve says softly. He sighs and deems the fire good enough to hold up on its own and finally takes his own seat and beer.
“I mean it, too, though. Things with Jonathan, they just feel right.” Like he found a part of his life, himself, that he didn’t know was missing. Everyone he loved was alive and he saw Robin and Nancy almost every month, and he got to sit here, with Dustin, and watch him thrive in college like he knew he would. But god, god, kissing Jonathan Byers? The sound of his laugh, the feel of his hand in his, it’s more than he even thought to ask for. It’s like being taken apart and put back together, in the best way possible, again and again.
“You really like him, then?” Dustin asks, and Steve realizes he’s been staring into space for a little too long. He wants to snark back at him, but he really, genuinely can’t help the grin that splits his face.
“Yeah,” he says, kinda lamely. He can tell Dustin really wants to laugh at him, but they’re having like, a moment or whatever.
“Alright. But if you divorce I hope you know you’ll be splitting the party in two.”
Or not. Steve just shakes his head and takes a sip of his beer.
D. HENDERSON
07/11/1987 02:28 HAWKINS, IN
Interviewer: M. Carter
Transcribed by: R. James
Interviewer’s notes: Good information here. Read report for full summary.
Transcriber’s notes: Throughout the entire interview, Henderson is crying pretty much on and off. This kid is more annoying than Sgt. Lee’s wake-up call. Sorry to whoever has to transcribe these. Oh wait, that’s me. Haha.
Page 4 out of 4
OPEN TRANSCRIPT:
INTERVIEWER: Can you describe with more detail what happened?
DUSTIN HENDERSON: I already told you, please–just, Steve Harrington, I know you have him, I need to–
Immediate post s5 canon, Steve and Dustin get taken in for questioning. They're pretty codependent about it.
so for the rest of my life, I'll pay my dues by iubilaeum
“I’m fine, I just fell, but I feel sort of… uh, like-“ he shakes out a tremor from his hand.
Robin nods slowly and takes another careful step forward. She gently moves her hand under his work vest to rest right over the logo of his polo shirt, right over his heart. A moment passes, and then she frowns and meets his gaze again with a look that bleeds concern.
“Your pulse is really high, Steve. How ‘bout you come sit down?”
OR
Steve falls off a ladder at work, and it hits him harder than he expects
turn the mics off by myalchemicalromance
Most of the time, it's Jonathan calling. She's gotten many pissed off texts from Max about nosy assholes. Nancy had long since asked Marsha Holland to hand off her email to anyone asking about Barb. The same for Wayne Munson. And just once she got a DM from Argyle about people poking around for info on the Byers.
But this time, it's Steve.
-
Or, another podcast channel has set its sights on Hawkins, Indiana and Nancy is tired.
Say You'll Remember Me by Jacketarearmpants
It's just dreams. Mike keeps telling himself. That's all it is.
However, one dream seems so real, maybe there's something more.
if things don't work out by some_pomegranate_tea
Steve can’t seem to make himself leave Max’s letter at home.
The envelope sits heavily in the front breast pocket of his bomber jacket—he had to fold it, across the middle, to fit, and now he can never quite get it to lie flat, even when he takes it out and smooths it down against the table.
He’s taken to wearing the bomber jacket everywhere, even though it probably makes him look like an idiot most of the time, and even though it could really use a good wash. It’s the only jacket he has that ensures the folded envelope stays flat. He doesn’t want to risk any more damage than he’s already done with the everyday wear of his fingers against Max’s scribbled Steve.
~~~
Steve deals with Max being gone, and with the letter she left him.
were you named in your father's will? by throttlegainwell
Hundreds of miles from Hawkins and almost finished with art school, Will has a strange encounter with his father.
Only Person Left Who Understands by Cookies_and_Chaos
For a few days, Kali had found someone else who could understand. Just a few days, then she was gone. Kali hadn't realised losing that bond with El would weigh quite so heavily.
I had to close my eyes to keep myself from washin' away
But it the dark backseat, I heard somethin'
It was you tellin' me,
"I got you back any day, my friend, my man"
He's unlike any other
I saw someone say willumax is great because Will can dump Lucas at the same time as Max in solidarity but I can’t help respectfully disagreeing. Willumax is great because Max dumps BOTH of them and then Will helps Lucas fumble around trying to win her back <3
Something about the fact that some of the only times Steve and Robin ever mentioned their parents, it was offhand comments about being too much (in Robin's case) and not enough (in Steve's case). Something about this affecting their self esteem deeply and being a big reason they find solace in each other and how they complete each other (when they talked about how they'd be better off if they could just combine into one person to balance out their personal 'deficiencies') Something about them teasing each other all the time but turning into the other's ultimate glazer attack dog anytime someone makes a jab at these particular insecurities. Something about stobin never beating the elite platonic soulmatism allegations ever
Werewolf!Steve who very much has the golden retriever vibes, but also very much has rabid guard dog vibes. even when he’s not shifted you can practically see his tail wagging when he’s with people he loves, but he is still absolutely bite first, ask questions later when strangers approach
now that Max is out of the depression pit and Mike is still there, I like to think that Max is constantly bothering Mike over the phone so he doesn't, like. kill himself
