𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 steve harrington

xxvi. you know i'm never gonna

━︎ VOL THREE. CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

❝︎ i will not be another flower, picked
for my beauty and left to die. i will be
wild, difficult to find, and impossible
to forget. ❞︎

Steve,
Spring is hell. The air isn't too hot but it isn't too cold. And in Chicago, it feels like I'm constantly dealing with this epidemic. But hey, anything is better than Hawkins. How are Robin and the girl she likes? I know you mentioned It vaguely on the phone the other night about her babbling
On about some redhead. Reminds me of Lucas. How are the kids? I've been writing here and there with the Sinclairs, but Max hasn't responded to any of my letters. I'm worried, Lucas vaguely mentioned a break-up, and I think it's correlated with all of the Billy stuff. Dustin on the other hand has been filling my dorm with letters, so, so many. That kid never runs out of things to talk about. I'm so excited to see you it's all my mind runs on. After the fiasco of our anniversary, Christmas, and Thanksgiving, I'm glad I'll finally be seeing you after all this waiting. I've written songs for you, plenty. I can't wait for you to hear.

Love, Jack

Jack,

Robin's crush is definitely rooting for the same team (I'll explain when you get here.) but, Robin's in doubt because there can't be that many closeted gays and then she gave me the side-eye. The kids are doing good, still in their weird club with Munson. I can't wait for you to come back home.

Love, Steve

Jack scanned the crumpled letter, his eyes tracing over Steve's smudged handwriting. Atlas, the drummer of his band gave him an odd look from across their dorm. He ran a hand through his dark curls, arching his eyebrows at Jack.

"You alright, man?" He asked, leaning on his bed.

Jack nodded, his grasp of the paper becoming stronger, turning his knuckles white. "Yeah, just another shitty response from Steve."

Atlas rolled his eyes. "You need to dump his ass, man, or fuck it out. Whatever's best."

Jack hadn't meant to come out to his band, they just seemed to notice the hints and eventually confronted him after he spent an hour and a half talking about Steve's eyes. When their bassist, Jonah had cut Jack short, simply asking "Are you fucking him, or not?" Jack's face went pale, the energy draining from his face. But they accepted him with open arms, lecturing him on being safe due to the rising epidemic, and Jonah had even gotten Jack a small rainbow pin to adore onto his jacket.

"I can't" Jack shook his head, as their dorm room door opened. "He's, he's the only person I've ever loved."

Nora, who played the guitar alongside Jack, groaned as she slipped through the door. "This again? I thought we were over this topic."

"He's being dryer than a dessert again?" Jonah asked flopping onto Jack's bed. "It's that high school sweetheart spark, it's gone."

"We aren't sweethearts," Jack sighed, "Quite the opposite, actually."

Jonah tore the letter from Jack's hands, reading over the letter. "You guys have kids together?"

"No, you fucking idiot." Nora snorted, snatching the letter from her bandmate's hand. "Men can't procreate with each other, thank god you're not a bio major."