Stonathan ❤️

25

NOT MINE!!

All credits go to lavenderlow on ao3

Everything was happening, yet nothing was.

Steve Harrington never really thought he could relate to Jonathan in the way that he explained to him when they stayed up together. He always talked about how he felt like his emotions were at the boiling point- tipping over the line and expelling past his lips and into the open, which he never wanted to happen. He said he always felt worried, scared, paranoid, and Steve would have to sit back, hold him in his arms, and tell him it was okay. That he had him.

And now everything felt like it was happening so much more intensely. He felt worried. Scared. Paranoid. Uncomfortable, at the very least. It felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest every time he took a breath- it would break out of his ribcage and through his skin like a horror movie. His mouth felt dry and no matter how many sips of the cold coffee he took that was left over from this morning and exams, he still felt bad. He felt wrong.

Sitting in the parking lot of one of the only two gas stations in Hawkins, he stared at the payphone that stood under a streetlight next to the entrance- a spotlight. Steve's skin crawled- he didn't think that he would freak out this much, but now he is, and he doesn't want to tell Jonathan the news too soon, so he couldn't call him, and there was only one other option. Brushing himself off, he stepped out of his BMW and stood straight. The payphone locked with his gaze and beckoned him, but maybe that was just the cool, midnight in January breeze playing tricks on his mind.

He picked up the phone and dialed a number that used to be muscle memory. He held the phone between his ear and his shoulder, as he rested on the glass panes encasing the phone, breath shaking as he took a deep sigh when a voice answered the phone.

"Hello?" A voice sounds, deeper than expected, and Steve realizes that her little brother, Mike, must have answered the phone.

"Hey, Mike. It's Steve. Harrington. Can you put your sister on the phone for me?" He said, stuttering and swallowing loudly, his usual bravado tone non-existent.

Mike made a sound of agreeance and the line went silent for a minute. Thank god- he thought the twerp would go on and ask him why he's acting like this, because if anyone besides Jonathan knew Steve that well, it would be the kids. Dustin, his original awkward best friend who was in his freshman year, introduced him to all his friends, which ended up being the band of six kids that he "babysat" a lot of the time. Babysat his ass- more like parented.

"Steve?" A voice says, this time more comforting and softer, like the one he was originally expecting. "It's midnight. Why are you calling? What number even is this?"

"Nancy," he almost whimpers, like a helpless puppy. "Thank god you answered."

"What's wrong? What happened?" She asks, that caring voice ringing through his ears, like the one she used to use when they were together. That was over a year ago, now.

"They're sending me off tomorrow morning. This morning, at seven." Steve hated saying it. He had only figured out earlier that his parents enrolled him for some conversion camp in Montana behind his back. That he'd be leaving first thing that morning and be home for summer. What originally was a discussion at the dinner table turned into a screaming match between Steve and his father.

Because according to his father, no king could be a faggot. Steve "King" Harrington hasn't been king for a while now, then.

"W- I-," Nancy stuttered, sounding like she was breaking up over the line. Steve tensed at hearing her voice sound so pained- if this had happened a year ago, he would have cried at seeing her like that. Now, it was just a caring instinct that told him that he really was sorry. "What do you mean, send you away?" She chokes. Steve winces.