Stonathan ❤️

48

NOT MINE!!

all credits go to fearofsilence on ao3

"Holy shit."

As if Jonathan wasn't already wary enough walking into Miss Broussard's classroom after school. There sits Steve Harrington in the back corner by the window, clad in his leather jacket despite the fact that it's boiling. Jonathan wishes he could turn right around and walk out but-

He can't.

Because he has detention.

For the first time in his life, Jonathan Byers has to go to detention.

(For the most inane reason as well. Surely working on his portfolio is just as – if not more – important than French class. French isn't going to get him the scholarship he needs to go to NYU.)

Steve smirks as Jonathan trudges in and takes a seat at the front. To his chagrin, Steve takes the chance to move to the desk right behind him when Miss Broussard isn't looking.

"What the hell did you do to get detention, Byers?"

He's whispered it, but Miss Broussard's owl ears hear all. She looks up from grading papers, red-framed glasses perched low on the bridge of her nose, to scold him.

Wow. A minute in and Harrington's already been admonished twice. Jonathan thinks maybe he should keep a tally.

He begrudgingly gets to work on the French assignment he missed, all the while trying to ignore the finger jabbing at his shoulder blade. Steve, however, is relentless and refuses to leave him alone.

Jonathan supposes he can't blame him. Being in detention every day has to get awfully boring. You'd think one would learn to behave themselves, but...

"Come on, tell me!"

"Mr. Harrington, I'd be happy to give you detention for the rest of the week."

Jonathan can practically hear Steve's cocky smirk when he says, "Ooh, I love it when you talk dirty."

"With Mr. Lundgren," she adds. Jonathan winces; Lundgren's a notorious hardass.

Steve, of course, is unfazed. "Now, Miss Broussard, that's just unfair. I thought we had something here."

"Other than eternal disdain?"

Her exasperation is obvious. It's much the same way Jonathan feels at this point.

"You wound me, Miss Broussard."

"Do your homework, Harrington."

Jonathan is grateful for the temporary reprieve. But that only lasts about ten minutes before Miss Broussard gets up to use the bathroom, fixing Steve with a warning glare on her way out.

Steve starts in again as soon as she's gone. "So what'd you do?"

Jonathan sighs, defeated; he knows Steve won't give up until he gets what he wants. So, he answers, "I skipped class."

Steve gasps. "You?"

"Yes. Now leave me alone."

He doesn't.

"I had no idea you were such a bad boy, Byers. Who's been corrupting you before I've had my shot?"

Jonathan's cheeks flame. He's glad Steve can't see his face, or he'd never hear the end of it. Still, he hides behind the fall of his hair.

"No one's been corrupting me," he argues. "I had work to do in the darkroom."

Steve snorts. "Of course you did. You're always in that damned darkroom. Glorified closet, really. Though I suppose it's a good hiding spot to smoke, or... do other things."