Stonathan ❤️

58

NOT MINE!!

all credits go to merryholidays on ao3

The phone rings in the hallway, it wakes Steve out of his sleep, he curses under his breath. He lets it ring, maybe they've got the wrong number.

Nope.

It rings again and from what he can hear, no one else is getting up to answer it.

He's annoyed and ready to tell off whoevers on the other end of the line already opening his mouth as he brings the phone to his ear but-

"Steve?"

It's Jonathan.

"Steve is that you?" His voice is shaky and hurried.

Steve was surprised, not because Jonathan was calling but because he was calling so late.

"Ye-Yeah, it's me, I'm here."

It's silent, "Do you think... Can you come over? Now." Jonathan swallows the lump in his throat.

"Now?" Steve looks around for a clock, he has no clue what time it is, and then it's like something hits him, "Are you ok?" He's alert now, his tiredness washed away.

"...No."

Steve's heart is practically beating out of his chest as he runs on the dirt path leading to the Byers home, with every step he quickens, maybe varsity wasn't such a bad thing after all. Finally the house is in his sights, it's dark but he can see the outline of who he hopes to be Jonathan on the porch steps, it's enough to push his weak legs a few extra steps.

"Jonathan?" He breathes out, swallowing air, his mouth is dry and his throat hurts because of it.

Jonathan looks up at Steve from his seat on the steps, he's holding a bag of frozen peas to the side of his face, and from little Steve could see in nothing but the moonlight, his knuckles were bleeding.

"Hey." Jonathan croaks out, he sounded so tired.

"Jonathan, man, what happened?" Steve sits next to him on the steps, his breathing is still heavy but he can't be bothered with that right now.

He blows harsh air from his nose, "What do you think?" He mumbles. Steve looks at the front door behind him and then at Jonathan.

"Your dad?" He's hesitant with the question, unsure if it would maybe set Jonathan off or something.

He nods, it's slow and he turns away from Steve slightly, he's embarrassed. Steve grabs Jonathan's hand that holds the peas, he pulls it down as slow as he can, he just wants to see.

His eye is swollen, just under the lid there's blood, a cut. Jonathan chokes out a sob and turns his head away from Steve who's silent. He stares at the back of Jonathan's head, he doesn't know what to say, was there anything to say? A knot builds in Steve's stomach, it's anger, it's pure rage, it's like he's not even in control of himself as he lets go of Jonathan's hands and stands up, turning for the door.

Now it's Jonathan who grabs him, "Steve, stop." He stands to get a better grip on his wrist, "Just-"

He's seeing red, "Just what Jonathan?! Look at your face man, you're all fucked up!" Jonathan notices Steve's lip quivering, he's shaking, "No, he doesn't just get to do that, do this!" Steve grabs the bag of peas with his free hand and shakes it for emphasis, "I'll kick his ass myself if I have to!"

"He's not home!" Jonathan yells back, "He left after... this." He points to the bag still in Steve's hand. Steve looks at the door again and then at Jonathan, his eyes soften as he takes a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Jon."

"I know... I know."

Steve's hand falls to his side as Jonathan finally lets it go, it's silent between the two. He reaches up and grabs Jonathan's shoulder, steadying him as he presses the bag of peas to his eye, Jonathan winces, his head jerks back and Steve tightens on his shoulder, "Hold still." Steve sniffles, it catches Jonathan off guard and when their eyes meet Steve has tears in his, "We gotta clean you up."

Jonathan swallows and nods before nudging his head in the direction of the door, Steve follows him in. The house is a mess and not in your normal sense. Furniture had been thrown about, a hole in the wall, broken glass and wood, it sent chills down Steve's back to even try and picture what had happened here. Jonathan walks into the bathroom, Steve stands in the doorway, he grabs disinfectant and cotton balls, band aids, anything he could find really. They settle down in Jonathan's room, Steve is always amazed by it, no matter how many times he's seen it, he wished his room looked like this.

Jonathan drops everything onto his bed and grabs for the bottle of peroxide.

"Let me do it." Steve kicks off his shoes and sits across from Jonathan on the edge of the bed. He wets the cotton ball and dabs it on Jonathan's cheek, he's flinching, making faces, sounds, Steve continues.

As he goes for a fresh cotton ball a tear escapes from his eye, he's quick to wipe it but Jonathan sees it.

"Steve-"

"It's not right." He cuts in, "You shouldn't deal with this shit... You... You don't deserve this."

He's cleaning Jonathan's knuckles, holding his hand to keep it in place. He's staring daggers at the hand and it makes him sick. He's wrapping bandages around Jonathans hand now, they haven't spoken a word in what feels like ages, even when he's done and now he's just holding Jonathans hand, his thumb running over the bandage, Steves fighting back his own tears again.

Jonathan pulls his hand from Steve's grasp, placing it on his shoulder and pulling Steve into him.

He's slow but Steve wraps his arms around Jonathan's back, his finger brushes soft circles on the denim of his jacket as he listens to the gentle sobs that Jonathan lets out. He wraps his arms tighter, wanting Jonathan to know he's there and it works, Jonathan calms down, they hold each other still.

"Stay here..." Jonathan manages to say through sniffles and broken breaths, "Jus-Just for tonight."

Steve nods against Jonathan's shoulder and he lets out a shaky sigh of relief.

-

Steve leaves the room so Jonathan can change, he'd come prepped for a sleepover in plaid pajama pants and a plain t-shirt.

Jonathan opens the door and walks back to his bed, getting under the covers. Steve walks over to the other side and does the same, their backs face each other and Steve stares at the wall in front of him. It angers him that he can't do anything to help, anything to protect Jonathan, he wishes he could show Lonnie what it's like, wants to make him feel how he makes his own family feel. Jonathan shifts slightly and Steve calms, in reality, there is something he can do.

He can be there for Jonathan, a helping hand, provide him comfort where he doesn't have it. He turns so he's looking at the back of Jonathan's head and wraps his arm around his waist, pulling them closer together.

Jonathan's hand rests on top of Steve's, his thumb brushing against it, for the first time tonight he feels relaxed.

"Thank you."

"Anytime, J." He whispers into his back as they drift off to sleep.