Stonathan ❤️

105

NOT MINE!!

all credits go to dustyirish on ao3

Pink, it was love at first sight
yeah, pink when I turn out the light
and pink gets me high as a kite
And I think everything is going to be alright
no matter what we do tonight.

~ Aerosmith

Joyce opened the front door and came inside to the sound of Jonathan's soft laughter. She just paused there a moment, smiling. It was such a good sound, such a missed sound, and it was all due to Steve Harrington's car parked in the yard. They had been together six months at that point. Joyce knew all of the problems it was bound to cause for the future, the whispered talk that was already circulating through Hawkins. And she couldn't care less. Jonathan laughing trumped everything.

She walked down the hallway to his bedroom, peering in at the two teens from the open doorway.

Steve was sprawled on the bed with his head in Jonathan's lap, holding a fluffy yellow baby dress in the air and grinning. Jonathan had one hand tangled in Steve's hair - the other was clutching a tiny sailor-themed onesie.

Joyce blinked. "Okay, so I know I almost flunked biology, but ..."

They both looked over and smiled. Then, as her words registered, Jonathan turned beet red, dropped the outfit and sputtered "God, Mom!" Steve just snickered.

She came in and sat on the bed, nudging Steve over with an elbow. She sensed that something was different and then realized that this was the first time Jonathan hadn't freaked out and jumped away from Steve at her approach. His head stayed pillowed in Jonathan's lap. Jonathan had removed his hand from Steve's mess of hair, but it hadn't strayed far, just to his shoulder.

Joyce wanted to laugh in delight, but contained herself, glancing around the room instead. She noted an additional pile of baby clothes spread out on the mattress behind them. "Care to clue me in here?"

Jonathan sighed. "They're having a clothing drive at school. For charity. Somehow we got stuck with this," he grumbled, gesturing at the pile.

Steve didn't seem nearly as displeased. He'd plucked out a soft pink sleeper and was gazing at it thoughtfully. "Look at this one, babe," he murmured, almost under his breath, to Jonathan. "Look at the little butterflies." Jonathan gave it an obligatory glance and went right back to what he was doing, but Steve held on.

He liked to pass himself off as brash and cocky, the life of the party. But for a few seconds, his thumb brushing over the tiny foot of the pajamas, that Steve disappeared completely. His eyes were soft, a small smile playing over his lips. In that moment, Joyce knew exactly how her son had fallen in love.

Jonathan picked up a cardboard box from the floor and started folding clothes into it. Steve snatched it away. "What are you doing? They need to be washed first." Jonathan shot him a disbelieving look.

Joyce nodded. "Steve's right." She saw his smug expression and added "For once."

Jonathan sighed again.

"Hey," she said, "Don't you have to work tonight, honey?"

He looked at her, startled. "What time is it?"

"Almost four."

Jonathan quickly untangled himself from Steve, asking "Can you wash them?" on his way out the door to the bathroom.

"Yeah ... wait. No. I've got the damn family dinner thing!" he called after Jonathan, then put his hands over his face and groaned.

"You don't sound too happy about it," Joyce offered.