Stonathan ❤️

117

NOT MINE!!

all credits go to Kid!_666 on ao3

A/N: This story has 9 chapters so the next 9 chapters of this book will be abt this

"If you could see one person one more time before the big bad Ruskies obliterate us," Robin giggles, "who would it be?"

Her head lolls back against Steve's shoulder. She's probably already forgotten what she asked him, is already sort of humming to herself and tapping her feet; but Steve has been feeling so wonderfully unabashedly honest for these last few minutes or months or however long they've been here, tied together in their Scoops uniforms and possibly dying from beating-induced brain hemorrhages or Russian poison that he says, without hesitating, "Jonathan Byers. And I'd give him a big ole kiss."

He does have enough inhibition left that he wants, just a little bit, to take it back; but Robin only dissolves into laughter again, which sets him laughing too. Then she's telling him that she'd like to see Annie Lennox because she's just so fucking hot and even through his haze, Steve thinks that they understand each other.

―

Steve isn't sure that he and Robin are ever going to discuss the truth serum night again.

The rest of it passed in a blur of Henderson with a cattle prod and Nancy with a gun and a monster nearly killing them all, culminating in six of the ten of them being officially pronounced concussed by an overworked nurse who'd been told that all of them had been trapped in the mall during what was variously being referred to as "the explosion," "the earthquake," and simply "the incident."

Steve's parents breeze by long enough to ensure that they aren't being sued and that it wouldn't be profitable for them to sue anyone. He allows himself to be inspected and fussed over for a few weeks until they've reassured themselves that he isn't going to die in his sleep and move on to phase two, the Isn't It Time To Look For Other Work? Phase, at which point he decides that at least a brain bleed alone, in his sleep, would be a peaceful way to go.

The first thing that he does when they've finally left is call Robin. The second thing he does is ask her out to dinner.

He tacks on a quick, "I'm not coming on to you, by the way. I have..." At this point he pauses, considering: Truth serum induced knowledge of your proclivities? An understanding that I am not Annie Lennox? A taboo romantic preoccupation of my own? He settles for, "I have a good memory."

He can almost hear her nodding over the phone line, slow and deliberate, mulling over her reply.

"I have a good memory, too."

―

They drive out of their way to a McDonald's outside the city limits, where they fold themselves into a corner booth and try not to be conspicuous as those kids from the mall disaster . Their pictures have been on the news for weeks, the grainy black-and-white ones from their Scoops ID badges along with high school yearbook photos and some candid shots of Robin with her clarinet, Steve with a basketball.

"We look very all-American teen," Robin had said. She'd called him for a viewing party of the first broadcast.

"Truth in television, baby," Steve had replied just as Jonathan and Will flashed across the screen, the anchor droning about two brothers once again caught in the crossfire of a tragedy . He clicked the TV off.

Robin drags a fry through ketchup with what Steve would consider unnecessary force, avoiding his eyes. "Did you see the for sale sign?"

"They're already selling the lot from the mall? Isn't it, like, irradiated now?"