Stonathan ❤️

124

NOT MINE!!

Jonathan really does have to go: Half the kids didn't bring their bikes because Barb and Nancy drove them over and it's supposed to start raining soon. They shouldn't even bother moving out of the foyer; they certainly shouldn't start stumbling backwards, towards the stairs.

Jonathan is still kissing like it's entirely alien to him, with his mouth shut tight and his arms shaking so hard that Steve can feel it; but he can only feel it because those arms are looped around his neck, and he didn't even have to put them there. That has to count for something.

Steve almost wants to pull back, to ask if he's okay. But Jonathan might clam up if he does that, get prickly and take it to mean Steve wants to stop; so instead, he rests a hand on Jonathan's hip and when it isn't met with a flinch, he leaves it there.

Jonathan's feet clear the bottom step―even without the added height, he's taller than Steve is used to―and Steve is just about to try shuffling him backwards, to see how far they can get up the stairs without having to stop, when there's a thunderclap and the unmistakable sound of pouring, driving rain against the roof.

Steve is tempted to keep going, to say wait it out here.

But Jonathan pulls back―jumps back, almost, so that he stumbles and has to catch himself on the railing. He's red-cheeked and blinking rapidly, as if he's readjusting the light. Beyond that, his face doesn't really give Steve anything to work with―his mouth is set in a thin, flat line, not exactly smiilng or grimacing. He seems incapable of holding eye contact, though Steve is used to that by now.

After a few seconds, Jonathan clears his throat and says, "I should go."

Maybe the storm is a sign from God: He kissed you. Don't push your luck. Although, from what Steve knows about God (which is hardly anything), it doesn't seem like he's in the business of helping you out once you finally make a move on another guy.

Steve nods. "I guess you should. Can't let the little shits walk home in this―if Henderson gets sick it'll mess with his crypto-cranial thing."

"Dustin's probably not leaving. Not unless we force him to." Jonathan hops off the stairs. Steve steps aside, letting him pass; he'd like to reach out, try to catch Jonathan's hand while he's still close enough. Do something cutesy like pull him back in for another quick kiss or just plant one on the top of his head, since he guesses he's allowed to do that now. But Jonathan's already got one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding his keys. "I guess I won't let Max and Lucas get struck by lightning, though."

"What about Mike?"

Steve's had to hear all about Mike's continued antics from Will and Dustin: He doesn't talk to anybody, doesn't hang out with anybody. He's obsessed with swapping spit with El at every opportunity. Steve tries to be a voice of reason, partly owing to the boys' habit of directly quoting him to each other to prove a point; but it really does seem normal that Mike would be glued to his girlfriend now, in the aftermath of Starcourt. Of Hopper.

Of course, he's always met with an argument: It's been like this since last year. He ditched Dustin on his first day home from camp, a sore spot that's been revisited both thoroughly and often. He never wants to play DND anymore. Eventually, Steve will concede that it's lame or bogus of him―both things that have already been carried back to Mike in prior arguments, to be thrown back at Steve a few weeks later during Risk or Monopoly once they've all made up.

He's sure Jonathan has heard similar; maybe more, since El is living with them now. Mostly, it's something to talk about. Something to keep Jonathan here a little bit longer, before today inevitably falls off the constantly-dwindling calendar of days until he moves across the country.