Chapter Text
Jonathan pulls the handset to his ear. Steve must hear something or get impatient, because he continues on without preamble, "Hey, Jon? Are you with me?"
He has to take a second to catch his breath. Jonathan knows Will called Steve, but his mind couldn't be sure until he heard for himself. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Good," Steve's sigh of relief is audible over the receiver. It usually never got this bad, and usually it wasn't Will who was calling Steve in a panic; Jonathan could only be glad it was over now. "Okay, how are you?"
A humorless laugh punches out of him. "Whoever said 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' is an asshole."
Steve laughs with him and it was something he missed so badly that it almost sends Jonathan back into hysterics, "Oh, you're not fond of me, Byers?"
"You're alright."
The blatant lie could not be further from the truth.
California, even if Jonathan knew that he was going to be living here for an indefinite time, was difficult in new and terrible ways. In the ways he expected, like his senior year of highschool and adjusting to a new town. But, disregarding the new things he had to learn, the one thing Jonathan was sure of was the impending struggle of getting used to the distance from Steve.
They had lived in the same town all their lives, and even if they only met when Jonathan was in 4th grade, they shared a very long history. If someone told him that the boy who threw a basketball at his head (on accident, he knows, but he doesn't let that stop him from teasing Steve about it) would be his long distance boyfriend come the end of 1985… 9-year-old him might have a panic attack. Denial would most definitely be his first reaction given the absurdity of the idea, quickly followed by panic because it meant that Lonnie had been right about him. A queer.
Jonathan liked to think that he is better adjusted by now. However, that was evidently wrong, because not only is he longing for his boyfriend something furious, but he is having panic attacks in the middle of the night. He really hoped he didn't wake Will up in his clamor to get to the kitchen.
Steve hums over the phone. "Right… so. What happened?"
A sigh. "I was up late and one of the light bulbs in my room went out. The bulb was old, but it just…"
"Got to you?"
The familiar weariness in Steve's voice is why Jonathan even explained himself in the first place. Jonathan, his friends, and—regrettably—his family all understood the terror that came with faltering lights and a crash outside a window. Little things that set him off like he had trauma from war, and not a monster invading his living room. Jonathan could barely be in warm rooms without remembering the night they had to burn the Mind Flayer out of Will, and he knows Will hates to be cold for the same reason.
Normal people didn't have constant nightmares about losing everyone they love to a faceless monster and flower-like heads full of teeth. The Byers family has never been the norm, though. So Jonathan could excuse a few things… but the jumpiness was getting real annoying.
"Yeah." Jonathan rubs at his eyes like it would get rid of his exhaustion.
Over the phone, Jonathan hears Steve shifting like he went to lay on his back. Knowing that Steve is safe in bed in his room does a little to soothe him, even if it peters out into steely yearning; Jonathan never knew he could want to be in that house so damn bad. "So, Will was pretty quick to call me."
Ah. Right.
"I think it was because it was one of the numbers on the board we have. It has the Wheeler's and his other friend's numbers, too."
"Aw, and I'm your friend?"
Jonathan laughs, "That, and Mom likes you more than me."
"She does not!" Steve giggles, but he turns somber quickly. "Do you think he… knows? Will, I mean."
The ever-present question in the back of Jonathan's mind: Does Will know or suspect that Jonathan and Steve are dating?
It was terrifying in the way it is when you haven't come out to someone, but they seem to know you better than you think they do. But considering Jonathan suspected Will's attraction to Mike for years at this point, the only real terror was found in the how and when he was going to say anything about it, rather than a lack of acceptance. (Although, Jonathan supposes that is still a possibility; he doesn't know how much self-hatred Will carries in him and if he would project that onto Jonathan).
Keeping a secret of this magnitude and for this long (four years) was within Jonathan's right. He can allow himself that, at least, because of how dangerous it is in the first place. But… it's Will.
"I don't know." Jonathan sighs. "He's always been perceptive, but I don't know if he would ask me about something like this. It isn't like it's easy to bring it up in the first place, we both know that. It's why we haven't said anything to anyone other than Robin."
"Yeah…" Jonathan rests his head up against the wall as Steve trails off. He idly listens to Steve's breathing as his boyfriend gathers his next thoughts. "If you need someone to talk to, you could… I don't know. You think Argyle would be cool with it?"
Argyle, perhaps the most unbothered person he has ever met in his life, is certainly a candidate. He is just glad that Steve was enthusiastic that Jonathan actually made a friend in Lenora; every time he recounts an Argyle-story during a late night call, Steve always moans and groans about wanting to meet the guy. It was sweet, but he didn't know how Argyle could fit into this part of his life.
"Yeah maybe, but I wouldn't tell him before Will."
Steve hums and Jonathan imagines him nodding. "That's fair, but he is kind of like your Robin."
Jonathan manages a quiet chuckle, "Argyle is great, but he is no Robin."
"Yeah, I don't think anyone is." The dreamy quality to Steve's voice makes him roll his eyes.
"Did you forget she likes girls again, Steve?"
"Oh, shut up. Do you really think Will would be upset if you told Argyle?"
Jonathan takes one large breath out of his nose, considering for a moment. "No? Not really. Yeah, Robin and Nance already know, but he's my brother. It's… different."
"Yeah okay. I'm just saying, the only time I've seen your brother really angry was when Mike hid one of his game figures. But Mike is an asshole, and you're his older brother."
"I know, I know." Jonathan couldn't think about coming out to Will anymore; his mind was already shot from his panic attack, so he turns the topic onto the next best thing: "The only thing El can talk about recently is Mike flying in."
"Oh yeah? She's excited, I take it."
"Yeah. Will is… I don't know. I thought he would be more excited. Something happened with them, I think."
There's a small noise over the phone. "Really? Like—he's upset?"
"No, it's not that. Like… nervous? Maybe?" Jonathan shrugs. "A little shifty, but he talks to El about it whenever she wants, and Mom gets him to smile about it sometimes, too."
"Well, if we're right, then maybe he is just nervous."
If they were right, meaning, Will has a huge crush on Mike, and has for years. "I don't know. I guess I'll see when he gets in next week."
Silently, Jonathan wishes that Steve could also come up with Mike. He doesn't say it, but he should've known better that his silence and their lull in conversation would've read as a blaring sign for Steve:
"Jon, I'm sorry that I—"
"Don't be!" A breathless laugh falls from him with ease, even as his chest aches. "You're saving up to get out of your parents house, and I can't swing a flight back. It's okay, Steve."
They had talked about it ad nauseam since the very start of Mike's plan, wondering if Steve could also get to Lenora. Sure, Mike was coming because his girlfriend and best friend was here, but Steve was Jonathan's best friend as far as anyone was concerned.
But in the end, it came to several apologies when they realized that it wasn't possible this time around. Jonathan reassured Steve it was okay, but he couldn't help being jealous of Mike's flexible schedule.
"Ugh… summer definitely though. You need a break from being the best big brother ever and I need to not be around Keith for a week."
"Yeah." Jonathan wanted to adopt Steve's humor, but something scratches at the back of his head. "It's because they need me too, y'know, it isn't because—"
Thankfully, Steve stops him before he could get ahead of himself. "I know you're not avoiding me, Jon. And yeah they certainly rely on you, but…"
Steve's tone here was familiar. The one that said Jonathan took on too much and not enough breaks, "Hey, you said it. I'm their brother, I can't just…"
"You can, Jon." Jonathan sighs. "You're their brother. Not their Dad."
Jonathan drags his thumbnail across his eyebrow in an attempt to distract himself. It doesn't work. "I can't turn it off, Steve. What can I do for them if I'm not here for them?"
"Jesus, you sound like me."
Jonathan exaggerates a wince, "Fuck, I do."
"We're givers, baby. Robin says its an illness." Jonathan can hear the smile in Steve's voice, and he can let it go.
"Don't call me that."
"Yeah, yeah, but I'm being serious, Jon. We need some time to ourselves. I… I miss you."
"…Yeah?"
"I'm walking with one leg over here."
That was why it was so devastating that Steve couldn't come to Lenora for break or vice versa—Steve says shit like that and Jonathan can't kiss him for it.
"I miss you, too, Steve."
They breathe in that moment for a little while, Jonathan looking out the window of the kitchen to nearly get blinded by moonlight. He wonders if Steve sees the same thing.
"Oh, hey, how's your back?"
He scoffs. "You make me sound like an old man, Steve."
"Can you blame me? You got a metal stool chucked at it and you wake up groaning." Before Jonathan could properly retort, Steve makes a shifting noise over the phone and his tone changes, "Oh, fuck. Um, not to put a damper on this conversation, but I promised myself I would tell you the next time we called…"
A little panicked over whatever Steve sounds so concerned about, Jonathan quickly adds, "I think I already ruined that with my little brother calling you at 2AM—" realization dawns on him, "—wait, fuck, it's 5AM over there. Steve—"
"Don't worry about it, Jon." Steve sighs. The harried tone he uses lets Jonathan drop it, and he prepares to listen instead. "Listen, I think… I think my hearing is going."
Ironically, Jonathan doesn't know if he heard that correctly, "…What?"
"My, uh. My left ear. I've been having issues with it for a while, I think. But I never really paid attention to it. But now that Robin is on that side of me a lot, it was hard not to notice."
"Your concussions..."
"Yeah, all the blows I took to the head are finally catching up to me. Starcourt must've been the last straw."
Jonathan's doesn't know what to do with this. Whether he should ask if Steve has gotten his hearing checked out, or if this was just a recent thing; because, how the fuck did he not notice in the last two months he was in Hawkins after Starcourt? Sure, Steve could be spacey at times, they both were, but nothing that ever alluded to an actual hearing deficit.
Fuck, how did he not notice. "Are… are you okay?"
"I'm kind of just… working with it right now. I don't know, I think it would be smart to get checked out before my parents do something fun like take me off their insurance." Steve says it so casually that it makes him want to scream. "But, I don't know, it makes sense. Right? How I supposedly suck at paying attention when there was something wrong with me all along?"
"Steve." Jonathan says, quiet like he is afraid someone would overhear him. "There is nothing wrong with you. I mean, fuck, I'm sorry I didn't notice. That I'm not around to help you right now—"
"Hey if I'm not allowed a pity party, then you aren't allowed to make yourself sick over this." Steve's voice grabs his attention, and he can almost imagine steely eyes filled with a certain kind of devotion Jonathan's known for years. "I knew what was going to happen if I continued to get concussions."
"But it's not your fault that you got bludgeoned by Russians, Steve."
"And it's not your fault that neither of us were aware enough to know there was actually something wrong with my ear." Steve sighed. "If I was more sure, I would have totally told you sooner. But I think I was… in denial for a while there. That, and it must've gotten worse over time. There's no telling if it was bad enough for us to call attention to it when you were still in Hawkins."
"Okay." Jonathan uses his free hand to trace patterns on the kitchen tile. "Okay. If you're going to get your ear checked out, I want to hear everything about it, and I mean everything."
" 'Course, Jon. You won't miss a single detail."
"Fuck." Jonathan wheezes out a laugh that isn't exactly happy. "I miss you so much. I wish I was there, doing something—"
"Baby—"
"Steve."
"Jon." Steve laughs and Jonathan can muster a small smile. "I swear, it's okay. We will get to see each other in a couple months. Your mom still wants to come down this summer so El and Will can visit the rest of their Hawkins friends, right?"
"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Jonathan groans. "Doesn't mean I won't complain about it."
"Oh, well, yeah. If you think I'm not gonna whine about it too, then I don't know who you think you've been dating for four years."
Jonathan huffs a calming breath, "I love you."
"I love you too, Jon." Steve's voice is a little fragile, but Jonathan can't call him out for it without being a hypocrite. "Actually get some sleep tonight."
"Don't be late for work then."
"That was one time—"
"Goodbye, asshole."
"Goodbye, baby."
Before Jonathan could scold him for that again, there is a clunk of the handset being put on it's dock. The shit hung up on him.
Despite what Steve had said, Jonathan was definitely going to make himself sick over not noticing a major health difference in Steve for months. That wasn't the type of thing that just goes unnoticed, even if Steve said it was. He swears he is going to be making up for this for the rest of his life.
Starting with going to sleep, first.
Ambling back down the hallway after his limbs have been cramped on the floor for almost an hour was a little painful. But any real awareness he had of his body fades when he passes Will's door.
Before he can stop himself, he knocks on it. A moment later, Will gently opens it, and Jonathan is pleased to see that it doesn't look like he woke Will back up.
"Jonathan?"
He nods, "Hey, can I come in for a second?" Will, with searching eyes and a hesitant frown, lets him in. Jonathan sticks by the door while Will sits on his bed. "I'm sorry that you had to see that, I—"
"Does it happen a lot?" Will speaks like it was punched out of him. "The panic attacks?"
"Uh… no. Not as much anymore." Jonathan clears his throat. "It was late, and my lamp broke. Just set me off more than usual."
Will nods, understanding in a way Jonathan wishes he wasn't. "I'm sorry."
Jonathan shakes his head. "It isn't your fault, Will. It never was; and, besides, you helped me tonight. That was more than you ever had to do."
His brother scoffs. "Please. I just called Steve, he did the rest."
Jonathan lets himself step forward so he can knock his knuckles into Will's shoulder. "It meant something to me, okay? You know I would do the same for you in a heartbeat."
"Yeah." Will purses his lips, uncertain. "So, Steve helped? After I left, I mean…"
What Steve had said to him all those months ago sneaks up on him easily.
If you get the opportunity in California… you can tell him. About me, you, us, everything. I'm okay with it.
This was Jonathan's opportunity. It was staring at him in his face in the form of Will willing to hear him out, and he knew that it would be okay. What brings him out of it—a small thing, really—is Will's hand curling in his bedsheets. It's not a fist, but it looks like a measure to hold him back from something. From fidgeting, from picking at something—he didn't know. But Jonathan's resolve breaks upon seeing that stupid, dumb little motion.
Jonathan swallows down his dread as it threatens to choke him, "He's a great guy. My best friend." Will gives him a look. "After you, of course."
Will laughs, and Jonathan can breathe easily.