12 Works by Lynnn_x
Listing Works
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“At the very least he’s nice to look at?”
“I guess,” Jonathan concedes, reluctantly, because he could actually give her that one. “But I expected he’d be at least baseline good to look at to get hired at all. You have standards.”
“Oh yeah? And how would you rate him then? To your standards?”
“Baseline good to look at.” Jonathan repeats, flatly. “Still sucks otherwise.”
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It was, just… just… well–
It was all because today was today. The 23rd–April 23rd, to be exact. Five full years to the day since Nancy Wheeler broke up with him.Or – Jonathan Byers stumbles into a bathroom, drunk, with the singular thought of: “Shit, I really want to text my ex.” Then Steve Harrington kicks down the door and says, with his entire chest: “Don’t fucking text your ex!”
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“When did you get so dull?”
“Pretty sure I’ve always been dull,” Jonathan responds with a shrug as he adjusts the bag on his shoulder.
Nancy wrinkles her nose.
“That’s not what I meant.”
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It’s 3:26 PM on a Wednesday when Steve Harrington has the dawning realization that Jonathan Byers is in love with him.
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> 11:35am: Does that even work?
> 11:36am: Does what even work??
> 11:38am: Heyyyyyyyyy.
> 11:38am: Heyyyyyyyyy yourself ;)
> 11:38am: Stop.
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“What happens after?”
It’s not a question Steve expects, especially at this moment, when he’s got his elbows planted on either side of Jonathan’s head, knee wedged up between Jonathan’s legs, body just barely hovering over the rest of Jonathan, as they both sink down into the fluffy comforter on top of Steve’s bed.
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“You have my shoes.”
That’s all Jonathan Byers says after Steve Harrington opens his back door and finds him standing there.
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“Soooo…” She draws the o out as she tilts her head and rests it on her hand, leaning over the bar counter. “You know Steve, then. Steve Harrington.”
Jonathan hesitates. He could lie. It might even be easy. A simple Steve? Steve, who? would probably be enough to dismiss the idea all together since there’s something about the question that makes Jonathan believe she’s suspicious about the connection in the first place. So he’s not exactly sure why that when he opens his mouth next what comes out is,
“I… I do, yeah.”
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They’re small. A mix of soft fluorescent green and blue and pink. Haphazardly placed without a rhyme or reason. Cluttered up in some places and sparse in others.
“When did those get put up there?”
“Huh?” Steve’s voice is slow, confused, like he’s right on the edge of falling asleep. “What are you talking about?”
Or – Jonathan notices plastic stars stuck to the ceiling of Steve’s room.
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When Steve suggested they take a week of winter break and spend it at his uncle’s cabin in Ohio because Nancy offhandedly mentioned she hadn’t been skiing in ages and really wanted to go again one day, he didn’t think that same suggestion would result in being trapped in the middle of a literal snowpocalypse with Jonathan Byers of all people.
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Jonathan Byers always reeks of cheap cigarettes and decisions he knows he should not be making.
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“It’s like oil and water but like with fire mixed in too, because I feel like whenever we try to be around each other it’s all bwahh–” Jonathan pantomimes a motion along with the sound. “Boom.”