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You grumbled softly as your entire body moved. Your eyes were closed, but you felt yourself being picked up as an arm went behind your back and another under your legs. Your stomach hurt and your head was spinning, the sour taste of jello shots still faintly on your tongue as you heard a car door shut.
“Almost there, Y/N,” the person holding you said, and though you couldn’t place it, you recognized the voice. You lolled your head onto their chest and let them carry you as you reached up and gripped their shoulder, needing to hold something stable with all the movement.
You heard the person’s feet go from crunching on dirt to stepping soundly on wood, and a moment later a creek of a door. You heard the person fumble a little as they struggled to then close said door, but soon enough you were moving again, though not for long before you apparently hit another door, signaled with another creek.
They left the door open this time and you decided to try to open your eyes as you felt yourself being lowered onto a soft surface, presumably a bed. You squinted open your eyes, struggling to see through the drunken blur and darkness of the room. The person began to tug off your shoes and socks and you blinked harder before making out a familiar flop of hair. “Steve?”
“Hey, how’re you feeling?” Steve asked as he looked at you with concern. Your brows knit together as another wave of pain whirled through your head and you whimpered. You looked down at his beige sweater where a large, bright green stain resided that made your stomach twinge unpleasantly and the alcohol threatened to come back up.
“Did I do that?” you asked, guilt washing over you before you even heard the answer.
“What, this? Nah, it’s from the new winter line at GAP- the Girlfriends Who Can’t Pace Themselves Collection,” Steve joked. You would’ve flipped him off if you didn’t feel so weak and out of it. You couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had at Tina’s party, but judging by how shitty you felt and how much puke was on Steve’s shirt, you were sure it had been a lot. You hadn’t meant to, but it was the last party of senior year and you couldn’t help it if everyone wanted to “cheers” you with a shot every ten minutes.
Being a Byers meant that you weren’t exactly popular- but once you’d become friends with Steve (after he’d helped you, Nancy, and Jonathan fight the first Demogorgon in your house), people started acting different at school. Then you two started dating at the beginning of senior year and everyone acted like they hadn’t judged you and your family for years.
After a while, things had settled and you’d made a few more friends, but most of the time you and Steve just hung out with Jonathan and Nancy at school. Afterwards you two would either spend time alone together or hang out with the Party and play D&D. Tonight, however, had been the last time you’d really have a reason to spend time with anyone from Hawkins High School, and everyone seemed to be on the same wave length, which happened to be Extra Friendly.
“I’m sorry,” you finally managed. Steve raked a hand through his hair.
“It’s fine, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m going to go see if I can borrow a shirt from Jonathan. You going to be okay if I leave for a minute?” Steve asked after a beat.
“Oh, my god, Stevie. I’m drunk, not dying,” you said and let your eyes slide shut again as you heard his footsteps retreat out of the room. You didn’t know if you’d fallen asleep, but you didn’t hear Steve return until there was a soft knock on your bedside table. You looked over to see a glass of water and Steve kicking off his shoes. He then turned to your closet and pulled a t-shirt off a hangar before turning back to you.
“Now to deal with your mess,” he said quietly and made his way to the bed. “C’mon,” he began as he grabbed your wrist lightly and guided you into a sitting position. “Let’s get that shirt off you,” he continued and tugged at the hem of your shirt. You immediately obliged, peeling the fabric from your skin and tossing it before unhooking your bra and throwing it as well out of reflex. You looked up at Steve to see him blush and quickly advert his gaze, causing you to laugh.
“Dude, you’ve seen me naked how many times now?” you asked, amused as you leaned forward to take the fresh shirt from his hand, but not before tracing your fingers lightly up and down his forearm.
“This is the first time we’re not both sober, though,” he retorted. “Or not both drunk…or stoned,” he added, and you giggled as you shrugged on the shirt. Steve really was a great guy. Even if he used to be the biggest asshole- like when he broke your brother’s camera, no one could deny that he’d changed a lot over the past few months.
You unbuttoned your pants and slid them off as well before Steve pulled back the blanket and draped it over you. You smiled warmly up at him.
“You’re too good to me,” you said as he brushed your hair back and stroked your cheek softly with his thumb. Steve scoffed and pulled back.
You made a noise in protest, but he simply rounded the bed and jumped in on the other side, sidling up beside you and wrapping an arm around your waist.
“You literally spent months helping me write my admissions letters to colleges. And studied with my dumbass all year. You’re too damn good to me, Y/N,” he said and kissed your neck softly. You leaned into his touch as he pulled you closer and continued to plant kisses along your jaw and back down your neck.
“I love you, dumbass,” you said, fatigue and alcohol dragging you deeper into your mattress and the warmth of Steve lulling you to sleep.
“I love you, too, smartass.”