Archive of Our Own

They both dressed… differently. Jonathan wore what he’d wear to school: simple but clean tan shirt half-tucked into the front of his jeans, with a large black, gray, and red flannel hanging over him. It was a new one though; Steve had never seen Jonathan in red before. When his headlights found him on the berm, Steve almost didn’t think it was him. He couldn’t hide his smile.

Steve wore his best rugby shirt– the white and navy blue striped one that he knew was Jonathan’s favorite– tucked into his best jeans. He cuffed both his sleeves and pant hems up, exposing the best of his forearms– and a little ankle. It said what he wanted to say. Which was… really not something Steve actually said until dinner was over and they were sitting in his car deciding if their evening was over already.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I don’t know… Wherever you want to, Steve.”

“I… I was just going to go home.”

“Yeah… that sounds fine.”

“Do you… want to come back home with me?”

“… Yeah. I do.”

Steve let Jonathan change the radio station and fiddle around in his glove compartment with his CDs. He didn’t want to say anything to ruin the best thing to come out of his entire summer; the chance to laugh and stumble and smile and be stupid and just be with his best friend. His parents had been gone for an entire month– and would be for another two weeks– and Steve needed some new voices echoing around the hallways. He would not mind if it was Jonathan’s. Or if it wasn’t an echo, but actually a stay until morning.

They loitered in the driveway despite their solitude. Jonathan held Steve’s hand, reaching for his other one to place on Jonathan’s leg– to pull him closer over the console and break the barrier they’d had to keep up all night across the dinner table. Steve didn’t want to leave the car; didn’t want to break the tether he was quickly tying to himself, and then around Jonathan as he wrapped his hand in his shirt.

Jonathan pulled back when it was obvious the car would be the worst place to be– worst place to get caught– carrying out their evening plans.

Walking in the door, Steve heard quiet clattering in the kitchen. Someone was home. He reached over Jonathan and grabbed his arm, pushing him behind him. Jonathan placed a hand on his shoulder, quietly asking what was wrong.

“Mom? Dad?” Steve asked the silence– and answered Jonathan. “Are you guys home already?” There weren’t any cars in the driveway. Where had they been– had they seen them?

“Is that Steve?” One voice asked. It was higher pitched than Steve expected– and there was more than one that answered. It was a group– a whole party…

“Dustin?” Steve called, walking forward again. Jonathan followed close behind.

“Steve! Hey Steve! Where do you keep your snacks?”

Upon rounding the corner, Steve found Dustin sitting on his counter, legs dangling and gently kicking the cabinets. Steve also found Lucas, Max, Mike, El, and Will all crowded around the breakfast bar. Every cabinet was open– and El was standing in front of the open freezer, digging around.

“I-In the pantry.” Steve tried to answer without trembling. His hand relaxed on Jonathan’s arm, slapping against his leg. “Dustin I gave you that spare key for emergencies.”

“We were hungry.” Dustin scoffed. “We’re America’s growing youth we need food, Steve.”

“It’s eleven at night, Dustin.” Steve said. “I didn’t expect to come home to a gaggle of raccoons raiding my kitchen.”

“What were you doing out tonight?”

“And why are you with my brother?” Will seemed the only one to lock onto the key elephant parading into the room. “Hey Jonathan.”

“H-Hey, buddy. What are you doing out so late?”

“I was sleeping over at Mike’s–”

“–And we got a call from Lucas about Dustin’s plan to get some snacks. So now we’re here.” Mike said, leaning his elbows on the counter and looking at them evenly.

“Does mom know you’re sleeping over at Mike’s?” Jonathan unconvincingly played the Hard Cop, enforcing Will’s curfew.

“She dropped me off.” Will laughed, furrowing his eyebrows. “D-Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, I’m just–”

“Does she not know you’re out?” Mike was trying to instigate, but he wasn’t wrong. Joyce didn’t know Jonathan was out– because he wasn’t. Not like that at least. “Ooooo Jonathan’s gonna be in trouble.”

Steve finally regained control of himself, his heart rate settling. “You guys broke into my house.”

“We have a key, Steven.” Dustin said, dangling it from his fingers. “It’s not illegal if you willingly gave me a key. That’s consent and acknowledgement of risk.”

Steve paused. “Did you guys look into this before you came over?”

“We may have asked El’s dad.”

“The Chief?!” Steve knew he couldn’t argue with a man with a badge about the law advice he gave (most likely unknowingly) that now had him and Jonathan standing frozen and awkward in Steve’s kitchen. “You bothered the Chief of Police because you wanted my snacks?”

“You always have the good Doritos.” Max said, pulling open another cabinet. “Which we haven’t found– where is your food?”

“In the pantry.” Steve said again, beginning to turn away and slowly navigate Jonathan back out the front door to drive him home. But something in Jonathan’s face stopped him, and not just in the usual way.

His face was tense, eyebrows knitted together and lips rolled together. Jonathan’s body was closed off– his arms crossed and feet standing parallel and close together. He was uncomfortable with the sudden gaggle of eyes seeing Jonathan with Steve– knowing without knowing. Having knowledge that would dawn on them days, weeks, years later with a slow, drawn out ooooooh… Jonathan wished they hadn’t come inside, hadn’t left the close, fumbling quarters of Steve’s car. But Jonathan also didn’t want to leave, not right away.

Even with his own signature and unreadable pursed expression, Jonathan was right. They couldn’t just leave– the house or leave those kids alone. They wouldn’t have come for Steve’s house just for snacks. Steve knew hopeful, quiet desperation when he saw it. He knew what it was like to gently beg for friendship, from someone older to help and listen to him when he was nervous and about to start high school. Steve also knew what it was like to not get that help and be fed to the machine of perpetual expectations.

“Come on, let’s get you guys something to snack on.” Steve clapped his hands and started away from Jonathan and into the kitchen. “Jonathan get some bowls down from the cabinet, will you?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.” It was without any hesitation– or notice on the Party’s part– that Jonathan knew exactly where the plastic snack bowls were. Steve tried not to feel too inflated by the fact his house layout held some small place in Jonathan’s constantly working mind. He had a place– maybe in his heart too?

Jonathan kept track of the kids’ shouted orders as Steve walked around to the hall pantry. He tucked as many bags of chips, pretzels, pop tarts, cheese puffs, and cereal as he could under his arms before returning. Jonathan had already placed bowls out in front of each kid, his hands free to start taking some of the snacks from Steve.

Thank God you’re here Steve wanted to say. But how would that sound– what would that prompt?

Why WAS Jonathan there? It was nearly midnight on a Saturday night in the peak of summer. Sure, Steve and Jonathan hung out all the time after work, but that was in the daytime. That was out in the shame-stripping sunlight. When every concerned citizen fretting about Family Values could see that they were just two normal teenagers going to get ice cream, or walking innocuous laps around the mall definitely not brushing shoulders or hands.

This was the folded-in secret hours of evening, when everything and nothing happened. The impossible could unfold without a single witness to stop it– which Steve had experienced the fall previous– or it could be a moment seemingly omitted from time itself and simply for him (and Jonathan). This was something more than hanging out after work and it was very obvious if any of the kids knew where and how to look.

“What were you guys doing hanging out?” Dustin asked, seeing through Steve’s avoidance accidentally. He crunched down on his pretzel stick as he smiled.

They were children. They couldn’t be malicious.

“We just got something to eat.” Steve continued to pour pretzels into the row of bowls on the counter. “Got really hungry in the middle of my shift and… wanted to try that new restaurant downtown.”

“How was it?” Max asked, reaching over Lucas to stick her hand in the Doritos bag.

“Uh, fine.” Steve shrugged. “Just Italian food.”

“Oh, did you go to Mrs. Byers’s friend’s place?” El asked, flopping a pop tart out of its packaging.

“My mom–” Jonathan started. The mention of his mother pitched his voice, his face straining to maintain even.

“No, no,” Mike started, shaking his head and struggling to swallow his mouthful of frosted flakes. “The place is just called Enzo’s, El. It’s not her friend.”

“Oh.”

“Isn’t Enzo’s kind of fancy for you, Steve?” Dustin asked, lifting his eyebrows. “Especially dressed like that.”

“Hey!” Steve fiddled with his collar quickly. “I look good, okay. I worked hard on his hair.”

“You did?” Lucas teased.

“You did?” Jonathan echoed, his voice getting lost in the laughter of the kids.

Steve turned and met his eyes, could hear the embarrassing realization dawn on Jonathan. He fought his grin and set his jaw, gently pressing his tongue under his top teeth. “Yeah.” He said, without any subtly or charm. “Four tries.”

Jonathan snorted, still gentle and loving. “It looks the same, Steve.”

“Oh okay, Byers, that’s it–”

“What’s it?” Mike asked, still keen to raise Steve’s blood pressure.

“Nothing.”

“Noooo,” El said, pointing at Steve. She was looking at Dustin for encouragement. Which he gladly gave. “what is it.”

Oh okay, Byers, that’s it, you’re going home alone.

“Nothing. It’s a really long story–” Steve waved it away with a ridiculing eyeroll. “I’d rather hear about you guys. What’s up, dorks? Why did you break into my house?” Steve leaned against the refrigerator, crossing his arms and ankles. They all crunched quietly. “Come on, what is it?”

As Dustin began answering– loneliness in the swampy evening hours of summer when they were with each other but they were scared of the other time that was still slipping them by– Will was staring at Jonathan. His face was still and he was blinking slow. Jonathan had no idea.

He was too busy looking at Steve.

“Steve,” Will said suddenly. His eyebrows were furrowed and his neck was tense. “did you go on a date with my brother?”

“What?”

“Excuse me?”

“A date?”

“Will, what the hell I was talking– wait, huh?”

“My mom and Hopper went to Enzo’s the other week.” Will sounded upset almost. Lied to. Exposed to something he wasn’t prepared for.

“It’s just a restaurant, Will.” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “Steve was bitching all day about how hungry he was–”

“And I got tipped a bunch at Scoops so I figured why not actually eat some real food?” Steve shrugged. “And also I love a good bread stick, ya know?”

The party had little to offer in wake of his question.

“Steve, are you dating Will’s brother.”

“I just said I wasn’t.” Steve sighed. “Do you people listen? Like at all?”

No one was speaking but somehow the room was deafening. Blood was pounding in Steve’s ears and he could feel both numbness and all the feeling in his body settle into his feet. He somehow thought he was asleep, completely dreaming this horror scenario.

Steve wasn’t ready to admit to using the word date with Jonathan. He wanted to, oh he wanted to, but they hadn’t agreed on it. Hadn’t decided if they were dating, seeing each other, hanging out, or just fooling around. They didn’t know how they were going to lie to each other about what was really happening– which was genuine love.

Which was not going to be uttered in front of a gaggle of snack-stuffed children in the middle of the night, in a cavernous empty house.

“Can’t two guys go to dinner?” Jonathan scoffed, taking a bag of pretzels from the table. His crunch was the equivalent of a voice crack.

Dustin shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. Just seems weird, you’re out late.”

“You got a job, Dustin?” Steve asked, quirking his eyebrow. It was the only thing he thought could move on his entire body.

“Okay, okay, fine. I get it. You work so hard.” Dustin waved Steve down before offering him a snack. “Take us next time with the tip money, huh?”

"I’ll take it under consideration.” Steve said with a laugh, taking a chip.

Jonathan met his eyes across the room, smiling with an twist of pride turning the corners down in a tight line. They both could feel Will’s eyes going between them, but the room resumed it’s cacophony of noise and they didn’t care.

It was almost out. They were almost out. And the world didn’t implode, barely even changed. Steve thought he would feel all the air leave his chest, like the great inhale from a fire as it explodes. But it was barely the spark of a match. Even if it had been the moment, and Steve had confessed, he had the feeling nothing would have changed.

Well, nothing else would’ve changed. He still had to go grocery shopping again. Maybe, if he was charming enough, he could get some company for the trip. Extra set of arms– hands– perhaps…