Work Text:
Pinkie Promises
It starts when they are young. Neither is sure who started it, only that it becomes a habit. If one of them is nervous, or sad, in trouble the other will reach down and hook their pinkies together. It is a silent reminder to one another that they are there and a promise to keep being there.
They never grow out of it, even in high school they still clasp pinkies sometimes without a reason just to feel the weight of the other’s finger wrapped around their own. It is a habit to seek that comfort from one another even as they start dating girls but they learn to be stealthier about it, hiding their clasped fingers out of sight after too many juvenile comments from classmates.
It is something they keep doing until the fight, until that November afternoon where everything goes wrong. Steve does not even realize how much he needs it, needs Tommy, missing him by his side, in his space until he is not there anymore. All because they had a stupid fight, their worst fight. They have had plenty of fights over the years but none of them have ever lasted this long, all of their previous rows evaporating within a weekend but not this time, this time months have passed, a separation between them that Steve feels weighing on him.
Steve tries not to think about it, tries to use anger to block out the pain, it does not work because he is not even angry at Tommy anymore and he just does not know how to fix it. So when he is alone, when no one can see him he tries to pretend, hooks his own pinkies together and imagines Tommy is there with him, that it is his pinkie wrapped around Steve’s. It is not the same, it always just leaves him feeling sadder, lonelier than before.
Going to Tina’s party and trying to pretend everything is normal, turns out to be one of Steve’s worst ideas, it just leads to anguish and heart ache.
He is outside in the cold, Tina’s party blaring loudly through the structure bleeding into the night as Steve tries to pull himself together. He has his arm curled around his own stomach seeking some sort of comfort as he tries to keep the tears from falling as Nancy’s words rattle around in his head mocking him. “Like we’re in love. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.” It is not working, his eyes only sting worse.
Steve gives up on standing as the first tear slides down his cheek warm against the chill air as he sinks down, back against the siding of the house as he settles onto the grass. He tries valiantly to keep the rest from falling, content to let his vision go blurry rather than having someone catch him outright crying and no doubt telling the whole party.
Steve startles a little at the sound of footsteps crunching dry grass moving around the corner of the house and stopping briefly and Steve knows it is because he has been spotted. Steve scrubs at his eyes, the fabric of his jacket staining dark but that is better than the alternative vulnerability when you have fallen from grace in a small town with someone looking to be the new King.
Steve drags his eyes up from his own knees to see who is bearing witness to his final fall, they do not have to travel far he knows those shoes, the little S.H + T.H chunkily scribbled over C.P +T.H. a dead giveaway. It is Steve’s handy work from the last time Tommy and Carol broke up when Steve and he were still talking, one of many breakups that never lasted very long, the two of them always seeming to fall back together, one another’s safety nets.
Steve briefly wonders where Carol is now, he has not seen her around Tommy lately, has barely seen her in the halls at school, wonders what she has found to occupy her time, who she has found to keep her company. This is the longest length of time since they got together that they have not started dating again. It was them getting back together last time that made Steve finally get serious with someone, get serious with Nancy, who was different from most of the girls he had previously dated, more serious, not looking for just a good time, looking for more and Steve, Steve thought he could be that more. Steve honestly thought she might be the one, thought she could be the last one, the one that he ends up settling down with, she is certainly the only girl he has ever loved and he thought he finally had something good, something he was allowed to have until she shattered his heart less than an hour ago.
Steve is expecting more jeering, a continuation of their encounter a few hours ago when they ran into one another during the height of the party. Maybe a few jabs about the rumors surely flying around the party by now after Nancy went home with Byers. They have not gotten past the hostility since that fight last November.
Tommy does not say anything as he moves closer and for a brief second Steve thinks he is going to walk past him, ignore his existence all together, leave him to his wallowing and that hurts so much more than anything else. Tommy does not do that though, instead he startles Steve again when he flops down onto the cold ground next to him, settling close, their thighs touching.
Steve chews his lip as those tears well back up and once again he struggles to keep them from falling, eyes brimming with them as Tommy remains quiet, the only noise coming from him is a huff of air, visible on the chilly air. Tommy shuffles around digging in his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He brings the pack up to his mouth, catching two between his lips and lights them both before passing one to Steve.
He has not really smoked since before their fight, since he started dating Nancy who did not like it when he did. It feels familiar between his fingers as familiar as Tommy next to him and he takes a shaky pull of nicotine into his lungs before letting his hand holding it drop away to rest on his knee.
Steve’s other hand is pulling at a fray in his jeans, from a worn hole no one has nagged him about when Tommy’s free hand settles close pinkie brushing against Steve’s. He takes another shaky pull of breath, eyes flicking over to Tommy who is staring out into the dark woods, not looking at him, waiting. Steve brushes back with his own pinkie and cannot help smiling despite his teary eyes as Tommy’s pinkie wraps around his holding tight, a familiar squeeze he has missed dearly.
That is what breaks the damn, has the tears falling freely warm in the cool air and he thinks he might be sobbing as he presses his face against Tommy’s shoulder. Hiding from the rest of the world in the only place he has ever felt safe. Feeling comforted as Tommy’s head rests against his, the scent of nicotine heavy in the air as Tommy keeps smoking, keeping watch, Steve knows he will not let anyone get too near.
It takes a while for Steve to compose himself, he is not sure how long it takes but his ass and fingers are both numb, a headache heavy behind his aching eyes. Steve is vaguely aware of Tommy shouting at some drunks to fuck off, shielding him just like old times. Steve is snuffling against Tommy’s damp shoulder when Tommy gives his pinkie a squeeze again. “You want to get out of here?” Steve does not use his words, throat feeling raw and scratchy just nods his head, nose brushing against the skin over Tommy’s pulse. “Let me take you home.” It is not really a question, as Tommy pulls on Steve’s pinkie until he rises with him, fishing Steve’s keys from his pocket without a word.
The drive is quiet, just the radio playing soft and low, the streets are empty this late at night. Steve feels like shit, emotionally broken and having Tommy right here so close helps, helps a lot just like it always has but Nancy’s words still rattle around his brain, make his heart hurt a lot like it had back in November when he and Tommy stopped talking. “It hurts.” Steve breaks the silence, voice low, the only thing keeping him from crying again is their pinkies still linked.
Tommy turns to look at him with something Steve cannot define in his eyes, the red glow of the stop light washing over their skin. “I can make it better.” Tommy finally says skin washed in green as the signal changes but he ignores it and keeps the car stopped as he keeps staring at Steve giving his pinkie a squeeze.
It is not the first time Tommy has offered something like this but this time it is different it means more. Steve knows it means more than right here right now, means more than just the night this time. Something Steve has thought about countless times but never thought Tommy would ever offer, secretly wanting but never saying as much aloud.
“I know you can,” Steve gives their joined pinkies a tug and asks “will you?” Steve does not need to ask a second time, does not need to offer Tommy any more leading, as he leans over the gearshift and kisses Steve for the first time in almost a year.
-End