Work Text:
Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington may be a disgraced ex-popular basketball jock, currently located in a town with gates to hell scattered around like candy.
But he refuses to be unemployed. The man has standards. Today, said job was at family video.
Robin and Steve and spent their morning with the usual restocking and daily background movies to fill the comfortable quiet of the store.
“I still don’t understand what your deal is. Sure, she's totally way out of your league, but when has that ever stopped you?” Robin was sitting on the side, swinging her legs absentmindedly as she observed Steve having his biweekly freak out over a certain someone.
“Robin, you know it’s not that simple. She’s not normal” the older teen snorts at that “You are trying to ask her out, right?” Steve backtracks immediately, only just replaying his words to himself “No-ugh-you know what I mean.” he sets down a pile of tapes, leaning on the counter as his friend slurps loudly on her icy drink. She continues “Webbed fingers not-normal, or showing genuine human kindness not-normal?”
He sighs, running his hand through his perfectly sculpted hair “She’s not a Becky, or a Karen, or even a Tracy. I don’t know what to do with myself, it’s…”
“Pathetic?” his co-worker adds helpfully.
“Thanks, Robin” the girl hops off the counter and starts lightly walking back and forth in the small space behind the till, “Have you considered that maybe it’s the fact that you’re relying on your popular Steve brain instead of present day Steve brain?” He peeks his head up a little, confused “Well what does the present day Steve brain look like?”
“Mostly hollow, but he’s also no longer solely reliant on fictitious social constructs like ‘popularity’ so survive in the wild” Robin takes another of her slurpee, not trying to hide her grin “Survive?” he was not offended yet but was getting close. “Have you seen yourself when she’s around, it’s like you've magically undergone metamorphosise and the result is a cherry”
“Not a tomato?”
“Too pale, it’s like all the blood stops at your cheeks and doesn’t quite make it to the brain. Which is not exactly your fault, she is hot, but there's only so much second hand embarrassment I can take before I have to start leaving the room. Then you’d just freeze like last time and she’d probably think you’re a full creepazoid."
As he sighs it's like his whole body deflates and the man becomes more and more reliant on the table to hold up both himself and the weight of his despair “It’s like I’m being punished. It’s hopeless”
“I mean…”
“Robin. Do not agree with me right now.”
“I wasn’t” she was quick to correct herself, not meaning to sound so harsh. “It’s just…maybe you can try working on being able to get out more than a sentence before your tongue trips over itself. I mean she comes in here at least twice a week, plenty of time to practice. The rest of the time she’s probably working or at the arcade” Steve rests his chin in his palm, staring out the glass front door. “Maybe I could ask her out to the movies? She was talking about ‘shop of horrors’ or something. Would it be weird to go to the Diner and ask her out, if she works there does it qualify as her space? But she isn’t a Tracy so she won’t really like public displays or anything like that, I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. God this sucks.”
Robin cuts through his rambling, usually she was the overthinker out of the two but he sometimes outdid her, only sometimes. “First of all, it's ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ and she was talking about it with me. Second, you need to start actually talking to the girl you like, if you want to date her. Eavesdropping is not a sustainable source of information on your maybe-future-girlfriend.”
“Robin, I feel like this is obvious but to clarify, if you tell her any of this I’m not driving you anywhere for a year. Passenger privileges will be fully revoked.”
“Steve, I would never betray your trust like that.”
.
.
.
Robin’s shift ends. Steve drives her back to her parent’s house. As soon as that door closes she is running to the phone and thankfully you pick up “STEVE IS GONNA ASK YOU OUT, shit.”
You’re laying on your bed, waiting for your nails to dry as your friend huffs on the other line to catch her breath. “You mean he’s going to attempt to ask me out again” Robin ‘the wingman’ Buckley does her best to defend Steve’s honour. “Come on, he sounded serious this time. I gave him some help so you’re welcome and you don’t have to pay for the movie tickets. He’s been talking about you since Friday”
The line pauses for a moment “Since, today?” your friend rolls her eyes, leaning against the wall and sinking down only the plush carpet. “Last Friday I mean, he just won’t shut up about you and It’s kind of annoying” you smile, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder “...sorry? I guess.”
“Don’t get me wrong it’s cute how oblivious he thinks you are, you have definitely underestimated how blind he is. Like if he was born without eyes and had a bag over his head plus being in a room without the lights on, this alternative version would still be able to see that you’ve been crushing on him for months.” your groan, rolling your head back, only a little embarrassed “He’s hot Robin, it’s disgusting.” she chuckles “I know, you have terrible taste but as the amazing friend I am I will choose to love you anyways” you coo back, smiling to yourself again “Awe how charitable of you, sure I’m not a lost cause?”
“Lets see if he can manage a sentence first”
“Is that really the bar?”
“Correction, it's your bar. The only thing keeping you two apart is his temporary aphasia”
You roll out of bed, watching as your parents car pulls into the driveway “Another week and I’ll just ask him out myself” that was the funniest thing Robin had heard all day. “Oh so you’re both delusional, that’s cute” you are quick to respond, delivering a fatal blow to her smug attitude “Oh shut up. Don’t think I’ve not overheard your version of flirting in real time with Vicky, It’s like watching a bird’s mating dance on the discovery channel.”
.
.
.
VHS in hand, you walk into Family Video, there to return the usual two movies your dad had rented for the weekend. Upon seeing your face Robin swiftly abandons Steve at the till to hide in the break room, but not without spying through the little glass window. “Hey, Steve” you greeted the man with a smile and a small wave.
He was distracted and fiddling with the display, not fully processing your voice “Hey, ___. Hay- oh umm. Didn't see you there, Hi.” he leans on the counter with his elbow, nervously running a hand through his hair twice to shake away any non resistant imperfections. Steve was silently cursing himself, screaming ‘loser’ on repeat, like he’d not fully abandoned his bully years. Instead, this version of him had chosen to ingrain itself into his inner monologue, haunting him.
“This place is kinda dead, don’t you and Robin have the same shift today?”
“What do you-?” Steve turns his head to find Robin’s prior location unoccupied. “Oh. Great.” he mutters to himself, brain overheating already at the thought of his human shield’s absence.
It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, you’d gone through the whole upside down situation with him and the two of you bonded over not dying really well, friends even. But after his epiphany of realising his feelings for you, conversations felt…constipated. For lack of a better word.
You move the bag onto the table, letting it sit on the side “You okay?” Your eyes seem to magnetically repel his own since Steve was trying his very best to not pay for a ride to the hospital. His heart was going crazy. “Uhuh. Yeah. Hey, you have a job.” his voice cracks just a smidge and you lean over the counter, leaning into his space.
“Yes. Yes I have a job?” You smile at his nervous energy, flattered and also impressed Robin hadn’t saved him yet from floundering. “I mean- I know you do but I was thinking about asking how that was going?” you tried to stay calm yourself, hoping it gets perceived as confidence. “You can ask me how work is, Steve” The man coughs into his fist and leans over the counter towards you, he has his arms folded but one finger is still tapping on the counter.
“How was work”
You shrugged, trying not to let the dam of overwhelming emotions you’d collected from the day burst. “The usual, annoying boss and mean old ladies” Steve bristles at that, brows furrowed as he tilts his head to the side slightly.
“Who was mean to you?” Steve's eyes scanned you slowly, not in a perverse way, just to check if you’re okay without feeling like he’s pressuring you. Your make-up was smudged and your usual uniform was askew. Hair was messy but in a way that made his heart warm, like you were comfortable enough around him to be just a crumb less than perfect, while still being the image of perfection in his eyes.
He wanted you to be comfortable around him, like you could confide in him. He liked being reliable and basically a rock for you, maybe it was an embedded instinct after so many life or death situations. As a result his love language is primarily acts of service and physical touch (but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself)
“Margret and Helen. These two regulars who absolutely hate me but refuse to be served by anyone else. They complain about there being lipstick on the rims of their mugs when it’s their lipstick, then they make me wipe it off for them. They asked me to bring them the ‘red sauce’ today and so I thought they obviously meant ketchup right? But no. They wanted chili sauce. Suddenly, I’m worse than both their sons because somehow they think I have interest in dating their devil spawn who are like forty by the way. They just hate their daughters in law more.”
You rest your forehead into your arms and Steve rubs your back soothingly for a moment “That…is a lot. The most we’ve had is a man trying to steal our cardboard cutout” you glance over at the paper woman with her shirt open, you sneer. Hiding your face again from the world, “I hate people”
“Yeah. People will make you hate people, there's a reason retirement homes do amazing abroad, because moving out of your parents house just isn't enough sometimes” you huff out a laugh and stand up again, Steve does a little cheer inside, stupidly proud he made you a little less miserable with a dumb joke. “I wish someone would ship those old crones across an ocean for me” the words escape his mouth before he can stop them “I could help” you fiddle with a small cassette case, looking up at Steve with a brow raised. “Really?”
He looks away, stuttering a little before finding his footing in the words, this was probably the longest conversation you’d had with him in months. It was nice. “Well, I can’t force Margaret and Helen into a shipping container but I can take you to the movies tomorrow. Or- y. Like- whenever.” you blink in surprise taking a second to think before responding. In that time, Steve had already chosen which one of his parents should sign his obituary “Pick me up at the diner after my shift?”
He wheezed out a small “Sure” not realising how his throat had tightened from panic. It was just not that he realised how damp and shaky his hands felt. He blamed you. It was all you. After graduation, despite seeing for yourself what a horrible prick he was back then, you’d seen him change and chose to be nice to him anyway.
Glancing behind him, Robin was offering a thumbs up through the glass of the breakroom door’s window
“Thank you, Steve. For the motivation to survive my eight hour shift.” Your conversation would repeat in his mind until the next time he saw you, something that happened whenever the two of you exchanged words.
.
.
.
Steve had decided on the classic flowers and chocolates, only to psych himself out and ditch the flowers in the backseat and retrieve them again a moment later. What if you’d suddenly decided that you hated your favourite flower, and by association, him for getting you said flowers. It was a very possible scenario.
The thing is, Steve only realised once he got home that he’d never actually said the word ‘date’ when asking you out. Now the guy was pulling into the parking lot and trying to lean on his car in a way that said ‘get in or whatever, I’m nonchalant and cool. Please don’t hate me’
“Steve!” you called out across the dark street, waving to get his attention. Steve jumps slightly and almost slips off the hood but manages to stabilise himself, preying you did not notice. “I thought you didn’t get off for another hour?” He watches as you chuck your sweater through the passenger window and get in quickly, you motion for him to get inside and his body catches up with his brain. “Come on, we gotta go. Lets move”
He pulls out of the parking space and heads towards the theatre “What, why?” You undo your collar button and rummage in your bag for some make up remover wipes, beginning to fix the smudging around your eyes from running around all day after customers. “I left my manager to finish the closing shift by herself, she’ll notice I’m gone soon” Steve’s eyes are on the road like the responsible driver he “How are you still employed?” you pull down the small mirror and focus on reapplying “Not sure, but she has it in her heart to maybe forgive me.”
Steve smiles and nods towards the back, pretending to have forgotten about the little display “I got you something.” you snatch up the flowers and chocolate, abandoning the mirror to read the little note on the side of the bouquet “Steve you got me my favourite…everything, thank you. I’m starving.” He shrugs, feeling just a little more relaxed but still hyper aware that your eyes are on him and focused on his face. “Well we can fill up on popcorn when we get there, I’ll buy you a milkshake.”
You grin mischievously “Is Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington trying to hit on me?” He turns a new shade of red, turning his face away from you to check his rear-view mirror “Depends on if it’s working or not” you sit back in your seat, snacking on the fancy chocolates, offering him one occasionally “I’d say it is” Steve’s chest warms and he glances over at you “Then yes. I am.”
“Good, because I got you a little something too” you hand him a warm paper bag. He peeks in for a moment before a big warm smile creeping onto his lips "There's no way you managed to sneak me these.” you clarify quickly, shedding light on the five hours spent in the kitchen to perfect the gift. “I didn’t. I made them myself and kept them warm for you all day” Steve’s world slows down for a second, he almost forgets he’s driving.
“You made these for me?” ‘the hair’ Harrington sounded so genuinely touched by your efforts, like he couldn't believe someone would waste time on that kind of thing just for him. “Just you. No one else got any” He’s turning his head every so often to get as many looks at you as possible while still driving on the road “You want me to crash? How’d you know I loved these?”
You snort “Because you come in and order the same thing every time. Morning drinks for you and Robin, then a donut for her and five apple flitters double glazed” Steve cannot recall a time in the last year, where any of the girls on his many many dates had ever gotten him such a sweet gift. “You’re so lucky I don’t have a ring on me” you laugh at the absurdity and Steve makes a sound equivalent to a whispered moan upon biting into the treat. His fist banging on the dash. Mumbling out an incoherent “oh my god” you pat his upper arm hesitantly “Your gratitude is noted.”
Before heading inside you grab the box of chocolates and shove them up his shirt so the cold box is pressed into his back. He jumps and scrambles to get them out. “The Hell!” you tuck his shirt into his belt to stop them falling out “Shush. I used to work here and they’re super strict about food, we need a good place to hide it.” Steve sighs and talks to you over his shoulder “And that’s up my shirt?” you smile to yourself deviously “Yes.”
“Fine. Then I’m taking the apple fritters too” he grabs the bag and starts chasing you around the car as you dodge his attacks “StEve NO. My uniform!”
The two of you get inside and grab a bucket of popcorn plus some milkshakes, all paid for by Steve's wallet. Not that he would ever let you pay for anything, he actively snatched your purse out of your hands when you tried, then held it over his head. One of the security guards thought he was robbing you.
You sat towards the back just as the movie started rolling (OMG no 30 minutes of ads before you get to watch what you paid to see. Crazy right?)
Around fifteen minutes in you notice how fidgety Steve’s arm is, he was trying to rest it on the back of your seat without being conspicuous but failing. So you did it yourself. You took his hand and wrapped it around you, allowing you to lean into him more and steal some of the popcorn he was hoarding before resting your head on his shoulder. You both looked like an old married couple and were acting like one.
The dim lights made the space feel so cosy, Steve was also ridiculously warm, you could feel the heat through his jacket. You’re staring at Steve but he doesn’t seem to mind. Occasionally he’ll lean down and whisper a question or ask if you need anything like “so does the plant want to take over the world or is it more of a leach” you’ll whisper back and he’ll try not to think about the heat of your breath on his neck, or the fact that he can still feel the ghost of your hands as they brush up against his lower back.
By the time the movie ends it’s late into the night and Steve insists on driving you back home himself, only for tragedy to strike.
“Those songs were so good” You and Steve walk up your driveway, he was holding your work bag for you over his shoulder and the leftover popcorn “Still don’t understand why they don’t just set Audrey II on fire, like he's a plant. If he’s taking over the world just get a lighter” you leaned into his side, feet still tired from your shift “Yeah, the musical ending is better” you two get to your front door.
Then you get an idea.
Would it be too much to give him a little kiss on the cheek for treating you to such an amazing non-date date?
“Steve?” you reach up and pull his shoulders down, lips aimed at the target. But the target moves his head, turning towards you at the last second and boom. Lips hit. Mission abort. Critical damage. Rolled three on dexterity. He lets out a sound of surprise then sinks down slightly to push back into the kiss before realising what was happening. The two of you immediately separate and yell half coherent apologies at one another as he retreats to his car, hand covering his mouth. Face as red as it could possibly get without being a medical concern. You’re not much better.
You slam the door shut and run to the phone to call Robin. Who later has to put you on hold and alternate in conversations between the two of you. One was equally humiliated and embarrassed of the other, though Steve was more embarrassed that you had the balls to kiss him before he kissed you. Even if it was unintentional.
Steve knew one thing above all else though, he was not joking about that ring, not when his lips are still burning from your kiss.