Chapter Text
Steve had just gotten out of the shower after basketball. His teammates had all left and gotten changed by now, but Steve's hair required a seven step process, and it didn't matter, as he had a free period next anyway. He had just finished patting down his hair, throwing the towel across the locker room, slinging his jeans on, that clung to his damp skin. He reached for his shirt, when he heard a soft click.
He looked up. Eyes darting around the room. Just out of the corner of his eye he spotted a person. Looking closer it was a poorly hidden, Jonathan Byers. "First the party, now this. I knew you were a perv Byers, but this is a step down from what I imagined." He put his hands on his hips as Jonathan stepped forward from out of the shadows.
Suddenly Steve took a step forward, flooding Jonathan's personal space. Snatching the Camera from his hands he turned back, purposely keeping it out of reach, mock observing it, keeping it on the tip of his fingers millimeters from falling. "No please... I... I'm sorry." Jonathan lowered his arms knowing not to provoke Steve.
"Ah he speaks!" He tutted, it wasn't good enough. He watched Jonathan look around the room planting his eyes on the floor, his hands clenching and unclenching, missing the weight of his camera.
He turned back to his clothes, and pulled his shirt on still grasping the camera tauntingly. "Theres no point appologising Byers. You aren't sorry." His voice shifted, his tone change from what was previously a mock to serious, low, dangerous. He held the camera out over the ground. Threatening. He raised an eyebrow as he saw Jonathan ache to rush forward.
"Please don't. Please don't break my camera." Jonathan wasn't above begging now. Steve chuckled, though it was more a snarl, "And why shouldn't I. It'd solve this little problem of yours."
Jonathan took a step forward, his hand phantom reaching, as if he'd already let it fall, to which Steve held the camera high above his head. "Please it's all I have." He kept his tone calm, though a warble made its way through.
"It's all I have." He mocked, giggling manically, as if his begging was the funniest thing ever. "Please." Jonathan was firm now and his eyes showed only apathy.
"Why? What do I gain by allowing you to continue photographing me?" Jonathan took a step back again, now seeing an opportunity. "What will it take?" Steve tilted his head in curiousity, and warned, "Oh you don't want to go there, Jonathan. Jonathan raised his eyes from the ground, making eyes contact with Steve and stated firmly, "What will it take?"
A moment of silence passed over them. "Wow you really are willing to do anything for this thing huh." He thought for a moment, counting out the numbers. "Be my slave. Mine. For the next month, two if you piss me off. And then, and only then, will you get your camera back." He waved it tauntingly. He watched Jonathan lowered his head, his forehead almost landing on Steve's chest as he sighed a long sigh. "Fine."
That surprised Steve it was supposed to be a joke. Then, unexpectedly Jonathan looked up, a previously unseen fire in his eyes. "You're going to have to be specific here. What do you want and what kind of hours am I working. Do I still have the privilege of seeing my family?" That surprised Steve. The idea that Jonathan would see him like that, working him every hour and stopping him from seeing his family. It broke him. Steve only wanted him to carry his things and perhaps make him a sandwich, this was completely unexpected but he played into it.
"Hmmm. Well I suppose I can grant you that privilege. But don't think I'll go soft on you." He booped his nose condensedingly as Jonathan looked up with silent hate brewing in his eyes, though didn't dare to contradict. "....Deal." He spat out, voice filled with distain. "Ah ah ah," he tutted, "Adress me properly."
"Its a deal... Sir."
He pat his cheek with his free hand, "Good boy you're learning already." He cooed patronisingly. Jonathan held his hand out, though Steve didn't move. "I told you. You aren't getting it back until after the month. Call it insurance if you will. If you don't do as I say, I'll take my trusty hammer and bash it in, until you won't be able to tell it apart from the tarmac.
Jonathan lowered his hand. All that fire in his eyes, extinguished in a moment. "Of course... Sir." That quiver in his voice came back, it made Steve want to bundle him up in blanket and hug him better. He wasn't actually going to smash Jonathan's camera, though he needed some kind of power over him. He needed to learn not to take pervy photos. He grabbed the towel from off the floor. Placing it in the basket. "I'll be in touch, Byers." Steve pushed past him and left the locker room leaving, Jonathan standing there.