Chapter Text
Oh, Jonathan suddenly realized, feeling Steve’s hot palm on the nape of his neck.
“Hey, Byers,” the other boy greeted easily, slipping behind him in the darkroom to give Nancy a quick peck.
Jonathan glanced over at him, wondering just when he’d started to trust Steve Harrington. They’d all (him, Steve, and Nancy) been hanging out since… everything. And Jonathan supposed you could call him and Steve friends, but how did he slip past his defenses so easily? He’d heard the darkroom door open and hadn’t even worried about who it might be, and then he'd felt the hand on his neck and knew it was Steve and knew he didn’t have to worry about anything. How strange.
Jonathan tried to shake the vaguely worrying feeling that had settled across his shoulders and focused on fishing the newest print from its chemical bath to hang and dry.
“Did you eat already?” Jonathan heard Nancy ask Steve quietly.
“Yeah. I actually ate my lunch this morning I was so hungry.”
Jonathan could hear the wry humor in Steve’s voice and knew exactly what kind of smirk he was sporting right now. “You can have mine,” he muttered, staring through the enlarger at another print. It was one of his mom and Will, on a good day.
“What?” Steve immediately protested. “I’m not eating your lunch!”
Jonathan glanced over at him, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “Neither am I.”
Nancy grinned, and quickly brought her hand up to cover her mouth, as she was mid-chew.
Steve rolled his eyes, but a smile was tugging on the right side of his lips traitorously. “You think you’re so smart.”
“Nancy’s the smart one here,” Jonathan shot back, affecting a flat tone.
“Yeah!” Nancy agreed immediately, gently smacking Steve’s shoulder.
“I never said you weren’t! But okay, you’re the smart one, I’m the hot one, what does that make Byers?”
Jonathan felt a blush tickle the sides of his nose. “Still the one not eating his lunch,” he quickly interjected. He didn’t actually want to know what he was in this little trio, other than the third wheel. (Though they’d rarely made him feel that way.)
“Alright, alright.” Steve sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up. “I’ll eat your lunch, man. Take one for the team,” he joked, grabbing Johnathan’s brown sack lunch off the table Nancy was sitting on.
Nancy smiled kindly at Jonathan, who quickly refocused on developing his prints. Somehow, this had become one of their routines, eating lunch together in the darkroom. It had started with Jonathan refusing to eat lunch with Nancy and Steve in the cafeteria. Not because he didn’t like them, as they had wondered, but because his social anxiety had been bad enough before he became The Freaky Brother of That Kid Who Came Back from the Dead. In some ways he was braver since that whole ordeal, but in most ways he was exactly the same as he’d always been.
He’d told the other two countless times that they didn’t have to hide out with him every day, until eventually Nancy point-blank asked, “Do you like it when we’re here?”
“Well- well yes, but-“
“Then that’s it.”
And that was it. And so were movie nights at Steve’s house on Fridays when his parents took off, and homework at Nancy’s when Jonathan brought Will over to hang out with Mike, and so were the random wanderings that overtook their restless teenage spirits on the weekends. And it was strange, but Jonathan liked it all. He liked having friends.
“My place tonight?” Steve asked around a mouthful of tuna sandwich.
“Gross, babe,” Nancy admonished. “But yes, despite your manners.”
Steve hummed in amusement before swallowing. “Byers, your mom makes the most amazing sandwiches.”
Distracted, Jonathan blinked over at the other boy in confusion. “My mom-“ But his brain finally caught up and he cut himself off. “Uh, yeah, she does,” he quickly amended.
Those were things they didn’t talk about: Jonathan’s absent dad, the fact that he was basically running the house, that he never had extra money for snacks or movies, the fact that the Byers family still lived in the house where they had tortured a freaking monster. All the ways that he was starkly different from them, the ways that he was inferior. If he showed them, wouldn’t they leave? They were both so beautiful and had so much going for them. They had colleges and houses and babies in their future. Johnathan could barely see past the school year, what the summer might bring. If they would still even be friends.
Out in the hall, the bell rang for the end of lunch. Jonathan started taking the pictures he’d hung to dry down, stuffing them in a folder as Nancy hopped off the table and Steve shoved the rest of Jonathan’s sandwich in his face.
“Okay,” Nancy said hurriedly, “I’ll see you guys after school!” She had Chemistry on the opposite side of the building from the boys’ next classes.
“Bye Nance!” they called simultaneously as she flung herself out the door.
“Ugh, school should just end after lunch,” Steve lamented as they started down the hall.
“For you it often does.”
“Ha! You’re not wrong.”
Steve wasn’t a genius like Nancy, but he managed to pass all of his classes even while skipping them half the time. Jonathan could never do that; even when he studied he barely passed his math and science classes. The other subjects were easy for him, thankfully.
As they neared Steve’s Calculus class, he clapped Jonathan’s shoulder with a cheerful “See you later!” before disappearing inside.
Jonathan once again found himself wondering at the touch; the act itself, the reaction (or lack thereof) from him, and its frequency. That was the second time in the span of about twenty minutes. How often did Steve part with these small gestures of affection? And how had Jonathan never noticed before? As he made his way to his AP English class, he resolved to find out.
--
Later that evening found the three friends in Steve’s living room, happily snacking on the takeout pizza Steve had ordered as they watched Blade Runner- one of Jonathan’s favorites.
“This movie is fucking weird,” Steve muttered, sliding off the couch to the floor and reaching for another slice of pizza, fixated on the screen despite his words.
“Just watch,” Jonathan replied quietly, completely enraptured. But not enough that he missed Steve settling against his legs while still on the floor. Jonathan’s attention immediately fixated on the warm contact of his knees and feet against Steve’s back and butt. Did he realize what he was doing? How could he not? Did he mean to lean against Nancy’s legs instead? But a quick glance to the right showed the slender girl with her legs pulled up on the couch as she absently played with the bottom of her long skirt.
Jonathan looked back at the screen and desperately tried not to panic, or fidget, or even breathe. Despite their history, the two boys had become friends. (Steve liked to joke that Jonathan had beat some sense into him.) But that didn’t necessarily mean that Johnathan forgot all the times he (or anyone at school) had called him queer.
Because… they hadn’t been wrong, exactly. Except Jonathan also felt funny, warm, embarrassing things about Nancy as well. And he honestly had no idea if this was a side effect of a platonic friendship or not. Or maybe he was just some kind of special freak, lusting after his two (only) friends because he was lonely and creepy and queer. He couldn’t remember when the feelings had developed; they felt like they had always been there. But these were his friends and they already put up with him in everything else so he resolved never to show or do or act on anything. He couldn’t ruin what they had. He couldn’t go back to life without them now that he knew how superior life with them was.
And then, just as he was starting to marginally relax, Nancy leaned her body over to cuddle against his side and rest her head on his shoulder.
Before he even consciously knew what was happening, Jonathan was shaking himself free of them, stumbling over the arm of the couch, and retreating to the kitchen, his mind a blank slate of panic and confusion.
“Jonathan, wait!” He turned. Nancy had followed him, looking concerned and a little surprised. Steve hovered in the doorway, a safe distance away.
Jonathan crossed him arms tightly over his chest and opened his mouth, but the only thing that came out was a series of stuttered sounds.
“It’s okay,” Nancy said softly, slowly approaching him with her hands spread, like he was a frightened animal. (Wasn’t he?) “I’m sorry, maybe we should have talked about this first.” She held out a hand, offering Jonathan to take it.
He stared at it in blind confusion. What was happening? “Wh- what is this?”
“Jonathan,” Nancy sighed softly, like it was a secret. “I like you. Like, romantically.” Terrified, Jonathan’s gaze jumped up to Steve’s, who face was carefully blank. “Steve does too,” she confided.
He reeled back, stepping into the stove behind him. Was this some kind of sick joke?
“It’s true, Byers,” Steve offered, slowly moving closer. “We’re happy together, but we’re happier with you. I know this seems crazy and we thought so at first, too, but that’s just how it is, you know?”
“If you don’t want us,” Nancy said slowly, her hand still reached out in front of her, “that’s okay. I know it’s weird. But we really do want you. And… I think you want us back.”
“I need to…” Jonathan trailed off, sliding to sit on the floor with his knees up protectively in front of him. He felt like he was going to shake apart. “Please… please don’t mess with me like this.”
“Oh Jonathan,” Nancy sighed, kneeling on the floor a safe distance away from him. “We would never do that to you. Again, I know this is crazy and weird and scary, but we’re being honest with you.”
“We really are,” Steve offered quietly, sitting cross-legged by Nancy. “I think about kissing you all the time, you know?”
Jonathan gaped at him, breath stuttering in his throat. Steve Harrington thought about kissing him? “Shit. I’ve gone crazy,” he declared, letting his head fall back against the oven door.
“Who hasn’t after that monster business?” Steve shrugged, looking terribly unconcerned about the whole situation. But that was Steve: eternally sure of himself whether facing monsters or walking through a high school.
“Again, if you want, we can forget this conversation ever happened,” Nancy reassured him. “But, if you don’t want to forget…”
Jonathan looked at them. They were both so beautiful, looking at him expectantly, like what he thought mattered, like he mattered. “Can I think about it?” he asked tentatively.
Nancy immediately smiled and nodded, but Steve shook his head decisively. “Nope.”
“Steve!” Nancy frowned over at him.
“No,” he repeated, looking steadily at Jonathan. “Because I know you, Byers. I know you’re going to work yourself into fits about this and talk yourself out of it and be your usual self-deprecating self and wonder if we’re too good for you. Well we’re not better than you and we do like you and want to be with you.”
While Jonathan stared at him, desperately trying to get his brain to work, Steve knelt up and started crawling towards him.
“Jonathan Byers. Unless you tell me ‘no’ right now, I am going to kiss you. Because I’ve wanted to ever since you kicked my ass.”
Jonathan’s heart rate kicked up into his throat and he quickly glanced at Nancy, but she was just looking patient and thoughtful. And then Steve’s hands were on Jonathan’s knees and Johnathan looked up at him desperately because god yes did he want Steve Harrington to kiss him. He swallowed nervously as Steve paused, studying his face. He must have liked what he saw, because suddenly he was grinning and leaning closer and god he was even prettier up-close and he smelled so good and his eyes were closing and then he was kissing Jonathan.
Jonathan inhaled sharply through his nose as his arms finally uncrossed and fell to his sides. Steve pulled back and looked at him carefully. “Was that okay?”
Dumbly, Jonathan nodded and let his knees fall open, encouraging Steve closer. “Please…” he murmured.
He wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking for (just more) but Steve apparently knew because he grinned as bright as the sun and leaned in again, this time unhampered by Jonathan’s knees. Jonathan inhaled a shuddering gasp as Steve licked at his lips (god he hoped his breath didn’t stink) and hooked his hands under Jonathan’s knees, gently pulling him closer. Steve tilted his head and seemed to be trying to crawl into Jonathan, his tongue was so deep in his mouth. Oh if he’d known kissing felt like this he would have been trying a lot harder way sooner. Or maybe it was just Steve?
Jonathan felt like there was a fire inside of him, but it didn’t burn; just warmed him to his very core. It dimmed as Steve suddenly pulled away, breathing out a “wow” as he fell back on his butt dramatically. “Damn. Okay Nance, your turn.”
Jonathan’s gaze shot up to the girl, who was blushing and looked delighted. Mimicking Steve, she crawled over to Jonathan and deftly swung herself over to straddle his lap, settling delicately. “All right?” she asked, grinning.
Jonathan quickly nodded, hands coming up to gently bracket her hips. Nancy tucked her hair behind her ears, cupped his face so tenderly he wanted to cry, and pressed her lips to his. Jonathan’s head was reeling. He’d wanted Nancy for so long, and then Steve, and now they had both kissed him and weren’t laughing at him or running away as fast as they could.
He parted his lips as he felt Nancy’s mouth open and then their tongues were pushing against each other and everything was perfect. At some point Steve came up alongside Jonathan and he switched from Nancy to Steve. And then Steve and Nancy made out for a while. And they just sat there on the kitchen floor swapping kisses and gentle touches until Jonathan’s entire body was tingling from both arousal and from having sat on the floor for so long.
Nancy broke their kiss and leaned her forehead against Jonathan’s, her breath panting over his swollen lips. “God that’s…”
“Really hot?” Steve smirked, leaning back against the over and running a hand through his hair. “Jonathan?”
He nodded shakily as Nancy sat back against his knees. “I think I can die happy now.”
“Just wait for the sex!” Steve enthused, laughing as Jonathan went bright red and Nancy smacked his shoulder.