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Steve and Dustin almost never fought. Not because they were perfect, they weren’t, far from it actually.
Steve left dishes in the sink because he “was soaking them.” Dustin had a habit of disappearing into projects until three in the morning, surviving on coffee and stubbornness. Steve worried too much. Dustin bottled things up until they burst. They were human. But they had learned each other. Learned when to apologize, learned when to let something go, learned when one of them simply needed five minutes before continuing a conversation.
All of this combined was why this fight felt so wrong. It wasn’t about the dishes or work or money. It wasn’t even really about what they were arguing over anymore. It had become about feeling unheard.
“I’m trying, Dustin.” Steve stood in the middle of their living room, shouldes slumped over. Dustin paced around, seemingly not knowing how to stand still, “I know you’re trying!” “Then why does it feel like nothing I do is enough anymore?” Dustin threw his hands into the air. “Because you keep trying to fix everything!” Steve was fighting tears at this point, “I’m trying to help!” “I don’t need help every second of every day!” Dustin shouted now. The words echoed through the apartment. Both of them stopped. Too late, damage done now.
Steve’s jaw tightened. “So what is it you need?” Dustin opened his mouth before he closed it again. He didn’t know what he needed and somehow that made everything worse.
Steve rubbed both hands over his face. He looked exhausted, not even angry. Just tired.
“I think…” His voice was quiet. “…maybe we need one night.”
Dustin blinked, trying to understand what Steve was saying, “What?”
“One night. Just to cool off.” Steve finally looked at him.
Silence spred through. The apartment suddenly felt far too small. One night. That was all. Not a breakup. Not a threat. Just Space.
Dustin swallowed. “…Yeah. Maybe we do.” The words tasted awful.
“Yeah.” Steve couldn‘t meet his eyes any longer.
Knowing when he‘s defeatet, Dustin retreats to the Bedroom. He wouldn‘t make Steve leave their home so he would be the one to stay at a motel for the night. Packing a backpack took less than five minutes. Phone charger. Toothbrush. A clean shirt. He zipped it closed. Steve stood awkwardly in the hallway. Neither of them seemed to know what people were supposed to do after saying they needed space.
Dustin reached for the apartment keys. Then remembered that he didn’t need them. Steve would be here. So he left them on the little table by the door. Steve noticed, his expression crumpled for just a fraction of a second.
“Dust…” “It’s one night.” “I know. I’ll…” Dustin shrugged. “…I’ll text you tomorrow.” Steve just nodded, “Drive safe.” It felt horribly inadequate and so unfamilliar to him.
Dustin forced himself to smile. “You too.” Steve almost laughed at that, “I’m staying home.”
“Right.” Dustin’s smile vanished and for one impossible moment they just looked at each other. Everything in Steve wanted to close the distance, pull Dustin into a hug, tell him to forget the whole thing. Everything in Dustin wanted exactly the same. Neither moved. The door clicked shut behind Dustin.
⸻
The motel smelled faintly of bleach and old carpet. The room wasn’t terrible by any means but it wasn’t nice either. One bed, one lamp, one window overlooking the parking lot. It would do.
Dustin dropped his bag onto the chair and sat on the edge of the mattress. The silence was unbearable. He reached for his phone where there were already two messages.
Stevie: Text me when you get there.
A second one, five minutes later.
Stevie: Please.
Dustin stared at the screen for a long moment. Then typed.
Made it. Room’s fine.
The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.
Stevie: Good
A pause.
Stevie: I’m glad you’re safe.
Nothing else. No reopening the argument. No guilt. Just I’m glad you’re safe. Dustin’s chest tightened. He set the phone face down.
Tomorrow. They’d fix this tomorrow.
Sleep came slowly. Restlessly. He tossed beneath unfamiliar sheets, every sound outside made him stir. Headlights slid across the ceiling. Car doors slammed somewhere in the parking lot. The air conditioner rattled.
But eventually exhaustion won dropping him into:
Darkness and Wet earth. The smell hit him first. Rot. Spores. Blood.
No. No. Not again.
He knew this place. The Upside Down stretched endlessly in every direction. Spores drifted through the air like snow. Something screamed. Far away. Or maybe very close.
“DUSTIN!”
Steve. He turned. Steve was standing on the crumbling remains of a walkway. Reaching for him.
“DUSTIN!”
“STEVE! STAY THERE!”
He ran. The ground gave way beneath his feet, vines wrapped around his ankles and pulled. Hard. He hit the ground. Couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Steve was trying to reach him. Too far. Always too far.
“Dustin, please!”
The vines climbed higher. Wrapping around his chest. Around his throat. He clawed desperately at them. They only tightened.
Steve jumped. Missed. Fell.
“No! Steve, please no!”
Steve hit the ground and didn’t get back up. “No. Please, please, no!” He choked out.
Vecna’s voice echoed from everywhere.
“You couldn’t save Eddie. You couldn’t save Eleven. Now watch.”
Steve wasn’t moving, blood spread beneath him. Eyes open and hollow. His hand lay only inches away.
Dustin screamed and…
woke sitting bolt upright. The scream still tearing through his throat. The motel room snapped back into focus. Dark. Silent. Wrong.
His lungs refused to work any longer. His entire body believed he was still there. That Steve was… He stumbled out of bed and nearly fell. The room tilted violently.
No. No. No.
He couldn’t— He couldn’t— His hands just wouldn’t stop shaking.
He made it to the tiny bathroom and splashed water onto his face. The reflection in the mirror looked terrified. The panic only grew while his breathing became sharp and painful. Every instinct screamed that Steve was dying or already dead.
He had to— No. They’d fought, Steve needed space. He’d asked for one night. One stupid night.
Dustin slid down the bathroom wall until he was sitting on the cold tile. His phone lay on the floor beside him. He stared at it, minutes passed.
His vision blurred. He picked up the phone, unlocked it, opened Steve’s contact, closed it again.
No. He couldn’t. Not after today. Steve deserved one peaceful night. Another wave of panic crashed through him.
His chest seized. He couldn’t breathe. His thumb pressed Call before he could talk himself out of it. One ring and Steve answered.
“Dust?”
No hesitation. No sleep-heavy confusion. Just… Dustin. Dustin tried to answer but nothing came out, only ragged breathing. The line went completely silent. Then Steve’s voice changed instantly.
“Dustin? Please, talk to me.”
“I…” His voice cracked. “I’m…”
Steve was already moving. Dustin could hear it. Footsteps. A drawer. Keys.
“What happened, baby? Please.” “N-nightmare. I’m… I‘m s-so sorry, Steve.” “No.” Steve’s voice was impossibly calm. “Don’t apologize.”
Dustin shuddered out a breath “I know we’re—” Another shaky breath, he tried to collect himself.
“…Can you…” He hated how small he sounded. “…Can you come?”
There wasn’t even half a second of hesitation. “Send me the address.” Dustin blinked, “What?” “The motel.” Steve was breathing harder now. Probably pulling on shoes. “Text me the address, I‘m on my way” The line clicked shut.
Twenty-three minutes. That’s how long it took Steve to get there and Dustin counted every one. He sat on the floor with his back against the bed, wrapped in the motel blanket. The nightmare still clung to him. Every pair of headlights outside made his heart jump. Every passing car sounded wrong. His phone buzzed.
Stevie: Outside.
Dustin stood too quickly, his knees nearly buckled while he crossed the room as fast as he could and opened the door. Steve stood beneath the flickering motel light. Sweatpants. An old Hawkins High hoodie pulled on inside out. One sock had cartoon dinosaurs, the other was plain black. His hair looked like he’d run both hands through it the entire drive over. He must have dressed in complete darkness. He hadn’t even noticed.
The second Steve saw Dustin he moved straight across the little walkway, right into him. Wrapping both arms around Dustin before either of them spoke. Dustin made a sound that was somewhere between a sob and relief. His knees gave out but Steve caught all of him. Always holding him upright without effort.
“It’s okay.” Steve whispered into his hair. “I’ve got you.”
Dustin clung to him, hands fisted desperately in Steve’s hoodie. His breathing was still uneven.
“I thought…” He couldn’t finish.
“I know, baby” Steve rubbed one hand slowly up and down his back. “I know.”
They stood there for a long time. The motel parking lot was completely empty. The world had shrunk to one pool of yellow light. Finally… Dustin looked up. Eyes swollen, voice barely audible.
“…You came.” Steve frowned. Not offended but simply bewildered.
“Dustin.” He brushed damp curls away from Dustin’s forehead. “You called.”
As though that explained everything. As though it always would.
They ended up sitting against the headboard together. The motel lamp cast soft light across the room. Neither of them had mentioned the fight at least not yet. Steve just held Dustin’s hand. Thumb drawing absentminded circles over his knuckles. Dustin hadn’t let go since opening the door.
“I’m sorry.” He whispered eventually. Steve sighed, “No.” Dustin shook his head and looked down. “I left angry and I almost didn’t call.” That got Steve’s attention. He turned fully toward him. “What?” “I kept thinking…” Dustin swallowed. “…that I didn’t have the right.” Steve just stared at him. “The right? What are you talking about, baby?” “We were fighting.” “So?” “I thought maybe…” Dustin laughed weakly. “…maybe you wouldn’t want to hear from me.”
Steve looked at him for several seconds. Then very gently he reached up and placed both hands on either side of Dustin’s face. “I need you to listen to me.” Dustin nodded. “If we are arguing…” Steve said carefully. “If we are furious with each other… If one of us needs space…” He smiled sadly. “If you ever call me because you’re scared…” His thumbs brushed beneath Dustin’s eyes. “…I am coming.” Dustin’s lower lip trembled.
“I don’t care what we said an hour before. I don’t care whose turn it is to apologize. I don’t care if we’re in the middle of the worst fight we’ve ever had.” Steve leaned their foreheads together. “You never have to earn me showing up.”
The tears came all over again. Steve wrapped him into another hug, holding him tightly against his chest. He pressed a kiss to Dustin’s temple.
“I love you when we’re arguing.” Another kiss. “I love you when you’re stubborn. I especially love you when you’re impossible.” A watery laugh escaped Dustin.
“There it is.” Steve murmured. “My favorite sound.”
Dustin hid his face against Steve’s neck. “I’m still mad.” He whispered in fake bravado. “…You?” Steve let out a deep sigh before answering “Absolutely.” Another pause. “And we’re still going to finish the argument tomorrow.” Dustin nodded immediately. “We are.”
“…Okay.”
“…Okay.”
Neither of them moved until eventually Steve reached toward the nightstand and pulled the extra blanket over both of them. Dustin curled instinctively against his side, just like he always did. The fight still existed. Nothing had been magically solved.
Tomorrow they would talk, tomorrow they would apologize, tomorrow they would listen better. But tonight… Tonight was about the simple, unwavering promise that had quietly made itself known.
If one of them called, the other came. Every time.