abyssal808 - Tumblr blog

abyssal808 · 18 days ago

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It starts with the wavy haired brunette he'd spent half of junior year crushing on. It's been almost 3 years since then, but Samatha Birch is still as pretty as Keith remembers. Her bright blue eyes slant up ever so slightly, button nose dotted here and there with freckles. There's still that honeylemon scent clinging to her clothes.

They've spoken only once, because she'd dropped her lipstick in their shared history class and tapped his shoulder when it rolled under his seat.

"Grab my lipstick for me love?"

Keith could smell the watermelon from her breath at the time, a product of the gum she'd spent the entire class chewing. He still smells it now, as she taps her nails impatiently on the counter, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance while he tries his best to be quick with her tapes.

Keith's dropped them once already, a slight tremor in his hands due to the intensity of those bright eyes. And as he watches one slip past his slippery fingers yet again, he knows he isn't getting away with it this time.

"Seriously Kevin? Is it that hard to told onto something?"

Keith knows she can see his name tag, that the wrong name was entirely on purpose. But he apologizes anyways, hands her the tapes without any other fumbles.

"Sorry. Um' you look nice today Sam."

Keith's not sure why he says that, but it slips out on its own. She's clearly in a bad mood and girls like that aren't supposed to give guys like him the time of day. He knows it was the wrong move the moment her bubblegum lipgloss wraps around a sneer.

"Ew."

Is all Samatha Birch says before turning to leave.

And really Keith shouldn't be surprised, shouldn't even be upset. It's not like graduating high school means there aren't social laws in place for these kind of interactions. Still the sound of the store bell feels a little heavy on his eardrums as he watches the door close behind Sam's back.

"Huh. What a bitch."

The words are a perfect reflection of Keith's subconscious, a thought hidden behind the resignation high school has drilled into him. But Steve fucking Harrington who was well above all the wounds of that hellhole, naturally has no issue voicing it.

Keith lets irritation settle on his brows, pretends he doesn't feel a sliver of thanks for hearing someone say what he'd been thinking. Instead he turns around, takes one look at Steve– the type of guy Samantha definitely would not consider disgusting.

Steve doesn't look smug like Keith expects, instead his brows are pinched, lips downturned ever so slightly as he glares at the door. He supposes it should feel nice to have someone on his side at the moment, but Keith doesn't really want the King's pity. Not when he knows for a fact that the guy has probably done worse.

"You gonna just stand there or rewind those tapes?" He bites, and leaves before Steve can say anything else.

It's pretty fucking frustrating that Steve Harrington is so hard to hate.

Seriously, Keith knows that he's a spiteful guy, that finding someone irritating shouldn't be all this difficult for him. Especially someone who stood around with a metaphorical crown while his goonies went around terrorizing helpless teens. He'd kinda wondered what on earth had gotten Robin of all people–equally cynical if their brief band friendship had meant anything–to hang aroung with a guy like that. He's sorta still waiting for that duo to blow up spectacularly so he can pull up with an 'aHA, called it.'

But Steve Harrington isn't terrible. Terribly uncultured yes, but not terrible. He takes most of his shift with Robin so Keith rarely has to be stuck alone with him. But on the rare days they're together, all the guy does is lean against the counter and browse through some of their displayed magazines when there's nothing to do. They don't talk a lot and those shifts are often slower, but when they do it goes a lot better than whatever the hell Keith expects.

It's still relatively impersonal, and Keith has enough ingrained anger to still get very snappy after Steve Harrington gets a new number added to his collection, or another name for his friday night calendar.

It's unfair as hell, but he still can't properly hate the guy. Not when said guy mumbles the snarkiest and admittedly funniest shit under his breath after dealing with difficult customers. Not when his brows dip in intense concentration whenever Keith pointedly retells the difference between Star wars and Star trek.

And definitely not when Samantha comes back a few weeks later, twirling her wavy hair flirtatiously around her fingers, and Steve calls her a different name each time he addresses her. Each name is more off-target than the last, and when Steve waves her out with a 'Come again Marlene' Sam looks positively livid as she slams the door shut on her way out.

It should suck completely, in fact he should hate the idea of Steve-the hair-Harrigton doing anything for his sake. But when Steve pulls away from the counter with Sam's returns and sends a stupid looking wink in his direction, Keith actually snorts.

It irritating that he can't hate Steve Harrington, but even worse that he actually starts to like the guy.

It's why he does the unthinkable and actually lets Steve Harrington talk him into this bullshit.

"No no no" Steve Harrington is saying as he climbs back over the counter.

"I said look unbothered, not constipated. And lean on your left dude, that's your better side."

To demonstrate, Steve braces his right side against the counter, body angled slightly so he's still facing forward a bit. True to his instructions, his body is relaxes, eyelids drooping with boredom for a second before snapping back into focus.

"See? Like that. Except I get to lean on my right cause that's my better angle." He pushes himself off and vaults over the counter again, leaving the space open for Keith.

"Okay let's go again. And this time try to sound like you aren't being held at gun point okay?"

Steve Harrington backs up to the door, takes in a breath and walks back to the counter. There's a smile on his face when he leans forward on the counter, voice a higher register as he tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.

"Hey Keith."

It's so so stupid. This whole thing.

And Keith doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry. Because Steve Harrington of all people, is pretending to be a chick, just so Keith can practice talking to the girl he's sort of crushing hard on right now. It's a combination of hilarious, pathetic and bizzare. But apprently this is his life now.

So Keith coughs, leans on his left side like Steve had showed him, tries to look bored and shifts his free hand through his significantly less luscious hair.

"Sup Edith." He says and cringes internally at how dumb he sounds. "Um. What can I do for you?"

Steve stares at him, eyes piercing like he's scoring Keith on some mental rubric, which is probably exactly what he's doing. A moment passes then he nods.

"Needs some work but we're making progress. Okay next thing."

Then he's talking about the best ways to slip in compliments and Keith honestly kinda just wants to die.

But it's not the worst thing. Goofing off with Harrington like this.

By some twisted miracle, Edith does say yes to a movie. She's the kind of girl who keeps her eyes down, mumbles a lot under her breath but actually has a lot of great opinions. She's not shy per say, just doesn't enjoy expending energy on people (her words). She's super cute too. At first Keith thinks she just doesn't know it, but Steve had shaken his head when he mentioned the theory.

"Nah she definitely knows it dude. She's just mastered the art of using it without coming off as vain."

And when Keith had told him he could learn from her, he'd gotten one of those noogies he absolutely despised. Threatened to fire Steve when he'd let out a cheeky 'awee so you think I'm cute.'

Needless to say, he gets a date and sort of kinda has Steve Harrington to thank for it.

Which is why he's doing this. Whatever the fuck this is. Payment for the date? An act of kindness? Keith doesn't know. But he's got two tickets to some show/competition in Indianapolis that his cousin had pawned off of someone before deciding he didn't want it anymore. It's for some band that Keith knows for a fact Steve doesn't listen to.

But he's pretty sure its the kinda shit Eddie Munson would like.

And yeah, he also doesn't know how the fuck Eddie Munson got wrapped up in all this, but the heavens must really love Steve Harrington cause it's honestly kind of funny how hard these miscallaneous as fuck tickets are to get on a regular day.

He's not sure how Steve Harrington made friends with the town freak but at this point Keith knows not to think too hard about who the guy spends time with. Between Robin and all those kids always trying to sneak out with R rated movies, he knows the guy flows with a totally different crowd now (he's not adding himself to that list just yet because denial is comfortable and he has some pride!)

But what Keith does know is that ever since that Dustin kid dragged Eddie Munson into the store to engage in a 3 way bickering session with Steve, the guy just kept coming back. And it's fine or whatever, Keith doesn't care about employees getting a little off task so long as what needs to be done is done and customers aren't forgotten. It's all just a regular case of friends bothering each other at work.

At least it was.

Before Steve Harringon helped him score a date.

Keith is kind of shocked he even picked up on it, he'd thrown that entire lesson out the window the moment it had happened, had stuttered his whole way into the first date even.

But he remembers. The store is empty and he's trying to think of a good place for a third date with Edith, and that's when the store bell rings and Steve's eyes snap up from his magazine. It's like watching a flashback, replaying movements from all those days back in crisp detail.

Steve leans on his right–his good side–schools his impression into something bored, flips a page on the magazine before running his hands through his hair.

And Keith can already imagine whatever pretty babe must have walked in. Christina maybe? with her straight dark hair and full lips. Or maybe Evelyn since she's got two overdue tapes to return and could probably take a modelling gig if she wanted to.

He's turning to verify his theory, but doesn't even get halfway before he hears the telltale greeting of none other than Eddie Munson.

"Good afternoon Stevie~"

And well– shit.

How does one even react to that?

Keith doesn't think he's like‐ against it or anything- can't imagine changing his entire view of someone just because they're into different things. It's just– how many fucking surprises can Steve Harrington possibly have. It's like they're stacked under that hair of his, popping out every once in a while to slap at Keith's worldviews and laugh at his face for it.

He probably isn't supposed to know, but now he does, and Keith isn't sure what to do with the information.

And then his cousin places those two tickets into his palm and he remembers Eddie saying something about Metal and music for his soul– the guy has too many monologues so it's hard to keep up, Keith definitely doesnt try to anyways.

So here he is now, thumb brushing over the sides of the tickets as he wonders if this is even going to do anything. If Eddie's even into Steve like that.

But it's better than nothing right?

The guy did sort of–barely–scored him a date. It's the least he could do.

"Hey Harrington." Keith says, coughs awkwardly cause he hasn't really called Steve that in a while. Steve seems to find it odd too judging from the quirk of his eyebrows.

"Harrington? What, am I in trouble?" He jokes and Keith rolls his eyes, feels relieved that Steve is at least still a little annoying.

"You know anyone that would be into a huh.." He squints at the tickets. "band battle?"

Steve frows slightly, tucks his magazine away and comes closer. "A what?"

Keith shrugs and shows him the tickets. "My cousin gave these to me. For some metal competition in Indianapolis next week. Parently it's a pretty small venue so the tickets are limited as fuck." He's not sure why he's pitching it so hard when Steve is clearly going to take them.

"Both new and rising bands like audition for it or something then hash it out on stage and for some reason people want to watch that."

But Steve isn't even listening. Keith can see the gears turning in his head as he scans the tickets over and over again.

"Shit dude is it okay if you give them away?" He says eventually, even though Keith can see the way his fingers are gripping tightly onto the slips.

"Like if they're so limited."

Keith shrugs again, thinks he's paid off all his years thinking the worst of Steve Harrington with this gesture– especially since not all of it was undeserved.

"Yeah it's whatever. My cousin didn't want it and it's not my thing so you can have it. It's that or the trash man."

It seems to put Steve's hesitation at ease, and it's clear that the dude is trying very hard not to smile– and failing tragically by the way.

"Shit okay" He says.

"Thank's man."

Steve Harrington spends the rest of his shift with the dopiest look on his face, and it's honestly only then that Keith realized that it's been ages since he saw the guy end a day with a new number or a friday night plan.

And isn't that something. Cause damn. Exactly how long has Steve Harrington been crushing on Eddie Munson?

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abyssal808 · 6 months ago

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It's Will that gives him the idea.

"we don't really celebrate father's day anymore," he had said awkwardly, "but I can't hang out anyway."

"why not?" Dustin demanded. He was gonna end up bored and alone because he didn't celebrate the holiday and everyone else had plans. he had been counting on Will to keep him company.

"I'm gonna get Jonathan a new record and I want to listen to it with him," he said.

"can't he get his own records? C'mon, we could go to the arcade or something."

"no, Dustin," his tone took on a stubborn edge that made Dustin pause. "He's my brother and I love him, and he's the only guy besides Bob who's ever even tried to look out for me. So I'm sorry but I'm gonna be busy on Sunday."

Dustin didn't argue after that but it did get him thinking which is why on Sunday morning he biked all the way over to Loch Nora and started banging on Steve's door.

"what do you want, Henderson?" Steve sighed the most dramatic put upon sigh Dustin had ever heard.

"you're not my dad--"

"wow you really are genius!"

"shut up, shut up, listen to me!"

"okay, geez, I'm listening."

"you're not my dad and I don't want you to be my dad. I don't even really want a dad! Lots of dads aren't even that great and my mom already has the single parent thing down. But you taught me how to do my hair and how to talk to girls - even though that advice sucked, I didn't need it to get Suzie at all - and you're gonna teach me how to drive--"

"woah, hey, no I never said I'd do that, wh--"

"--and you've saved my life but I think we're even because I've saved your life too."

"Henderson don't you have anything better to do than harass me in my own home?" Steve said. he was using that exasperated tone he got when he knew he wasn't keeping up with what was going on but didn't want to admit it.

"actually no I don't but I'm here for a reason," he reached into his backpack and took out the gift he clumsily wrapped with scraps of brown paper bags. He shoved it into Steve's hands. "You're basically the only adult male figure in my life. And I appreciate you."

Steve squinted at the gift and then at Dustin and at the gift again before he said fussily "is this a prank? If something gross explodes from this, I swear to god, I'll--"

"Just open it, Steve!"

"Fine, fine, keep your shirt on," Steve said and tore off the paper. He blinked and in a softer tone said, "Oh."

"I don't know if you even like making models but I know you love cars and this kit looked just like yours, so yeah."

Steve stared at the kit some more. Dustin started to fidget. It was always better to be honest with your feelings but maybe this was too much for Steve. Maybe Steve didn't like him as much as Dustin did. Steve was not as enlightened about these things as Dustin.

"I've never made a model before."

Dustin hunched his shoulders and tried not to feel stupid or hurt. He should have expected this. They weren't even related. This was probably too weird. He reached out to take the gift back.

"it's fine, I can return it, whatever."

Steve raised the kit out of Dustin's reach.

"Hey, this is mine," he said.

"you don't even like it!"

"I never said that! I'm just gonna need a dweeby little nerd to help me build it. You know anybody like that?" Steve asked, batting his eyes innocently.

"you're such a dick," Dustin grumbled, fighting back a grin.

"watch your language!"

"shut up, you're not my dad."

Steve laughed as Dustin shoved his way into the house. Hours later, after much shouting and ribbing and one incident of spilled paint, a small model of the beemer was left to dry while Steve forced Dustin to watch the baseball game on TV with him. It wasn't the worst thing ever, and after Steve mentioned the statistics involved, it got way more interesting ("of course you'd like the math part, you weirdo" "you don't understand the stats do you" "shut up and watch the game, Henderson"). When the paint was dry, Dustin followed Steve upstairs and watched him carefully and deliberately place the model between a couple of sports trophies.

"yeah, I guess it looks pretty cool," Steve said with exaggerated nonchalance. "Now beat it, kid. your mom's gonna freak if you're not home when she gets back from work."

"can you give me a ride?"

"ugh, fine."

Dustin grinned. This had been, hands down, the best father's day ever. From the look on Steve's face when he placed the model, Dustin was pretty sure he agreed.

#screaming crying throwing up #etc

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