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cckaisen · 8 months ago

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୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓡 𝓕𝓤𝓒𝓚𝓔𝓡, sukuna ryomen !

boyfriend’s older brother!sukuna. while little bro yuji spits up his liquor in the bathroom, sukuna takes care of his girl, finally fucking her like she deserves.

ಇ. summary. sukuna brother au, fem reader, infidelity, yuji throws up so emeto. warning, manipulation, pussy slapping, biting, some predator/prey elements, size kink, dumbification, squirting, reader is intoxicated but aware, rough kuna but he switches up:3, regret/moral conflict, angst towards the end cuz ‘m a certified yapper. wc, 4.6k.

ಇ. note. been a whore for sukuna lately but i fully blame gege for drawing him so majestic. if evil then why gorgeous, hm??? we’re onto u gege. we know u love a felon. confess already.

the door to the itadori household bursts open and in floods a typhoon of drunken chaos and laughter.

drowning in giggles, yuji has his arm thrown over your aching shoulders, humming along to some kind of song. without you, he wouldn't be upright—a jumbling, intoxicated mess.

you're mostly sober, fighting to get him to the bathroom since he was heaving in the taxi.

"whyyy do ya build me upp~" he slurs, a bumbling flurried version of himself, smothering your cheek in wet kisses that have you wriggling away. "butterrrcuppp baby, jus' t'let me downnn...!"

"yuji!" you shriek, the weight of him growing more unbearable as you try to keep him up. his breath is drenched with the heavy scent of liquor. "baby, y'gotta focus or we're not gonna make it to the—"

"—and mess m'rounddd!"

"yuji—'nuff!" you groan loudly as he drapes himself over. at this rate, you might just collapse into a heap on the floor, overcome by his weight as well as the lesser, still relevant amount of alcohol you consumed at the club.

suddenly, the patter of footsteps have you perking up. sukuna—yuji's big brother—rounds the corner, gaunt features sharp with agitation. he must've woken up when the two of you came barreling in.

"sukuna—hi," you can't help the relief that bursts through your chest, evident in the way you exhale.

sukuna notes the way your knees tremble, his brother blabbering embarrassingly on top of you. he puts aside the urge to laugh, figuring he'd spare you just this once.

"here. i got 'im." without any trouble, sukuna drags his little brother under his arm, putting your strength to shame. with the weight lifted, you finally have chance to relax, rolling your arm and letting out a loud sigh of relief.

"thank you. ow—pain."

you stumble, and the broader of the two brothers chuckles, crimson gaze soaking up your body in that dress while you're distracted. "you carried him all the way home?"

"mhm. practically sprawled out on my lap in the taxi. the driver and i had to team up to get him outta there," you whine as you kick off your heels. those stupid things had you wincing terribly most of the night. yuji said they were sexy. as much as you love him, you’re more than sure you will not be wearing them again anytime soon.

"you should've called me." sukuna's features scrunch in disgust as yuji keeps singing in his hold.

"i-i-i neeeeed youu~"

"fuckin' a, did he drink the whole bar?"

"pretty much," you reply, shrugging off your coat and following behind the pair of brothers. yuji looks so funny, almost small despite his lean stature, looking deceivingly short compared to sukuna. "he made a bet with todo and lost."

the sober man grunts as he knocks open the bathroom door, holding up yuji in his other arm. his muscles flex underneath his shirt, stretching the dark cotton, where your eyes briefly linger.

you avert your attention to yuji instead, amusement melting into concern for your boyfriend.

not sharing the same sentiment, sukuna drops him down by the toilet, putting up the lid with a smack and purposely shoving yuji's head into the bowl a little harder than necessary. "theree ya go, dumbass," sukuna grunts, slapping his back as he finally pukes up. "just barely made it."

and you're sure glad he did, thanking the gods your dress had been spared amidst the drama. with the way he'd been acting, you were never sure that you would be safe from the bile climbing his throat, cringing fearfully at times.

you feel much better now that sukuna has taken over. he's older, well-versed in trivial matters like this. yuji's already told you all about his university days, the drunken nights, the fighting—

you curse your thoughts for sprawling so suddenly, shooing off your rodent-like curiosity.

their relationship struggled at times. especially so back then, but things are different now. and as much as sukuna pretends not to care for his little brother, he clearly does, at least a little. after all, the pink tresses of your boyfriends hair are ruffled in his thick hand before he lets go fully.

then sukuna walks on in a rugged stride, leaving yuji to it. on the way out, he knocks your shoulder with his. you can't tell if the action was playful, but you’re sure it wasn't hostile, at least. a little smile creeps onto your lips as your gaze follows him into the kitchen.

sukuna is weird.

he's weird because he's not like yuji in most ways; it's not necessarily a bad thing, but he's much, much harder to see through. with your boyfriend, most things are crystal clear. you can tell what he wants, what he needs, how he needs it. he'll tell you all about it—unselfishly, of course.

however, sukuna, you find, never reads so easily. and it's weird. you can't tell if you prefer it that way, or if you'd rather know what he's thinking.

especially since you're certain you just caught his eyes slithering along your curves.

anyway.

wanting to give yuji some privacy, you pull the door shut, the sound of his gags growing muffled. you half-jog-half-limp to the kitchen, preparing a glass of cold water to ease his throat once it's all over.

unbothered, sukuna leans his back against the counter, scrolling on his phone like this is just another night to him. it's weird.

you start wondering, drawing up the conclusion that this might be first time you and him have ever been alone, in a way. yuji is there, but not really, if you know what i mean. not mentally, anyway.

before you can finish that thought, you deliver the glass to yuji, crouching down to his level and rubbing his back with careful affection. "got you some water, baby. right here, by your hand." you take it gently, guiding it towards the glass.

he's not throwing up so much now, just laying there, waiting for the next wave of nausea to crash over him. his fingers respond to the glass, wrapping around it. "thanks, hic—y're so good t'me..."

you smile warmly, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek. you couldn't care less that he reeks of all kinds of concoctions and puke all rolled up together, wanting to be there for him regardless as you know he would for you.

you whisper a few more reassuring words to him before taking your leave, giving him some time to recover by himself. the bathroom door clicks shut. forgetting all about the third party, you let your back press against it, head jilting as a sigh slips out.

"he worn ya down that much?" sukuna snorts at the display, looking up from his phone.

despite your initial surprise, you laugh too. "he doesn't usually. it's just... been a busy night, i guess. i think he'll pass out in there."

sukuna briefly dips his head into the fridge, getting out a chartreuse-tinted bottle of something. "one would hope. you want one?"

"you're being weirdly nice." you blurt suspiciously, smirking. oh god. maybe the alcohol was starting to work you over, too, because you definitely weren't supposed to say that. sometimes it's better not to ask, someone told you once.

sukuna pulls a face that makes you wish you could crawl out of your skin on command, even though there's technically logic behind your last words.

"am i usually mean?"

"n-no, i just mean—" fuck, stop talking. with growing embarrassment, you shake your head, "nothing. sorry. that was assumptive."

the way you initially scrambled to answer appealed to some wicked humor in him as he laughed. "yeah, it was. so yes or no?"

"yes," you sigh, shoulders slumping in admission, knowing you probably needed it. especially after whatever that was. your head is pounding—god, someone should put me down.

sukuna opens up your bottle with his teeth as you hop up on the counter, watching each other. all had gone quiet behind you. sukuna handed you the drink with the lid still between his teeth, venom swirling in his eyes when he saw the way yours lingered on the gesture.

slowly, you took the bottle, pressing the rim up to your lips before taking a sip. it bubbles in your mouth, sparkling on your tongue before you swallow it down. the burn is a little unpleasant, but you manage.

"any good?" sukuna asks.

"'s okay," you shrug, reading the bottle, pretending like any of it made sense. "a little bitter."

"you like 'em sweet?" the taller man frowns, sorting through the cupboards for something that you're too immersed to ask about.

"kinda. but too much makes me sick," you explain, scrunching your nose at the thought. "i like a balance."

"oh, really?" sukuna snorts as if you've just said the funniest thing in the world.

in one confused motion, you lower your brows. and jilt your head, wondering what's with the sudden jest. "yeah, uh... is that funny?"

sukuna raises his brows, shaking his head, some glasses clinking. "no, not funny. nothin's funny."

he really knows how to make a person feel small, you'd give him that much.

you avert your gaze, heart crawling up into your cheeks. "okay, well..."

"what about you?" he interjects, sparking up another tiny bit of annoyance in you again. not that you knew what you were gonna say anyways. it most likely would've been embarrassing anyway, making you shrink even more, wanting yuji to come out already—

"what about me?" you wonder, your voice meeker than before. curious and cautious, tip-toeing around his words. is there something you're hiding?

"are you the sticking-around or screwing-around type?"

"oh, right," you laugh, making sense of his question. it's big one, though. kind of sprung on you. still, you manage to respond, just telling him what you know while glowing with intoxication, "well, we've only been going out a couple months."

you're more focused on the way he's watching you than you are on actually answering. his eyes are sharp and torrid in comparison to his little brother's, and the way he gazes down rather than looks at you has something in you stirring, writihing hotly beneath your skin.

it's exciting. why is it exciting? there's a giddiness that gyres in the pit of your gut like a ballerina, pirouettes and grands jetés, heat cooking and simmering through your veins. it's terrible. it's weird.

"well, you can't blame me for being protective." sukuna shrugs. "he seems to really like you."

while what he's saying rings true, there's a chord slightly off-key, something askew that you can't place. is he closer than before?

you ignore it, trying on a smile. "well, feeling's mutual."

you take another sip from the bottle, the cool rim settling on your lips, sparks igniting on your tongue, the same routine replaying. you don't even think before adding gleefully, "and he's like, a jazillion times more sane than my last boyfriend, so i'm happy."

"are you?" sukuna asks, serious.

it was like flipping a switch. he was laughing, now he's earnest, and you were just entirely confused, his meaning lost on you, like you're the last in line in a game of chinese whispers. he caught you off guard with that one. and he knows it, too, carmine eyes feasting on your discomfort.

your smile falters slightly before you nod. "yeah."

"okay." he just says.

now you were really starting to get pissed off with him. whatever he's doing, it's stupid. he might as well have you cornered, except you've done nothing wrong, and yet he's prancing around you with a tone of prolific doubt. as if he knows something about you that you yourself don't.

"what?" you demand, equally serious now, smile wiped clean off. the air turns thick.

sukuna shrugs his shoulders again and you swear you have to fight off a sneer. "nothing."

is he casting doubt on your love for yuji? is that what this is? is he trying to tell you you're not good enough for him? that even though you trudged half a mile in those huge stupid heels just because he said they looked hot on you—carrying his dead weight, might i add, as he was screeching a song you'd never heard in your ear—that all of that was just for laughs, and there were no real feelings behind those actions? is that seriously what he's getting at?

sukuna wants to laugh so bad. your face is all screwed up, cheeks puffed out and burning a deep red. oh, how it fuels him. your stubbornness, that endearing naivety that clings to you like all your modest perfumes, the one that lingers in yuji's room, occasionally in his clothes, infecting every dark corner of his mind—and now you know how it feels to be tortured by him.

"you want some water?" the man asks casually. your mind is on fire, your thoughts more blaring than you would probably think. it's written all over you.

his question makes your shoulders drop, feeling stupid all over again. what are you getting so worked up for? you're secure in your feelings for yuji. as his brother, sukuna has every right to feel concern for him. there really is no need for you to be acting like this.

he's playing you like a damn flute.

"yes, please." you answer a lot more softly, pulling your hair around to one side. you'd been bratty without cause, assumptive, again. you really need to stop mischaracterizing him. after all, he's no monster. "i think all the drinks are finally getting to my head a little."

he starts filling up a glass, grinning at you over his shoulder, mischief playing in his slanted-eyes. "oh, don't tell me you were expecting anything bottled. tap's the best y're gonna get from us. hope you can handle it."

a smile works onto your lips as you finally start to loosen up again, legs swinging gently off the side of the counter. playing along, you wince. "oh yeah, well, i usually only drink expensive, you know, mineral-rich—"

"yeah."

he's suddenly between your legs, his mouth devouring your own, swallowing the terrified noise that begs to escape. for a moment, you're frozen in shock, eyes widening as you palms meet his chest in a forceful attempt at creating space.

sukuna juts back, forced away from you. his eyes crack open but are still like slits, dark, crawling with lust you hadn't previously noticed—no, acknowledged, because the choice has always been there.

he relishes in the terror that brims in your eyes at his visceral kiss. it feels natural, but not in the tender, motherly sense. like predator devouring prey. the natural order of life.

his hands are hot, gripping onto your thighs, digging into the tights he could easily rip to shreds, giving him full access to your warm cunt, to ruin you.

and yet he doesn't.

he waits for your eyes to droop, for you to lunge at him, accepting this twisted spiral of events, indulging his darkness. teeth clicking, tongues meeting messily in a sloppy kiss, drool gathering between you both as you crash together all at once, a train wreck of carnality. sukuna's hands are all over you, groping, slashing at the crotch of your tights. you gasp into his mouth as cold air meets the sobbing wetness of your cunt, followed by a slap to it.

"f-fuck! hey, who said you could—hmff!" you yelp as his hand clamps over your mouth suddenly, his scarlet eyes narrowing.

"brat, watch ya fuckin' mouth." sukuna warns as you grapple with him. his tattoos look especially menacing then, chiseling his features. "he's drunk. not deaf."

you nod, trying to tell him you understand. he releases your lips in an instant only to seize them again in his so forcefully.

yuji would never—could never take you like this, and you fucking know it. you know it with every gnaw, every squash of your tits that leaves you whining like a bitch in heat, every bite against your neck where you can feel the outline of his brother's teeth and a short gush of crimson.

rationality is lost on you as you mindlessly rut against him, your hands running up and down his back until you start tugging on his pants, eager to rid him of them.

meanwhile, sukuna's making a meal out of you—you make up half of his size, giving him complete control to do as ever he pleases.

every whine is met with a grunt. his cock must have been freed at some point as you feel his greedy hands lift you against him, your chests meeting, the sharp cold of the counter leaving your ass and feeling his palms spread you apart instead.

nothing could prepare you for the suddenness of which he fills you—you scream, half openly, half having shoved your face into his shoulder—aware his brother, your lover, is passed out over the toilet in the other room.

"shh, shh—fuckin' shit!" sukuna groans, features curling in erotic bliss.

he gluts you in ways yuji never has, the ways he'll never dare—with such cruel, carnal demand, to the brim, unkind, violent, and so, so fucking good.

as he breaches your womb, you claw his back raw through his shirt. a sob rips through you. sukuna does his best to keep you quiet. "shh... fuck. yer so fuckin' tight, girl. relax."

"t-tryin'... 'm so full..." you whine, eyes misting over with tears. it feels too good, you think...

"i know—" sukuna chokes, barely lifting you up on his cock, feeling your walls spasm around him. "fuck, what ya cryin' for?"

he feels too good.

"d-don't move yet, i'll cum," you gasp, and he hasn't even tried—sukuna's expression blanches.

"already?" he bursts out laughing in his brutish way, the side that yuji lacked entirely as the nicest person you've ever known; fuck. the humiliation makes your cunt squeeze again.

he lifts you up, your knees draped over his thick arms, foreheads meeting. your breaths intertwine, hot and treacherous, caressing each other's faces.

"ya know, i've fuckin' heard you, all those times."

"wh-what?" you stammer cluelessly, only half there, clinging to sukuna as he dangles you on his cock, your eyes crossing when he starts to bounce you on him.

"said i fuckin' heard you, you 'n yuji—'n shit, ya never got this loud, huh?" he smirks wickedly, feeling your body collapse hopelessly against him. he fucks you up and down on him, swallowing up your pathetic moans and whines like they were the last noise he'd ever hear. "been wanting to take ya like this, stretch yer dumb little cunt on me, fuckk—ya got no fuckin' idea, princess."

rocking up and down, you wail, head bobbing. sukuna can just see your little maw dangling open—it takes everything in him not to jam his fucking fingers in your throat until you drool and splutter around him.

"y—you wanted—this?" you struggle, feeling too good to make sense of anything, to think straight, to do anything other than take every rough kiss to your cervix, feeling your insides bruise and swell with lucid excitements.

"lemme guess, the brat cums too soon—never quite gets ya there, hm?" sukuna guesses correctly, making you whine and nod and babble.

"h-how did y—ah, fuck—!" he snapped his hips, picking up the speed as you wept on him. you'd never been fucked like this in your life, and your world was getting flipped on its head. when did your dress come down? you weren't sure—but now your tits were bouncing and sukuna wasn't gonna pass up the opportunity to tear into them.

"cuz, 's just obvious," sukuna rasps, teeth clamping down on your raised nipple, "can tell this sloppy pussy ain't gettin' treated right. not when she's—shit—creamin' all over me jus' from stickin' it in."

"'k—kuna, don't—ahh! fuck!"

"that's it girl, shit, c'mon," sukuna keeps picking you back up only to drop all your weight on his fat cock, his balls slapping against your ass, the slick you're gushing causing them to stick together.

your head is empty, devoid of anything except the chaos, the suddenness of it all, the shock, he's fucking you. your boyfriend's older brother is fucking you, and you've never felt so goddamn good.

there's this sudden wave. a wetness. an explosive feeling that crashes over you in one swift, predatory pounce. like when a deer gets suddenly ripped apart. your head straight up drops on sukuna's shoulder, and you're sobbing loudly, babbling words that can't be defined.

then all of a sudden, sukuna outright cackles; the sound bleeds into your ringing ears, head picking up off of his shoulder.

"no fuckin' way!" he roars with laughter. you wanna shush him, but you can't move—your nerve ends are all bursting to life, like fruitful grapes popping between two fingers. it's happening again, whatever that feeling is, whelming you; this time you his fingers rub back and forth harshly across your clit, but wait—

"dumb lil pussy's squirtin' already, hahh, shit—fuckin' christ, girl—" he's enamored, watching you cum in adorable little spurts, soaking his clothes, your tights, and the kitchen floor, covering everything in your stupid juices.

"you wanted this, goddamn—look at you."

your eyes are rolled back as he kisses you again, fingers tearing into your scalp, the lewd sound of your lips smacking together filling the air.

never in your fucking life. you'd never came like that, so violently, so carelessly, not without really, really trying. all sukuna had to do was pump you up and down on his cock, say a few words and you were spraying like a tap. how fucking pathetic.

and then he does it again. drags another one out of you, laughing.

you barely catch his next words.

"'m gonna fuckin' cum in ya."

"n—no—" you stumble out, barely coming to at the words, but their enough to fill you with at least some urgency. your ass is bruised at the back from being repeatedly slammed against the counter, the wind knocked out of you entirely. "d-don't, wait, you can't—"

"why the fuck not, hah?" sukuna rumbles. "don't tell me it's cuz'a—"

"—yuji," you sob.

it hits you. it hits you then, hard, at the worst time. a gut-punch, one that makes you heave. in less than half a second, a guilt strong enough to set your skin alight cultivates and wrecks each single sense. his cologne invades your nostrils, an imaginary sensation, forced to breathe its natural, tender nature as opposed to sukuna's harsh and crude and brooding one, the one you're drowning in. the one sticking to your skin.

your hand—finally letting go of sukuna's shoulder, where you were keeping yourself stable—slaps over your mouth, tears springing into your eyes.

"f—fuck, fuck, fuck!" sukuna chants, eyes scrunching as he gets lost in the pleasure. he's pounding you, knocking your eyes back still, not slowing his pace for anything. your leg flails once, but how can you fight when he's holding you up like this?

"'s—'kuna," you choke out brokenly, slapping his chest with whatever strength you can muster. your lip quivers, heart aching in your chest as you plead tearfully, "don't."

he'd never been considerate. he'd never 'made love'. not even now. he fucked. he lied, he slipped off condoms, he 'forgot' to pull out, all so many times before. it was clockwork to him. he could've easily done it again. lied. been selfish. blurred the lines. cheated consent.

put a baby in his little brother's whore girlfriend.

and yet sukuna weirdly found himself pulling out of you last second, one hand holding you up while the other jerked his cock until thick ropes of cum splattered up your dress with a strained grunt. his orgasm spoils at it hits, a rough ecstasy that's tattered along the edges and ultimately, ultimately unsatisfying. it barely scratches the surface. the heat of it hasn't even started leaving his body before he wants more, regrets not filling you up, every cell inside him clawing for it, starved and fucking addicted.

sukuna almost, almost crushes you against the island, dropping you on the counter again where your drenched cunt feels like it's been electrocuted when met with the cold so suddenly. you gasp, arching into him, searching for any kind of warmth.

but he rips away from you, turning his back. his touch is gone as soon as it came. any desire flatlines, ringing loudly, blaring in your sensitive ears. alarm bells.

what is this?

both your chests are heaving. there's no afterglow. it's messy, dirty, frantic. cheap. depraved.

and it seems like you aren't the only one.

"s-sukuna, i—"

CLICK.

lips snapping shut, you sit right up, head whipping around in the most deafeningly guilty sense ever. heart in your throat, your expression echoes one of pure horror, one you expect will reflect your boyfriend's when he realizes what's going on here.

yuji stumbles out of the bathroom, his mop of pink hair tousled and eyelids low. he hangs by the doorframe for several seconds, his head dropped, not even looking up. it takes only a few steps. they're slow, clumsy, lead him to the bedroom door. he doesn't notice. he doesn't notice.

his older brother and his girlfriend are feet away, covered in squirt and sperm and other dirty secrets. shame. guilt. some more than others.

and he just blunders into the bedroom, a loud 'thump', telling you that he made it to bed.

all you do is stare. your jaw stays slack.

you hear a zipper and, frazzled, quickly flit your head at sukuna. he's fixing his clothes, not paying you any mind.

you stare at his back, despairing.

"wh—you're just gonna...?" you stammer incredulously, trying to do the same but there's no fixing the gaping hole in your tights that reaches down to your mid thighs.

away from his gaze, him cum settles against the fabric of your torn up dress, pooling slowly in its place.

his cock, hardly soft, twitches again, urging his need. he ends up frozen for a moment, simply staring, before he numbly moves forward.

he leaves, leaving you sat on the counter as he storms out into the night, slamming the front door behind him.

you're alone there, stunned, cum up your dress that is almost but not quite your boyfriend's, the floor below you soaked, and a heartbeat in every part of your body.

trembling, you push yourself off of the counter.

vaguely aware of the layout of the house, you scramble to find some wipes and clean up the mess on the floor. after that, it takes at least 10 minutes to get the semen out of your dress, but even then, you feel filthy.

you sniffle over the sink, scrubbing soapy suds into your tainted skin. wanting to throw up.

what the fuck had you done?

you'd cheated. that's it. you cheated on the sweetest angel, your angel, yuji. the one entirely too gentle and trusting for this world. you betrayed him. a sob rips through you, shattering your core.

stupid, stupid, stupid.

as you sneak back into bed, fingers still shaking as they turn the handle to yuji's room, you don't even have the energy to change your clothes. you simply crawl into bed, too crushed to face him, not garnering the strength, knowing what you'd done. a tear slips down your cheek.

because you can't even regret it.

and before you know it, yuji's draping himself over you, his arms, pulling you against the haven of his chest, sighing against your neck.

"you made it..." he mumbles.

oh, how you want to sob when he says such a thing. "yeah," you nod, trying to suppress the break in your voice, "yeah, i'm here."

yuji grunts happily, snuggling you closer. "mmh, good."

you don't think you will ever forgive yourself.

"i love you." yuji says, blind to the truth.

but you swear it's not one-sided. "i love you," you admit, beginning to cry softly in his arms, wondering if it will be the last time you ever get the liberty of doing so again.

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withlovewriting · 6 days ago

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All I Ever Knew, Only You 19: A Long, Hot Summer

Move like a typhoon, I'm just a flame, Smokey by nature, charmingly sane, See Golden Empires, Queens burning sage, Boys with their desires, Hearts in a cage, Please don't be in love with someone else, Please don't be in love with someone, Love with someone else

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 7,640

Chapter Warnings: Forced proximity, a little bit of physical touching but nothing sexual, conversations about the death of a minor/trauma, aquaphobia, Billy Hargrove makes a return, explicit language. I think that's it.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: COMING SOON

Taglist: @kezibear

Chapter Nineteen: A Long, Hot Summer

The intense heat only worsened as the summer of June ‘85 pushed forward. The scorching temperatures soared, the air thick with humidity, and you were sure you could fry an egg on the sidewalk.

Whilst you did have an old, slightly decrepit window air conditioning unit, it was barely hanging on, and you weren’t sure it would survive the rest of the summer, so instead, you willingly spent more time at the arcade, where the building was kept much cooler, if only so the machines didn’t overheat and set fire.

“Hey, hit the machine again, and I’ll bounce your head off it so hard that it cracks… And I don’t mean the screen.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to threaten children, Andy.” You sighed, leaning against the counter as the boy stood next to you, baseball cap in his hand as he fanned it in front of his face.

Turning to you, the boy cocked a brow, his face otherwise remaining stoic, “And I don’t think I care. The little shits break those machines, it comes out of our paychecks.”

Ignoring him, you lifted one of many fliers that Keith had been sent around town to collect, advertising the new arcade in Star Court, waving it in front of you, copying the boy’s motions in an attempt to cool yourself down a little, “Is it just me, or is it ungodly hot in here?”

“It’s ungodly hot everywhere,” Andy began, and without seeing him you could sense the roll of his eyes,

“Yeah, I know that. But… It’s weirdly hot in here today. It was warmer yesterday but it didn’t seem this hot inside.”

The hot summer months always came with a few trivial issues, but today the machines had cut out once or twice, causing the already overheated kids to complain, moaning until you opened the machine and fetched their quarter, allowing them to restart their game.

The Slushee machine had been used non-stop, but the clunking noises it had been making for the last 10 minutes had made both Andy and yourself reluctant to use it.

“Jesus, who gives a shit-”

“Hey, man. How’s it going?”

The boy, Patrick, was on the basketball team with Andy, and although he seemingly lowered his standards enough to hang around with the goon and his gaggle of idiots, he didn’t seem as bad as Jason and the rest of the jocks. Whilst he had never caused or started any issues with other students, he had always been around when it happened and he’d never stepped in and stopped it. Always remained quiet in the background. Whilst it didn’t make him a bully, it did make him a coward.

“It’s hot as shit, and I’m stuck in this fuckin’ place, and she won’t shut the fuck up.”

You sent a glare toward Andy, a scoff falling from your lips as you continued to fan yourself, “Yeah, and you’re so delightful to be around,”

“What time do you finish?”

“Closing,” the boy huffed, arms folded over his chest as he glanced around the darkened room, “You know what, I’m taking an early lunch.”

Although it was typical for Andy to leave you in the lurch during the busiest time of day, you didn’t care enough to fight him on it, and when he came back, you’d take your own lunch and he could enjoy a taste of his own medicine. Andy made his way to the back room, most likely going to grab his wallet and clock out for lunch, but the sudden beeping from the Slushee machine caught your attention, a loud whirling noise before it stopped altogether, followed by a bang, which caused you to rush toward it a little too late, as red and blue slush began to leak all over the floor.

“Shit, shit shit!”

“Has it done this before?” The somewhat familiar voice spoke behind you as Patrick bent down next to you, a roll of paper towels in his hand as he passed some your way and tried to mop up the rest, despite it still dripping from the machine.

“I don’t think so, but the machines old as shit and-”

You were interrupted by another loud bang, and the large room was suddenly surrounded in darkness as only minimal light peeked through the large, blacked-out windows. The noise around you, although now lacking the usual hum of electronics and background noise of the games, was replaced with a shrill scream, and an eruption of shouting as what had happened caught up with everyone.

“It might be the breaker, probably overloaded in the heat. You know where it is?” You nodded, and Patrick continued, “You go look, I’ll stay and clean this up.”

Noting your apprehension, Patrick sent you a small, genuine smile, “Go, it’s fine. I got this.”

Pushing yourself up, you stepped forward before finding yourself on your back, sneaker slipping on the melting iced drink and sending you crashing back to the floor.

“Holy shit, that was hilarious.”

Another familiar voice, this time, the large grin was met with a vicious glare, but it was Patrick who spoke to his friend, “Andy, shut up. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged him off, allowing him to help you sit back up, navy work shirt now sticking to you, you turned your attention back to your co-worker, “You can’t leave right now. We gotta get this shit cleared up, and get everyone out. I need to ring-”

“Hey, everyone, get the fuck out, now!” Andy’s voice barreled through the stagnant air, causing many children to flinch before finally bolting to the door, angry and confused grunts of annoyance surrounding them as Andy all but herded the groups out, turning the sign to closed before returning his attention to you,

“There, did my part. Now since it doesn’t look like we’re gonna be able to reopen today, I’m heading out. C’mon, Patrick.”

“Dude, you can’t just leave her alone with all this shit to deal with-”

“Holy crap, what’s happened?”

Despite the closed sign, and Andy all but guarding the door, Steve had managed to push his way through, eyes squinting as they slowly adjusted to the much darker room.

“Great timing, Harrington, really. See, she’s not alone. Now let's go, McKinney.”

Your features grew softer as you took in his apologetic glance, eyebrows lifting slightly as if apologizing. Sending him a tight-lipped smile, you merely nodded, “Thanks for the help.”

Patrick finally removed his hand from your shoulder, as if only just noticing it was still placed there after helping you sit up, and carefully pushed himself to his feet, “Don’t mention it. Good luck with all of... this.”

Andy’s arm swung around the boy’s shoulders, all but dragging him out, causing Steve to side-step them just to avoid the larger boy’s shoulder. His brows remained pinched as he watched the two boys go, Patrick’s head turning only once to look back in your direction.

“What the hell happened here?”

Your attention turned to Steve — who despite only being in the small arcade for less than two minutes already had a thin layer of sweat glistening over his forehead — sending a glare his way as if he was the cause of all of this, “I have no idea. I think something overheated, and broke the generator.”

Pushing yourself to your feet, you pulled at the bottom of your navy work shirt, pulling a face as the sticky Slushee mix stuck it to your skin. Steve tried his hardest to keep his eyes on your face as you rang the excess liquid out of it, but as soon as you saw his eyes drop, you tugged your shirt back down, a painful weight that traveled from your chest to the scar across your abdomen, the shame causing you to turn away quickly.

“Have you, uh… Have you called anyone?”

“Like who, Harrington? Keith has the week off, and if you think my manager won’t blame me for this-”

“C��mon, then. It can’t be that hard.” Steve shrugged before making his way to the back rooms where the circuit breaker panel was, leaving you to scramble behind after him.

“I’m sorry, where did you get your degree in electrical engineering from again? Dumbass University? You can’t just flick a few switches and magically fix this.”

Catching up to the boy, you blocked the door where the breaker was hidden away in a closet smaller than the janitor’s closet in school. If any of you had to go in there, it wouldn’t be the trigger-finger-happy Steve.

“Just wait out here, alright? Make sure nobody comes in, and do not let this door shut behind me. The handles busted and it only opens from the outside. I don’t need you wandering off and leaving me to overheat and die in here.”

“I got it, just hurry up. It’s hot as hell.”

You sent a deathly glare to the boy who was acting as though you hadn’t been sweltering in this hellhole all day, before stepping into the muggy, dark room. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust despite the room being barely enough to fit yourself, the breaker box, and a mop and bucket.

“I can’t see anything,” you grumbled, wiping at your forehead with the back of your hand before you reached forward, finally touching the machine that felt a little too hot to be safe and you prayed you wouldn’t get burned. Or electrocuted.

Unsure of what to do now you were face-to-face with the panel, you gave the side a good, hard, whack. In your defense, you had never claimed to know anything about electrical boards, either.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve’s voice was a little too squeaky to sound natural, “I don’t think that’s gonna help.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Steve. I didn’t realize you were an expert. Please, why don’t you try.”

The boy scoffed, and although your back was still facing him, he knew that your brows were pulled together, an annoyed glare that frequented your face enough that he could tell so even with his eyes closed, or in this case, in the dark.

“Well, at least I wouldn’t just hit it-”

“-Only because it would hit you back, and win,” you huffed, still a little too afraid to touch any of the wires and instead turning to focus the glare that Steve knew was there, on him.

Steve’s own brows furrowed, arms crossing over his chest, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

Taking a step forward, you continued your misplaced annoyance, but the boy turned his head slightly, a noise out front distracting him from your tirade.

“Did you hear that?” Steve asked, his ability to be so easily side-tracked only irritating you more.

“No, Steve, I didn’t. But if you think that you can-”

“Shh,” he all but hissed, head tilting slightly as he strained his hearing.

“Do not shush me, Harrington-”

The loud, sudden thud caused you to both jump, Steve panicking at your widened eyes as he stepped forward, hand covering your slightly agape mouth as he all but backed you into the small closet, the only sound around you was the soft clicking of the door as it pushed gently against Steve’s back.

“What the hell was that?” You whispered, pulling his hand away from your face.

“I’m not sure, I think-”

“I don’t mean whatever that sound was, Jack ass. I mean this,” you waved your arms around as much as the small space permitted, “I told you not to let the door close, and now we’re both stuck in here.”

Looking around, as if he could see much in the dark, Steve cursed under his breath, “I wasn’t thinking-”

“Yeah, no shit, Harrington. Could you for one-second use more than 10 percent of your-”

This time, when his hand covered your mouth, you were more than a little tempted to bite him, but the hushed voices from out front stopped you in your tracks. Part of you wanted to call out for help, but the fear that it could be a bunch of hooligan kids, who would not only leave you trapped but raid the entire place stopped you. Even worse, it could be your manager.

“Who do you think it is?” Steve’s breath was warm, but minty on your face as he tipped his head slightly to speak into your ear. You hadn’t really taken in the forced proximity between you both until now as Steve’s chest rose and fell quickly, pushing against yours with every breath, his body too warm to stand with for too long.

Whoever it was, you could hear them stumbling around in the darkened room, and if you strained your ears enough, you could hear their hushed whispers once more. So, instead of responding, you remained silent, trying to figure out if it was safe to alert them to your presence. Steve, however, assumed you were ignoring him. And Steve didn’t do well in forced, awkward silences.

“I’m sorry.”

“Hm?” You questioned, eyes darting upward to watch the boy as best you could.

“I just… I dunno, I panicked, you know? I didn’t even think about the door until it, well... shut.”

“It’s… It’s fine. It’s not your fault. It’s just been a shitty day, but I shouldn’t take that out on you. You’re just trying to help.”

“You looked pretty happy earlier, when, uh…Whatever his name was here.”

Scoffing, you attempted to cross your arms, only to be blocked by Steve’s body, “I can assure you, I am never happy around Andy.”

“I didn’t mean him,” Steve interrupted, “I know that guy is an asshole. Was on the basketball team with him for long enough. I meant the other guy, Patrick, right?”

You were glad that the closet was dark as your eyes darted toward your sneakers, instead meeting Steve’s chest that was awkwardly pressed against your own, “Uh, I don’t really know him.”

“It seemed like you knew him well enough,” Steve shrugged.

Rolling your eyes, you fruitlessly pushed the boy’s shoulder, “Well, I don’t. He only comes in when Andy’s working. I’ve barely spoken to the guy.”

A low laugh fell from Steve’s lips, his breath hitting your face as he gently pushed you back, “Yeah, well. I know that look well.”

“What look?” Pushing him back once more, despite there not being any room for either of you to fall into, “There is no look. I don’t do looks. Plus, you can’t even see me, it's dark.”

“Not you, doofus,” Steve tried to dodge your hands as they returned the gesture, “him. He was giving you the look.”

“Jesus, Harrington. There was no look, okay? So drop it.”

“Please, I know the look like the back of my hand,” Steve’s finger jabbed into the space between your ribs, causing you to jerk slightly and slap his hands away, “I get it enough.”

“Oh yeah? And how’s that working out for you?” Another shove.

Slapping your hand away once more, “We’re not talking about my love life right now-”

“Only because it’s non-existent,” both hands were raised in an attempt to shove the boy once more, but both your actions and words came to an abrupt halt when he caught your hands in his own, fingers slowly linking in an attempt to keep them pinned to your side.

Steve’s voice was low as he leaned in, and despite the darkness, you felt him practically peer into your soul.

“Believe me,” he sighed, eyes softening as they traced your face as if he were trying to memorize every detail — good, bad, and ugly — to his memory, “I know the look.”

Your tongue slid over your bottom lip, catching the boy’s attention and causing his gaze to turn glassy and his knees to turn weak.

“Steve,” you mumbled, watching as his Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes finally returning to your own as he spoke your name softly, his body pressed so tightly against your own despite the extreme heat, that you were unsure whether it was your own heart that was pounding, or his.

Leaning forward slightly, Steve’s lips parted, but the words evaporated from his tongue when the hushed voices sounded a little too loud, the busted door knob jiggling as someone tried to open the door.

A sudden gust of warm air hit Steve’s back as the door was yanked open, allowing a little light to filter in,

“Uh, are we interrupting?”

The familiar, but unexpected voice jolted the boy away from you as he took a step back, clumsily trying to avoid the feet behind him as he looked anything but inconspicuous.

“No, uh. We were, you know? And then the door, it wouldn’t… Yeah.”

Clearing your throat, you stepped out of the small closet, ignoring the raised eyebrow and slight concern coming from Max, “We got locked in trying to fix the breaker. Everything is fried with the heat. What are you guys doing here?”

“Someone,” Mike glanced toward a rather apologetic-looking Steve, “said he’d drop us at the pool. He didn’t show when he said he would, so we thought we’d find him here. And what do you know? Here he is.”

“Yeah, alright, less of the attitude, Wheeler. I get it. I’m late, sorry.”

“You can still take us, right?” Will asked, his grip tight on his swim bag.

Steve turned his attention to you, watching carefully as if waiting for something. Realizing that the moment had passed, Steve shrugged and exhaled deeply, “Yeah, fine. Whatever. Go wait by the car.”

The group took off as you slowly followed Steve through the desolate arcade, careful not to slip on the puddle of melted slush that was most likely going to remain sticky for the rest of the arcade’s existence, no matter how many times you’d mop it.

“You could come with us. Not much you can do here, anyway.”

You stood in the doorway, eyes squinting as the too-bright sun beat down in a way that felt slightly more tolerable outside, and you found yourself almost saying yes.

Instead, you folded your arms over your chest and sent the boy a strained smile, “I would but… Well, I should ring my manager.”

“I could come back? Drop off the little demons and-”

“Steve, it’s fine. Really. Go enjoy the pool. Who knows, might be your lucky day.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he began his descent toward his car, ignoring the kid's argument over who got shotgun, knowing full well that Lucas would cave and give Max his vote, “Yeah, who knows? Ring me later, alright? Let me know how you get on.”

“Sure thing, Harrington.”

His eyes remained on you as he walked backward, right up until his back collided with the side of his Beamer.

You returned El’s enthusiastic wave as the car pulled out of the parking lot before turning to reenter the arcade, hoping you could find your manager’s number in the office so you could ring from the video store next door, but the slam of a car door, followed by a shout of your name caused you to swivel back around, blocking out the sun with one hand as the person approached you.

“Patrick? What are you doing here?”

The boy wiped his hand over his forehead, a slightly flustered expression covering his face, “I, uh… I felt bad about leaving with Andy earlier. I didn’t know this was gonna happen, and if I hadn’t turned up, Andy wouldn’t have ditched you.”

You bit your tongue, both of you knowing damn well that this wasn’t the first, nor the last time Andy would leave his shift early.

“-So I thought I’d come back to help clear up.”

“Andy’ an ass, no offense. You really don’t need to cover for him,”

“I’m not,” he scratched the back of his neck, glancing toward you almost bashfully, “I came back to help you. That’s it. Promise.”

Taking a moment, you stared down the boy making him ever so slightly uncomfortable. You didn’t know Patrick all that well, but this didn’t feel like some elaborate prank that would end up with you covered in pig's blood at prom.

Pulling the door open, you stepped out of the way, ushering him in with a raised brow, “Tell, me, McKinney, how good are you with a mop?”

The sun beat down, caressing your skin as you lay out on the lounger falling in and out of sleep. The only thing stopping you from falling into a deep slumber was the occasional splashes and shrieking from the children who inhabited the pool, but you didn’t have it in you to tell them to quieten down. It was your first day off this week, and you wanted to do absolutely nothing except bask in the rays of the sun and relax.

“Hey, water stays in the pool, Mayfield.”

Steve, however, clearly had other ideas.

He’d been stressing over finding a job — one of his father's demands — and had so far been unsuccessful, but he had an interview soon, which had left him almost unbearable since, worrying himself over yet another rejection that hadn’t even happened yet.

“God, these kids are gonna age me,” Steve huffed, all but throwing himself into the lounger next to you.

Cocking a brow, you finally peeked toward the shirtless boy as he settled onto the lounger next to you, his shoulders already beginning to redden from the intense heat, “So is the sun, if you don’t put some lotion on.”

“I’m working on my tan,” Steve waved his hand dismissively, eyes hidden under his sunglasses as if he were the heartthrob of some John Hughes movie.

Throwing the bottle of lotion at him, you rolled your eyes before closing them and entirely blocking the boy from your view, “You’ll thank me when you’re 40.”

After a long, heaving, and frankly dramatic sigh, Steve eventually opened the lotion — the click of the lid causing your eyes to peek once more toward him — and began to pour the smallest amount he possibly could over his arms, “You know, most people use baby oil to get a tan, not this shit.”

“Jesus, Harrington, you sound like a middle-aged housewife. Age like a leather bag for all I care. Just do it quietly.”

Even behind the tinted glasses, you knew Steve was glaring at you, despite continuing to rub in the sunscreen.

“Can you, uh…Can you get my back?”

“Huh?” You questioned, sitting up a little on the lounger.

“Well there’s no point putting it on my front and not my back, is there?”

“I mean-”

“And I can’t reach my back, so…” Steve held out the lotion toward you, a brow slightly arched, “Can you help me, or not?”

Not.

The word felt glued to your tongue, as if no matter how much you wanted to say it, to turn him down, you couldn’t bring yourself to utter that one, simple word. Instead, you swallowed down the lump that had formed in your throat and all but snatched the bottle from him, waiting as he moved to the edge of your own chair and turned away from you, the freckles that you had only been acquainted with once before enhanced by the sun.

His sudden jolt from the cold lotion made you jump slightly, a quiet apology slipping from your lips as you willed your hands to stop trembling.

You’re pathetic, you silently berated yourself, the frown only deepening on your forehead as your hands grazed across the expanse of Steve’s back.

It took a while to fully rub the lotion in, and by the end, you felt like you had heatstroke, “All done,” your words were barely above a whisper.

“Thanks,” Steve’s smile was soft as he turned, glancing over his shoulder at you.

Steve’s throat bobbed as he turned a little more on the lounger to face you, suddenly seeming less sure of himself, “I, uh… Do you-”

“I need to wash my hands,” you stuttered, pushing yourself up too quickly and almost causing the lounger to topple under Steve’s weight as you dashed toward the sliding door.

Gripping onto the sink, you took a few deep breaths and willed yourself to calm down. The heat had clearly gotten to you, your heart all but beating out of your chest. Definitely a sign of heatstroke.

“You alright?” Steve’s voice made you jump before you fumbled for the tap, finally finding some relief from the cold water as you rinsed the oily lotion from your hands.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… The heat, you know?”

“Right, yeah of course. Do you, uh… Do you want water?” Steve asked, head already in the fridge looking for the cans of coke he’d promised the kids, fishing out a bottle of cold water at your agreement as you dried your hands.

Steve held the bottle out toward you, the droplets of water rolling over his knuckles all too distracting and it only got worse when he softly called your name, your eyes slowly making their way up his chest before finally meeting his eyes, “You sure you’re okay? You wanna lay down or something?”

You were sure you could hear the blood flowing in your ears, and you silently cursed yourself. You had seen topless guys before, hell, for however much of an asshole Billy Hargrove was, you’d seen him playing basketball, shirtless and sweaty, and still managed to keep your composure.

Snatching the bottle from his grip, you willed your voice to remain strong as you eyed the sliding door, quickly making your exit, “Jesus, I’m fine, Harrington. Stop babying me.”

You could barely hear the yelp of pain from him as a can of coke fell from his other hand, dropping onto his bare foot and rolling away, your heart pounding furiously in your chest as you felt your embarrassment overwhelm you.

This is also why you didn’t pay much attention to the wet pool deck until you found yourself sliding on it and crashing into the pool.

For a moment, time stood still. The playful shouts from the kids dulled into muted, indistinguishable noise, and it took a second for your body and brain to catch up with itself, but when it finally did, the panic began to ensue fast and hard.

Your limbs began to flail, unable to decipher which way would lead you to the safety of the water's surface as your chest began to burn, accidentally letting in a lungful of water, eyes sore and unable to make much out except the blue of the water which blended all too well with the blue of the sky.

A muffled noise from behind you barely caught your attention, but the moment Steve’s arms wrapped around you, all but dragging you to the surface, you stopped trying to fight, instead turning limp in his arms.

“Is she okay?” Max rushed forward, concern etched across her face.

“She’ll be fine. Just help me get her out.”

Steve practically dragged you up the few pool steps — your legs turning to jelly — as Max threw one of your arms over her shoulder, taking some of your weight before they placed you onto the lounger as you coughed and spluttered.

“What happened?” Lucas questioned, his soft eyes peering down at you as he handed Steve a towel, the older boy snatching it from his grip to place it over your shoulders.

“She slipped. Jesus, I told you guys to stop splashing the water everywhere, it gets slippery as shit,” Steve returned his attention to you, hands placed against your cheeks as he pushed away the remaining droplets of chlorine water with his thumbs, “You’re okay. Deep breaths, alright? Slow it down.”

It took a moment, but eventually, you were able to match Steve’s breathing, “I’m fine. I’m sorry, guys…”

“You’re shaking,” Steve mumbled, his hands rubbing the towel over the tops of your arms, trying to warm you up, despite the blazing summer sun, “Wheeler, go get her some water-”

“No, Steve. Really, I’m fine,” turning toward the kids, you kept your eyes on the ground, too embarrassed to meet their eyes, “Go back in. Have fun. We’ll be leaving soon, anyway.”

Once the gang had reluctantly returned to the pool — this time keeping their antics, and the water, confined to the pool — Steve stood, holding his hand out toward you, “C’mon, let’s get you some dry clothes.”

Despite the fact the sun would’ve dried you off in no time, you followed the boy inside, uncomfortable from the weight of your soaked denim shorts.

Steve had managed to dig out a pair of shorts and an old top for you, and once you were dried and dressed, Steve returned, finding you perched on the end of his bed with the damp towel in your hands and shame written across your face.

“So, this is the second time you’ve almost drowned in my pool. I’m starting to think it’s personal.”

Steve’s joke fell flat, and your lack of response caused him to shuffle his weight between his legs before joining you on the edge of the bed, Barb’s words from the night of his party ringing in his ears, “Why didn’t you ever learn to swim?”

“Not everyone is rich enough to have a pool in the yard,” you mumbled, allowing Steve to take the towel from you and wipe the side of your neck where a droplet of water had begun to fall.

“You know, I haven’t been in that pool since the night Barb…” Steve sighed, folding the towel just to have something to busy his hands with, before placing it on the floor by his bed, “I used to love swimming. It kinda felt like an escape, you know? I’d hold my breath and just sit on the pool floor, drown out everything that was going on around me. Probably why I ended up good enough to be captain of the swim team. And then after Barb’s death I just… Couldn’t face it.”

You knew what he was doing, even if he was unaware of it himself.

“When I was younger, I mean like… really young, my sister and I went out boating with my dad all the time. Back then, Mom was… Well, she was better. But she’s had demons in her life for as long as I can remember, and they only got worse once my Dad left. But whenever she was having a bad morning, he’d take us out on Lover’s Lake.”

Steve watched on silently as your throat bobbed, and you swallowed down the lump that was clawing its way up your throat,

“One night, they were just non-stop fighting. I don’t know what about, I was only like, 6. But my sister… She got me dressed, grabbed a blanket, and we left. She was trying to take care of me like Dad did. So we walked to the lake, untied one of the boats on the dock, and just… rowed out. Nobody else was out there, just me, her, and the quiet of the night. We weren’t given that often, you know? Peace. But that night, just for a while… That was all we had.”

“What happened?” Steve questioned, his hand capturing yours in an attempt to stop you from picking at the skin around your nails.

He knew, of course, what had happened. Or at least, the rumors that had spread around town over the years. It was common knowledge. But he didn’t care about what the town had to say about it… He cared about what you had to say.

“We were being stupid, playing around, unable to see the danger we’d got ourselves into. The boat rocked, and I fell overboard. I don’t remember much after that, but I know she didn’t hesitate to jump in after me, and that’s the only reason I’m alive, and she’s not. She managed to get me back into the boat. But the water was so cold, and I just… I never saw her again. They uh… They think she was caught in a current, and added to the shock of the cold water she just… couldn’t get herself out. If she’d just stayed in the boat, then-”

“Then you’d be dead, and she’d be here instead,” your head snapped toward Steve, his words ringing a little too familiar to your own thoughts. To your mother’s voiced opinions, “You were just kids. She jumped in to save her little sister.”

Praying the tears that were blurring your vision wouldn’t fall, you turned away from Steve, peering up at his bedroom ceiling, “My Dad left not long after. My parents were barely hanging on anyway, but… he couldn’t take it. My Mom’s drinking just got worse, and before I knew it, she was unable to hold down a job, and I was stealing from the Big Buy just to put food on the table.”

“And you never heard from your Dad again? Don’t know where he went?”

Shaking your head, you wiped away a lone tear that had managed to escape, “No. Mom wouldn’t talk about him… about either of them.”

After giving you a moment to collect yourself, Steve’s voice was soft, “I’m so sorry-”

“I don’t want your pity,” you scoffed, shoving his hand off your own, and pushing yourself to stand, despite your legs still feeling a little weak, “Shit happens to everyone.”

“It’s not pity,” Steve sighed, remaining calm as he followed you across the room, a gentle hand laying on your shoulder to turn you to face him, “I promise. When you care about someone, it’s not pity.”

The light streaming in through his window reflected in his eyes, the soft brown almost melting into specks of green, causing your icy demeanor to melt away with the summer sun. Unable to stop the tears from overflowing, you simply nodded before Steve pulled you into an embrace, his warm, sun-kissed skin still smelling of the lotion he’d applied earlier.

“I could teach you, you know? To swim.” Steve spoke quietly, almost too low that you could barely hear him over the kid’s antics from outside his bedroom window.

Shaking your head, your forehead creased, “I don’t think I could-”

“Not here,” he interrupted, peering down at you as he released you from his arms, “At the community pool. There are other people around and lifeguards, you’d be totally safe.”

“I’ll think about it,” you sighed, “But right now, I need to get those kids home.”

A few days after your second unwanted dip in the Harrington’s pool, you found yourself standing by what might’ve been the only available lounger at Hawkins Community Pool.

Steve wasn’t lying when he said there would be plenty of other people there, unfortunately, most of them were screeching children, kicking water at each other and running around, despite how many times Freddie blew his whistle to tell them to slow down, their mother’s not bothered by the dangers of the pool as the women gossiped and preened themselves, fluffing freshly dyed hair and reapplying their fuchsia lipsticks.

“C’mon, it’s really not that bad,” Steve sighed, tapping his foot impatiently on the too-hot floor, all too aware of the eyes that were staring at him, despite the sunglasses that covered them. Sometimes, you thought the sex-deprived housewives were worse than their curious teenagers.

“I don’t know, Steve. Somehow, this seems much worse.”

Steve, only slightly distracted with sending the gaggle of women a small wave, “It’s all good…”

Shoving him slightly, your knuckles began to hurt from their tight grip on your towel, “If I die because of your inability to keep it in your pants, Harrington, I swear, I’ll come back as a ghost and make your life a living hell.”

“You already do that,” Steve sent you a sarcastic smile after rolling his eyes but clambered into the pool regardless, “C’mon, you’ll be fine. I promise.”

Brow wrinkled, you eyed the noisy pool, uncertainty pulsing through your body with an underlying panic. Technically, you didn’t need to learn how to swim. You lived in Indiana, a double landlocked state. It wasn’t like you were planning on taking a dip in the Atlantic Ocean any time soon.

But this wasn’t about swimming, both you and Steve knew that. This was about conquering a fear that held so much trauma and guilt.

Steve, noting your apprehension, swam a little closer to the edge, leaning over to look up toward you, “Sometimes, the only way out is through.”

You nodded, despite the slight glare etched onto your features, before slowly unraveling your towel, feeling a little too exposed despite your rather conservative bathing suit. It wasn’t very flattering, but it covered the scars over your abdomen much better than any alternatives.

Before you could step forward, a low wolf whistle stopped you in your tracks, “Well, well, well. I didn’t know the Convent was in town.”

Slamming your eyes shut in annoyance, you silently cursed your luck, “Go away, Hargrove.”

“No can do,” you wanted to slap the wolfish grin right off his face when he pushed his sunglasses up onto the top of his head and raised his metal whistle toward you, “Kind of my job to be here.”

“Great,” you huffed, returning your attention to the boy in the pool, “Can we go? Please?”

“Oh, I get it…” Billy smirked, eyes darting between you and Steve, who was glaring at him from the water, “Anyway, the geriatric swim session is from 4pm, til 5. You’re a little early with that outfit.”

Billy pulled the strap of your costume, as if to make a point, allowing it to snap back onto your skin, making you flinch before shoving him away slightly, “I swear, Hargrove. If you-”

The shrill sound of his whistle cut you off, his eyes set on a running child who almost tripped over himself in an attempt to slow down, before he finally returned his attention to you, pulling his sunglasses back over his leering eyes, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you. And don’t forget, I know mouth-to-mouth.”

You weren’t able to formulate a response before Billy had sauntered off, late for his round of peacock-ing in front of the Horny Housewives of Hawkins. Instead, you found your feet taking you to the edge of the pool.

Sitting on the edge of the pool, you dangled your legs in cautiously as you began your tirade to Steve, instead.

“That guy is so pig-headed. I swear, if he ever touches me again, I’ll rip that stupid little mustache off his face.”

Steve, who had moved slightly to allow you the space to sit in front of him sent you an amused smile, “Ignore him, alright? Are we doing this?”

Inhaling deeply and trying to push your fear to the back of your mind, you accepted his hands that were outstretched and awaiting your own,

“If I need the kiss of life, and Billy is my only option, please, and I mean this wholeheartedly, let me die.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve waded back into the water slowly, allowing you to shuffle forward until you were finally in the water, “Yeah, I’m a certified lifeguard. I could just give you mouth-to-mouth.”

Steve’s words caused the both of you to halt, and for just a moment, you were grateful for the cool pool water as it lapped at your too-warm body. Catching himself, Steve began to stutter as he dragged you a little further into the pool, “You know, if you, uh… If you ever needed it…”

Fighting hard to not allow your obvious embarrassment to invade your face, you settled your focus on the boy’s hands as he led you away from the pool’s edge, which was a mistake all of its own, “I’d prefer to just, you know… Not drown.”

“That’ll be a good start, yeah,” Steve swallowed thickly, his cheeks rosy from what he would argue was the sun, “You’re doing well.”

“I’ve just got in, Steve. I haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Half the fight was getting into the pool in the first place,” Steve smirked, a small wave of water hitting his chin as you pushed water toward him with a halfhearted glare.

It almost annoyed you how good Steve was at teaching. Sure, with the kids, he sometimes lost his temper and would more often than not result in name-calling, but when he knew how to do something, Steve really knew.

By no means were you confident in the water, nor could you do much more than dog paddle and a flailing backstroke, but by the time you’d pulled your aching limbs from the water and began to dry off, you were slowly growing comfortable with Steve’s assistance. Not that you intended on joining the Swimming Team any time soon.

“Why didn’t you apply for a job here? I mean, it kinda seems like you’d ace an interview here.”

“Already filled up their positions,” Steve sighed, rubbing his towel through his hair, unaware or unbothered with it sticking out in several directions, “Plus, I don’t think my Dad would see it as much of a punishment, hanging around a pool with babes in bikini’s all day, you know?”

“I work a minimum wage job in an overheated arcade, full of smelly preteen boys. Anything would be an upgrade from that.”

“And you’re sure there are no positions available? Like, nothing at all?”

Shrugging, you wrapped your towel around yourself and shoved your feet into your flip flops, ready to head into the changing cubicle, “However much I wish Andy would quit, there’s nothing. Sorry.”

“No, it’s cool. I, uh... I totally passed that interview at the Mall, anyway. I start this week.”

“Oh shit, that’s great.”

“Yeah, well… It’s some Ice cream place, so… That'll be... Fun.”

You and Steve separated into changing rooms, and once you were relatively dry and dressed back into your normal clothes, you made your way out, spotting the boy leaning against one of the wooden picnic benches, talking to one of the lifeguards, Heather.

Before you could make your way over, a tanned arm shot out, reaching toward the wall, essentially blocking you in, “You know, I surfed a lot back in California.”

“Riveting,” you deadpanned, barely sparing a look in Billy’s direction, “Does this story have a point, or are you just trying to waste my time?”

“My point,” Billy stressed, leaning uncomfortably closer to you, “is that I’m a pretty great swimmer. The ocean isn’t exactly a backyard pool, you know? I teach lessons here, but… if you ever want a private session, then you know where I am. My specialty is the breaststroke, but I know all the styles-”

“You are disgusting, Hargrove. You know that?”

Billy’s smirk stretched across his face, but his eyes darkened slightly, “You weren’t saying that last Halloween. In fact, if I remember, you weren’t really saying much at all.”

Your name being called from across the small entrance caught both of your attention, but Billy’s arm remained high by your head,

“Hey, you already swam?” The boy asked, his eyes darting between you, Billy, and his arm against the wall.

“Uh, yeah. I was getting a lesson…”

Nodding, Patrick turned his attention to the blonde, “Sup, Hargrove. Didn’t know you got a summer gig here.”

“Why would you know?” Chewing on his gum, Billy watched the boy carefully, his smirk nowhere to be seen, before turning back to you but thankfully removing his hand from the wall beside you, “Offers there.”

Billy brushed past Patrick, who barely seemed phased by the boy’s cold shoulder, even when he greeted his friends with much more warmth, “God, he is such a dick. Are you alright?”

“Yeah. No, I’m good. Thank you, though.” You stumbled through your words, thankful that Patrick and his group of friends hadn’t turned up earlier. That was an embarrassment you didn’t need to suffer.

Jason called after Patrick, telling him to hurry, but the boy merely sent them away to swim with a wave of his wrist, ensuring he’ll join them soon, yet he remained standing with you at the entrance.

“So, uh… Thanks again, you know. For helping me clear up the other day. You didn’t need to.”

“Well, it was kinda my fault that Andy ditched, so… It was the least I could do.”

“Yeah, well… I hope he at least gave you some of his paychecks.”

Patrick smirked, his dark eyes peering down into yours, making you feel a little too exposed.

“You know, I was uh… I know you don’t like Andy, or whatever, but, we’re having this small get-together Monday night. Not a lot of people but… yeah, it’s normally pretty cool. Did you, maybe wanna, go? With me, I mean… Obviously.”

With wide eyes and an open mouth, you prayed for your brain to stop short-circuiting and respond — at this point with anything — but instead, you stood, staring at him like a guppy, causing him to stutter,

“I mean, you totally don’t have to. Because of Andy or, you know, even if you don’t like me, that’s totally fine too. I just thought maybe-”

“Monday night sounds good,” your voice squeaked, and for a moment you could only beg that the Earth would open up and swallow you whole. Take you back to the Upside Down, for all you gave a shit.

Instead of calling you out on it, or mocking you, Patrick instead sent you a wide, sincere smile and nodded, “Yeah, cool. I’ll uh… I’ll pick you up? Around 9?”

And with a nod of your head, it was a date.

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