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foreverromanticising · 2 years ago

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WHEN WE ARE TOGETHER.

steve harrington.

[a lot of words idk you can count them, friends in love, sad steve, cows and yellow sweaters]

inspired by when we are together by the 1975, squint and you’ll see the ‘the only time i feel i might get better is when we are together’ line (listen to the song as u listen pls ily u wont regret it)

Steve Harrington had struggled with a myriad of things throughout the course of his life - from simple things like minor arguments with his friends and parents to more extreme like quite literally battling otherworldly monsters. He had been through it all, he had practically raised himself, and nothing ever seemed to get better.

The boy lived in a constant state of survival mode, nothing was ever easy enough in his life that he could relax for more than ten minutes at a time. Even sleeping, the only time he was guaranteed to relax slightly and take a deep breath, became more and more difficult as Steve grew older.

Nothing shocked him anymore; no amount of demodogs, evil old men trying to figure out who he worked for, or blood and gore even phased the boy. He had accepted that this was his life.

More often than not, he would return home with a bruised eye or his knuckles cut into pieces so he was pretty much used to anything that was thrown his way.

You watched it all from afar, not knowing Steve well enough to figure why he was always injured in some way or if you were even in a position to question him on it.

During your junior year and his senior year, you started a new job at Hawkins’ local diner with the intention of beginning your savings for the future. As expected, the pay wasn’t the best but you were never too bothered by it because it was merely a part time, weekend job.

However, the tips certainly made up for it from your usual and favourite customers. Especially, the tips that Steve Harrington left for you.

It was never something you questioned - you were never really in a place to - so after a few months of this same routine, every Sunday evening once it hit 5pm, because Steve was sure to waltz in some time soon, you put his same order through to the chefs: some chicken sandwich and a lemonade, without fail.

When he first started appearing, you never spoke to him more so than just merely taking his order and moving on. But, as time moved on, small talk turned into conversations that were just below surface level. Of course, you knew Steve from school, everyone knew him, but he never knew you.

And, god, he beat himself up for it everyday.

He recognised you, probably just from passing periods and lunch, but he didn’t know your name. Not until his Sunday nights went from more than you taking his order to you sitting down with him as he ate.

Neither of you were quite sure how it happened or why it happened, but you both liked it. Whether you could only sit for ten minutes or the whole hour, the conversation just seemed to flow despite the two of you never speaking outside of the diner.

Yet, you still didn’t know why Steve kept up such a routine. However, you could only be kept in the dark for so long, the question always on the tip of your tongue whenever you sat down with him. It only took so long until the question was inevitably asked.

“My parents aren’t home a ton… or, like, at all,” Steve shrugged his shoulders, like this was the most normal thing in the world - which it was, to him - and spoke through a mouthful of food. “I can’t cook much, ramen and cereal most of the time, so I’m sorta guaranteed a good meal here.”

It was more than just his parents never really being home, he knew that, but he didn’t want to unload all of his life struggles onto you. His parents were always at a conference or on a business trip somewhere - maybe even a vacation they just didn’t want to take Steve on - so they would leave a couple hundred bills by the front door and a kiss to his cheek before they were off for god knew how long.

Just because Steve was used to it didn’t mean that it didn’t hurt; he hated spending his birthday alone, he hated spending the holidays alone, and he hated watching his so called act like this was normal just because they could use his empty house for a party whenever they felt like it.

His life was lonely; even more so now because of his break up with Nancy and how that had led to losing any friends his own age. Of course, he loved Dustin and all of his friends, but sometimes he just wanted someone, his age, to talk to about his life.

Not that you knew, but your chats with Steve at the diner were the best part of the boy’s week. The two of you could speak about the most meaningless crap but he would still make the effort to sit on your side of the diner, just to make sure you would be the one to serve him.

Your heart ached at the boy’s confession for it was something you never would’ve guessed. He was Steve Harrington; King of Hawkins High; the boy who had it all. But that was clearly some stereotype that flooded through high school, holding absolutely zero truth.

“I could name a handful more restaurants with better food.” You laughed it off because whilst the diner paid you, you wouldn’t exactly wish to eat there every week.

“Yeah, but do those restaurants have pretty girls that are willing to sit with me for the night?” A smile played on his lips, his eyes filled with nothing but flirt for you. “‘Cause I don’t think they do.”

You thought this was just Steve being who he was, a usual flirt, but as you got to know him you soon realised that wasn’t entirely the case. Around the same time the boy started visiting the diner was the time he had broke up with Nancy and fallen out with most - if not all of his friends.

He just wanted someone to keep him company, and who were you to say no to Steve Harrington?

So, spending Sunday evenings together developed into sitting together at lunch to Saturday movie nights with him to late night progressing into early morning phone calls. Your friendship developed far quicker than you ever anticipated; Steve was just easy to talk to.

He listened and was always there for you, just as you were always there for him, he was far smarter than you were, and never failed to lighten your mood or make you laugh.The list went on and on, each reason further solidifying your unexpected friendship.

You grew so close that once Steve got a job in Scoops Ahoy, meaning you would be spending less time together, you applied to the book store across from him in Starcourt. Luckily enough, you landed the job, the pay was better than the last, and at least this time you would actually enjoy what you were doing for work.

During your breaks, you would stride over to Scoops to take advantage of Steve’s free ice cream privileges- and maybe just so you could spend any extra time you could with the boy. You slipped around the counter, saying hey to Robin as you passed, and pulling up a chair right beside Steve’s in the break room.

Over the months you had known each other, your hormones had spurred as your friendship developed; touches started lingering just that little longer, seats were always pushed too close together so you could feel the heat from him, and Steve’s clothes seemed to push their way into your wardrobe more than your own.

“How’s work been, pretty girl?” Already, Steve had a little tub of your favourite ice cream waiting for you on the table in front of him. A strange wave of deja vu seemed to wash over you as it felt like you had been here before.

“Slow,” You shrugged your shoulders without much to report back on considering you had had maybe five customers that day and it was already nearing three in the afternoon. “Seems like nobody reads anymore.”

“The amount you read makes up for the rest of Hawkins.” Steve used his plastic spoon to take some of your ice cream, speaking with this mouth full.

“Yeah, but it’d still be nice to have some customers that weren’t old women or my english teacher.” From where you worked, you could see across the mall into Scoops and the never ending line of girls that seemed to pile in to flirt with Steve whilst you had to sit back and watch.

“No, you don’t,” He shook his head to disagree with you. “This place is full with people from high school, talking about their colleges and real futures, and I just gotta pretend I’m fine with the fact my life is falling apart.”

This seemed to be how your conversations went as of recently, always taking a self deprecating turn on Steve’s part. But he always played it off with a laugh, his words and actions entirely contradicting each other.

“Steve, stop that,” You quickly scolded him for the negative words that left his lips because you hated when he spoke badly of himself for he was so much more than what his job was. “You aren’t your job, and look on the bright side, at least you get to talk to people your age at your job.”

“What? You want to talk to hot guys at your job, is that it?” Steve had his fair share of girls coming into Scoops, twirling their hair and leaning just that bit too close over the counter, but he never led them on any further than just a smile and a wink. “I thought you coming over here with me was enough, didn’t know you were looking for anyone else.” And, as always, the infamous Steve Harrington smirk played on his lips as he spoke.

You weren’t sure when your friendship developed into whatever it was; him flirting with you or you flirting with him, it didn’t really matter. You were both older now - Steve recently eighteen and you just about to turn eighteen - a anyone could see that Steve Harrington was a pretty boy but you would argue that no one appreciated him like you did as you grew up.

More often than not, he would lay on the end of your bed, exasperated, as he complained about yet another failed date. You could never quite understand why he had so many unsuccessful attempts but it seemed to be a running theme with him.

It was a flirty comment, hands wandering along your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap- nothing but a bit of fun, that was all you thought of it. Waking up in the same bed wasn’t the same as it used to be, limbs intertwined and bodies pressed too close together.

Everything had just progressed so quickly in the space of a year. Your friendship always walking on the thin tissue, both of you wondering when you would plunge through into something more.

Because surely it had to mean something more to Steve? Just as it did to you? There was no way the constant touching, the way he smiled at you and pushed your stray hairs behind your ear, his eyes lingering those extra seconds whenever you wore those shorts that sat high on your thighs- there was no way that all meant nothing.

“Steve! Your turn!” Robin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, her running into the break room even more so as you stared down at your half melted ice cream. “There’s, like, an entire school of children and I’m not dealing with giving each of them free samples.” She slumped down in Steve’s chair as soon as he reluctantly stood up.

“I’ll see you later, yeah? Want to come ‘round mine?” He spoke as he walked out of the room, his hand skirting over your shoulders only encouraging you to follow him and you happily obliged.

“Can we just go straight after work? I don’t wanna go home just to go to yours.” You stood to the side of the counter, taking in the supposed ‘school’ of children that Robin had ran away from- there were five children with their parents.

“Yeah ‘course, whatever you want,” Steve nodded his head but tried to take everyone’s orders as quickly as he could, waving them all goodbye within a few minutes. “I’ll come get you when my shift’s over.” He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before you could head back to the bookstore, and you could quite literally feel the smile on his lips.

The hours until the end of yours and Steve’s shifts passed by excruciatingly slow, waiting until you both could close and just go home. But, eventually, the time did come when Steve sauntered over, scoops hat ripped off of his head, and spinning his car keys around his fingertips.

“You ready to go, sweetheart?” He stood just outside of the store, the shutters halfway down as you ran out with a bundle of books in your arms and tried to avoid getting stuck under the shutters. “God, I think your bookshelf is gonna collapse one of these days.”

“I know, I think I need to get another one.” You knew Steve was just joking but you were being entirely serious with him.

You’d barely taken five steps away from the store before Steve was slipping his hands under the stack of books in your arms, sliding the books into his own arms without saying anything. He asked you about each of the books in his arms, not understanding the stories the same way you probably would but he always tried to make an effort to be interested in what you liked. The back and forth conversation lasted until you reached his maroon BMW, when he placed all of your books carefully into the backseats.

“Are you tired or do you wanna get something to eat? My treat.” Steve started the car and drove out of the Starcourt mall, the warm summer air flowed through the car and it felt like a relief after you both spent the whole day in the air conditioned mall.

“No, I think I just want to go home,” You shook your head, wanting nothing more than to pull off your uniform and grab one of Steve’s sweaters instead. “Unless you want to get something but you might want to get changed first.”

Even though it had been a few weeks of Steve working at scoops, his uniform never really got old. He didn’t seem to have any that deep of a hatred like you thought he would, but there was no denying his distaste for the hat that supposedly hid his best feature.

“Shit, yeah,” He laughed, forgetting he was even in those tight blue shorts and sailor’s shirt. “We’ll just go home, see what I can cook.”

And soon enough, you were back in Steve’s bed, wrapped up in his clothes, just the way you had wanted the night to end. He didn’t cook anything, there was no point in the boy trying - you both knew that - so you had reverted to ordering takeout instead.

You hadn’t even asked for his yellow sweater once the two of you trudged up the stairs after dinner more than Steve simply dug it out of his wardrobe for you.

“You can keep that, y’know,” Steve spoke once you stepped out of his bathroom, making your way over to the other side of his bed. “I never wear it and you like it more than me anyway.”

Of course, you were in no place to turn Steve’s offer down and from then on out, you wore that sweater probably more than you should’ve.

So, when Steve woke you up one morning with a phone call, seemingly much more awake than you were, and asked if you would run some errands with him, you grabbed your - his - sweater and were on your way. The sweater had lost the cedar, vanilla, bergamot, and Steve smell but you still wore it every chance you could.

It was a miserable day for Hawkins, the rain pelting off of Steve’s car and the clouded, dark skies made it feel like the day was never ending. Although, you weren’t sure you would be in any position to complain if the day never actually came to an end.

“I think it’s cute when all the cows lie down together, like they all just decide it’s time to nap or something.” Steve drove past a farm filled with cows on his way to the next store he needed, your attention caught as you stared out of the window.

“I think it’s actually something to do with the weather, not ‘cause they’re all tired so-” Steve decided to just bite his tongue then and there, not wishing to burst your bubble once you turned around to face him. Your cheeks pushed up to your eyes because of your smile, grinning ear to ear, and in no way was Steve going to tell you cows lay down because of the rain and not because they wanted to nap together. “Yeah, it’s cute, isn’t it?”

“So, what’s with all the errands? What’re you planning, Stevie?” You didn’t question Steve when he pulled you out of bed far too early for your liking, not when you had already been in three supermarkets, but you did once you read the ‘You are now leaving Indiana, Thank you for visiting!’ sign.

“My parents are coming back tomorrow,” He said the words like they were nothing, without following them up with anything and simply letting them simmer in the air. “I need to stock the fridge, learn to cook, deep clean the entire house and the pool, pretend I’ve got more than two friends my age, somehow get into a relationship-”

“Woah, hey, take a breather,” Steve was working himself up into a flurry, and you had seen this happen before whenever his parents visited; panicking over every little aspect about his life. “You don’t need to panic, I’ll help with whatever you need.”

“Really?” He turned to look at you with nothing but love in his eyes, feeling like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders as you nodded.

You were more than happy to help Steve for you knew just how anxious he became whenever his parents came home, even if it was just for a day or two. Your offer didn’t go under appreciated by Steve as you spent the next day trying to learn how to make a roast dinner from scratch whilst he ran around cleaning every crack and corner of his parents’ house.

“You didn’t tell me you could cook.” Steve hummed as he stood behind you in his kitchen, his chin near enough resting on your shoulder and his lips so close to your skin that you could feel his breath on your neck.

“I can’t, I’m following a recipe.” You turned your head barely by an inch and if Steve even dared to move his then your lips would press together- and you were praying to god that he couldn’t hear the heartbeat sounding through your pulse.

“Still better than anything I could do-” Steve huffed out a laugh and you felt his arms against your back, his fingertips grazing your waist but all of a sudden he jumped away.

The front door opened, the sound of suitcases being dragged inside could be heard through the house, and Steve’s mother started shouting ‘Stevie, my boy!’ once she was inside. Any sort of emotion that was on Steve’s face only a moment ago had been washed away as he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him before he walked out of the kitchen to meet his parents.

“I missed you, Steve,” His mother immediately wrapped his arms around Steve causing him to drop your hand and be pulled off away by his mother. “Did you miss me?”

“Oh, yeah, loads.” Steve nodded his head with a tight lipped smile. He chose not to say anything considering he knew that if his mother missed him that much then she wouldn’t have left in the first place.

His father had skirted away somewhere upstairs after murmuring a hello to his son, leaving the three of you to stand in the threshold of the house.

“And who is this, Stevie? You have to introduce us.” His mother held out her hand for you to shake and you accepted as Steve introduced you. “You’re so pretty, dear, you could have absolutely anyone and you’re with my Steve?”

It was supposed to sound like a compliment to you but in the process she dragged her own son down and didn’t even seem to care. Neither you nor Steve seemed to care or correct her on the assumption that you were together.

“Well, we gotta run to the store and grab something for dinner but we won’t be long- tell dad I said hi.” And before his mother could even process what Steve had said, he had taken your hand again and pulled you out of his house, car key in hand.

Before you knew it, you were pushing a shopping cart through a supermarket, grabbing random groceries, really just so Steve could procrastinate going back home. You didn’t really need to speak about the brief interaction between a Steve and his parents, just seeing him instantly tense up around them was everything you needed to know.

“Am I shitty person if I just wanted them to stay away?” Steve broke the silence that you had been walking around the store in, his voice quieter than you had ever heard it before. His vulnerabilities were on a plate being shown to you and he didn’t have a care in the world. “Like, I hate when they just come back and act like everything is fine, like their money is gonna make up for everything- ‘cause I feel really fucking shitty.”

“I don’t think you’re a shitty person, Steve.” You shook your head, not letting Steve talk about himself in such a way - as you always done - especially considering what he had gone through to feel that way.

“My parents think I’m a shitty son.” He grabbed a box of sprite and placed it in the cart.

“Maybe ‘cause they’re shitty parents.” You knew they were his parents and that they probably loved him deep down - really deep down - but there was no denying how they treated their son was nothing but disgraceful.

“You’re too nice to me, sweetheart.” Steve caged his arms around you, holding onto the cart as well, your bodies pressed together as you pushed the cart through the store.

You would never say it out loud to your boy but you weren’t sure enough people were nice to him.

“Okay, and? Shoot me for it.” You turned your head to look up at him, your faces so close that you were reminiscent of how you were stood in his kitchen only hours prior.

And, no, he didn’t shoot you for it- how could he ever? But within a split seconds, his lips were pressed to yours and one of his hands cradled your face like he was scared that if he let go then you would disappear. As if you would even dare disappear from him when all you had ever wanted was for him to take the leap, to plunge through, and just kiss you already.

It had been too long of a wait but you would do it all over again to have your breath stolen with a kiss from your boy. You had spent to long pondering the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what could happens’ every time a hug lasted a beat too long or he left a kiss to your hair, but it seemed to all be for the right reasons because his kiss washed away any of the insecurities you held.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t not kiss you there.” Steve took a deep breath as he stepped back, accepting the fact he had probably destroyed a friendship, but he couldn’t even fight the smile on his face.

His smile that only grew in size when you ignored the cart full of groceries and pushed up onto your toes to hold his face and kiss him back. You weren’t sure what had randomly spurred Steve to kiss you but you wouldn’t ever complain.

“Can we just go home? I don’t even want any of these groceries.” He pulled away from you, well aware of the fact you two were stood in a very public place in your very small town.

“You want to come to my place, instead? We don’t have to go back to yours.” You weren’t quite sure what home was for you or Steve because you said it whenever you were going to each other’s houses, but it seemed to make sense.

“Yeah, please,” Steve nodded his head and intertwined your fingers, leading you out of the store and towards his car. “I think I’m just gonna pretend my parents aren’t hear until they leave for fucking Michigan or Massachusetts, wherever they’re going.”

“You can stay at mine, your clothes are all there anyway.” There was no denying your wardrobe was filled with half of Steve’s anyway, even as his yellow sweater adorned your body anyway.

The car ride back from the grocery store was better than the one going; the air wasn’t as thick and you both sat with lovesick, cheesy smiles on your face. Steve’s hand held your thigh as he drove, your head turned to look out of the window as always.

“The cows are lying down again.” You pointed to the crowd of cows all laying down together as you always found yourself rather amused by them.

“Yeah, they’re probably tired by now- it’s getting late.” Steve humoured you, simply agreeing as he looked to see all of the cows laying down together because you talking about cows in his sweater was possibly the only thing that made him feel better when everything else in his life was crappy.

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