Chapter Text
He was, without a shadow of a doubt, a loser.
On the inside at least.
You knew Steve somewhat well, but never well enough to be one of the many girls he managed to date. Just someone who watched him from the sidelines. Sometimes participating in a few projects with him (you having done most of the work). Short conversations about homework or jabs at the teachers. He even stood up for you on some occasions. Telling someone to “knock it off” or a quiet, “sorry” after a kid or two made fun of you. His friends never let up messing with you; having been the butt of the “we’re friends, right?” joke that all the popular kids seemed to pull against quiet kids.
You didn’t care though honestly. Any chance to get Steve around you, or to talk to you was enough.
Yes, you admired him. Liked him even.
It was an embarrassing thought.
What was impossibly more embarrassing was how you acted when you managed to get invited to one of his parties in that big, empty house of his.
Giddy, apologetic, wearing that stupid smile you hated so much.
Tommy muttered something and rolled his eyes as he walked away with a subtle shake of his head.
Was that reaction worrying to you? Of course it was. Did you care? Of course you did! But this wasn’t the time to be acting that way. You just got invited.. To a party. Steve’s party.
Parties were never your thing. They were too loud. Crowded. All that touching.. It sent shivers up your spine. You’d much rather spend your time at home in the safety of your room. Listening to music or practicing a hobby.
You enjoyed your own time too much. So much that your parents chided you, begging that you get out of the house.
But you were never confident enough to follow through with their demands.
Until now.
There were a number of people attending this time around, a party to kick off the start of the year. Surprising to many, popular kids and unpopular kids were invited alike.
When you arrived, your hands subconsciously tugged nervously at your outfit and hair. Feeling perpetually out of place as you waded through crowds of popular kids.
They gave uneasy glances towards you, eyebrows raising but ultimately returning to their own conversations. It didn’t fail to make you anxious though. Stomach threatening to twist into knots if you didn’t find solitude.
The house wasn’t any better. The music blared louder and free spaces became few and far between. Some people drank, some were kissing, some were getting too rowdy, all too much for your liking.. But maybe–
You could get used to it.
That was what you thought until you found yourself standing uncomfortably in the corner. Strained smile gracing your lips while accompanied by the furrow of your brows. Retreating inwards as you always did, the once steady beat of your heart picking up its pace.
You scolded yourself inwardly, mind cursing itself, pleading for your body to move.
To mingle.
To laugh.
And to not cry.
“Hey.”
You froze.
Steve leaned against the wall, a lopsided grin unfurling from his lips.
Oh.
You had no idea what to say.
This being his house, you assumed you’d see him around. Joking with friends, making out with a girl.. Yet here he was. Leaning against the wall, outfit clean, hair fluffed to perfection– Talking to you.
Instinctively you glanced around for his friends, Tommy, Carol maybe. Or just anyone, really. Was this some cruel joke or did the Steve Harrington really want to talk to you?
“Drink?” Steve offered a plastic cup forward, red liquid sloshing about, “This one's not spiked,” He assured, “I got it before they dumped the alcohol in.” His brown hues drifted towards the group of teens crowding at the punch bowl, all scrambling to get to the last of it.
“Mm- I’m alright,” You lower your head apologetically, shifting from leg to leg, hand coming to tuck a tress of hair behind your ear, “Thanks though.” In his presence you felt more nervous, subconsciously more worried about your appearance. You’d honestly be lying if that was just it. Suddenly every facet of your being was being scrutinized by your brain.
Steve nodded, taking the cup to his own lips for a sip. He hums, “Waiting on someone?”
He is still talking to you. Wow. Not that you minded!- But it was just… Odd, “Nah.. Not really.” You shrug, “I was.. Uh. Going to leave soon actually.”
You were hardly prepared for the pout that Steve wore, brown eyes big and searching, “What? Why?” He was getting nervous now. Was it wrong for him to invite you? Is he making you want to leave? Has he misread every situation between you two so far???? Steve pushed himself off the wall, running a hand through his hair.
“I.. I’m not too big on parties, y’know? And I don’t really know anyone here.”
“..You know me.”
Eyes return to him, nearly as wide as his were moments earlier. It’s true, you knew him.. Sort of. But you were worried that this was: A joke. A sick joke. And also that if you stayed you’d surely embarrass yourself in front of him. That’s something you couldn’t handle happening. Not trusting your tongue to convey the right message without saying something stupid, you mumbled, “Mmm,” with a subtle nod of your head.
This was awkward. Terribly, unequivocally, awkward.
Steve opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, his brows pushing together, creases forming. Before he can actually say anything the music gets turned up a smidge.
It’s loud.
Music rumbling through the floor and up into you, bones vibrating with the harsh beats of the song. You grit your teeth, inhaling a quick breath between them.
Steve looks frustrated, and he turns to you to say, “Do you want–”
Only to be abruptly cut off by Tommy H slamming into him, hands grabbing his shoulders in a playfully aggressive manner.
“Dude!” Steve huffed, exasperated.
“Hey man, what’s up? Haven’t seen you all party,” Tommy laughed, hand coming to ruffle Steve’s hair before his hand slapped it away.
All you could do was watch as panic rose in your chest.
He didn’t seem to notice you yet so you took the chance to push yourself off the wall and through the sea of people, managing to reach the door to the outside (ignoring the call of your name distantly behind you, followed by teasing and laughing).
When you arrive to see nobody outdoors you scoff. You figured there’d be at least someone swimming, or people wanting some privacy out of the house. But no, there was nobody.
Letting out a sigh of relief, breathing in the cool September air as you shut the door behind you.
Moments pass and you find a spot to sit by the pool. Resting on cool concrete you rest back on your palms, eyes staring wistfully out at the clear blue pool.
You wished you knew how to talk to people.
To socialize.
That’s one reason why you were obsessed with Steve.
That confidence was something to be envied. You were sure if you got to spend more time around him, that charisma would soon seep into you.
You were such a loser.
You couldn’t even last more than 10 minutes in that house before needing fresh air.
What was wrong with you?
It made your heart hurt knowing how little of a chance you had.
Not just that, but the fright that Steve is about to give you arguably made your heart hurt more.
“Hey,” He spoke from behind you (sounding slightly out of breath), lighter clicking in his hands while a cigarette dangled precariously from his lips. It was a nasty addiction he picked up while trying to play cool for his “friends”.
“Shit!-” You sit up, face flushed, “Uhhh.. Hey..” Same situation, different location.
Steve looked around, finally getting his cigarette to light; that allowed him to take a quick drag before exhaling it as he talked, “I’m sorry Tommy butted in, I told him to back off.”
“It’s.. Fine.” You were sure your heart was ready to leap out of your chest, hand coming to paw at your chest, gripping the fabric of your shirt.
That (unfortunately) didn’t go unnoticed by Steve, his usually charming persona faltering, “You alright? Do you want me to leave?” He offered, and by your standards, that was uncharacteristically nice of him. Hidden behind the niceties were insecurities. Deeply worried about pushing boundaries.
“No!” You say, head turning and eyes wide as your hands move to hover midair, waving no. Though you said that a little too quickly for your liking, so you clear your throat, “No.. Uh. I’m fine. Don’t want you giving everyone else second hand smoke.” You jest, returning your gaze to the water; knees moving up and arms coming to clutch them close.
He laughed.
Oh my god. He laughed. At your joke??? It wasn’t even a joke, it was more of a jab! Yet he still laughed. The sound made your heart squeeze against your ribs.
Steve grinned, nodding, “Right, right.” He found himself walking closer, and soon he sat down right next to you. One knee up, arm resting casually against it while the other between each other.
You watch him out of the corner of your eye and you can feel your nerves going haywire. Why isn’t he leaving? Wait, I just told him to stay.. But he could’ve gone anywhere else!- Why me.. You whine mentally, though deep down you were secretly overjoyed at the events transpiring.
Silence enveloped you two for some time. The breeze ruffling the trees, the low hum of the music muffled from being played indoors.
“I didn’t think you were going to come.” Steve hummed, taking the cigarette from his lips, having it now resting between two fingers. His eyes trailed to you momentarily, though they drifted not a moment later.
“Huh?” You glance over to him just briefly missing his gaze, “Oh. Uh. Yeah I didn’t think I was going to either.” You let out an awkward laugh. “But y’know.. My parents want me out of the house.” You shrug, and you mentally facepalm yourself. Giving too much away– Be casual!
“Not out much?” He questioned next, fighting a groan at his stupidity. Of course you weren’t out much. He rarely saw you, but knew you just enough to know the type of person you were. He was totally blowing this.
Too nervous to respond with words, you offer another shrug and a ‘mhm’.
That reinforced the notion that he was failing miserably at this. In an effort to smooth tensions he offered you his cigarette.
“Oh I–” You almost turned it down, but you didn’t want to seem like an even bigger loser, so you took it from his hand (not without the brush of his fingers against yours. God your stomach was doing flips). Pressing it to your lips you tried to mimic what you saw on tv, having never smoked before. Only to hand it back after a drag leaving you coughing, eyes brimming with tears.
That made him laugh again, brows knitting together as a small smile tugged on his lips, “You could’ve said no, I don’t care.”
I don’t care.
Was this really Steve Harrington?
The water still welled in your eyes, face twisting in disbelief. Your image of him completely shattered in just three words. He was a douche, that much you knew. But this? This was far more different than what you could’ve imagined. That cocky, jerky persona that he wore seemingly reduced to something soft. Something quiet. Down to earth even.
He caught your gaze that time, a flash of worry flickering within those big brown eyes of his, “Is there something on my face?” He spoke, a hint of nervousness slipping through each word.
“Is this a dare?”
“What?”
You said that without thinking, already looking around for the gaggle of teens ready to make fun of you, “Did Tommy dare you to talk to me?” It was the only conclusion you could come up with. You two were so very different, never in your wildest dreams would you have been able to imagine this happening under normal circumstances.
“No– Why would you think that?” Steve asked, seemingly oblivious but genuinely.. painfully obtuse.
“Because..” You mutter, already moving to get up, heart practically racing. Some of those tears from your coughing fit were starting to finally fall, though they were now motivated by the sudden fear that coming to this party was a huge mistake. “Why would you have any other reason to talk to me??” You question, jaw clenching.
He stood up with you, hand coming to run uneasily through his hair, voice wavering, “Maybe because I want to.. Talk. To you.” He mumbled.
This was getting weirder and weirder by the second.
“Me.” You repeated. “You sure you're not thinking of some other person?”
Steve was fumbling this horribly. He didn’t realize he came off that way, arms crossing over his chest as he looked for words he didn’t know how to say.
Just when he found the courage to speak again, Tommy and Carol barged through the door behind him shouting. They paused upon seeing you, hushed murmurs soon turning into loud comments, “Ooo”s and kissing sounds.
Steve groaned, face morphing into something not quite short of mortified. It would be nearly impossible to convince you now that he had no ulterior motive for talking to you.
You scoff, shaking your head. “I knew it was too good to be true.” You wipe a lingering tear from your cheek and turn heel, “You’re a jerk, Steve Harrington.”
“Wait!-” He turned to grab your wrist but missed it narrowly, face bright red as Tommy and Carol mocked him from the sidelines.
You shoved your way past the two and back inside, weaving through groups of people to head out the front door. Unbeknownst to you, Steve wasn’t far behind. Having stormed past his “friends” to make it to you, face distraught. This wasn’t how tonight was supposed to go.
Once outside you picked up the pace, bounding down the walkway to his house to get to your car. Just before reaching it you heard the familiar voice calling your name again.
You don’t turn.
“I’m sorry. It- They- They weren’t supposed to..” Was he ashamed of you? It was a feeling he was avoiding acknowledging.
“See?” You finish.
“Yeah.” He shrugged.
“I.. Had Tommy invite you because I wanted to.. Get to know you. Find a quiet moment to chat.” Oh my god he wanted to kill himself. Luckily it was dark, dark enough so that the light dust of pink on his cheeks was hidden from prying eyes.
“You couldn’t ask me yourself?” You mutter, finally turning to look at him, voice cracking.
Steve bit his lip, “I..” His voice trailed off.
“You didn’t want to be seen talking to me?” You guess. You’d say you were perfect together with how you kept finishing his sentences, only if it was in a sweeter context.
I was scared. That’s what he wanted to say.
“No.” Maybe he’d tell you one day, but not now, “It’s.. Unrelated. But not at all what I wanted to say. I really do want to get to know you. But we share so few classes.. And you’re never out.” He pinched his nose bridge, “There was never a good enough chance for me to really just ask you.” Steve danced around what he really wanted to say, free hand resting against his hip.
You listen quietly, sniffling. “This a dare too?”
“No.” Steve spoke firmly, taking a step forward. “Let me make it up to you.” His voice lowered, “Stay until after the party's over. I’ll make sure nobody’s around to interrupt,” he paused, “I really just want to talk.”
This was his way of asking you on a “date”. He knew you weren’t sociable, so somewhere public was out of the question. Inviting just you out the gate felt wrong to him too, so this was the best alternative he could conjure.
And you stayed.
Much to both of your disbeliefs.
Hiding out away in his backyard on a lawn chair until most of the party died out, blanket tugging closer over your frame to combat the cold. You insisted on waiting outside away from people (the other option was his bedroom and you nearly thought you were going to faint the moment he suggested that).
It wasn’t long until Steve pushed the door open to the outside, spotting you sitting at the far corner of the pool, “Most of everyone's left!- We’re just cleaning up.”
Your head snaps up, fear twisting in the muscle fibers of your legs as you will yourself to join him inside, legs barely acquiescing.
Walking in you’re greeted with drunken teens scrambling out the front door, cheering and swinging themselves about without a care in the world. Steve sighed, hands positioned at his hips, “Downsides of having a big house is that everyone has the party at your place.” Additionally, no guardian in sight.
No parents.
Big house.
Empty, lonely nights.
He found himself cleaning off the counter, muttering something under his breath before turning to you, “Uh, make yourself comfortable.” Steve blinks. “If you can find any spot that isn’t a mess,” He scoffed.
“You sure you don’t want my help..?” You ask, already beginning to pick up trash from the floor.
He nearly flings himself at you to stop you, “You don’t have to help– You’re a guest.”
“I mean, yeah,” Stuffing the garbage full and unfurling the bag from the bin, “But I feel bad.” You shrug. It was instinctive. Wanting to feel useful. Capable. Especially in Steve’s presence no less. That amped up your nature tenfold.
Steve can’t bring himself to argue, secretly thankful that you decided to help out. Crouching to get under the sink cabinet he grabs a cleaner, setting it on the counter. Spraying and wiping it down to rid the smooth countertops of any sticky residue while you tidied up the floor.
“Ever seen it this bad?” You swallowed thickly, trying to make smalltalk was never your thing but you figured you’d at least give it a shot.
“Pfft– I’ve seen it worse.” He looks like he appreciates the conversation, face less mopey now.
“Really? I find that hard to believe.” You snort, “Then again, I've never actually been to a real party before.” Your voice trails off nearing the last half of your sentence, eyes catching his for a mere moment.
His look prodded elaboration, one eyebrow raising inquisitively.
“Ah. Uhm.” You bite your lip, “I.. I’ve been invited to them before.” That wasn’t an attempt at looking cool, you really did, but.. “I’ve just. Declined.” You bend down to pick up a wrapper or two, crumpling it between your palms. “I used to be confident. I used to want to go to parties. I just lost my edge after..” You roll your eyes, “Elementary.”
“Elementary? C’mon,” He didn’t seem convinced, “I’ve seen you. You’re.. Cool.” Steve set down the cleaning supplies, walking around the island to get to you.
You turn, face flushed at the proximity, “Me? Cool? You’re just saying that,”
“I’m not,” He shoves his hands into his pockets, leaning back. “In all honesty, I’m kind of jealous. You’re so..” He gestures vaguely, “Unbothered.”
“Oh, I am far from that,” You laugh at the insinuation.
His face softens a fraction.
“I find that hard to believe. Then again.. I’ve never actually seen the real you.” He uses your own words, eyebrows raising playfully, that signature smirk tugging at his lips again. Confidence regained against all odds.
You weren’t surprised to learn he was sleeping with Nancy Wheeler.