open rp post.

[bestfeature]

[ open rp post! also for continuations from elsewhere / overflow / whatever. drop a prompt here or make me drop a prompt or whatever. please rp with me okay. ]

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[bestfeature]

This far? In the dark? What the hell were you thinking?

[ He's not mad, necessarily. If anything, he sounds like someone's mom. ]

[slr]

I was taking pictures of the sky.

[ He feels that should be self-explanatory. And he almost feels like he needs to do that explanation at the tone of Steve's voice, weird. ]

I didn't really need the flashlight until just a few minutes ago.

[bestfeature]

[ He just stares at him for a long moment before shaking his head in annoyance. ]

Seriously . . .

[slr]

Seriously.

[ Was that a question or not, oh well. Jonathan shifts awkwardly on his foot, wincing beneath his bangs and then looks at Steve again, remembering an earlier thought that had vacated the premises when he was facing that bat. ]

Can I use your phone?

[bestfeature]

Yeah, sure, just— get over here already.

[ He turns back towards a house, waving a hand. follow me, loser. ]

[slr]

Yeah, sure.

[ He takes a tentative step with his ankle, kinda thankful that Steve isn't watching. Especially because it hurts worse than he wants to admit. ]

Shit...

[ is hissed out under his breath, but he's trying. ]

[bestfeature]

[ It becomes apparent to him pretty quickly that Jonathan is not, in fact, right behind him. With a huff, Steve turns back towards him. ]

Hey, dickhead, what's the hold up?

[slr]

Don't worry about it.

[ He winces as he takes another step - but ultimately doesn't complain and continues to shuffle along behind Steve. He's already asked to use his phone. And Steve is clearly pissed and who could blame him. ]

[bestfeature]

[ Pissed? Well— yeah, he is, but the slightest bit of concern crosses over his face as well. Jonathan's never been an athlete or anything, but Steve has, and he can recognize a few telltale signs. As they make their way back to the house, he glances over his shoulder. ]

You hurt yourself or something?

[slr]

Or something.

[ Clearly he's hurt himself but again - Jonathan's not gonna bother with it. He's used to walking through any injuries he has and dealing with them by himself. This especially applies to something so stupid and mundane and that's entirely his fault. ]

It's nothing, okay?

[bestfeature]

[ He eyes him flatly for a moment before turning, heading back to the house through the garage, only taking a brief moment to slip the nailbat back into his trunk. It seems like he might even let it go.

Except once they enter the house, Steve tosses a thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the couch. ]

Sit.

[ He's not asking. ]

[slr]

[ He's thankful for the lack of chatter on it, and when he gets inside he's got his weight on his good foot and is already looking around for the phone, hoping it's not too far, but then... ]

Come on, Steve.

[ This is already awkward enough, a slightly disappointed look on his face. Just... let him use the phone. ]

[bestfeature]

[ His need to be cool and to keep things from being awkward is vastly, vastly outweighed by his mom friend status. So when Jonathan protests, Steve puts a hand on his hip, pointing again with his other hand. ]

Sit, dipshit. You think I don't know what an injury like that looks like? I've been playing basketball ever since I was ten.

[ And there's nothing awkward about it on his end anymore either. If anything, he's just, well. Annoyed. ]

[slr]

[ "I'm not one of the kids, you know?" "You could just let me use your phone and I'd be out of here, okay?" "What the hell, Steve?" All things going through Jonathan's brain right now. He also knows Steve well enough that he doesn't really... give up, sometimes to his detriment.

All he manages is to shrug-- ]

So?

[ But he does edge closer to the couch, glancing at him warily. ]

[bestfeature]

[ Steve just stares at him in disbelief at first. like, really. is this really how it's going to be. ]

Dude, you were the one stomping around in my backyard. You lost your say.

[slr]

[ Jesus. Steve used to be his bully and now he's just. This is something else. Concern. Still bossy as hell though. He's starting to get the feeling even if he could get to the phone, Steve wouldn't let him use the damn thing. He glances away, trying not to roll his eyes (and failing.)

This is... shitty. But he hates that look, so much. ]

Fine. But it's not a big deal.

[ And he sits down on the couch. He wasn't stomping. ]

I can call home and get our of your hair.

[bestfeature]

[ Once he's satisfied that Jonathan is going to sit down, he heads into the kitchen, grabbing a baggie and stuffing it full of ice before wrapping it in a kitchen towel. He steps back into the other room and grabs the phone from a side table nearby, dragging it over to the couch and plopping it down nearby, the cord tangling around the coffee table haphazardly. ]

You're not in my hair. [ He rolls his eyes back at him, nodding at his leg. ] Let's see it.

[slr]

[ Glancing at the phone, Jonathan doesn't bother to make a reach for it because Steve's focused. This is... look. Jonathan doesn't like relying on other people. Letting other people lean on him, sure. So this doesn't sit well with him. It's doubly strange given who is trying to help him. His hesitance is clear in his posture, hands on his legs and sitting too upright on the couch.

But he'd caved so he'll deal. Like he always does.

Fingers curl in his pants leg and he pulls his jeans up to uncover his ankle. Not broken, not bleeding - well, okay there are a few scrapes, but - it's just swollen and bruised, mottled purple. ]

No big deal.

[bestfeature]

No big deal? What the hell, man?

[ With an annoyed grunt, Steve leans in to inspect his ankle. He frowns, looking back up at Jonathan. ]

It's a sprain, moron. Ever had one before?

[ As he speaks, he pulls back, picking up the makeshift ice pack and holding it out to him. ]

[slr]

Yeah.

[ cross country, track, it's not like he's never been hurt doing that before and sprains were pretty normal - but he'll admit that he's never hurt his ankle this bad, no matter what he's claiming.

Grabbing the ice pack, Jonathan presses it against the side of his foot for a moment as he leans forward. ]

It could be worse.

[bestfeature]

Christ.

[ Steve shakes his head as he straightens up, dusting himself off. His gaze lingers on Jonathan's ankle for a moment before he glances back over at him. Concern mixes in with his annoyance; despite his words, his tone tells a different story, more jabbing lightly than actually coming at him. ]

Doesn't mean it's good. You remember Jimmy Fitzgerald? He was the center on the basketball team. "Was" — idiot pushed through a sprain and messed up his ankle real good. Colleges were scouting him, too.

[ He steps over to another couch in the room, grabbing a few pillows and brings them back over to plop them down next to Jonathan. ]

— elevate it. And don't even start with the "well I'm not playing basketball so it's not so bad" shit, you're not doing it any favors stumbling back in the dark.

[slr]

[ Jonathan just sighs, shifting around on the couch so he can put his foot up on the pillows with the ice pack leaning against the ugly swelling. This isn't worth arguing over, he tells himself over and over. How did you know he wanted to say something about his non-existent chances at basketball? Besides, he's had worse injuries, so what if they were unrelated to sports. Hell, Steve did too.

He ends up half slouched there, still not reaching for the phone. ]

Compared to things, this isn't bad. Besides, you shouldn't talk.

[bestfeature]

Wow, Byers, it's like you're trying to be rude as hell.

[ He's not offended or anything, though, shrugging his shoulders as he sits down on the floor by the couch. ]

But you're right, this isn't bad compared to anything else. You're not concussed and trying to keep four preteens from getting themselves killed in death tunnels, so you can actually stop and take care of yourself.

[slr]

[ He presses his lips together in a tight line, tilting his head to look down at his foot - and Steve. Annoying how he has a point, and he's snappy when he says it, and Jonathan hates how he doesn't have some smart comeback for it. ]

It's not-- I just, I could manage on my own with something like this.

[bestfeature]

Okay, but— it doesn't have to be like that.

[ And he feels a bit hypocritical, after he dodged talking about everything not too long ago. But also, he can't leave this alone. Maybe a year or so ago he could, but that was then. ]

What, are you too good for my help or something?