bestfeature | open rp post.

[ Jonathan can feel his jaw tensing at the question. It's not like that at all. He's just gone so long with so little help - he had to be so much more than a kid. He was the one his family relied on. So dealing with stuff on his own was just something he was used to, and something he didn't expect from people.

He stays silent for a moment longer as he tries to come up some excuse that doesn't sound shitty. Except he can't. ]

It's not that. Trust me, it's not.

[ Steve eyes him warily, almost resigned at this point. It's hard, with all the history between them — with that and how desperately he wants to move past it. He should have known better; it would never be that easy.

Slowly, he shakes his head. ]

Yeah. Okay.

[ There's a bit of disbelief in his voice as he pushes himself up off the floor. ]

Phone's there.

[ God, he hates the change in tone, but Jonathan doesn't - or rather, can't, say anything right away. His muscles and his feelings are too tightly wound and he hates that, too. But he remembers the talk they'd had a few days ago and he knows Steve deserves more than just leaving at that. He's offering just like Jonathan had the other day and this time, Jonathan's being the stupid one for not taking him up on it.

Steve gets up and Jonathan chews the inside of his lip, debating. ]

It's... it's not because of you.

[ The words are mumbled, stumbling out in that awkward way Jonathan has sometimes. It's not because of who they both used to be and how their relationship had been.

His hands rub his legs over his jeans and he's found a really interesting spot on the floor to stare at. ]

— huh?

[ He stops where he stands, turning back over to Jonathan. It's not often that Steve finds himself caught off guard — well, excluding anything Nancy or Dustin would have had a hand in one way or another, anyway — but that's exactly what happens as he furrows his brows. ]

I said it's not you.

[ He manages to lift his eyes from the floor but he still doesn't look at Steve. Steve doesn't know the details and, as usual, Jonathan is more than a little reticent on talking about them. It's one thing to talk about the demogorgon, the demodogs, Eleven, and all that, but the other stuff? Stuff that's been a burden his entire life? He knows exactly why he's holding back, and no matter how good it had been to let some of that go in the past - it's still hard.

Another pause. ]

It's not your help that I have a problem with.

[ His hands curl into fists on his pants, bitten nails pressing into his palms. ]

Edited 2019-07-31 21:56 (UTC)

[ Steve eyes him for a long moment, gaze drifting down to his hands — his fists — and it hits him, quietly.

Oh.

Shit. Here he was, making it about himself again, when it didn't have anything to do with him at all, not really. It had never been about him at all. Jonathan's always been a little — okay, well, a lot — different from everyone else, but Steve had never really considered what that meant. Then again, with how many walls he himself had thrown up the other day, maybe they weren't as different as he'd thought.

There's a long, quiet moment as Steve considers this, tipping his head to the side, his expression softening slightly. ]

. . . Okay. [ A beat. ] So, like, if I get you something to drink, are you going to be cool or are you going to spill it all over yourself and my couch because your wrists are banged up too or something?

[ He's thankful that Steve doesn't press it, so much so that his hands relax slightly against his legs, fists not curled nearly so tight. He'll take even a shred of understanding - it's more than he can ask for, given that he's not quite ready to spill his guts about his whole life, and his dad. ]

Uh, yeah. I'll be cool.

[ Finally he looks up at Steve, face still tight, but it's better than it was. ]

Wrists are fine.

[ to prove his point, he uncurls his right hand and tests his wrist out. Just fine. ]

Cool.

[ He flashes him a grin before turning and walking back towards the kitchen. He makes a point of going about it a bit more slowly than he normally would, to give Jonathan an opportunity to use the phone and unwind or something. Whatever.

Then again, when he'd do this for friends before ("friends"), it was always an easy matter of popping open the fridge, grabbing a couple of beers, and heading back out. This time, he opens up a cabinet and takes out a glass, filling it up with ice and water, and then brings it back out. ]

What'd you do, anyway? Trip or something?

[ He could call, but he's still too mired in his own thoughts. He needs that time to chill, just a little. Besides, by car, he's like 5 minutes away. Mom can get here in no time. Or he could just walk, he tells himself. Like a liar - even with the ice, it stings like hell, and an experimental rotation of his ankle doesn't give him much faith that he'd make it back any time soon.

Not to mention, Steve probably wouldn't let him even try it, with the way he's acting today.

Jonathan puts his camera on the end table nearest the couch, only looking up when Steve returns with the glass. ]

Uh, yeah. Everything's so overgrown. So, it happens. My own fault.

Some coordination.

[ He's not wrong, though. The woods in their area have always been kind of rough, and no one's really wanted to go out there to, well, clean things up after everything that's happened. Besides, it's the woods. That's how they are. Whatever.

Steve settles back in on the floor by the couch, leaning against it with his hands flat on the floor. He briefly glances over at his beef can at the other end of the table — half-empty, probably — from where he'd discarded it when he'd heard noises. ]

Should've been using the flashlight.

[ He admits it, because it's true, he's an idiot. His coordination isn't usually that bad that he'd fall the way he did. ]

Camera's okay though.

[ Clearly that's what matters??? ]

Wait. Wait, you had a flashlight on you?

[ Oh yeah, didn't he say something like that before? About not needing it until— ]

Dude. Come on.

I needed both hands for the camera.

[ This should be obvious. Also, obvious that the photos would be his priority. He makes another experimental stretch of his ankle. ]

Dude.

[ He sounds so disappointed. ]

You need, like, light and stuff to see and use the damn camera.

It's-- the light would ruin the pictures I was trying to get. Of the stars.

[ He immediately feels a little stupid saying that, all of it. He's not wrong, but like, admitting he was out wandering the woods just to take pictures of that is pretty lame.

Not that this is an unusual feeling for him, though. ]

[ Not that long ago, he absolutely would have made fun of him for that. But then again, not that long ago, he didn't care about Jonathan Byers at all. Now, though, he— well, he doesn't get it, not really, but what he does get is that it's important to him, and isn't that enough? Like the kids and their dumb games. Or him and his "stupid" sports, thanks Mike.

So instead, he sighs deeply, rubbing at his forehead. ]

Jesus. Take someone next time, then? Or, I don't know, use the light, stop, turn off the light, and then take the picture? Common sense, man.

No one's going to go with me.

[ Something he's used to, and fine with, really. He dares to crack half a smile. He does appreciate what Steve's saying even if he's stubborn about it. ]

And if they did, you'd get pissed off at them and probably ditch them. Or you'd take 'em to a dump.

[ He gives him a smirk at that. It's been a few days; he can laugh about it now. Because really, the junkyard? Jesus, Byers. Take your friends somewhere that doesn't stink at least. ]

That's why I said common sense with a flashlight.

I'll make a deal with you. Daylight hours only. For a while at least.

[ the attempt at a joke isn't lost on him, and even Jonathan's voice carries a hint of humor to it. ]

I won't rule out the dump, though.

[ He seems a bit surprised by that — mostly at the "make a deal" part, though. ]

You don't— [ There's a pause and he runs a hand through his hair. "You don't have to make a deal with me or whatever" he wants to say, but. What's the point, really? He sighs. ] At least until you master the whole camera and flashlight handling thing. Fine.

[ There's another long pause as he lowers his hands, contemplating something. He knows what he'll probably open himself up to with this, but— that's fine, isn't it? If Jonathan Byers could do it, then Steve could stop being a damn hypocrite himself. ]

Hey, how'd those pictures turn out?

[ He doesn't need to "make a deal" and the phrase just comes out naturally. But, you know, since they're... whatever the hell they are, friends, friendly, more than mere acquaintances thanks to the Upside Down - chances are they'll keep running into each other. Dealing with each other. And to be honest, Jonathan needs some sort of obligation sometimes, just not to go out and do his own thing. His family is what usually grounds him. But when it comes to photography, he doesn't have it.

Anyway ]

Sure.

[ And he takes a sip of water. ]

I didn't develop all of them, but the ones I did came out pretty nice.

[ The negatives were enough when it came to the scratch marks he'd seen, and he'd already known enough about them by that point. He falls silent after that because, what, is he supposed to offer to show them to Steve? Not that they're here, in any case, but... ]

Yeah? Guess those demodogs or whatever didn't mess the place up too badly. [ He gestures vaguely. ] I mean, junkyard, but still. Assholes.

[ Maybe it's easier being open about it all because they're not right there, or maybe it's because it's less awkward than what they'd been touching on before. And if he can keep Jonathan sitting and icing his stupid ankle, well. bonus. ]

[ It was never about the mess or whatever, but the intrinsic - you know, he's not going to argue with Steve about it, Jonathan closing his eyes and taking another mouthful of water to mask the sigh. ]

Definitely assholes. Ones that I never want to see again.

[ Unlike other assholes? Who knows. ]

[ Wow he is TRYING to share things with you, Jonathan Byers. With the key word there being "trying" and he's not doing a very good job of it, either. Which he seems to realize, rubbing at his hands as he nods in agreement with Jonathan's statement. ]

. . . Yeah. We, uh. We lured them there. I mean, it was only supposed to be one — the one that, you know, ate Dustin's cat, but.

[ Steve gestures vaguely. ]

[ It's actually kind of startling how little Jonathan knew about everything else that had gone on those few days. He'd been so caught up with Nancy's plan and what they needed to do - for Barb - that he'd missed so, so much. And he's still mad at himself about it, honestly. Those kids were so lucky to have Steve around, even if... Well, it was clear that shit had gone bad.

Most of what Jonathan knew was second hand information through Will, who had heard it from Mike and the guys. The party kept each other in the loop, that was one of the rules.

He still winces when Steve mentions the cat, though, Because, holy shit. ]

Who could have known that there was more than just one? Seems like something people would have noticed.

[ Even if luring a monster like that anywhere was crazy - and this time, Jonathan doesn't exactly have room to talk. ]

Wish you had more help that night.

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