[ 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. ]
[ Jonathan tenses mostly because he wasn't ready for how suddenly Steve moves to catch him. Throws him off for a second, but he does lean as requested. He doesn't so much as glance at Steve though, keeping his eyes on the floor or on the door. ]
Yeah, yeah. Could've hopped there.
[ On his own. But it would have sucked, and he's not really complaining about Steve's help. He's just stupid for not asking for it in the first place and he knows it. ]
[ He rolls his eyes at his insistence of hopping there and is about to fire off a retort before that "thanks" registers. Steve seems briefly taken aback, glancing over at him, puzzled.
And then, he shakes his head. ]
Yeah. Don't mention it. Someone's gotta cover for your stubborn ass.
[ Jonathan never thought Steve would be the guy covering it though. Things have certainly changed really unexpectedly. But he's already said thanks once. Jonathan just manages a wordless noise in what might be agreement, and they're at the door.
Which he does get open by himself (small victories). Fortunately, Joyce is almost pulling in as they make it outside so it's not like they have to wait in awkward silence for too long. ]
[ Steve manages to flash a smile and a wave as Joyce pulls in, helping Jonathan over to the back. Before he opens the door, he glances over at him. ]
At least tell her about what you did to it, yeah?
[ He'd better.
With a smile, Steve opens the back door— ] Evening, Mrs. Byers! [ — and exchanges pleasantries as he helps ("helps" — as in, does his damnedest to make sure Jonathan isn't putting weight on that stupid ankle like a moron) him in. ]
Edited (why didn't my icon take, damn you dw.) 2019-08-10 20:28 (UTC)
[ "Jonathan! Are you okay?" Joyce exclaims as she cranks the window down. She's almost out the door but can tell that Steve seems to have things in hand, so... ]
I'm okay, mom.
[ and to Steve -- ]
I will...
[ He says, mostly under his breath, because this is awkward enough, focusing on getting in the car.
She smiles, even though she's concerned. "Thank you so much, Steve." Joyce makes a mental note that maybe they should have him over for dinner sometime. As thanks for whatever happened here, and just because... well, his house seems so empty. "Is your seatbelt on, Jonathan?"
Jonathan cranks his window down, letting some air into the back seat, and fumbles with the seatbelt as per his mom's request. ]
I'll put more ice on it when I get home.
[ before Steve has a chance to say anything else about it. ]
[ He pulls back, cracking another grin over at him before he pushes the door shut. With another wave to Mrs. Byers, Steve takes a few steps back, up onto his front porch. Hopefully, Mrs. Byers would fuss over Jonathan endlessly and keep him from doing anything else that would qualify as stupid, allowing his ankle to heal. Hopefully.
He waves again at the car before turning to head back inside. ]
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Yeah, yeah. Could've hopped there.
[ On his own. But it would have sucked, and he's not really complaining about Steve's help. He's just stupid for not asking for it in the first place and he knows it. ]
... Thanks.
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And then, he shakes his head. ]
Yeah. Don't mention it. Someone's gotta cover for your stubborn ass.
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Which he does get open by himself (small victories). Fortunately, Joyce is almost pulling in as they make it outside so it's not like they have to wait in awkward silence for too long. ]
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At least tell her about what you did to it, yeah?
[ He'd better.
With a smile, Steve opens the back door— ] Evening, Mrs. Byers! [ — and exchanges pleasantries as he helps ("helps" — as in, does his damnedest to make sure Jonathan isn't putting weight on that stupid ankle like a moron) him in. ]
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I'm okay, mom.
[ and to Steve -- ]
I will...
[ He says, mostly under his breath, because this is awkward enough, focusing on getting in the car.
She smiles, even though she's concerned. "Thank you so much, Steve." Joyce makes a mental note that maybe they should have him over for dinner sometime. As thanks for whatever happened here, and just because... well, his house seems so empty. "Is your seatbelt on, Jonathan?"
Jonathan cranks his window down, letting some air into the back seat, and fumbles with the seatbelt as per his mom's request. ]
I'll put more ice on it when I get home.
[ before Steve has a chance to say anything else about it. ]
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[ He pulls back, cracking another grin over at him before he pushes the door shut. With another wave to Mrs. Byers, Steve takes a few steps back, up onto his front porch. Hopefully, Mrs. Byers would fuss over Jonathan endlessly and keep him from doing anything else that would qualify as stupid, allowing his ankle to heal. Hopefully.
He waves again at the car before turning to head back inside. ]