[ 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. ]
[ In fairness to Jonathan, Steve isn't exactly thinking right himself. Sure, the cuts and bruises that he had courtesy of one Billy Hargrove are slowly fading and the pounding in his head had long since died off, but he's still been distracted.
[ He lowers them after a moment after Jonathan backs off, rolling one shoulder with ease. ]
I should be asking you that. But yeah, I'm good.
[ "Good" is a gross overstatement. He glances over his shoulder, frowning at a few underclassmen who'd stopped to watch the exchange. Rolling his eyes, Steve nods in a direction roughly, sending them scurrying off, before he turns back to Jonathan. ]
Everyone around here's too damn nosy for their own good.
[ Thank god Steve's got a reputation, people listen to him. Jonathan's still the weird guy, no matter what he does - and he's fine with that. But it's nice to have fewer people staring at them. ]
Tell me about it. Blame it on living in a small town, I guess.
[ Whatever he was expecting Jonathan to say, it definitely wasn't that. Steve looks surprised for a brief moment — less like Hawkins High's "King Steve" and more, well. Normal. Normal for Steve, anyway.
But after a moment, he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing out his expression, and nods. ]
[ He doesn't really wait for Steve, though he glances at him before he slides past him, ever seeking the quick escape. There's still a few other students looking in their direction, and Jonathan's eager to get down the hallway and out the door.
But when he is - they're - finally out, he mumbles - ]
[ Steve shoots the students lingering about another glare before gesturing vaguely, as if to wave them off, before turning to saunter after Jonathan. That was the key to everything — act like he knew what he was doing and owned the place, even if he didn't. He never really did.
He pushes at the door behind him with his foot, helping it along as it closes, and shoves his hands in his pockets as he eyes him curiously. ]
I figured as much.
[ He turns to glance over his shoulder briefly, making sure no one's followed them. ]
[ Steve's brows crease slightly at that as he considers. He knew all too well how hard it was not saying anything, keeping it all in — he'd spent nearly a year avoiding talking about it with Nancy until the two of them imploded. It wasn't until Henderson muscled his way into his car and strong-armed him into more of the same that Steve really opened up about it.
Funny, how that had made things better despite everything. He'd rather chase down a pack of pre-teens and keep them from lighting things on fire than listen to Tommy H and Carol prattle on and on miserably.
After a moment, Steve steps over and sits down next to him. ]
Tell me about it. I'll be glad if I never have to look at another stack of papers from the government again.
[ He grabs one wrist with his hand, glancing over at Steve before averting his eyes back to the ground, the corner of his lips tugging into the slightest and tightest of smiles. ]
Seriously. I think my hand still hurts from all that.
[ Jonathan's smile deepens when he glances up at Steve. Maybe it's at the thought of Steve getting beat up. Maybe it's because he's impressed Steve can find humor in something like that. ]
[ It's funny, how he can joke about it. But then again, he can't imagine ever having this sort of conversation with Billy Hargrove. With Jonathan, though — he deserved it, full stop. And, gun to his head, he'd even admit that it was the wake up call he needed. Nothing like getting your ass handed to you by the school loner to make a guy really reflect on his life choices. Or something.
Especially since I'm not interested in trying again. I don't want to end up at the police station a second time.
[ Hell yes, Steve had deserved it. Him and his shitty friends. Though maybe they had deserved it more, thinking back on it. No matter what his relationship with Nancy was like now, back then, it wasn't. And she didn't deserve to be painted with the brush they'd tarred her with. Back then, Steve couldn't and wouldn't have understood. Jonathan wouldn't have chosen him as a confidant, but things had changed... and here they were. ]
[ It comes out without thinking, his fingers curling into a fist. Jonathan hadn't deserved any of it, but Billy sure as hell did. The image of him hoisting Lucas off the ground and pressing him up against the wall is still burned in his head.
His jaw clenches briefly before he shakes his head slowly. ]
[ He nods at the first; Billy Hargrove was grade A trash as far as Jonathan could tell, and he hopes he never has the misfortune to need to deal with him. But that's a small detail when Will comes into the conversation. He lets out a shaky breath that he didn't realize he was holding, just thinking about his brother. ]
Yeah, better. Still kind of recovering. He's got good friends helping him.
[ Jonathan glances away for a second as he continues. ]
Thanks, you know. For being there for them. Don't know what he'd do without them.
[ He doesn't look over at him, shrugging quietly instead. ]
Yeah. It's fine, you know? She— it's fine.
[ Is it fine? It had to be fine. The way he and Nancy had been going wasn't healthy, no matter how either of them looked at it. And he saw how she had looked at Jonathan. And hell, if it had to be anyone, at least it was Jonathan. It's fine. He's fine. ]
[ It's more than just... that. He's not really looking for Steve's acceptance or permission. But like, it would just be easier to be honest about it. No matter his feelings for Nancy, he still feels bad about it. People don't choose him. They choose people like Steve. ]
I mean, you...
[ He's noticed the way Steve looks at Nancy, too. ]
[ At least it wasn't some asshole like Billy Hargrove or Tommy H. Then again, if it had been, Steve could have poured all of his heartache into ragging on them, getting over Nancy Wheeler in his own way. This, this was different.
{ He's brushing it off. Okay, well, makes sense, but Jonathan is tempted to take him at his word on this one. He doesn't want to call Steve his friend, exactly, and probably wouldn't to his face, but they've got this whole situation in common. Fought the demogorgon together. Hell, Steve Harrington saved his life that time. It's kinda like that whole shared trauma bullshit that Murray talked about. Weird thinking about it that way, but it's not... untrue or anything, is it?
He wrings his hands together. ]
I just want you to know that... things sort of just happened, okay?
[ There was no ulterior motive or shit like that. ]
He's not a fool. So when Jonathan says that things "sort of just happened" — he knows. It would hurt more, probably, if their lives weren't insane thanks to the upside-down of it all. But he and Nancy had broken up and coped with the insanity around them differently. For her, it was Jonathan; for him, it was discovering his newfound role as the babysitter of the "party."
It takes him a moment to respond as he processes it quietly, scratching at his cheek. Nancy had tried to say something, hadn't she? But he didn't want her to feel— obligated to him in some way. Hearing it now still stung, but not so much. ]
Don't worry about it. [ a beat. ] Seriously. We're good. Nancy, too.
[ It does hurt, more than he wants to admit, but that's no one's fault, really. He forces a brief half smile as he lowers his hand from his cheek. ]
[ Voice quiet, as always, but there's the sense that he's relieved seeping through. Didn't expect this to come up when he'd run into Steve, but it's better than letting it sit there any longer. He'd apologize for dragging it up but... no. Better not. So instead - ]
Thanks for letting me get some of this off my chest.
[ Steve pauses for a long moment before lifting his hands to scrub at his face, wincing slightly at the ache from his fading bruises. He could just leave it there, leave it at that, but— ]
Turns out, you're one of the few people in this shithole that I actually like. Go figure.
[ Funny, how miserable he'd been around "pleasant" people like Tommy H and Carol and his old social circle. But around Nancy and Jonathan? Despite the heartbreak and the beatdowns and the residual awkwardness that lingered, it was . . . better. ]
YELLS. also let's go with post-s2!
He steps back, holding up his hands. ]
Whoa, whoa. Easy there, Byers.
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Accidents happen.
[ But he sees the hand raising and it's kind of defensive soooo. ]
You okay?
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I should be asking you that. But yeah, I'm good.
[ "Good" is a gross overstatement. He glances over his shoulder, frowning at a few underclassmen who'd stopped to watch the exchange. Rolling his eyes, Steve nods in a direction roughly, sending them scurrying off, before he turns back to Jonathan. ]
Everyone around here's too damn nosy for their own good.
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Tell me about it. Blame it on living in a small town, I guess.
[ he pauses, and then - ]
You want to get out of here?
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But after a moment, he runs a hand through his hair, smoothing out his expression, and nods. ]
Yeah. Yeah, sure, what the hell.
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But when he is - they're - finally out, he mumbles - ]
Just needed some air.
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He pushes at the door behind him with his foot, helping it along as it closes, and shoves his hands in his pockets as he eyes him curiously. ]
I figured as much.
[ He turns to glance over his shoulder briefly, making sure no one's followed them. ]
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[ About "stuff." It's always about "stuff." He walks down the steps to the pavement, and sits on the bottom step. ]
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Funny, how that had made things better despite everything. He'd rather chase down a pack of pre-teens and keep them from lighting things on fire than listen to Tommy H and Carol prattle on and on miserably.
After a moment, Steve steps over and sits down next to him. ]
Tell me about it. I'll be glad if I never have to look at another stack of papers from the government again.
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Seriously. I think my hand still hurts from all that.
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Byers, I hate to break it to you, but—
[ And then, there's just a bit of playfulness sneaking into his voice. ]
— Hargrove hits a hell of a lot harder than you.
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No, really?
[ Jonathan's smile deepens when he glances up at Steve. Maybe it's at the thought of Steve getting beat up. Maybe it's because he's impressed Steve can find humor in something like that. ]
Maybe I just wasn't trying that hard.
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He nudges Jonathan in the side with his elbow. ]
Or maybe you got lucky. We'll never know.
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[ Hell yes, Steve had deserved it. Him and his shitty friends. Though maybe they had deserved it more, thinking back on it. No matter what his relationship with Nancy was like now, back then, it wasn't. And she didn't deserve to be painted with the brush they'd tarred her with. Back then, Steve couldn't and wouldn't have understood. Jonathan wouldn't have chosen him as a confidant, but things had changed... and here they were. ]
You got me pretty good that time too.
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[ It comes out without thinking, his fingers curling into a fist. Jonathan hadn't deserved any of it, but Billy sure as hell did. The image of him hoisting Lucas off the ground and pressing him up against the wall is still burned in his head.
His jaw clenches briefly before he shakes his head slowly. ]
How's Will doing? Better?
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Yeah, better. Still kind of recovering. He's got good friends helping him.
[ Jonathan glances away for a second as he continues. ]
Thanks, you know. For being there for them. Don't know what he'd do without them.
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They're good kids. [ a beat. ] Don't tell them I said that, though. Henderson's got a big enough head already.
[ He says as though he hasn't already driven Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Max to the arcade twice in the past week. ]
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[ He manages another smile. Dustin would get like that.
Since he's getting some stuff off of his chest, he might as well say what else is running through his mind. Thanks for the boys, and thanks for... ]
And... Thanks for...
[ Okay this isn't easy to say, and he wets his lips before he glances over at Steve, not really certain how he's gonna take this. ]
I really appreciate that you made Nancy come with Will and Mom and me.
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Yeah. It's fine, you know? She— it's fine.
[ Is it fine? It had to be fine. The way he and Nancy had been going wasn't healthy, no matter how either of them looked at it. And he saw how she had looked at Jonathan. And hell, if it had to be anyone, at least it was Jonathan. It's fine. He's fine. ]
Sounded like you guys needed the help, anyway.
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[ It's more than just... that. He's not really looking for Steve's acceptance or permission. But like, it would just be easier to be honest about it. No matter his feelings for Nancy, he still feels bad about it. People don't choose him. They choose people like Steve. ]
I mean, you...
[ He's noticed the way Steve looks at Nancy, too. ]
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He shrugs again. ]
Yeah. It's fine, Byers.
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He wrings his hands together. ]
I just want you to know that... things sort of just happened, okay?
[ There was no ulterior motive or shit like that. ]
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He's not a fool. So when Jonathan says that things "sort of just happened" — he knows. It would hurt more, probably, if their lives weren't insane thanks to the upside-down of it all. But he and Nancy had broken up and coped with the insanity around them differently. For her, it was Jonathan; for him, it was discovering his newfound role as the babysitter of the "party."
It takes him a moment to respond as he processes it quietly, scratching at his cheek. Nancy had tried to say something, hadn't she? But he didn't want her to feel— obligated to him in some way. Hearing it now still stung, but not so much. ]
Don't worry about it. [ a beat. ] Seriously. We're good. Nancy, too.
[ It does hurt, more than he wants to admit, but that's no one's fault, really. He forces a brief half smile as he lowers his hand from his cheek. ]
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[ Voice quiet, as always, but there's the sense that he's relieved seeping through. Didn't expect this to come up when he'd run into Steve, but it's better than letting it sit there any longer. He'd apologize for dragging it up but... no. Better not. So instead - ]
Thanks for letting me get some of this off my chest.
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[ Steve pauses for a long moment before lifting his hands to scrub at his face, wincing slightly at the ache from his fading bruises. He could just leave it there, leave it at that, but— ]
Turns out, you're one of the few people in this shithole that I actually like. Go figure.
[ Funny, how miserable he'd been around "pleasant" people like Tommy H and Carol and his old social circle. But around Nancy and Jonathan? Despite the heartbreak and the beatdowns and the residual awkwardness that lingered, it was . . . better. ]
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