zach75
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"Jonathan is pretty used to taking risks. Hell, even being around Steve is risky. But a one-in-three chance of kissing Steve shakes him to his core. He wonders if Steve is thinking the same thing. Probably not. Steve never seems anxious about anything. The bottle slows and lands almost perfectly dead center on Steve. Fuck"
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Steve and Jonathan kiss during a game of spin the bottle and it sends Jonathan spiraling.
Bookmarked by zach75
29 May 2026
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“Are you comparing my relationship with Jonathan to the Fall of the Roman Empire?” Steve asked Robin. “Because even I think that’s a little dramatic.”
Robin snorted.
“No,” she shrugged. "The history between you two is so much less important than the disintegration of European superpowers. But," she added, "it's hard to forget pain. You want to know what’s even harder to remember?”
“What?” he dared to ask.
“Sweetness. We have no scars to remember happiness by. But acts of violence? Of destruction? Of personal moral failings? Those are the things that matter. Those are the things that people carry with them.” Then, she reached over and lifted up his hand, flipping it over to observe his knuckles: there was a long, red line that wrapped up and around his wrist and her thumb brushed alongside the skin where it was silvery and smooth. Steve knew exactly where the mark had come from, and so did Robin. “So how many scars did you leave Jonathan with?” she then asked.
Again, Steve paused.
“I don’t know,” he finally answered honestly as Robin’s hand dropped. But if he had to think about it, there must have been a few.
Bookmarked by zach75
04 Jul 2026
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As a child, the most terrifying thing Steve could possibly fathom was falling from a great height. Airplanes, buildings, space—most kids were afraid of spiders or the dark—but Steve feared seeing the end coming, hurtling towards the ground at machspeed, because unlike the characters in the Saturday morning cartoons he watched, he knew he wasn't going to squish down like an accordion and spring back up all creased and folded. No—he knew what would happen, and for the longest of time he refused to even climb up onto a ladder.
Now, as a young adult, the most terrifying thing he could think of was Jonathan Byers when he was angry.
Bookmarked by zach75
02 Jul 2026
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Jonathan moves like he’s trying to recreate a painting he’s never seen, one that’s been vaguely described to him. And Steve thinks that there’s some part, deep down, that does remember him, because, as unfamiliar with this person as he is, Jonathan still kisses him the way he used to.
Bookmarked by zach75
08 Jun 2026
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“Age of Consent” by New Order blares out, loud enough for Jonathan to hear across the room. He had been there when Steve chose it a few months ago during another war room: “‘Age of Consent’ is good, I guess.”
“It can’t be I guess, dingus! It has to be enough to save you from a brutal interdimensional death!” Robin snapped.
Steve had rolled his eyes. “What’s Vecna gonna want with me anyways, Rob? I’ll do ‘Age of Consent.’”
Jonathan had known, that night, that it might be the wrong choice. But he didn’t say anything because it had been years and he could be wrong and maybe some selfish, petty part of him didn’t want to give Steve the satisfaction of Jonathan still knowing.
Something lifts Steve off of the couch.
“It’s not working!” Robin screams.
And Jonathan knows why it isn’t working. He remembers. Whatever high school bullshit Steve has put him through doesn’t particularly matter in the face of watching him be destroyed and turned inside out. So Jonathan, calmer than he feels, says, “It’s Hank Williams. Do you have Hank Williams?”
Bookmarked by zach75
02 Jun 2026