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Steve isn’t sure how it happened, but somehow, he seems to have accidentally befriended his ex and her new boyfriend.
If he had to guess, it happened as a side effect of their most recent near-death experience at the mall over the summer. That, or it’s a proximity thing; Nancy and Jonathan pick up movies for their siblings from Family Video at least once a week, and nearly always while Steve happens to be working. And so now they’re…friends. Somehow.
At first, it was awkward, but now, four months later, the three of them seem to have fallen into a natural sort of rhythm when making conversation. Steve will ask about school, Nancy and Jonathan will ask about work, and then they’ll trade stories back and forth about what Dustin and the rest of the kids are up to while Steve tries very hard not to feel a stab of jealousy whenever Jonathan wraps an arm around Nancy’s shoulder. But honestly, it isn’t so bad. Before Dustin and Robin, Nancy was the only person in Steve’s life who ever listened or even really cared, and as pathetic as it sounds, it’s just nice to have her back in his life in some capacity. Bizarrely, it’s just as nice to be friendly with Jonathan now, too, which is maybe a weird way to feel about your ex’s new boyfriend. But Jonathan has good taste in music, and he’s surprisingly funny, sometimes, and really, Steve’s kind of just glad he’s forgiven for…well, everything that went down in 1983.
So it’s chill the three of them are friends now. Seriously, it’s good. Things are…good.
Except for the fact that Nancy and Jonathan keep inviting him to stuff.
Sometimes they ask him to help the two of them keep an eye on the kids when they have movie nights in the Wheelers’ basement. Other times, they ask if he wants to grab some food after his shift or hang out in the library while they study. A few times, they’ve asked him out just to get dinner. As in, just the three of them.
Steve isn’t sure, but he thinks all the invites to hang out are because Nancy and Jonathan feel bad for him. After all, it only started after Steve repeatedly assured them that he and Robin were not, in fact, dating, like Nancy and Jonathan and Dustin and nearly everyone else assumed. And it makes sense, doesn’t it? Steve and Nancy were together, and now they aren’t, because Nancy got with Jonathan while she and Steve were kind of broken up, but also kind of not broken up officially, and now Steve is single and they feel bad about it.
He knows he shouldn’t be encouraging it. He isn’t even lonely! He has Robin. And a paid job at Family Video, plus an unpaid job as Dustin’s babysitter-slash-chauffeur. He has plenty to keep him busy. Besides, the idea of it — going to dinner and hanging out with his ex and her boyfriend — should be weird. It is weird, even if the three of them are friends now.
And yet, Steve usually finds himself saying yes anyway. In fact, it’s hard to tell himself he shouldn’t, because…well, he enjoys spending time with Nancy and Jonathan. He likes hearing Nancy rant about the paper she got a 99 on that should’ve been a 100, likes listening to Jonathan talk about some album that Steve is an uncultured heathen for never having heard of, likes when Nancy and Jonathan laugh while Steve recounts a stupid argument with Dustin, and he likes when he makes a teasing remark and Nancy swats his shoulder and Jonathan rolls his eyes with a small grin while Steve’s chest starts feeling weirdly fluttery and warm, and —
Anyway. The point is, Steve likes it. Because even though he isn’t lonely, even though he has Robin and Dustin and everyone else, he’s still pathetic, so he almost always agrees to hang out. So in early February, when Nancy and Jonathan offhandedly ask Steve if he wants to go to the movies with them that Friday, he says yes.
It isn’t until Steve gets home that night and checks the calendar that he realizes Friday is Valentine’s Day.
“I should cancel, right?” Steve says to Robin the next day.
“Why would you cancel?” Robin asks without looking up from the VHS case she’s stickering.
“Uh, I don’t know, because making plans on Valentine’s Day with your ex and her boyfriend is weird?”
Robin huffs, long-suffering, blowing her bangs off her forehead in the process.
“Seriously, though,” Steve presses. “It’s weird, right?”
Robin shrugs, infuriatingly unbothered. “I don’t know. Maybe they just forgot what day it was.”
Steve sighs. “Nah. They wouldn’t forget something like that. They’re, like, happy together and shit.”
“Okay, well, maybe they have Valentine’s Day plans earlier in the day. Or, maybe they think Valentine’s Day is a capitalist scam.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. Sure, Jonathan might seem like the type, but Steve doubts it. Jonathan is one of those people who acts all cynical but is actually super sentimental. And Nancy? She definitely isn’t the type. Back when they were dating —
Nope. Not going there.
Steve takes a deep breath. “I just think it’s – ”
“Weird?” Robin suggests wryly.
“Yes!” Steve says. “I mean, why would they even ask me to hang out with them on Valentine’s Day, of all days?” He chews his lip. “Do you think they’re…I don’t know. Trying to rub their relationship in my face, or whatever?”
Robin gives him a flat look. “Steve. C’mon. Do you really think Nancy would do that to you?”
“No,” he mutters.
He knows she wouldn’t, actually. Sure, Steve might have been a shitty boyfriend, and maybe their relationship had crashed and burned, but Nancy would never be that cruel.
“But still,” Steve adds. “Why invite me at all?”
Robin stops stickering her VHS tapes long enough to give Steve a long, critical look.
“What?” Steve says.
Robin lets out a weary huff and turns back to her tapes. “Nothing.”
“Robin – ”
“Look, dingus,” she interrupts. “If you don’t wanna go, then just cancel.”
Steve fidgets with his scanner, hesitating.
“Or,” he says. “Maybe they’ll realize their mistake tomorrow, or something. Maybe they’ll cancel.”
Robin barely conceals an eye roll. “Yeah, Steve. Maybe.”
But Nancy and Jonathan don’t cancel the next day. Or the day after that. And Steve never reaches out to cancel, either. Which means that on Friday, February 14th, at 6:00 PM, he shows up at The Hawk to meet Nancy and Jonathan so they can go see…
“Clue?” Steve asks as he peers up at the marquee.
“It was the only thing that looked good,” Nancy explains, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She’s been growing it out, so it’s just past her shoulders now, but she’s still sporting the same bangs she had this summer, just a bit longer and a little more unruly. “Have you seen it?”
“Robin and I saw it in December,” Steve admits. They’d gone up to Indianapolis on a Saturday — because Robin likes the shops, and Steve likes hanging out with Robin — and they’d watched a matinee showing while they were there.
“Oh,” Jonathan says.
His hair’s grown out a little, too — like how he’d worn it his and Nancy’s junior year, but even less bowl-y. Steve can’t help but notice it looks a little different tonight, though. Like Nancy convinced him to use some hairspray or something. His clothes are different from the hole-y shirts and flannels he usually wears, too — instead, Jonathan is wearing a muted red sweater and black jeans that nicely compliment Nancy’s red striped dress. Steve feels a little underdressed in comparison, actually; all he’s wearing is jeans and a long-sleeved pink polo.
“Well, we don’t have to see a movie,” Nancy says. “We could get dinner, or – ”
“No, it’s fine,” Steve says quickly. “The movie was good. It’s – I’m fine seeing it again.”
He means it, too. Actually, he’s a little relieved; he was scared Nancy and Jonathan had invited him to see a rom-com or something. But Clue is good. It’s safe. It’s normal. This doesn’t have to be weird if all they’re seeing is Clue.
“Okay,” Jonathan says, but he doesn’t sound convinced.
There’s an awkward beat of silence, then Nancy clears her throat. “So, should we go in?”
They enter the theater lobby, which is of course filled with couples out on a date. Steve half-expects Nancy and Jonathan to notice and realize their mistake; expects them to apologize, turn around, walk out the door, and leave Steve behind so they can celebrate Valentine’s Day on their own.
But they don’t. Instead, Nancy and Jonathan stride toward the line for concessions, and Steve follows helplessly after them.
Maybe Robin was right, he thinks. Maybe they don’t realize it’s Valentine’s Day, or they just don’t care. Maybe the red clothes are a coincidence. Or maybe, they celebrated together with dinner after school, and figured that while they were out they’d see a movie with a friend. Kill two birds with one stone, or whatever. It’s possible.
But whatever the case, Nancy and Jonathan clearly don’t feel weird about this. So, Steve abruptly decides not to, either. And to show exactly how not weird he’s being, Steve digs for his wallet. He figures it’s only fair that he pays for the popcorn since Nancy and Jonathan bought their tickets, but just as Steve frees his wallet, Jonathan says, “Steve, you don’t have to do that.”
It didn’t take Steve long to realize Jonathan was weird about money; specifically, people paying for him. He gets defensive every time Steve tries to give him something for free at Family Video, like he thinks Steve thinks of him as a charity case, or something. Assumedly, this will be another one of those times. But when Steve looks over at him, Jonathan says, “Seriously, it’s fine. Nance and I were the ones that asked you.”
Steve frowns. “But you guys paid for the tickets.”
Jonathan frowns back. “Well, yeah. Because we asked you.”
“What the hell does that have to do with – ”
“Too late,” Nancy chirps, and Steve looks up to see her sliding her purse onto her shoulder, a giant bucket of popcorn tucked under one arm.
Steve blinks.
Nancy smirks, then jerks her head toward the back. “C’mon. We’re in Theater 3.”
They grab their seats in a row near the back. Nancy sits down first, grabbing a seat toward the middle, but when Steve tries to hang back so Jonathan can step around him and take the seat next to Nancy, Jonathan just…doesn’t. Instead, he takes the seat that’s one away from her, leaving an empty seat between the two of them, and Steve with no choice but to take it.
But it’s fine. This isn’t weird, right? It’s just Clue, with three friends, on a day that happens to be Valentine’s Day.
Nothing weird at all.
They make idle commentary during the trailers but go silent once the movie starts. Nancy and Jonathan adamantly hate talking in the theater, which Steve finds annoying since he loves to yap. But it’s also admittedly endearing, so Steve stays quiet, too, taking the popcorn bucket and balancing it between his legs so that both Nancy and Jonathan can reach it. A couple of times, Steve’s hand bumps into Nancy’s or Jonathan’s in his attempts to retrieve more popcorn, but Steve pretends to ignore this. Just like he pretends to ignore the feeling of Nancy’s knee pressed into his, and like he pretends to ignore that he can smell Jonathan’s cologne when they’re sitting this close together.
Steve didn’t even know Jonathan wore cologne. If he weren’t ignoring it, he’d probably think it smelled nice. But he is, so he doesn’t think anything about it at all, and focuses on the movie instead.
It’s when they’re approaching the end of the movie that Steve starts sneaking glances at Nancy and Jonathan. He wants to make sure he catches their exact reaction to the ending. When Steve saw it with Robin, she grabbed his arm and shrieked “I knew it!” when Scarlet pulled the revolver on Wadsworth. They got several dirty looks while leaving the theater.
But then…Scarlet doesn’t pull the revolver on Wadsworth. Instead, it’s Green who ends up with the gun. And Scarlet never confesses to killing Yvette or the other victims, because everyone starts confessing to different murders, and then Wadsworth reveals that he’s the real Boddy, and —
“What the hell?” Steve says. “This is a completely different movie.”
Nancy glances over, brow furrowed. “What?”
“This is a completely different movie,” Steve stresses. “This isn’t how it happened. It’s supposed to be Scarlet who – ”
The couple sitting in front of them abruptly turns around to shush Steve, eyes narrowed.
“Well, it is!” Steve hisses.
“Steve,” Jonathan whispers.
“What?”
“Every movie theater has a different ending.”
Steve turns to stare at him. “What?”
“Yeah. I read an article about it.”
Steve stares for a moment longer, then utters, “What the hell.”
Jonathan lets out a snort, right as Nancy elbows Steve, shushing them both, but when Steve glances back at her, there’s a smile on her face she isn’t even bothering to hide.
“I thought it was really good,” Nancy comments later as they’re leaving the theater.
“It was alright,” Jonathan says, but there’s amusement lacing his tone.
Nancy rolls her eyes. “What, was it not artsy enough for you?”
“No – ”
“Just because it was in color and it didn’t have French subtitles – ”
“Oh, stop it,” Jonathan says, nudging her, but he’s laughing, and Nancy grins back at him.
Steve hangs back, walking a bit behind them, and it strikes him, just like it always does, how natural Nancy and Jonathan are with each other. How undeniably happy they look. He used to think he and Nancy had something like that, once upon a time. But watching Nancy with Jonathan…
There’s a feeling stirring inside Steve’s chest — not jealousy, exactly, but something worse, so stifling it almost feels difficult to breathe.
And then suddenly Nancy looks over her shoulder and says, “What did you think, Steve?” And Steve feels just like he did in 1983 every time Nancy asked him a question. Like this one person — the most incredible person he knew — really and truly cared about what he had to say.
For a moment, Steve’s so startled that all he can say is, “Huh?”
“Of the movie,” Nancy clarifies.
Steve clears his throat. “Oh. No, yeah. I liked it, too.”
“You like every movie,” Jonathan accuses, but he still has that hint of amusement in his tone.
“I’m easily entertained, is that a crime?” Steve shoots back, and Jonathan shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “For the record, though? The ending me and Rob got was way better.”
Jonathan raises his eyebrows. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Scarlet was behind the whole thing, and she killed all the victims except the cook and Boddy, who Yvette killed, b ut Yvette only killed him because Scarlet told her to. Oh, and also Wadsworth is the undercover FBI agent, not Green.”
Nancy contemplates this for a moment, then says, “I don’t know. I kinda liked our ending.”
Steve looks over at her, raising his eyebrows.
“Everyone had a secret,” Nancy explains. “None of them were innocent, except for Green, I guess. It felt…I don’t know. Unexpected, but also realistic.”
“Cynic,” Steve scoffs.
“I am not,” Nancy says, elbowing him.
“You kidding? You so are. Jonathan’s starting to rub off on you.”
Nancy glares at him, but Jonathan just laughs.
“Anyway,” Steve says. “The different endings thing. What’s all that about, exactly?”
So Jonathan launches into a rambling summary of the article he’d read, and how the director filmed three different endings and gave the different endings to different theaters, and how some critics thought it was too gimmicky but others thought it was really innovative. And as Steve listens to Jonathan ramble, he thinks secretly that it’s nice when Jonathan gets like this. Jonathan barely says a word to most people; hell, he used to barely say a word to Steve. When he gets passionate enough to ramble like this, it almost makes Steve feel like he’s being let in on a secret.
So Steve listens, falling into step next to him, with Nancy at Jonathan’s other side, all three brushing shoulders and elbows as they walk.
“This was fun,” Steve says once they reach the parking lot. He shoves his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “Thanks for inviting me, and everything.”
“Of course. I – ” Nancy pauses, glancing at Jonathan. “We had a good time.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Steve says, and when he realizes his tone sounds a little too genuine, a little too vulnerable, he quickly clears his throat, and then looks away toward his car. “Well, I should probably – ”
“We could go back to my house and hang out,” Jonathan says suddenly.
Steve looks back at him. “What?”
Jonathan shoves his hands in his pockets, making his shoulders hunch. “I mean, no one’s home. Nancy and I were gonna go over there anyway, so…I mean, if you want…”
He trails off, sounding weirdly uncomfortable. Then again, that’s Jonathan’s default tone.
“Thanks, but, uh. I probably shouldn’t take up any more of you guys’ night,” Steve says. “I mean, not when…”
But Steve feels unsure how to finish. Not when I’ve overstayed my welcome already? Not when Nancy is my ex and you’re her new boyfriend? Not when it’s literally Valentine’s Day?
But Nancy frowns at him. “You aren’t taking up our night, Steve.”
Her voice is quiet, but firm. Like it genuinely bothers her that Steve would think that.
“I didn’t mean – ” Steve starts, then abruptly he stops. He feels wrong-footed, suddenly; like he’s going about this all wrong, or there’s something he’s not getting. He glances at Jonathan, hoping for some insight, but Jonathan’s busy studying his feet, and Nancy is staring at Steve intently, her expression expectant and maybe hopeful, and finally, Steve blurts, “Uh, okay.”
Jonathan looks up.
Nancy lifts her eyebrows. “Okay?”
“Yeah.” Steve clears his throat. “I can come over. I mean, for a little bit, anyway.”
Jonathan blinks, then straightens a little. “Okay.”
And that’s that.
Steve takes his car to Jonathan’s, even though he and Nancy offer to drive him. The two of them arrive just a bit before Steve does, and it’s Nancy who lets him in the door while Jonathan scurries to his room, mumbling about needing to grab something. When he returns a second later, there’s something tucked underneath his arm.
“I got, um – ” Jonathan starts, and then without finishing his sentence, he unceremoniously pulls a bouquet of purple and yellow flowers from underneath his armpit.
Steve blinks.
“Oh, they’re beautiful, Jonathan,” Nancy says, heartfelt.
Jonathan’s face is very, very red. “Thanks.”
“I’ll get a vase,” Nancy says, moving to the kitchen to retrieve one. It’s only after she’s gone that Jonathan risks a pointed glance at Steve, his expression one Steve doesn’t know how to interpret.
And then, suddenly, Steve understands. The flowers are for Nancy, of course. But Jonathan must’ve forgotten to give them to her until now, and was left with no choice but to hand them over in front of Steve, Nancy’s ex, and now he’s looking at Steve all awkward and apologetic to make up for it.
Steve feels his chest twist, and quickly looks away from them.
“So,” Nancy says after she puts the flowers in a vase on the kitchen table. “Should we go sit and watch something?”
The three of them move into the living room. Jonathan offers to let Steve pick the movie, so Steve looks through the Byers’ collection of VHS tapes while Nancy and Jonathan settle down on the couch. After quickly vetoing all the rom-coms, Steve finally decides on what seems like the safest option in the collection, which just so happens to be E.T. Nancy raises her eyebrows when he pops it in, and Jonathan makes a bit of a face, but neither of them says anything when Steve returns to the couch, where he blessedly takes the spot in the corner, leaving Nancy to the middle.
“So, the rest of your family’s out for the night?” Steve begins conversationally as the movie starts.
“Yeah,” Jonathan says. “Will's over at Dustin’s, and my mom is out with Hopper.”
He makes another face when he says the last part — a mild one, but still, Steve frowns. “What, you don’t like Hop?”
Jonathan sighs. “No, no, I like him. It’s just…complicated.”
Steve’s frown deepens, but Nancy just nods, like she’s heard this all before. Probably, Steve thinks, because she has. But Jonathan pointedly doesn’t elaborate in front of Steve, and that’s…fine. Seriously, it’s fine. Just another reminder that Steve is always going to be the third wheel in this scenario, that he’ll never properly fit, but he knew that already, didn’t he? Besides, Steve can read between the lines. Jonathan likes Hopper, but it’s complicated. Daddy issues, or whatever. Why should Jonathan get into that with Steve, of all people? He’s the guy that threw that kind of shit in Jonathan’s face in an alleyway back in 1983, after all.
Steve quickly switches topics to something safer. “So, how’s school?”
“It’s good,” Nancy says. “Almost over, thank God.”
“Right,” Steve says after a beat. “So, uh, you guys thinking about to IU, or…?”
Nancy clears her throat. “Actually, I’m thinking about Emerson.”
“Oh,” Steve says.
Nancy toys with a loose string at the hem of her dress. “I know it’s far, but I toured with my mom in the fall and I loved it, so. Of course, I don’t know if I’ll get in – ”
“Come on, you’ll get in,” Jonathan says.
Nancy nudges him, but she’s smiling a little.
Steve coughs. “So, are you going there, too, Jonathan?”
Nancy shakes her head. “No, he’s going to NYU.”
Jonathan shifts in his seat. “Maybe.”
“Definitely,” Nancy corrects. “Because you already got in.”
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Shit, you already got in? That’s awesome, man.”
“I might not even go,” Jonathan says, but his face is flushed, and he looks a little pleased.
But then Steve starts doing the mental math. “How far away is that, though?”
“Four hours from each other,” Nancy admits. “And both schools are about about twelve from home.”
Steve feels a sudden, sinking feeling in his chest. “Oh.”
“But, hey, Robin’s applying to schools, too, right?” Nancy says. “You guys probably won’t even be in Hawkins next year.”
This is true, actually. Robin is just as eager to get out of Hawkins as Nancy is, so she’s been applying to schools left and right. She tells him about each school she applies to, too, all under the assumption Steve will move to whatever city she chooses with her. Steve always pretends not to feel mildly emotional about it.
“Yeah. Maybe,” Steve says. “No acceptances yet, though.”
“Where does she wanna go?” Jonathan asks.
“She applied everywhere. But Yale is her top school, I think.”
It’s also the most competitive out of all the schools she applied to. But Robin knows, like, three languages. Honestly, Steve isn’t all that worried about it.
There’s a short pause, and then Jonathan says, “New Haven isn’t that far from New York. Two hours, give or take.”
Nancy hums. “It’s about two hours from Emerson, too.”
Steve looks between them. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Nancy says, voice quiet. “We could meet in the middle, maybe.”
Steve swallows. There’s a warm, fluttering feeling in his stomach. He looks away.
“Yeah,” he says finally. “Maybe.”
They fall into silence after that, only breaking it to make idle chit-chat about the movie, Nancy sitting pressed against Jonathan’s side, Jonathan’s arm resting along the back of the couch behind her shoulder. But even though Nancy’s in the middle, she’s sitting off-center, closer to Steve’s side than she is to the actual middle, which means she’s sitting awfully close to Steve, too. He feels hyper-aware of every inch of space between them, the mere centimeters between their hands lying next to each other on the couch, how easy it would be for Steve to close that distance and take her hand in his —
Steve is just beginning to think he should scoot over and put some space between them when he feels something press against his shoulder, and when he looks down, Nancy’s leaning against him, her eyes closed, fast asleep.
Steve blinks, hard.
Okay, he should definitely move over now. This is beyond inappropriate, especially with Nancy’s actual boyfriend at the other end of the couch. But Jonathan doesn’t seem to have noticed, and when Steve glances down, he can’t help but note how relaxed Nancy’s face looks in her sleep, the wrinkle in her almost-always-pinched brow smoothed away. As though just sitting between Steve and Jonathan and resting her head on Steve’s shoulder while a movie played softly in the background was enough to relieve her of any tension. And Nancy feels so warm against his side, and Jonathan’s arm is still stretched along the back of the couch, long enough that Steve can feel Jonathan’s fingers barely grazing against the back of his neck, and —
God, it feels so right, sitting here with the two of them, pressed up against each other like this. And there’s only about half an hour left in the movie anyway, and if Nancy’s comfortable, and if Jonathan hasn’t noticed…
Finally, Steve settles back against the couch, then sits perfectly still for the remainder of the movie, and the three of them stay like that until the credits roll. This is also, apparently, when Nancy’s internal clock goes off; she lifts her head, lashes fluttering, before she suddenly goes still.
“Shit,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, Steve – ”
“It’s okay,” Steve says quickly, even as he pretends not to already miss the warmth of Nancy’s head on his shoulder.
“Shit,” she says again. “I really didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“That’s what you always say,” Jonathan says. He sounds completely unbothered; like he’s confirming that he knew Nancy was asleep on her ex’s shoulder this whole time, and he doesn’t even care.
“I do not,” Nancy says.
“Sure,” Jonathan says dryly, and when he looks over Nancy’s head at Steve, his smile looks amused and slightly warm, like he’s sharing an inside joke meant just for Steve. Steve feels his stomach flip.
“It’s really not a big deal,” Steve manages to say to Nancy. “It – I was comfortable.”
It’s only after Steve says it that he realizes how weird of a thing it is to say. But when Nancy glances over at him, she doesn’t look like she thinks it’s weird. Instead, there’s a soft, intent sort of look in her expression as she gazes up at him through her lashes. She blinks slowly, like she’s still sleepy, and she’s so close that Steve can feel her breath against his face, can see every single shade of blue in her eyes.
“What?” Steve rasps out finally.
Nancy swallows. “Steve…”
And then, just briefly, her gaze flickers to his mouth.
Steve is so startled he leans back on instinct, backing away to the end of the couch.
Abruptly, Nancy goes still.
“I – what?” Steve says finally, his gaze flicking rapidly between Nancy and Jonathan. “What are you – what?”
Jonathan says nothing. He just stares at Steve, looking a bit like a deer caught in headlights.
Nancy takes a deep breath. “Steve,” she begins again.
But before she can get any further, Steve cuts her off and finally demands an answer to the question that’s been on his mind all week: “What am I doing here?”
There’s a beat of silence.
“What do you mean?” Nancy says in a quiet voice.
“I mean,” Steve says. “Why did you ask me to go to the movies with you and come over to your house on Valentine’s Day when you two are – when you’re – ”
But Steve can’t get the rest of his sentence out, suddenly — can’t bring himself to put into words how Nancy and Jonathan are a part of something that Steve is not, how everything about this is all wrong even if Steve wishes it wasn’t.
“Just…why?” Steve demands at last. “I mean, shit. Did you guys not have plans, or something?”
Nancy chews her lip. “Steve – ”
“Maybe these were our plans.”
Steve looks away from Nancy and toward Jonathan, who’s spoken so quietly that Steve isn’t even sure he heard him right.
“What?” Steve says.
Jonathan’s shoulders hunch, and he mumbles, “I said, maybe these were our only plans.”
Steve turns back to Nancy, who’s now staring at the TV as if the most interesting thing in the room is the end credits of E.T. And then Steve thinks, suddenly, back to the Monday that Nancy and Jonathan asked him to go to the movies and how bizarrely nervous they’d sounded. He thinks about Nancy and Jonathan showing up to the theater dressed in nice clothes, insisting that they buy the popcorn and that Steve sit between them. And then he thinks about the purple and yellow flowers sitting on the kitchen table and the shy look on Jonathan’s face when he presented them, how Steve had immediately assumed they were for Nancy and Nancy alone, because purple is her favorite color and yellow compliments purple, and even though that’s true, what’s also true is that yellow is Steve’s favorite color, too, and —
“Wait,” Steve says slowly. “Is this…is this a date?”
Jonathan’s face is very red, and Nancy is chewing her bottom lip again, and neither of them will look at him.
“It’s not… not a date,” Nancy finally says.
Steve’s heart is pounding so hard it feels like it might beat out of his chest. “With…with me?”
Nancy sighs. “Yes, Steve. With you.”
Steve stares at her. “But you guys are — ”
Together? Dating? In love? My ex and my —
Unconsciously, Steve’s gaze moves over to Jonathan, who looks increasingly like he wants to sink into the floor and disappear.
“Both of you?” Steve asks in a very quiet voice.
Jonathan’s shoulders hunch, and he looks very small when he mutters, “I mean…yeah.”
Steve feels astoundingly bewildered. “But…why?”
“Because we like you, Steve!” Nancy bursts. “Alright? It isn’t rocket science.”
“But,” Steve starts again, except Nancy’s already standing, marching toward the TV.
“Look,” she begins frustratedly as she yanks E.T. out of the VHS player. “I thought we were being subtle with the movie nights and the dinners – ”
“The what?”
“Nancy, you’re going to mess up the ribbon,” Jonathan protests softly.
“But clearly we were being too subtle,” Nancy continues, carrying on with her fight with the VHS player as though she hadn’t heard either of them. “So – we’re sorry. Alright? It doesn’t have to be a date. It doesn’t have to be anything – ”
“I never said I didn’t want it to be a date,” Steve blurts out.
Jonathan freezes. Nancy stops trying to torture Jonathan’s VHS copy of E.T.
“What does that mean?” Nancy says.
Steve jogs his leg up and down, feeling suddenly nervous. “I don’t know.”
“Steve,” Jonathan starts.
Steve lets out a frustrated noise. “Look, I’m – processing, alright? I thought the invites to dinner were just you guys being nice, or that you felt bad for me, or something. How was I supposed to know you were trying to woo me?”
Jonathan flushes. “I – we weren’t wooing you.”
“Not very well, anyway,” Nancy mutters.
Jonathan glares at her.
Steve smoothes his slightly sweaty hands across his jeans, just for something to do, and then says to Jonathan, “Did you really get me flowers?”
Jonathan looks away. “They’re for Nancy, too,” he mutters.
Steve opens his mouth, and then, when he realizes he doesn’t have a clue what to say, snaps it shut. His face feels very warm, and he feels almost like this entire night has been a dream, or like it’s something that’s happening to someone else.
Flowers. Jonathan got Steve and Nancy honest-to-God, actual flowers. Steve doesn’t think anyone’s ever gotten him flowers before. Not even once. But now, Jonathan has. Jonathan Byers got him flowers.
Suddenly, Nancy sets the VHS tape to the side. “So, just to be clear. When we asked if you wanted to see a movie with us on Valentine’s Day, you said yes, and it never once crossed your mind that it might be a date?”
Steve’s face grows even warmer. “Well, it’s not like you directly said it was a date. I wasn’t – I didn’t even know that was in the realm of possibility.”
“Okay,” Nancy says slowly. “What if you had known, though?”
“What?”
“If you had known it was a date, would you still have said yes?”
Steve glances away, his stomach somersaulting. Because the truth is that when he said he’d never thought a date was in the realm of possibility, he wasn’t being honest. Or at least, he wasn’t being completely honest. It was true that he hadn’t known a date with Nancy and Jonathan was possible, sure. But whether he’d thought about it, or wished it could be…
He thinks about the way Nancy’s face lights up when she spots him as she’s walking into Family Video, about the surprised smile Jonathan gets whenever Steve asks about the music he’s been listening to lately. He thinks about sneaking away from the Wheelers’ basement during movie night to drink beer and play board games in Nancy’s room, about sitting across from Nancy and Jonathan at dinner, Nancy’s feet bumping into his under the table and Jonathan’s knee pressed against his thigh. He thinks about the stifling, aching, yearning feeling in his chest he was constantly pretending to ignore whenever he watched Nancy and Jonathan together, and —
God. Of course he wished it could be.
At last, Steve takes a deep breath.
“I think,” he begins. “That if I knew you two were asking me on a date for Valentine’s Day, I would’ve brought, like, a million flowers.”
Nancy blinks. “What?”
“Yeah,” Steve says. He swallows. “I mean. Buckets full of them, probably.”
Jonathan blinks, too. And then he smiles. A real smile, not the half-smiles he always tries to hide before Steve notices them.
Slowly, Nancy's eyebrows raise. “Is that so?” she says. She's smiling, too, amused but unmistakably genuine.
“Yeah. It is, actually,” Steve says. “I would’ve put Byers’ little bouquet to shame.”
Jonathan laughs, his head tilting back and his hair falling into his face. “God, you are such an asshole.”
“And also,” Steve continues, feeling strangely light and weightless and breathlessly exhilarated, “We would've gone out for dinner. A nice, proper dinner. Maybe even a candlelit dinner. And if we had seen a movie after, it would’ve been a rom-com or something, not some movie where the director couldn’t even decide on an ending – ”
“Hey! I thought you liked the movie,” Nancy says.
“Yeah, when I thought the three of us were just hanging out, but if I’d known that was you two freaks’ idea of romance – ”
“Says the guy who wanted to watch E.T. – ”
“Nance, we’ve already established that I was unaware this was a date – ”
“Oh, you are so full of it,” Nancy says, laughing loudly and looking happier than Steve’s seen her in months, and before he can say anything to defend himself, she stands and crosses the room to lean down and kiss him, right on the mouth.
Steve has spent an embarrassing amount of time since their break-up wondering what it would be like to kiss Nancy Wheeler again. This kiss is brief, and Steve is so surprised by it that there isn’t enough time to compare it to what he’s imagined, but the look on Nancy’s face when she pulls away, smiling breathlessly soft at him…
Well. It’s infinitely better than anything Steve could’ve come up with.
Nancy tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Was that okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve says, feeling embarrassingly winded. He glances over at Jonathan, who’s watching both of them with his face looking flushed. “I – yeah.”
Nancy’s smile widens, just imperceptibly. “Good.”
She leans back just as Jonathan scoots closer to him on the couch, his eyes quickly darting to Steve’s mouth as he says, “Um, can I…”
“Uh-huh,” Steve says dumbly, and then Jonathan leans forward to kiss him, too.
It’s just as brief as the one with Nancy, but long enough for Steve to register that Jonathan’s mouth is softer than Steve expected, and that he tastes like popcorn and Nancy’s cherry-flavored Chapstick, as though he and Nancy were kissing before the movie and the taste of her lingered after, and that thought makes Steve so light-headed he has to be the first to pull away.
Jonathan leans back. The corner of his mouth quirks into his usual half-smile. “Okay?”
Steve nods. “Yeah,” he says, voice slightly hoarse. “Really okay.”
Jonathan laughs a little, and Nancy does, too, settling onto the couch at Steve’s other side so that he’s in the middle. She takes his hand, then, the way Steve has been imagining all night, and Jonathan drops his arm along the back of the couch again, curling around Steve’s shoulder, and God, Steve did not think this was how tonight was going to go. It’s almost embarrassing how completely and breathtakingly happy he feels about it.
Robin is never gonna let him live it down when he tells her.
“So,” Nancy says after a moment. “You’re thinking candlelit dinner next time, yeah?”
Steve laughs, shaking his head. “Sure. Why not? That okay with both of you?”
Jonathan snorts, and Nancy intertwines her fingers with Steve’s.
“Yeah,” she says, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I think that’s okay.”