Work Text:
It’s been a day since Jonathan and Nancy released the report on the lab, and he came home to death and pain, with his own brother being possessed by another dimensional creature. He’s mainly picked up the rest of the story from those around him, getting the details filled in. To put it lightly, Jonathan is having a lot of thoughts and feelings about the whole thing.
Jonathan hasn’t had much time to mull things over the past 12 hours, much more focused on his brother and making his house livable. He removed a lot of the paper drawings and even drove a nearly passed-out Billy Hargrove home (he’s still a little confused about why he was passed out on his floor). He had promptly fallen asleep for 10 hours, and now he can think things over.
Jonathan thinks back on his recent adventure, going with the girl he once thought he’d love forever. Nancy is so good and amazing but always out of reach, just beyond him. And for the first time, she wasn’t; she came to him, got down on his level, and he went for her. He moved forward, kissing her like he had always imagined himself doing.
But it was… different than he had expected.
There was no magical sensation or earth-shattering revelation. He had kissed her, feeling not that much different than before, and went back in. Maybe he was missing something, or he just needed to do it again, and the next thing he knew, he was being pulled inside her room, the door slamming behind them.
The sex was good. He didn’t have anything to compare it to, but Jonathan felt nice and satisfied by the end. It wasn’t mind-blowing or anything, not being much different than how he feels jacking off. But he’d always heard that sex was supposed to be so much better that it made masturbating seem like nothing in comparison. But that might be more because of him than anything.
Jonathan was nervous, extremely so, and something just wasn’t sitting right in his gut. He was horny, sure, but as a hormonal teenager, he could get horny for a rock if he tried. So they didn’t go all the way, just used their hands on each other, so maybe he just didn’t feel the full force of sex and what it should be.
But even so, Jonathan feels a little… icky, for lack of a better term. He feels like he did something he’s not supposed to do but didn’t get caught for it, the guilt lingering in his stomach. Right now, if he never had sex again, he would be okay with that, which definitely isn’t right. Maybe he just wasn’t ready. Nancy had been so accommodating, being gentle and letting him set the pace, but maybe even that was too much too soon.
But if Jonathan’s being honest with himself, the grimy, tacky feeling on his skin probably has a much more concrete reason for existence. One with stupidly big and poofy hair and an unfairly pretty face.
Even now, Jonathan isn’t sure exactly what happened between Steve and Nancy. He knew that they weren’t a perfect couple and had a couple rough patches but nothing that really concerned him. At the Halloween party, something big must’ve happened, as he vividly remembers a fuming, upset Steve pushing past him, not even seeming to notice him. He had mentioned Steve when Nancy pulled him onto her bed, and she waved him off, saying not to worry about it.
But even so, the entire time, his mind would occasionally wander back to Steve. Sometimes he would wonder what his reaction would be or how he would feel about them. And every time, it just makes Jonathan feel like dirt, like a terrible person betraying someone’s trust. And not his own or Nancy’s but Steve’s trust, which he knows he shouldn’t be worried about.
But Jonathan can’t help it. For all he knows, they may not have been broken up yet or had a chance to mend things, and his involvement with Nancy would be… immoral at best. And even if they were broke up for good, it still feels something like a fresh wound, something that probably should have been left alone. He can’t help but think it might have been better for everyone if that night had just never happened.
But that just leads to another part of Jonathan yelling at him, saying that he should be happy. Nancy chose him, and he loves her, right? So it should all work out. But as Jonathan is confronted with the possibility of truly being with Nancy, he finds himself hesitant and unsure. Does he really want her ? Or does he just like the idea of having someone ? He might know much about love, but if it’s the latter, it probably isn’t a good idea. Especially if his mind can’t quite leave the one, she used to be close with.
Before Jonathan can talk himself out of it, he jumps in his car after a brief talk with his mom and drives over to the Wheelers. And thankfully, Nancy is the one to answer the door.
“We need to talk,” Jonathan blurts as soon as he sees her, not quite able to meet her eyes.
“We do,” Nancy agrees in a low tone, and Jonathan knows she’s been thinking too. She leads him up to her room, the house quiet for once.
“Nancy, I…” Jonathan starts, trailing off before trying again, “I-I don’t think I can do it. Do… us.” He motions between them, praying that she understands.
“Oh?” Nancy says, voice neutral.
“I-I really like you, but I don’t know if I… if I love you. Or if I ever could.” It feels like confessing sin, but Nancy doesn’t get mad, just watching him with pensive eyes.
“I know,” Nancy finally says.
“What?”
“When we were together, you were… off,” Nancy says, “I didn’t pressure you into anything, did I?”
“No, no, I wanted it,” Jonathan is quick to say, and Nancy breathes a sigh of relief. “But there’s too much going on with me, and I just think it wouldn’t be a good idea to go forward.”
“I agree,” Nancy says, “I think… I think I need time to be on my own anyways. I wanted to throw myself at you because I trusted you, and you seemed open to it to help me. To distract me, I guess. But I realize how wrong that is.” She sighs, shaking her head.
“I get it,” Jonathan says, “But we’re still friends, right? I’ll always be there for you.”
“Of course,” Nancy says with a small grin, “And thank you for being there, for helping me. I… I can finally feel a little peace about Barb.” Jonathan just smiles at her, pulling her into a brief but comfortable hug.
“I should get back to Will,” Jonathan mutters, and Nancy nods.
“Yeah, of course. If you or your family needs anything, just call, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Oh, wait, Jonathan. I might have a favor to ask,” Nancy jumps in before he can leave.
“Yeah?”
“Could you check on Steve?” Jonathan blinks, not expecting that.
“Uh, why?” Jonathan says slowly. He doubts that Steve would be in a mood to see him.
“My mom isn’t letting any of us leave, and I just want to make sure he’s alright.”
“Is there a reason he wouldn’t be?” Jonathan asks slowly. Nancy sighs.
“I don’t know the exact story, but from what I heard from Mike, Billy Hargrove came looking for his sister, Max. She… doesn’t much like him, and a fight broke out. Steve did his best to fight him, but he wasn’t doing good. Max injected something into Billy, but Steve was still… not good.”
“Shit,” Jonathan mumbles. How did he not know this? And at least that makes Billy being unconscious in his house make more sense. “Why does he keep getting into fights he can’t win?”
“I wish I knew,” Nancy says with a smirk.
“I’ll check on him,” Jonathan promises. Honestly, after hearing that, he might have done it anyway.
“Thank you. We may not be together, but I still care about him.”
“So do I,” Jonathan says, and weirdly, he means it.
~~~
Why is life pain?
It’s a question that Steve’s been asking himself for a few hours. He’s had his fair share of concussions and injuries, but holy shit. Hargrove definitely wasn’t holding back, and if Steve were smart, he’d go to the ER, but he’s never been smart.
Steve is in his house, alone, and he hasn’t left his bed in almost half a day. He’s miserable, his head and body throbbing, but he’s pretty sure he’d be miserable anywhere. After the adrenaline had worn off, he practically collapsed. And it doesn’t hurt when he’s asleep.
But Steve had, unfortunately, woken up, and he’s been lying in bed since. He was tempted to call Nancy and have some help, but he quickly shut down that idea. Even if she’d be able to come, which isn’t certain, he doesn’t think he could stand seeing her right now.
Steve should have seen it coming, honestly. They haven’t been doing all that great for a while now. On the surface, everything was fine, but the distance between them had only been growing. The weight of her grief and guilt pushed her away from Steve, and Steve himself was desperate to move on, to just continue with life, as if that would mean nothing would happen again. He tried to help her, but he barely could when he ignored the fact that he needed it too. So, it should have been obvious, but it wasn’t, and Steve is in pain.
Steve wants to laugh. He’s truly pathetic, isn’t he? Clinging to a girl who clearly wasn’t his anymore just because he couldn’t imagine not having her. Even as he mourns the relationship, he finds that he’s more pained by the lack of closeness, the sheer intimacy that a relationship brings, than him losing Nancy. He still loves her, of course, and he’ll still be her friend, but it’s not the same.
But Steve will persevere. He’s good at that. He’ll bounce back, and he’ll be okay.
Eventually.
Steve is about to slip back into a nap when there’s a knock on his front door. In the silence of the house, it’s annoyingly loud, his head aching even more. He can’t really be bothered to get it right now, so he just nestles into the blankets and ignores it. But the knocking just becomes more insistent.
Steve groans, finally dragging himself out of bed, having to steady himself for a moment as his head spins. He can vaguely hear someone talking as he slowly moves through the house. But apparently, he’s not fast enough as the front door opens long before he gets there, rapid footsteps approaching.
“Steve!” Someone shouts, nearly barreling right into him. Steve cringes at the volume, blinking as he realizes he’s staring at Jonathan Fucking Byers.
“Keep it down, will ya, Byers?” Steve grumbles.
“Sorry,” Jonathan whispers, “I… you weren’t coming, and I didn’t know how bad you were hurt, so I panicked.” Steve chuckles dryly.
“If you were hoping you’d be rid of me yet, you’re sorely mistaken, Byers.” Jonathan just frowns at him.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“You haven’t heard? I’m pretty sure it’s all over town by now,” Steve mutters, stumbling towards his kitchen. He’s vaguely aware that he is anything but pretty right now, but he doesn’t much care.
“Nancy said you fought Billy to protect the kids.” The mention of her name makes Steve flinch, and he sits down at his dining table, sighing.
“Yeah, that guy’s a dick.” Jonathan laughs suddenly, and it’s a nice sound, soothing to Steve’s overwhelmed brain. “Wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for those fucking rings. ” Jonathan is quiet for a moment, rustling around the kitchen and soon placing a glass of water in front of Steve.
“Oh, thanks,” Steve says automatically, not quite remembering the last time he ate or drank anything. He sips on it slowly.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the company, but why are you here, Byers?” Steve asks. He probably could’ve said that a little nicer, but whatever. He’s already so mixed up about Nancy, and he has no idea what to think about Jonathan. He can’t, in good conscience, blame him for what happened. Nancy’s feelings are her own. But at the same time, he can’t help but think that Nancy might still be with him if Jonathan wasn’t in the picture.
“Nancy was worried about you and asked me to check on you,” Jonathan says softly, and all at once, his belly boils with rage.
He doesn’t exactly know the story, but he sure as hell knows some things. Like how Nancy disappeared right after their fight along with Jonathan, apparently going to see some private investigator, and they come back that much closer and more comfortable with each other. It doesn’t take a genius to draw some conclusions, and that just confirms how ill-fit Steve and Nancy were. Was she just waiting for her chance to jump Jonathan’s bones, to be rid of Steve?
“Well, as you can clearly see, I’m just fucking peachy, ” Steve hisses with a forced smile, “So you can get back to your girlfriend, Byers.” Jonathan frowns at him, eyes narrowing as he visibly weighs what he’s about to say.
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, I’m not leaving,” Jonathan says again, standing firmly, arms crossed. “You’re in no state to be left alone right now, and you shouldn’t have been alone last night.” Steve has to admire the commitment, even if he is very strongly considering a rematch of last year’s fight.
“Listen, Byers,” Steve says with a forced laugh, “I’m not about to die, and I’m not exactly in the fucking mood for this.” He glares at Jonathan, who just stares back.
After a long moment, Jonathan walks away, and Steve breathes a pained sigh of relief. But the front door never opens, and Jonathan returns just a few minutes later with a back of medical supplies that Steve doesn’t recognize. He must have brought it with him.
“For fuck’s sake,” Steve mumbles with a sigh.
“Shut up and let me help,” Jonathan says just as quietly, pulling up a chair. Despite himself, Steve allows it, telling himself that he’s just avoiding a hospital visit. No, it definitely doesn’t have anything to do with how nice it feels to have Jonathan’s attention on him, something he used to crave all those years ago.
Jonathan is gentle and steady as he works, his motions speaking of great experience. He cleans up the cuts, putting on bandages on those that bleed again and even stitching the largest ones closed. It hurt like a bitch, but Steve knows he’ll feel better for it. It’s quiet as they work, with Jonathan focusing on his task, allowing Steve to simply observe.
Steve remembers meeting Jonathan. Or… he remembers noticing him, at least. He doesn’t remember his exact age, but it was when Jonathan first entered middle school. Even at that time, Jonathan was just unmistakably himself, and Steve was intrigued by the shy boy no one hardly talked to. He heard so much about him, about his father and family, but nothing from him. If it was a different time, Steve might have approached him.
But it wasn’t a different time. Steve’s middle school career could most easily be defined by anger, emotions he didn’t understand but couldn’t push away. It was a time of being lost, of starting to understand that his life and home weren’t the paragons of comfort and happiness he thought it was but lacking the maturity to accept it, a maturity he’s only started to gain about a year ago. It was worse then, with the bubbling frustration in his veins and no positive outlet, instead being surrounded by a group of people only looking to egg him on.
So Steve lashed out. Jonathan wasn’t his first victim, but he would become the one he focused on. Everyone else folded almost immediately, but Jonathan remained defiant, never bowing down to Steve or his goons, never changing anything about himself he didn’t want to. Steve didn’t understand, and it made him furious.
But if that was all that Steve had issues with concerning Jonathan, their rivalry would’ve faded by high school. There was always something more, something that Steve couldn’t even bare to say, never mind, accept.
Jonathan is pretty.
Steve’s always thought so, honestly. Jonathan never really looked like most boys, with such sharp features on his face but with warm, comforting eyes and a lazy bowl-cut hairstyle with his fringe constantly falling into his eyes that should look terrible but somehow doesn’t. Steve wouldn’t consider him feminine, but pretty always seemed to fit more than handsome.
And even now, Jonathan is still pretty, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he works on Steve’s face. The other teen is more tired with age, with a great weariness in his eyes, but Steve still finds himself wanting to touch those sharp cheekbones or trace his jawline. And that stupid fringe is still there, and Jonathan is still pushing it out of his eyes every few minutes.
“I think that’s the best it’s gonna get,” Jonathan says, pulling away. Steve blinks out of his thoughts, realizing that he was probably staring. Well, if he asks, he can just blame the concussion.
“Thanks,” Steve mumbles, the rage from earlier not much more than a light simmer now. Jonathan just nods, standing and moving around the kitchen. It takes Steve a moment for his brain to catch up, eyes widening as he sees Jonathan cooking food for him. With a groan and a mix of messy emotions, Steve stands, going to the living room to lie on the couch.
For several hours, Steve is waiting for Jonathan to leave, to be done with whatever mission he has here, but he just doesn’t. He cooks another meal, catering to Steve’s needs, making him comfortable, only leaving his side to call his family and Nancy. They rarely talk; only a few words are exchanged. And Steve can’t stand it.
He just doesn’t understand why. Jonathan had said that Nancy wanted to check up on him, but that would take maybe 10 minutes. It doesn’t warrant this complete level of care. Maybe Nancy asked him to, or maybe Jonathan is motivated by something else, like a personal duty. He has always been the one to help take care of others like his brother, so this might be more about habit than anything else, an itch that needs to be scratched. Or the third option, one Steve hesitates to even think about, is that this is Jonathan’s way of giving him a peace offering.
Like, ‘Sorry, but you’re girlfriend is now mine, but I don’t want you to be mad at me.’ It’s probably not that, but it is possible, and that just makes everything worse, even more painful.
Because Jonathan has no use for Steve’s favor. He’s already got everything he could want, he has all the cards and leverage, and Steve has nothing. Hell, he had the better hand before Nancy left, having a family who cared about him, loved him, wanted him to do good, and had the ability to be a good person, a better one than Steve ever was. Right now, the only thing Steve has is the ability to write a check, and he knows Jonathan well enough to know he doesn’t care for that.
“Why are you here?” Steve finally blurts when he can’t contain himself anymore.
“Hmm?” Jonathan hums, looking away from the movie playing on the TV.
“Why are you here?” Steve repeats slower and firmer.
“I told you before, I don’t think you should be alone-”
“Stop!” Steve shouts, cutting him off, “You have another reason! Did Nancy set you up? Asking to babysit me all day?”
“No,” Jonathan says after a moment of hesitation.
“Then why? Do you think you have some duty to help me, to make sure I don’t keel over from me not being able to take care of myself?” Steve almost taunts, voice rising. Jonathan glares lightly.
“You’re not going to die with or without me.”
“Okay, so you’re just here to what? Get a favor, Byers? Cause I hate to break it to you, but I don’t got a lot to offer.”
“I’m not trying to get anything!”
“Alright, maybe it’s my favorite reason. Is this your way of smoothing things over, to try and make everything alright before you prance off into the sunset with the girl I loved?”
“Nancy and I are not together!” Jonathan snaps, abruptly standing and facing Steve. His face is flushed, the red even reaching his ears. “We are just friends, nothing more.” Steve blinks, the wind abruptly out of his sails.
“You’re not?” Steve asks numbly. Jonathan sighs.
“No, we’re not.”
“Why not?” Steve asks, “I thought you two were pining for each other. A-And what about what happened at the private investigator’s house?” Jonathan sighs again, his cheeks still an adorable red.
“We thought we wanted each other,” Jonathan finally says, “But she just wanted the comfort and needs time to figure herself out. I liked the idea of her, but I… I want something else.” Jonathan refuses to meet his eyes, sitting on the couch next to him.
“Oh. So… nothing happened?” Steve asks, and Jonathan blushes more if that were possible.
“Well, no,” Jonathan whispers, “But… it didn’t feel right for either of us. And we decided to stay friends.” There’s an odd flash of rage in Steve, but it’s not aimed toward Jonathan but at Nancy. He isn’t entirely sure what he’s mad at, the fact that she decided to be with another man so soon after their fight, or the fact she did it with Jonathan. Why is he so upset that she took Jonathan’s virginity?
“I’m sorry,” Steve says softly, and Jonathan turns, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.
“I’ve been a jerk to you all day, and you don’t deserve that,” Steve says with a sigh, “You’ve been nothing but kind to me, and…” Steve trails off.
“It’s alright,” Jonathan says with a shrug, “You’ve been through a lot of shit recently, and you’re injured. It’d be pretty hard to be in a good mood.” Steve’s mouth twitches into a smile before dropping again.
“Why are you here, though?” Steve asks softly, “I’m sure you have better things to do.” Jonathan scoffs softly.
“Is it really so crazy to think that I care about you, Harrington?” Jonathan asks, and Steve’s brain freezes, “I… I was worried when I heard about what happened and when you didn’t answer the door earlier… I panicked.”
Steve is quiet for a long moment. He knew that Jonathan didn’t hate him, and they could very tentatively be called friends, but even so, he was caught off guard. The sheer sincerity of the confession isn’t lost on him, and warmth radiates throughout his body.
“I, uh, I do too. Care about you,” Steve fumbles, eyes close to watering. Silence follows, but it’s comfortable, and they’re able to relax in it easily. For a while, no one speaks, and Steve is close to falling asleep when the words spill from his lips.
“It’s good we’re not together anymore.”
“What? I thought you two were good together,” Jonathan says softly, meaning it entirely.
“I think we were for a little bit,” Steve admits, “But it’s been falling apart for a while. I miss her, still love her, but it’s probably for the best.”
“I, uh, I’ve had my eyes set on someone else for a while now. Never did anything, but the feelings never went away, and I don’t know if they ever will.” Steve doesn’t know why he’s being so honest. He knows he probably shouldn’t, but he’s so tired in every sense of the word right now.
“Who is it?” Jonathan asks innocently, and that instinctual fear, the one drilled in by his friends and father, flares up in Steve’s gut. Logically, he knows Jonathan isn’t like that, and he’d probably let him down gently, but fear doesn’t care about logic.
“It’s…” The next word is right on the tip of his tongue. You. But it melts away as soon as he turns his head to look into Jonathan’s curious and calm gaze. “It’s… a boy.”
Steve’s heart stops, and for one crazed moment, he wonders if he’s about to pass out, but miraculously he doesn’t. The silence stretches on as Jonathan stares at him with wide eyes.
“Okay,” Jonathan finally says, voice somewhat strained but still soft, “That’s okay, Steve.”
Steve releases the breath he was holding, his anxiety going with it, leaving him to slump in his seat. Even if he’s rejected, someone knows and isn’t going to hurt him or cut off contact, and that is just euphoric. He feels safer than he has in a long time.
“Thank you, Jonathan.” The other teen visibly perks up, smiling.
“Of course,” Jonathan says easily before getting a sly grin, “Though this does put what you said to me in a new context.” Steve huffs, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, I was going through some shit and projecting pretty hard.” Jonathan chuckles.
“I get it. I really do.” Steve doesn’t doubt him, even from what little he knows about Lonnie Byers.
“Who is it?” Jonathan asks again, grinning.
“Uh…”
“You don’t have to tell me,” the other teen adds, and Steve is quiet for a minute. He’s tempted to take that offer, but if he doesn’t, he knows he’ll make up excuses to not tell him till the end of time. They don’t really run into each other naturally, so avoiding him and his feelings would be easy. Too easy.
“Please don’t hate me, but it’s you,” Steve rushes out, the words partially merging together.
“What?” Jonathan whispers, and Steve stares at the TV hard enough to almost make it explode.
“It’s you, Jonathan, fuck!” Steve huffs, “You’re just too fucking pretty and smart! I mean, I’m not expecting you to return them, so please don’t hate me.”
“Steve,” Jonathan says after a long, tense moment, “Can… can I kiss you?” Steve nearly gets whiplash from turning his head so fast. Jonathan is hunching in on himself, cheeks flushed, and looking at a very interesting spot on Steve’s shirt. “I-I just want to… test something.”
“Uh, sure,” Steve says, doing his best to swallow his hope. That wasn’t a reciprocation, but it wasn’t a denial either. If nothing else, he’ll help test whatever Jonathan wants.
They lean forward, meeting in the middle. The kiss is chaste and kind of uncomfortable from his injuries, but Steve doesn’t care. His stomach flips as he finally feels those thin, slightly chapped lips on his. It takes serious willpower not to press forward and deepen it or do it again, pulling away instead.
“I-I need to think for a minute,” Jonathan says quickly, face entirely red, “I’ll be back.” And with that, he disappears deeper into the house.
Steve can’t help the slither of disappointment in his gut and does his best to squash it. He tells himself that that’s a big thing to accept, that your guy friend has feelings for you, and you kissed him. He is more than aware that just because you see and know something to be true, it may not feel that way. Whether that be about monsters or crushes.
Meanwhile, Jonathan is trying his best to make his hands stop shaking as he hides in Steve’s far too big bathroom. His lips are still tingling as he runs his tongue over them.
To say Jonathan is surprised by Steve’s feelings may be the understatement of the century. To be fair, he had had a few passing thoughts about whether Steve was totally straight before, but he never expected Steve to come out to him and have feelings for him. Wouldn’t he be attracted to those other handsome, popular boys and not the town freak? And why is that his main concern right now?!
After a few minutes, Jonathan managed to calm down enough to try and think things through rationally. He’s known that he himself is probably not straight either, has for years at this point, and when he got the opportunity to kiss a boy for the first time ever, his curiosity had won out. He can’t deny that Steve’s hopeful gaze and adorable nervousness also helped him in that choice.
Kissing Steve was nothing like kissing Nancy. It felt different. Obviously, because Steve is much bigger, and he felt the barest hint of stubble, but more so from how his skin felt like he was being electrocuted. It was warm, and it sparked an urge to just take and take and take all he could. It’s like something inside him finally clicked into place, something he didn’t know was out of line.
But it doesn’t make sense. Why did it feel like so much more? It can’t just be because Steve is a boy, but at the same time, he’s never really thought of Steve in that way. However… he was obsessed with Nancy, the Nancy who was dating Steve, and thought about him during sex with her…
“Oh, God no,” Jonathan whispers to himself, putting his face in his hands and holding back the urge to scream.
Did he seriously just want to date Nancy as a way of dating Steve vicariously thru her? Yes, he’s pretty sure he did. Well, at least he doesn’t have to worry about rejection.
It’s about 30 minutes later when Jonathan finally exits the bathroom. Steve perks up and fails miserably at trying to hide his restlessness. Jonathan sighs and does the only thing he can think of to get Steve’s full, undivided attention. He hops onto his lap, kissing Steve hard before he even has time to react.
Steve gasps into Jonathan’s mouth before instinct and passion take over. He melts into the kiss, guiding the less experienced boy. He rests his hands on Jonathan’s hips, pulling him even closer while Jonathan wraps his arms around Steve’s neck. They move together as one, kiss deepening to something wet and dirty, and they’re both panting as they finally split.
“So… I take it you feel the same?” Steve says with a slight smirk.
“Oh, shut up,” Jonathan responds dryly. “I realized that I didn’t want Nancy. I wanted to be her.” The last part is purred into Steve’s ear, earning a breathy shudder, the air somehow growing hotter between
“Hmm,” Steve hums with a smirk, “I can show you how I treat my girls if that’s what you want.” His hands move down to rest on Jonathan’s ass as the smaller teen bites his lip, hornier than he’s ever felt in his life.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Jonathan whispers, eyes tracing along Steve’s cuts.
“You won’t,” Steve assures, “We’ll take it slow and keep things steady. But we don’t have to, Byers. Trust me, I’ve waited for years for this. I can wait a little longer.”
“Jonathan,” the smaller teen corrects, “I’m not being called my last name during sex.”
“Alright, Jonathan ,” Steve purrs, and Jonathan swallows hard.
“I want to,” Jonathan whispers, face flushed but too horny to be truly embarrassed, “I already feel so much better than last time.”
“You didn’t feel good?” Steve asks, frowning slightly.
“I-I did,” Jonathan is quick to say, “But not like this. And I felt gross after like I was betraying you.” Steve leans forward, capturing Jonathan in another sweet kiss.
“You definitely aren’t,” Steve chuckles, “And we don’t have to go the full way. Not to brag, but I’ve been told my mouth is to die for.” The images that invoke are something else, but Jonathan shakes his head.
“I want to go the full way. I want to see what it’s like.”
“Are you sure? It might hurt.”
“I am,” Jonathan smirks, leaning in to nip and kiss Steve’s jaw, whispering against his skin. “I’ll be a good boy, I promise.” Steve groans, gripping Jonathan tighter.
“God, you trying to kill me, Jonny-boy?” Steve asks, earning a mischievous giggle. “Get off me before I fuck you on this couch.” Jonathan does, despite that not exactly being a deterrent. Steve leads him by the hand up to the bedroom, turning to kiss him once they’re there.
Steve starts to pull at his shirt, the sleep shirt being tossed in a random direction. He has a few bruises on his chest and arms, but it doesn’t take away from the sculpted build, reminding Jonathan of the statues of Greek heroes. The smaller boy doesn’t even realize he’s staring til Steve gently tilts his chin up to steal another kiss, lightly pulling on Jonathan’s jacket, which soon ends up on the floor with his undershirt.
Jonathan is not as built as Steve, lacking the defined muscles, but he’s lean and skinny with broad shoulders that emphasize his narrow chest and waist. To Steve, he has a body similar to that of a dancer, flexible and lithe, and Steve just wants to touch him everywhere.
The boys crash into each other again, bare chests rubbing together, hands moving along as much skin as possible. There’s a small brawl for who is going to lead, but after only a moment, Jonathan surrenders, allowing himself to be moved and touched at Steve’s whim. He likes the idea of being in charge, but for now, he’ll let himself be taken care of by someone with more experience.
Jonathan gasps and moans into Steve’s mouth as the large, soft hands run over his nipples and pecs. Steve smirks as he kisses along Jonathan’s neck, rubbing and playing with the cute little nubs, adding a few hickies as he goes. Jonathan is panting and trembling ever so slightly when Steve pulls away, taking his hands and leading him to the bed.
Both of their pants and underwear are gone in a flash, neither paying attention to where they end up. Steve sits on the bed confidently, splayed out, his throbbing cock on full display. Jonathan swallows thickly, staring and wanting to move forward but still shy, hiding his most sensitive parts behind his hands.
“No, no, let me see you,” Steve scolds softly, grabbing Jonathan’s hands and lifting them gently. The shorter teen can’t quite meet Steve’s eyes as he’s on full display, cock bright pink from the strain of his arousal. “Come here,” Steve says, tugging on his wrists, and Jonathan about falls into him, initiating another makeout session, his nervousness melting away during it. And as it ends, Steve grabs Jonathan and spins him around to press the smaller boy against the headboard of his bed.
“Ready, babe?” Steve asks huskily, and Jonathan nods.
“Yes.”
Steve grins wolfishly as he backs away, leaving Jonathan there to rummage around in his bedside drawer. After just a second, he pulls out a small bottle and a tinfoil-wrapped condom, presenting them to his partner.
“Do you want to use this? It’s up to you,” Steve asks, wiggling the condom.
“I’ve, uh, never…. We only used our hands. I’m clean,” Jonathan stammers, cursing himself for his stuttering, but his point gets across.
“I’ve always used them before, and I know I’m clean,” Steve offers, dropping the condom back in the drawer. “And it’s not like I can get you pregnant.” Steve pauses, “Unfortunately.” Jonathan gapes at him, lightly smacking his arm, blushing cherry red.
“Jesus, Steve,” Jonathan grumbles, but his blush never goes away. Steve smiles knowingly, getting back on the bed.
“Be a good boy and open your legs for me,” Steve commands gently, and Jonathan does without hesitation, breath hitching.
Steve squeezes some lube out of the bottle, setting it aside with his clean hand as he spreads it over his fingers. He kisses along Jonathan’s inner thigh, calming his nervous twitching as he reaches down, probing around til he finds what he’s looking for. He rubs a lubed fingertip against the furled muscle, revealing in Jonathan’s gasp, resting his head on surprisingly soft thighs.
Jonathan gasps again as Steve slides a finger inside. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but it is odd. It’s almost unnatural, but it’s not bad, even as Steve starts to move, watching Jonathan with big attentive eyes. He can tell that Steve is taking great care of him, and it warms his heart.
“Can I add another?” Steve asks, leaning over and placing a sweet kiss on his thigh.
“Yes,” Jonathan breathes, and a moment later, another finger is breaching him.
This time it does hurt. Not much, especially with how careful Steve is being, but it’s noticeable, and Jonathan winces. Steve frowns at him, but Jonathan quickly waves it off, telling him to keep going. And as Steve starts to move, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out, the first sparks of pleasure shoot up Jonathan’s spine.
“Ah!” Jonathan gasps, “Keep… keep doing that.” Steve smirks, aiming his fingers at that same spot, moving faster now. Any pain is replaced with deep pleasure, a different kind than he’s ever experienced but no less potent.
Steve adds a third finger not long later. The stretch is a little much, but it’s too much in a good way, and Jonathan finds himself enjoying it alongside the abuse of that spot inside him. If Steve keeps it up, this will be over a lot faster than either would like. But before Jonathan even has to say anything, he’s abruptly empty, and Steve is pushing himself into Jonathan’s space, seemingly just as eager.
Steve kisses Jonathan hard, his cock brushing against Jonathan’s. He pecks Jonathan once more on the lips before he pulls away, hooking Jonathan’s legs around his waist and reaching for his cock. He watches Jonathan’s face as he guides himself inside, moving slowly and carefully.
Steve is big, and Jonathan understands why so many girls want to sleep with him. The stretch is so much more, and it makes him ache, but he just craves it all that much more, feeling so full for the first time. He whimpers and pants as Steve pushes in more and more, but even when it’s too much, he keeps going with more inches left of his cock.
Jonathan is shaking as Steve finally bottoms out. Steve waits, being as still as he can, ignoring the temptation of such tight, soft heat around him. He peppers Jonathan’s face with chaste kisses, whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful and good he is. Jonathan clings to him, grasping at his back.
Steve starts to move slowly, agonizingly so. Jonathan whimpers, not letting go of Steve at all, but his small noises of pain soon turn into gasps of pleasure. And for a few more thrusts, Steve keeps that glacial pace before increasing his speed, causing Jonathan to moan loudly, ankles hooking around Steve’s back, trying to draw him in impossibly closer. And in turn, Steve wraps his arms around Jonathan’s waist, keeping them pressed together, as much skin touching as possible.
Steve moves with slow and gentle thrusts. Normally, he’d want to go as fast and hard as his partner would let him, but that just isn’t needed here. He’s getting more than enough stimulation that he’s having trouble holding on, staving off his orgasm as much as possible. Maybe he’s imagining it, but it’s like they were made to fit together like this, so that’s why Jonathan feels better than anyone else he’s been with.
Jonathan is already feeling wrecked, so he appreciates Steve keeping this a tender, gentle experience. Maybe one day they could be rough, or he could be rough on Steve, but for now, they have all they need, and simply being this close with this man is making Jonathan fall apart. If he could, he would just envelop himself in Steve’s presence.
“S-Steve,” Jonathan moans. His eyes burn with tears, all of it being so much. So much pleasure and feeling coursing through his veins that it’s overwhelming him and threatening to come out of his eyes.
“Woah, Jonathan,” Steve whispers, noticing how broken the other boy is. He starts to slow with every intention of stopping, but Jonathan keeps him in place.
“Keep… keep going, please,” Jonathan begs. Steve obliges, moving as he did before but keeping an eye on Jonathan as moans fall from the smaller boy’s lips.
“God, Jonathan… you feel perfect,” Steve whispers, nipping at the boy’s neck and jaw. “You’re so good. So good for me.” Jonathan whimpers, momentarily tightening around Steve.
“Steve, I-I’m gonna-” Jonathan chokes, a coil of pleasure tightening in his groin, so close to snapping.
“Be a good boy and come, Jonathan,” Steve purrs.
As if Steve had pressed a button in his brain, Jonathan cries out as his orgasm explodes out of him, entirely untouched. He paints both of their stomachs, body clamping around Steve, quickly milking the other boy of his own climax. It’s easily the best orgasm either boy has ever had, nearly whiting out their vision with bliss.
It takes a long few moments for the boys to recover enough to even consider moving, bodies still pressed together. Eventually, Steve shuffles back enough to pull out, cum dribbling out onto Jonathan’s thighs and the sheets, but neither really notices as Steve grabs his lover, moving so they’re lying on the bed together, still basically wrapped around each other.
“Steve,” Jonathan whispers, poking at the other boy, basically laying on top of him, pinning him under his weight. He gets a sleepy hum in response.
“Steve, we need to get up,” Jonathan tries again, a smile in his voice. Steve hums again, this time in displeasure, holding Jonathan even tighter like how a child would to a stuffed animal they don’t want to give up.
“Steve…”
“No,” Steve whines, “Comfy.” Jonathan sighs.
“Fine,” Jonathan mumbles, reaching for the blanket they had kicked aside earlier, throwing it over the both of them. When he gets them situated, Steve is already breathing deeply against him, but Jonathan couldn’t be mad if he tried, sleepiness pulling at his own eyelids. He presses a kiss onto Steve’s soft hair before closing his eyes and drifting off.