Have Happened

By Cortexikid

Chapter Seven: The Acceptance

Warning: Under-age drinking ahead.

Well, here it is. The actual last chapter, after all my talk about ending this several chapters and many thousand words ago haha. One last big thanks to pantlesshero for prompting me to write this in the first place and thank you so much to everyone else for also sticking by me this last year. I hope you all enjoy it and it was worth the wait. Roll on season 2! :D

"You like me."

The words were flat, not a question, not a statement, but something else in between. Steve was at a loss, looking between the two people he cared most for as they alternated between staring at him and stealing glances at each other.

"Your shirt's inside out."

Silence rang in the air as Steve shut his jaw with a snap, cursing his brain-to-mouth filter for what felt like the millionth time in the last two days. Seemed as if he was on full panic-mode, blurting out the first thing that came to mind so that they would not have to possibly talk about the biggest mistake he had ever made in the history of his life.

"Yeah well," Jonathan shrugged, wholly unaware of Steve's inner-freak-out, looking down at said shirt, "I kinda left in a hurry. Just grabbed whatever on the way out."

Steve nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets, and aiming for nonchalant, "it's The Clash, right? I recognise the—"

"Seriously?" Nancy scoffed, stepping fully inside the room and throwing up her hands, "you guys kiss and all you can talk about is Jonathan's shirt?"

Both boys gaped at her as she put her hands on her hips and glared up at them.

"We are going to talk about this," she continued, firmly but quietly, "for the sake of our friendship, we have to." She turned to Steve, chin jutted out as if daring him to protest, "so, get on with it, Harrington."

He could feel the weight of two pairs of eyes on him, one waiting, the other…something else. He knew that Nancy was doing this out of love, trying to help him after the monumental fuck up that was him unceremoniously kissing on Jonathan out of nowhere, but still, he couldn't help but feel attacked.

"Hey, you kissed him first, Nance. You get on with it."

Nancy, clearly exasperated, rolled her eyes, "Jonathan already knows how I feel about him, Steve."

A beat of stillness followed her words.

"Do I?"

The couple whirled around to where Jonathan stood staring wide-eyed at them, his quiet question permeating about his lips as if holding back a whole host of other queries that wanted to burst from them.

Nancy's expression softened as she nervously wrung her hands, "uh, yeah, I…didn't think I was exactly subtle."

Steve supressed the urge to snort, "neither of you are."

Jonathan's eyes snapped to him, jaw tight, "that's rich coming from you."

Irritation spiked in his veins, "what's that supposed to mean, Byers?"

"Well, you did just kiss him, Steve," Nancy piped up oh-so-helpfully.

That plunged them back into an awkward silence that was cut short by the sound of the school bell ringing, reminding Steve that they had all technically played hooky and he should be in Spanish class right now. Ms Pérez was gonna rip him a new one.

The back of his head gave a painful twinge.

"Look," Nancy sighed, holding up an appeasing hand, "we're going in circles. Why don't we get outta here to talk about this somewhere more…private?"

Steve's heart lurched in his chest at the suggestion, but he had to admit that she had a point. They had gone beyond avoidance, and much to his dismay, this couldn't be put off any longer. Not if the way Jonathan had been staring at him for the last five solid minutes had anything to say about it.

"Sure," he responded, trying and failing to sound nonchalant, "I know just the place."

Turns out it was remarkably easy to sneak in and out of Hawkins High. Like, concerningly easy. Were it not so beneficial for him, Steve may have considered notifying faculty about getting their collective shit together. Sure, it wasn't on par with interdimensional monsters roaming the halls of Hawkins Middle School, but three teens skipping class to go figure out their weird relationship dynamic? It was a slippery slope.

"Really? This is where you wanna talk?"

Steve winced as Nancy's terse tone spat him from his reverie. Slowly, he turned on the spot, glancing around the isolated woods they found themselves standing in.

"Sorry Nance, I know this place doesn't have the best memories for you but—you gotta admit, we're not gonna be disturbed here. Most people are still too freaked out."

Including me, he refrained from adding.

With neither Nancy nor Jonathan responding, Steve took that as his cue to take off his jacket and spread it out on the ground, sitting down on it and gesturing for them to do the same. There was a half-second pause before both seemingly gave in and sat down. Directly opposite him. Their gazes staring pointedly in his direction.

Shit. He did not think this through.

Good thing he brought reinforcements.

"Is that whiskey?" Jonathan asked as Steve pulled a bottle out of his back pack and deftly taking a swig, trying not to gag, and holding it out.

"Keen observational skills as always, Byers," Steve deadpanned, sighing and rolling his eyes, "I don't know about you man, but I'm not sure I can have this conversation without some liquid courage."

Carob eyes continued to bore a hole into him as a slender hand reached out and took the bottle from his grasp. Both boys stared silently as Nancy raised the whiskey to her lips and took a more than generous gulp, wincing only slightly.

Ever full of surprises was Nancy Wheeler.

Steve watched as she faltered in passing the bottle to Jonathan, something weighted between them.

"I'll pass. Thanks."

Jonathan took it and handed it back to Steve, avoiding his eye.

If he had to guess, Steve would wager that Lonnie Byers was a whiskey man. A surge of guilt rolled in the pit of his stomach at that thought, so he hastily put the bottle back in his bag, to be returned barely touched to his father's liquor cabinet as soon as he got home.

Guess he was doing this sober.

"You kissed me."

Guess he was doing this now.

Jesus.

Steve glanced at Nancy, asking for help with his eyes. She stared doggedly back at him, remaining silent.

Alright then.

"I did."

Jonathan nodded, as if he had needed confirmation that he didn't miraculously imagine the whole thing. Slowly, he turned to Nancy, "and you kissed me."

She nodded back, "I did."

Byers stared down at his hands that lay in his lap, his voice no higher than a whisper, "why?"

Steve could hear the insecurity a mile away, see it from space, but he resolutely said nothing. Could not unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth to begin to explain just why he liked Jonathan Byers.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nancy's mouth drop open, but before any sound could escape, Jonathan ploughed ahead, "and don't say 'because we like you, asshole.' That—that doesn't clarify things. At all. Especially when it comes to you." He punctuated that last sentence with a hard look at Steve.

"A year ago you'd rather punch me than kiss me. So, what gives? Since when are you—" Jonathan's words died in his throat as he waved a hand in frustration, clearly unwilling to finish his sentence.

Steve still heard the unspoken word as clearly as Nancy's hitching of breath.

Queer?

The weight of the essays and articles and journals that Nancy withdrew from the library was ever-present in the forefront of his mind as he shrugged and muttered, "I dunno man, okay? This—this is all new to me," he paused, realising that he was rambling but unable to stop his runaway mouth, "I shouldn't have just laid one on ya like that, I'm sorry I—"

"Don't be."

Steve's gaze shot up to meet Jonathan's, his eyebrows no doubt close to his hairline.

"What do you mean 'don't—" Steve broke off as movement over Jonathan's shoulder caught his attention. He watched as a familiar figure approached them, footfalls almost silent against the spring leaves.

"Will?" Steve called out in confusion, a frown creasing his forehead as Jonathan and Nancy turned simultaneously.

The boy seemed not to have heard him however, his carob eyes distant as he halted, a rigidity to his body and a vacantness to his features that set Steve's teeth on edge. Jonathan stood up, his face stricken as he approached his brother tentatively, much like a zoo-keeper would a wounded animal, his voice barely above a whisper, "Will? You okay?"

Will blinked rapidly, slowly turning his head to acknowledge his brother, his voice lacking its usual cheerful hilt, "Jonathan…uh, hi." He paused, seemingly only noticing the other two teenagers that had also stood but hung back to give the brothers space, "Hey Steve, Nancy. What are you guys doing here?"

The duo exchanged a quick glance, Steve shrugging, plastering his patented charming smile on his face, "we're playin' hooky, kid. Couldn't stand the thought of Spanish class on this fine Spring day, so…promise not to tell on us?"

Predictably, judging by his face, Will wasn't buying what Steve was selling, but like the awesome kid he was, he said nothing. Jonathan took that opportunity to softly touch his shoulder, murmuring quietly, "are you alone? I thought you were staying with Dustin?"

As if summoned, the sound of heavy footfalls and rustling leaves being kicked around reached their ears, just as a strangled and high-pitched voice called out, "Will? WILL!"

Steve watched as a mop of curly hair tried to escape from a red, white and blue baseball cap as Dustin Henderson bounced towards them, slightly winded as he leaned over to rest his palms on his thighs, catching his breath.

"H-Hey guys, Nancy," he toothlessly grinned at them, "uh, me and Will were just…walking…" the kid to seem to run out of steam half-way through his weak explanation and gave up, throwing his friend a helpless glance.

Will kept his eyes on Jonathan however, a determination crossing his stance as he squared his shoulders, "I'm fine, Jonathan. Really. I just…come here sometimes. I know I shouldn't but…" he sighed, breaking eye contact, "don't tell mom."

Steve now realised how Will must have felt listening to his lame excuse after lame excuse. It was clear to him that the younger Byers didn't just 'come here' at all and something else was definitely going on, but it wasn't his place to say anything. That distance, that sense of wrongness that he had been seeing in Will over the last couple of months was the strongest he had ever seen, as they all stood in the clearing, but he resolved to keep his mouth firmly shut. Instead, he watched as Jonathan's shoulders sagged, as if he was almost expecting this.

"Okay, man. Let's just…get you home."

He turned to Steve and before he could even muster a syllable, Steve was packing up his stuff and leading the way, "come on, lil Byers, Dustin. I'll give you guys a ride."

He could feel the weight of Jonathan's gaze on the back of his head as they all made their way to his car. As they reached it, he threw Jonathan the keys inclining his head towards his back pack where the bottle of whiskey lay inside. Wordlessly, Jonathan caught them, nodding, crossing over to the driver's side. Steve, Will and Dustin piled into the backseat as Nancy took shotgun, immediately turning on the radio once Jonathan started the ignition. Almost against his will, Steve caught Jonathan's gaze in the rear-view mirror, their eyes locking in a heavy understanding.

Whatever this was…it wasn't over.

Steve Harrington liked to think that he was an enigmatic man. Someone with a surprising set of skills, knowledge and interests that people may not have thought of him. With ever a desire for intrigue, he kept much of these attributes about himself close to the chest, but if there was ever a time to whip one of them out, so to speak, it was now.

"What are you making?" Nancy asked as she tried to peer over his shoulder at the frying pan that was sizzling on the stove.

"Never you mind, Wheeler," Steve winked, liking the gentle smile on her face that hadn't left since he said he would treat her to a home-cooked meal.

Jonathan had dropped them off in Steve's car, he and the boys heading back to the Byers', with a promise to return as soon as Joyce got home from work. None of the teens wanted to say it, but it was obvious something was not quite right with Will and his older brother was clearly concerned about him. An unease had settled in Steve's stomach when he saw the vacant expression on the young boy's face and even now as he stood in his kitchen over an hour later, he kept seeing that same empty look over and over in his head.

"How did I not know you could cook?" Nancy asked, checking his hip and knocking him out of his reverie.

Steve threw her a small grin as he stirred the sauce, adding a pinch of salt.

"What can I say, Nance? I'm full of surprises," he paused, inclining his head and winking, "gotta keep ya on your toes somehow."

"And here I thought you did that by kissing Jonathan Byers."

He stilled, spoon half-way to his mouth, his shoulders aching with tension. He let the spoon fall with a clank back onto the stove, turning to his girlfriend and levelling her with what he hoped was an apologetic look.

"About that, Nance," he began, forcing himself to maintain eye-contact, "I'm sorry I went about it like that. I…really didn't mean to just…kiss him like that. I don't know what I was—"

Nancy held up a hand, silencing him.

"I kissed him first, Steve. And besides, you're a man of action. I know that. I'm just glad that you're beginning to figure things out."

Figure things out? He wouldn't go that far. Steve knew it was possible to fuck more than one person at the same time. Hell, his dad's extensive collection of Betamax tapes proved that. But actually being in a relationship? With dating and romance and feelings? He could feel his face contorting at the implications.

Throwing up his hands in exasperation, he focussed on chopping onions, staring down at them as if daring them to sting his eyes, "yeah but, what about us, Nancy? We're a couple and—and I know you said that maybe we could all be happy. Me, you and Jonathan but—"

"You read the articles, didn't you?"

Steve threw her an affronted look, only to give up, his indignation deflating like a balloon, "I may have skimmed them when you were in the bathroom."

He didn't have to look at her to know she was rolling her eyes.

"They are just suggestions, Steve. Guidelines, advice. Not rules or laws. We—"

"It's weird, Nancy!" Steve cut in, his voice louder than he intended as he gripped the countertop, his back arching as he hung his head, words tumbling from his lips as he finally let all the pent-up frustration he had been feeling for what seemed like forever flow from him in waves.

"I've spent the last few months trying to talk myself out of this. Out of feeling anything. Told myself I was nuts, or it was just some side-effect of all the messed-up shit we went through. But now, here's you, the girl I'm in love with, telling me that at the same time, it's okay to love another guy. It's fucking weird, okay? Weird and confusing and frustrating as hell and I just don't know what to do!"

A silence hung over them as he caught his breath, heaving heavy gulps of air as his hands shook, having turned a ghostly white from his tight grip on the counter top. Slowly, he inclined his head towards Nancy who was looking at him as if truly seeing him for the first time. Seemed as if his little outburst had rendered her speechless. But it wasn't the speechlessness that made a surge of ice crawl up Steve's spine – it was the expression on her face as her eyes left him and instead focussed on something over his shoulder.

"Love?"

You just can't catch a break, can you Harrington?

"I really am gonna have to get you a bell to wear around your neck, Byers."

He would not turn around, he couldn't.

He heard Jonathan step further into the room, dropping Steve's keys that he had used to let himself into the Harrington household, onto the side table. Nancy watched from over Steve's shoulder, minute changes occurring in her face as she glanced back at her boyfriend who felt as if every drop of blood had drained from his body.

"You told me to let myself in," Byers remarked, his voice still laced with a quiet shock, a hint of vulnerability that made Steve's stomach lurch, yet still with an undercurrent of defiance that had become coupled with him dealing with any of Steve's nonsense.

He could no longer form words. He wanted to concede that yes, he did tell Jonathan that. He wanted to give a snarky retort about cow-bell necklaces and knowing what to get Jonathan for his birthday. But most of all, he wanted to insist that Jonathan misunderstood him, that he wasn't actually talking about loving a guy, let alone him, no matter how implausible that may be. Instead, he focussed on the task at hand, preparing his grandma's famous paella and ignoring the elephant in the room. He had gotten damn good at it the last few months, what was another five minutes?

"Steve…" Nancy murmured, placing a hand on his elbow and tapping it gently, wordlessly coaxing him before gathering up some cutlery and making her way over to the table and beginning to set it, her back carefully turned to both boys, giving some semblance of privacy.

He refused to look up from the stove however, merely snatching up the salad bowl and shoving it into Jonathan's hands with a strained: "Make yourself useful, Byers."

Don't make a toss the salad joke. Don't make a toss the salad joke. DO NOT make a toss the salad joke!

Much like all the seemingly endless instances of late, he could feel the photographer's gaze on him, but wouldn't relent. Instead, he set about putting food on plates. That he could do without contemplating his sanity, considering jumping out the window, or pulling Jonathan towards him and giving him another demonstration of just what his mouth could do.

Goddamnit, Harrington. Are you even trying?

"Since when can you cook?"

Steve grabbed on to that snarky lifeline like a drowning man.

"Since I was five," he replied with an air of arrogance he knew rang false as he directed a smirk down at his caramelised onions, "contrary to popular belief Byers, I'm not just a pretty face."

Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve. Blow your own horn, much? Oh great. Now you're thinking about blowing—

"I know," Jonathan inadvertently cut across his inner tangent, an inscrutable look on his face and tone to his voice that Steve didn't understand but felt the weight of deep in his chest.

Almost without realising, he had broken his dogged avoidance of eye-contact and now stared right up at Byers' gaze as it shone with that same unfathomable gleam that he could never quite figure out.

Did he actually just compliment me? Have I fallen into some weird, parallel dimension where Jonathan Byers praises me? Is was a nicer version of the Upside Down?

The Downside Up?

All the oxygen had evaporated from the kitchen. Somewhere on the outside of Steve's stunned impersonation of a gaping fish, he knew that he should say something, make a snappy retort that let the other boy know that he wasn't deeply affected by his simple but warm words, even though he sure as hell was. Yet before he could utter a sound, Jonathan cleared his throat, shrugging.

"You also got a mean swing with a bat," he continued with an air of nonchalance that Steve wasn't sure he believed, peeking over to where Nancy was finishing setting the table, pretending that she wasn't eavesdropping, his voice dropping a decibel as he finished, "you're not a bad kisser either."

A clatter of cutlery hitting plates jolted Steve from his paralysis, both he and Byers whirling around to Nancy who threw them a sheepish glance as she hurriedly righted her mistake. Steve raised his eyebrows at her, accidentally catching Jonathan's gaze again, his heart leaping in his chest at the mischievous look crossing it.

Jesus H Christ, Stevie Boy. What the hell have you gotten yourself into?

If he could bear to look at Jonathan closely, he would see the tenseness of his shoulders, the furrowed line between his eyebrows, the forced smirk on his face. But Steve glossed over it all, pretending that he didn't realise just how nervous the other boy was because someone was currently yelling his name.

"Steeeeeven Harrington—come on down!"

His stomach lurched unpleasantly at the very familiar, if muffled tone. If God was real, Steve was pretty sure the big guy hated him.

"What is that?" Nancy asked, turning her head to the kitchen window where the hollering was wafting from.

The three teens huddled together, staring through the rectangular glass that faced out into the Harrington's back yard, revealing none other than Tommy H and Carol standing poolside, the former posed on the diving board, arms spread out and head tipped to the sky as he continued to yell at the top of his lungs.

"COME ON, STEVEN. YOUR AUDIENCE AWAITS!"

Nancy gripped his elbow tightly, but Steve broke out of her grasp when he surged forward, storming over to the back door and wrenching it open with such a forceful yank that the smack of it hitting against the wall made Carol jump. He wasn't sorry.

"Oh Luke! Leia! Han!"

Steve didn't have to turn to know that Nancy and Jonathan were right behind him, poised for the fight that was undoubtedly coming. Tommy gave an elated grin that bordered on manic when he saw them, whooping and bouncing on the diving board so that the entire thing shook as he called out.

"There they are…Hawkins very own golden trio. You know, you really shouldn't leave the gate unlocked like that, Stevie boy," he smirked, his wide and cloudy gaze finding his ex-best friend, "and in case you were wondering, Harrington, you're Luke. As much as I don't wanna make Byers Solo, we both know you're just the right level of lame and creepy to be Luke. That and…" he waved his hand dismissively, pulling a face, "you're probably sick enough to wanna fuck a family member."

Steve's jaw clenched as he forced his voice to remain level, "what do you want, Tommy?"

Tommy let out a humourless laugh, hands shoved in his pockets as he jumped off the diving board onto the pavement, walking around the pool and halting a few feet from them.

"Just came by to see how your head's doin', princess," he smirked, exchanging a glance with Carol, "you sure went down like a little bitch. Thought Byers was gonna have to haul your ass to the ER."

A blur shot around Steve and shoved Tommy. Hard.

"You could have killed him you asshole!"

Tommy stumbled backwards, caught off guard as the 5'3", 106-pound girl barrelled into him with a power generated by raw fury, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Nancy!"

"Aww," Tommy snorted as Steve and Jonathan both came to stand next to Nancy, "what's wrong, five feet o' heat? You mad I got the drop on your pussy boyfriend? Sorry—" He held up a hand as if to correct himself, "pussy boyfriends. You're fucking that freak too, right?" He gestured to Jonathan with a scowl. "Guess Steve was right. You really are a slut, Nancy Whee—"

Before either Steve or Jonathan could react, Nancy reared back her fist and punched Tommy square in the nose, a loud crunch, followed by a burst of blood cutting him off. Carol let out a scream as he fell backwards into the pool with a heavy splash, the water laced with a whirl of tell-tale crimson.

"You crazy bitch!" Carol yelled as she kneeled by the pool as Tommy resurfaced, outstretching her hand for Tommy to take, only to have him angrily bat it away, blood gushing down his face.

The sound of a camera shutter plunged them all into silence. With wide eyes, Steve slowly turned his head to regard Jonathan who was nonchalantly lowing his camera from where it had been pointed down at the couple, a smirk on his face. Forcing back a chuckle, Steve turned to Tommy, leaning down slightly, resting his hands on his knees.

"Wow, Tommy boy. Just what will Hawkins High think of their big, bad wrestling star getting knocked to his ass by a five foot, one-hundred-pound girl, huh?" He tilted his head, awaiting a response. When he got none, he took a step backwards.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. So, here's the deal," he rubbed his hands together, glaring from Tommy to Carol and back again, "you two, and all of your dumbass friends, leave us the hell alone. From now until graduation. No more threats, no more taunts, no more stealing or damaging our shit. Nothing."

He paused for dramatic effect. Because fuck it. He was enjoying himself.

"Or, Jonathan here plasters that pretty picture all over the school, the parking lot, hell, the fucking movie theatre, Benny's Burgers and football field while he's at it. So everybody in Hawkins can know just how bad Tommy Harris takes a punch from a girl half his size," he crouched down, catching Tommy's thunderous gaze and throwing him a wink, "sound fair, Palpatine?"

Carol let out a shrill noise that was half-way between a laugh and a cry as she glowered up at them, "nice bluff, asshole. Byers just got evidence of Wheeler breaking the law. She assaulted him! If you losers try anything, we'll go straight to the cops!"

Steve shook his head at her, marvelling just how little Tommy's so-called girlfriend could know about the guy she's meant to give two shits about.

"Oh, you mean how Tommy assaulted me and Byers? Or how you two are technically trespassing right now? That kinda breaking the law? That right, Tommy? You gonna turn Nancy in? Tell them all about how she knocked ya on your ass and broke your nose?"

If looks could kill, Steve would be on his way to the pearly gates right then and there. Or the fiery pits of the underworld. Who the hell knew at this point.

"Yeah," he nodded, straightening up and putting his hands back in his pockets, "that's what I thought. Now get the hell off my property."

Slowly, he turned on the spot, ever aware of both Nancy and Jonathan's gazes on him, "you guys go on in. I'll make sure they find their way out."

He waited several beats, long enough for Carol to scramble out towards the car and for Byers and Nancy to head towards the back door, before whirling back silently and stalking over to where Tommy was hauling himself out of the pool with a grunt.

"It didn't have to be like this you know."

He watched as his ex-best friend stilled, half-turned away from him.

"I never wanted it to be like this," he continued as he took another step, allowing the regret, anger and pain seep back into his tone.

"But you left me no choice, man. So, it is what it is," Steve shrugged, lowering his voice even further, until it was nothing more than a whisper, "and so help me, if you don't knock it off, don't leave me, Nance and Jonathan alone, I'll do a hell of a lot more than embarrass you with some pictures," he took one last step, now so close to him that his breath bounced off the other boy's cheek.

"I was your best friend for over ten years, Tommy. Way I see it, the only perk was that I got a lot more dirt on you than you ever got on me. Remember that."

Steve went to turn away from him, but Tommy's hand shot out, grasping his shoulder roughly as he spat, "really, Steve? You'd rather hang out with that…that…fucking freak…than me? He's…he's nothing but a white-trash psycho that—"

Steve shoved his hand off his shoulder, grabbing Tommy by the collar and growling, "Jonathan Byers is more man than you'll ever be. A better person than you could ever dream of being, and has made me a better friend and happier person than you ever did! So, I swear to god, Tommy," he paused, his teeth grinding as his jaw clenched painfully, "this is your last warning—leave us. The Fuck. Alone."

Without waiting for a response, Steve turned on his heel and followed Nancy and Jonathan, his new best friends, feeling a weight that he had been carrying on his shoulders for months now, finally lift from him. He was free of the prison that was Tommy Harris. Ready to live his life as his own person, on his own terms. And if he was lucky?

He could share it with a nerd and a weirdo that made him feel less alone than he had ever felt.

With a deep breath, Steve entered his house and slammed the door behind him. Nancy and Jonathan stood a mere two feet across the threshold, the former's hand cradled in the latter's, twin gazes watching him. Silently, they all waited as the unmistakable sound of Tommy's car starting and pulling out of the Harrington's driveway at what must have been an alarming speed, reached their ears.

When the obnoxious revving of an engine could no longer be heard, Steve finally let out the breath he didn't realise he had been holding. As his shoulders sunk with relief, he murmured, "well, now that that's over, I gotta go lock the gate. Then dinner is—"

Jonathan surged forward, pulling Steve's head down to his level and swallowing the rest of his sentence with his lips. Steve froze for approximately a nanosecond before relaxing into the kiss, letting himself savour it, unlike their first. Jonathan's lips felt different than Nancy's, but just as pleasant. He was very aware that Nancy was still holding onto Jonathan's hand and could feel her beaming at them as the photographer gripped the back of Steve's neck with his other.

The taller boy supressed a shiver as Jonathan's long fingers brushed against his skin, his tongue simultaneously licking at his bottom lip. Steve gasped, a heat pooling in the pit of his stomach as Jonathan broke the kiss that held so much promise, taking a step back and looking up at him with that same indistinguishable carob gaze that had been driving him steadily crazy for the past several months.

"What…" Steve swallowed, taking some deep breaths, "was that for?"

Jonathan merely gave a one-shouldered shrug, exchanging a look with Nancy who was barely supressing a laugh, "just returning the favour, Harrington."

As their eyes met once more, Steve knew in that moment that Jonathan had somehow heard what he had said to Tommy. Just like he knew that neither of them would ever really acknowledge that he did.

"So…what was it you were saying about dinner?" Nancy broke the short silence that had engulfed them as the two boys stared at one another, each realising that all of their lives now hung on a precipice, never to be the same as they had been before, now that they had finally taken this leap into the deep, but not dark, unknown.

Steve chuckled at her, leaning forward and pecking her softly on the lips, "you get Jonathan to look at that hand, then we can think about dinner, Wheeler. I'm gonna go and lock up," he gestured behind him, walking backwards as he called to Jonathan, "I trust you to take care of our featherweight champion, Byers. Not that she needs it."

With that, he raced out to the backyard, a spring in his step as he dead-bolted the gate, shaking his head at the goofy grin he could feel spreading across his face. They may have to still have a conversation, many conversations about just what all this meant, the ins and outs of their new dynamic. But they had time for that. His grin only grew larger as when he walked back towards the house, he caught quite the sight through the window. Jonathan was tenderly cleaning Nancy's hand, mumbling something Steve couldn't hear, she leaning forward and kissing him, the two pulling away after a few seconds, identical smiles on their faces.

God, we're disgusting.

I love it.

Steve couldn't help but remember, only a year ago, when he first watched Nancy and Jonathan through a window and marvelled at how different he now felt. How he had once been filled with rage and jealousy and pain, and now only felt…happy. Happy and lighter than he could ever remember feeling. It would be a moment that he knew he would recall in years to come, anytime things got too much, or whenever he needed a pick me up. This moment would bring him back to earth. It was perfect.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

"Shit! My paella!"

Well. It was close enough.

It did not take long to realise that the duel-torture of Jonathan Byers' lips on his neck and Nancy Wheeler's lips on his chest was a sure-fire way to make Steve Harrington fall apart. It was something his subconscious had undoubtedly known, as those ever-so-helpful dreams he had had for months had predicted, but nothing, no dream or fantasy, could quite prepare him for the reality.

"Fuck…" he gasped as Jonathan's teeth grazed his jugular, Nancy's nails scratching a trail down his abdomen.

"You asked me once why I took your picture."

It took Steve a few seconds to realise that Jonathan was talking to him, murmuring soft words into his skin.

"Uh…huh," he struggled to respond as Jonathan deftly squeezed him through his jeans, Nancy beginning to pull down the zipper, agonisingly slowly.

It had been seven months since…well, everything. Faceless monsters and alternate universes, kids coming back from the dead and others staying that way. It had been seven months since he and Nancy started going steady and he told Tommy H and Carol what he really thought of them. It had been seven months since he bought Jonathan Byers a new camera and everything…changed.

It had been three months since they all realised just what they meant to each other.

It had been two months since they first spent the night together in every meaning of the word, and Steve could still hardly believe it. But this right here, Jonathan and Nancy in his bed and teasing him so damn much, those fuckers, that was pretty believable by now.

What a world.

"Well, the truth is," Jonathan continued, almost conversationally as he ran his hand down the front of Steve's boxers, snapping him from his musings as his breath bounced against his ear, causing a rippling of goose bumps to rise all over his upper body, "I did it because…you just looked so…good. I took the picture before I really thought about it. And I don't regret it."

The words simultaneously sounded as if they were ripped from Byers against his will and a weighted confession that he couldn't wait to get off his chest, and Steve lapped up every syllable. He knew, at least for now, it was as close as the photographer could get to a declaration.

"Careful, Byers," he grinned, his breath a little hitched as he finally met his gaze, "I'll start thinking you have a thing for me."

Jonathan snorted, "fuck you, Harrington."

"I thought that's what we were trying to do?"

Both boys turned to grin at Nancy's faux-unimpressed look, Steve leaning down and clasped her jaw, kissing her soundly, running his tongue across her bottom lip as she straddled his lap. He felt Jonathan's fingers move to his hair, burying themselves in his tresses and tugging with just the right amount of strength that caused a shiver to flow up Steve's spine.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

It was funny. Steve thought that after everything that had happened over the last few months, he would finally be used to waking up in a bed with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers either side of him. Yet, as he turned his head to the right and watched the moonlight spill over his girlfriend's ivory shoulder, then turned his head to the left to watch that same moonlight drape itself over his…boyfriend's hip bone, he didn't think it was something he would ever get used to.

"I know you're staring."

"You don't know shit."

Jonathan blinked open his eyes and to no one's surprise, met Steve's gaze instantly as he had in fact, been staring.

"You're an idiot, Harrington," Jonathan shook his head in exasperation, his tone noticeably a lot fonder than Steve was used to hearing when people said those words.

"Takes one to know one, Byers," he replied cheekily, laughing outright when Jonathan shoved him.

"You're both children," Nancy piped up, not bothering to turn to acknowledge either of them.

Steve glanced over his shoulder with a smirk, "aww, what's wrong, Nance? Feeling like a third wheel…er?"

Nancy and Jonathan groaned in unison.

"I hate you."

Steve watched as his girlfriend sat up in the bed, her bare back gleaming in the moonlight as she stole Jonathan's shirt and pulled it over her head, her petite form swimming in the material as she hopped out of the bed and fixed them both with a faux-indignant look.

"Come on, we've got birthday cake to eat."

Steve shoved down the bubble of laughter that desperately wanted to claw up his throat as his brain flew straight to the gutter.

Don't say you've already ate. Don't say you've already ate. DO NOT say you've already ate!

"You make the stupidest face when you're trying to hold back a dirty joke, you know," Jonathan informed him with another shove, pulling on his boxers and mirroring Nancy, the two standing side-by-side, looking down at him.

Steve's eyes flickered from one to the other, a warmth spreading across his chest as he leaned up on his elbows, tilting his head at the pair.

"You know you love me."

Neither of them disagreed.

Steve rubbed his hands together gleefully as he put the popcorn down on the coffee table, smirking at Jonathan who was busy hooking up whatever movie it was that he was (not really) forcing Steve and Nancy to watch tonight. He stood admiring the firm line of Jonathan's shoulders for a few minutes (hey, he was allowed to now, sue him), before leaning over and switching on his dad's radio.

I feel so unsure as I take your hand and lead you to the dance floor…

The dulcet tones of George Michael brought a smile to Steve's face as Nancy entered the living room, pizza in hand, her face pinched.

"Come on, Nance," he took the pizza with one hand and her fingers with the other, leading her to the couch, "sit down."

"What is this?"

Steve's grin widened at Nancy's tone, tilting his head to lay against the back of couch as she shifted closer to him, winding her arm across to rest on his abdomen, her head falling to his shoulder.

"It's the new George Michael song. You don't like it?"

He reached out to touch the little wrinkle that had formed between her eyebrows, his grin softening as she rolled her eyes at him.

"Why would she?" Jonathan piped up as he made his way over to them, remote in hand, taking his seat on the other side of Steve, pressed against him from thigh to toe, "you have the absolute shittiest taste in music, Mr-The-Olivia-Newton-John-Cassette-In-My-Car-Is-My-Mom's-Not-Mine."

Steve glared at Jonathan as he stretched his arm across his shoulder to rest on the back of the couch, his fingers brushing against the little sliver of skin not covered by Steve's T-shirt.

"Fuck you, Byers."

It had been seven months since the world flipped upside down.

It had been three since it, for the most part, righted itself again.

And Steve couldn't wait for what lay ahead.

The two shared a grin, Jonathan turning off the radio, settling back and catching Nancy's eye over Steve's head.

"This movie's awesome. The same guy who directed that new movie Mike and Will are obsessed with, Ghostbusters or whatever, directed it. You guys are gonna love it."

Steve and Nancy shared a look, both tickled at Jonathan's excitement as the former shrugged, "well, you know what they say," he winked, making himself comfortable in between the two people that meant the world to him, "stranger things have happened."

Annnnnnnnd that's all, folks!

I did initially intend to go a little more explicit with the sexy times, but as I considered the tone of the story, I felt just a hint of it was enough for this piece. Sorry if anyone is madly disappointed. I will consider writing more explicit smut pending any season two inspiration I may get. And I do have a little something (a bonus scene) left belonging to this story that I may add some time down the line, but as of now – Have Happened is done. I hope you all enjoyed it.

Wow, I had a blast writing this. Here's to season two. Who knows, it could spur me into writing more about these three losers ;)

~Ck xoxo