Joe Keery Imagines

Unsure Help-Steve Harrington

"So?" I scoffed. "Sorry," I quickly apologized. "It's just, Johnathan Byers? Really? Over you?"

I looked away before I could see his smirk. "Were they doing anything?" I asked, still not looking at him.

"Well. . . No," he hesitated. "But they were sitting really close together on her bed."

"Don't you think that was an overreaction?" I asked as I gestured towards the paint. "Steve, they were only talking. He might have been comforting her. Did you even ask her what happened?"

"No," he said softly.

"Then let me answer my earlier question," I chuckled. "Yes, that was an overreaction."

"But. . ."

"But nothing," I cut him off. "Admit it, Steve. You overreacted."

He glanced down at me before glancing back at the sign. He sighed as he went back to cleaning. When he finished, he handed me the cleaning supplies and climbed down the ladder.

"How does that look?" He asked me.

"As good as new." I finally got a closer look at his face.

"Johnathan's work?" I asked, nodding towards his injuries. He sent me a sheepish smile as he shrugged.

"I'm guessing you lost?" I laughed. I quickly cleared my throat when he looked up at me. I felt my face slightly burn as he smiled.

"It was a tie," he defended himself with a small chuckle. I looked over when he gasped in pain.

"Come with me," I said.

"What?"

"We have a first aid kit in the breakroom," I explained.

"I still don't understand. . ."

"Wow," I smirked. "Johnathan's got a strong right-hook, huh?"

"Ha-ha," he fake laughed.

"Come on, Harrington," I chuckled. "Let me clean you up."

* * * * *

As I cleaned Steve up, neither one of us said anything. Johnathan really did a number on him. I tried to see it from his point of view but I couldn't. Sure, seeing Nancy with Johnathan would cause questions, but he didn't ask those questions.

Then again, Johnathan Byers over Steve Harrington?

"Can I ask you something?" I hesitated as I finished cleaning him up.

"Of course."

"Why'd you fight Johnathan?"

"I told you," he stuttered.

"I guess the real question is whether he fought you for what you did to Nancy or something else."

He looked away and moved some hair out of his face. "Wow," I said under my breath. "You're on a roll today."

"It's complicated," he blurted out the first excuse he could think of. He looked back at me with guilt in his eyes.

"I know you care about Nancy," I sighed, "but maybe. . . Never mind."

"What?" He asked.

"It's nothing," I said quickly.

"Maybe what, Y/N?"

"Really," I stuttered. "It's nothing."

I busied myself with throwing away the used bandages and putting away the first aid kit. I was about to walk out of the breakroom, but Steve grabbed my hand. He turned me toward him, but I didn't look up at him. I couldn't. I was too embarrassed.

"Y/N," he said softly. "Please look at me."

I took a shaky breath as I gathered my courage. I slowly looked up at him to see him smiling at me.

"You really think I'm better than him?"

"Of course," I whispered. "But then again. . ."

I instantly shut my mouth, not wanting to dig myself any deeper than I had already dug myself.

"Then again what?"

"Nothing," I stuttered. "Just forget it."

I started to walk away again, but Steve instantly stopped me. He grabbed my elbow, his hand slowly sliding down my arm until it got to mine. I sucked in a breath and held it as he intertwined our fingers. He turned me toward him and used his free hand to gently grab my chin and lift my head.

"Then again what?" He whispered.

"Then again Nancy isn't good enough for you," I whispered back.

"She's not," he whispered as he reached down and grabbed my hands.

"I should be with someone who would never give Johnathan Byers the time of day," Steve said slowly as he leaned in.

I gasped when he pressed his lips to mine. I instantly started kissing him back. The second I did, the kiss heated up. Our lips roughly moved against each other as we stumbled back until we bumped into the counter. Steve was about to pick me up and put me on the counter, but I stopped him.

Part of me knew we shouldn't do this yet, but I couldn't resist him. We broke the kiss and looked into each other's eyes as we caught our breaths.

"Steve," I whispered. "I should get back to work."

"Or," he elongated, "I can come back to watch that movie that just came out and you could come clean the theater."

"I clean the theater after. . ." I slowly let my sentence drop when the look on his face made me realize what he had meant.

"Oh," I said under my breath. My face burned the longer he looked at me with that expression on his face.

"As tempting as that is," I said, clearing my throat. I looked back up at him, all joking aside as I said, "If we do this, I want to start it off right. Not by cheating on Nancy Wheeler. No matter what she did or didn't do with Johnathan Byers."

"I mean, we're basically broken up," he shrugged. "She's been fooling around with Johnathan–I think– and when I went to her house, they were really close. And on her bed. When I asked her about it, she got all defensive and. . .

"Steve," I cut him off. His smirk dropped.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You're right. How about this: why don't I go and officially break up with Nancy and then I can pick you up after work and we can go to dinner? What time is your shift over?"

"Not until 7:30."

"How about I pick you up at 8 o'clock?"

"Are you sure?" I stuttered. "That's kinda late for dinner."

"So?" He shrugged. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest.

"Pick you up at 8?"

"As long as you don't mind going to dinner with a girl that smells like popcorn."

He leaned in, his lips inches from mine. As he spoke, I could feel his lips gently and randomly touch mine.

"I think it's kinda hot."