A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song Disco 2000 by Pulp and is set 15 years after the series (in the year 2000), with the older kids being in their early 30s. I hope you all enjoy it.
You were pretty sure that when you were a kid, there had never been a single moment when you were nervous about seeing Steve Harrington. After all, he had been your neighbour from day dot; Hell, you had been born within a day of one another, a coincidence that your mothers had never let you forget. He'd always been your favourite dorky playmate, even when you'd turned into teenagers, stumbling home from house parties together and sneaking in to avoid getting in trouble.
But now, sitting in Hawkins for the first time since you were a teenager, you were starting to grow anxious. I mean, sure he'd been one of your best friends when you were kids, but now you were fully grown and there was no knowing whether your personalities would mesh or not. And God, there was every chance he wouldn't even show; he might not have even remembered the plans you'd made back when you were teenagers.
You picked at the corner of your thumbnail, head dipped low whilst you were perched on the edge of the fountain, right in the spot you'd agreed before you'd headed out of state for college. It was an odd sensation, really, waiting around for him like this when it had always been the other way around before.
A shadow fell over you, causing you to jump slightly, your head snapping up to find Steve grinning down at you. And he looked exactly like you'd remembered, handsome in that preppy way that seemed to come so naturally to him, but just a little older.
"I wasn't sure whether you'd come," he confessed quietly, moving to sit beside you and pulling you into an awkward side hug as if no time had passed at all.
"Yeah," you hummed softly. "I wasn't sure whether you'd even remember; we were pretty drunk when we made the plans-"
"Oh, I've been counting down the days," he interrupted. "Crossing off the days in my calendar like a kid waiting for Christmas," he pressed on. "It's honestly a little pathetic," he added, drawing a snort of laughter out of you.
You nudged his shoulder with yours, unable to fight the smile that had so effortlessly settled onto your features. "So, what's been happening in the life of Steve Harrington?"
He took in a deep, whistling inhale. "Honestly, not all that much. Finally caved and got a job at Dad's company, so stayed in Hawkins. Got a little place on the outskirts-"
"You must have a whole horde of kids by now, right? You always said you wanted 'em," you interrupted, shifting to look at him, only to find his smile faded from his features.
"No kids," he finally breathed out. "Just haven't found the right person, you know?" You bit down on your bottom lip, nodding slightly. "What about you? Last time I saw your mom she mentioned a wedding."
You swallowed around the lump in your throat. "Yeah," you murmured. "Got married in 92," you pressed on. "I've got 2 kids, too. Madison is 6; Joshua turns 4 next month."
Steve let out a soft chuckle. "Sounds like you've got that American Dream thing going on. Bet your husbands a lawyer or something; got you in a pretty house with the white picket fence and everything," he teased.
"Ex-husband," you interjected softly, giving a small shrug when Steve's expression dropped.
"I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be," you interrupted. "Neither of us was happy and it wasn't good for the kids, so I called time on it; think we get on better now that we're separated."
He nodded slightly. "You always knew how to follow your gut-"
A sharp snort of laughter cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "I didn't," you chuckled. "When we were teenagers I was a mess," you pressed on. "You think I would've let us hang around with Tommy and Carole if I was good at following my gut? Those guys sucked."
"Well, it always seemed like you had your head screwed on right, to me. Stayed out of trouble, got good grades, didn't date any of the idiot basketball players that were always trying to hit on you, high-tailed it out of Hawkins the second you got the chance. Sounds like you made some pretty great decisions to me."
You shrugged. "I stayed out of trouble and got good grades because my parents would've gone crazy if I didn't," you hummed. "And I left town for college; believe it or not, I liked living here." You hesitated for a moment, taking in a deep breath as you risked a glance in his direction. "And I never dated any of the idiot basketball players because the only one I gave a shit about never asked me out," you rushed out, watching as his brow furrowed slightly.
"Pretty sure they all asked you out; Hell, you were all they ever wanted to talk about-"
"Steve," you interjected gently. "Think it through."
He sat quietly for a moment, counting on his fingers as he thought through the team, working out who on Earth wouldn't have hit on you back in the day. And then, his brow had furrowed further before his eyes had shot open in surprise. "Me?"
"Yeah, I know that it's sort of corny, but when our moms used to talk about us getting married and having kids I sort of just assumed they were right. And then you started dating Nancy, and-"
"And then you'd already left for college by the time we broke up," he finished for you. "I always just assumed that you didn't like me like that," he added softly.
The two of you sat quietly for a while, just listening to the silence. You watched your feet as you swung your legs, only stopping when Steve reached out to put his hand on your knee.
"You know I thought about it all the time," he hummed. "About marrying you and having kids and-" he paused for a moment. "Shit, I never stopped thinking about it. Tried to forget about you when you left, but everyone I've ever dated has been competing against someone they've never even met, and they never even came close to winning."
"See, my gut instincts couldn't have been that good, could they?" you teased. "I always sort of assumed that you saw me as that annoying sister you never had."
"Shit, if anyone thinks about their sister the way I thought about you, then they probably need investigating."
You released a choked snort of laughter at his comment, shaking your head in disbelief.
"Let me take you out for dinner," he started softly.
"Steve," you murmured. "I've got kids and I'm a total mess; I'm not the same person I was when I was a teenager."
"Well, that's good to hear; I'd've been a bit worried if you were," he told you. "And I know you're a mom, but that doesn't mean I can't like you, does it?"
You hesitated for a moment. "Most guys don't want to date a single mom."
Steve shrugged slightly. "I'm not most guys, am I?"
"No, you're not."
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