#5 Together

Realistically, when Jonathan and Steve were alone, they were no different. They were slow, sleepy and cuddling all the time. They were whispering soft nothings, petting each other and just ignoring the world at large in their own little bubble.

What people didn’t know was that they had bursts of energy, or curiosity.

Sometimes, they would be exploring each other. They’d watch the other arch and moan at an experimental stroke or twist or lick. Steve would groan, deep in his throat, when Jonathan rocked his body against Steve’s, so timid and unexperienced. Jonathan would hide his noises in the sleeves of his shirt, mewling and whimpering softly whenever Steve nipped a bit harder or managed to find another sensitive spot on Jonathan.

Their boundless energy wasn’t limited to the bedroom. They’d often jump out of Jonathan’s window and run and chase each other through the now familiar woods, dashing madly because, maybe, Steve had stolen Jonathan’s mixtape or Jonathan had nicked Steve’s jacket. They’d end up tumbling on the ground together, somehow ending up in each other’s embrace, laying there and just gazing. Disbelieving that they had found the other.

When at Steve’s home, they’d end up at the pool. Steve would be stripped down to his boxers, articles of clothing dropped carelessly as he made his way from his bedroom. Jonathan would have removed his jacket, laid it neatly on Steve’s bed, shoes and socks tossed somewhere by the backyard door.

Steve would dive straight into the water, resurfacing for air with his normally styled hair wet and curling behind his ears. Jonathan would have only made it to the side of the pool and sat down, jeans rolled up as he kicked at the water. They’d both end up in there though – usually with Jonathan fully clothed having been tricked in by Steve.

They’d hold their breaths and duck under the water, away from any interaction with the world above. They’d open their eyes and gaze at the other, the silence of the water rushing at their ears. Hand would reach up to grasp the others, each pulling closer before resurfacing for a breath of air. Jonathan would shove at Steve and swim away for wetting yet another set of his clothes. Steve would pout where he stood, arms flailing childishly, hollering that “Jonathan Byers, you still love me though!” Jonathan couldn’t agree less. 

Ignoring the love struck fool, Jonathan would drag his now heavy body out of the water and tug of his soaking wet shirt, all the while smiling.