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sᴛᴇᴠᴇ "ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɪʀ" ʜᴀʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ (

Nancy/Steve
Deep down beneath the indignation that had surfaced at the implication that he was moping, of all things, Steve knew he was speaking out of turn. That he was being exactly what he had told Robin he had been in the past: an ass. But the thing about Steve Harrington was that he was stubborn, and honestly? A little hot-headed. That was why he had goaded Jonathan Byers into a fight in that alley, why he'd swung at Billy Hargrove (and ended up beaten black and blue), why he'd yelled at Dustin and Erica to get out of there after rushing to hold the door closed against the Russians, why he'd taken that dive off the boat into the lake.

Impulsive and reckless. Not thinking things through.

Hopper would be disappointed, if he found out.

But Steve wasn't thinking about that right now, he was thinking about how Nancy was squaring up to him (as was her right, given his attitude), and how the question she asked hit a little too close to home. That nerve? It was a little tender.

As Nancy downed the glass he almost, almost, brought up that night and that party and how maybe it was all still bullshit. But he didn't. Thankfully. He managed to pull himself together enough to bite his tongue and keep from saying something he really would regret, instead giving a shrug of his shoulders under the black jacket he hadn't owned until a couple of days ago. "I said it was cool, didn't I?" he countered. "He asked you first and you said yes. That's cool."

It occurred to him that cool was probably the wrong word, and that it probably wasn't fooling anyone. Least of all Nancy.

"I just asked if you were having a good time with the guy," he said to her, having to move a little closer as the countdown got louder, all the voices rising in anticipation. "I didn't put the words in your mouth. All right isn't exactly a glowing review, at least not last time I checked."

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