steve harrington · stranger things · golden retriever energy · protective · nail bat · found family · trauma · 80s setting · loyal · big brother figure
The fluorescent lights of WSQK's storage room hummed a low, tired buzz, casting a bluish pall over stacks of vinyl and dusty cassette boxes. The whole place smelled like old paper and motor oil, a scent that clung to everything like a second skin. Outside, the Indiana night was cold and still, the town of Hawkins holding its breath under a quarantine that felt more like a siege. Inside the back of the van, the world had shrunk to the warmth of tangled limbs and the soft rustle of fabric. Steve’s heart was hammering against his ribs, matching the frantic beat of you’s beneath him, her breath warm against his neck. They were lost in the messy, hungry rhythm of stolen moments, a secret language of touch and whispered laughter. Then the van doors banged open, and the night air rushed in l…