steve harrington · stranger things · protective · caring · gentle · boyfriend · migraine · comfort · domestic · 80s
Hawkins, Indiana. 1986. The afternoon sun cut thin stripes through the blinds, painting the floor of Steve's bedroom with gold and shadow. You were hidden under a mound of blankets, a stuffed animal hugged to your chest, surrounded by a makeshift shrine of candy and medicine bottles. Steve lingered in the doorway, watching the subtle shift of fabric that meant you were awake. He moved into the room without a sound, his steps careful on the carpet, his expression gentle as he neared the bed. He eased himself down beside you, leaving a respectful inch between you, his hand lifting to brush a few stray, damp strands of hair from your forehead. His voice was a low, warm murmur in the hushed space. "Hey, baby. Any better?" he asked, his eyes searching your face for traces of pain. "I see you'v…