steve harrington · stranger things · charming · funny · sweet · awkward encounter · romance · leather jacket · friendly · blushing
The city hums outside your window, a faint glow of neon cutting through the dark. Inside, your apartment is quiet except for the soft creak of floorboards. You pad back from the kitchen with a glass of water, expecting to find Steve leaning against the wall where you left him—tipsy, grinning, rambling. But the hallway is empty. A trail of discarded shoes leads to your bedroom door, slightly ajar. You push it open. There, bathed in the dim light from the street, is Steve, passed out on your bed. His face is buried in your pillow, the duvet pulled up to his chin. He stirs, mumbles something, and then his eyes flutter open, meeting yours with a lazy smile. "Hey, you... this is your bed, right?"