What do you think? I think you're an idiot. (Dustin Henderson x Reader)

8: Spycraft and duffel bags.

Y/n's pov

Steve's binoculars looked around, scanning the crowd from behind the pillar that Dustin, Steve and I currently hid behind.

Robin had sent us to 'search the mall' for evil Russians while she finished translating, but honestly she probably just wanted Steve and Dustin to leave her alone.

She sent me to keep them on track and make sure they didn't get themselves into any trouble.

"See anything?" I asked, bored out of my mind.

"Uh." Steve said, the binoculars still roaming. "I guess I don't exactly know what I'm looking for."

"Evil Russians." Dustin said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like." Steve said.

"Tall, blonde, not smiling?" Dustin explained. "Also look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags. That sort of thing."

"Dustin, this isn't some action movie." I said, glancing at him. "But... yeah, maybe duffel bags."

"Right. Okay. Duffel bags." Steve nodded.

There was a short silence while we searched the mall, our eyes straining as people chatted.

3rd persons pov

Dustin's eyes scanned the noisy crowd, his eyes landing on a group of teenagers by the fountain.

Four boys and three girls, an ongoing reminder of his 'welcome' home.

Dustin missed the way things used to be.
As much as he was thrilled to be going on a top secret mission to save the country from Russians with his girlfriend, he missed being with his friends, he missed being with the whole party.

He missed playing D&D in Mike's basement all day.

He missed sneaking into an R rated horror movies and then being scared to go to sleep for weeks after.

He missed having group Halloween costumes where they would always argue about who got to be who.

He missed it all, just as much as y/n missed it.

Suddenly, Steve spoke, tearing Dustin out of his thoughts and ripping his gaze from his beautiful... girlfriend...

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Steve said from beside the boy.

And just like that, Dustin was back in spy mode.

Y/n's pov

"What?" Dustin asked from beside me.

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky." Steve pouted from behind his binoculars.

I rolled my eyes and looked over to see Dustin doing the same.

"If you're not gonna focus, just give us the binoculars." I huffed in annoyance.

"Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards?" He complained, ignoring me altogether. "I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench."

"Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?" Dustin lectured.

He ripped the binoculars out of Steve's hands, but Steve never took his eyes off the sight, despite the strap that was still secured around his neck. As it pulled tighter, Steve weakly swat at him in attempt to get Dustin to stop as he tried to pull them away.

"Stop. Hey, stop." Steve whined.

"Give me those." Dustin commanded.

"Besides." Dustin said, glancing at me and raising the binoculars to his eyes. "I don't know why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect girl right in front of you."

"Seriously." Steve scoffed, knowing what was going to happen. "If you say Robin again-"

"Robin." Dustin cut him off.

"No, Don't. No-" Steve argued.

"Robin, Robin, Robin." I joined in.

"Stop. No, no, no-" Steve disagreed.

"Robin, Robin." Dustin repeated, pulling away from his binoculars to give Steve a knowing look. "Robin."

"No." Steve dismissed.

"Robin." I said once more.

"No!" Steve cried. "No, man, she's not my type. She's not even... in the ballpark of what my type is, alright?"

"What's your type again?" Dustin asked.

"Not awesome?" I finished for him, raising my eyebrows at Steve.

"Thank you." Steve said sarcastically to me.

"For your information, she's still in school. And she's weird. She's a weirdo. And she's hyper. I don't like that she's hyper. And she did
drama-That's a bad look. And she's in band? No." Steve lectured, shaking his head in disgust.

I stared at Steve with my eyebrows raised, and an 'are you serious' look and Dustin pulled away from the binoculars to give Steve a baffled look.

"Now that you're out of high school, which means technically you're an adult, don't you think it's time you moved on from primitive constructs such as popularity?" Dustin asked, matter-of-factly.

"Oh, 'primitive constructs'. That some stupid shit you learned at Camp... Know... Nothing?" Steve asked.

"Camp Know Where, actually. And no, it's shit I learned from life." Dustin corrected in a dull voice.

"Hm." Steve mocked.

"Instead of dating someone who you think is gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around? Like me and y/n." Dustin continued, adding me into the conversation.

"Oh, y/n. Yeah, you mean 'hotter than Phoebe Cates.' Yeah, that y/n." Steve said, Dustin shooting him a look.

"You said that about me?" I asked, elbowing Dustin's side lightly, making him blush a deep red.

"And, uh, let's think about how exactly did you score this beautiful girlfriend?" Steve asked, ignoring us and scratching his head in mock thought. "Oh yeah. With my advice. Because that's how this works, Henderson. I give you the advice, you follow through. Not the other way around, alright, Pea-brain?"

Steve huffed and turned back to searching, his eyes darting around the judgemental mob of teenagers and jazzercise moms.

Dustin shot Steve a tired look and rolled his eyes, going back to what he was doing.

Word count: 930