steve harrington imagines

come inside. i don't want you to get sick. (part 1)

prompt: #98, "come inside. i don't want you to get sick."

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Steve Harrington has been your across-the-street neighbour since you had moved to Hawkins, Indiana, in the fourth grade. You were never really close with him, but you two were friends. He was the popular boy at school, captain of the basketball team, King Steve, you were on the cheerleading team, so you were pretty much destined to be friends of some sort, whether there be benefits or not. But ever since high school hit and hormones became a known fact, you had had this little tiny spark in your heart saved for one boy, and one boy only. But this only became apparent to you one gloomy Thursday night.

"You want a ride home?" Theresa asked as you walked down the sidewalk. She followed closely with her car. You shook your head politely, brushing her off. "Are you sure, Y/N."

"Positive. Thank you, though."

"No problem. I'll see you tomorrow," she waved off as Theresa took off down the street and out of the parking lot. You hated asking for rides or accepting the offer, but especially from Theresa. She was a great gal, but you would never ultimately find out just how she passed her driver's test first try. Maybe it was her breasts. It had to be.

Quickly, you walked down the sidewalk of the damp street, humming the current song that had been stuck in your head all day, a classic Cyndi Lauper tune, Time After Time. Your younger sister had been practicing for her slow dance tomorrow night in her room at night. She didn't realize how loud her stereo could go, though, seeing as it kept you up for nearly half the night the night before.

By the time you had reached your street, it was pouring rain and you had only a windbreaker on. Sighing, you grudges through the water that had pooled down the sides of the street as you approached your house, only to realize that you had left your key at school in your locker.

"Just my luck," you grunted, setting your bag down on the steps and sitting beside it. The current time was 4:53, and your parents got home at 6 from work. You were not about to wait an hour just to get inside your house.

Knock knock knock.

You banged your knuckles against the door of the house across the street from you. A familiar face opened the door, a warm smile on her face. "Hi, Mrs. Harrington."

"Y/N, what can I do for you this evening?" She greeted.

"Is Steve around?"

"I think so," she said, turning back. "Steven! Come downstairs!"

"What, mom?" you heard a familiar voice stomping down the stairs. His hair was almost as soaked as yours as he had just a towel wrapped around his waist. "Oh, Y/N. I didn't know we had company."

His mother soon left as he opened the door wider. "Come inside. I don't want you to get sick."

Awkwardly, you stepped inside the large house as Steve shut the door behind you. "And I'm the one that was just out in that rain for nearly a half hour?" you joked, referring to his hair as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit of his since the sixth grade.

"Yeah, no kidding. Speaking of which, why?" he asked.

"I had cheer."

"And you walked home because you don't have your license," he teased and you rolled your eyes. He would always pick on you about it until you got it.

"Yes, that too. Anyway, I left my key at school so I can't get in my house," you laughed, biting your lip and looking down at your soaked runners.

"Job well done."

"Shut up."

"Do you need a lift back to school?"

"That would be very helpful," you said, glancing down the hallway to the analog clock. "Though the school closes in three minutes and about twenty six seconds, so..."

"And it takes about four minutes and twenty two seconds to get there, so..."

"Yeah."

"You can probably stay here for a bit until your parents get home," he offered, completely forgetting that he was in a towel, and only a towel.

"Um, okay. Sure. If that's not too much of a problem or hassle."

"No it's totally fine. Right mom?"

"Yep!" the lady called from the other room. You smiled slightly at the boy.

"Thank you," you smiled.

"No problem."