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5:45 a.m. Steve grunted in annoyance and stifled a yawn as he checked the time on the clock hanging on the wall of the terminal. The sound of people talking, suitcase wheels rolling against the floor, and the occasional voice of a flight attendant informing passengers of flight updates. Too much noise for Steve's sleep-deprived brain. Why did he agree to accompany Jonathan on this trip? Did he regret his choice? Ah, hell no! Steve would agree to accompany Jonathan to Asia, to New Zealand, to hell, and even to the worst place of all—Mrs. Click's math class. But did they have to take a flight so early in the morning? He yawns again and buries his face in Jonathan's shoulder, mumbling something inaudible, definitely a complaint.
Jonathan, who was reading a comic book he borrowed from Will, glanced at his boyfriend through the corner of his eyes and scoffed softly. Steve is such a grumpy baby during the mornings, a stark contrast to Jonathan, who has little problem waking up early.
"You're going to be alright, you baby," Jonathan pats Steve's hair with his hand, closing the comic and setting it down on the vacant chair next to him, where their bags are. "You can take a nice nap on the flight."
"Sleepin' on the plane sucks." Steve mumbles, nuzzling his face against the crook of Jonathan's neck, yawning for the millionth time. "I wanna sleep forever and ever and ever and—"
"Okay, okay, I got the message, Steve." Jonathan chuckles softly at Steve's childlike petulance and plants a kiss on his boyfriend's brown hair, soft like a poodle's fur. "You'll get a chance to sleep when we get to the hotel."
"Hmm... Hotel." Steve smiles, imagining a cozy hotel room, a warm bed, fluffy pillows, and cuddling with Jonathan. Ah, the definition of paradise.
Jonathan rolls his eyes at Steve's sleepy mumbles and moves his shoulder, jolting Steve awake, who whines in response to having his cuddly resting place disturbed and gestures for his boyfriend to help him with their bags as the voice of a flight attendant echoes throes the terminal.
"Attention, passengers from flight 1138 to Coastal Carolina Regional Airport, boarding at gate 5-B begins in five minutes."
Steve groans at hearing the woman's voice, "I hate flying."
"Crybaby." Jonathan rolls his eyes, holding their flight tickets in his hand.
"I'm your crybaby, baby." Steve retorts, attempting a smirk at Jonathan, but the best he got was a sleepy grin, which Jonathan just scoffed in response and continued walking.
Once aboard the plane, Steve immediately asked a flight attendant for a blanket. He wrapped himself like a burrito, kicked off his shoes, and snuggled closer to Jonathan, burying his face in the crook of Jonathan's neck again, mumbling, "Night," and falling asleep soon after. Jonathan smiled softly at his boyfriend, sleeping like a baby, and kissed Steve's cheek before grabbing the comic again to finish reading.
He sighed softly and glanced out the window as the plane soared through the bright blue skies, passing by white, fluffy clouds. Jonathan's not too fond of flying either, and the prospect of being trapped inside this flying tuna can for the next 2 hours is tiresome in itself. He figures it would be best to follow Steve's actions and get some sleep as well.
Jonathan uses his jacket as a makeshift blanket—he didn't want to bother the flight crew by asking for a mere blanket—kicked off his shoes and rested his cheek against the top of Steve's head, yawning softly and closing his eyes, hearing only the rumbling noise of the jet turbines and Steve's light snores.
A long-ass flight, an even longer-ass bus ride, and now a nauseating-ass ferry trip. Ugh, Steve's starting to regret his decision to follow Jonathan everywhere like a little puppy. He is tired, sore, and irritated, with a headache and nausea—despite the nausea medicine Jonathan gave him before boarding the boat. Steve's just not used to being tossed and turned on a damn boat in the middle of the ocean. He hates boat rides.
Jonathan is not a fan of boats either, but they can't exactly parachute to their destination, and the ferry is a necessary evil.
Besides, it's not a long trip anyway. It's just—
"1 HOUR AND 30 MINUTES?!" Steve's eyes widen as Jonathan informs him of the ferry trip duration. He groans in annoyance and leans his forehead against the boat's guardrail. The cool ocean breeze brushes against his skin as the boat glazes through the deep blue Atlantic Ocean. "I'm going to throw myself into the ocean and let the Kraken eat me. 1 hour and 30 minutes... On the Titanic..."
"Stop being so dramatic, Steve." Jonathan rolls his eyes. He takes a sip from the water bottle he bought at the airport. The liquid is warm, but it doesn't do much to alleviate Jonathan's dry throat. He, too, is tired and annoyed from the trip. Flight trip, bus trip, and now a boat trip. Air, land, and sea. "We still have about 45 minutes before reaching the island."
"Oh, great." The other boy rolls his eyes and sends Jonathan a tired, annoyed glare. "45 minutes till we reach Treasure Island. Horray."
"Baby."
"Yeah?"
"No, Steve." Jonathan rolled his eyes. "I'm not pet-naming you. I'm offending you. I'm calling you a baby."
"Hey!" Steve's already childish enough pout deepens even more, and he frowns, crossing his arms and hmphing at Jonathan, turning away from him. "Rude. I don't like you anymore. You're sleeping on the couch for the next two weeks."
"Oh, Steve." Jonathan chuckles softly and approaches his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around the teenager's waist and resting his chin on Steve's shoulder. He loves it when Steve acts like a little petulant kid. It's adorable, and it reminds him of Will when he was a little 6-year-old who threatened to throw a tantrum whenever Jonathan would order him to bed because it was past his bedtime. "We both know that if one of us were to sleep on the couch... It wouldn't be me."
Steve scoffs and mumbles something incoherent under his breath. As much as Steve would hate to admit, it is true. On the rare times they fought while sleeping in each other's house, Steve always ended up sleeping on the couch.
"You're so annoying, Byers. I hate you so much. I hope you get sunburnt."
"Love you, too, babe." Jonathan doesn't take offense to Steve's words and kisses his cheek, making the taller boy hmph as his cheeks turn slightly pink from the affectionate gesture. God, Steve both hated and loved the feeling of Jonathan's soft lips against his skin. It always makes him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Damn, Jonathan Byers and those pretty little lips of his and his angelical kisses.
"Attention, Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We'll be arriving at our destination in about 25 minutes. If you head to the bow, you can already see Kildare Island on the horizon."
Jonathan stands on his tip-toes to glance past Steve's shoulder. In the distance, he sees the body of land amidst the blue horizon. Kildare.
"This trip better be worth it, Jonathan."
"Relax, Steve. You're gonna love it. And I'm sure you're gonna like my cousin as well."
"Yeah, yeah," Steve grunts slightly, briefly looking past his shoulder to gaze at his boyfriend's beautiful brown eyes. Steve will not admit it at the moment, but he is curious to meet this cousin of Jonathan. "But, like, couldn't your cousin live somewhere closer to Hawkins? Or, like, Minnesota?"
"He's not the kind of guy to live in Minnesota, Steve." Jonathan rolls his eyes good-naturedly and chuckles, squeezing Steve's waist gently. "He doesn't like the cold. Besides, his mom wanted him to be as far away from Lonnie as possible."
"Talk about a grudge." Steve snorts. Jonathan told him that his aunt, Lonnie's sister, was the polar opposite of that scumbag and that she refused to be in the same city, state, or even regional territory as Lonnie. "She did come as far as she could, hm?"
"Hm." Jonathan hums as he buries his face in Steve's shoulder, eyes still locked on the island, which is getting closer and closer by the minute. "As far as the Outer Banks."
"I still cannot believe you have a cousin, dude," JJ repeats for the thousandth time as he looks at his best friend with an annoyed-esque look. He's not annoyed at all, but JJ finds pleasure in annoying his friends from time to time. "We've been friends for, like, a lot! And you never told me you had a cousin who lives in... What was the place again? Eagleville?"
"Hawkins, JJ." John B. corrects him, rolling his eyes and gripping the steering wheel of his old VW Van. He knows JJ is just messing with him and trying to get a rise out of him, and it's working. John B. loves JJ with all his heart, but sometimes, he wants to hold his head under the water until the bubbles stop coming.
" Right . Hawkins." JJ repeats the name and emphasizes the 'i' on 'right' before taking a sip from his Coke and increasing the volume on the radio. "Hawkins, Ohio."
"Indiana."
"Oh, because that's so much better." JJ rolls his eyes before leaning closer to his friend, bumping his shoulder against John B.'s and stealing his friend's cap, ignoring the other teenager's annoyed "Hey!" of protest. "Ohio, Indiana, Montana, Denmark. It's all the same, bud."
"It literally isn't."
"Oh, pardon me, Mr. John B., the master geographer!" JJ sticks his tongue out at his friend.
"Just settle down, man." John B. sends his friend a quick, annoyed glare through the corner of his eye as he takes a turn on the street, approaching the ferry dock. "I don't want you going all... JJ on my cousin, alright?"
"A'right. A'right." The blonde teen raises his hands in mock surrender, smirking at John B. "No JJ-ing today."
"Or for the next two weeks." John B. rolls his eyes.
"Two weeks—?!"
"We're here." John B. parks the van and turns off the engine, hopping off the driver's seat as JJ grumbles and follows after him.
There aren't many people at the docks waiting for the ferry, as no one expects someone to come to Kildare of all places. Besides the two teens, there's an elderly couple, a group of fishermen, a lone woman, and a family of three.
"We should have made a sign for your cousin," JJ replies as he empties his can of soda and throws it at a nearby trash can. "Like, a big sign, with a big heart, and the sayings, 'Welcome, cousin—'"
"JONATHAN!" John B. calls excitedly, cutting JJ off and waving his hand in the air as Jonathan and Steve disembark from the boat. Jonathan smiles as he hears John B. calling him and makes a beeline towards the taller teen, who wraps his arms around him once they're within reach.
"John!" Jonathan smiles and chuckles happily as his cousin hugs him tightly. Jonathan is shorter than John B. by a good 12 centimeters, so he has to stand on his tip-toes to hug his cousin. "It's so good to see you! And you even showered, just for me!"
John B. scoffs good-naturedly and flicks Jonathan's ear in response to his teasing, breaking apart from their hug, "Hey, for your information, I shower every day , okay?"
"That's not how I remember it," Jonathan smirks in response, and John B. rolls his eyes.
"A guy skips a shower one day when he's 8, and no one forgets that."
JJ watches their interaction with a raised eyebrow, his gaze going from Jonathan to John B.
"This dude is your cousin?" He asks, scanning Jonathan from head to toe. "You guys don't look alike. At all."
John B. rolls his eyes at JJ's comment, "Duh, of course not, smartass. We're cousins. Not twins."
"Uh-huh. And who's Lurch over there?"
"Who are you calling Lurch, blondie?!" Steve frowns, irritated at the name-calling from JJ.
"You."
"HEY—"
"Steve." Jonathan sends him a scolding glare, silently telling him to behave. Steve grumbles under his breath and crosses his arms, mumbling something about it, 'not being fair.' John B. does the same to JJ, glaring at him to behave, to which JJ responds with a smirk and a wink. Jonathan rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to John B, "This is Steve. He's my boyfriend."
"Ah. So this is the boyfriend Aunt Joyce told me in her last letter, huh?" He smiles and nods, mentally committing Steve's appearance to memory before extending his hand towards him. "Nice to meet you, Steve. I'm John. My friends call me John B."
"John B.?" Steve raises an eyebrow as he shakes John B.'s hand, glancing from him to Jonathan. "Did your family run out of names or something?"
"Huh?" John B. and Jonathan say in unison, both arching an eyebrow and cocking their heads in confusion.
"I mean. You're John B., and you're... Jon B." He points at the two boys.
"DUDE!" JJ smiles and laughs like an easily impressionable kid who just witnessed the cheapest of magic tricks at a local carnival. To him, Steve said the most ingenious thing in the history of Western civilization. "John B. and Jon B.! HA! You're a genius, Lurch!"
"STOP CALLING ME THAT!"
"Steve..."
"JJ..."
The two boys roll their eyes at their antics, pinching the bridge of their noses in slight annoyance mixed with a small hint of amusement. It's going to be an eventful two-week vacation.
Jonathan takes a deep breath and approaches, sending him a small, polite smile, "You must be JJ. I'm Jonathan. Jonathan Byers."
"Nice to meet ya, John B. 2.0!"
"Yeah, no. Don't call me that."
"So, Byers, right?" JJ smirks, turning to his friend. "That's what the 'B' in John B. stands for?"
"What did you think it meant, dude?" John B. asks, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes as JJ shrugs, adjusting the cap he previously took from his friend.
"I dunno, man. Boris. Bob. Bogota. Bosnia-Herzegovina..."
"What? Dude, JJ—"
"And what does JJ stand for?" Steve chimes into the conversion.
"Stands for Jackson."
"And the second 'J'?"
"Huh?"
"There's two 'J's.' One is for Jackson. And the second one?"
"For Jackson!" JJ insists.
"So your name is, what? Jackson-Jackson?"
"What?! No!" JJ shakes his head and frowns. "It's just Jackson."
"So why is it JJ and not... J?"
"Because 'J' is too boring, man!"
John B. and Jonathan roll their eyes, and John B. wraps his arm around his cousin's waist and gestures for him to follow.
"They're going to stay like this for a while. C'mon."
Jonathan nods and grabs his belongings, accompanying his cousin to the parking lot, leaving Steve and JJ behind, bickering like two little bratty kids. Steve is the first to notice the Byers walking away from him and quickly scrambles to go after his boyfriend, JJ following suit.
"Hey, Jonathan! Wait for me!"
"Oi, John B.! Don't leave me behind, you betrayer!"
The four teens enter the parking lot, and John B. guides the group to his parked VW van, opening the back door and gesturing for Jonathan to throw his bags inside. JJ calls shotgun and hops into the passenger's seat. Steve stands a few feet back, eyeing the rusty old vehicle with a raised eyebrow. The old van is not the most pleasant view. Its brown and white paint is chipped off due to its age, one of the back windows has a small crack, and there are a few surfboards on the roof racks.
"They ran out of limos at the rental place, huh?" He asks sarcastically while handing his bags to John B., who's helping Jonathan load the bags into the car.
Jonathan sends his boyfriend a glare, telling him to mind his smart mouth, but John B. merely chuckles in response, not taking Steve's sarcasm to heart. It's not like he's not used to people commenting on the van's appearance, anyway.
"Hey, don't let your eyes fool you, dude. The Twinkie's a tough girl."
"The what?!" Steve's eyebrows disappear beneath his hairline as he hears the vehicle's nickname. "Twinkie? Like... Like twink? Gay twink—?"
"What?! No!" John B.'s eyes widen so much they almost gouge out of their sockets, and his cheeks blush slightly. "N-no, man! It's Twinkie from the snack cake brand! You know, Twinkies!"
"Oh." Steve's mouth makes an 'o' shape, and he nods slowly. That makes sense, too.
JJ listened to their exchange and snorted. He pokes his head through the window and smirks at his friend, "Told ya to pick another name, dude."
"S-shut up, JJ!" John B. frowns at his friend and averts his eyes, feeling his cheeks getting warmer. He closes the back door as Steve and Jonathan hop into the van and open the driver's door.
"Come on, twink driver! Step on the gas— OW!"
"Shut. Up. JJ!" John B. growls at him from under his breath and slaps his forearm. He takes his cap from JJ, turns on the engine, and drives away.
Kildare has a picturesque sight, a complete 180 from Hawkins. Whereas Steve and Jonathan's hometown is grey, dull, and boring, Kildare is bright, sunny, and warm. They pass by a plaque next to the road that says, "Welcome to the Outer Banks - Paradise on Earth!"
Steve scoffs softly at the sign and leans closer to Jonathan, who's taking pictures of some yachts docked by the coast, "Paradise on Earth. Aren't they a little full of themselves in here?"
"Then I guess you'll feel right at home in here, Steve."
"Hey, I'm not full of myself, Jon!" That was a lie. And Steve knew it. "Well, not that full, at least."
"One time, you literally told me your car was like Apollo's chariot." Jonathan rolls his eyes at the memory, and Steve scoffs, crossing his arms.
"So?"
"So," Jonathan repeats, turning to face his boyfriend with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "I hardly think Apollo's chariot would run out of gas on a Monday morning before school. Twice just last month."
Steve scoffs again and rolls his eyes, turning to face the opposite direction. He hates how Jonathan wins 99% of their arguments. "Shut up, Byers."
John B. glances back at the couple through the rear mirrors and smiles, hearing their banter. He clears his throat, getting their attention.
"So, Jonathan, Aunt Joyce said you guys would be staying at a hotel, right?"
"Yep, that's right. We booked a nice hotel. With breakfast included and everything else."
JJ whispers and mutters, "Fancy shit, eh?"
"You sure you guys don't want to stay home? There's extra room at the Chateau."
"Chateau?" That got Steve's curiosity, and he leaned forward on his seat, sticking his head through the front seats. "You live in a Chateau?"
"Yep, I do, man." John B. puffs his chest and smirks. "It's a nice house, complete with a hot tub in the backyard—"
"That I bought!" JJ chimes in.
"—A surf shack, boat deck, and some neat fairy lights that we hang out on the trees."
"Dude, that's so cool!" Steve's grin broadens at John B.'s description of his living place. To Steve, what John B. described was a Royal Palace. "Oh, man, I'm dropping everything at Hawkins to come live with you!"
John B. laughs at Steve's excitement while Jonathan shakes his head, knowing John B.'s house is not as cool as Steve thinks.
"You guys have the address of the hotel?"
"Yep, I have it in here." Jonathan grabs his backpack and finds the folder where their documents and other important papers are. "It's, uh... 132 Kingsford Street, Figure 8."
"Figure 8?!" Both John B. and JJ say in sync. John B. glances at the two teens in the backseat through the rear mirror while JJ turns around in his seat with arched eyebrows.
"Oh, great," Steve rolls his eyes and throws his arms up. "It's a haunted neighbor, isn't it? Nice job, Jonathan!"
"No, no, no, no. It's not haunted." John B. corrects Steve as JJ chimes in, "It's just that, well, Figure 8 is where posh, nose upturned, classy, and spoiled people live here. And lemme tell you, they ain't pleasant people. Well, not all of them, at least. There are a few rare exceptions."
"Steve wouldn't be able to handle The Cut, John," Jonathan says as he leans forward to speak with his cousin, handing the hotel's address to JJ, who starts giving John B. the directions.
"What's a cut?" Steve asks with a raised eyebrow, looking between Jonathan and John B.
"It's where the poor, working class of Kildare lives, dude-o," JJ responds, glancing back at Steve. "In other words, it's where we live."
"Ah." Steve nods slowly at the information. "But wait. What about your Chateau? It's also in this Cut place?"
"Yep."
"But—"
"Steve." Jonathan cuts him off, placing a hand on Steve's hand. "Honey, John doesn't live in an actual chateau. It's just a house by the beach."
"Oh."
JJ snorts as he sees the slight disappointment on Steve's face and shakes his head, "Sorry if we fooled ya, Stevie. But, hey, you're gonna love The Chateau still. Trust me!"
"And we need to gather the Pogues, too, man!"
"Pogues?" Steve raised an eyebrow again. "What's a Pogue? Is it, like, a breed of dog or something?"
John B. and JJ laugh at Steve's confusion. They're gonna love messing with this guy for the next two weeks.
"We are the Pogues, man. It's our gang, our friends, our secret society." JJ replies with a smirk. "You're gonna love 'em! I promise."
John B. parks the Twinkie in front of the hotel and helps Jonathan and Steve unload their bags from the van.
"Thanks again for the ride, John."
"No problem, Jon!"
Steve and JJ snort at the John-Jon exchange, finding it the most amusing thing in the world. John B. closed the back door of the van and was about to say something when two annoying voices cut through the air, like two mocking spirits.
"Fancy seeing ya around here, Pogue rats!"
Topper laughed at Rafe's mocking of the Pogues as he stopped his jeep in front of the four teenagers, eyeing the two strangers up and down and smirking, "Look at that. They have recruits now."
"Fresh meat."
"Yeah, you must be dying to have someone's meat shoved down your throat, right, Rafe?!" JJ shoots back, flipping Rafe off and angering the other teenager, who was about to open the jeep's door and get out to beat JJ, but Topper stops him.
"Hey, hey, don't lose your head over Cut trash, Rafe. He's not worth it." Rafe huffs but calms down, and Topper glances back at the four and flips them off before driving away.
Steve follows the jeep, who turns around a corner, an eyebrow raised, "Friends of yours?"
"Kooks."
"Cocks?" Steve's eyebrow raises even more. JJ snorts at Steve's confusion.
"Fitting. But no. Kooks . They're the rich bastards from Figure 8. Spoiled little brats who can't even spell 'labor' correctly without the need of three advisors, two maids, and a chauffeur."
Steve hums at the description while Jonathan chuckles, "So, they're like the Outer Banks version of Tommy and Carol."
"Who?"
"Two rich dumbasses from Hawkins." Jonathan clarifies as Steve chimes in, rolling his eyes, "And put dumb in it. They're probably even worse than these two jerks."
"No way!" John B.'s eyes widen at that. The prospect of someone being worse than Rafe The Jerk Cameron and Topper The Underdeveloped Brain Thornton is unimaginable to him. "Dude, there's no way! You're exaggerating!"
JJ nods, agreeing with his friend. Topper and Rafe have been two annoying vultures in their lives since, well, ever!
"Yeah, dude, there's no way someone can be worst than those two fuckers! Topper got me fired from working at the Country Club because he kept bugging me all day until I snapped and threw a glass of champagne at his face!"
Jonathan snorts at JJ's story, "I can relate to that. I got fired from working at the town's newspaper because of an annoying person as well."
"Sorry to hear about that, man." John B. rubs his cousin's back sympathetically. He knows that story all too well because of a letter Jonathan sent him detailing the event. He remembers feeling Jonathan's sadness and annoyance just by reading his words. How happy he was when he got the job, and how depressed he felt after being fired.
"Man, I hate the rich!" JJ tsks and crosses his arms, a scowl forming on his face. "We should eat them and share their fortunes with the rest of the world!"
"Down with the oligarchs!" Steve agrees with JJ and raises his fist in the air as the blonde teenager does the same.
John B. snorts at their antics and shakes his head, "Okay, okay, let's save the revolution for later, guys." He turns to Jonathan and squeezes his shoulder. "You guys go rest for a while. I'll come pick you up later so we can have the full OBX experience!"
Jonathan smiles and nods, silently thanking John B. before gesturing for Steve to follow him to the hotel, which Steve eagerly did. He's dying for a warm bath and a cozy bed—and some Jonathan cuddling, of course.
"Why can't we eat here?" Steve asks with a pout as he packs his backpack for the day. "Aren't the meals included?"
"Yes, but that doesn't mean we're going to live here, Steve," Jonathan explains as he checks and rechecks his packed stuff—sunscreen, towels, sunglasses, etc. "Besides, John said he wants us to have the full OBX experience, remember? He insisted on making us lunch."
"I just hope it's not something gross, like... I dunno, alligator meat or something."
"Alligator?" Jonathan snorted at his boyfriend's words and shook his head. "Relax, babe. It's definitely not alligators. It'll be fish, at most."
Steve shrugs. Okay, it's not that bad. Fish is good. He likes fish. What could go wrong, right?
John B. is waiting for them in front of the hotel, leaning against the Twinkie and sipping on a can of soda. He smiles when Jonathan and Steve exit the small building and gestures for them to get inside. Jonathan sits next to him on the passenger's seat, and Steve is in the backseat—he's a bit sad Jonathan's not sitting next to him as usual.
As they drive through the roads of Kildare, Steve glances around, checking the decorated interior of the VW. There are several sticks around the interior—McKelvin's Surf Shop, Eat the Rich (this one is definitely JJ's doing), a peace sign, Live Love Surf, OBX stickers, and many more, including a The Clash sticker. Yeah, this is Jonathan's cousin, alright. Steve gets so distracted by the colorful interior of the van he barely notices they've reached John B.'s house.
"Hey, Steve," Jonathan calls him, turning back to place a hand on his boyfriend's knee. "We're here."
The trio hops off the vehicle, and Steve eyes John B.'s house, "Yeah, no offense, man, but this ain't a Chateau. Not in a million years."
John B. chuckles and puts a hand on Steve's shoulder, "Nope. It isn't, but it's my Palace, alright. Come on, the guys are here, and they're dying to meet you all!"
He gestures for Jonathan and Steve to follow him into the large backyard. The place fits John B. and JJ's earlier description but doesn't match Steve's previously grandiose imagination. Granted, he thought John B. lived in an actual chateau. But hey, it's a cool place nonetheless. I mean, who has a hot tub, a surf shack, and a boat dock in their backyard? Not many people, and definitely no one in Hawkins.
"John B.! The other Jon B.! Lurch!" JJ jumps from the hot tub, smiling and pointing at the approaching trio. John B. and Jonathan chuckle, but Steve grunts at the nickname.
The other teens in the backyard all turn to glance at the trio as JJ announces their arrival, and they go to greet them.
"Guys, this is my cousin Jonathan and his boyfriend Steve!" John B. introduced the two with a big smile. "And these are the Pogues!"
Steve snorts at hearing the name again, finding it funny, "Pogues, Kooks, Cut, Figure 8, Twinkie. You guys are pretty creative around here, huh?"
The Pogues chuckle at his comment while Jonathan rolls his eyes slightly. One day, Steve's big mouth will get him in trouble.
One of the Pogues, the only guy besides JJ and John B., steps forward and offers a hand for Steve to shake, "Hey, I'm Pope."
"Yeah, nice try, dude." Steve rolls his eyes but shakes the guy's hand regardless. After being tricked into thinking John B. lives in a chateau, Steve's not going to let them fool him twice. "I've seen the new Pope, and you're not him."
Pope snorts at Steve's comment and shakes his head, "No, no, no. That's my actual name. Pope. Pope Heyward."
"Really?" Steve raises an eyebrow and tilts his head slightly to the left. Yeah, these people are creative with names, alright. "Like, Pope-Pope? For real? There's no catch at all? Like, your name is Pope, but you're actually Muslim—"
"Please, stop talking!" Jonathan intervenes, covering Steve's mouth with his hand and glaring at his boyfriend before turning to Pope with an apologetic look. "Sorry, he speaks without thinking most of the time."
"Then he'll get along with JJ just fine."
"Hey! I heard that, Pope!" JJ protests as he gets off the tub—and almost trips and falls face-first on the ground.
The other teens, three girls, chuckle and roll their eyes before introducing themselves to Steve and Jonathan.
"I'm Sarah."
"Kiara."
"Cleo."
"Nice to meet you all," Jonathan nods and smiles at the girls. Steve follows suit and nods, not wanting to say anything stupid after that icy glare he got from Jonathan.
"So, Jonathan said you insisted on making us lunch, John B.?"
"Oh, yeah, we should get ready for lunch!" John B. smiled and gestured for the Pogues to follow him. "To the HMS Pogue?"
"HM-What-Who?"
"I officially regret coming with you to this place," Steve grunts and sends Jonathan a glare as he holds a fishing rod in his hand, JJ adding bait to it—a disgusting worm. Ugh, Steve wants to puke.
"Hey, chin up, man!" John B. says as he hands Jonathan a fishing rod. "Not everyone has the chance of fishing aboard the world-famous HMS Pogue!"
Steve merely glares at John B.'s over-enthusiastic mood and rolls his eyes, preparing to cast his rod into the sea.
"Careful not to fish your own pants, Harrington!" JJ teases. Steve sighs deeply but ignores JJ's antics, casting the hook into the water and sitting down next to Jonathan.
"I didn't know I had to fish lunch," He grumbles under his breath as Jonathan chuckles softly and kisses Steve's cheek to soothe his annoyance—it works a little.
"Hey, this is the full OBX experience, man!" Pope chimes. He's the one piloting the boat. The five men are on fishing duty while the girls stay back at the Chateau to cook the rest of the food using some of the ingredients Kie had in her garden and some she stole from her parents's restaurant. They're not going to miss a pack of rice or two. Or three.
"What are we fishing, anyway?" Steve asks, eyeing John B. and JJ as they cast their rods.
"Welp, there's lots of Mackerel in here."
"Also, some Drum."
"And Wahoo."
"Mahi-Mahi, too!" Pope chimes.
"Don't know why I asked. I don't know any of these fishes." Steve mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. Jonathan chuckles and caresses his boyfriend's hair, gently brushing a strand of Steve's locks off his face. "Fish is fish, Steve. Don't think too much about it."
"Fair point." Steve shrugs and leans closer to Jonathan's touch. He loves it when Jonathan caresses his hair like this. Feeling Jonathan's gentle touch, his warm hand. It's so soothing. So peaceful. So calming.
"Oi, this ain't no lover's boat, you guys!"
"JJ!"
Until JJ decides to open his smart mouth to ruin everything. As usual. John B. chastises his friend and slaps his arm, glaring at him, though the blonde boy seems unfazed by it, merely smirking and laughing.
Pope rolls his eyes. He's used to JJ's mannerisms, but that doesn't make his friend any less annoying—sometimes in an amusing way, other times making you want to throw him overboard with an anchor tied to his foot. "Why don't we make a bet? Whoever catches the biggest fish wins three dollars from the others. Deal?"
"Oh, you bet!" Steve jumps from his seat, grabbing his fishing rod. His competitive spirit flared up due to Pope's bet. John B. and JJ exchange a smirk and nod to each other. Oh, they're going to grab the bigger fish, alright. They're not losing to tourists.
Jonathan rolls his eyes at that and leans against his seat, turning to Pope, "Why did you have to propose that stupid bet?"
"Cuz it's fun," Pope replies with a shrug as he offers Jonathan a soda from the cooler, which Jonathan accepts, opening it and taking a sip from the cool, sugary beverage.
"Those three are going to end up falling into the water, that's for sure."
"And that would be funny as hell!" Pope laughs at Jonathan's comment. He's seen John B. and JJ fall into the water many times before, and it gets funnier every time.
5 Minutes pass. Nothing.
10 Minutes pass. Still nothing.
15 Minutes pass. Steve fishes an old boot.
20 Minutes pass. JJ tangles his line on John B.'s.
25 Minutes pass. Jonathan fishes a small-sized Mahi-Mahi.
30 Minutes pass. Pope fished three decent-sized Wahoos.
35 Minutes pass. Steve fished a big Spanish Mackerel and almost dropped it in the water.
40 Minutes pass. JJ drops his rod in the water but manages to catch it before it sinks too deep.
45 Minutes pass. Jonathan's line starts wobbling hard. He jumps from his seat and grabs the rod in his hands, feeling the fish on the other end of the line tugging. It's a fighter, alright.
"Shit." He curses, reeling the line and pulling the rod to him.
"Oh, it's a big one!" John B. comments with an excited grin.
"Get, babe! Show the fish who's the boss!"
"Pull, Jon B.! Pull!"
"You can do it, Jonathan!"
Jonathan bites his lower lips, grunting and pulling the line. He can feel the fish struggling more as Jonathan reels the line until its tail starts popping out of the water.
"Damn, it's a big one, alright!"
"Bro's fishing Fishzilla!"
"Almost... There..." Jonathan gives one final hard pull and reels the line back, lifting the fish out of the water. It's a Red Drum, a big one.
"Hmm, big and juicy, just how Daddy likes it." Everyone rolls their eyes at JJ's gross comment. The guy knows how to ruin a mood.
John B. gets the fish from his cousin, and Jonathan crosses his arms, smirking at the other guys, who are all bar Pope, with relatively sour moods at losing the bet.
"Pay up, guys."
"Ugh!" They groan but relent, giving Jonathan 3 dollars each.
"Here, because I like you, I'm giving you extra money."
"Wow, thanks, Steve." Jonathan rolls his eyes at the money Steve gives him. "3 dollars and 50 cents. Amazing."
"You're welcome, babe." Steve turns to the fish they caught. "Now, how do we make this crap edible?"
"Oh, you'll see." JJ smirks.
Steve did not want to see it. He did not like seeing the guys cleaning the fish. Not a pleasant sight. He shivers at the memory of seeing JJ scaling the fish and John B. and Pope doing all the other stuff that made Steve's stomach churn.
"Why did you have to go there and see it, Steve?" Jonathan asks as he sits next to Steve on the Chateau's porch, rubbing his back as Steve takes a sip from a glass of water.
"I got curious, man," Steve mumbles with a shrug. "JJ said I would like to see it."
"Steve, by this point, you should know not to trust JJ." Jonathan chuckles and shakes his head, caressing his boyfriend's hair.
"Point taken." Steve mumbles and leans closer to Jonathan, resting his head on Jonathan's shoulder.
The door creaks open, and Sarah steps out onto the porch, smiling at the couple, "Hey guys. Lunch is ready."
"I'm eating just salad," Steve mumbles as he raises to his feet, and Jonathan chuckles, rolling his eyes affectionately, knowing Steve would most likely devour a whale shark since they haven't eaten properly since leaving Hawkins.
The Pogues, plus Steve and Jonathan, sit at a table in the backyard, and as Jonathan predicted, Steve seems to have forgotten the disgusting process of cleaning the fish as he shoves a forkful of food into his mouth the second there's food in his plate.
"Damn, this is delicious!" He says, mouth full of food.
Jonathan sighs and shakes his head, turning to John B., "Sorry, he has the etiquette of a Tyrannosaurus."
"Hey, it's alright, man."
"Yeah, Jon B.! Don't fret, dude!" JJ replies, his mouth full of food as well. John B. sighs and rolls his at JJ's lack of manners, "As you can see. I'm used to it."
"So," Steve swallows the food and shoves more immediately after. "What are we doing later?"
John B. smiles and leans on the table, resting his chin on his palm. "Oh, the ultimate OBX experience, Steve."
"Oh? And what would that be?"
"Surfing!" John B. jumps from the Twinkie and grabs the surfboards strapped on the van's roof, JJ helping him and Pope assisting the girls and carrying their bags. "You remember how to surf, right, Jonathan?"
"You surf?" Steve's eyes widen, and he turns to look at his boyfriend, trying to imagine Jonathan 'I'm too Shy to Talk to the Manager' Byers surfing.
"I know how to stand on a board." Jonathan corrects him, hugging himself in a sign of slight discomfort. Jonathan is not a big fan of swimming in the ocean and going to the beach. He hates sand. It's rough and coarse, and it gets everywhere. He hates it. Steve, on the other hand, is pretty much a seagull because he loves the beach! Steve loves every outdoor activity, and he's excited to learn how to surf.
They set up a nice spot on the beach, Kiara and Sarah setting up a pair of parasols. Steve is the first one to strip, taking off his shirt and turning around for Jonathan to apply sunscreen on him. JJ wolf whistles as his eyes roam Steve's torso, and he can't keep his mouth shut, "Damn, Harrington. Lookin' good, eh? But hey, for your information, they've already invented waxing."
"Shut up, Maybank!" Steve shoots him an annoyed glare, and JJ raises his hand in mock surrender.
"Hey, hey, calm down, Harrington. I didn't mean any—" JJ cuts himself off. His eyes widen, and his mouth opens, forming an 'o'. All the Pogues roll their eyes. They know that look. It's JJ's signature 'I just realized something stupid' look. "Dude! Harrington! Harri ngton! Hair -ngton! HA! It makes so much sense now!"
"I swear to God, Maybank, I will murder you!" Steve starts chasing after JJ, who yelps playfully and runs into the water, Steve hot on his trail.
Jonathan and John B. bury their faces in their palm in sync, both amused and annoyed at the other boys's childish antics.
Steve tackles JJ in the water, and the two start play fighting like little kids, with Steve dragging JJ underwater and JJ jumping on Steve's back while commenting how Steve looks hairier than Chewbacca, which earns him another tackle.
"Aren't you guys doing anything?" Cleo asks, looking at John B. and Jonathan with a raised eyebrow. "You're gonna let your boyfriends kill each other?"
"They'll tire soon." John B. and Jonathan reply in sync, both with arms crossed and amused expressions on their faces.
The two teens eventually tired themselves and dragged their bodies out of the water, lying down on some towels stretched out on the sand, both panting heavily. A 10-minute long rest, a can of Coke, and the two are ready to go back in the water.
"Let's go surfing, Hairy!" JJ exclaims with a wide grin as he grabs a surfboard for himself and hands another to Steve, who accepts it with a grin of his own, not caring about the nickname. John B. and Pope grab some boards for themselves and follow after JJ, who's already paddling in the water. Steve follows after them but stops upon noticing one person missing—Jonathan.
His boyfriend stayed back and seemed to be talking to Kiara about something (probably turtles). Steve arches an eyebrow at that and walks back to his boyfriend, not wanting to have fun in the water without him. He sticks the board on the sand and crouches down to Jonathan's height. Kiara takes the hint of this being a 'boyfriends only' talk and goes to take a swim with Sarah and Cleo.
Jonathan is the only person in the group still dressed up, and his clothes aren't beach-worthy either. He's wearing jeans shorts, a red shirt, and shoes, his white Converse sneakers, sitting crisscrossed on a towel and biting his nails.
"Hey, what's the matter?" Steve asks, his voice soft and laced with concern. "You're not surfing with us?"
"Uh... M-maybe later." Jonathan averts his gaze from Steve, looking at the sand instead. Steve raises an eyebrow, his senses telling him there's something deeply wrong with his boyfriend.
"Hey, what's the matter, babe? C'mon, you can talk to me," He grabs Jonathan's hand and squeezes it gently, attempting a joke. "You're not feeling self-conscious because of that one time when I told you your feet are too big, right?"
"N-NO!" Jonathan blushes at that and scowls at Steve. "My feet are perfectly sized, Steven! It's your brain that's too tiny for your big head!"
"Ouch." Steve chuckles, not taking Jonathan's insult seriously. He kisses Jonathan's hand and caresses it with his thumb. "What's the matter, then?"
Jonathan sighs and averts his gaze, chewing on his inner cheek. He doesn't like bothering people with his problems but knows Steve won't give up until he tells him what's wrong. Besides, Steve is one of the few people Jonathan trusts with his life. He sighs again and turns to face his boyfriend.
"The last time I was here, a few years back, was with..." He gulps. "Lonnie."
Steve's expression darkens at the mention of him . That damn bastard who, for some reason, is not yet dead and rotting in a random ditch. He takes a deep breath, staying silent and letting Jonathan continue, "I was 13, and my aunt, John's mom, invited me to go swim with her. I went with her, and then Lonnie joined in. He said he wanted to teach me how to hold my breath underwater for a long time, and then he..." Jonathan takes a sharp breath. "He pushed me underwater and kept me there for a long, long time."
"Jesus Christ," Steve mutters under his breath, squeezing Jonathan's hand in reassurance.
"He only let go because my aunt kicked him, and my mom slapped him. After that, she kicked him out of the house, too." Jonathan lowers his head, still biting on his inner cheek. "That's... That's why I'm not a fan of swimming in the ocean."
Steve hums softly, listening to his boyfriend's story. He feels a pang of sadness for Jonathan and a strong urge to find Lonnie, shove him in a bag, and throw him into the ocean, then toss Chum into the water to attract sharks and watch sharks eat him alive. But instead of doing that, Steve takes a deep breath and sits down next to Jonathan, still holding his hand.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Jonathan." He says softly. "But that scumbag isn't here right now. He's not around anymore. And you can do stuff you like again without fearing him."
"I don't know, Steve..."
"C'mon, babe! It'll be fun!" Steve grins, trying to lift the mood. "'Sides, don't you want to see me falling from the board every time I try to stand up and fall into the water like a damn bag of potatoes?"
At that, Jonathan chuckles and shakes his head while imagining Steve falling over and over again. Yeah, he wants to see that.
Jonathan turns to his boyfriend and smiles, squeezing his hand, "Let's surf, Harrington."
"Hell yeah, Byers! That's the spirit!" Steve jumps from the ground and helps Jonathan up.
While Steve grabs his board and a second one for his boyfriend, Jonathan strips, taking off his shoes, socks, shirt, and jeans shorts and putting on a pair of black and green swimming shorts instead. Steve returns in time to see his boyfriend taking off his shirt and whistles, "Damn, God is real, and he's standing right in front of me."
"S-shut up, Steve!" Jonathan's face goes red as a tomato, and he uses his shirt to swat at Steve. He loves and hates when Steve says these stupid things.
Steve chuckles and hands Jonathan his board, "Here ya go, babe! But I don't think you'll need one. Y'know, with those big feet of yours, they're pretty much boards themselves—"
"Shut. Up!" Jonathan slaps at Steve's stomach, earning a pained gasp from his boyfriend, who quickly recovers from the strike and wraps his arm around Jonathan's shoulders, kissing his cheek and guiding him towards the ocean.
While JJ and Pope try—with emphasis on "try"—to teach Steve how to paddle, stand on the board, and catch waves, John B. helps Jonathan regain his surfing skills. It takes some effort, but Jonathan manages to catch a wave without falling off the board after the third try. Steve, on the other hand, keeps falling repeatedly, much to the Pogues and Jonathan's amusement.
"Come on, Steve! You can do it." Jonathan encourages his boyfriend, helping Steve up, "There's another wave forming. C'mon, you can do it this time."
Steve takes a deep breath and positions himself, ready to ride the incoming wave. It's a small wave, so it won't be hard for Steve to maintain balance. The wave starts forming up, pushing Steve's board. "I can do it. I can do it," he mutters to himself while slowly standing up on the board, struggling to maintain balance. He steadies himself on the board, riding along the wave face, laughing like a kid who learned to ride a bicycle.
"I'm doing it. I'm doing it! Jonathan, I'm doing it!"
"I'm seeing you, babe!" Jonathan cheers on his boyfriend, clapping and smiling at him.
"I did it! I'm Poseidon, God of the Sea!" Steve yells, raising his arms in the air before jumping into the water as the wave's size and strength diminish. He resurfaces soon after, shaking his head to remove some strands of hair off his face and smiling widely.
As the sun begins to set, casting an orange hue on the sky, the Pogues swim back to the beach, laughing, talking, and teasing each other. The atmosphere is light and cheerful despite the tiresome day they had.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Pogues."
"And their recruits."
And the atmosphere suddenly got heavy and dark as the voices of Rafe and Topper cut through their banter. The group turns around to see the two jerks leaning against Topper's jeep, smirking and eyeing the group like hungry vultures.
The Pogues groaned and rolled their eyes, not in the mood to deal with Kooks right now. Or ever. "Get lost, you two, leave us alone," Pope says with an annoyed and tired voice.
"Or what, Pogue?" Rafe steps forward, poking at Pope's chest.
"Hey, get your hands off him!" John B. places himself between Pope and Rafe, ready to defend his friend, but Topper pushes him aside.
"Hey, now, John B., let the boys talk." He sneers at him, pushing John B. again. And again. And again—
A hand grips Topper's left wrist. The Kook turns to see who dared touch his perfect skin, raising an eyebrow when he sees Jonathan holding his arm, "Who the fuck are you?"
He tries yanking his arm off Jonathan's grip, but the boy is surprisingly strong, and Topper can feel his wrist starting to ache. His face shows it.
"I'm Jonathan Byers."
"Byers?" Topper attempts another sneer to hide the pain and discomfort he's feeling but can't. "You're related to this piece of shi—"
Topper stumbles back as Jonathan's fist makes contact with his face, and he stumbles back, groaning in pain. Steve hisses at the punch and mumbles, "Damn, this feels familiar."
Rafe growls at seeing his friend getting hit and steps towards Jonathan, raising his hand to hit him. But a hand grips on his shoulder, yanking him back. "Not my boyfriend, you motherfucker!"
Steve hits Rafe square on the face, drops of blood drip from his nose, and he groans in pain. The Kook boys glance at each other, surprised and fuming at being hit by these two new guys, but they won't back down from this fight. Rafe yells in anger and rushes towards Steve, ready to tackle him, but Pope and JJ intercept the guy, pushing him to the ground. Topper lunges towards Jonathan, who swiftly dodges his attack and punches him on the ribcage. John B. comes from behind and kicks Topper's ass, making him stumble forward and fall on top of Rafe, who groans in pain.
"Get off me, you idiot!" Rafe shoves his friend away and attempts to get up, but a kick on the stomach, courtesy of Kiara, followed by a second kick from Sarah, knocks him back to the ground.
As the two boys lie on the beach, groaning in pain, Steve approaches them and smirks, crouching down to their height. "Hey, a heads up for you guys: never insult a Byers if you know what's good for you. Telling from experience." He gives Topper one final slap on the back of his head before standing up again.
The Kooks, realizing they're outnumbered and were humiliated, scramble away pathetically, making the Pogues laugh.
Steve grabs a rock from the ground, one half the size of a baseball, and throws it at Rafe's back, making him yelp in pain and send Steve one last glare before hopping on Topper's jeep and scurrying away.
"Man, that was gold! Pure Gold!" JJ exclaims excitedly. "Ah, how I wish someone recorded that."
"I got ya covered, then." Cleo smirks and steps forward, showing JJ her phone—she recorded the entire fight.
"Cleo, you're amazing! Oh my God, I could kiss you right now if I wasn't a taken man!" The girl laughs and pats his head as if he were a golden retriever.
"I'm forwarding this to everyone I know!" Sarah says with a smile as she watches the video, laughing in amusement.
"By the way, Steve," Kiara calls him, "What did you mean by 'telling from experience'?"
"Oh, funny story—"
"It's not, by any means, funny." Jonathan chimes in.
"I actually insulted Jonathan's family. He got mad. Beat me into a bloody pulp, and after that day, I realized he was the man of my life."
JJ snorts, "Masochist."
"I think it's... Cute?" Sarah says with a sheepish smile. "Kinda?"
Jonathan rolls his eyes as he sees Steve smirking. He'll never understand why Steve feels proud after telling that story.
"Man, I'm spent." Steve groans as he flops on the bed, his damp hair wrapped in a towel. Jonathan emerges from the bathroom soon after and puts on his pajamas. He nods, agreeing with Steve, and yawns, lying down next to his boyfriend, who immediately scoots closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of Jonathan's neck.
Jonathan chuckles softly and wraps his arm around Steve's body, bringing him as close as physically possible, "Clingy baby."
Steve mumbles something incoherent under his breath, his mind already half-asleep.
"Jonathan?"
"Yeah?"
Steve raises his head slightly, enough so he can look at Steve in the eye, and smiles sleepily, "This is the best trip ever."
Jonathan smiles and kisses Steve's forehead, "I know, and it was just the first day."
Steve's smile broadens at that. He can't wait to do all of this all over again tomorrow, the day after that, and the other 12 days.
"JJ, scoot away!" John B. groans as he tries pushing the blonde to the other side of the bed, but JJ is clinging to him like a bloodthirsty vampire.
"Hm, no!" He whines sleepily and clings tighter to John B.'s neck. "You comfy."
John B. sighs and rolls his eyes. It's a hot night, he has no air conditioning, and JJ clinging to him like a koala is not helping. He feels his shirt damp with sweat and droplets of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"Ugh. Clingy baby." He mutters under his breath, closing his eyes and mentally preparing himself for a long, hot night.
"Hm, I'm your clingy baby, Johnny B." Even with the room completely dark, John B. can feel that damn smirk on JJ's face. It makes him want to hit him with a pillow filled with bricks.
As you can see, the Byers boys have a specific type of man.