Chapter Text
“What did I say about inappropriate comments during class?” Steve asked, looking out at his class of middle schoolers. He was teaching health, and, naturally, was getting a lot of comments.
“You said you encourage it, Mr Harrington!” one of the kids called out.
“No, I did not,” Steve muttered to himself. As a babysitter of many years, his patience was pretty good, he thought. But he officially became a teacher three years ago, and it was a lot harder than babysitting Dustin and his friends. It was worth it, of course, shaping the minds of the next generation. There had been a few too many ‘that’s what she said’ jokes, however.
—
Walking through the supermarket that night, trying to find the right sauce for his dinner, Steve let out a long suffering sigh. He was tired, god, he was always tired.
He missed his friends—Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan. He still caught up with Robin every few months or so, even though they lived within walking distance of each other’s houses. He hadn’t seen Nancy in a year, and Jonathan since a year before that. Nancy was in New York working for a big publishing company and Steve knew she was a valued worker. Jonathan was a well known photographer, who had made a lot of money from selling his work.
What did they agree on, after everything was done? They said that they’d never lose contact, keep catching up. Yet here he was, alone, in a supermarket, at six thirty at night, trying to find the right sauce. He didn’t have anything or anyone to go home to. He had no pets, and, despite recently working out he was bisexual which should’ve opened up the dating pool for him, he had no partner.
He couldn’t see where his life was headed anymore.
He turned a corner, walking just a little too fast and crashed straight into another shopper. The other shopper stumbled back a little, dropping the food they were carrying.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Steve muttered, reaching out to steady the person. “You alright—Jonathan?”
Standing in front of him, clearly older than when they last spoke, was definitely Jonathan. His hair was a little shorter, less greasy, and he was just a touch taller, but his eyes were the same, soft and wary.
“Steve?” Jonathan asked, eyes lighting up. Steve had always used to like that, the way you could see every emotion on Jonathan’s face.
“Hey,” Steve said, grinning back. “How are you?”
“I’m doing great, I’m really good,” Jonathan said. “The photography gig I’ve got has been going really well.” Steve could hear the excitement in his voice when he mentioned his work. “How are you, though? How long’s it been?”
“Must be two years now,” Steve said. “I’m pretty good, y’know, love being surrounded by middle schoolers all day every day.”
Jonathan laughed. “Man, I can’t believe you signed up for that. You’re braver than me, man.”
Steve felt his ears heat up slightly at the compliment, his smile turning more sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh, I guess so,” he agreed.
Jonathan squinted a little at him. “Hey, do you want to catch up sometime?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, where do you want to go? There’s a nice bar just down the road from my place, or…?”
Jonathan shook his head quickly. “No, no, not a bar,” he said, a little too urgently. Steve nodded, quickly backtracking.
“Okay, okay, sorry, there’s a nice park near the main road with a neat cafe across from it, would that work?” Steve asked. A cafe should be safe, about as far from a bar as possible.
Jonathan nodded, looking relieved that Steve didn’t say anything about his reaction. “That’s sounds good,” he said, smiling warmly.
—
After some more discussing, they decided Friday night, 7:00 pm, they would meet at the cafe. It was not a date.
Steve drove home that night feeling lighter than he had in… God, it must’ve been since the last time he saw all three of the others together.
Steve’s students the next day noticed that he was a little happier, and did their best to ruin his good mood. Nothing could stop Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, however, and he was happier than he’d been in years. Seeing Jonathan again reminded him of what it was like to be younger and free, without caring about their future.
—
Friday night, Steve was late. He knew Jonathan tended to show up early, or at least he used to, which meant he needed to hurry up. He didn’t know what to wear, which was his first problem. They hadn’t actually discussed if it was going to be more formal, or just a casual thing. He didn’t want to feel under or over dressed, and he couldn’t wear certain clothes because he still got asked out by as many girls as he did in high school. He pulled out his phone, dialling Jonathan’s number from memory and waited for him to pick up.
“Jonathan, hey, I’m so sorry, but I’m—”
Jonathan cut him off. “Going to late, I know. I planned for this, you always show up late.”
Steve let out a sigh of relief. “God, I’m so glad you were ready for that.”
It was kind of nice that Jonathan still remembered stuff like that about Steve—sure, he remembered it about Jonathan, but he wasn’t used to people remembering… well, him.
“It’s all good, Steve, really, I’m sitting in my car waiting for you outside the cafe,” Jonathan told him. “Just message me when you’re here, okay?”
“Okay,” Steve agreed. “Thanks, Jonathan.”
“Bye.”
Steve hung up, and jumped into his car, still trying not to panic. Jonathan can say it’s okay until the end of time, but it’s not going to make Steve feel less bad about rocking up late.
He parked outside of the cafe, messaging Jonathan and jumping out of the car to loiter awkwardly outside.
Jonathan approached him from just a few cars down, smiling warmly. He was wearing an ugly green sweater with an old brown cardigan and faded trousers. He looked nice, nicer than Steve had ever seen him.
Steve still felt a little over dressed, in his two jackets, button up blue flannel shirt and jeans.
“Hey,” Jonathan said brightly. “Nice to see you again.”
“C’mon, don’t be like that,” Steve said, holding his arms out for a hug. “It’s been two years, Jonathan, I think you owe me a hug.”
Jonathan laughed, shuffling forwards into Steve’s embrace and hugging him back. He was a good hugger, Steve had to admit. Not the best hugger he’d ever met, but he was warm, and soft, and squishy in the way that a pillow is, and that was all that really mattered in a hug.The hug stretched a little longer than any normal hug would, but in this case it was different. It was unspoken words, apologies for the time past and a way of saying ‘I missed you’ without having to have an emotional conversation like adults.Eventually, Steve pulled away first.
“Come inside?” he asked softly.
Jonathan nodded. “Lead the way.”