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“And now, our next film, entitled Devouring.”
Unconsciously, Jonathan sat up a little straighter. When he first started at NYU, he’d tried to sit at the front of his classes and put himself out there a bit more. Slowly, though, he’d gravitated back to his natural state hunched over at the back of the classroom. He had a full scholarship but he still worked nights, more out of habit than anything else, and he was often tired in class. It just made more sense to sit where fewer people could see him.
Now, though, adrenaline was pumping through him. This was his film, the one he’d filmed and produced and edited.
He exchanged an excited and anxious look with Emily, the classmate he’d been paired with for this assignment. She’s written the screenplay and played the main character, a woman who, in a parody of capitalism, murdered and ate a series of men who got too close to her.
It had been a fun project. It was challenging, not least because Jonathan was more used to just taking photos of, often unaware, people. Working with a team had been a new experience for him and he’d surprised by how much he enjoyed it. He liked having creative control, liked being able to direct people to fulfil his vision.
He only hoped his professor liked it too.
The film flickered on. This was one of their first projects, so it was relatively short: only fifteen minutes. That had been a challenge.
The first five minutes looked like a typical love story. Emily bumped into a handsome young man (played, slightly to Jonathan’s chagrin, by Steve Harrington – there were only so many people in the class and Steve had been happy to do it for free). They flirted, and eventually the young man agreed to go home with her. The camera lingered on him, emphasising his youth and innocence.
Then the tone shifted. The couple were chatting and flirting when Steve excused himself to use the bathroom. He opened the wrong door and ended up in the basement. The camera swept over the room: the meat cleaver, the blood, the human bones, the coals of a fire. Then it focused on the dawning horror on Steve’s face.
It had been unsettling, realising what a good actor Steve was. Somehow Jonathan hadn’t thought his charisma would carry over to acting, but seeing it like this, it was impossible to tell that the horror, disgust, and terror weren’t really Steve’s emotions. When he’d been filming the scenes with Steve and Emily, he’d almost thought Steve really had a crush on her.
The film continued. Emily found Steve in the basement. She attacked. Steve struggled, begged, and pleaded. He was trying to get through to her. He wanted to know why. Emily explained simply: “Because I loved them.” She listed her victims: father, brother, best friend, boyfriend, etc.
She killed Steve’s character and then cooked up and ate his arm. The film ended with the realisation that her cannibalism had made her blind.
“Okay,” the professor said, pausing the film before the credits could roll. “What feedback does anyone have on this film?”
The room was quiet for a few moments. There was always a hesitation when the floor was first opened up to the students, everyone waiting to see who would speak up first (and usually hoping it wouldn’t be them). Jonathan was getting better at breaking that silence, but since this was his film, he couldn’t really offer feedback on it.
A girl near the front of the class raised her hand. “I don’t really understand why the cannibalism was there? Like, was a metaphor for something or was it just about cannibalism?”
Another girl, Rita, raised her hand almost immediately. The professor gestured to her, smiling.
“It’s about love, isn’t it?” she said. Jonathan frowned. That hadn’t really been what he was going for, but he could understand why she thought that. “The woman – Betty – she says she had to kill them because she loved him. So it’s about love as an overpowering, even evil, force. Betty loves them and so she consumes them. Even the way it’s shot – it kinda looks like the director’s in love with Kyle too.”
Jonathan, who had been making notes, froze. A good half of the class were nodding along with Rita’s statement.
“I thought that too,” a guy two seats down from Jonathan said. “Betty’s supposed to the main character, right? But the camera focusses on Kyle any time he’s in the shot.”
What the fuck was everyone was talking about? Jonathan wasn’t in love with Steve. That was a totally insane idea. Jonathan barely even liked Steve, and even then only grudgingly.
Clearly his classmates had no idea what they were saying.
“And what does that do for the film?” the professor was saying. “If the camera is focussing on Kyle rather than on Betty, what does that do for the message of the film?”
“I like it,” another guy, Nathan, said. “It focusses the audience’s attention and sympathy more on the victims than the cannibal herself. So it becomes more about the effect of this kind of love, or whatever, has on the innocent people who get caught up in it.”
“Interesting,” the professor said. “So you don’t think it’s really about the effect her actions have Betty herself?”
The discussion continued. They were back in the territory of things Jonathan should absolutely be taking notes on, but he couldn’t focus. His mind was still caught on what Rita had said about Kyle, the character Steve had played. What had she been seeing? Yes, Jonathan had focussed a lot on Steve while they were filming, but that because he represented all the victims Betty had had. He’d meant the film to be a more a criticism of capitalism than an exploration of obsessive love, but he could at least see where that had come from – a consequence of focussing on a romantic relationship. But him, as the director, being in love with Steve? What the fuck?
They must be confused, Jonathan concluded. Steve was of the main actors in the film, and he was annoyingly good-looking, so of course everyone had included that the person filming must be attracted to him.
Yeah, Jonathan told himself. That was it.
Steve was almost always late to their monthly meet-ups at Robin’s uncle’s house. He had the longest drive, after all.
Robin was usually there first; it was her uncle’s house, and the others had felt awkward turning up before, at least at first. Besides, Robin liked her uncle. Usually she came down a day or two before the others just to stay with him for a bit.
This month, though, she’d had an exam the day before the meet-up and was running late. That meant it was just Jonathan and Nancy, perched on the slightly uncomfortable sofa in the living room, talking through Jonathan’s film assignment. Since the break-up, they’d found themselves much more comfortable with each other, and their conversations had become much easier and more balanced.
“– And then,” Jonathan was saying, “Rita said it looked like I was in love with Steve!”
Nancy let out a shocked laugh. “What?”
“I know!” Jonathan exclaimed. “She said the way it had been filmed made it look like the producer was in love with Steve’s character. A lot of people were nodding along. I can see where they were all coming from in thinking that it seemed like a film about love, but I really don’t understand that bit.”
“Hmm,” Nancy murmured. She looked distant and thoughtful.
“What?” Jonathan asked, a little defensively. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.
“I just,” Nancy said. “I kind of understand where they’re coming from? I’m not saying I think you’re in love with Steve! It’s just, you are… a bit obsessed with him. You always have been. And I know you think it’s just jealousy, but sometimes I have thought that maybe, if you were gay, Steve would probably be your type. And you were really weird when he came out to us, remember?”
“He called me a queer once!” Jonathan said. “I think it’s understandable that I’d be surprised when he told us he was gay.”
“That was a long time ago,” Nancy said. “I know you’ve forgiven him.”
Jonathan grumbled. He couldn’t deny that that was true. To be totally honest, he’d pretty much forgotten about that part of their fight, and he’d only really remembered when Steve had sat them down to tell them he was gay. That wasn’t really why he’d struggled with Steve coming out.
It was just… weird. He’d spent so long viewing Steve as just this straight, popular douche-bag, and while he’d made terms with Steve actually being a pretty cool guy, he’d always viewed Steve something as a rival, especially when it came to Nancy. Even though they had both agreed to let Nancy go and to move on, it had still been strange to realise that Steve was more likely to date Jonathan than Nancy.
Thinking of dating Steve made Jonathan feel strange. He’d spent so long standing on the outside of Steve’s relationship with Nancy, watching with seething jealousy as Steve bought her flowers and arranged thoughtful little dates and kissed her in the hallways. Steve was good at playing the thoughtful boyfriend and Nancy hadn’t really wanted that but it had still made Jonathan feel insecure sometimes, when he was dating her.
He wondered what it would have been like, if Steve had been doing those same things for Jonathan. Nancy wasn’t very romantic and neither was Jonathan; he viewed most of the trappings of modern romance as just another symptom of consumerist capitalism. But he couldn’t deny that it would have been nice if Nancy would occasionally bring him flowers, or make a mixtape, or something.
Would Steve even do that? Jonathan didn’t know how gay dating worked. It couldn’t be the same as straight dating for obvious reasons, but even putting that aside, Jonathan didn’t know how Steve acted around men he liked. Did he still bring them flowers and mixtapes? Or was there some other expected code of behaviours, one the those outside the community – like Jonathan – just didn’t know about?
Would Jonathan be expected to do the same thing? He didn’t even know what music Steve liked. Would he want to receive flowers?
Probably, Jonathan thought. For all he didn’t have a great track record at dating (though that might be at least partially explained by his sexuality), Steve was a romantic. He wanted six kids and an RV, for God’s sake.
Jonathan had been surprised, when Nancy had first told him. Six kids was a lot, especially considering Steve was an only child who wasn’t used to sharing. But over time, Jonathan had grown to see the appeal. He had always had a great relationship with Will; and he missed Jane with a dull ache that never went away. Steve would be a wonderful father, much better than Lonnie, or Mr Wheeler, or even Hopper.
Back in High School, Jonathan had enjoyed being alone. He’d been resentful of the kids who excluded him; but his loner status had always been a perverse source of pride for him. He was different, not duped by what the High School hierarchy claimed.
Now, though, after spending so much time with the Party and the rest of their little monster-fighting crew, he could see the appeal in a large, close-knit family. He understood why Steve wanted his kids and his RV. He could imagine it, the games and petty squabbles and twisted, ramblings conversations from the children, Steve smiling warm and easy, bandaging scraped knees and breaking up stupid little fights. Grumbling about being woken up early but listening patiently to a kid talking about something he didn’t understand while he made coffee. Bending over backwards to make sure each child could explore whatever hobby they wanted. Smiling up at Jonathan from where he was admiring a kid’s masterpiece–
Oh. Oh fuck.
Jonathan was in love with Steve Harrington.
Jonathan had not recovered from his revelation by the time Robin and Steve arrived within minutes of each other, already in the middle of catching up by the time they dragged their luggage into the living room. Steve flashed his stupidly handsome grin, running his hand through his hair – longer now, but no less perfect for that. Jonathan’s heart jumped.
How the fuck was he only just realising how much he liked Steve.
His response to Steve’s greeting was stuttered and basically incomprehensible. Steve didn’t seem to notice, already back to arguing about some Top 40 song with Robin. Nancy shot Jonathan a knowing look and Jonathan raised his middle finger at her where the other two wouldn’t see.
Jonathan found himself quieter than usual this month. He mostly watched Steve. He was cataloguing all the signs he’d missed; the ways he responded to Steve, the things he noticed, the terrible flash of jealousy he felt when Steve off-handedly mentioned that the new History teacher was hot.
He must have been feeling this for much longer than he’d realised. But he’d never thought that he might be gay. Sure, he’d done a little bit of experimenting with Argyle, but he hadn’t enjoyed it, and he liked girls. He’d spent so long in love with Nancy and he’d dated after her too. He’d never liked a guy before, in the way he apparently liked Steve.
But he did like Steve. They’d called a truce after their talk in the Upside Down that last time and since then they’d been trying to get to know each other without the weight of their shared history. Somewhere over the past couple of years, Jonathan had started to look forward to seeing Steve in Philly as much as, even more than, he looked forward to seeing Nancy. He’d assumed it was because Steve lived further away and therefore he saw him less.
But then Steve had come up to New York to help with his film. And Jonathan had liked having him around. He’d liked showing Steve around the city, liked hanging out with the impending end of the world, liked waking up find Steve trying to make them both breakfast and burning the eggs.
He’d wanted Steve to come back almost as soon as he’s left. Steve had seemed so much happier, so much more relaxed away from the ghosts that haunted Hawkins. He clearly loved his job; but there were jobs involving children in New York.
Jonathan had never lived alone before. He would have liked some company in his government-funded apartment.
Steve laughed at something Nancy said, his eyes crinkling in amusement. He would have laughter lines one day. Jonathan wanted to be there to see them.
He had to look away when Steve turned his happy gaze on Jonathan’s face.
“Are you okay?” Steve asked tentatively. “You’ve been weird since Robin and I got here. I didn’t do anything to upset you, did I?”
Jonathan stared at him for a moment. His big, earnest brown eyes, his stupid moles, the cute little downturn of his mouth. He looked anxious, shifting from foot to foot, desperate to make sure they hadn’t undone the progress they’d made in their friendship.
It all made Jonathan lose his mind a little bit.
He jerked forwards, tangling his hands in Steve’s too-long hair and pulling him down so Jonathan could kiss him.
Steve made a shocked little noise against his lips. “What–”
“Shut up,” Jonathan ordered.
He kissed Steve again and this time Steve responded, a helpless little noise escaping him before he was pressing forwards, still moving a little tentatively.
Kissing Steve was nothing like kissing Nancy or any of the other girls Jonathan had been with; it wasn’t even much like kissing Argyle. Steve’s lips were soft, contrasting with the rough burn of his stubble. He was taller than Jonathan in a way that made the angle border on awkward but he let Jonathan take the lead in a way that was new and intoxicating.
A fire burnt in Jonathan’s stomach. He wanted to take, wanted to push Steve down on his bed and cover his body completely, wanted to bury himself inside him.
He wanted–
“Move to New York with me,” Jonathan said, pulling back slightly. He could still feel Steve’s warm breath puff against his lips. Steve’s eyes were wide, pupils blown; bright spots of pink burned on his cheeks. Jonathan wanted to kiss them.
“What’s going on, Jonathan?” Steve’s voice cracked. “What’s–”
“I’m in love with you,” Jonathan said. “I want your stupid RV and your insane amount of kids.”
“Six,” Steve said faintly.
“Six little nuggets,” Jonathan agreed. “I want all of that, Steve. And I want you to move to New York with me.”
Steve stared at him, perfect hair tousled from Jonathan’s hair. Jonathan wanted to ruin it. Ruin him.
Fear crept back in in the silence. What if Steve didn’t want this? Jonathan really hadn’t thought this through. He’d just acted on instinct, going after what he wanted for once.
“Okay,” Steve said. He leant down to kiss Jonathan again.
Nancy laughed at Jonathan for five minutes straight when they told her. Robin laughed for even longer.