Chapter Text
The BMW screeched on the pavement as Steve managed to take hold of the wheel and turn to the correct line before the cargo truck could run them over, ignoring the one and only Dustin Henderson as the kid yelled something that was hardly an apology over the pitching tires.
Dustin’s grubby fingers clawed at his arm as Steve leaned over the kid and drove them both to the side of the road, both of his hands unable to overpower the death grip Steve had on the wheel.
The teenager was only too grateful that no policemen ever patrolled this far into the borders of Hawkins; sometimes Jim Hopper, the party’s local paranoid member, did… but with how many horrors the man had seen them deal with, Steve was fairly sure Hopper wouldn’t really mind him letting a teen drive.
God forgives Steve for the mighty crime of falling for Dustin’s puppy eyes – the arrogant assholish kid knew how to be cute when the need arose, damn him – over the request of learning how to drive.
Not that he had any ground to judge, Steve had been rocking his car to school since the second year of college, but that hardly mattered when your parents could just go and buy the police thrice over any reports.
Dear dad wouldn’t, of course, chances are he’d pay the police to rid him of his son, but that wasn’t the point anyway.
The point was, the damned kid had turned to him with such indignance as Steve ordered him to hit the brakes, that he barely held himself from spitting something venomous like how he had almost killed them over the childish need of impressing or something.
“-I had it under control!”
“You were in the wrong lane!” Steve screamed right back, fuming at the way Dustin scowled back with righteous anger, the hand that wasn’t still clutching the wheel with a pale grip opening and closing with unused adrenaline and the need to punch something that wasn’t the infuriating bastard sitting on the driver’s seat.
“There was a dog on the road!”
Steve used that one twitching hand to clutch at his hairs, pulling on the roots and hiding his face under the disorganized mess of strands – which had been all well and tidy just an hour ago, because his hair routine was marvelous – that crowned his head. He sighed, but it did not resolve much against the anger burning on his stomach along with the terrific realization that they could have very much died right now.
For a dog on the road.
“You should have hit the br-”
“We were too fast-
“You shouldn’t have been that fast you dumbass!” The words snapped out of his mouth with much too venom for his liking, the usual swear too biting and lacking any ounce of playfulness to soften the blow, but Steve did not care because Henderson pointed one accusing finger right at his face with that over-confidence that often drove him up the walls.
“You didn’t say anything! Up until that dog came up you were just fine with my speed, then suddenly,” Dustin’s hand waved around in a theatrical flare. Steve felt that anger rise from his stomach, boiling up to his neck like scalding bile. The belt clicked off, but went ignored by the on-going tirade “suddenly ooh it’s all Dustin Henderson’ fault! Oh wow let’s hang the kid for speeding up-!”
That was too much.
Steve shot out of his seat, shouldering open the door so forcefully it bounced back on his head with revenge, which only made his rage burn hotter and pound into his brain, great, now a migraine to top things?
The car trembled as Steve slammed the door shut, Dustin’s voice cut short.
Steve leaned on the cold metal, choking on a thousand different ways to curse the overconfident tween inside his car. His hair was messy now. It was a small detail, it was a small detail that made him livid because he had taken his sweet time getting it in order, but it was messy and he couldn’t help ruining it more by driving his fingers through it.
The air felt too warm and stuffy, even though that was just some imagined effect since the late evening carried the usual chilly temperatures of late winter. Steve’s body was tight and coiled up. He hid his head behind one hand, pointer and thumb pressing into his lids until weird shapes danced in the darkness.
It messed up his hair even more.
Rustling feet came up somewhere on his left, stopping a few feet away beside the car. Steve sighed, throat clogged up with ire he knew Dustin didn’t deserve. Not all of it, anyway, because yeah, mistakes do happen-
“I mean, you didn’t say anything about it earlier!”
“Not now Dustin.”
The kid didn’t back up, his arguments probably already formulated on that brilliant brain of his where he must have won this entire debate in his made-up mind scenario. The weird shapes intensified as Steve pressed harder into his eyes.
“And really, how was I even going to know a dog would come up out of nowhere-”
“I said not now, Henderson!” He slammed a closed fist against the roof of the car, for once not caring of the unpleasant sound it made. The immediate pain that irradiated from his knuckles both helped ground him and made his teeth grind into each other tighter with annoyance.
Having freed his eyes from being pressed into early blindness, Steve glared at the boy in front of him, barely tall enough to reach his chin without that hat of his. It had been almost a year since he was roped into the demodog mess, where the boy’s presence in his daily life became almost constant. His growing teeth made him look younger than he was, yet soon he’d be tall enough to be at nose height.
Henderson’s face was morphed into that familiar scowl where he was gearing up to defend his ever perfect self to the death, and that in itself was enough for Steve to ignore the way his eyes were starting to puff out.
“Step the fuck off of that high pedestal Henderson!” Steve snapped, crossing the distance between them to sink an accusing finger on the kid’s shoulder and ignoring the growing rosy on his face, “You almost got us killed! Killed, you get it smartass?!”
“What? You wanted me to run over it?!”
“I wanted to not let a dumb toddler take the wheel.” He said, turning and putting some distance between them, his blood boiling and demanding movement before a blood vessel could burst open “Guess I’m too much of an idiot to believe you’d do anything right, yeah?”
The words were out, and for once Dustin was quiet.
The words were out, and Steve’s brain took a minute too long to realize that maybe, maybe the venom on them had been too much for some random evening that was supposed to be fun.
Maybe it was too much for a thirteen years old.
Steve breathed in the cold air, trying to cool down his anger as well as the starting shame of snapping up on the kid he knew looked up on him, before turning.
The place where Dustin had been was empty, and for all the duration of a second Steve panicked. His neck snapped from turning to look around the empty road and the forest beside it, before thankfully resting on the curly hairs in the inside of the car.
On the back seat.
Dustin had never, ever taken the back seat, not when Lucas called shotgun, not when he had to fistfight Mike out of it, not even when Will tried to very shyly take it – though on that occasion he dealed one or two nerdy comics for the privilege of eternal claim over it, at least when baby Byers was involved. Byers would call shotgun and give it to him, since Mike could never argue much against him and Lucas didn’t really care enough to put up a fight.
Of course, he wouldn’t be counting the time he got kidnapped by the kids during the whole not-dying by-demodogs. Oh, and there were a few times where Max bodily removed Dustin from the seat, but it was scarce, seeing as the girl often had her asshole brother and whatever deal they had that made him drive her around.
The point was, Dustin never in good conscience refused the front seat, even on the plentiful times they argued and that…
Maybe I went too far.
He was silent as he walked to the other side and opened the driver’s door with a curt resolve, stealing a subtle glance at Dustin with the rearview mirror. The scowl was still there, and the kid was resolutely looking at the window, but his eyes were slightly pinky. If Steve concentrated, he could even hear an attempt at masquerading a sniff with a couch.
The key turned, lightening the engine.
Steve sighed again, this time more due to himself, because it was his fault after all, wasn’t it? The moment he said yes to Dustin Henderson driving his BMW around for a teeny teen minutes, he should have resigned himself to explaining everything, reporting feedback on every action, every increased speed…
The thing was, one of his friends had been a handful younger than him before; none had ever looked up to him. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if any of his previous friends looked at him, at least as long as money wasn’t involved. Steve never had to set an example or reign in Tommy from driving like crazy.
But Tommy wasn’t Dustin, and Steve should have told Dustin to slow down. Dog notwithstanding, it was expected of a kid to not want to run over an animal even if it meant turning straight into one ton of cargo truck about to smash them into demodog’s chow.
Steve looked up once again before stepping on the gas, feeling as the previous anger drained from him like water, leaving behind the bitter taste of regret on his dried tongue. He ignored the light burning of eyes on his nape, granting Dustin a bit of time to organize his own feelings and keep his dignity over the discussion. Soon, the sound of tires against asphalt tattered his scrambled thoughts into the somewhat normal mindscape he had grown used to after dealing with Upside Down bulshit: management zone. The damage was done and Steve had to deal with the shitty hand he had for now.
“Dustin?”
“Hm.”
The kid sulked even more, something Steve hadn’t realized was even possible. The attitude certainly didn’t make Steve any more eager to pronounce the next words, but seeing as he was kind of the adult here, he decided on cutting to the chase:
“Look man, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.” At least on that Steve was glad to see Dustin turn back to gawk at him. Jeez, apologizing can’t be that surprising.
Steve tried to give him a reassuring smile. He was glad Dustin’s face had recovered from the rosy hue; the kicked puppy on that expression would chase him to the end of eternity, with how out of character it was on someone as confident of himself as Dustin.
“Yeah, no shit.” Henderson said under his breath, probably still mighty pissed off. At the very least he had the decency of not directing that on Steve. Then he shrugged. “I was too fast. Not that you said anything, but still.”
“I know, I should have said something.” Steve agreed, eyes not leaving the road as they slowed for an U-turn. This far from Hawkins most roads were made up from dirt and no speed limits which he’d normally abuse.
Would have, a year ago.
“You weren’t doing a bad job, but maybe we should-” wait until you’re sixteen, is what Steve would have said, as he drove them to the correct lane and glanced up at the rearview mirror. The smile on his face dropped. “DUSTI-!”
Steve barely had time to pull on the wheel before the incoming car slammed on them. His forehead hit the wheel, and everything was black.