It wasn't fair of him to put this on her now; not when they had more important things to worry about. But this might be his only chance. Steve had to take it. While they shifted through the stuff from the Byers' shed for heaters, he bit the bullet and asked, "What if you could date both of us? At the same time?"

The box fan she was holding up fell back into the pile of junk on the ground. She stared up at him with wide eyes. His heart hammered away in his chest; it hadn't beat this hard last year when she'd pointed a gun at him or when the monster had crawled out of a hole in the ceiling. Not even when he'd faced off with a whole pack of those demo-dogs in the junkyard earlier tonight. Steve didn't think he'd ever been as scared as he was right now.

"What are you talking about?"

Steve swallowed, forcing himself to meet her eyes. She had to know he was serious about this.

"You like Jonathan"—Nancy opened her mouth, glancing in the direction of the house and Steve shook his head—"and it's okay, really. I get it."

Her mouth slowly shut as she blinked. She looked at him like he was a puzzle she hadn't found the piece she needed to solve. "You do?"

Steve gave a jerking shrug, but nodded. It was a fight to get the words out, but he somehow made it happen. "Yeah, I do. He's a good—a great guy. I can see why you. But I think, I hope that. That you didn't mean...everything you said. Before."

"I didn't," she rushed to assure him, stepping into his space. Her grip was tight when she wrapped her fingers around his arm. Breathing became easier with her reaction as relief shot through him from head to toe. "I was—I am angry about...about Barb."

Hearing her name was like a punch in the gut, but Steve almost expected it this time. Nancy thought he didn't care; that acting like everything was normal meant he didn't look at the pool outside his window, remembering what had happened in his own backyard, unable to sleep most nights. She didn't know that the only reason he was dealing half as well as he was, was because he had her. He'd hoped he could be the same for her. Obviously he wasn't.

Jonathan was.

"But I don't think you're bullshit. I shouldn't have said that."

"I get why you did," he said, finally allowing himself to look away. "I haven't been the best boyfriend."

It hardly stung that she didn't rush to deny it this time.

"But I do love you. I want you to be happy. And if you want us to be over, we'll do that. But," Steve took a deep breath to steel his nerves, "I'd like to, to try."

Nancy stared at him for so long that Steve was surprised no one came to check what was keeping them. Her face softened as her eyes watered. His breath punched out of him when she nodded.

"After we save Will and close the gate," she said, letting go of him and beginning to sort through the junk again, "we'll talk to Jonathan."

Steve gave himself a moment to breathe before he joined her. His hands shook as he dug a space heater out from underneath the box fan she held up again. He'd taken his chance and somehow, it hadn't blown up in his face. Yet.

He hoped it went half as well with Jonathan. He already knew who Nancy would choose if it came down to it and it wasn't going to be him.

"When did you—"

Steve rolled his head to the side to look at Nancy when she cut off. She was picking at her nails, eyes on the tv. They were blank, like she wasn't seeing it. When Steve shut the tv off, she didn't even blink.

"When did I what?" he asked, shifting around so that he was facing her. He bent his leg at the knee, stretching his other out to rest across the coffee table. Elbow on the back of the couch, Steve rested his cheek on his fist. He reached out with his free hand to wrap it around one of hers. If he let her, she would pick at her nails until they bled.

She blinked, nose scrunching up when she seemed to realize the show wasn't playing anymore. Steve waited while she shook her head. Finally, she looked at him. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and he wanted to follow their example, but he didn't. They were taking things slow. It was torture, having her at his house and sitting on nearly opposite ends of the couch. A month ago, they would have been up in his room, in his bed, after a few minutes of half hearted studying in the kitchen.

Things were different now, though. He would get used to it. It could have been worse; if Jonathan hadn't tentatively agreed to give this a chance, she wouldn't be here at all.

"When did I what?" he asked again when she didn't say anything.

"Figure out you liked Jonathan?"

Steve was careful not to tighten the hand he had wrapped around hers. He dug the knuckles of his other one into his still-tender cheek instead. This was a topic he'd been doing his best to steer clear from. He knew better than to think he could avoid it forever, though. Not when she'd gotten the impression that night—when he told her he understood why she liked Jonathan—that it meant he felt the same way.

If she needed to believe that to date both of them, he wasn't going to correct her. There were worse things; like not getting to be with her anymore, for one.

"I don't know," he said, letting her go and rolling onto his back. He dropped his head against the top of the couch and stared at the ceiling. He'd had two weeks to come up with an answer, but it was hard to know what was the right one.

"You can tell me."

Steve felt the cushions dip as Nancy closed the space between them. She fit perfectly against his side and didn't move when he dropped his arm to wrap around her shoulders. He held her tight, but didn't look down at her. Not yet. He could already picture the look on her face; encouraging him to open up.

If he wanted to keep her, he had to do this.

Sticking as close to the truth as he could, Steve said, "When he knocked some sense into me. Literally."

Nancy dug one of her fingers into his ribs and Steve yelped, jolting away without letting go. "Be serious."

"I am being serious," he said, settling back into the couch. Nancy's cheek rubbed against his shoulder. He looked to find her staring up at him and he once again felt like a puzzle she was trying to solve. Steve took a chance, pressing a kiss to her forehead. She leaned into the touch.

"Really?" she asked when he pulled away.

When Steve let himself think about it, that was the first time he had thought of Byers as Jonathan. The rest of that night was a frantic mess of memories, but he still remembered banging on the door and begging Jonathan to let him apologize for what he'd said. If it weren't for Nancy choosing to get back together with Steve—settling for something familiar when the world had gone crazy—so soon after...everything, he wondered if they might have managed to become some kind of friends before their thing now.

He nodded. "Yeah, really."

"You don't like Billy, do you?"

"...What?" Steve leaned over, away from Nancy. She didn't protest when he let go of her. Choosing to turn so that she was facing him, she mirrored the position he'd taken earlier. Steve moved, too, resting his back against the arm of the couch, one foot on the ground and the other curled up under him.

Chin pillowed on top of her arms where she'd draped them across the back of the couch, Nancy shrugged. "You fought with him, too."

Steve twisted his face in disgust. It was easy to ignore the way it hurt the still-healing bruises when the thought alone was. Ugh.

"I deserved it with Jonathan," he said, looking at the couch cushion between them. He'd been angry and hurt and said things he didn't believe just to make Jonathan hurt as much as he did. Besides not stopping Tommy from spray painting that awful message on The Hawk's marquee, goading Jonathan into that fight was his lowest moment. "Hargrove is an asshole."

Nancy snorted, covering her mouth and nose a moment later. It was enough to lighten the mood. Steve laughed along with her, letting some of the tension he'd built up ease away. She seemed appeased enough by his answer, at least. When their laughter died down, Nancy tugged at the leg he had curled up until he stretched it out. He let her pull him so that only his head was resting against the arm of the couch as she wrapped herself around him like a blanket.

He curled his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. The words were there, on the tip of his tongue. Steve held them back, contenting himself with holding her tight, grateful that she was there to hold at all.

The bowling alley was loud and crowded and the perfect place for the three of them to hang out without worrying about what anyone would say. Between the music and the thunder of pins being downed—or the occasional cries of frustration when they were missed—even the group in the lane next to them wouldn't be able to hear their conversation.

"It's okay, you know," Steve told Jonathan, leaning in close so that he could speak without raising his voice.

Nancy was up next, carefully deliberating how her roll should go. It was an adorable waste of time. He'd never once seen her get a strike any of the times they'd come here in the past.

Steve was focused on Jonathan, though. He saw the way Jonathan's throat moved when he swallowed, looking nervous as he asked, "What are you talking about?"

"It's okay to hold her hand," Steve swallowed, too, curling his own hand until he felt his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. Jonathan was so determined not to look anywhere at him, Steve knew he wouldn't notice his own unease. "Or kiss her."

That got Jonathan's attention, head snapping Steve's direction. Steve loosened his fist, shoving his hand under his thigh on the uncomfortable plastic chair he was sitting in. Lines creased Jonathan's forehead. Steve's mother would lament about the wrinkles in his future if she ever saw that.

"I know," Jonathan said, voice low and just as uncertain as the look on his face.

Steve snorted. Since the three of them got here, Jonathan had been careful not to let his touch linger too long. No matter how close Nancy stood or how she leaned into his space, Jonathan held himself apart. Every time he shifted his shoulders, the way he did when he was uncomfortable, Nancy's face fell. The whole point of this was to make Nancy happy—really, the point was to be able to be part of what made her happy. But if Jonathan kept acting like he thought Steve was going to beat him up for something he suggested, Nancy was going to realize this couldn't work.

"Do you?"

Jonathan looked away and when Steve followed his gaze, he saw Nancy finally taking her turn. The ball rolled to the left, barely avoiding the gutter. Only two of the pins went down. Steve smiled at the way Nancy's whole body bent with her huff of frustration.

"You're up," he said, planting a hand against Jonathan's back. Jonathan jolted and Steve didn't know whether it was because of Steve touching him or if he'd managed to forget Steve was here at all while watching Nancy. Didn't matter either way. He ignored the uncertainty still painted across Jonathan's face as he leaned in closer.

"Nancy still has another turn."

Steve nodded, giving Jonathan a push. "And you're going to help her."

Jonathan looked at him like he was crazy. That was miles better than his expression from a minute ago. "She's—"

"Losing, and she hates losing. Go. Offer to help her before she gets another gutterball."

Slowly, Jonathan rose from the chair. When he hesitated, Steve gave him another push that had him stumbling in Nancy's direction. Jonathan glanced over his shoulder and Steve leaned back, arms stretched out along the backs of the chairs on either side of him. He shot Jonathan a grin, jerking his head towards Nancy. She was busy analyzing her next move the way she'd been doing for the whole game.

Steve saw the surprise on her face when she realized that it was Jonathan who tapped on her shoulder. The din of the music and other people's games made it impossible to hear what they were saying. He didn't need to, though. Jonathan gestured from the ball and Nancy to the lane and a smile lit up her face as she nodded.

With one final glance at Steve, Jonathan slowly wrapped himself around Nancy's back. Steve tightened his jaw, but otherwise didn't allow himself to react. Nancy was following along, letting Jonathan lead her movements. He must have said something funny because she laughed, turning so that Steve could catch her profile. Then she rolled the ball, knocking down every pin but one; the best she'd done the entire game. Jonathan's eyes went wide when Nancy jumped and threw her arms around him in her excitement. His mouth went slack and Steve nodded, grin still firmly in place when Jonathan looked back his way.

As the night wore on, Jonathan helped with all of Nancy's remaining turns. He let his hand linger on her back while they waited for the ball to hit the pins. Seeming confident that Steve was the only one paying attention to them, Jonathan initiated a kiss for the first time. And Nancy didn't stop smiling the rest of the night.

All in all, despite going home with a sore jaw and tight stomach, date night was a success.

There were moments. When the three of them were alone in the library or at Steve's house. Nancy would raise her eyebrows and nudge Jonathan's arm when she thought Steve couldn't see. Moments later, every time, Jonathan's hand found his.

The touch was always brief when they were somewhere others might see. But it lingered while watching movies or studying together. It was...weird. Steve wasn't used to holding anyone's hand but Nancy's. He really wasn't used to holding hands with someone who wasn't a girl.

She had been dating both of them for a little over a month when Nancy finally brought it up. Steve was surprised she managed to hold back that long. He was grateful she had waited until a day Jonathan was busy right after school.

Nancy sat in the passenger seat of Steve's car, picking at her nails and Steve knew what was coming before she spoke.

"If you're not comfortable with something," she said, and he saw her turn to look at him out of the corner of his eye, "you can tell me."

Steve was careful not to tighten his grip on the wheel. Taking a quiet breath, he glanced her way. She was still picking at that nail and he reached over to stop her. The tightness in his chest eased off when she tangled their fingers together, letting them rest in her lap.

"Sorry," she said, but he shook his head and squeezed her hand.

"Nothing to be sorry for," he told her, smiling. "And I'm not uncomfortable."

Nancy used her free hand to cover their joined ones. Her grip became tight and she narrowed her eyes at him. Steve turned his attention back to the road, but rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand to let her know he was listening.

"Are you sure? Jonathan thinks…"

"What does Jonathan think?"

He pulled into his driveway and wished it had taken longer to get home. This conversation would have been easier if he didn't have to meet her eyes. Who knew what Jonathan might have said now that he wasn't uncomfortable being with Nancy. Still, here they were. Steve left his seatbelt alone, not wanting to let go of Nancy's hand to get it off. He turned to face her as well as he could. She was staring at their hands, running her fingers across the back of his.

She looked at him again when she said, "He thinks you're worried I'll be upset if you do anything with him. That you need to hear from me that it's okay."

The relief that washed over Steve made it impossible to respond right away. He could kiss Jonathan for that. Was going to have to, he realized, but he was too relieved to have the perfect excuse to get hung up on the way his stomach flipped at the thought.

"Oh," Nancy said, squeezing his hand tighter. He wondered what his face looked like to make hers soften as she watched him. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't. I'm sorry. I should have said something. You're not a mind reader." He paused. "Are you?"

Nancy laughed, shaking her head. Her eyes were still serious as she regarded him, but she was smiling now. That was better than before.

"Nope, no mind reading. Yet. Who knows in Hawkins?"

"Don't even joke about that," he said, keeping his tone light even though he was serious. The last thing he needed was anyone around him being able to read his mind.

They were quiet for a minute. It was comfortable; more so than the drive home had been for him. He let go of her hand to finally undo his seatbelt.

"That's all it is?" Nancy asked before he got his door open. She wasn't picking at her nails again when he looked, but her smile had faded. "Because sometimes…"

Steve dropped his arm back to his side, angling himself towards her. His chest tightened as he fought the distinct urge to hold his breath. He didn't know what she might have picked up on from him over the last month. If Nancy knew, she wouldn't be here; she would call the whole thing off if she ever figured it out.

"What?"

"Sometimes you seem...tense when Jonathan touches you. And I just—" She shrugged, giving a helpless wave of her hands. Steve tucked some of her hair back behind her ear while he thought about what to say. She wasn't wrong. He was going to have to get a lot more comfortable around Jonathan the next time they saw each other.

"I'm not used to it. I keep," he sighed, running his thumb across her cheek. "I keep expecting the wrong person to see."

There. It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie, either. Steve had fought monsters and survived. He would like to continue surviving long enough to graduate. Hopefully long enough to follow Nancy wherever she went for school. If Tommy or Hargrove, or anyone, really, saw him and Jonathan holding hands. Kissing? He didn't think either of them would make it to graduation.

If he had his way, Nancy—neither of them—would ever know the other reason he was so hesitant.

"Even…" Steve followed Nancy's gaze to his house. He took his hand back and gave a laugh that didn't sound nearly as forced as it was.

"I guess I could lighten up a little while we're at home. It's not like my parents are ever around long enough to notice."

"Hey," she said, wrapping the front of his shirt in her fingers and pulling him close. The angle was awkward, but he didn't care because she was kissing him. When they parted, she raised her eyebrows and tilted her head with a teasing smile. "I bet if you asked, Jonathan would be willing to share his mom with you."

His laugh was genuine this time. He rested his forehead against hers as it died down. "You're probably right. I'm okay, though."

"Are you?" she asked, palm warm against his cheek.

Steve hummed. He closed his eyes and kissed her. "Better than okay."

She smiled at him when they moved to finally get out of the car. Steve reached for her hand on the walk to the house. The last of his nerves settled when she tangled their fingers together and closed the little bit of distance between them.

The next day at school, while they leaned against the lockers waiting for Nancy to get her books, Steve stood close enough that his arm was pressed firmly against Jonathan's. If his stomach flipped at Jonathan's hastily tamped down smile, he figured it was because they were standing where anyone could see.

Steve dropped his bag in his room. Even though neither of his parents would be back in at least a week, he couldn't bring himself to leave it somewhere else in the house while he wasn't working on anything. Nancy followed close behind him. She set her bag down next to his. Jonathan left his on the floor just inside the doorway.

"Alone at last," Nancy said, voice light and teasing and everything that made it easy to brush off his nerves at what she was implying.

Steve found himself smiling at her with no effort at all. "I thought you wanted to study?"

"Sure," she said, drawing the word out as she tugged at the sides of his jacket. When Steve glanced in Jonathan's direction, he was watching them closely. His shoulders weren't hunched; hadn't been since they got to the house. Steve thought he was getting better at reading Jonathan over the last month. There was cautious hope on his face. Steve wondered when Nancy had told him about their conversation. "Study. In your bedroom instead of the kitchen. Where we always study."

"Hey, maybe I want to be comfortable while going over all those flashcards you've got in your backpack." Nancy rolled her eyes, dropping his jacket with a scoff. He steadied himself—he could do this, had to do this—and waved his arm at Jonathan. "Back me up here, man."

"You do kind of go overboard on the flashcards," Jonathan said when Nancy looked at him with her hands on her hips. Even through his nerves, Steve was impressed. If it had been even a couple weeks ago, he was sure Jonathan wouldn't have been comfortable enough to joke like that around her.

"I don't know that I like you two ganging up on me," she said, flopping dramatically onto the chair by his desk. He couldn't take her seriously with her eyes crinkling like they were.

"You love it," Steve said, just barely holding back the you love us that almost wanted to slip out instead. His heart felt briefly lodged in his throat as he sat on the end of his bed. He wasn't ready to not hear the words back. Again. Or worse; for her to say them with eyes only for Jonathan.

There was a moment of hesitation from Jonathan while they joked before he visibly steeled himself. He joined Steve on the bed, close enough they were touching from their shoulders to their thighs. Steve's heart jumped to his throat again, but he didn't hesitate to lean back onto his hands. The position led to his arm brushing against Jonathan's back, and the rest of him fitting strangely well into Steve's side. It was a good thing neither of them could hear the way his heart was pounding in his chest.

"Hey," he said, careful to keep his voice soft. He wore a well-practiced smile; the one that came naturally when he sat like this with Nancy.

Jonathan swallowed. Steve tracked the movement of it, blinking when he realized what he was doing. He caught the moment that Jonathan's eyes darted in Nancy's direction. She must have done something to encourage him because his body seemed to mold against Steve's a moment later. "This okay?"

It was Steve's turn to swallow. He was really doing this.

"I know one thing that would make it better," he said. It was what he might say to Nancy, if she was the one next to him. Jonathan started to smile like he knew where Steve was going with it. For some reason, it made Steve feel better.

Nancy loved Jonathan. It was fast—though, was it really, if she'd wanted him for a year?—and she hadn't said the words yet. Not where Steve could hear, at least. But she did. Just as much as Steve didn't want to lose her, he wanted her to be happy; it was why he wouldn't have fought it if she hadn't agreed to try dating both of them. She wanted Jonathan to be happy and so far it seemed like Steve could somehow make that happen.

With all of that in mind, Steve leaned most of his weight on the hand behind Jonathan. It had him rolling just that little bit more into Steve's side. Jonathan watched him, gaze darting between Steve's eyes and lips and Steve's smile came naturally before he closed the rest of the distance and kissed him.

His heart thumped away in his chest. It briefly occurred to him that the weirdness he felt about this had very little to do with kissing a guy—kissing Jonathan—and more to do with the fact that he hadn't kissed anyone but Nancy in over a year. Then Jonathan's hand cupped his cheek and it was so much bigger than Nancy's. Than anyone who he'd ever been with before. A thrill went up his spine and he couldn't tell whether it was the good kind or not.

Jonathan smiled against his mouth before pulling away. Seeing the almost awed look on his face, Steve thought maybe it was the good kind. He swallowed again. That wasn't so bad. The kissing or the way Jonathan swept his thumb over Steve's cheek. It was actually—Steve knew he would do anything for Nancy. Had realized it the moment she decided he must have meant he wanted to be with both of them and he hadn't said anything to correct her. He hadn't expected to actually like it so much. Not right away.

Still smiling, Jonathan kissed him again. He pulled away long enough to nudge Steve further onto the bed. Steve followed, focusing on the relief of taking the weight off his tired arm. He thought about looking at Nancy; almost like Jonathan had been right before and he really should make sure this was okay. He couldn't do it, though. He didn't know what he would do if he did.

"You were right," Jonathan said, and Steve didn't think he'd ever heard him sound like that before. Happy. Teasing. Not with him.

"I—what?"

Jonathan laughed, and Steve felt himself beginning to smile without meaning to.

"That made it much better," he said, not giving Steve a chance to respond before covering Steve's body with his own and kissing him again.

There was a moment where Steve didn't know what to do with his hands. He felt like he had the first time he made out with Lisa Green in eighth grade. The weight of him and how Jonathan's chest felt pressed up against Steve's threw him off more than kissing him did. He was processing it for so long that Jonathan stopped, pulling back with furrowed brows.

"What's wrong?"

"Noth—" Steve started, clearing his throat when the word got caught. "Nothing."

He curled his fingers into the front of Jonathan's shirt. Jonathan watched him, probably felt the way Steve's heart was beating with how close they were. Shit, if he had already managed to screw this up—

Jonathan nodded. "Okay," he said, forehead still creased but his smile beginning to come back. Steve expected him to lean back in for another kiss. And Jonathan did lean back into his space, but only to rest his forehead against Steve's. His hand found its way to the back of Steve's head, dull nails scratching his scalp and the base of his neck. Steve closed his eyes against a sudden rush of vertigo.

Without thinking, he let go of Jonathan's shirt and gripped at his sides instead like that might help to steady him. It was becoming too much, but he didn't know what else to do except wait for the feeling to pass.

"You found his weakness," Nancy teased from somewhere beside him. Somehow, Steve had almost forgotten she was there. The bed dipped on his right as she stretched out next to them. Or, Steve assumed that was what she had done. He couldn't make himself open his eyes.

"I did, huh?" Jonathan asked with audible amusement. He scratched his nails over Steve's scalp again, briefly pressing their heads more firmly together. Then he shifted away until he was no longer blanketed over Steve. It gave Steve the chance to breathe again.

Jonathan didn't go far, taking up half of Steve's left side while Nancy crowded in on the right. He blinked, finally opening his eyes even though he wasn't sure he could handle looking at either of them yet. The sound he made came out without his permission, but he kept it as soft as he could. Neither of them seemed concerned and that was the most he could ask for. Nancy even chuckled quietly.

Her nails scratched through his hair at the top of his head, but when he looked she was smiling at Jonathan. Steve was too busy keeping himself together for the usual tightening of jealousy in his gut over it. It helped that she was stretched out beside him, touching his hair. She wanted Jonathan more, liked him better, and he wasn't lying when he said that he understood. But she still let him be here and that.

That was everything.

The thought helped him relax. It was a good thing, wasn't it? That he could get so caught up while kissing Jonathan. It meant that he really could do this.

Without removing her hand from his hair, Nancy leaned across him to kiss Jonathan. Jonathan's hand came to rest on his chest and Steve didn't know whether it was for balance or because he wanted to be touching him, too, the way Nancy was. The hand stayed even when they were done, both of them stretched out on either side of him.

Nancy was grinning when she tilted her head toward Steve's for a kiss of their own. Finally, something familiar. He brought one of his hands up to cup her face. Rested the other on top of Jonathan's and knew he'd done the right thing when Jonathan held him tighter.

This was good, he thought, as Nancy pulled away. Her hand found theirs on his chest and she rested her cheek on the top of his shoulder.

"This is nice," she said, and he could hear her smile even if he couldn't see it.

"Really nice," Jonathan said as he shifted again so that he could do the same, both of them lying with their heads on Steve's shoulders. Carefully, Steve removed his hand from between theirs so that he could get his arms around each of them.

"Yeah," Steve breathed. It was…different and he kind of wanted a moment by himself, but his body gradually began to relax with the heat from both of them seeping into his sides.

If he didn't think about any of it too hard, it was kind of nice.

Better than being alone.