𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 4.7k

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑 of hanging out at his house. Her dad still hadn't gotten around to fixing their air conditioning unit, and she could only spend so much time at the public pool before the sound of children squealing drove her insane.

The first time Owen appeared at his doorstep wasn't even a week after their run-in at the community pool.

Steve was pretty surprised to see her, having received no indication that she was on her way. He was just grateful that she caught him on one of his days off. The thought of her arriving at his empty house and having to turn back around to head home made his heart ache. Especially since she had shown up with her long, blonde hair in braids down her back and a rosy flush across her nose and cheeks, looking pretty as ever.

Neither of Steve's parents were home, as usual, which allowed him and Owen to take advantage of his color television in his living room. She was thrilled to take advantage of the Harringtons' extensive list of available channels, immediately turning on the MTV Top 20 Video Countdown. Steve was more excited to be able to steal glimpses of her enthralled profile from the other side of the couch, spotting the way her eyes would get all wide and starry when Michael Jackson would appear on screen.

That's about how every day went after that.

Owen would come over, either on Steve's days off or after work, and they would just... hang out. Sure, their activity of the day would change, but they were just happy as long as they were doing it together. They would sit and watch television, they would make lunch as Steve played some of his favorite albums for her, and one day, they even took a long bike ride around the sleepy, old town.

But Steve's favorite day was the day the two of them just sat in his bed together. Owen was flipping through her library-borrowed book as Steve's head rested upon her lap. He had busied himself with bouncing an old tennis ball off of the ceiling, a sound Owen had managed to drown out. But even though her eyes were intensely fixated on the page in front of her, her free hand absentmindedly combed through the flowing strands of his hair.

He tried to seem totally unaffected by the tender moment, but like with every other day they spent together, he couldn't stop himself from peeking at her just to satiate that new, infatuated side of himself.

Meanwhile, it was the comfort that came from being around Steve that fascinated Owen. She couldn't recall a time in which she had ever felt so at ease with someone who wasn't one of her brothers. At some point, she noticed that she was always on guard, trying to protect herself and those she loved from getting hurt, embarrassed, or misunderstood. Even with her other friends, like Nancy, she still felt that she was on edge to some degree, a constant vigilance that could be exhausting.

Although she couldn't pinpoint exactly where things had shifted, Owen no longer felt the need to put up an emotional wall between herself and Steve. It was like her trust in him had come so slowly, so organically that it had even snuck up on her. Or maybe that's just what happens when you go through a bunch of traumatic shit together.

Whatever the case, Owen was happy to have a friend like Steve, even if her heart did this weird, painful, little squeeze every time she called him a friend. Something about him felt like so much more than that. Even best friend didn't feel like the most appropriate word at times. But if being someone's best friend meant that their head would rest in her lap as she read a Thomas Hardy book, then that was okay with her.

However, there was one night at the Harringtons' house that permanently shifted the way Steve and Owen acted around one another.

Owen had shown up at Steve's door after one of his shifts at Scoops. It was pretty late, but it was one of those summer nights when the sun didn't seem to want to set. The light outside was peachy and glowy, framing Owen and the golden wisps of hair that danced around her face as she stood upon his doorstep in a simple pair of short overalls. There was just something about her on that specific night that was so irresistible, so sweet, that she hardly felt real.

That evening, the two of them had carefully climbed their way onto the roof that overlooked his family's pool. They wanted to see the way the sun finally dipped beneath the trees, seemingly swapping places with the stars. As they sat together, Steve couldn't tear his eyes away from her, her bare knees pulled up to her chest with her chin resting upon them.

"What are your plans after this summer?" he asked quietly, putting words into the air and actually giving himself a reason to stare at her. However, Steve wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. His less-than-spectacular grades had prevented him from getting into even the lowest of technical schools, granting him no way out of their shitty small town. The thought of Owen potentially taking off in the middle of August and leaving him in Hawkins made him feel sick.

She hummed softly, mulling over her words before she spoke. His large, round eyes watched her in anticipation. "Everyone's number one question right now, huh?" she quipped, a sad smirk on her lips as she turned to him. Steve gave an apologetic, half-smile of his own, aware that he sounded like every parent, teacher, and guidance counselor within a fifty-mile radius.

Owen sucked in a quick breath, leaning back on her palms. "I don't know, honestly. Nothing, I guess?" she shrugged. "Maybe it sounds bad, but... I just never thought about college. It just seemed like some kind of pipe dream."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Her lips twisted in thought. "I mean, you've seen my house. It's not like we have oodles of money. We barely even have enough to send Gordon through school, but... he's a literal genius. Like, if any of us were going to earn enough someday to pay off the debt, it would be him. And if there's even a cent of money left after that, then it's Law who deserves to go to college. Even now, he's totally brilliant."

"Hey, you're pretty brilliant, too," Steve asserted. "I don't know anybody else who reads classic literature for fun."

Owen laughed lightly, looking away from him to stare up at the darkening sky. "I appreciate that, but I'm not smart like them. In fact... I'm very average," she muttered with a breathless chuckle.

"Average will get you into tech, at least," Steve sighed, averting his eyes, too. "My entire life, I thought I was just going to work at my dad's company. But getting rejected from every single school I applied to really pissed him off. I mean, you should've seen him." Owen turned, studying the disappointment written across his features. "Now, I think I'd be lucky to even intern at his place."

"Is that even what you wanted to do, though? Work for your dad for the rest of your life?" She had a hard time believing that – especially after hearing about all the times Steve and his dad butted heads.

Steve shrugged. "Maybe... no. I don't know."

Owen grinned, peering at him from the corner of her eye. "Sounds like you really had your mind made up," she joked. A wistful smile crossed his face, one that told her his mind was suddenly elsewhere – even beyond college.

"I just don't want to end up like them, y'know?" He turned to face her, a conviction in his eye that made her nod in understanding. "I want to be different."

Owen's eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up at his sparkly dark eyes. "Me too," she said, softly.

It was right then, under the Indiana night sky, that Owen realized why she hated being called Steve's best friend. With the blue light of the pool illuminating his features — features that she had come to know like the back of her hand — she was struck with the realization that she may actually like Steve as more than a friend. Romantically, even!

In fact, the longer she stared at him, the more it solidified in her mind. She was totally tears-for-fears-head-over-heels for this guy who thought of her as his best friend!

What a nightmare.

She attempted to inconspicuously turn away from him, chewing nervously at her lower lip. Distantly, she could hear Steve talking to her, but it felt like her head had been shoved under water. Owen was far too busy psychoanalyzing every conversation the two of them had ever had to pay attention to what he was saying.

She was only brought out of her whirlwind of thoughts when she heard him say something about a job. "Huh?" she asked dumbly, looking back over at him with raised eyebrows.

"I said, if you don't have any other plans this summer, I can talk to my boss about getting you a job at Scoops. You could sling ice cream with me and Robin for the rest of the summer," Steve repeated, excitedly.

Normally, Owen would have jumped at the opportunity, excited to work at an easy job with fun people. But with the sudden onset of this crush on Steve, working alongside him and repressing said crush seemed like hell on earth. But her police station money had run out a while ago and she was in serious need of some kind of income. So, she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile. "Sure. That sounds great," Owen begrudgingly agreed with a quick nod.

This just sent Steve into a whole retelling of the funny shit that had happened at Scoops Ahoy over the past month. He told her all about Robin, his kind-of-annoying-kind-of-funny co-worker who went to their school. Even as they climbed off of the roof and back into the house, he was still telling her all about the various customers who frequented the establishment.

Owen mindlessly wandered downstairs, Steve trailing at her heel and talking a mile a minute, completely oblivious to the revelation she was working through. After sitting on the roof above the pool for the past hour, she just wanted to see the cool, still water up close. Maybe that would ground her emotions for the time being. She pushed the sliding glass doors open and stepped outside, the muggy nighttime air and chirping of crickets closing in on her.

She meandered over to the pool's edge, hearing the way the water lapped against the concrete perimeter. It looked almost exactly as it had the night Barb went missing. It was strange, how something could remain the exact same, yet be so different, so altered. Owen's mind was so far away that she didn't register that Steve had stopped talking.

He stood next to her, hands propped on his hips as they gazed down into the water. "You know, you still haven't taken me up on my pool day offer," Steve pointed out, a teasing grin on his face as he looked over at her.

"Well, I've been pretty busy..." Owen lied, still unable to bring herself to look in his direction. But the squawky laugh slash scoff that Steve let out was enough to garner a single, confused glance his way. "Busy? Yeah, busy at my house," he reminded her. "You've spent practically every day here since you got back from Detroit."

She attempted to sputter out an argument, but he was right, unfortunately.

"How about we take a dip right now? A little spontaneous night swim?" Steve propositioned, his eyebrows wiggling in her peripheral vision.

Owen's eyebrows knitted together as she turned to face him. "I don't have a swimsuit," she stated, blinking owlishly at him.

The way his lips curled was utterly mischievous.

"Me either."

Then, Steve was reaching to grab the back of his shirt, pulling the fabric off and over his head. Something about the way he did it was so erotic for something so everyday. And god, there was suddenly so much skin on display. Owen's eyes settled on the patch of dark hair in the middle of his chest, the same hair she had seen the other day at the pool.

Except, she didn't remember it being nearly as attractive then. She certainly didn't recall tracing the downwards trail of hair with her eyes in the way she was doing right then. Owen swallowed thickly as he began to slip his shoes off...

And holy fucking shit, was this guy seriously sliding his little denim shorts off? Right in front of her?

Owen had to force herself to look away. She felt wrong just watching him undress like that. After all, Steve was human, too! He deserved his privacy. She didn't turn back around until she heard the sound of him hitting the water, droplets landing on her bare legs from the way he had cannonballed in.

But then she was left standing at the edge of the pool, fully dressed and totally confused. What the hell was she supposed to do now? Steve popped back up out of the water, flipping his long hair back and out of his face. Owen knew she was seriously doomed when he made eye contact with her, looking like that and boyishly smiling at her.

"The water's nice..." Steve said in a sing-songy, tempting tone.

Owen glanced down at her attire again, evaluating how many pieces she could keep on in an attempt to preserve her dignity. There really weren't many to choose from as is — a little tank top and her overalls were her only options. She chewed at the inside of her cheek, coming to terms with the thought of shedding the denim.

"If I'm gonna get in, you've got to look away until I'm fully in the water, okay?" she instructed him, forcefully. She hoped that the no-nonsense look on her face was visible from where he was.

Steve's hands defensively shot up out of the water. "Hey, you've got my word, Webb. As a matter of fact..." he trailed off, slowly turning his back to her.

Owen stared at his back, running through all of her options one last time. Theoretically, she could just take off running back home and leave him alone in his big, fancy pool. Or maybe she could just jump in fully-dressed like he, Nancy, and the others had done that night in '83.

Or... she could just suck it up and halfway skinny dip with her best friend. That seemed to be the most obvious option. Her nerves and insecurity were just getting the best of her. Owen just tried to remind herself of how comfortable Steve had made her feel in every other situation before this. Hell, she felt less nervous fending off demodogs with him at the junkyard. Swimming with him would be no different.

Pushing her worries into the back of her mind, Owen stooped to the ground, untying her Converse and slipping them off. She sat them off to the side and tucked her socks inside of them. The concrete was cool beneath her bare feet as her hands reached up to unclasp her overalls. She slid the denim down her thighs, the heavy material hitting the ground below her with a soft thud.

She decided to leave her tank top on, treating it like a safety blanket of sorts. Standing at the very edge of the pool in her underwear and a thin tank top, she closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. True to his word, Steve hadn't moved an inch since he turned his back, giving her all the time she needed.

Finally, Owen dove into the pool, the water colder on her skin than she would have anticipated. When she emerged from the surface and opened her eyes, she couldn't do a thing to stifle the smile that formed on her lips. Steve was still standing with his back to her, water droplets decorating the smooth skin. Always so patient, so respectful.

"You can turn around now," Owen announced through a string of giggles.

Steve felt like the breath had been knocked out of him when he turned to face Owen again. Her hair was all wet and pushed back, giving him a complete view of the face he knew so well. A face that he had wasted so much time avoiding and disdaining, especially in the weeks following their less-than-ideal first encounter.

But at times like this, Steve couldn't understand how others didn't notice how devastatingly beautiful Owen Webb was, how those people were totally missing it. In fact, he had recently been beating himself up for not realizing it sooner. Because right then, she was an angel in his swimming pool, laughing at him for something he had done and already forgotten about.

Much like he had at the Sadie Hawkins dance, Steve unthinkingly swam closer to her, propelled forward by that same urge to see her up-close. But this time, she wasn't looking at him with that vexed look in her eye. It was something else entirely. He was close enough to see the summertime dusting of freckles across her nose when he recognized the apprehension written across her face. A look that was nearly identical to the one she had given during their slow dance.

Proximity wasn't Owen's strong suit, he knew that.

So, Steve kept some space between them, noticing the way her shoulders visibly relaxed. While his eyes were there, they trailed down the bare expanse of her shoulder, closing in on where her arm met the water. Through the warping ripples on the surface, Steve could make out the striped pattern of Owen's tank top as it sat against her skin.

Then, his mind flashed to the sound of her overalls hitting the concrete, presumably the same place that they were right in that moment. Specifically, not on her. The mere realization that he and Owen were this close and in nothing more than their underwear made Steve's heart beat all weird in his chest.

What a lucky bastard he was.

Pushing back against the temptation to stare at her any longer, Steve leaned back, allowing himself to lazily float on top of the water's surface. He watched the stars overhead, making himself busy by trying to track down the Big Dipper. That was the only constellation he could recognize, anyway. But he gave up the search when he registered that Owen was moving to float beside him, her feet next to his head.

Steve cleared his throat. "You know, maybe this is selfish, but... I'm glad you're not leaving after this summer," he confessed, keeping his gaze fixed on the sky. Perhaps it would be easier to talk to her if he didn't have to look at her.

Owen was quiet for a moment, making Steve worried that he couldn't hear her through the water in their ears. "I don't think it's selfish. I think it's nice to know that someone gives a shit about me," she replied, her voice all muffled.

But Steve understood. It was Owen, so of course, he understood.

"Well, I do. Give a shit about you, I mean," Steve acknowledged, his wording making her chuckle lightly. It was so much more than that, though. Part of him wished she knew how much of a shit he gave about her.

"The feeling's mutual, Harrington."

His throat burned as hot tears accumulated against his eyelashes. Steve wondered if Owen could hear how hard his heart was beating. Because at the root of it all, Steve really was just a love-starved kid, easily overwhelmed by even the simplest expressions of affection.

And lately, Owen had done so much more than just simply satiate him. She had spent more time with him this summer than his parents had in years. She listened to his favorite albums and played with his hair in that way he liked. She paid attention when he spoke and really listened to him. And now, here she was, proudly professing that she gave a shit about him.

All of it combined had Steve ready to spill his guts, to tell her all about his enormous crush on her. Right there, in the pool, in their underwear.

Steve swiftly sat upright, his legs swinging back under him. The rush of water met Owen's ears, catching her attention as Steve went vertical beside her. She mirrored him, pushing out of their floating position. The nervous, thoughtful look on his face was enough to pique her curiosity.

The two treaded water in the deep end of his pool, eyes locked on one another's over the surface. They were close enough for their breath to mingle in the air between them, but Owen was so focused on the boy in front of her that she barely noticed their proximity.

"Owen, I... I just, I want you to know..." Steve started, voice noticeably shaky. Her eyebrow twitched upwards surreptitiously, really unsure where he was going with this. "I just want you to know that I care about you, alright?"

She bobbed her head in a quick, encouraging nod, just to let him know she was listening. He took a deep breath, looking away from her for a moment. Owen could see that he was struggling with whatever he wanted to tell her. So, she attempted to console him in a way that he had done with her. Slowly, her hand waded through the water, fingers gently making contact with his bicep. The touch brought Steve's gaze back towards her, feeling the way her hand comfortingly squeezed the muscle.

"Hey... it's just me," Owen murmured, repeating his reassuring words from the Sadie Hawkins back to him.

But something had shifted in Steve's eyes, a subtle change that Owen picked up on immediately. This was a look that she didn't recognize on him, an expression she had never seen directed at her before. With how intently she was studying his face, she was quick to notice the way he peered down at her lips, an act that made her heart begin to pound behind her ribcage. He had certainly never looked at her like that before.

His hand was slow as it pushed through the water, bridging the distance between their bodies. Steve's hand wrapped around the small of her back, his flat palm pressing against the bare skin there. Owen suddenly noticed the fact that her own hand had never retreated from his upper arm, her fingers still delicately wrapped around the impressive muscle there.

Steve expertly used the hand on her back to pull her against him, removing every bit of water and space between them. Owen's arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, now forced to rely on him to keep herself afloat.

Not that she was complaining. There was something kind of addicting about the way he felt against her, every inch of him pressed along every inch of her.

But Owen was still Owen, always trying to grasp the full understanding of every situation she found herself in. And this situation with Steve? Especially bewildering.

"Steve..." His name on her lips was just above a whisper, a hushed question wrapped up in a single word. He had been trying to say something to her before, something that had gotten seemingly thrown out the window when she touched him.

For an instant, her voice brought him out of his trance, reminding him that he was supposed to be professing his feelings for her. But she had been looking at him with such a sweet, innocent look in her eye that he momentarily lost his goddamn mind. And now, they were so close that their noses bumped each other's once, twice, three times.

"Owen, you know you're my best friend..." Steve tried to continue, his voice coming out rougher than either of them expected. His lips hovered just in front of hers, within her reach if she wanted to press forward. His other hand practically moved on its own accord, smoothing from her waist, down to the soft, tantalizing curve of her hip. His fingers danced along her thigh, stopping only at the bend of her knee to urge her to wrap herself even further around him.

Even though his words didn't match his actions in that moment, Owen still followed along, both legs hooking around his tapered hips. And god, if she thought she could feel all of him before...

She barely felt like she was within her own body at that point, mind swirling with all of the possibilities and consequences of their actions. Consequences. There were consequences, weren't there? Owen's eyebrows knitted together as she collided with the real world, her own mind forcefully bringing her back to her senses.

Her eyes refocused on the boy in front of her, examining him with a logical eye. Of course, this wasn't just any boy.

This was Steve, her Steve. They had fought monsters together, babysat together, faced a wall of intimidating government agents together. He had listened just intently when she explained her origin at Hawkins Lab as he had when she relayed each detail of a Vonnegut novel. He was there for her in the monster-infested junkyard and at her first school dance. He was the guy who would pay her younger brother just to ensure her birthday present from him was wrapped.

But Steve was still just a boy and she was a girl in her underwear in front of him.

Was she willing to throw all of their history and friendship away for a kiss brought on by nothing more than his raging, teenage hormones? Her first kiss, no less?

With the feelings she had for Steve, Owen knew that if she kissed him right then, she wouldn't be able to just continue on with their friendship. She couldn't willingly put herself through such torture.

So, even though her heart desperately protested, one of Owen's hands slid from over his shoulder, pressing firmly against the soft hair on his chest. She used as much strength as she could muster to push him away from her, her gaze lowered shamefully.

"I... should probably head home. My dad is probably worried about me."

Steve's blinks were heavy as he allowed Owen to untangle herself from him. Even with his mind all hazy, he knew that she was telling a lie. A bad lie, at that. Steve knew better than to believe that Owen's dad actually cared where she was right then. She had been missing for almost an entire weekend last year and Steve watched as he greeted her with a carefree 'Hey, kiddo!'

Steve's eyebrows furrowed as he watched her speedily climb the pool ladder. He hadn't even said what he wanted to tell her yet.

"Wait, but Owen-"

"I had a really great time. Thanks for inviting me."

"No, seriously. Just-"

"Just let me know what your boss says about Scoops, okay?"

Steve's jaw was slack as he watched Owen slide her overalls back up her legs and shove her bare feet into her Converse, stuffing the socks into her pocket just to get out of there faster. All he could bring himself to do was speechlessly watch as she hurried towards the front of his house, presumably running back home.

His head fell back against his shoulders as he let out a loud groan. One of his hands frustratedly smacked against the water, sending droplets flying everywhere. Mostly, he was angry with himself for letting his stupid, horny, teenage boy brain get the best of him yet again! He had meant to give Owen this long, meaningful speech about how much he cared about her and how he wanted to take their relationship to the next level, but had gotten too distracted with feeling up on her for some godforsaken reason.

All Steve knew was that he had to make it up to her somehow because Owen certainly deserved better than that.

His first step?

Getting her that job at Scoops.