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"I told you I didn't see what it was."
Steve kicked the door closed behind him after the three of them walked into the cabin that had been their home away from home on this disaster of a vacation. He told himself that Jonathan wasn't being a dick on purpose. The guy was just as much of a mess of worry and fear and guilt that Steve was. They had been arguing with each other again when she got hurt, only this time Nancy had thrown her hands in the air in frustration and decided not to step in to shut it down.
If repeating the same question over and over (and over) again made Jonathan feel better, Steve wasn't going to give him shit over it.
That didn't mean Steve had to like having that anger directed at him.
Jonathan led the way to the bed, Nancy and Steve matching each step. Nancy made a pained sound that ramped up the guilt already gnawing at Steve's insides when they got her settled on top of the blanket. Body tense from head to toe, Steve made it to the bathroom in a few strides, intent on getting something to clean off whatever it was that had gotten all over her. There were plenty of towels and decent hot water, despite the resort he'd chosen being in the mountains in the winter.
The cabin was gorgeous and came stocked with everything they could possibly need—except for a second bed. There had been some sort of mix up that would have had Steve's father creating scene after scene over. In all the years Steve's family had used this as a home away from home during holidays while he was growing up, he'd heard his father causing problems for the staff enough to know how it would sound.
Despite paying for this part of the vacation himself, Steve refused to be anything like his father. Even if that meant being stuck in a one bedroom cabin with his ex and her boyfriend.
Did his back appreciate opting to sleep on the floor for the last week? No. But that had been the least of his worries since Nancy first mentioned wanting to get out of Hawkins—and asking Steve to tag along. And since he had been the one to insist on staying somewhere so remote—he'd thought it would be preferable to a busy city someplace where they would be constantly checking over their shoulders, but maybe that was just him—it only made sense for him to give them to bed.
Not to mention, Nancy and Jonathan were a couple. Steve couldn't tell them not to sleep in the same bed when they had been together for years (no matter how much it hurt every morning to see how they gravitate towards each other through the night).
Squeezing out the excess water from the first clean washcloth he'd seen, Steve emerged from the bathroom to find Jonathan sitting at Nancy's side. He had shed his jacket and shoes, and even helped Nancy with hers while Steve was gone. His forehead was creased in worry as he watched Nancy closely and Steve softened.
"Here," he said, keeping his voice low.
Jonathan blinked up at him in confusion—probably at the sudden lack of bite in Steve's tone. There was no reason to make him feel worse than he already did. Than they both did. If they hadn't been bickering, Nancy wouldn't have gotten hurt. The least Steve could do now was try not to provoke him again.
Eyebrows coming together to meet in the middle, Jonathan reached for the towel with a quiet thanks. Steve took the chance to slip out of his own jacket and shoes next; the cabin was made for the cold weather and he was getting too warm under the extra layers.
His nerves over whether Nancy was all right weren't helping, either.
Nancy batted at the towel when Jonathan used it to clean her up. Steve's chest went tight, and his throat along with it, at the sight of her looking so dazed. If it wasn't for the clear evidence that something had gotten all over her, he would have thought for sure she'd slipped and hit her head.
"She's burning up," Jonathan said, covering the top of her head with his hand. His thumb rubbed up and down her forehead in a soothing motion Steve recognized; he'd seen Jonathan do the same with Will when he wasn't feeling well.
Swallowing hard, Steve turned towards the kitchen this time. There was ice in the freezer and he popped a few cubes into another towel. After running it under some cool water, he headed back to Jonathan and Nancy. Outside the windows, snow was falling fast and hard and Steve spared a thought to be grateful that they weren't stuck walking out in that weather anymore.
Jonathan took it with another quiet thank you before setting it over Nancy's forehead. She visibly shuddered, her whole face scrunching up under the change in temperature.
"No, off," she whined, and Steve thought at first she meant the towel. Fevers always left him feeling cold; having something even colder placed on her head probably didn't feel great, even if he thought it would help.
But she surprised him—both of them—by sitting up and making quick work of getting out of both her jacket and shirt, leaving her sitting in her bra and jeans, sweat glistening against her skin in the warm yellow light of the cabin.
"Nancy, wait, Nancy," Jonathan grabbed hold of her hands when she moved to take her jeans off next. Wide eyed and alarmed, Steve was caught between turning around (he wasn't her boyfriend anymore; neither she nor Jonathan would be very happy about Steve seeing her half naked) and rushing forward to help.
"What're you—"
Nancy pulled Jonathan close and cut him off with a kiss. Dread mixed with jealousy in Steve's gut—usually Nancy and Jonathan were more quiet, more private with their affection while Steve was around in an attempt to spare his feelings. It didn't heal the break Nancy had left in his heart, but he appreciated their discretion.
For her to throw herself at Jonathan like this was incredibly out of character. Combined with the timing—she'd been covered in something when they found her out there—Steve was sure there had to be a connection somehow.
They'd left Hawkins to get away from crazy shit like this.
Steve coughed extra loud and Jonathan jolted back, embarrassment written all over his face. He had to stand to get away when Nancy kept trying to pull him back down, but froze when she made a pained sound. They exchanged a panicked look and Steve was so concerned about Nancy that it almost didn't feel weird to be sharing anything at all with her boyfriend.
"Jonathan," she said, leaning back against the headboard, staring up at him with glassy eyes. Her usually pale skin was tinted pink, and sweat made strands of hair stick to the sides of her face and along her forehead. "I need," she swallowed, "I need you to touch me. Please. It hurts."
Air escaped Steve's lungs in a heavy sigh. Nancy sounded like herself. Her voice was strained, she sounded hurt, but she didn't sound outside of herself the way the glassiness in her eyes suggested.
Jonathan moved to sit beside her but she held up one hand, shaking her head. "Skin to skin, I can't—I need to be able to feel you."
Without hesitation, Jonathan pulled his shirt off and joined her, lining their bodies up together. Nancy moaned and Steve knew he should take that as his cue to get out of here. The weather was too bad outside to stand in and wait for whatever this was to pass (what had started out as normal snowfall when they left for a walk had become more like a blizzard since they got back here), but he could wait it out in the kitchen or the bathroom.
Nancy didn't need an audience for this; and frankly, it hurt to see her (them) like this and not be able to help.
But Steve didn't move. Couldn't force his feet to take him out of the room. Not when he was worried that something else might happen the second he did.
Instead, he stood at the foot of the bed like the world's worst voyeur and waited for one of them to tell him he wasn't welcome.
"Better?" Jonathan asked, the flat of his palm resting on her stomach.
Nancy's fingers curled around his wrist in a white knuckled grip that had Steve wincing in sympathy. She was deceptively strong.
Face scrunching up, Nancy shook her head. Familiar frustration was audible when she said, "Better but not… It's not enough. I need…"
She shook her head again, eyes clamping shut as a shudder ran through her. Steve twitched in an aborted attempt to move closer. To reach out for her. To try and help.
It was enough movement to remind Jonathan that he was here and Steve braced himself to be sent away. For the first time since they got here, he wished the cabin wasn't quite so isolated. It was the perfect getaway, with more space outside than he knew what to do with (so much so that Steve had always been a little confused that his dad insisted they come here for winter vacation every year back when he was a kid, considering he hated spending time outdoors). The solitude, being away from people, was the main draw of this place; or so his father always told him. But it also meant that Steve really would be stuck hiding away in the bathroom or the kitchen when Jonathan told him to leave.
"Steve," Jonathan said, pausing like he was trying to work himself up to it. Steve didn't know why; it wasn't exactly a secret that Jonathan didn't enjoy his company on a good day, and this had already been far from one of those, even before Nancy got hurt. "Would you just get over here, please?"
Blinking, Steve ran the words through his head. Then again. He was sure he must have heard wrong or misunderstood somehow. There was no way Jonathan was asking him to join them.
But Nancy opened her eyes and nodded vigorously, moving closer to Jonathan to make room for Steve on her other side.
Steve hesitated, but only for a second, before giving in. Maybe he shouldn't have; maybe he should have left when he had the chance. But part of him (an ugly part, he was aware) was happy. That he would get to be close to her again. That he was being given the chance to touch her, even if it was only to keep her from hurting.
Despite that excitement, he tried to join them without taking his shirt off, but just like she had with Jonathan, Nancy held up her hand to stop him before he could get more than his knee on the bed beside her. With a brief glance at Jonathan, though Steve figured it didn't matter what he thought about it if this would give Nancy some relief, Steve reached for the hem of his shirt and tugged it up and over his head.
Settling in next to her should have been awkward, especially with Jonathan on her other side, but it wasn't. Nancy let out a shaky breath when Steve crowded in close, touching as much of their skin together as he could. Nancy rolled, curling forward to bury her face in Jonathan's neck, giving Steve the whole of her back to cover with his own.
Steve resisted the urge to press a kiss to the back of her head, or to breathe her in too deeply. As much as he still loved and wanted her, she had made her feelings about him clear (had looked at him with what he'd thought was longing, back when he confessed that she'd always been there in his dreams for the future, before running into Jonathan's arms the second he came back, without a single glance in Steve's direction).
He cupped her arm, petting her up and down in what he hoped was a soothing motion. Jonathan had his hand around the back of her neck, his thumb rubbing along the top of her jaw and just below her ear.
Besides the occasional shiver, Nancy seemed to be doing better, wrapped up between both of them.
For a while.
Steve didn't know how long they'd been lying like that before Nancy started moving. She tossed and turned like she couldn't get comfortable. Her skin grew hotter to the touch, more sweat beading along the back of her neck and at her hairline. Jonathan met Steve's eyes over her head, his expression a mirror of Steve's own concern.
"It's not enough." Nancy rolled onto her back, forcing them both to shift away to give her room to do so. Steve kept his hand on her arm and Jonathan's ended up back on her stomach. She groaned quietly, lifting her hips and blinking up at Jonathan. "Lower, I need you to touch me."
The tips of Jonathan's ears turned pink. There was no mistaking what she was asking for. Steve tilted his hips away, hoping the lack of skin-to-skin there would keep Nancy from noticing. The last thing he needed was for either of them to realize how turned on he was (because they might argue all the time, and Jonathan might hate him, but Steve knew deep down the reason he kept egging Nancy's boyfriend on had less to do with not liking him and more that he wanted his attention, and was willing to take it however he could get it).
"Nancy," Jonathan whispered, tone urgent. Sharp. Steve tried giving him the illusion of privacy, turning his head to stare anywhere but at either of them.
"Jonathan, please," she said. From the corner of his eye, Steve saw her cover Jonathan's hand with her own, urging him to touch her where she needed it most. "I know, I know, but I can't—it's not enough, I need more."
"Are you sure?" Jonathan asked, but he was already undoing the button of Nancy's jeans.
Steve held his breath. He almost pinched himself, sure this had to be a dream. How else could he have ended up here, in bed with his ex and her boyfriend (two people he'd fantasized about more times than he could count) and not getting kicked out the second Nancy's pants came off? He must have hit his head on a tree branch while on their hike or tripped and knocked himself out on a rock.
But none of his fantasies about them could ever be as clear as what was happening in front of him.
He couldn't help but suck in a breath at the moan of relief Nancy gave when Jonathan was finally touching her. Nancy reached up, curling her fingers in Steve's hair, clenching them when Jonathan's fingers slipped inside her.
Steve knew he shouldn't watch so closely. She needed him here, close, skin to skin, but that wasn't about Steve. It was whatever had gotten on her; whatever had given her the fever he could still feel coursing through her. He could have been anybody.
But he couldn't look away. Didn't want to. It was wrong, it was selfish. But he would never get a chance like this again.
It wasn't just Nancy. He'd seen her naked before; been the one to make her fall apart under him. Had fallen apart under her just as often—maybe more. But he had never seen Jonathan wrecked and spent; had hardly seen him even turned on with how little time they spent around each other (and how little PDA Nancy and Jonathan gave into in order to keep the awkwardness while around Steve at bay).
Surprise washed over Steve when Nancy tugged him closer, sliding her lips over his own and moaning into his mouth. He cupped her face on instinct, kissing her back, and waited, heart pounding, for Jonathan to intervene.
To Steve's continued surprise, he never did.
"More," Nancy said when she finally let Steve go. She looked from Steve to Jonathan, then back again. Dick straining against his jeans, Steve wanted nothing more than to give her exactly what she was asking for.
He didn't know how he managed to hold himself still. It was especially difficult when she asked, demanded again, but as much as he wanted to, that wasn't something he could give her. Not when he knew she didn't really want it; want him.
She sat up, and Jonathan and Steve followed because even if he couldn't give her what she wanted, Steve wasn't willing to hurt her by letting go. She shoved at Jonathan's pants until he got the message, then turned and kissed Steve again. He meant to push her away; lifted his arms to do just that.
In the end, he couldn't do it. Not when she held his face like he was something special, like he meant something. Even though he knew none of it was genuine, Steve couldn't bring himself to stop her.
He did try to give them space after she pulled away and kissed Jonathan instead, but Nancy caught hold of him before he could get more than an inch away.
"You need to…" Nancy swallowed and it was clear it took effort to force the words out, "stay. You need to keep touching me. Okay?"
Steve was nodding before she finished her sentence. What else could he do? She could ask anything (almost anything) of him and he would do it for her.
Even if that meant letting her drape herself over him, the back of her head resting on top of his shoulder, while Jonathan knelt over both of them. The tips of Jonathan's ears were still red, but now the color bled down his neck and to the top of his chest. Steve was transfixed at the sight.
He forced himself to curl his hands over Nancy's sides when Jonathan finally started moving, fucking Nancy up against him. If Steve didn't keep hold of her, he risked doing something stupid—more stupid than letting this happen in the first place.
Like grabbing the back of Jonathan's neck and kissing him over Nancy's head.
Nancy wrapped her legs around him, urging Jonathan to go harder, faster, and Steve had to close his eyes to keep from coming in his pants. Every thrust had her rubbing against him and he focused on the pricks of pain where her nails dug into his arm to keep from tipping over the edge himself.
She tugged his hand up and Steve swallowed, letting her guide it down her stomach and lower. His knuckles brushed against Jonathan's stomach, too, and Steve nearly swallowed his tongue when she urged him to touch her and Jonathan's dick was at his fingertips.
Still, he couldn't deny her and muscle memory took over; it had been years since he'd had sex with Nancy but there was no way he could ever forget what got her off. Not after so long spent memorizing it, making sure she was never left wanting.
When it came to their sex life, at least. Everything else… Well, at least he had always been good at this one thing.
The angle had to be awkward, but Nancy reached back, gripping the back of Steve's head with one hand and burying her fingers in Jonathan's hair with the other. Her breaths came faster as she reached the edge and Steve could imagine how it must feel for Jonathan, how she had to be tightening around him as her whole body went tense and she shuddered between them.
Steve rubbed her through it but slipped his hand away before Jonathan came. He didn't think he would get out of this with his sanity intact if he felt it that close up; it was already a toss up as to whether he would now.
Jonathan cupped Nancy's cheek, staring into her eyes. The kiss they shared was gentler than anything he'd seen so far and Steve's heart ached at the sight of it. She had to be better now; Steve braced himself again for this to be over (to be told to leave).
And again, he was surprised.
Nancy planted her hands against Jonathan's chest and pushed him up, just enough to give her space to flip herself around. Steve froze, hands in the air at her sides. It made no sense to be afraid to touch her after what they'd just been doing, but he couldn't help it.
This was different. He couldn't explain why, but it was.
His eyes squeezed shut when she ground down against him.
"Nancy," he wrapped his hand around one of her arms. Not tight enough to hurt her, not even enough to slow her down. But he needed to do something. Make her think this through. "You don't want this. It's just, it's just that—"
She cut him off with a kiss and it was as gentle as the one she'd shared with Jonathan only seconds ago. Sighing through his nose, Steve leaned into it.
"I do," she insisted when she pulled away. "Steve, look at me."
His eyes snapped open without his permission.
"I do want this," she told him, sounding just as lucid as she had at the start, if a little winded. Steve wanted to believe her. Wanted to think that it mattered that he was the person with them; that if it had been anyone else, she would have told them to leave, pain be damned.
But it felt too good to be true.
"I've wanted this for years," she said, running her fingers through the hair on his chest. Her skin was still flushed all over, but not so hot to the touch. He couldn't tell if that meant the fever was breaking or if he was too warm to be able to feel it.
"We both have," Jonathan said, reluctance dripping from every word.
Not like he was lying, to make this easier on Steve, though. There was an undercurrent of embarrassment (Steve didn't know how he could still feel embarrassment after fucking Nancy on top of Steve, but emotions were hardly ever rational) that was only more apparent when Steve tried to meet his eyes.
"But you hate me."
Maybe it wasn't smart to remind Jonathan of that, but Steve didn't know how else to react. There was no way that could be true; not when Jonathan had always made his animosity just as clear as Nancy had made her disinterest.
"If I hated you, we wouldn't be on this vacation in the first place."
Nancy rubbed against Steve again, kissing his mouth, his jaw, down his neck. He sucked in a breath when she bit down (and hoped there would be a mark there when this was all over).
"You're always, ah, arguing with me," Steve managed to gasp out, holding Nancy tighter to keep from reaching down and shoving his pants out of their way.
The embarrassment on Jonathan's face only became more pronounced, his shoulders drawing up to his ears.
Nancy cut in. "He likes the attention."
Caught by surprise, Steve gave a strained laugh.
"Fuck," he said, nearly stuttering when Nancy reached between them and undid his pants. He let himself do the stupid thing, grabbing Jonathan by the back of the neck and finally, finally, kissing him.
Nancy didn't bother shoving Steve's pants down all the way. Steve fell back with a gasp when she wrapped her hand around him and dug his fingers into her waist when she sat down, taking him in like this wasn't the first time they'd done this in years. She shuddered and he brushed hair out of her face. "You okay?"
She shook her head, nodded, shook it again. "It's t-too much, but I—"
Steve hoped whatever this was would be out of her system soon. He let her set the pace; couldn't do anything less. It felt like too much to him and he hadn't even come yet, though he'd been close.
Jonathan stayed draped along her back, alternating between petting Nancy's arm and Steve's, like he couldn't decide who he wanted to touch more. He trailed kisses across Nancy's shoulders, eyes locked with Steve's the whole time and Steve's toes curled at the attention just as much as how good it felt to be inside of Nancy.
"Jonathan, please," Nancy panted and Steve knew she meant for Jonathan to be the one to get her off this time.
He cursed, desperately trying to hold himself back, but the first brush of Jonathan's fingers across his stomach was all it took. Steve's mind went quiet as he came, filled only with the image of Nancy and Jonathan, faces flush with want.
Nancy wasn't far behind, tightening around him while Jonathan worked her through it. She collapsed over top of him, her hair all over the place, and didn't make a sound when Jonathan dropped down beside them.
"I can't feel my legs," Jonathan groaned and relief swept over Steve when Nancy gave a tired laugh.
"Sorry," Nancy said, turning to face him. Her tone was light but Steve could hear the genuine apology underneath.
He rubbed his hand down her back, kissing the top of her head.
"I'll live," Jonathan said, lifting himself up on one elbow to comb Nancy's hair out of her eyes. "You're not hot anymore."
Nancy gave a mock gasp. "Rude."
Jonathan laughed, Steve joining in a second later. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Fever must have broken," Steve said, tracing random shapes against Nancy's skin. He felt relaxed for the first time in weeks (months, years), and sleep was already threatening to pull him under.
He fought against it as much as he could, but even years later, Nancy knew him too well. She pushed herself up and off of him, her head coming to rest on his shoulder while Jonathan spooned her from behind.
"Go to sleep, Steve," she said, scratching her fingers lightly down his chest. Her lips were warm, but not overly so, when she kissed his cheek. "We'll talk when you wake up."
"Y'sure?" he asked, squinting tired eyes at both of them.
Jonathan's fond smile gave him butterflies.
"We're sure."
He fell asleep to Nancy's hands on his chest and Jonathan's breathing in his ears and knew when he woke back up later, that things were going to be okay.