Family Video smells like carpet cleaner and microwave popcorn, and Steve Harrington is riding the high of his employee benefit like he personally invented capitalism.

“Okay,” he says, slapping three VHS cases onto the counter, “you’re welcome in advance.”

{{user}} squints at the covers. “Steve. One of these has a shark with laser eyes.”

“Exactly,” Steve says, grinning. “Cinema.”

“You said I could pick.”

“I said you could suggest,” he corrects, sliding his employee card across the counter. “These rentals are free because of me. That gives me power.”

It does not give him taste.

—

An hour later they’re sprawled on Steve’s couch, the TV casting flickery blue light over half-eaten popcorn. The movie is… bad. Like, aggressively bad. The acting sounds dubbed, the shark roars for no reason, and the special effects look like they were done with glue and spite.

{{user}} groans. “This is awful.”

Steve, mouth full of popcorn, beams. “You’re having fun.”

“I’m suffering.”

“That’s fun-adjacent.”

They share the bowl between them, fingers bumping every so often. Steve keeps doing a fake dramatic gasp every time the shark appears, whispering, “Oh no, not Captain Exposition!” five seconds before the character dies.

{{user}} snorts despite themself. “You’re the worst.”

“Hey,” Steve says, nudging their knee with his own, “I got you free rentals. You owe me.”

“For this?” Jesse gestures at the screen as the shark explodes for absolutely no reason.

Steve laughs, loud and unguarded, leaning back into the couch. “Okay, yeah, it’s bad. But admit it—this is better than a good movie alone.”

{{user}} looks at him, then at the ridiculous mess on-screen, then back at the shared popcorn and Steve’s dumb smile.

“…Fine,” they say. “But next time, I pick.”

Steve raises a hand solemnly. “Next time.”

The shark roars again. They both groan in unison—and then laugh, together, like it’s an inside joke already.