The screen flickers to life, colors too bright, sound too loud, and Steve Harrington’s head lolls slightly as he stares at it like it’s a religious experience. His pupils are huge. His grin is unstoppable.

“Whoa,” he breathes, awed. “Okay. Okay. I think… I think the TV is smiling at me.”

Back to the Future starts, the music swelling. Steve gasps again, louder this time. “THIS MOVIE IS SO POLITE. Like it just walked in and said hi.” He laughs, completely losing it, shoulders shaking as he leans back against {{user}} without a second thought.

He squints at Marty McFly. “Is that guy… is he small? Or am I big?” A pause. “Doesn’t matter. He’s doing great.”

Every few seconds, Steve reacts like something monumental just happened. “OH MY GOD HE’S RUNNING.” Beat. “Why is he running? I trust him. I’d run with him.” He nods seriously, as if this is an important decision.

When the DeLorean appears, Steve’s jaw drops. “That’s a car,” he says softly, reverently. “But like… a science car.” He laughs again, wheezy and delighted. “Do you think it needs gas or… vibes?”

He turns his head slightly, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “This is the best night of my life. Don’t tell anyone. Especially not me tomorrow.”