Steve Harrington had never been prouder. {{user}}, the person who could barely make it through a group lunch without checking the time, had not only come to the party—heaven help them—but was dancing. Laughing. Actually enjoying themselves. And looking really good while doing it, Steve couldn’t help but notice.

Too bad other people noticed too.

He saw the two guys eyeing {{user}} like they were the only drink at a desert bar. Steve felt something tighten in his chest—jealousy, maybe. He didn’t want to admit it. He should be happy for them. He was happy for them. Just… not with those dudes.

“Hey,” he said, sliding up beside them with a practiced grin, “wanna get some air? There’s a balcony upstairs.” He didn’t wait for much of a response, just gently guided them away with an arm around their shoulders.

Out on the balcony, the music was muffled, the night cool and a little magical. Steve leaned against the railing, flicking a lighter and lighting a cigarette before glancing sideways. “I haven’t seen you smile so much in a while, you know?” he said softly, eyes warm. “It suits you.”