The Good Fight (But Probably Not)

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/39797106.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: Gen
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Relationship: Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington
Character: Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, Tommy Hagan, Carol Perkins
Additional Tags: Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Steve Harrington Angst, Good Friend
Robin Buckley, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Cuddling, Tommy
Hagan Being an Asshole, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slurs, Implied
Sexual Content
Series: Part 3 of Steve and Robin: Victims of Pure Bullshit
Stats: Published: 2022-06-21 Words: 2223

The Good Fight (But Probably Not)

by Thatguywhocantwrite

Summary

Steve is hurting, of course he is. He's bumped into Tommy Hagan. So he has every right to
to hurt. And his knuckles are probably broken, so that's another reason.

Notes

Tommy is A DICK! Slurs a bit later. If you don't want to read that, I write other things.
Hell, other writers write non edgy shit. Go read that. Robin and Steve fluff is the goat. I
can't write fluff. Anyway, homophobic slurs.

1983... At some point

Steve prodded at the frog guts on his table with the knife in his hand. Science sucked. "This is
fucking disgusting." Steve said, nudging the innard around his bowl with the cooking utensil.
"What is?" Tommy asked. Steve nodded down to the gut in his bowl. Tommy made a fake gagging
noise and glared at Steve before he began laughing hysterically. Carol tried to join in but choked
on a large portion of gum causing Steve to start laughing too. "You three, what's so funny?" Shit.

November 27th 1985

Steve slid down onto his floor, nursing his knuckle with one of his absent father's beer bottles.
They were caked in blood and lumps of bone were pushing at his skin in unnatural places. He
hissed in pain and held back his tears, for fear of keeping the salt out of the cuts on his face.
When the beer started to warm, he clicked off the cap on the bottle and downed the bottle in less
than a minute and his throat burned whilst his face still throbbed.
He had been hiding in his house for three days, shirking off his work responsibilities and praying
that Robin was covering his ass. He had been burying his woes in beer and bad movies he hated.
Yeah, he was moping. But was Tommy right? Probably.

August 6th 1985

Steve was pressing keys almost mindlessly on the computer next to him when Robin stepped into
the shop. She pulled off her helmet as the woman renting Star Wars left the store. Robin looked
distant and sad, leading Steve to wave her over. She waltzed over to him, let out a loud sigh before
burying her head into her arms. Steve rubbed her hair and asked her what was wrong. And then he
noticed the scratches and welts on her arms.
He didn't mention it.
"C'mon, come round here," he whispered to her. She looked up with set eyes and then got up and
walked around to give him an awkward sidehug. She pulled out almost immediately. "You're going
soft, dingus." So they were ignoring their... crap.
He was good with that. He didn't push it.

November 16th 1985

Steve groaned. He had heard second hand from Wheeler that Tommy Hagan was back in town for
Christmas. He had left for college a year prior, leading Steve to believe he'd never see him again.
But Tommy's family were a cornerstone of Hawkins, alike the Harrington who too, almost never
returned.
Tommy was old money. And a dick. A dick Steve hoped he wouldn't have to bump into. But if the
past few years had taught Steve Harrington anything, he wasn't a lucky guy.
"So it's true," he heard a call, trying his best to usher Henderson back to his car, "King Steve has
really fallen. Hanging out with kids now. Rest of Hawkins aware you're a sex offender?"
Steve swore under his breath, his nails were so far into his palms that they had drawn blood. He
hadn't known that was possible.
Steve spun on his heel to see Tommy and Carol, leaning against the arcade wall. "And it's
Toothless as well! God Tommy, he really did depend on us for popularity!" Carol's incessant
chewing had annoyed him when they were 'friends' but now it was maddening. He didn't respond.
He was thinking. "Not gonna bite Harrington? Kay, I see. Y'know Steve... I hear Nancy Wheeler's
in town. Wanna pop round, see if she wants to talk?" The venom Tommy put behind the words was
toxic, and it was spreading. He still didn't say a word. "Ahhhhhh, Steeevee!" Carol moaned his
name just as mockingly as she had when he and Nance were dating.
"Heard she left you for the perv. What was it? Johnathan Byers?" Steve nodded.
"How's the car?" Harrington responded, nodding to Tommy's car, which was withing about ten
paces. Tommy's eyes went wide as Steve bent down to pick up a chunk of tarmac. "Steve. Please.
My dad will kill me." Tommy was begging and Steve smiled.
"Mine too." And with one throw Tommy's rear view mirror had been knocked off. He bolted.

November 30th 1985

The beer stung his split lip, but at this point his throat had practically become desensitized to the
burn of downing a glass in one go. His eyes didn't water as they had the first time he had drank, and
he didn't cry out as his liver felt what would become the first bullet of many. Steve looked over his
glass and she was looking back over hers. She was still looking. Perhaps at the bandages he had
tried to wrap around his knuckles, perhaps she was looking at his black eye or his crooked nose,
perhaps she was looking at his ability to drink. Perhaps she was looking him up and down.
Her hair was a raven black and scraped up into ponytail behind her head. However, she had missed
a several strands and Steve imagined tucking it behind her ear. Her olive skin was complimented
by beautiful green eyes and her lips were full and red. She wore a blue tank top and- God she had
noticed he was staring.
Stev looked to his right and saw Robin at the entrance of the bar (which she was too young to be
in) and she appeared to be looking around for someone until her eyes locked with his. She offered
her sweetest smile to him and Steve buried his head in sorrow as he slammed the empty glass on
the table, left a hefty stack of bills and got up to leave through a side entrance.
But the girl with the ponytail intercepted him, staring daggers into him. People were bustling and
swaying all around them but her eyes never left him. "You're Steve Harrington, right?" She smiled.
He scratched his head and turned to see Robin making her way towards him. "Yeah, yeah. That's
me," he turned to face her, "can we take this outside, maybe."
Her hand found its face to his shirt and she tugged at it slightly. "Forward, are we?" She asked him.
He stumbled over his words as her fingers played at his chest. She smelled like roses. "Err, well. I
am when I'm drunk." You're not drunk though.
And then he had escaped Robin Buckley with a girl called Vanessa in his passenger seat, singing
wildly along to music he was only half paying attention to.
Van (as she liked to be called) was intoxicating. She smelled so nice and her skin felt smooth. Her
hands were rough and calloused as they rubbed at his back under his shirt. They had arrived at his
house but all decency had been forgotten and he pressed her lustfully into his car. She moaned into
his mouth loudly, as if she was trying to get them caught. He wasn't complaining though, he tugged
playfully at he hair. Her manicured nails raked through his back and he moaned into her mouth too.
He picked her up by her thighs and she squealed but didn't complain as he took her towards his
door.

December 1st 1985

He was cold. His curtains were blowing in and his window was probably open. Steve looked to his
right to see Vanessa lying their peacefully, a narrow path of light made its way through his
windows and shone on her face, lighting it up almost angelically. She, however was probably even
colder than he was. The duvet only covered from her hips down and he tried not to look at her
breasts, as proudly displayed as they were.
Steve got out of bed and didn't realise until he was standing that he was hard. He guessed trying not
to admire her beauty hadn't worked. He got dressed silently and made his way downstairs.
Van followed him down shortly after, dressed in a pair of his boxers and one of his many polos.
"Do you own anything that doesn't have a collar?" She was yawinging, her hair all over the place
and her shoulder slipping from under his polo.
"You don't appreciate my fashion sense?" Steve mock whined.
"I didn't say that." She massaged his arms carefully, methodically. Van had asked him what had
happened to him. He didn't answer and she never brought it up again. The phone rang and the
woman in his shirt looked at him expectantly. God, she was hot. "Don't let my toast burn," he
indicated his point by waving a butter knife at her. She giggled and Steve Harrington picked up the
phone.
"Steve Harrington," he said as he picked up the phone.
"What the hell happened to your face? Where have you been? What the fuck was that last night?"
The bombard of questions spun Steve's head and he groaned.
"Robin, it's so early. It's like..." He looked to Van for help and she mouthed 12:30.
"It's noon dingus. Now can you tell me what happened last night?" Steve tried his best to hide his
goofy grin. So he banged his head into the wall and hung up.

November 21st 1985

"Wait- so your kids want you to join in on your DnD campaign?" Robin asked as she bent over to
lock Family Video's door.
"They aren't my kids though, Rob."
"But Dustin is." Buckley snorted.
"Beside the point. Anywho, correction: they invited us to play DnD." Steve retorted. He clapped
his hands and began rubbing them together for warmth.
Robin gave him a small smile as she wrapped a scarf around her neck. "Tell the nerds that I'll be
there." Robin smiled.
"You know how to play?" Steve asked, genuinely curious.
"Played a little in high school." She nodded, her nose bright pink. And Steve guffawed.

November 24th 1985

"HARRINGTON!" Tommy Hagan shouted across the store. Robin was off sick and Keith was out
smoking in the back so only he was in the store. Steve glared down Tommy and Carol from behind
the counter.
"Where's your girlfriend?" Carol sing singed in an irritatingly high pitched voice. Steve kicked
himself inwardly but he didn't stop himself from calling out to Keith that he would be back in ten.
He got up and motioned for the two of them to follow him outside. As soon as they were behind
the building Tommy looked to Steve and said, "So where is the faggot anyway?"
Steve's blood boiled. He saw red and cracked Tommy straight on the jaw. Carol screamed as
Tommy staggered back. "So she is a faggot." The bully snickered through a broken jaw. Fuck.
Steve gritted his teeth and tried to dodge a blow from Tommy to his gut, but he failed to do so.
Carol was backing away as Hagan grabbed Steve by the shoulder and delivered blow after blow to
his face. "You've let yourself go Harrington. You are just like your dad, ASSHOLE!" Steve
stumbled away, his nose shattered and his face stinging. Steve shifted his shoulders and delivered a
knee into his old friends balls. Tommy fell onto his back and Harrington and began to straddle the
man before hitting Tommy repeatedly. His knuckles broke at some point. He kept going.

December 2nd 1985

Steve opened the door to a rather pissed off Robin Buckley, helmet strapped tightly to her head and
her eyes in full 'you fucked up mode'. "What the fuck dingus?" She glowered.
He smoothed his fringe from his eyes and tapped his knuckles against his doorway. Neither of
them said anything for a while. "I'm coming in, asshole." Buckley practically spat. Steve nodded
and moved aside as his best friend stormed into the house. "You've been ghosting me for days, you
look like shit and I can't see your eyes through the fucking bags." Steve shrugged.
"Yeah. I know, I had a fight with Tommy Hagan." He said. Robin raised an eyebrow. She sat down
on his sofa, "I can see that. What happened? You've gotten over fights within seconds before. I've
seen it, that russian guy. Surely something happened."
"We have... history. Like, more than what everyone knows about. And he said some stuff, that day.
About me, you... Called me my dad." He was barely speaking.
"What did he say Harrington?"
"Called you a- he called you a fffffffff- erm. He called you. Errr, he called you um..." He broke
off...
"Right, so he called me a slur. Why does this affect you? That's my bullshit, you don't have to take
that crap on your shoudlers." She was trying to be nice, Steve knew it. He still cracked. "I- was a
terrible person. Rob. Actually, actually horrible. Robin, I called Johnathan a- oh God, Rob." He
was trying not to break.
"Steve Harrington, if you called Johnathan Byers a slur, I can't forgive you for that. But you have
changed. Genuinely. You're my best friend, I trust you. I do, but you have fucked up. You have
changed, and I am glad you have. I love you, truly. You're great. You aren't Tommy, you aren't
your dad. You're Steve the babysitter Harrington." Robin's face wasn't stern but it wasn't a shining
beacon of adoration either. And he was good with that. Steve snuggled into her chest, gave her a
quick "thank you" and they fell asleep snuggled together.

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