Chapter Text
It’s… not the stupidest thing Dustin’s ever done. It’s far from the stupidest thing he’s ever done, really, because it was much less dangerous, on every level, and he’d considered it, critically, he had.
Like, okay, threats? Alright, well, Steve’s parents could have been home. But, let's be honest here, that scenario wasn’t exactly likely, and Dustin’s pretty sure he’d have noticed if it was a possibility; you can kind of tell from Steve’s mood. Besides, Steve’s was the only car there when he arrived, and he’d checked that - he had, Steve - so he couldn’t be blamed for that one. He had no reason to suspect that anyone else was in the house at all.
And he might have been spotted by a neighbor, admittedly, as threat number two. But, well, it was early, he’d reasoned, and surely if he was there to do something illegal he’d be using the cover of darkness, right? He wasn’t an idiot. Plus, in the event that someone remembered that questionable behavior wasn’t limited to nighttime, then if he just walked like he was meant to be there then there really was no reason to suspect him regardless.
The neighbors must have seen him over there before, anyway, surely? And even if they hadn’t, and despite what Steve said, Dustin totally had an innocent-looking face. He’d trust himself, if he happened to see himself wandering onto Steve’s property unsupervised. Assuming this was a scenario where he was someone else, and he wasn’t just watching some random doppelgänger, because obviously that wasn’t trustworthy at all, and he didn’t want to see someone else wearing his face, but even then he’s pretty sure Steve would be able to recognise an imposter, so.
But again, he was just walking, and alright so maybe he’d looked over his shoulder a few times, but that was just sensible behavior to make sure he wasn’t being tailed, or something. And if he hadn’t done that and there had been an actual intruder following him then that would just have been a rookie error, and Dustin was determined not to be some kind of amateur. He’d been taking this seriously, and was that really so wrong?
It’s not like he jumped the fence, after all. It really had been more of a dignified climb, and he’d only ducked and crouched at that one section directly in view of the neighbors’ window, but, see, they wouldn’t have seen that, that was the entire point.
Because he’d thought about it, see, totally critically, and if he had been seen and they’d reported him anyway, then, well, it’s not like Steve would press charges. So if you thought about it he was being totally responsible, and there was every reason to believe that there was absolutely no risk here.
And the cameras, well, trying to hide from them would’ve just been more suspicious, and it’s not like he didn’t want Steve to know it was him, so he hadn’t made any mistakes in that part of the planning, at least. It was never meant to be a secret, it was just… a surprise - which Steve apparently knows a lot about, anyway, and now Dustin certainly does.
Oh, and if he knows the code to the alarm then really that’s Steve’s fault, too, for never bothering to cover it.
Like, what did he expect Dustin to do with that? That was a challenge, if he’d ever seen one. A taunt, if you will.
The only options were that Steve hadn’t thought about it - which was stupid, or that he had thought about it but he trusted Dustin - which was also stupid.
Well, no. Dustin wasn’t going to be giving the code to anyone else, he supposes, because he’d earned that himself and he didn’t actually want Steve to get robbed or whatever. So, okay, it was fair to trust him there, it would be stupid to think that he’d want to cause Steve harm.
But trusting Dustin not to use the code for his own gain? Dustin couldn’t be held responsible for Steve underestimating him, that fault was totally on him.
So Dustin hadn’t done anything wrong in any of that, it was totally calculated.
And, like, Eddie had stolen a car once. Not even a car, an RV, which was considerably bigger and therefore much more impressive, just objectively. And, alright, so he’d done it for good reason, and technically it was more temporarily appropriated, rather than taken, because they didn’t keep it, but.
But he’d done it so casually, is the thing. And easily.
And Dustin didn’t have any interest in crime, genuinely - he didn’t think he really had the stomach for petty theft, even, because he had shoplifted once as a kid and it was mostly an accident when he forgot he was still holding something as he walked out of the store but he still felt guilty about it, sometimes? Because he hadn’t returned it once he’d noticed and he thought if he did he’d get in trouble and he couldn’t handle the disappointed look on his mom’s face if she knew even though sometimes he was convinced from the way she looked at him that she did suspect and some days he still felt like he was going to be arrested for it.
Like, okay, so it was only a comic book, and it wasn’t even a rare one, but it was pretty close to mint condition since he didn’t dare to even touch it since that would feel like accepting the theft and benefiting from it? But he was scared to throw it away in case the police found it in the trash or something and knew it was stolen and then it would be traced back to him and he’d go to jail and he really couldn’t leave his mom on her own like that and she really would be disappointed and also she was kind of scary?
And he’d thought about throwing it away in someone else’s trash but then what if they went to prison and he was responsible for it? Or what if he hadn’t removed his fingerprints effectively enough, and he’d just given someone the opportunity to discover and report his crime? And he’d thought about tearing it up and disposing of it across different places but then wasn’t that more obvious and also that was kind of a waste of a good comic book?
And he’d thought about just giving it to someone else like it was a gift but even if it was donated, like, that was still stolen goods, and there was something wrong about them not knowing that? What if the theft had made it tainted now anyway - or cursed? He couldn’t do that to someone. Plus, what if it wasn’t a good comic book, and then they just thought he had bad taste? Dustin didn’t know, he hadn’t read it, and also wouldn’t it be kind of devastating to have permanently damaged his record over a comic that wasn’t even good?
And he’d thought about just anonymously giving the money to the store now to retrospectively pay for it, because as stated a loan clearly wasn’t as bad as a theft, but if he just left it in the aisle then anyone could take it and if he gave it to the cashier in person then they’d know and also what about inflation? He couldn’t determine the value anymore, and would it be like a rental with a late fee, and surely he couldn’t afford that by this point anyway, so where did that leave him?
It left him with a stolen comic book beneath the loose floorboard under his bed, is the answer, and it felt so obvious and he’s better than that but, like, what self-respecting or sensible person would look that closely under the bed of a teenage boy, right? And maybe it being so obvious is what made it so genius? And, okay, so he doesn’t know if you’ve ever heard of this story called “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allen Poe, but he doesn’t hear, like, the pages rustling, anymore, so it’s fine, mostly.
He doesn’t have the stomach for petty theft, is the point. At least not outside of end-of-the-world exceptions.
But Eddie made it look so easy, though, like he hadn’t even had to think about it or justify it to himself. And it’s not that Dustin wants to break the law, really, honestly - Steve, don’t even worry about it - but he did… I mean he did want to reach that level of cool, yeah.
He couldn’t casually hotwire a vehicle, or take a comic without crying - oh, had he mentioned the crying? - but he could absolutely make his way into Steve Harrington’s house uninvited with some sense of pride.
And maybe that would even, like, redeem him, somehow? His previous scrape with the wrong side of the law had been kind of traumatizing, maybe, and shouldn’t Steve want him to get over that? Never mind that he’s apparently replacing it with a different kind of trauma, because he couldn’t possibly have known that at the time.
This was… I mean wanting to feel cool was absolutely a fair enough motivation, right? That was a justifiable reason to do anything so long as it didn’t get anyone hurt.
It was a big house, is the thing. The kind of big where if there was a real break-in you couldn’t really feel bad for the owners, anyway, ‘cause they clearly had enough money to comfort them or replace whatever was lost. And, like, again, Dustin didn’t want any actual misfortune to befall Steve, honestly - though if it had just been his parents, well. He’d heard Eddie say “eat the rich,” once, and he liked that.
But it was a big house, okay, like the kind of big that’s just inherently sort of tempting? Like Dustin really can’t be blamed for eyeing up this thing and thinking, huh, wouldn’t it be cool if I could just… walk in?
And it was completely besides the point that he had walked in, many times, and that Steve had no problem with letting him come over. It was being there when he wasn’t supposed to be that was tempting, and Dustin doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that impulse. Or, well, he didn’t. Now he has absolutely no desire to be there when he’s not supposed to be, but if he hadn’t known what he might walk in to then just wanting to walk in was totally innocent and understandable.
Right?
Plus Dustin had this whole image, in his head, of Steve incredulously accusing him of breaking and entering, with this specific expression he does that he thinks is stern and authoritative but that Dustin recognises as exasperated more than anything else so knows isn’t too serious. And Dustin could smirk as he asked “what did I break?” and the corner of Steve’s mouth would twitch and he’d cover his face like he was disappointed when really he was hiding a smile.
And like, why should he be denied that joy, you know?
Because burglars, undoubtedly, were the coolest kind of criminals. He’d given that a lot of critical consideration too, because this had always been a serious operation. Who were they hurting, really, if they were stealing from rich people? That was what Robin Hood did, and he got praised for it, and burglars didn’t even have to wear tights to rob people, which had to make them cooler automatically?
Admittedly, they also lacked the bow and arrow, and the snazzy hat with the feather in it, but the masks were mysterious, and Dustin figured it was probably inherently more questionable to bring a weapon into someone’s house, and he may have worn a striped shirt for this.
It’s not black and white, though, ‘cause he doesn’t own one of those, and again he didn’t want to look suspicious, but he thinks the outfits are more of a statement than a requirement anyway. His statement could be that he’s too cool for that kind of statement.
Eddie wouldn’t have needed an outfit - uh, evidently. But the point is that it’s not about the clothing. Like, Eddie could make pretty much anything look cool while wearing a Hellfire shirt. Except not this, even if he was so inclined, because you shouldn’t commit crimes in identifying clothing, obviously, and Dustin still isn’t stupid. Not that he doesn’t think the Hellfire shirt is cool anyway, and not that this was a crime, again, really. He doesn’t do crimes.
And also thank God there’s no Hellfire shirt in sight, right now.
…No, wait, not like-
Besides, he’s not actually convinced, if he thinks about it, that burgling is what he was doing? He might have to research it, later, provided no one sees him doing the research, because again, that’s suspicious behavior and Dustin thought these things through. But he was never actually planning on taking anything, just sort of… letting himself in? Because he wasn’t actually a thief, after all, and the getting in was the fun part, surely, besides the look on Steve’s face - the one he was supposed to get, and honestly for such a big house there really wasn’t much in it?
Dustin’s not sure what Steve’s parents have against, like, owning things, but besides the furniture and a couple of paintings he thinks it’s what he’s heard people call “minimalistic” but what he understands is a kinder way of saying “sad and depressing”. There’s no photographs, no random souvenirs or expressions of personality, and he gets that this is what houses look like in catalogs but it shouldn’t be what they look like when they’re lived in, surely?
The only place he could really take something, Dustin reasoned, was likely Steve’s room, but he’d felt like he could probably just do that anyway? Which wasn’t really as exciting. Like Steve, generally, will say yes to anything Dustin asks so long as it sounds reasonable, and Dustin thinks if he spun him a reason for why he needed his lamp, or something, chances are that Steve would just give it to him.
He once told Steve that he needed a second scoop of ice cream because, if he had two, then the second one would be the perfect amount of melted by the time he reached it, and did Steve not want him to experience ice cream in its best form? What was the point of the ice cream at all, if it was going to be a subpar experience?
And he knows he could’ve just waited for the ice cream to melt, and surely Steve had considered that, but he gave him the second scoop anyway, for free. And it was possibly just to get him to stop talking, but he doesn’t have a problem with the reasoning so long as it gets him what he wants.
He really does think he’s being deprived by Steve no longer working at Scoops, as a side note. The hat was funny, too.
Maybe he should still ask Steve for a lamp, actually, since the only reason Dustin’s thinking about it is because he knocked his own onto the floor this morning. And he’d done it because he was too excited about this whole endeavor, too, so, really that was Steve’s fault as well. He owed him a lamp, if you thought about it.
It didn’t even look cool when it broke, not that he’d meant to do it anyway, but it could’ve been a consolation, or something. The bulb didn’t smash, and it stayed in one piece in general, which might make you think that it was well constructed, but there was only a faint thud and then it wouldn’t switch on again. And, like, if it was only going to take a tiny fall to break, it could at least have the decency of being more dramatic about it.
Dustin deserves more excitement, he thinks. Very different excitement to the kind that he gets, to clarify.
He could still just take a lamp, sure, but again he really doesn’t like Steve’s parent’s lack of taste and he thinks Steve might even buy him one, if he begged. It’s for his education, he reasons. How is he going to read at night, if he doesn’t have a lamp? And isn’t Steve supposed to support such nerdy protests?
Lamps aside, the important thing here is that Dustin breaks into Steve’s house not for any true nefarious reason, but to satisfy his craving for faux criminality.
And is that not moral? To expend that urge on a victimless act, to get that rush of coolness and then even if it was addictive, well, Steve would still live there, right? He could just make it more challenging, next time. He could set up an obstacle course. Have a strict time limit.
Get Steve a guard dog?
He wants a tangle of lasers to weave through, if he’s honest, and a safe, and ropes, and maybe a grappling hook, and night vision goggles. He wants easily distractible guards and thick heavy boots that are also somehow soundless and maybe, like, an earpiece? But he can work his way up, here.
If anything, Steve should be grateful that he wasn’t making more of a spectacle, is what this shows. Dustin could’ve given him a dog, and then what would he do? He was at work a lot, so it would probably be incredibly inconvenient, and Steve already had enough things - people - to care about. Apparently more than Dustin had realized, even.
Dustin could always have been more inconvenient, is all. Steve had gotten away lightly, really.
It’s possible Dustin hadn’t actually considered every angle, here. Like, for a start, it’s possible that he hadn’t actually wanted to be a burglar at all, but had wanted to be a spy? And, given what happens, maybe that is closer to his reality here regardless, but it’s true that it absolutely hadn’t been on his list of carefully examined possibilities, so, well. Maybe he hadn’t thought of everything.
But in his defense, Steve was, famously, incredibly single. How was Dustin supposed to prepare for this?
It’s supposed to be a victimless not-crime, anyway, but the victim is very clearly him, here. And it feels like it’s probably illegal, that he witnesses it, though he’ll spend the rest of time, probably, convincing himself that he didn’t see anything.
He did get to enjoy it, for a while, to be fair. The before part, that is, obviously. The front door was just as satisfying as he imagined, and he had imagined it, because he thought these things through. It opened with a click that he actively appreciated, and, like, could they not also appreciate the coolness of the fact that Dustin had, actually, managed it?
And it turns out the alarm wasn’t even on, actually, which was a shame but was also great news in the moment because Dustin absolutely forgot about it immediately and was busy celebrating his door opening victory, with appropriate levels of enthusiasm, at the time it would’ve gone off. And that’s disappointing, really, and Dustin will have to try the alarm thing one day for real, but again, like, this is Steve’s fault, here.
This is clear proof that Steve doesn’t take his home security seriously, and Dustin is raising his attention to a serious lapse of judgment, here. Steve had displayed an unacceptable level of risk and inattention, obviously, and he should thank him, if they’re honest. Plus, like, this never would have happened if Steve had remembered to put that alarm on, and that’s an objective fact, so it really, genuinely, just is not Dustin’s fault. He’s not sure how it could be.
It’s not the stupidest thing he’s ever done.
He does wonder, vaguely, what would have happened if the alarm had gone off. He wants to imagine an instant swarm of officers emerging in precise and coordinated formations, and a whole team vaulting from the ceilings covered in dark tactical gear, or maybe, like, immediate sirens blaring in the distance and the sudden flashing of lights.
There could be a whole squad of cars screeching as they cut corners and swerved unnecessarily and sped dangerously before they appeared with a wild spin and the squeal of brakes as the tyres skidded to a halt, possibly across gravel, because that was a good noise and it could, like, spray around the car as it stopped. With like the faintest hint of smoke and the smell of burning rubber, too.
Maybe Steve’s dad would get an alert to his office somewhere, and someone would pull up a video feed of Dustin’s exact location, and a disembodied voice would pipe up over a speaker, and Dustin would be interrogated and handcuffed and taken away in the back of a van and read his Miranda rights. Probably not in that order. But a van did feel cooler than a car, and that was almost more respect for the level of criminality, really, proof that they were taking it seriously.
Like, he did that, he opened that door, that was him. What about it, officer?
…Or, no, uh, it wasn’t me, officer? I’m just an innocent child, you’ve made a mistake, don’t look under the bed - I mean, what?
Or, like, maybe Steve would have charged down the stairs wielding a nail-studded bat. Maybe both of them would, though Dustin doesn’t think he has two bats, but apparently he doesn’t know a lot of things? Though that would’ve been a fun story, Dustin thinks, and he’s sure they’re not the kinds of people to strike without looking, and he thinks that way they might’ve put some clothes on, first.
Or maybe not. He’s not sure if that’s more or less horrifying than the reality, actually. They looked pretty intense either way. Not that he is ever going to be putting any level of thought into how they looked, he actually - he went temporarily blind there, for a moment, he has no idea what, um, this could even be about.
The point is that it’s all a great success, up until… you know. He made it to the house without arousing suspicion, he unlocked the door, he didn’t trigger any alarms - he didn’t even feel the urge to steal anything besides a faint musing on lamps, so he’s definitely not an actual criminal - and obviously it was all because he’d thought the entire thing through and planned accordingly.
He didn’t do a single thing wrong, okay, if you wanted to make note of that.
But then, of course, he had to inform Steve of said success. Because, also, being in the house without Steve knowing about it is an incredible achievement, obviously, and very cool, but then it reaches the part where it just becomes creepy? And he didn’t want to make Steve uncomfortable, with this whole, oh, yeah, I broke into your house once and you had no idea about it as I walked around while you were - supposedly - asleep. And half of the fun was always going to be in telling him, right?
It doesn’t really work out that way.
He… you know what, honestly, Dustin’s not even convinced that he was being that quiet? So that’s another mark for the column where, honestly, Steve could be held more responsible for just not being more aware of his surroundings and the potential dangers within them. Steve probably didn’t look over his shoulders as he walked around… his own house… and maybe - maybe that was on him…?
He could’ve heard him, anyway. It’s not like Dustin was actively trying to creep up on him. Not… exactly? Sort of, but.
But it wasn’t Dustin’s fault.
Like, alright, so Dustin was careful of that one stair that always creaked, because he had absolutely scoped out Steve’s house properly and he was prepared and he knew to watch out for these things, but beyond that he had probably stopped being as careful, by that point. Because he was excited, right, and Steve’s room was getting closer, and why move cautiously in the upstairs corridor when he was never going to sneak in there, he was always going to make his presence known, he’d always wanted the dramatic reveal at the end.
He… definitely gets that?
The general idea was to throw the door open, startle Steve, and get the immediate “what the fuck” of confused temporarily-angry-quickly-exasperated relief that he’d counted on. He didn’t expect the biggest “what the fuck” to come from him.
It goes like this.
Dustin, giddy with excitement, does not hesitate for a single moment over the door. He doesn’t pause to calm down, he doesn’t brace himself for the end result of all his planning, he doesn’t take a last second to remind himself of exactly how he’s going to open the door and what he’s going to say when he does it.
The handle is in sight, he’s reached for it before he can register the movement, and it’s possible that he was feeling slightly too energetic about the whole thing, because the door swings open with force. So much force, however, and subsequently so quickly, that the entire room is bared to him immediately.
The room is not the only thing bare to him immediately.
He doesn’t really register the first thing he hears - isn’t sure why anyone would want to know the first thing he hears - but he sees and then the door is hitting the wall so hard that it bounces straight off and collides with him instantly.
The impact still isn’t as bad as the sight before him.
Dustin has a good imagination, and he had not imagined this.
He had assessed the situation from every possible angle, but it turns out that there are angles - positions, even - that he had not known existed.
In that last moment before the door hits him, Dustin has a wild and desperate second to think that this was absolutely not his fault.