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STRANGER THINGS
A Good Storm - (Smutty one-shot. Eddie x fem!Reader) You love a good storm. The first time you’d had sex with Eddie had been during a thunder storm...
Breath and Body - (Smutty one-shot. Eddie x fem!Reader) You and Eddie decide to try out something a little new while you give him head…
Study Buddy - (Smutty one-shot. Eddie x fem!Reader ) You started out as lab partners, then you got flirty; now you’re in his bedroom...
Then Out of the Aether [ 9 /12 ] - (Multi-chapter. Slow burn . Eddie x fem!Reader) Eddie thought he knew who you were. Now he’s learning there’s more there...
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Drabbles and Such:
Flirting at the tattoo shop (Post-Hawkins Eddie. Flirty)
Summary: Neither of you want to be at the party in the first place, but it turns out pretty fine. Things are said.
Warning: None.
A/N: Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader.
< Click here to find previous chapters >
When Lindsay called you this morning and told you she wanted to go to a party….you had assumed she was joking.
Who could blame you? The two of you are not regulars at the house parties some of your school mates throw. Oh, you usually hear through the grapevine which house is hosting for a given night, but you don’t actually go.
Newsflash: she hadn’t been joking.
You’d shown up at Noah West’s house a few hours ago. Lindsay has already made multiple beers disappear, and she is in the living room mingling and laughing with a small group.
Good.
Cool.
That’s great.
She’d said she wanted to “get out of the house” and “let loose,” which is probably normal, right? Healthy, even? (Okay, maybe you aren’t suppose to consider chugging a beer healthy, but she’ll be alright.)
That’s why you are here.
And by here, that means you are playing wallflower. You’re tucked away at the edge of the room near a hallway that leads to a bathroom and, ultimately, out to the garage. It has allowed you to have a glimpse of who is coming and going, and there’s a quick avenue to slip away if you want to.
(It is possible you’ve over-thought the entire situation and your placement in it, but honestly it’s better to be safe than sorry.)
A fresh flash of sound bounces in down the hallway, signaling the garage door has opened – there’s two beer pong tables in action out there. You glance toward the sound out of habit.
Then you do a double take when you process the familiar flurry of curls and distinctive leather jacket.
“Henderson!” Eddie looks as surprised as you do; he even forgets to make your name into any sort of pun.
“Hey,” you feel relieved to see him.
“Hey,” he mocks while he looks you up and down. Almost like he’s assuring himself you’re there. “You didn’t mention you had weekend plans – the hell?!”
He laughs a little, though it’s a happy thing. Surprised but glad. You can tell.
“Oh, and you did?” you figure fair is only fair.
Eddie rolls his eyes at this sound logic.
“I’m here on business,” he stage-whispers.
“...really?”
He gives you a skeptical look.
“Come on…”
Riiiiight. Okay, yeah. That makes perfect sense once you have a second to consider.
Your classmates might not want to hang out with Eddie, but they’ll buy off of him. Of course they will. Somehow you just hadn’t pictured that means he’d show up at one of these parties.
“Oh”
Eddie chuckles.
“Look…speaking of – I better go find West. He said he’d be out back,” his gaze travels toward one of the sliding doors. There is a bonfire going in the backyard. “You’ll wait right here?”
“Sure”
You don’t tell him you haven’t moved far since taking up this spot.
You watch Eddie pick his way easily through the crowded living room. Along the way he notices Lindsay and pauses briefly. He cocks his head and glances back at you with a subtle point of his finger.
You nod.
He nods back like he gets it. You figure he does – he always seems to.
Then he’s sauntering across the patio to fetch the host. They walk away from the people around the firepit and turn their backs. Their arms move and bump a bit.
It’s a brief exchange, and you aren’t sure which of them looks more pleased with themselves when it’s over. You hope it’s Eddie. Knowing that these people don’t actually want him here, you hope Eddie overcharged. Or tacked on a delivery fee. Or…just something.
Logan West and his friends don’t deserve Eddie, that’s for sure.
“You okay?” Eddie is back soon enough, chin tilted just so.
“...yeah.”
You’d gotten caught up in some resentment, and your face must be doing something strange. But Eddie takes your answer at face value and gives it up. He twists and throws himself up against the wall beside you so the pair of you can survey the room together.
“So…Lindsay’s going through, uh, a whole thing, isn’t she?” he watches her swaying to the music.
“Yeah,” you cringe. “Afraid so…”
He’s never asked before. Just accepts it when you mention she’s stressed or that she needed a girls night, etc. Not for lack of caring, you think. He’s just someone who understands that shit happens. He doesn’t need the gossip for proof, which you appreciate because Lindsay is pretty private.
“...sucks.”
“Mmhmm…but I’ll keep an eye on her,” you shrug.
You don’t mind too much. Obviously you’re not excited to be here, but you’re always willing to help Lindsay out. That’s never the question.
“I get it …and it’s your lucky night. Now you’ve got another friend in here who isn’t a douche,” he juts his thumbs at himself.
“Seems presumptuous that the guy who invented the Douche Chart gets to rank himself…”
And, thus, you spend some time engaged in hushed conversation about what guests are or aren’t the absolute worst.
“You want a smoke? I have a little leftover…” Eddie reveals once the pair of you have lapsed into companionable quiet.
“Not tonight, thanks …I’ll go outside with you, though,” you doubt Lindsay needs to literally be watched every second.
She’s currently kneeling by the coffee table where people are starting to play Flip Cup.
“Nah, just offering ….can I get you a refill?” he makes his next offer and gestures at your empty Solo cup.
You haven’t been drinking from it in quite some time.
“I don’t think so…”
“Just want the rest of mine?” he wiggles his, which is less than half full at present.
“Thanks, I’m alright…”
“No you’re not — this party blows,” Eddie scoffs.”I know you’re not a party girl, but if you want to really test the waters, I’ll take you to a better one some time…”
You pretend you’re not charmed as hell by the idea of him taking you to a party.
“Oh? You think you know where the good parties are?”
“Well, obviously,” he holds out his arms to grandly indicate himself. “The secret is to go literally anywhere that’s not full of seventeen year old fucks who only care about sports and teasing their hair and going to the mall or…what the fuck ever,” he waves at the frivolity around you.
Uncharacteristically, he’s keeping his voice down.
Maybe he’s doing that for you. Or, alternatively, maybe you’re self-centered.
“...and where would I find such a party?” you egg him on.
“You head out of town,” he tells you, and you both laugh. “Go where people don’t know you and don’t assume much. It’s like a fresh slate…gotta find the college parties where everyone is trying to get over their shit,” his hand gestures get more exuberant.
You snatch his elbow to stop the waving around.
Eddie snickers at you.
“You’d make out great in a place like that…” he finishes.
You mull that over, and you’re not sure how you feel. How exactly did he mean that comment?
“...so you’re worried I’m, like, lonely and innocent?”
Why had you said it like that? Why had you asked at all?! You’ve only had one measly beer, for Christ’s sake!
Because it shouldn't matter – you know it shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter if he thinks that. And, yet…you find you don’t want him thinking that you are needy. Or out of touch. Or. Just. Niave, or something.
“No! ….or…um. I don’t know?” he hedges with a side-eyed glance and a shift of his weight. Kind of like he’s not exactly happy with this trajectory, either …which comforts you, honestly. “I’m just saying. You could pull in the right crowd, ya know? Like. If you wanted to, obviously.”
Hmm. That feels …more complementary than patronizing, maybe.
“I’d pull, huh?”
Your sly look seems to make his shoulders relax.
“Yeah. Yeah, a college crowd would be good for you, I think. Better than…” he trails off and nods his chin at the living room.
You briefly study those assembled, and you have to hope Eddie is correct.
“A college crowd…” you echo him and are happy to find this doesn’t make you squirm like most college topics do. “Is that what you do? Find your fresh slate at college parties?”
“I’ve gone out with Rick, yeah. No one really questions you on campus…”
You have never met of even seen ‘Reefer Rick’ but you’ve heard about him around town.
“Hmm…and do you pull while you’re there?”
You shouldn’t have asked that, either! You do not want to know. Except for the part of you that sort of definitely does…
Eddie coughs in surprise, and he blushes. Shifts his weight around.
“Me? Um…huh, I…well,” he shrugs. “I get more interest than in Hawkins, I guess.”
“That’s good”
“Is it? I mean, yeah,” he chuckles at himself.
“Yeah…”
His discomfort has you smiling.
“...I’m going to go grab a refill. You sure you’re good?” Eddie points at your cup again.
“I’m sure”
He heads off to the corner where a keg has been set up. Then you see him take a detour to the kitchen. There’s a spread of various snacks there – maybe he’ll bring back some chips or something. Or you could abandon your post and just go join him to grab a plate….
“Hi”
You jerk in surprise when someone stops beside you.
“Hi…”
Jake Matanski. He’s a grade below you, but you know him. A little, at least. Not enough that you would have expected him to bother to come say hello, though.
“You don’t want to come play?” he uses his beer to point at the game in the livingroom.
“Oh. No, not for me…”
Your eyes glide to the kitchen and find Eddie watching across the counter. He gives you a little smile, then flashes a thumbs up, followed by a thumbs down. Are you supposed to indicate one or the other to him? And how, exactly? Ugh.
“Aw! Why not?” Jake laughs despite the lack of a joke.
“Well, uh…no drink,” you wave your empty cup.
“Oh!” he nods quickly – maybe too quickly. “We can fix that – come on!”
Jake heads for the keg, and you automatically take two steps to follow…but you don’t even want to, right?. And he’s not paying attention, anyway; he’s already winding past the couch…
So you have an out!
You hustle to the kitchen instead.
“Wow – quite the ditch act,” Eddie starts clapping. “Five stars.”
“Excuse you. What happened to coming right back?” you kick his ankle.
“How was I supposed to know you weren’t having fun…”
You echo his words mockingly, to which he only laughs a little more.
You ignore it and start rustling through a nearby cooler for a Coke. You hadn’t noticed the alternative drinks earlier.
“So…turns out it’s kind of like a repeat rFriday night in here,” Eddie gestures to the chips and candies all poured out into separate bowls.
“And I didn’t even have t-–”
“Hey – lost you!” Jake pops into the kitchen, faltering in surprise when he spots Eddie. “Hey…”
Eddie lifts his cup in salute.
Jake doesn’t return the gesture. He flickers his gaze back to you. You rase your can in a similar fashion, which he also doesn’t react to.
“I came to find a drink – I don’t really want more beer...” you explain.
“Sure! Cool. Yeah. There’s whiskey around here somewhere if you want. I’ll–”
“I’m good”
He makes a face but ultimately shrugs like ‘cool-man-more-for-me-then!’
“So are you coming?”
“No. I’m good,” you repeat this part.
Jake makes a face of ill-comprehension. Sways in his feet. Then he looks to Eddie.
“...I think she’s good, dude,” Eddie shrugs like he’s clueless.
“Lindsay said you’d want to come join...”
Hah.
Welp, she’s drunk.
“That’s nice of her, but I’ll pass…”
“Um…yeah. Alright. Alright…”
Jake lingers for a few more awkward moments and then shuffles away with a handful of snacks. A little trail of M&Ms drop behind him.
“Do you think you broke his heart?” Eddie asks with faux-concern and blinks wide eyes at you.
“Oh I’m sure”
He shrugs and kicks the dropped M&Ms out of his way.
“Never know …couldda been true love…”
“You’re hilarious”
You watch in the other room as Jake returns to the group none the worse for wear. He is a nice guy …drunk and clueless at the moment, but generally nice enough anytime you’d crossed paths. Maybe you should’ve at least participated in a little more conversation with him ….but he’d been ruining your ultimate plan of going unnoticed at this party. You’re normally so good at it.
Well. Mostly.
Your eyes slide to Eddie, who is an exception.
He’s eyeing the living room, too, while he munches on some BBQ chips. You make a mental note to get some at Bradley’s next week…is that silly? How you’re keeping tabs on what he likes so you can make him happy?
That’s pretty normal friends stuff …it just doesn’t feel like friend stuff. Not with Eddie.
You’re still having very non-friend feelings…which. Yeah. Is ridiculous considering he’d essentially just told you how and where to go to pick up guys. Other guys. Like you needed the advice. Which you probably do, but that’s a whole different thing … …he’s not supposed to have noticed that.
“I’m not, you know,” your defensive thoughts flare to life before you’ve thought it through fully. “You know,” you continue when Eddie turns a confused look at you. “Lonely and…”
Eh.
Do you want to repeat it?
Too late.
A slow smirk grows over Eddie’s face.
“...lonely and innocent?” he finishes with a smile.
Ughhh. This suddenly feels like a conversation that does require that weed after all …but you’d started this.
“Mmhmm”
You stare at each other for a minute, and you know you’re blushing.
“Well? Do tell, She-nderson,” Eddie cocks a hip on the counter and leans in. “Color me fascinated.”
“There…was a guy…”
Shit, now your story feels childish.
“...from Hawkins?” he pulls a scandalized face.
“No”
“Ah. Makes sense…” he waves his hand all go-on-go-on.
“...this feels stupid now.”
“Bullshit,” Eddie throws up his hand. “Get me hooked just to leave me dangling — spill.”
You laugh.
“Alright, yeah – he’s a family friend. Or, you know, the son of a family friend,” you clarify. “We’ve gone on small trips with them for years and would go camping together a couple times every summer…”
“Summer Love?” Eddie beams, and you worry he’s on the verge of a musical number, so you squash the notion.
“No. Not in love…just…”
“Summer lust?” he nods like this is just as good.
“A little. Also …curiosity?” you laugh. “We…wanted to see what the big deal was?” you try to explain the general infatuation that had come over both of you.
“That’s …scientific,” Eddie is trying to suppress a snicker, which is gentle of him.
“Sort of, yeah,” you go ahead and laugh. “We figured we were friends and trusted each other. So it was…nice.”
Well. Maybe not at first. It had been awkward and mechanical and you’d laughed in each other’s faces. And aso gotten flustered…and a little embarrassed, honestly.
But then the two of you had figured out how to make it fun.
“...nice is good,” Eddie’s smile feels genuine, not mocking or condescending.
You’re still blushing, though.
Because this story is true and, yeah sure, maybe it means you’re not “innocent” …but that still doesn’t mean you know what to do with the boy in front of you.
If he even wants you to do something with him…
Sometimes you think he does. The way he looks at your sometimes. The way he’s so interested in what you say and what you do. The way he so easily includes you… but that’s just it. It’s so easy for him. Like it’s habit. Like he’s just a nice guy and maybe you’re overthinking the whole thing. Just seeing what you want, that sort of thing.
“Yeah,” you agree to get back out of your own head. “It was.”
“So? – what happened with Romeo after?”
“Romeo,” you scoff. “He went to college last Fall…”
“And are there love letters stashed under your pillows?”
“No. He didn’t even come home over the summer, so no camping trip …he stayed on campus to take a class. And spend time with a girl…”
“Aw, booo. Horrible ending!”
“Shhh….it was just an experiment,” you shush him. “Besides…” your cheeks flame afresh.
“...what?”
“Nevermind”
“What?! No. Tell me … … did you not get to have an orgasm?” he asks with some seriousness.
Good! Your cheeks can’t get any hotter now!
“No, I know how to – ugh!” you slap his arm.
Eddie doesn’t bother to jump out of the way.
“What? I had to guess! Come on…”
“...his dad walked in on us the last time.”
Eddie’s responding laughter is sudden and loud…and entirely expected. You flap a hand at him to make him pipe down.
“Well, that’ll ruin it, huh?” he continues chortling.
“Pretty much….”
Only after Mr. Prince caught you did the pair of you have trouble making eye contact. It was probably for the best Chris had stayed over at OSU….though admittedly you were a tad disappointed at the time. Kind of.
“What did your mom say? Wait – how does she still trust you so much?” Eddie sputters.
“...no one told her.”
Mr Prince had been stern but ultimately flustered and too embarrassed to say anything to your mom or, as far as you now, his own wife.
Eddie cackles a little more.
“...always a surprise, HendHerSon…”
You roll your eyes.
“No offense,” he adds, smile wide.
“Whatever…”
But you’re a little pleased, all things considered. Lindsay knew that story, naturally, but it was kind of fun to share an illicit secret with Eddie.
“...what about you?”
Eddie blanches, “what about me?”
“Your first time ….come on. Are we not sharing?”
He snorts.
“I didn’t agree to that”
“Lame, Munson…”
He sighs and scratches at his chin. Studies you…and suddenly you feel inadequate. Like your story is boring and…well, it kinda is. It definitely isn’t rock-and-roll.
Eddie sighs again.
“It was fun…but not as sweet as yours…”
Sweet feels like it should be a diss, except his tone ensures that it’s not.
“Well…as long as it was fun”
He barks a short laugh.
“It was”
You’re happy to see he’s pink in the cheeks.
The two of you fall quiet, then. Maybe because there’s not a lot of tame places for the conversation to go at the moment….
You do end up outside with Eddie a while later so he can have a smoke. The cold of the night and the fact that the bonfire has been ill-tended has sent more people inside, so it’s not very crowded.
In other words, it’s perfect.
The music inside is still audible. In fact, Eddie is bopping to it right now and softly singing some of IntoThe Groove.
“I thought you only liked Corroded Coffin’s version…”
“Prefer,” he emphasized. “ I prefer ours….but I don’t live under a rock..”
Eddie bops a little more enthusiastically just, you think, to prove a point. He even jostles your shoulder with his.
“Cut it out,” you laugh him off and, involuntarily, your eyes dart toward some of the other people on the patio. They don’t appear to be paying attention.
“Screw them,” Eddie mumbles, but you hear him just fine.
“Yeah…” you feel a little foolish he’d spotted you.
“Their opinions aren’t shit,” he shimmies closer, his chest pressed to your arm.
“I know that”
“Then who cares what they think? Fuck them,” Eddie is oddly quiet but insistent. “They don’t matter.”
“I know. I…” you consider how you feel about a majority of your classmates these days. “It’s not that I want them to approve of me or like what I do….I just don’t want them to notice me either way.”
It’s easier that way. You’re happier; certainly calmer.
…does it also prove you’re a giant loser?
And could Eddie even understand? Eddie who lives out loud and shoves people’s banality in their face if offered a chance…
Hmm.
Eddie makes a considering face and leans out of your space to take a drag of his cigarette.
“...there’s a difference,” you tell him.
“Yeah,” he nods slowly. “I get that… …you should be seen, though.”
There he goes! There he goes just being himself and saying things so casually like his words don’t hit you straight in the chest.
You should be seen?
You should be seen …what a flattering and somehow terrifying sentence he’d managed to string together.
“Oh yeah?” you realize you have to say something, and that’s all you manage.
“Mmhmm…” Eddie catches your eye. “You’re endlessly fascinating. I’m always trying to tell you…”
And what should you even say to that?
Luckily you don’t have to figure it out.
“You know,” Eddie seems to forget the music as he relaxes into the corner of the house where you’re hiding from the breeze. “Sometimes I have this crazy idea… …”
“Okay,” you lilt your tone like a question so he knows he’ll need to be more specific.
“No, like…it might be legitimately crazy,” he shifts closer at your side and keeps his cigarette dangling down by his leg. “Incredibly wild, even…”
You snort.
“Alright. And?”
“And if it’s crazy…that’s fine. Tell me so. Be brutally honest,” Eddie leans back so he can smack himself in the chest. “I’ll be able to take it…”
“...getting a little nervous,” you confess even though, over all, you figure this is going to be something silly.
“No, no – no nerves,” he shakes his head, ruffling his curls. “Just honesty. Promise?”
“Sure”
“Promise?” he holds out a pinky.
“Yes,” you laugh and loop your finger into his.
He squeezes tight and uses the hold to make you lean in ever so slightly.
“Sometimes …I think that I really want to kiss you…”
Oh.
Your heart swoops in excitement, and you somehow feel frozen…like you’re found out. Seen.
…and apparently this feeling takes too long to process.
“...you’re freaking out,” Eddie leans back with a little nod.
He’s still smiling, but there’s a tilt to his eyes that isn’t usually there. For as much as you always feel Eddie can read you so well, you have to admit you’ve gotten good at reading him, too.
He’s worried.
“I’m not!” you hurry to assure him. “Or maybe I am” – (you totally are!) – “But in a good way …”
“...yeah?”
“Yeah”
“Oh thank fuck,” his shoulders loosen. “You had me going,” he sighs and lifts his cigarette for a last little drag before tossing it to the ground. “Not crazy?” he glances up to you.
“No…not crazy…”
He tries poorly to contain a grin. You smile back.
And all he does is watch you.
Which is fine….
But confusing?
“Do you…” you snort and roll your shoulders.
“What?”
“...are you not thinking about it right now?”
Because that swooping feeling hasn’t left your chest, and you are very much thinking about it.
“Kissing you?” he chortles. “No, I’m thinking about it…I think about it a lot, actually,” he laughs a little more. “But I can’t right now.”
Oh?
“...you can’t?”
He chuffs and crosses his arms.
“Right after I asked permission? No. It was kind of lame, if you didn’t notice. I can’t just go on and kiss you tonight…”
You laugh to keep yourself from complaining.
“It’s gotta be better than that. Gotta build the anticipation, ya know?” he grins along.
Doesn’t he know the anticipation has already been building? For weeks? Months, probably…
“Besides. Uh. Kissing the school Freak in public isn’t the best way to keep people from noticing you…” he eyes you carefully through his hair once he tells you this.
And. Yeah.
Maybe he’s not wrong.
But Eddie’s the exception.
“...you’re not a freak,” you tell him instead.
His smile curls up higher on his face, but his eyes dart away. Bashful. He does that more than one would think. You should probably say something more. Something reassuring. Should double-down on your assertion that he’s more than just some outcast in your eyes or –
One of the sliding doors to the patio opens, and someone stumbles out back. You look over, and of course you recognize Lindsay. Of course it’s her right now.
“Hey,” she takes a step in your direction, one hand on the glass door for stability. “I don’t think I feel great…”
Shit.
.
So. Miss Lindsay has the world’s worst timing!
Eddie shouldn’t be annoyed. He knows that, okay! It’s good she came and found a friend, blah, blah, blah.
But shit was getting good with you out on the patio! Hell, the whole night had been a gold mine of quiet laughter, telling stories, and you choosing him…so sue him if he’s salty for it to end so abruptly. Gah!
Annoyance aside, he’d helped you get her out to your car, and now he’s following you home to make sure you can get her inside, too. You’d tried to tell him he didn’t need to, but Eddie knows a thing or two about drunk people and he knows Lindsay isn’t going to be in any better shape in 20 minutes.
Indeed. She isn’t
Eddie half-carries her up the front steps and steadies her while you unlock the door. She’s shuffling and mumbling all the way through the livingroom and down the hall despite you ‘shhhh-ing’ her.
Eddie wonders if Lindsay has ever had a hangover before because woooo-boy, she sounds like she’s going to tomorrow.
Soon you’re all piling into your room.
Your room!
It’s a riot of color, and Eddie fucking loves it.
He helps you deposit Lindsay on the bed and then starts surveying the place.
Not that he’s been picturing your bedroom (lie! He totally has) but he’d expected a soft place where you could be quiet and focus. Not because you’re boring or anything…just because you like calm and ease.
Joke’s on him.
He should’ve known. The room makes so much fucking sense because it’s filled with your art. Paintings. Drawings that look like they’re filled with colored pencil – others with markers. Sketches. Some collages. There’s a flimsy easel in the corner with some kind of work-in-progress on it. Your desk houses a clutter of sketches along with your math textbook, and he recognizes some of your “inspiration photos” propped up.
Including the two he’d taken!
Which is fucking weird because they aren’t great. He can feel his cheeks getting warm, and he twists a lock of hair and forces his eyes to look elsewhere…
A painting of a vase filled with blood red roses that appear to be melting catches Eddie’s eye, and he’s not even a flower guy.
‘There’s beauty in the macabre and morbid, too,’ you’d once told him.
Yeah.
“Eddie can you grab the trash can…”
Ah shit.
He’d been mostly ignoring you talking Lindsay into going to sleep, but she’s sitting back up now and you have a hand on her shoulder to keep her from listing sideways. Eddie snags the small garbage by your desk and shoves it in front of her.
“M’fine…”
“Take a few deep breaths just in case,” Eddie advises.
“M’not gonna be sick…”
Oh she’s going to be at some point.
No doubts there.
“Just in case, Linds…”
“I’m not!”
Awesome. An argumentative drunk.
“Shhh….”
“I jus’ wanted to have fun,” Lindsay throws her hands over her face.
…or maybe a weepy drunk?
“You did, Linds…”
“I did?”
“Totally”
You manage to get her to start those deep breaths, then.
“Hey, what’s g—” the door to your room creaks open. “Eddie?”
Dustin is standing in the doorway in sweatpants and a Gremlins t-shirt looking utterly bewildered to see his friend in his house after midnight.
His eyes go wider once he surveys the rest of the room.
“What the hell? Is she… …drunk?” he takes a guess with less than his usual confidence.
“Shh!” you shush him with an angry wave of your hand.
Eddie yanks Dustin into the room by the sleeve and closes the door quietly behind him.
“Yeah, dude – just be cool,” Eddie leads by talking softly.
“Sure, yeah,” Dustin schools his face like this is, in fact, old hat.
Except for the way his eyes keep darting back to Lindsay in surprised interest. Little Henderson is precious like that sometimes.
“She’s fine”
Which, of course, is the moment Linday finally hurls into the trash can that she was so confident she wouldn’t be needing..
“Aw – sick! Ugh, s–”
Eddie clamps a hand over Dustin’s mouth before you have a chance to angry-hush him again. Just to be safe, he hustles him out the door and across the hall to the other room with a light on.
“What happened to playing it cool?” Eddie chides as he closes the door behind them.
“Vomit is gross,”Dustin defends himself. “Why do people even drink?”
Woof. That feels like a conversation fraught with landmines.
“...I dunno, man.”
Dustin scoffs.
“Were you drinking?”
“I had a beer”
Or two. But that’s not Freshmen level business.
“...were you guys at your place again?”
Now that Dustin isn’t distracted by drunk Lindsay, his eyes are narrowed and he’s looking a little too shrewd for Eddie’s liking.
Ugh.
“Nah, not this time. I just ran into them…”
“Ran into them where?”
“Whoa, what’s with the inquisition?” Eddie tries to brush him off and starts getting a good look around.
Unlike your room, this one is about what he’d have expected. Lots of nerdy tchotchkes Eddie wouldn’t mind a second look at. Some photos. Some shit that looks like it’s made from Erector Set pieces.
“Ran. Into. Them. Where?” Dustin insists.
“Just some party out at Loch Nora,” Eddie sticks with the truth.
It’s easiest to keep straight. Besides, it’s actually kind of hard to lie to Little Henderson. He’s a stickler for the details. Best to only bend the truth if necessary.
“Ew – with those kids?!” he goes full judgmental.
Hah!
“Aren’t you still in love with Harrington? He’s, like, King of the Fancy House Brigade,” Eddie reminds him.
“He’s different,” Dustin jabs a finger into the air.
Ugh.
“So I hear…”
And Eddie still can’t quite make that compute, honestly. You’ve backed up your brother’s claims, but it’s just not right. Not natural. It doesn’t fit.
“...so what were those two doing at a party anyway?” Dustin gets back on track like he is wont to do.
Little fucker.
“Nothing. I don’t know. Just hanging out…”
“...did you invite them?”
Oh, that’s rich! And is there an accusation in Little Henderson’s tone? Eddie isn’t sure how to feel about that. Not for nothing, but Dustin generally acts like he likes Eddie more than you (it’s a crock, but he goes out of his way to give the impression).
“Nope. Total coincidence”
Dustin is looking him over. Scrutinizing. Then he eyes the door like he wants to barge back across the hall and check this against your story. He doesn’t. He’s too busy thinking, apparently. Calculating.
In lieu of further questions Eddie keeps perusing.
A large Walkie Talkie by Dustin’s bed catches his interest, an–
Dustin clears his throat.
“What are your intentions with my sister?”
Come again!
Eddie spins to find Dustin is wearing a stern face now, and he has both arms crossed over his chest. Ooookay. Mission failure. Definitely left him to his thoughts for way too long.
“Christ…”
“I’m not stupid, you know”
Yeah.
Yeah, okay. That’s fair.
He’s not stupid. Maybe Eddie should’ve been expecting this. Actually. Scratch that. He sort of had been expecting some sort of fuss after Dustin found out you were hanging at his place with him and the guys. He’d assumed it would be something along the lines of “Ew, man – why?!”
He hadn’t expected an actual interrogation. Nothing…protective? Is that what’s going on here? Because Eddie could take Dustin – easy. Surely Dustin myst recognized that.
“I know you aren’t, but –”
“Good,” Dustin cuts him off. “Because I see what’s going on. And…well. Y ou know how much I like you and respect you…”
“C’mon, dude,” Eddie appeals with a sigh. “Don’t say anything that’s going to embarrass us both…”
Please. Just no.
Don’t do it.
Dustin thrusts out a palm before Eddie can protest further. Glares up at him.
“This is my job…now are you going to shut up?”
Ugh.
Fucking fine.
“Sure”
“Thank you. Now. As I was saying,” he plows on in a very Dustin-ly and self-important fashion. “I like you…and you are much cooler than her, so frankly I don’t know what you’re even thinking…”
“We’re–”
“But,” Dustin overrides again. “Family. Ya know?”
Uh. Sort of.
“Yeah”
“Good. Because she’s still my sister, and boring or not – I choose her”
That’s actually pretty cute.
“...over me?” Eddie can’t help but heckle. “Over D&D? Over Hellfire?”
Dustin looks pained about it, truth be told.
“Yes…which is why I’m telling you to be nice. That’s all I ask. It shouldn’t be too fucking hard.”
“Jesus Henderson…”
Going hard now. You know…by Freshie standards.
“Things don’t work out?” Dustin shrugs theatrically. “Fine. Young love. C’est la vie…”
“Now we’re in French?”
Maybe Eddie has rubbed off on the little dingus too much.
“Just be nice about it,” he ignores Eddie entirely. “Because if you disrespect her or hurt her or make her cry … …I will have to make you disappear.”
Eddie waits, but Dustin seems perfectly serious about this declaration.
Which is some harsh shit.
Eddie raises an eyebrow.
“...you know I could beat the snot out of you, right?” he checks because it feels imperative to have that highground.
“See, you’d think so…but I’m a scientist,” Dustin smiles innocently. Too innocently. “Which means I could do it – if I wanted to. You wouldn’t ….even…see. It. Coming.”
Whoa.
“Damn…”
And, ya know. It’s not like Eddie is quite buying it, but still. Respect for even going there.
“Science,” Dustin wiggles his fingers in a tah-dah way.
One last flourish.
“...for the record, I do respect her,” Eddie throws that on the table. “I like her a lot, and…well. I don’t know what we’re doing yet, b–”
“Ew, don’t,” pretense falls and Dustin pulls a face.
Eddie grins.
“What? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to say after that?” he waves his hand at Dustin. “The Shovel Talk, or whatever?”
“I dunno,” the younger boy shrugs. “My first one…”
“Yeah? You practice it, big guy?” Eddie ruffles Dustin’s hair.
He grumbles.
Eddie takes that as a “yes” and he’s not sure why he feels a little proud.
“...did I do okay?”
Ugh! This dork is the best. The absolute actual best.
“Yeah”
“Yeah?” he smiles wide.
“Uh-huh…started off a little warm and fuzzy there, but you pulled it together. Got fuckin’ dark…”
Dustin chortles and Eddie can’t help joining him.
“Seriously, tough,” Dustin’s proud glee disappears without warning. “Don’t be a dickwad.”
Eddie wavers, too.
“I hear you…”
“Cool,” Dustin’s smiling again.
“...we good?”
“Yeah. Totally.”
“Good. Now. Tell me – is this Little Susie?” Eddie inches toward the photo on Dustin’s desk.
Dustin doesn’t mind, and they kill a few minutes talking about her and some little radio they’re trying to repair together long distance.
Eddie excuses himself once the radio talk winds down. It’s late and he should probably just make sure you girls are good and head out.
He knocks lightly on your door before letting himself in.
“Hey,” you come to meet him near the door.
Music is playing quietly, and Lindsay is curled up on the edge of the bed in a hoodie she hadn’t been wearing earlier.
“She’s alright?”
“Mmhmm – thanks for distracting Dustin…”
“Sure, sure”
Eddie shoves his hands in his coat pockets. He wants to keep inspecting every inch of your room, but it’s definitely time to bail. Besides, e might get an invite back if he keeps playing his cards right.
“It’s weird,” you whisper, and he finds you watching him. “That you’ve never been in here before…”
“I was just thinking that,” he grins.
“I’m so comfortable at your place, and this is only your second time over…”
Something warm seeps through Eddie’s chest when you say this. Nevermind that he could have guessed you like his place since you keep coming over…it feels grounding to hear. Like this evening is natural.
“Well, I’ll be back,” he promises. “...and I like your room.”
Your eyes alright, and you nibble at your lip to try hiding the smile.
“Thanks...”
“Is your mom gonna flip about…” he casts a last glance at Lindsay.
“I don’t think so,” you look over at her, too. “I was safe and drove her home. She might lecture a little, but…she feels for Lindsay. And she’d kind of rather be a soft place to land instead of another adult me and my friends need to hide from. You know?”
Soft place to land.
No wonder you have a knack for spotting those.
“That’s good…”
Then you’re ushering him out, and Eddie tries not to think it’s a bummer.
“Thank you for helping,” you speak at a normal volume once you’re both outside on the front stoop.
“Ah. Yeah…wasn’t anything…”
He’s met far more annoying drunks. Plus, he’ got a little insight into your world for his trouble. Not much to complain about.
“Sure it was …I’m glad you happened to be out tonight.
Fuck but so is he.
Who knows when the right moment would’ve come up to confess this crush he’s harboring. In a way…he thinks he’d known you would be on the same page. The looks you share. All those conversations. It just felt like there had to be something more. Right?
He just hadn’t wanted to risk a chance he’d been projecting. Seeing what he wanted just because he’s so into you. Getting caught in his thoughts, of which he has so many
“Me, too,” he smiles. “All the gin joints in all the world, or something, huh?”
“Look at you – that’s not even a horror flick,” your smile is playful.
“Ha-ha,” he mock-laughs along. “I’m more sophisticated than I look.
“Yeah, I guess you are…”
Ooof. The way you’re looking at him, your eyes crinkled and biting at your lip again… he could frame that.
Nope! Don’t be weird.
“Well I guess I’ll get g–”
Before Eddie can back off of the front step, you lean in …loop a finger in his wallet chain …and tug him forward. He looks down to watch you do it and obeys your light pull easily.
Then his vision is all clouded up in you.
You step forward to meet him in those last inches. You’re craning up. Your face is right there.
In his space.
In his air.
He knows what’s coming.
Somehow your lips on his still manage to feel like a surprise.
You bump against him, so Eddie flattens his hand against your back to steady you before his mind even wraps around the facts.
You are kissing him.
On the mouth.
Not the hair or hand, which he had snuck in before. Half-joking moves. Cheap. Fucking bullshit in comparison.
You are warm and soft and – fuck.
He’s not even kissing you back?!
Eddie’s circuits come back online, and he presses into you just before you retreat. He follows your warmth when you lean back to stand flat.
Your eyes look big this close up. They’re dancing.
“...that was okay?”
“Was it okay?” his eyes widen.
What a… what a ridiculous question! Why would you ask? Maybe his stupid face is doing something it shouldn’t.
“Well…I hoped it wouldn’t be lame as long as I was the one to start it,” you grin.
Lame.
Oh! So you’ve got jokes right now.
Eddie drops his forehead onto yours and heaves a breathy chuckle.
“Not lame…”
“No?” you beam.
“Uh-uh..”
You tilt your face up to steal another kiss – only it’s not stealing, right? Eddie is ready this time and moves with you to slot his mouth against yours. When your lips part, he licks in. Eager now.
(Well. Eager always.)
You hum in response…a moan, maybe. Are you moaning?
Jesus H.
He tightens his arm around your back to haul you closer and clenches his fist into your sweater. His other hand is cupping your jaw. Keeping you close.
So close.
He knows you can’t get carried away on your front porch of all places, but damn. Damn it, there’s no such thing as close enough.
“Definitely not lame…” you mumble against his lips, ducking your chin just enough to catch a breath. Two.
Eddie is sure he has no need for such trivial shit as air. So he only nods mutely and tilts your face back to kiss you more.
You’re smiling. He can feel it.
He smiles back despite this most serious business.
“Eddie…”
“Hmmm?”
“...you were leaving. Remember?”
“You stopped me”
You laugh. Then your hands wind further around his waist, lighting his spine on fire as your fingers crawl up, up, up…
Yes, this is totally your fault.
The porch light flashes on and off several times, and you both jolt.
“...tell me that’s Dustin and not my mom…” you squeeze your eyes shut.
Sure as shit.
He can see Dustin’s face pressed up to the window. He points to Eddie, then drags a finger across his neck.
Eddie smirks because it’s hard to find Dustin’s warnings at all intimidating when he’s busy being so fucking delighted. Besides, he is being respectful – you’d started this; he’s just reciprocating the gesture.
“...kiss me again and he’ll go away.”
You snicker as he pushes his hand up your jaw and into your hair, but you let him tug you in for the kiss.
Probably a last kiss.
For now, that is. Eddie has big intentions to pick this up again ASAP.
If the warm slide of your tongue against his made his nerves funny, it’s nothing to the way you suck a little on his lip when you pull away. That zings straight to his gut …and lower.
Oh yeah.
Real big plans.
“Christ. You’re gonna kill me…”
“Never,” you whisper.
Hah. Sure. Tell it to his hardon, babe.
He has half a mind to shove one of your hands to the crotch of his jeans to prove it. To make sure you know just what he’s going to die from …but that’s just his dramatic side talking.
Think of other shit, dirtbag.
Of Vecna.
Of Lucas’s basketball team.
Of Jake Matanski trying to get you a drink…
Yup. That does it
“So you say,” Eddie keeps his disagreement simple as he lets his hands slide from around you.
You crank your neck to quickly check over your shoulder for Dustin, but he’s already disappeared.
“I’ll kill him slowly when I get inside,” you promise when you turn back around, all innocent eyes even as you vow retribution.
You haven’t removed your hands from him yet, and you sadly realize it now. You step back. Some heat leeches off of Eddie when you do.
It should be illegal.
“Nah, don’t – it’ll fuck up my campaign, ya know?”
“That’s what you’re worried about?”
Eddie laughs because: fuck no!
Buuuut he doesn’t think he’s supposed to mention Dustin’s little chat – at least, not yet. Not unless it becomes trouble. Dustin’s threats had been at least half funny, but there had been a true sentiment behind it all…and Eddie is pretty sure he respects it.
“Well...you kissed me again, so it’s not like he fucked this up or anything. I think we can let him live.”
“...this, huh?” you grin.
Eddie nods and takes that first step off the porch now.
“This…”
They can hash out the details of that later. For now, he’ll just drive home thinking about your mouth. And your other soft parts all pressed up against his front.
“Goodnight”
“Night”
If he maybe, possibly does a little hop-skip to his van, well. That’s entirely his business.
Summary: You all have a great night. Unexpectedly, you and Eddie owe it to Nancy Wheeler.
Warning: None
A/N Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader.
< Click here to find previous chapters >
Hellfire Club doesn’t take a break for the holidays.
You shouldn’t be surprised.
You aren’t, really. You’d just nodded along last week when Dustin asked if you would give him a lift to and from Mike’s house instead. He'd given you the times and demanded you write it down somewhere so you couldn’t possibly forget!
You’d urged him to slow his roll and told him to ask again more politely.
He had.
Eventually.
With an eye-roll.
But, once he did, you had agreed to do some amended Friday chauffeuring.
Which is why you are now sitting around the kitchen with Nancy Wheeler.
Dustin had waited until your arrival to inform you the game was going long (“Eddie added a surprise for the holiday! And, yes, Mrs Wheeler said it’s fine!) so it’s this or head downstairs and risk being accused of rushing him.
And, anyway, you like Nancy just fine. You might not be best friends, but she's nice and you've known her a long time. You had started off talking about Jonathan – easy – and drifted to talk of college.
Incidentally, it’s not a topic you love.
It makes you nervous even though it’s a conversation that comes up all the time these days. You just…don’t really know what you want to do or where you'll go to do that mysterious something.
You have applied to a few state colleges because a big part of you would like to get out of Hawkins…but you’ve also applied to community college so you can stick close. Partially because of being lost re: the future, but…you are also reluctant to leave Dustin and your mom.
Maybe that’s lame, but those are the facts.
You certainly don’t have the detailed plans that Nancy does.
You are happy to listen, though. You can picture her ideas working out just as she says – she’s always had a quiet determination about her that makes what she says seem obvious.
“...I can’t wait,” she concludes her point about moving away.
You understand that – truly. Hawkins has had some bad memories for both of you. And yet…part of you squirms at her steadfast declaration.
Which is fine. You remind yourself Ms Kelley, the guidance counselor, says people cope in their own way and in their own time. She also says it’s normal not to have your whole future mapped out at 19 years old …
But sometimes it sure seems like you’re the only one.
When conversation lulls you let Nancy know you can go join the crew downstairs. If she has better things to do, you don’t mind.
“No, don’t worry – I won’t subject you to that,” she laughs.
You don’t tell her you don’t think it’s so bad.
Still, the two of you keep chatting about school and the holidays, and you try not to let yourself think she’s only doing this because her dad is in the living room and expects her to be a good hostess.
Feet eventually come plodding up the stairs; Mike and Lucas buzz through without a word.
“We are going to check out some of Mike’s old figurines!” Dustin blurts at you on the way past.
“...I guess I’ll just sit here,” you gripe.
“Cool!” he ignores your tone entirely.
Awesome.
Jeff and Eddie emerge next with more poise.
“Hey,” Jeff lingers to greet the both of you.
“Hey – sorry to go late,” Eddie beseeches you.
“S’okay – Dustin should’ve said something,” you assume this Holiday Special was forewarned about and it had either slipped his mind or he thought you wouldn't agree to the timetable.
“Yeah. I could’ve given you a heads-up, though,” Eddie insists, and you wonder if it’s for your convenience or if he thinks he should’ve let you know your normal Friday is…maybe forfeit. You glance at the stove clock.
Gareth shoulders past Eddie with a little smirk behind his back.
“Next time,” you assure him and watch Gareth and Jeff shunt each other away toward the stairs.
“For sure…you’re cool waiting a while longer?” he throws a thumb up to gesture to the next floor. “I can give him a ride…”
“Oh, it’s okay. I’m here now."
“Yeah…Wheeler, you good?” he checks with her, too.
“... …very good,” you catch a tone from her.
You hear Mr. Wheeler mutter a “guess I’m good, too” from the next room, but Eddie either doesn’t hear him or Mike had already advised that he could be more or less ignored.
“...’kay. We’ll be back…”
He jogs to the stairs to catch up and sends a last small wave before disappearing past the landing.
When you straighten around, Nancy is biting her lip to (poorly) smother a smile.
“...what?”
She widens her crinkled eyes and points up the stairs.
Ugh.
“Stop”
Nancy hisses your name in a surprised little gasp.
“Don’t”
“...you two?” she keeps her voice down because she is a sensible girl despite the giddy look growing in her eyes.
“No,” You tell her, though somehow when you say it…it doesn’t feel true. “I don’t now,” you whisper; then, more definitively: “No.”
“Uh-huh. Okay. Out with it”
You scowl at her.
“This isn’t an investigative journalist moment, Nance”
“Duh,” she hunches over the table. “But still. What’s the deal? Because that was…something.”
The deal.
The deal?
You don’t know, which is half your problem, really.
Long gone are the days when you lamented not being “cool” or having a whole gaggle of best friends and a trail of ex-boyfriends. However, you have recently been wishing that Eddie didn’t make you feel so…unsure. That you had more experience with this flirty, are-we-aren’t-we excitement so that you would know what should be done or if it’s just you or…or something.
Lindsay knows your side of things, but she’s declared herself more clueless than you. So. Ya know – not helpful.
Nancy, on the other hand…
Hmm.
“He…seems nice,” she encourages you. “I mean…I don’t really know him outside of Mike and the Club, but…” she shrugs, unable to offer much more substance.
But it’s a nice gesture.
You remind yourself she’s dating Jonathan, who was a total pariah for a while, so…so she doesn’t blindly buy stereotypes and rumors.
“He is nice,” you confirm.
Nancy smiles and leans happily across the table.
You cast a wary glance toward the living room where Mr Wheeler is watching TV, but you can’t imagine he cares about teenage gossip…
So you give Nancy the broad strokes of the situation in a hushed tone. She eats it up with wide, earnest eyes and approving nods along the way.
“... I’ve got an idea…”
Those simple words lead you to The Hideout the following Tuesday with Nancy and your respective brothers. Plus Lucas, of course – still in sweaty practice gear under his sweatshirt.
The boys are stoked.
Nancy seems cool as a cucumber.
You …are wondering if you’re a total idiot.
You shouldn’t worry so much, you know. This is a public space. Even if it wasn’t, Eddie has invited you to see the band before, so…
Maybe you’re feeling squirrely about lying.
The lie being that Nancy is looking into writing a story about Corroded Coffin for the school newspaper (though she has assured you she truly might if something strikes her fancy). She invited you once she saw that you knew the members of the band better than she did.
Simple as that.
According to Nancy, anyway.
Your brothers had certainly bought it when you invited them along as cover. They didn't question it even a little once they heard where you were going -- yes. Duh! Let's go!
It had made so much sense when Nancy laid it out…
“...isn’t he in a band?” she recalled what little she knew about Eddie beyond her brother’s game.
“Yeah”
“That’s pretty cool…so do you go? You know, to cheer him on?”
You pictured groupies in cheerleader skirts and grinned.
“No. I’ve never been”
“Why not!?”
You opened your mouth to answer but realized you didn’t really have a reason. You’ve talked about his band plenty. You just…haven’t taken the next step.
“I don’t know…”
You’d been keeping an eye on the stairs, so you missed the calculating look on Nancy’s face at first… …
“We need to go”
You snapped your gaze back to her. Come again? And who is “we”?
“What?”
“I’ve seen their posters. They play at The Hideout sometimes. I’ve never been there…”
This fact didn’t seem like a deterrent, though. The cogs were definitely turning in Nancy’s mind.
It felt exciting.
But you also wanted to tell her to shut up.
“Yeah,” you confirmed anyway. “On Tuesdays...”
“Every Tuesday?” Nancy lit up.
You couldn't help that your chest hitched liked her sudden anticipation was contagious.
“Pretty sure. But, look, I don’t really think it’s your scene…”
You weren’t sure it was yours, either, and maybe you should’ve said that because Nancy straightened her shoulders in offense.
“...I have to get used to anywhere being my scene,” she declared…then she was suddenly smiling. “That’s it. I’ll say I’m checking out a possible story for the school paper…”
“...about music?”
“Maybe,” Nancy shrugged. “I’ll come up with a possible angle. You never know, but it’ll be my reason to be there. I saw you knew Eddie and made you come with me!”
“Nancy…”
“Don’t you want to?’
Yes.
Obviously.
Of course.
Your heart was happy with the idea already. Your mind was the problem – your thoughts were already spinning to what you’d wear and what you’d say, and would you stand out like a sore thumb? Will the guys think it’s silly for you to be there? Would Eddie?!
…you didn’t think he would.
Fact remained you could be totally lame, though.
“And Mike and Dustin can come!”
You knew Dustin would love that. And, well, you had definitely thought about going. The idea that Eddie would know you came for him always gave you pause…
But.
That hadn’t stopped him from coming to your house the previous week, had it? No. Probably because he wasn’t as ridiculous as you and your silly worries…
Nancy was handing you a very nicely wrapped solution - if Eddie gave you shit for being there you didn’t have to blush through whatever “Well, I thought it was time I see you in action” answer you could come up with. Now you had a reason, however contrived it may be. Buffers, too…
“I do want to check it out,” you admitted.
Nancy downright wiggled in her seat. More for the sake of a small scheme and something new to do than a deep investment in whoever you may have a crush on, probably.
“Dustin and Mike will definitely be in,” you added.
Nancy’s hair bounced with her nod.
“They’ll be annoying, but I’ll play wingman,” she promised in a soft whisper as something one of the guys said upstairs drifted down to your ears. “Wing-woman…”
“Nancy, it really isn’t like that…”
A “yet” played in your mind, but you never said it aloud.
Her answering smile was too knowing for your taste.
Geeze. Just how obvious were you?
You’re feeling super obvious as your little crew finds a table at the sizable but sparse bar. The five of you are bringing the median age of the place down by quite a bit, but no one is batting an eye.
You suspect no one bats an eye at much of anything around here.
There is a low stage at one side of the bar. Drums and guitars are set up with a couple mic stands, but there’s no band members in sight. You picture them out back smoking cigarettes by the trash cans…maybe there are some old folding chairs sitting around, too.
The visual seems…right. And good.
‘We aren’t glamorous, but everybody starts somewhere,’ Eddie has told you. 'I mean – Hetfield and Ulrich found each other in some dinky newspaper, and now we have Metallica! You just never know…”'
He wasn’t even cocky when he talked about that…maybe not even optimistic. Just open. Sure that something could happen.
‘Anyway, playing for anyone is a blast,’ he’d also told you.
“Anyone” is currently a partially full bar of half-interested folks. More than the “few drunks” he keeps claiming make up the crowd.
Still. Your little crew has increased the audience…and you reassure yourself Eddie will love that. He will. He won’t think this is lame.
As sure as you are of that fact, you still feel a nervous type of excitement while you shed your coat.
“I’m not sure they’ll come to the table,” Nancy is taking a more practical eye to the situation. “I’ll go grab drinks…”
“They’ll serve us beer?” Mike asks in awe.
It earns him a pitying sort of look from his sister.
“No. You can have a Coke,” she explains.
You aren’t convinced they would care about your IDs here, but yeah - you’re not drinking with your brothers.
“I’ll help you,” Lucas offers since you two aren’t his sisters and so he’s compelled to be on top tier behavior.
Nancy smiles and leads him up to the bar with her.
“...are you going to drink?” Dustin eyes you dubiously.
“No,” you keep the party line. “And if you even think about trying to sneak something, then –”
“Oh please,” he shows no interest in your threats.
“I mean it, Dust”
You give Mike the stern look, too, in Nancy’s honor.
“What do I care about alcohol?” Dustin goes on. “Kill my brain cells? Yeah right – they’re my free ride,” he taps his temple.
Freshmen.
“Good,” is all you say.
You sling your coat over the back of a chair to signal finality.
“They’re late going on…” Mike is studying his watch.
“That’s Metal,” Dustin states like it’s obvious, and he has already flopped into his seat ready to wait.
Your chortle as you sit down, too.
Nancy and Lucas are back in a couple minutes to slide glasses around the table.
“Hope you didn’t actually want a drink,” Nancy leans in to mutter to you once she sits at your side. “That bartender was already a little leery of the boys…I didn’t want to push it.”
“Really?” you glance at the bar, wondering if you’ll see him watching or heading over.
“Yeah, but I explained we go to school with the band – he thought it was nice we came out,” Nancy smiles.
It’s clear she is pleased to have gotten the proverbial greenlight from the establishment. You are, too, honestly. It eases some part of you that was tense about bringing Dustin somewhere he might not be allowed.
The boys’ muted chatter kicks up with some nudging and hand gesturing.
You look away from Nancy and see the band file in and head to their instruments from somewhere stage left. Eddie jumps the small distance to lope toward his guitar, and you grin.
Then you school yourself because Nancy is near and far too observant.
Between exchanging words and getting themselves settled, it takes a minute before they notice they have friends in the crowd.
It’s something of a waterfall.
Jeff spots them first and does a double-take. Smirking, he waves a hand at Matt and toes at the back of Eddie’s knee to nod at the group. Matt gives a subdued, but seemingly pleased, grimace-grin to Dustin and Mike waving obnoxiously.
Eddie beams when he takes you all in.
For a second…it feels like the gesture is just for you.
Which. You know. It’s silly. Mike and Dustin are the ones sending the big waves and bouncing happily in their seats. You aren’t the standout here, though you are excited.
….but you enjoy the moment of feeling Eddie is staring right at you. This whole night is an indulgence, really, so you can give yourself this.
None of the guys deign to wave back, but they nod in acknowledgement. Gareth clocks the others’ attention and raises a drum stick in a vague “hello” before counting them in.
Honestly, Dustin’s cheer of “hell yeah!” is pretty spot-on.
They’re good.
Like Eddie had told you, they primarily play covers, most of which you are familiar with. Some of it is a little reigned in, and the idea they’d been told they were too loud (or something similar) makes you grin as you nod along to a song.
Meanwhile, Dustin is thrashing his head a little harder…he’s probably the superior fan. Which is fine. These are pretty good guys to look up to, all things considered.
Nancy…doesn’t look like she dislikes the music, but she looks more interested in the whole event overall than the music.
Fair enough.
The GoGos are more her vibe. Or ABBA – you know she likes them.
“Oh…” she perks up later in the set.
You’d been busy watching the bathroom for Dustin’s return, but you look round and Nancy is eyeing the stage with renewed interest. Everything looks the same up there…but as you listen you realize what you’re hearing.
“Is...this Madonna?” Lucas crinkles his nose just lightly.
It is.
Unrecognizable at first, but this is definitely ‘Into the Groove.’ Or, rather, Corroded Coffin’s take on it.
“That’s cool,” Nancy looks appreciative.
You are smiling, too. Beaming, maybe.
The band had taken music that wasn’t for them and shaped it to their tastes! It feels like a very Eddie thing to do. (You know it must have been a team-effort, but the fact remains…it fits).
You love it.
A couple songs later, they do the same thing with an Elton John song! Rather than reproduce Black Sabbath or Megadeth again, they speed things up and go harder on the lyrics to make it a whole thing.
All their music is enjoyable, but you can’t help your smile widening as they fit in a guitar solo on ‘I’m Still Standing,’ of all the damn things.
“...they’re good, right?” Nancy’s wearing a fresh grin.
“Yeah,” you laugh.
She waggles her eyebrows at you – only, you think, because the boys are turned away and occupied. Good - because you know you blush.
“Eddie’s good,” she leans closer so she doesn’t have to talk too loudly.
Smiling, you nod again.
“...I hadn’t given a lot of thought to who sang…” she adds.
Eddie. It’s Eddie. Matt, too, as needed.
“Yeah. It’s…cool…”
It’s hot, is what it is, but you can’t bring yourself to say so aloud.
But it is.
So hot.
Eddie looks good up front. Sturdy. Sure. In control. Happy . Even if he wasn’t so good on the guitar, you think maybe he’d be able to hide it behind his exuberance.
“Very cool...”
Nancy is smirking, and you hate her.
Except for how you don’t – because she’d gotten you here. Who knows how long you would’ve waited otherwise. For that, Nancy is awesome.
…but her smirk can go to hell.
“Glad we came?” She checks quietly as songs transition.
“Definitely”
She knocks you with her elbow, still grinning.
You don’t recognize the next song, so you let yourself just kind of bask in appreciating simply making it here...
“Thank you, Hawkins,” Eddie is half-shouting a couple minutes later.
The loudest applause – and a sharp whistle, courtesy of Mike – come from your table, but there’s a modest smattering of clapping throughout the place.
Eddie says something to the guys and gestures, then hops off the stage and cuts across the room in your direction.
Well.
Not just you. But, once again, it feels like it for a moment…
“Dude!” Dustin greets him.
Eddie is short of breath but wearing a bright smile when he reaches the edge of the table. He is practically floating…and he looks a little sweaty. Should that be gross?
…because it totally isn’t.
“Hey…” he beams around, then lands his eyes on you. “You guys sticking around?”
“Yeah,” Dustin nods.
Eddie laughs.
You glance at Nancy, who nods.
“Yes…”
“Cool, yeah…we have to go clear-up some of our shit, but we’ll be back in a bit…cool,” he adds again, laughs a little, and then leaves in a ruffle of black jeans and t-shirt to hurry back up front to do his share of packing up.
“Should…we help?” Mike asks the table.
“Wanna be a groupie?” Dustin laughs.
“I’m just saying”
“We could…” Lucas shrugs.
“Dude, do you even know how?” Dustin scoffs as if he does.
Thus ensues bickering.
Typical.
Knowing it might only jazz them up more, you head up tot he bar for fresh drinks. Its better than sitting and waiting and getting antsy.
.
Eddie’s more hyped than usual to head back inside after they pack up his van and share a joint. Walshe – the bartender – will usually let them have a drink or two, and they typically chat with some regulars, but tonight …tonight feels like having actual fans. People who came just for Corroded Coffin.
They are friends…but still.
It’s a very cool feeling, is the thing.
The thrilled feeling stutters awkwardly in his chest when they go back inside and you are missing from the table. Eddie's rational mind kicks in soon enough, and he knows you must be around because the other four are still there.
His eyes skim toward the restroom of their own accord and, on the way, he spots you up at the bar.
Eureka!
His feet reroute him in your direction.
You are wedged between a barstool and one of the regulars who must've wandered over to chat with you. He’s a middle-aged guy Eddie has seen around before. Quite dude. Maybe you know him.
Eddie can’t help giving you a once over. You look nice. Dark tights under black shorts and some slouchy kind of sweater. It fits in. Cute but grungier than your normal schoolwear…and you certainly stand out less than Wheeler in her blouse…like you’d thought about where you were coming and why.
He tries not to think too hard on the idea you’d done so for him.
It’s kind of hard when you look this good, though…
“Hey Elder Henderson,” he arrives at your side
You start just a little, but your face lightens when you see him, and a smile splits over your face…Eddie’s not ashamed to say this makes him feel nice.
“Hi…”
You hurry to step back, pushing a stool aside to make room for him.
The guy who’d been talking to you huffs when Eddie steps into the space you leave. Eddie glances his way, then back to you… …you continue to smile his welcome.
O-kayyyy…
The other man moves off, and Eddie might normally apologize for interrupting… but that’s not the vibe he’s gettin
“Thanks,” you sigh.
“...yeah?”
You nod and glance past him. Eddie follows your gaze, but the guy is climbing into a stool few seats away now.
“He was kind of weird…”
Shit.
Jesus fucking Chr –ugh!
Eddie turns his body fully toward you to block you from view.
He should’ve fucking clocked that. He’s been to enough concerts and shifty venues to know better, hasn’t he? He’s pretended to be someone’s boyfriend a few times until they could find their friends – he knows some people just want to ruin a good thing with selfishness or behavior they think is funny or…well.
People are douchebags, is the thing.
No surprise there.
“I can grab whatever you’re up here for if you want to go back to the table,” he advises.
It’s the least he can do. You’d come here to see him, after all.
Err. Ya know. To see the band, of which he is simply a part…
“Nah,” you brush that off and relax a little with your elbow on the bar. “Can’t miss the chance to be seen with the lead singer…”
Ooof. Eddie has to stop himself from puffing up his shoulders, but he has to admit to himself that he enjoys the implication.
“You forgot talented guitarist…” he plays it cool and teasing instead.
You fling your head back in a laugh.
“Oh, I didn’t forget…”
He smiles.
“...I like the headband,” you add, looking him over.
Shitdamn, he is going to melt! Is he melting?
He loves hearing you notice him. If that's wrong then, well...too late.
“Yeah?” he pretends he absolutely isn’t blushing. “Matt thinks it’s a little much…”
The headband is both a vibe he likes and a practical way to keep his hair out of his face when he gets into the music. If you like it, he’ll keep it on his list of shit to remember for gigs.
“Eh, what does he know – he doesn’t have your hair…”
That feels like a compliment. Maybe not explicit, but Eddie will definitely tally it in the complement column. No one can stop him.
He should compliment you, too
…not like it would be hard. You look so nice. He doesn’t want to sound like a weirdo, though - especially in light of the dude behind him. Is commenting on your eyeliner rude? Does complimenting your outfit give away that he’d been looking at your body?
Shit.
He’s totally overthinking, and he’s not necessarily his best when he’s overthinking…
Maybe he’ll just say nothing.
“So,” you fill the silence his contemplation left. “Madonna, huh?”
Eddie laughs and latches onto the topic.
“You liked that?”
“Yeah. Nancy realized what it was before I did,” you allow her the credit. “You never mentioned you cover anything like that…”
It’s something they’ve been working on this year.
“We call it rehabbing a song,” Eddie smirks. “Gotta make improvements before we’ll play it…”
“Improvements?! Wow...” you laugh, but then look away when the bartender makes his way over.
Walshe is a pretty alright dude. Eddie can’t help but think that if he’d come over to take your order sooner he would’ve discerned the guy down the bar had been bothering you and would’ve gotten him to fuck off.
Hopefully this isn't just ruining The Hideout for you.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” Eddie tenses and watches for you to be put-off by the older man’s greeting. “More soda?”
You give him a genuine smile when you confirm the order, apparently unbothered. Context matters.
Eddie gets that.
“You want something stronger?” Eddie offers quietly. “Walshe usually lets us have a couple drinks…”
“No,” you glance back at the table, then cast Edie a pointed look.
Right.
Brothers. Kind of lame sometimes, he’s gathered. Besides, Eddie isn’t sure Wheeler even likes to hang. She is here, though, so maybe she does…
“Gottcha …so how come you’re here with Wheeler, of all people?” he has to ask.
“...I thought you liked her?”
Eddie blanches.
Then he realizes you aren't implying he likes her likes her. He remembers discussing Nancy and her Yearbook interview with Hellfire Club; he’d told you about it back when you’d first discussed his Douche Rating System.
Christ, but that feels like such a long time ago.
It was only last semester…
“Sure, I like her fine,” Eddie shrugs. “But I didn’t know she was jonesing for live music … …and I didn’t know you’d come to a gig with her.”
Not that he’s picture what it would be like if you came to a gig or anything…
But he had definitely thought you’d show up with Lindsay. The two of you did all sorts of stuff together. Those concerts with Lindsay’s aunt, sleep overs, running off to Somerset for a showing of Rocky Horror Picture Show (Eddie had been highly offended to be left out of that one, and you’d promised he could join the tradition next Fall).
But Nancy Wheeler? Nah, he hadn’t pictured you showing up with her.
…because he pictured nothing. Obviously.
Christ, he lies to himself too fucking much...
“I know,” you laugh but prove his theory. “She was asking me about your band when we were all at the Wheelers over the weekend…”
“She was?”
You look a little squirrely for a moment, but nod in affirmation.
“Mmhmm, she thought it sounded cool and wanted to come in case it would be a good story for the school’s newsletter…”
Oh.
Knowing it was Nancy Wheeler’s idea to come probably shouldn’t cause an itch in Eddie’s chest – you’re here, and that’s what matters. You’d liked the music. You’re into his headband. You’re over here talking to him.
Those things are a big deal, no matter how it had come about.
In fact, he should probably be geeking on the potential publicity of getting mentioned in the school newspaper. It doesn’t have wide distribution or anything, but any word of mouth could help.
“So she dragged you along, huh?”
No, no, no – stop acting put-out!
Ugh! He can’t just be a whiny bitch about it.
“Yeah, she really twisted my arm. Threatened me and everything,” your sarcasm is some balm to his pride.
Which is stupid.
He’s fine.
Everything is fine. More than fine.
“...I’ve been meaning to come check you guys out,” you hand Eddie just what he’d wanted, and his gut swoops. “I even mentioned it to Linds a while back, but…” you shrug.
“...but what?” he eggs you on.
You shrug again. First one shoulder, and then both in an awkward little wiggle.
“I…wasn’t sure if we’re the kind of fans you wanted. I don’t know…”
Eddie laughs.
He can’t help it.
“When did I give you the impression we’re picky about our crowd?” Eddie gestures to the bar at large with a sweep of his hand.
Fucking ridiculous.
“I don’t know!” you laugh a little, too, and you’re blushing but it's cute and he decides not to mention it. “We’re just friends from high school, not…”
You gesture out at the bar, too, but in a smaller and more unsure way.
Eddie rolls his eyes exaggeratedly. So you see it. So you won’t think something like that again.
Then he makes a show of meeting your eye.
“I’m glad you came”
Your smile is small, but it crackles in your eyes. It’s the real deal.
“...me too.”
Eddie’s smirking. He knows he is. How could he not? He’s proud, okay? Of course he wants you to like his band and his music and his people. Obviously he does. He wants…
He just wants, alright?
Maybe he shouldn’t. But he does.
And he kind of thinks that you know it. Kind of thinks you want something, too, sometimes. If he was a little less of a fucking freak then maybe he'd have a better inkling of what his next step should be.
“Gonna come again?” He hedges his bets because he’s a little high on hubris.
And a little weed.
This doesn't feel like a horrible step. Especially because you're holding his gaze and still grinning.
“Umm…yeah. Yeah, probably. If–”
Then Dustin is suddenly shouldering between the two of you.
“What’re you doing up here? Hey man!”
And, yeah, maybe Eddie enjoys Dustin more than a little bit, but boooo! Bad timing! Isn’t he supposed to be smart? Can’t he read the room?
…then again, maybe he’d read it a little too well and bustled his way up here on purpose. That’s very possible.
Eddie honestly hasn’t given a lot of thought to the fact that he’s crushing on his friend’s sister. Maybe because Dustin is young and doesn’t seem like a threat.
Or maybe because, up until very recently, Eddie’s been trying to pretend it’s just a friend thing.
That friends listen to music together and engage in hobbies together. They definitely play games and watch movies together. It’s probably okay to sort of cuddle-up with a friend when doing some of those things, too. And it’s totally normal to worry about a friend and drive across town to check on said friend and their little brother…
And, like…it’s normal to be flattered a friend comes to your gig, yeah? And to check out her legs in her shorts. And...ya know, to stare at her lip when she bites at it like you are right now…
Okay, maybe he’s veering off of normal!
Maybe he should stop pretending to pretend it’s a friend thing.
Whatever.
Dustin’s timing is piss – that’s the point here.
And Eddie wants to hear the rest of your answer…
“These for us?” Dustin is pointing at the sodas Walshe has set in front of you.
“Yes,” Eddie shoves a few into his hands. “We’ll be right there.”
“What about–”
“Nancy told me to come help,” Mike arrives, too, and Eddie hates all of them.
He doesn’t.
…but he does.
“Perfect. Here,” you hand Mike two other glasses. “Eddie’s got to grab a drink; we’ll be right back.”
Mike heads back to the table, and Dusitn looks hesitant but follows behind his friend since it’s apparently now the thing to do. Eddie’s eyes dart to the boys’ destination and finds Nancy watching.
Huh.
…okay.
The other senior isn’t smiling, but she still manages to look pleased somehow. Eddie gets the impression Nancy Wheeler will be a very good journalist.
“... …so you were saying?” he swings his attention back to you.
“Uh…oh, I was saying I’ll probably be able to get Lindsay to join me. To come back here, I mean,” you explain like he could’ve possibly forgotten the subject – perish the thought! “Or I guess Nancy…she was into most of it, I think.”
Eddie remembers you saying Nancy had recognized ‘Into the Groove’ quickly and was digging it. Maybe she’s not such a square.
“...although Dustin might be on high alert anytime I leave the house on a Tuesday now.”
He joins you when you laugh but doesn’t doubt you.
He glances back over to the table and finds that Dustin is the one watching, now. Like he can hear he’s part of the conversation…or like he’s getting suspicious.
Eddie sighs.
As much as he’d like to keep you over here and to himself, it’s probably past time to go join the group.
He waves Walshe down for a few more sodas – he figures he can forgo booze for tonight, too – and helps you carry them back to the table. He saunters as he does, ready to ham-up the adoring fan angle of having all of his favorite nerds here and in one place.
He makes sure to specifically thank Wheeler for coming out, too – even calls her Nancy when he does so, real polite like. He owes her for being the orchestrator of the evening.
And it’s a good night.
Though it’s only a Coke in his hand, it’s fun to talk and laugh with his friends. Sure he likes the compliments to the band, too, but it’s just nice and easy. All of it. Even humoring the requests the Freshmen have for covers (Dustin’s demand for a “Like a Surgeon” cover is flat-out vetoed, though).
Being knee-to-knee with you at the table certainly doesn’t hurt.
Which, ya know…definitely probably isn’t just a friend thing…
Summary: Eddie steps up when you need some support. You can’t help but feel some feelings about it.
Warnings: None
A/N: Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader
< Click here to find previous chapters >
_
It’s fine.
It’s fine, fine, fine.
And yet Eddie feels nervous watching you get out of your car. He’s out on the front couch, knee bouncing excitedly while he works through a cigarette. It’s silly of him.
oh my god he cares so much it’s adorable, also i love the Henderson sibling dynamic, it’s the sweetest thing. thank you for all the work you’ve put in to writing and publishing this! I’ve really enjoyed reading it and I admire how high quality your writing is, it’s never too much or too little, always just the right balance to keep me immersed in the world you’re creating without getting confusing at all, and the relationships that you’ve created here are all super real feeling and entertaining to read :)
Summary: Eddie steps up when you need some support. You can’t help but feel some feelings about it.
Warnings: None
A/N: Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader
< Click here to find previous chapters >
_
It’s fine.
It’s fine, fine, fine.
And yet Eddie feels nervous watching you get out of your car. He’s out on the front couch, knee bouncing excitedly while he works through a cigarette. It’s silly of him.
normally i fangirl in the tags but this fic is simply too good. like i stayed up too late reading it last night and first thing i did when i woke up this morning was pick up where i’d left off.
the banter about music between the two of them is so good!!! the unsureness (is that a word?) about their developing friendship/relationship!!! the touches!!! eddie constantly checking in on her and coming to see her and dustin!!! bestie i will SOB. i can’t wait to see where this goes, i adore them <3
Summary: Eddie steps up when you need some support. You can’t help but feel some feelings about it.
Warnings: None
A/N: Multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader
< Click here to find previous chapters >
_
It’s fine.
It’s fine, fine, fine.
And yet Eddie feels nervous watching you get out of your car. He’s out on the front couch, knee bouncing excitedly while he works through a cigarette. It’s silly of him.
But it’s fine.
He expects you, after all. It’s Friday – this is your guys’ whole thing.
Except for today. Today, Jeff and Gareth had shown shortly after Eddie had gotten home. Which …is good. It’s great! They’re his people, and they are always welcome here.
He just isn’t sure what you will think of the change.
There hadn’t been a chance to give you a heads-up or anything, and there is no guarantee you’ll want to stay.
Which. Is. Fine.
You are perfectly allowed to decide this isn’t the night you’d wanted. Will he be disappointed if you head home? Yeah. But you can, if you want, and he’s just reminding himself it’s fucking fine.
“Hey,” you greet as you drop down next to him.
“Hey…Gareth and Jeff are inside,” he explains.
“Thought so…I recognized Jeff’s truck… “
Right. Of course.
Eddie watches you curl one of your legs up under you because it’s getting a little chilly to spend too much time out here. Also, he thinks, because you might be uncomfortable.
He watches you closely
“They’re in there bickering about what pizzas to order … …that okay with you?”
“Sure,” you nod. “I like pizza as much as anyone…”
Eddie chuffs out a small cloud of smoke. Rolls his head over in your direction.
“C’mon…”
“What?” You just blink at him.
He should let it go. After all, he wants you to stay. He’s convinced himself your comfort trumps his preference, though…
Look at him being all evolved and shit.
“I know you’re not always .. …into groups”
He thinks he sounds kind enough, even though you squirm and look down at the cushion. Eddie doesn’t feel bad; he knows by now you sometimes just have to ease into the idea of being seen.
Which is fair.
“That’s true, but…it’s no problem — the guys are nice”
Though you’d never given any indication of not liking his friends, Eddie feels a strange warmth to hear you state it outright. To know you acknowledge them and don’t think they’re lame or annoying or — geeze, of course you fucking don’t.
In some ways, the novelty of you just hasn’t worn off yet.
Which, honestly, is the kind of thought that makes him want to hoard you to himself. Makes him not want to share the Friday nights the two of you share.
“I would’ve given you a heads up, though,” he vows, trying to really drive home that being understood thing. “This was pretty spur of the moment…”
“Eddie, I get it …it’s fine,” your smile looks genuine.
And just in time, too, because Jeff comes banging out of the trailer.
“One ham and sausage, one pepp— oh hey,” he cuts himself off and waves a little greeting to you.
He looks entirely cool about it.
In fact, he and Gareth had barely had a spare comment to make when Eddie told them you were coming over. He can only assume this means he’ll be receiving a whole heap of shit from them later. They’re just laying in wait to see how things go…
“Let me guess. The other is pepperoni with extra cheese,” Eddie sighs like he doesn’t have anything annoying waiting for him at Sunday band practice. “Why do you waste your breath debating when it’s always the same? They always do this,” he directs an explanation to you.
“We don’t always do shit”
“Sure you do. You think you’ll try something new but you won’t put veggies on pizza –”
“Sacrilegious!”
“You could always try pineapple”
Eddie and Jeff both stare at you for this.
“...what? I heard it’s a thing?”
A thing?
Ew.
“Who says?” Eddie raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t know. Like out in California or something,” you shrug, blushing a little now.
“... …well I’m going to stay here where we eat sausage and pepperoni.”
“But you’ll still argue about it next time,” Eddie leaves your suggestion alone in favor of teasing Jeff further.
“Real welcoming host you are,” Jeff chortles and trudges back inside.
“Mi casa es su casa!”
Jeff doesn’t dignify this with a response, and the door shuts behind him.
“Those pizzas sound okay? I can go hassle them for not asking you…” Eddie is perfectly willing – it probably wouldn’t even take much; you’re kind of a “guest” to the group, and Jeff and Gareth are nice enough guys.
“No. I’m not a picky eater…”
“M’kay…” Eddie accepts that and takes a slow drag from his cigarette while he drops his gaze to you. Searching once more.
“...I told you I’m fine with it,” you spot him coming.
“I’m just saying,” he shrugs. “It won’t be our usual night. I dunno if we’ll watch a movie or what the fuck we’ll do. I’d get it if you want to take off, that’s all…”
Not that you two always follow an agenda.
You don’t do the same things all the time. In fact, last week Eddie wanted to make you listen to as much of the Motorhead discography as possible, and the pair of you had sat on the living room floor and played board games. He’d dug them out of a cupboard where they’d been collecting dust for a while. Old, half-forgotten things Uncle Wayne had bought back when Eddie first came to live with him so they’d have something to do while they got used to one another.
“So much fucking Yahtzee back then…” he’d reminisced aloud.
So you’d played Yahtzee, Connect Four, and Sorry for hours. (With pauses for musical commentary, of course.)
Point is, it’s not like you aren’t flexible. Fridays have become written in stone, but not in a prescribed way…not really.
Eddie just doesn’t want you to feel obligated. Ever.
That’s not so crazy, right?
“...you trying to kick me out, Munson?”
You’re grinning.
“Yeah,” Eddie smirks along. “I’m super embarrassed of you…”
You give him a light kick to the shin, and he can admit to himself he loves it. That he enjoys getting you a little riled up.
“I…could go. If you want to have, like, a guys night…”
You put on a deep, grumbly voice when you say guys night. It’s light and goofy, but Eddie figures it’s a genuine offer.
“Nah …and I don’t sound like that”.
“To me you do”
“...you said I have a nice voice,” he adds, all smirky and smarmy.
You blush a little and he knows he’s got you there. You have, in fact, said that. More than once, actually.
“I was lying back then,” you tilt your chin up with faux-piety.
Eddie laughs.
The two of you head inside when Eddie finishes his smoke.
Turns out Garreth had spotted the board games still stacked in the corner of the living room, so you all play Yahtzee while you wait for the pizza delivery.
It’s a fairly subdued affair.
Until after dinner.
That’s when a rousing game of Sorry gets underway, complete with yelling, cursing, and accusations of purposeful miscounting!
By the second round of the game, everyone just straight throws pieces across the room if they land on an occupied space and get to bump another player. Rowdiness amps up even more by the third go-around because you and Gareth have both won a game, and therefore if either of you win you will be The Sorry Champion.
This title has become an honor more coveted than it has any actual right to be.
It’s fucking fun, is the thing.
And you’re having fun, which thrills Eddie to no end.
This is how games and debates often get when the guys get together. They have a knack for making low-stakes things a little more adrenaline-fueled just for the sake of being shits. Eddie is delighted you’re not only keeping up but enjoying yourself. Even better, you egg the others on in your own quiet ways.
“Pause!” Eddie screeches when the phone rings. “Pause everything – I mean it! Hands up!”
He doesn’t want to miss a moment of the game in case there is someone he can accuse of cheating. He’s two games away from taking The Championship, but anything could happen. Jeff has put cards up his sleeve in the past when playing Rummy, and Eddie won’t trust anyone until the Sorry board is packed up and put away.
Dramatic? Maybe.
But delightful, all in all.
Once everyone holds their palms up in a solemn vow to stop playing, Eddie gets off the floor and lopes over to the phone. It’s late, which means it might be Uncle Wayne.
Or maybe a customer, but that would be pretty rare… …
“Hello!”
‘Eddie? …it’s Dustin…’
Wow. Even rarer. And Dustin sounds…weird…
“Yeah? …you alright?”
‘I’m fine – do you know where my sister is?’ he rushes despite his declaration of fine-ness. ‘I know she was talking to you. Did she say where she was going? She’s not at Lindsey’s. But her mom would say fuck-all. She’s a damn mess, man, but –’
“...dude, slow down Henderson…” Eddie has to talk loudly over him, and he glances over his shoulder to see if this catches your attention.
It has.
You sit up straighter to get a good look at him, Doritos bag forgotten in your fingers. He stares back at you and nods to tell you ‘yup, you heard that right.’
You frown, and Eddie can swear he hears the wheels turning in your head before your face tilts in worry and you scramble up off the carpet.
He covers the receiver when you scurry to his side.
“He’s trying to figure out where you are,” he whispers.
You frown again, head tilted like this fact is exasperating. Thing is…Eddie doesn’t think Dustin’s sounds like he’s just being a nosey shit of a brother. He thinks you’ll agree …
“Why?” you whisper back.
‘Eddie? ….Eddie?!’ You can both hear Dustin through the speaker.
He uncovers the mouthpiece.
“Yeah, man – sorry. What’s up?”
‘Okay. Good. Jesus,’ Dustin’s tone is still pleading and thin, and Eddie can feel you stiffen up next to him. He stares at you. ‘I was asking if she mentioned what she was doing tonight? I don’t want to call our mo–’
“Dustin?” you cut off his worrying like you can’t help yourself.
You probably can’t.
Your name trickles back across the line in a relieved sigh, and your eyes pinch in concern once more when Dustin sas it. You snatch the phone from Eddie’s hand and, despite his curiosity, he lets you do it.
“What’s wrong?” you demand and turn away to focus on your brother. “...what happened?”
Eddie whispers your name. Questioning. He wants to catch a look at your face to gauge what’s going on, but he also feels like it would be rude to do so.
“Dustin,” you urge him, and Eddie’s gut twists somehow hearing you like that.
He’s not sure why, really. If Dustin can call multiple people on the phone then he’s fine. At least, ya know, relatively speaking. Like physically. Right?
Fuck.
“...oh. Okay, yeah… …yes. Obviously… yeah, I’m on my way … … …go find Tews. Hang tight…”
Twos?
“See you in a few...” you mutter before lowering the phone.
Eddie stands by the phone cradle, head tilted and waiting on you when you return to hang-up.
“...hey,” you greet, darty-eyed and unsure.
“Everything good?” he asks softly.
“Yeah,” your answer sounds like a lie, and you seem to know it. “Or…I just need to head home,” you shrug.
He nods.
Jeff and Garreth are watching, too, when Eddie glances over. You stiffen a little when you turn back to face them, but you muster a small smile.
“Little twerp okay?” Garreth checks.
Eddie makes a face and waves a hand behind your back as a threat to the other boy – they don’t know how protective you get. Jeff takes the initiative to smack Gareth in the arm.
“What?!”
“He’s good. I’ll go…wrangle him,” you attempt to brush the whole thing off, too, and Eddie thinks it’s well done and big of you.
He refrains from saying so.
He hangs back while you shove your feet into your sneakers and retrieve your keys. You don’t offer much more of a farewell to any of them, distracted as you are.
When you step out, he follows close behind.
“Hey…hey,” he taps at your shoulder, then skitters around in front of you. “You sure things are okay?”
It seems more appropriate to ask away from the eyes of others, even if it’s only Jeff and Gare.
You nod.
“You need a ride?” he offers anyway. “You’re upset, yeah?”
That was fucking stupid to ask. Obviously you are.
He just wants to help.
“No – or, yeah, I am,” you backtrack and shake your head. “But I’m okay to drive. I promise…”
Your tone isn’t the most convincing sell, so Eddie looks you over. Clocks how hard you’re clenching at your key ring and the way your other hand trembles and fidgets. Your eyes are clear, though.
“...okay.”
“Thanks. For…checking”
Of course he’s going to check.
He just nods and steps out of the way. You seem to zero back in on getting home, but you pause again with a hand on the door. Something draws you up short.
“Hey, um. Look, I think,” you twist back toward him. “I think Dustin will be embarrassed about this by next week…”
You tilt your head at him in a pointed, wide-eyed look.
Jeeze.
“Ah, c’mon – gimme some credit,” he rolls his eyes, but in a more subdued way than his usual. “I see it’s off limits…”
Sure he gives everyone shit even when it’s a little dicey to do so, but there’s a line. He doesn’t find it often, but he knows it when he sees it. And for all he likes to act like he doesn’t care, he does care.
Like a lot, honestly.
“....yeah?” your eyes flicker over to the trailer door.
Ah.
“I’ll make sure they do, too,” he follows.
“...m’kay. It’s just,” you shift your weight like you’re unsure of your next words, and Eddie frowns. “You know all the …stuff at StarCourt last year?”
Okay. Not what he’d expected.
“Course,” he confirms, eyes widening.
“Right. Well, Dustin was there, and –”
“Fuck”
“Exactly…he doesn’t talk about it much,” you add. “Sometimes…he just has trouble sleeping...”
No fucking kidding. Eddie is sure there’s more to that statement, but he can read between the lines. And there’s no room for mockery this time. Honest. Cross his heart and all that shit.
That was all a huge mess – and Dustin had been there? Fuck.
“For sure…for sure,” Eddie holds up both hands. “He’s good.”
You look like you believe him.
And you looked relieved, which Eddie elects not to take personally. Figures he can chalk it up more to your concern for Dustin than actual doubts in him.
“Thanks…and,” you pause again. “I’ll take care of explaining…this,” you point from yourself to his trailer.
Right.
He hadn’t even thought of that.
“Ah, doesn’t matter,” he shrugs and hopes you won’t put that high on your list of priorities.
“...m’kay.Good night.”
“Night. Drive careful.”
Any mother-hen related jokes you might’ve lobbed at him on another night are forfeited, and you get in your car quietly.
Eddie hangs around until you’ve gone off down the drive. He feels he hasn’t done enough, though he can’t quite bring to mind what he ought to have said or done.
You just looked so distraught. Sad. He’d wanted to fix it.
Wants to.
He can’t. He gets that. Dustin had been through something serious, something real. It couldn’t be teased away or dismissed; of course you needed to go be with him.
But. Well. Maybe he can do something…
Jeff and Garreth won’t mind.
He’s, like, 90% sure.
.
You and Dustin don’t really have a relationship full of big, mushy moments. Smiling, teasing, and small gestures are more common. Quiet conversations, sarcasm, or casual nights spent watching movies are how you enjoy each other.
Still.
You’re flexible.
When you get home, you bound through the door and physically haul Dustin into a hug.
And he allows it.
Cool relief floods through you once you lay eyes on him. Nevermind that you’d known, logistically, that he was safe – a nightmare didn’t put him in physical peril. He was upset, but you’d known he’d be in one piece.
That didn’t matter.
You’d come too close to losing him. You haven’t forgotten that. In fact, you panic about it, too, sometimes.
“I’m fine,” Dustin tells you when he breaks the hug and looks up from where he’d pressed the top of his head into your shoulder.
“...are you?” you palm his cheeks between your hands.
Mostly to try to get a smile out of him. Also a little because you hope to see straight into his brain if you try hard enough.
He flicks your wrist away with a characteristic grumble but no smile. Halfway there.
“I’m in one piece”
“...I see that.”
“I just…didn’t want to be alone,” he scuffs a foot.
“...that’s okay.”
“And now I can’t sleep…”
He is staring somewhere around your elbow.
“...you wanna talk about it?”
He shrugs.
“Not much to talk about … …just makes me worry…”
The usual, then.
Guilt stabs your gut.
You should’ve stayed home when Dustin’s scheme for a sleepover fell through. Your mom is out of town, so you’d known Dustin was going to be alone…but he usually loves having the house to himself. He can putter around or call Susie or snoop.
So you hadn’t even thought twice.
But you could have canceled your plans with Eddie. If you’d been here maybe he would’ve freaked out a little less.
“Did you check on everyone?” you ask, setting aside your own feelings.
“Yeah”
Good. Those walkie-talkies are more handy than annoying anymore, you swear.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here”
Dustin shrugs again, then thinks about it for a while and declares he doesn’t need a babysitter!
You smile.
There’s Dustin.
“I know …I just wish I would’ve been here sooner…”
“Guess so,” he answers as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him – dirty little liar that he is.
‘Can you come back?’
His plea will haunt you for a little while, you think.
But you need to focus on now.
“...wanna do a movie night?”
“Yes,” he pops his head up and smiles back.
“Pick a movie. I’ll go change…”
Dustin is in the middle of rewinding Superman when you reemerge in leggings and a large old sweater. You’re not surprised by his choice; in fact, you could have predicted it.
Not that you mind…there is comfort in the well-known.
“So…why were you at Eddie’s?” Dustin addresses you from the floor.
Ugh!
You’d assumed this might be a Saturday or Sunday conversation. He sounds less accusatory than you’d expected, though. Sheepish and a little leery, maybe.
“...him and the guys got together for beer and games,” you stick with the truth.
“...have you been drinking?” he cocks his head.
He looks so innocent in his bafflement. The Star Wars pajama pants help complete that picture, you think.
“No”
A little. Barely.
“Okay…”
“They just invited me to join – it’s not a big deal…”
“Okay…”
Okay? O-kay? That’s not right. Can’t be.
Dustin shifts around where he’s kneeling at the VCR. Fidgets like he’s thinking pretty hard.
“You could have told me – I almost didn’t call there,” he chastises you. “I just thought you might’ve mentioned your plans to him…”
“That’s smart”
“I know”
You chuckle.
“I guess I thought you’d say I was encroaching on your friends,” you tease lightly.
This makes Dustin roll his eyes. Which is wild. It’s not as though you had been the one to make up those words.
“I’m past that. Mike made some good points…”
Oh. You see. Mike had made good points. Not you, though?
Geeze.
“Good to know,” you let your indignant thoughts go; it’s nice that he’s not flustered with this.
“And I know they do…band stuff,” he says this like he isn’t quite clear on what that entails. Like maybe that’s just something they say to summarize their shenanigans.
“...true.”
“...should I say something to them?” Dustin cocks his head again, then jumps and gets distracted by the tape finishing its rewind.
“Say something about what?” you frown.
“...you’re my sister,” Dustin fusses with the player before looking up again. “...and they’re guys.”
Oh Lord.
“No,” you laugh. “No, Dustin. It’s not like that, and…” you think of Eddie and your stomach does a flippy little thing, but…no. “Just don’t. It’s not that kind of thing.”
Dustin tilts his chin in consideration.
“Plus I can take care of myself,” you add.
“Ew. Whatever…” he drops it and climbs to his feet.
“Ew,” you mock him. “Should I make popcorn?”
“Always”
When you return to the living room with the snack you crowd Dustin on the couch where he’d plopped himself down in the middle. He’d done it on purpose, you think. Seeking comfort by proximity. The fact he doesn’t move away or “ew!” you again is confirmation enough in your book.
The movie is hardly thirty minutes in when headlights flash over the window and bump as they turn into the driveway.
“You called mom!?” Dustin whines loudly, betrayal clear in every syllable.
“No…”
You’d thought about it, but she deserves the weekend away with your Aunt. Neither of you like to worry her. Besides, you’ve got this.
Dustin’s eyes go even wider at this news, and he dives onto the floor to army crawl across the carpet and peek out of the bay window. Which might’ve been funny if it weren’t a little sad…
Nevermind that a guest so late at night has you a bit uneasy too. Who would b—
“...it’s Eddie!”
“What?” your heart starts racing for a whole new reason.
You approach the window with more dignity and lift a rung of the blinds.
“That’s his van…”
Sure enough.
After a few moments of you and Dustin quietly watching, the headlights die, the door swings open, and a tall, lean silhouette springs out with something in hand.
Jesus.
Jesus.
“Huh…” Dustin mutters, still on the floor.
Ah, shit – you drop your gaze to him.
“Do you want him here?”
“What?” Dustin looks up at you, puzzled.
“...I can ask him to leave,” you promise. “You know if you’re…” Dustin is frowning now, and you falter. “If…you’re embarrassed of your silly pants.”
He rolls his eyes.
“As if I would be”
He rolls to his feet and yanks the front door open before Eddie even has to knock.
“Hi,” he greets, right as rain – you’re glad to hear the pep in his voice even if you’re surprised.
“Hey, man,” you hear Eddie answer.
“...pizza?”
Eddie laughs in airy amusement. Of course Dustin would have found some distraction in that.
“Yeah – gonna have to warm it up, though…”
“I like cold pizza”
You watch a box appear in Dustin’s hands. He’s chuckling at his own luck, then glances up at you when he steps back. It doesn’t look like any gratitude is immediately forthcoming, so you cross to the door and pull it back further.
“Thanks,” you lead by example once you spot Eddie out on the stoop.
“Oh. Right. I mean, yeah – thanks,” Dustin agrees.
“S’nothing,” Eddie seems nervous about the appreciation and shoves his hands into his back pockets, watching you. “I …you had to leave quick. Thought I’d come make sure everything was alright over here…”
Wow. Gosh. He c–
“I lost the remote,” Dustin blurts, surprising you – you and Eddie both look at him. “She knew I’d pester her until we found it …would’ve just called over and over and over…”
You meet Eddie’s eye for the briefest moment. You tick him the tiniest shrug. Dustin seems to miss the exchange.
“Well, joke wouldda been on you, man,” Eddie rolls along with the fibbing and grins. “I would’ve unplugged the phone…”
“I’d find a way,” Dustin’s is so nonchalant and sure that you almost believe him.
Kind of.
Probably.
“...so did you find that remote?”
Eddie doesn’t seem bothered by the thin, improvised lie – not offended or even annoyed. There’s something indulgent about the way he asks further. Something fond pinched into the corners of his smiling eyes.
“Course. We’re watching Superman,” Dustin explains as he wiggles a slice of pizza free.
“Nice choice,” Eddie smiles.
“Wanna join?”
You’re taken aback by Dustin’s offer, and Eddie looks like he is, too. He checks the invite by you with a glance, and you shrug.
“Sure, I’ll watch…”
“You don’t have to get back to the guys?” you’re surprised.
“Nah. They took off once the Championship had to be postponed,” he chortles.
You see Dustin’s confusion, but he’s busy chewing.
“And they gave up the pizza?”
“Tell ‘em thanksh,” Dustin mumbles around a full mouth.
“Them?! What?! Nah, man – thank me,” Eddie declares wildly as he steps inside. “I had to trade them the rest of the PBR.”
Dustin pulls a face, and you’re pretty sure it’s because he doesn’t know about Milwaulkee’s finest. Probably for the best. You don’t need him asking more questions about alcohol consumption tonight.
“Nice place…” Eddie goes on as he enters.
“I guess,” Dustin shrugs. “C’mon in…”
While he makes his way back to the couch, Eddie sways closer to you.
“It’s cool if I stick around?” he murmurs.
You look up from the door’s lock and nod. He raises his eyebrows and dips his chin like a second question – you sure? You elbow him gently and nod again.
He believes you this time and moves further into the room. Lights are on in the kitchen, livingroom, and hallway – no dark corners. Not on a night like tonight. This isn’t normally how you watch a movie, and you wonder if Eddie notices how lit-up the place is.
“Want some or are you full?” Dustin checks, nodding at the pizza box he’s laid on the coffee table.
“Always have room for more,” Eddie laughs and drops onto the couch next to him.
You sort of…hover on the opposite side of the table for a moment. Watching.
Processing, you suppose.
Because …because Eddie is here. You had left his place upset, and he’d seemed worried, and now he is here. He’d sent his friends home to bring snacks and make sure everything was alright. He’s…
He’s here.
You won’t let your mind go much further than that at the moment.
He’s here – you don’t even really care if it’s more for you or for Dustin.
He gives a shit.
And…it just means something, is all.
“You make a better wall than a window,” Dustin lodges a complaint, pulling you from your thoughts.
“...I think it’s door, dude,” Eddie chimes in.
“It works either way,” Dustin waves the would-be amendment off.
Eddie then shrugs like that’s true.
Right.
Fine.
You eye the empty armchair but ultimately reclaim your place on the other end of the couch. Dustin sends a smile in your direction as you arrange a blanket on your lap, and you think maybe he’s pleased to be sandwiched safely there on the couch.
Which has you glancing past him at Eddie. He’s chewing and slouched back, apparently content with his choice to drive over. Not bothered in the least.
It’s…
You try to stop thinking about what it is and get back into the movie.
Dustin graciously offers you a slice of pizza, but you decline. You’d already had some and, anyway, your stomach doesn’t feel quite right.
For all you’d relaxed upon getting home to Dustin, guilt and concern still churn around in your gut. It’s easing, but it’s there – probably will be all night. Maybe tomorrow, too.
You do your best to ignore the feeling and lapse into easy commentary with the other two.
After ‘Superman’ comes ‘Young Frankenstein,’ another of Dustin’s favorites. He starts showing signs of fatigue even while he’s switching tapes, and then he’s zonked out before the movie hits its halfway point. His chin’s resting on his chest and he’s snuffling little almost-snores now and then. You pretend you don’t notice until Eddie snorts.
You exchange a smile over the top of his head.
“Want me to go?” Eddie whispers.
You shake your head. You really, really don’t. Which might be selfish? This isn’t how he had planned to spend his night: quiet and cornered on the edge of the couch next to Dustin.
Only…he’d come. He’d chosen to do that. Which means he wanted to. He wanted to know you’re both okay. He wanted to help. And, yeah, maybe you shouldn’t be feeling what you’re feeling about these facts, but…..for tonight you can.
You can straighten yourself out tomorrow. Tomorrow. When you’re feeling more normal and rested – you’ll get back to reality then.
Tonight you can feel warm about it.
In any case, Eddie doesn’t seem upset about your answer. He just gives you a little smile.
“Thanks,” you add in a similar whisper.
Eddie nods. Then reaches across the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.
Oh boy.
You look away and back to Gene Wilder’s on screen antics. Eddie leaves his arm where it is, snaked up behind Dustin and his fingers brushing your shoulder. You can just barely feel their pressure through your sweater, yet you’re hyper aware of it.
Here in your own house, with Dustin closeby, it feels … …even more thrilling than other small contacts. More forbidden. More…
Well. Just more.
You let Dustin keep snoozing until he starts to list toward Eddie. Weight drooping to the side.
“Dusty,” you pat his arm. “Dustin, hey – come on…”
You shake her elbow and he stirs enough to squint and frown at you. He can be grumpy all he wants, but you’re sure he’d never forgive you if you let him sleepily drool on his Dungeon Master.
“What?”
“You should head to bed,” you tell him quietly.
“Nuh-uh”
“Yeah, man – you’ve been snoring and shit,” Eddie heckled. “Can’t even hear Igor.”
Dustin scowled.
“I do no–!” he casts a questioning look at you before he finishes, and you shake your head – Eddie tutts in annoyance. “I do not! Jeeze!” Dustin gripes with confidence.
“Spoilsport,” Eddie chuffs at you.
“Whatever,” Dustin pouts and turns towards the TV, but after a moment he seems to realize he’d missed a chunk of the film.
“Guess I did fall asleep…”
“Head to bed. I’ll clean up all of our crap,” you gesture to the snacks and cups.
“M’kahy…night,” he rubs at one eye. “Later Eddie …s’cool having you over…”
“Next time you supply the pizza”
Dustin smiles and shoves off of the couch. He drags his feet along the carpet, moving in a slow shuffle toward his room. It could be pure sleepiness, but also … …
“Be right back,” you mumble.
“Yeah,” Eddie nods and watches you go.
“Dust,” you follow him into the hallway. “Hey, you okay?”
He’s sort of just lingering in his doorway, which is maybe an answer in itself.
“Yeah”
“...yeah?”
He shrugs this time.
“...want me to ask Eddie to leave. I ca–”
“No,” he hisses in alarm. “Don’t make it a whole thing.”
Fair enough.
“...wanna crash in my room? There’s an air mattress in the hall closet and –”
“I’m not a baby,” Dustin scowled afresh.
“I never said that…”
You don’t even think that. Honest. You just know it might be comforting.
“Then I’m fine”
“Okay…”
He sighs and looks up and down the hall.
“...you and Eddie will be out there for a while?”
Oh boy…
“Yeah. I think we’ll probably finish the movie…”
Rather than scrunch up his face in suspicion, Dustin’s eyes sort of seem to relax.
Oh.
Maybe he likes the idea of knowing someone’s around and awake. Better yet – more than one someone.
“I’ll be awake for a while even if he takes off,” you promise.
You have plenty on your mind to keep you up.
“Okay…”
You move closer for a hug, but Dustin ducks his shoulder and slinks backward. He throws a pointed look down the hall and then shuffles into his room. He doesn’t close his door all the way, so a few seconds later you hear his bed thump and squeak.
You stand there mutely for a bit longer, feeling a little cheated. Then you realize the hug you’d aimed for had been for you, not him.
Ugh.
Okay. Great.
Eddie is right where you left him out on the couch. He pulls his eyes from the TV when you reenter.
“He all good?” he has the good sense to keep his voice low.
“I think so,” you confirm just as softly.
You sink onto the cushion Dustin had abandoned. You don’t sit as cozy to Eddie’s side as you have taken to doing when you’re at his place, but there isn’t a gaping distance between you. No polar ends of the couch.
“You…don’t have to stay if you want to head home,” it’s only fair to tell him.
“Nah,” Eddie hardly hesitates to consider. “I’ll stay and finish movie night…”
You feel relieved by that.
There’s more to say, you think. Appreciation that he’d come all this way. Apologizes if it’s inconvenient. Excuses to make on Dustin’s behalf for his flimsy lie about the TV remote. Or…
“How about you?” Eddie brushes hair from your temple so nothing obscures his view of your face. “You alright?”
“Mmhmm..”
He tilts his head in disbelief.
“I mean… …I worry is all. I…” you pause, but he’d asked. “I feel kind of guilty I wasn’t here…”
It’s silly. You know that. You can’t stop nightmares. But if you’d been here Dustin wouldn’t have had to track you down. That had obviously frazzled him, and –
“Oh, come on…”
“I know”
Because you do. It’s just...he must have been scared. You could have helped with that part.
“Hey,” Eddie scratches at the shoulder of your sweater for your attention. Kind of like a cat, you think. “Would you have left him home alone if you’d known he’d…have a bad night?”
“No,” this answer is easy.
“Then that’s what matters”
Yeah.
Makes sense.
Very logical.
So you nod because it’s what you are supposed to do.
“...still feels shitty.”
Eddie pulls a rueful face. He can’t counter that one, and it’s okay. There’s nothing to fix at the moment. It’s helpful enough just that he’s here. Which…you should tell him.
You should say you appreciate him. Only…it feels easier – safer – to let it pass. Let it be assumed, and let all of this just be about Dustin anyway.
When you turn back to the movie, Eddie does, too. You can feel some warmth off his arm, and you let yourself imagine his heat seeps into the cushions and over to you.
It’s soothing even if it’s just an idea.
You find yourself disappointed when the movie draws to a close.
Eddie shifts, straightening from his cozy slouch, and your stomach clenches up. But it’s late…
Without invitation, Eddie helps you clean.. He grabs cups and bowls and takes them into the kitchen with you. You quietly squabble over who should keep the pizza leftovers – he stoutly refuses and whisper-insists that he will throw them out the window of his van and “won’t that be a waste, She-Henderson, huh?”
You find it comforting that he’s being very much himself even when you’re feeling… off.
“Well, thanks then”
He scoffs and waves you off like you’re gross, but he winks, too.
Then you’re stepping outside with him. He doesn’t need an escort, of course, but he often walks you out the door so it feels like the thing to do. At least until Eddie starts walking backwards about halfway to his car. He flashes a smile that seems to say you’re being silly and needn’t continue.
Obviously you ignore it.
“Sooooooooo, you good? Feeling alright?” he checks, head tilted. Searching.
“Yeah,” you promise. “Just…it’s been a long night.”
It’s the truest thing at this point. You’re safe. Dustin’s safe. Everyone is fine, but…it’s a lot.
“I hear you. You’ll be alright, though,” he grades you by his own rubric. “...c’mere.”
Before you register Eddie is reaching for you, he’s hooked his hand around your shoulder to pull you in for a hug.
A hug.
…that’s new.
It’s nice, though, and you curl your arms around his waist instinctively. He’s warm, and the pressure around your chest and shoulders is welcome. Steadying. A brief balm against the lingering roil of guilt and worry in your gut.
You sigh into the embrace.
“Thanks…”
“Mmhmm”
Eddie loosens his arms and lets you step back, but you don’t go far.
“No I mean it…thanks,” you repeat, deciding the thing you were going to leave assumed now needs to be said. “For coming over tonight. It was…it was really nice of you.”
It’s a lot of things, really.
“Yeah,” he nods. “Course.”
Of course? Like this is just another thing you guys do?
Maybe it is. Maybe it should be.
But it’s not nothing.
“It means a lot,” you insist even though you should probably shut up. “I was really frazzled, so…just. Thanks.”
“Yeah,” Eddie runs a hand through his long hair. “I could tell. I just…thought I could help. Or hoped I could…or something...”
He looks a little iffy about his own declaration even as he makes it.
“You did,” you reassure him.
“...yeah?”
“Yeah…yeah, you’re a really good friend…”
And.
Well. Huh. As true as the sentiment is, the word friend sort of stings on your tongue. Makes you want to backtrack and say something else. Makes you squirm a little.
“Aw, don’t get all soft on me, Henderson…” Eddie jabs your shoulder lightly, tumbling you from your thoughts.
You start to tell him to shut up, but he steps in and pulls you back into another hug. You relax into it quicker this time. Ready. Familiar. You squeeze his waist and tuck yourself against his shoulder.
“...glad I could be helpful,” he murmurs against your hair and (you think? Maybe?) kisses the top of your head. Or it could just be that your big head is in the way and he has nowhere to turn.
But…you think he had done it…
You nod against him and let yourself bask in the knowledge he’d come here for you. Sure it was a little for Dustin…but also for you. It’s nice knowing someone had your back, that when your job for the night had been to comfort Dustin someone could comfort you, too.
“...you smell nice,” you tell him so you have some kind of excuse for lingering in the hug longer.
The statement is true, though.
“Like smoke?” Eddie laughs.
Yeah, the faint smell of smoke is woven into his jacket, but you can smell the leather, too. And something warm and musky. It’s…something kind of cozy.
“You’re ruining it,” you pinch his back.
He pitches forward in surprise but laughs.
“...says the woman who’s abusing me.”
You chuckle and step back from his arms.
“...thanks, Eddie.”
“I’m filing a complaint…” he rubs dramatically at his back.
The normalcy makes you smile wider.
“Oh yeah? With who?”
“The Neighborhood Watch, probably….crime on the streets!” he whisper-yells. “Suburbia isn’t safe with you out after dark…”
“Christ,” you roll your eyes.
Eddie gasps.
“And blasphemy!”
Which is rich coming from him.
“Get out of here, Munson…”
He winks at you, standing in the halo of the garage light.
“Night…” he tugs his van door open.
“Good night,” you smile.
The smile lingers as he starts up and backs out of the driveway.
You feel a little alone once he pulls away, but you also definitely feel lighter than you had.
“Sometimes,” Gareth drawls. He’s sitting behind his kit, twirling a drumstick in his fingers, thoughtful. “Sometimes I think this town really is cursed.”
“Dude.” Jeff warns.
“Let me finish. I think this town is cursed, and Eddie’s a part of it—”
“Dude!”
“Let me finish! Town’s cursed, Eddie’s involved, but he’s not the source. He’s a victim.”
Jeff and Francis exchange a look.
”And the true source.” He rises, getting on a roll. “The true source is hiding in plain sight, something—”
He cuts his eyes at them.
“—or someone no one would expect. The true source…” He whirls his drumstick with a dramatic flourish then snaps his arm to its full extension and points outward, into the wild blue yonder that is the world beyond his parents’ garage. “…is Him.”
Him, being: Steve Harrington, parked at the end of the driveway. Steve Harrington, opening the passenger side door of his rich boy Beemer. Steve Harrington, who drove Eddie to band practice. Who’s shouldering Eddie’s gig bag. Who’s helping Eddie out of the car.
Jeff and Francis watch for a moment in silence, then turn back to Gareth in sync.
I just read a fic from 2013 and left a comment on the end. The author responded within 3 hours.
Please leave comments on fics. It doesn't matter if you don't know what to say I literally made a joke about a space worm. Please comment on fics it'll make the authors day even if its from 9 years ago.
you know that expression, "dance like no one is watching you?"
try writing like no one is going to read it
it's easier to let yourself go and just enjoy the process of creation when you aren't also playing 6 dimensional chess with your insecurities and anxieties
write because you have fun writing and if you never post it anywhere that's totally fine because you enjoyed your time with the process
Summary: You and Eddie hang out on Friday’s now. It’s becoming a whole thing.
Warnings: Mention of deceased parent, but in a “happy memory” way.
A/N: multi-chapter slow burn. Henderson!Reader
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So. There is a “next time.”
And then another time.
And then there’s suddenly just this whole second half of your Pick-Dustin-Up-From-Club routine. On Fridays you drop off Mike, you bring Dustin home, you go to Bradley’s grocery store, and then you drive over to Eddie’s trailer.
