♡Semi Sweet♡ @fantasticallyfruity4 - Tumblr Blog

Dec 15, 2025

It is December 15th, a mere 10 days before Christmas, when Nancy Wheeler gets yanked back to the small town of Hawkins due to some holiday flavored family bullshit or another.

And sure, Eddie doesn’t know why, exactly, his best friend went back to the homeland. He wasn’t really listening to the why part, too busy hyper ventilating about it.

See: Nancy Wheeler is a journalistic powerhouse. She’s big time going bigger, a girl on fire, a total shooting star--but she’s also been single for six months and feeling a little low, which makes her the perfect target for some small-minded small-town jerk to try pulling a Hallmark stunt on.

Nancy Wheeler, Eddie knows, was never intended to be some cow farmer's trad wife.

(“I promise not to visit a Christmas tree farm or an open air holiday market. Does that make you feel better?” She asked him on December 14th as she meticulously packed her carry on, Eddie pacing a line in the floor behind her.

“No it does not.” Hands flew in the air as he talked, entire body practically vibrating with worry.

“You also need to avoid hot chocolate stands, any kind of Santa village, and for the love of God Nance if a small child wanders up to you and asks you for something you kick them!”

He mimed a kick, arms swinging comedically with the force of his bad acting.

“You kick them hard!”

Nancy exhaled a long-suffering sigh, the kind that spoke louder than words

“I’m not kicking a child, Eddie.”

He whirled, pointing a stern finger at her face. “It’s not a real small child! It’s a--a demon child, and you kick it to save your life from some yahoo teaching you the meaning of Christmas!”

“I’ll make sure to let them all know my stone cold heart cannot be melted.”

“You’d better!”)

Alas, bestie duties must be fulfilled, and thus Eddie finds himself dropping Nancy off at the airport with a kiss on each cheek for luck even if he has a horrific feeling about the whole thing.

Spent the next five days trying not to spam-text Nancy, on edge for the call that some catastrophe had taken place and she was being forced to stay longer in Holiday Hellville.

Practiced what he’d say to her in the mirror, should she start spewing lines about “finding the meaning of Christmas” or some shit and even watched a few Hallmark movies in the name of ‘know thy enemy.’

(“Eds man, I get watching a movie or two for research, but six? Just admit you like them.”

”Shut up Gareth, there is nothing good about any of these dogshit movies! Now put on the Christmas Prince sequel, I want to see how Amber fucks up that wedding.”)

The call came a mere day before Nancy was due to return.

“What do you mean your parents got delayed!?” Eddie shrieked in a tone previously known only to birds and Michael Jackson.

“Calm down.” Nancy ordered, as though anyone in the history of mankind had ever calmed down because they were told to. “I’m just staying a few extra days to feed the dogs while they wait for the snowstorm at the ski lodge to pass.”

“So hire a local pet sitter!” The neighbors husky joined in Eddie’s howl, adding a nice little ‘awhoooo’ to underscore his outrage. “This is far too suspicious timing and--and fucking cliche to boot!”

“A windstorm at a famous mountaintop ski lodge in December isn’t suspicious. It just feels cliché because it happens nearly every year.” Nancy said in that flat, unimpressed voice she saved for when he was being especially ridiculous. “It’s an extra two days, Eddie. I’ll still be home before Christmas.”

Eddie eyed the cockeyed calendar Nancy had installed for him with suspicion, as if she and it both might be lying to him.

Alas, dates checked out.

“Fine,” He accepted in a hiss, “but you swear there hasn’t been any tall dark and handsome men lurking around? No one’s sniffed you out as a girl from the big city yet?”

A sigh comes out of his phone’s receiver, but it’s fond. “No one’s attempted to turn me into a housewife yet, I'm still safely a soulless corporate drone.”

“If that changes you call me.” He demanded, the plastic on his phone cracking angrily as he death gripped it.

“Will do.” Nancy said.

And she did.

Not about learning the magic of the holidays of course, but about another delay, or perhaps simply an extension of the first one but that part didn’t matter.

What did was that she actually got his voicemail instead of him --and the message she had left was so completely out of character it instantly raised the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck.

There was giggling and a lot of telling someone named Jonathan to ‘hush,’ followed by some bungled, glitched out message about a phone issue before she got out the “second delay” part.

(Eddie did not get to hear what exactly was wrong with her phone, given her voicemail kept cutting in and out, like the bad plot device in every horror movie known to man.)

Nancy followed this all up by not responding to any of his return phone calls, text messages, or psychic demands to reach back out-- for two entire fucking days.

Not that Eddie needed the full two; he had his plane ticket booked to Hawkins by the time the first 24 hours was finished, and was debating the merits of buying a gun by hour 35.

(Say what you will about it, but paranoia had served Eddie Munson well this far in life.

He’d had a bad feeling about this from the get go, and he wasn’t going to let something like doubt or sanity interfere with saving his bestie!)

Thus, one Edward Munson, metalhead rockstar-wannabe from The Big City, found himself on a plane flying out to Hawkins, Indiana on the Night of December 23rd, visions of a Christmas themed rescue playing in his head.

Which made this entire thing far more hilarious when he finally found Nancy.

(For her, not for him.)

xXx

“You understand how stupid this all is, yes?” She’s in the middle of telling him, while Eddie pouts in her very Republican parents' perfectly mid sized kitchen.

(The place comes equipped with a massive American flag and two, differently sized ‘Live, Laugh, Love.’ signs.

Eddie is in hell.)

“I understand you left me a fucked up message and then didn’t answer any form of communication for over 48 hours!” He countered, like the adult he was and totally not like a petulant child. “You didn’t even answer the one I sent to your work email!”

A red flag if there ever had been one.

(On vacation or not, if someone slapped that ‘high importance’ button on an email, Nancy Wheeler at least looked at it.)

Yet there she stood: one Nancy Wheeler, in full health and untouched by some flannel wearing stranger.

Allegedly.

She crossed her arms. “As I said in that “fucked up voicemail” She didn’t actually make quotation marks but Eddie mentally added them anyway, “there was a provider outage, and everything’s been spotty since.”

“And your parents are still, somehow, stuck in a storm?”

“Eddie, the lodge is six-thousand feet up a mountain. I keep telling you this is normal, it’s just that Mike and Holly were both too busy this time to house sit!”

They were interrupted by a knock at the door.

With a look that could melt steel beams, Eddie turned his eyes from it, back to Nancy.

“Don’t tell me that’s Jonathan.” He pleaded.

Got a startled glance in return for his troubles, a look that turned suspicious in an instant. “How do you know about Jonathan?” She demanded, before sweeping past him, towards the door.

“He was also in the voicemail!” He yelled after her.

Then Eddie launched himself off the stool he’d been perched on, following behind Nancy while mentally gearing up to scare off some fucking local town jackass.

Had dressed for the occasion even, battle-jacket newly lined with a set of large sized shoulder spikes and metal toed boots thunking loudly on the floor.

Imagined himself as one of those puffed up, hulking owls as she swung the door open and he stepped up to angrily glower behind her.

(He was a mean, awful man from the big city, yes he was! One who couldn’t be scared off because he was Nancy’s family and not her fucking fancy-bred boyfriend!)

Paints an ugly look on his face as the sad, wet dog of a man huddled on Nancy’s doorstep is revealed, taking both of them in and promptly straightening out of his slouch.

“Hi Jonathan,” Nancy greeted. “Sorry for standing you up. I meant to call, but Eddie flew into town unexpectedly and--”

“The phones have been spotty.” Jonathan finished, like some bullshit Disney prince. “No worries, I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

The fucker was wearing flannel.

Eddie glowered harder.

“I can come back if there’s a better time…?” It was an awkward offer, Jonathan eyeing Eddie like he was entirely unsure what to make of him but clearly not fully willing to abandon Nancy just yet.

Eddie decided to help him.

“There isn’t one.” He stood on his tip toes to gain the tiniest bit of height, confident Jonathan wouldn’t see him do it from behind Nancy. “Now begone, plaid satan! Leave the fair maiden alone!”

One slim elbow shot back, nailing him square in the gut.

“Eddie never learned his manners, I apologize.” Nancy continued normally, like he hadn’t just shouted in her ear and scared Jonathan’s eyes wide. “We can meet later today if you’d like? I can also do almost anytime tomorrow, after I drop Eddie back off at the airport. Because he’s interviewing for his show’s new co-host, back in Chicago. Right Eddie?”

The last part is aimed back at him, in a sickly sweet tone that says he will be doing what she says.

Pity for her he has years of plowing over authority figures, besties included.

“No need.” Eddie smiled, making sure his teeth showed just a little too much. “Gareth’s gonna cover for me, film the interview and everything.”

That had cost him an arm, two very expensive Warhammer figures and a written promise to provide Gareth’s beloved elf a flaming sword in their D&D campaign, but it was worth it.

Particularly if he successfully scared off the small town moron Nancy insisted she wouldn’t fall for.

“You got Gareth to cover the interview for your radio shows co-host?” Nancy challenged him back, because yeah he was kind of controlling about his show.

"I was worried!"

“Wait, Eddie like Eddie Munson? The rock radio host from WBEZ?” Jonathan blinked, somehow startling himself out of his own morose looking appearance and into something less deer-in-the-headlights.

Eddie blinked right back. “You follow the WBEZ from Indiana?”

“Well yeah, it’s one of the few good stations we get here.”

It’s probably one of the only stations they get here, Hawkins was truly in the middle of bumfuck nowhere--though Eddie was pretty sure he’d passed a mall at some point, which was an odd thing for such a tiny place to have.

(He’d added its existence to his growing list of reasons as to why they had to get out of here, immediately.)

Nancy, spotting the opportunity long before the boys did, promptly cut in; “Jonathan does band photography on the side.” A sly look was sent her best friends way, as she added;

“His record collection is bigger than yours is. You two might be interested in talking to each other.”

“No one's record collection is bigger than mine.” Eddie fired back, but the meanness was receding, in favor of (suspicious! Still suspicious!) curiosity.

“501 vinyls.” Jonathan announced, much the same way a proud father discusses their child’s shitty sports accomplishments. “I have The Smiths misprint of “Hand in Glove.”

Eddie gaped at him. “

You do not!”

“Gentleman, shall we take this conversation to a coffee shop?” Nancy said, smugly.

They did.

xXx

Jonathan wasn’t terrible.

Had horrific taste in some of his music and definitely needed more metal in his life, but he wasn’t as much of a small town hick as Eddie had been expecting.

So far, anyways.

He also remained on his best behavior, engaging in absolutely zero amounts of flirting. Which was pretty impressive, given Nancy was not withholding herself in the same manner.

‘Wow.’ Eddie found himself mouthing at her, as she successfully maneuvered Jonathan into discussing his perfect night out.

Was rapidly collecting things to tease her about -- particularly now that they were wrapping up their four hour coffee shop yap session, when Jonathan looked out the window and groaned.

Nancy frowned, looking out the window as the three of them gathered up their things, then brightened considerably.

“Oh, it’s Steve!” She said delightedly, which had the odd effect of putting Eddie and Jonathan both on edge.

“Whose Steve?”

“One of my parents' neighbors--he helped me out with the house earlier. Come on, come say hi!” Nancy said, then she was out the door like a shot, leaving both men to trail after.

“I bet he helped.” Jonathan muttered darkly, which made Eddie feel super not great about New Guy Steve.

(One crush on a local was enough. Two was dangerous waters.)

“Should I be worried?” He muttered back to Jonathan, the man slumping out of the coffee house with such obvious reluctance it made Eddie start to feel jittery.

Jonathan pursed his lips.

“Maybe?” He admitted, and given Nancy and Eddie had never clarified their relationship, the latter can only assume Jonathan means romantically. As in, romantically, he should be worried.

Fuck.

“So help me if this is some sort of backwoods beefcake after Nance, I will bark at him like a dog.” He threatened, which had the fun effect of making Jonathan choke. He’d enjoy that more, but he was too busy marching forward, gearing himself up for his second potential confrontation of the day.

Found Nancy nowhere in sight, and immediately sped around the corner only to be struck dumb by the sight of a literal angel beaming down at Nancy.

Gorgeous, thick hair. A slow, sugar-warm smile. Biceps.

‘My god,’ Eddie thought, to a backing vocal of an imagined, heavenly choir, ‘those fucking biceps.’

“Here they are!” Nancy said impatiently, reaching out to yank Eddie closer. “Steve, let me introduce you to my best friend, Eddie.”

“Hello.” Said rural Romeo, and shoot Eddie now, the man had dimples.

“Hgnngh.” Eddie said back.

“Harrington.” Jonathan greeted flatly as he came to stand on Nancy’s other side, saving Eddie from whatever the hell words had just failed to fall out of his mouth.

Expected a little territorial pissing match between the two men and was utterly surprised when Steve’s warm smile stayed warm when it landed on Jonathan. “Oh, hey Byers.”

“Eddie’s my Robin.” Nancy informed him, which was utter nonsense but seemed to be the kind Steve and Jonathan both understood instantly. “He’s also the DM of a couple different D&D games.”

“Really!?” Steve said, excitedly turning back to the metalhead and no way, absolutely no way was Hometown Hottie with his cashmere sweater into D&D--

“Really.” Nancy said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to help if you still needed those gift ideas?”

“That’d be great! Do you have free time tomorrow? We can get lunch, I’ll buy.”

“I uh,” Steve was aiming his giga-watt smile Eddie’s way, stealing his breath and attention entirely. “I--”

“Tomorrow would work!” Nancy answered for him, as his brain melted out of his ears. “How does Benny’s place sound? Around noon?”

“Perfect!” Steve was beaming again, before thumbing over to the vintage BMW parked across the street. “Thank you guys--I gotta go back to work, but I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Bye.” Eddie waived back, and tried not to be proud of himself for getting out an actual word.

The three of them watched as Steve left, Nancy waiting until the maroon Beemer was fading into the distance before turning on Eddie.

Took in his slack jawed, awestruck expression and teased; “Do I need to ban you from an open air holiday market?”

“You can write hypocrite on my gravestone if it makes you feel better.” He informed her back, wiping his mouth on the off chance drool had fallen out of it. “God the dimples on that man.”

His hand leapt to cover his heart, as he swooned backwards.

A smug grin was overtaking Nancy’s mouth. “Careful, he looks exactly the type of guy to try and make your heart grow three sizes.”

“He looks like the kind of guy I’d let try.” He said back, and herein lies his mistake, because that wasn’t his normal teasing tone of voice.

No that was lovestruck Eddie, and Nancy was all too familiar with how he acted when he was in love.

“What was it you said to me the other day? You wouldn't survive living in a small town?” And she said his own advice back to him so sensibly, damn her.

“Oh, and you will?” He challenged, back, pointing with his chin towards Jonathan.

Who to his credit, stood there and said absolutely nothing during this little exchange.

Nancy gave him a Nancy look. The meaning of a Nancy look could change, but typically never deviated from three key meanings. The first was to indicate that he was being stupid. The second was to indicate he was being advanced stupid.

The third and final look was the one she gave him now.

This was said he was stupid, but also, she had information he didn't.

“Jonathan's job transferred him to Chicago.” Came the shot, fired from her lips to his heart, torpedoing any standing he had here. “Hes moving there after Christmas.”

She paused to reload, apparently, because she waited a moment to hit him with: “That's why I've been meeting him at the coffee shop--he was looking for advice on what neighborhood to move into.”

‘This is what you get for trying to outsmart me.’ is what she didn't say, but Eddie heard it loud and clear.

“You're seriously moving to Chicago?” He ask-demanded of Jonathan, because the guy was blatantly listening in to all this. “And not taking Nancy out for dates?”

Gamely, Jonathan replied; “If I was taking her out on dates it'd be at a place far nicer than a coffee shop.”

“Oh I dunno. I kind of liked it.” Nancy gave him a teasing little grin. “We can say our first date was at a place much nicer if you really want. though.”

Jonathan blinks at her, visibly processing the maneuver Nancy has made. Eddie gets to watch the moment it clicks, scarlet blooming across the bridge of Jonathan's nose.

“We can?” It isn’t the question he’s actually asking. What he wants to know is if she really means it, if she’s okay with what he’s imagining. And incredibly, she answers with a broader smile and clear, easy confirmation.

She steps closer to him, loops an arm around an elbow.

“How do you feel about Italian?” She asks.

Eddie debates the pros and cons of loudly and obnoxiously gagging.

“Love it.” Jonathan tells her, voice a little breathy, clearly starstruck.

“Well I'm glad I made that happen for you.” Eddie interrupted, before things got too out of control. “Now can we get back to me pining for hot hair?”

He jammed a thumb towards the direction Steve had driven in.

“That depends. I'm going to hold you to your own standards here, which we know is a hard thing for you.”

A snort. “Please, the only thing hard here is me, because it is very clear Steve isn't gay. A pity, I assure you, but that man reads so straight I thought he was some sort of brought to life caricature.”

“Steve's not straight.”

It takes a minute for the words to register, on grounds Jonathan still sounded a little dreamy.

When it does, Eddie refocuses instantly on him.

“Would that be the reason why you don’t like him?”

Impressive vinyl collection or not, Nance isn’t dating a homophobe. If that’s what Jonathan is, better for all of them to find out now.

Jonathan doesn’t bristle, just frowns in confusion. “What? No. I might not like the guy, but he’s my little brother’s favorite camp counselor.”

“I see.” Eddie doesn’t see, but he will as soon as he’s done ferreting out information. “And you think he's gay because…?”

His money’s on the hair. There was something about small towns that made the men zero in on any of their own who dared where something other than a bowl cut…

“He's the head of the school's LGTBQ club.” Said the current small town shaggy bowl cut he was talking to. “And also he told me.”

In a follow up grumble, Jonathan added; “Not that he had too, the whole fucking town knows.”

Which doesn't sound like he intends it to be mean, but Eddie's heard those words spoken too many times himself growing up to associate anything positive to it.

Glower creeping back on his face, he prods; “Yeah?”

Somehow Jonathan either does not sense the growing danger, or is simply immune to it, because he rolls his eyes in response.

“He got trashed at the tree lighting ceremony and stole the mic to propose to Tommy Hagan.” Then, after seemingly hearing his own words and realizing the out of towners are not aware of town gossip, contextualizes; “Hagan’s a serial cheater.”

“That would do it.” Nancy bobbed her head. “I take it the cheating ruined things?”

“They made it about a month into the engagement, yeah. And for the record,” Here he turned begrudgingly to Eddie to say, “Harrington’s a good guy, I just find him obnoxious."

There was definitely something else there Jonathan wasn’t saying, but Eddie was too busy coming to terms with the fact that Cornbread Casanova was on the table as a legitimate dating option to care.

“Was that recently?” Nancy asked the important question, because she was as previously mentioned, a journalistic powerhouse.

“Few years ago.”

“How’s he feel about metal?” The words fell sort of unintentionally from Eddie’s mouth but fuck it. Jonathan clearly knew Steve, might as well try and find something to halt his heart before it got too attached.

“His first boyfriend listened to metal, so fine apparently. Guy was a giant dickbag though--ran back to California second he turned 18.”

Had dimples. Okay with metal. Knew people who played D&D.

Yup.

Eddie was screwed.

xXx

“You know,” Nancy told him later, the whole of them bracketing her parents disgusting floral couch, a few long hours after grilling Jonathan for everything he was worth, “just because Steve’s single and queer doesn’t mean he’s willing to move.”

‘Or date you.’

“I know.” Eddie told her, to both little reminders.

“You gave me all those speeches about not ruining my life for men.” Nancy continued. “Do I need to give them back to you?”

“No.” He grumbled. Just to be a pain in the ass, he waited until she visibly relaxed, before adding; ‘But--”

She groaned.

“But,” He doubled down, “I have this really weird feeling that it’s actually okay.”

“Moving to a small town?” Nancy asked, immediately alarmed.

He shoved her. “No! Steve! Things with Steve! Like--like it’s okay to flirt with him and shit, because ot’s gonna work out.”

It was hard to explain to even himself, let alone Nancy given he had never in his life felt such a thing, but he also couldn’t get himself to move past it.

Steve wasn’t Jonathan, there was no mention of him moving out of Hawkins, and yet something inside Eddie’s brain decided Steve was safe to pursue.

To see where they ended up, when normally he’d never even try.

“What makes you say that?” Nancy asked him, because she had a lifetime of witnessing him run from such things.

“Dunno.” He told her honestly. “Guess I’m gonna find out.”

And he did.

xXx

Three months, four days, and one hour from that exact moment, Eddie Munson would wake up next to one Steven Harrington, the man snoring softly into his curls.

“Hey,” He said with a gentle poke, smile on his face, “sleepyhead, wake up.”

“Mmmmph.”

“If you wanna meet up with Nance and J-Dog for breakfast before Robin’s big break, then we gotta get up.”

“I’m telling Jonathan you called him that.” Steve mumbled back.

“That’s fine.” Eddie smiled at him, too happy that Steve was here.

Permanently.

“Come on, Rockin Robin is about to debut on air as my shiny new co-host and you promised her you weren’t gonna miss it!”

“Fi-iiiine.” Steve complained as he finally began the motions of getting up. “I still can’t believe she was the interview you blew off back in December.”

“Yeah big boy,” Eddie told him fondly, “I can’t believe it either.”

Or that Steve had followed her when he and Gareth made the decision to hire--straight back to Eddie.

Like something out of some sort of Hallmark movie.

Gross, but not--because for once it’s Eddie’s kind of Hallmark movie.

(“Did you finally tell Steve you actually like all those dumb films?”

“No because I don’t, Gareth, God!”

“Sure, you fucking hypocrite. I’ll tell him myself.”

“No you are not!”

Gareth did.)