for @corrodedcoffinfest day 17 prompt 'answering machine'
this is my 100th contribution to CCF and all related popup events! i looooove exploring these characters so much and i can't wait to keep doing it whenever i can!
rated m | 904 words | cw: implied sexual content | tags: miscommunications, second chances, background steddie mentioned, idiots in love, jeff/frankie (unnamed freak who has been given a name by me because i care more than the duffers)
☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️
”It’s me again. Sorry. I know it’s stupid. It’s just. Well, I guess I don’t have anything new to say. I miss you. I’m sorry.”
Beep.
“Saw this wicked bass today and thought about that one you almost bought off that guy on the side of the road. You were gonna trade him, right? He laughed in your face and said he’d never trade a classic for some generic shit. I don’t even think he knew how to play. Anyway, I hope you’re doing okay.”
Beep.
“You didn’t tell me you were moving. Saw the sign in your yard when I drove by on my way to Eddie’s earlier. He hasn’t said anything, either, so. I guess he’s more on your side than mine in this whole thing. I dunno. I didn’t ask him about it. I don’t wanna put him in a position where he has to feel like he has to pick a side. I just wish you…I wish we could talk about it.”
Beep.
“I guess this probably isn’t even your number anymore. I’m surprised there’s even a machine set up for it still. So this will be the last time I leave one. I’m sure you don’t even listen to these. And you definitely won’t now. You left. I guess this is karma, right?”
Beep.
–
Jeff is lucky that he has parents who worked hard and made sure he could go to college. He’s lucky that his dad knows plenty of people in finance who needed to hire a fresh college graduate to make their company look good to prospective clients. He knows many people he went to high school with are never going to be making his kind of salary at all, let alone at 25.
He knows this. He appreciates that he’s lucky, and even sometimes happy.
But he still sees the life Eddie lives, the life Gareth lives, and he wonders how different things could be for him if he’d just not fucked everything up.
Frankie is fine according to Eddie, and better than ever according to Gareth. Steve just gives him a sad smile when he asks.
They weren’t more than best friends. Not officially. That’s the problem.
He convinces himself that’s why it hurts so bad. That he didn’t just lose someone he knew he was falling in love with. That he lost his best friend because he couldn’t admit to himself or anyone else how serious he was about them.
There was always an excuse. The band. School. The world almost ending. Twice.
And when there weren’t any left, he started making them. Frankie let him.
He pushed, Frankie let him.
He pulled away, Frankie let him.
And now Jeff is living alone in Chicago a few blocks from where Steve and Eddie settled. Gareth is in Boston on some scholarship program that lets him study at different Ivy Leagues every year. He doesn’t know the details. Frankie is close enough that Steve and Eddie visit him every couple of months, but not close enough that it’s a day trip. That’s all he knows.
–
”God, I hope this is your number and Steve didn’t pull a fuckin’ prank on me. He would. Anyway. If this is Jeff. I just wanted you to know I did listen to all those messages you left on my answering machine before. Even the one you thought I wouldn’t hear. I’m in Chicago next weekend if you…I dunno you probably don’t want to. But if you wanted to meet up, Steve has my number. I told him to give it to you if you ask.”
Beep.
Jeff blinks back tears. Frankie’s voice is the same. He doesn’t know why he thought it would be different.
He calls Steve and asks for his number. He’s not coming up with any excuses now. Not when Frankie made the move.
–
They’re different people in so many ways, but there’s one thing that hasn’t changed: they’re best friends.
It’s not easy at first. Conversation is awkward as they do the typical catching up, constantly on the edge of apologies that they need but can’t get out in one night. Something changes when they settle on the couch at Jeff’s apartment.
It feels more like it used to. It feels like they can talk about anything.
It feels like Jeff wants to kiss him, remind himself of his taste so he can live off of it for another few years.
It feels like there’s hope for more. He’s ready now.
–
“We should probably talk,” Jeff says as he slides back into bed. Frankie’s sipping the coffee he brought him, sheets pooled around his waist. He’s always been pretty hairy, but apparently, Steve convinced him to wax one time last year and he’s got quite a forest now. “If you…well, if you want more of this.”
“I didn’t call for one night,” Frankie smiles over at him. “But we do need to talk. And figure out what we can handle right now. I have a pretty good job, you do too. You’ve got a house, I’ve got a house. I have a cat.”
“Always thought you’d get a dog.”
Frankie laughs. “Too much work. Do you want a dog?”
“Nah. But I’ve always wanted a cat.”
Frankie kisses his cheek. Jeff leans his head on his shoulder.
Warnings/Themes: Friendship, Humor, Light Angst, Mistakes, Mike and Dustin appearance
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
A merch table was the key to any band’s success.
Contrary to popular belief, it was not just about the music.
“Do you think Mozart had merch?” Gareth wondered as they decided which design would look best on a t-shirt.
“He had to have, right?” Jeff reasoned.
It was up to the two of them to do this. Eddie had been the mastermind behind the Hellfire Club shirts but took a backseat so he “wouldn’t be the one to do every little thing for the band.” And it wasn’t that bad. Jeff had some skill at art, and Gareth…well, Gareth’s parents were paying for the order up front.
“They’re only happy to do it, they want to see us succeed.”
“Probably because you aren’t good at anything else but the drums,” Jeff laughed.
Jeff was pretty proud of the design. A robotic grim reaper opening a coffin. It would be printed on a bleach-stained black shirt. Super metal. All of the boys agreed.
It would take several weeks for everything to arrive, just in time for Corroded Coffin to play a pretty decent gig, opening for a band called the Crypt Keepers out in Muncie.
“They have fans which means one day we’ll have fans,” Eddie assured them all. “But we gotta make them remember us.”
They practiced round the clock leading up to the night of the gig. Their friends from school all stopped by the Emerson’s garage to be a makeshift audience and offer their critiques. This could be better. No, that could be better.
Dustin and Mike had even offered to man the merch table while they were performing.
“No, not Wheeler,” Dave said, good-naturedly bullying the younger boys. “He’ll nerd up the place with his jeans from Old Navy.”
“Where else am I supposed to get jeans?!” Mike whined.
Finally, the day had come and the box of shirts arrived. They were all in such a rush to pack up the van and get on the road that they hadn’t even looked inside.
When they arrived at the little club, there was a whirlwind of activity, from setting up their equipment, to a little bit of a soundcheck. While Eddie took a minute to thank the lead singer for giving them a shot--and maybe an extra few seconds to flirt with the cute bartender--the rest of them got their little table set up. A cashbox with a lock and key, flyers that boasted their weekly gigs over at the Hideout, and finally, the shirts.
"We'll all get shirts to wear for the performance," Jeff told Dustin and Mike--who had cut holes in his pristine jeans to fit in more-- then nodded at his bandmates. "Otherwise how will anyone know how cool they are?"
"Man, I really liked what I chose to wear..." Dave pouted as he pulled the tape from the cardboard, then paused as he looked inside the box. "...and I'm glad I did, because there's no way I'm wearing that. What the hell guys?"
Instead of mottled black and orange bleach-staining, there was neon. Pinks, blues, greens. All bright, happy colors that seemed incredibly out of place with the grim reaper design on the front of it.
"No, no, no," Jeff muttered, panic setting in. "What the hell is this? I thought I told your dad we wanted the premium color." He shot Gareth an accusatory glance.
"Hey! Don't blame my dad for this!"
"Well what are we gonna do with neon shirts?!" He grabbed one out of the box and threw it at the drummer's head. His eyes widened when he noticed that the spot he'd grabbed changed from neon pink...to purple.
The shirts were not just brights. They were hypercolor, the dye changing color whenever it warmed up from touch.
"Oh my god," Jeff breathed heavily. "Eddie's gonna kill us for this."
"Eddie's gonna kill you for what?"
Everyone jumped at his voice and scrambled to hide the evidence.
"Nothing! Everything's fine!" Dustin smiled nervously, elbowing Mike to do the same.
"Well, Henderson's voice always goes up four octaves when he's lying," Eddie pointed out. "So, tell me what happened. Shit always stinks worse when it gets on your hand; better wash it off."
All of the boys frowned and then gestured to the box of shirts. Eddie sighed and flicked the cardboard flaps open.
His lips mashed together, and his head tilted, and then he grabbed a shirt from the top. "Huh." He tilted his head the other way. "You know, these aren't what you guys said they were gonna look like..."
"I'm sorry, we should've checked when the order came in!" Jeff stared.
Gareth was quick to follow, "There were just so many colors to choose from! And we wanted them to look cool, Eddie, I swear!"
"Look, the green one looks like slime!" Dave grabbed one and shoved it at Mike. "Matches Wheeler's queazy complexion."
"Hey!"
"Sorry, man!"
Eddie took a breath and everyone went silent.
A tense few moments passed, moments that felt like a lifetime.
And then he nodded, and said "I see your vision, Jeffrey. Well played."
"You...do?" Jeff asked.
"Obviously," Eddie scoffed, then looked at the younger boys. "This is why we brought you along with us. You have something to learn about subverting pop culture. Neon is so prevalent right now, but a huge fucking robot version of death itself makes it contradictory! It makes a statement! Death to the establishment! Fuck fashion trends!"
Everyone stared at him with their mouths wide open as he pulled his Black Sabbath t-shirt off and the new, ultra-bright orange and green Corroded Coffin shirt on.
"These are gonna sell like hotcakes." Eddie clapped a hand onto Jeff and Gareth's shoulders. "Great job, boys. Now let's go melt some faces off!"
He turned and strode confidently up to the stage.
Jeff and Gareth shared a look of utter disbelief, then glared at the others.
for @corrodedcoffinfest day 16 prompt 'hypercolor'
rated t | 476 words | no cw | tags: band manager steve (yes, again), established steddie, corroded coffin on tour
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There’s no way they can afford them, but they are cool, even Steve has to admit it.
“Maybe we do a small batch?” Jeff asks. He’s thinking the same thing Steve is, but he’s also just as much of a guy who likes cool shit as the rest of the band.
“Minimum order with our guys is 50. That’ll be $1000 plus shipping and the personalizing fee.” Steve mentally tries to crunch the numbers. He’s not great at math without a calculator, but at least it’s easy zeroes. “We’d have to sell them at $40 at least to make money on them.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.”
Eddie really wants them. Hypercolor shirts are huge right now. They’d probably even be able to sell them for that much and market them as extremely limited inventory. But it’s not really a priority. They have to pay their crew, and Gareth needs a drumset before the next leg of the tour starts. There’s an outstanding medical bill from when Frankie broke his thumb and had to get a splint so he could keep playing. They need to eat.
They aren’t hurting for cash, but Steve tries to keep them in line a bit. Jeff helps a lot, but he’s a sucker for cool shit like this.
Steve will have to be the bad guy. Again.
“What if we just got some for ourselves?” Gareth asks with his big eyes and pouty lips. Steve doesn’t fall for it anymore, but it’s still hard to tell him no. “They’re so cool.”
“Yeah,” Eddie plays along, like he always does. “We can get plain ones and put our logo on ourselves and wear them.”
“If you want to,” Steve shrugs. That won’t kill their budget. “You guys have to follow the washing instructions.”
“They just go in the washing machine, right?” Eddie asks. As if he even does their laundry. He’s strictly the dish-doer. Steve can’t trust him with their clothes.
“Yes, but you can’t put them in the dryer. They have to air dry,” Steve explains. “And knowing all of you…”
“Okay, okay,” Jeff laughs. “How about we table this? We have bigger fish to fry.”
“Agreed.” Steve frowns over at Eddie, who still has his eyes on the advertisement for the shirts. “Eddie. C’mon, we’ll come back to those later.”
“I’m gonna buy them.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but it’s only because he knows that arguing is useless. If Eddie wants these stupid shirts, then he’s gonna get them one way or another.
“Sure.”
–
Admittedly, they turn out even better than they originally thought they would. They were worth every penny.
Steve watches Eddie’s hand print slowly fade from the left side of his shirt.
He puts his hand over it to make it last longer.
It’s nice having a piece of him staying behind when he goes off to soundcheck.
Summary: Eddie has the flu and the boys promise Wayne that they'll check up on him.
Word Count: 997
Rating: M
Warnings/Themes: Friendship, Humor, Gross Humor, Light Psychological Torture, Post-Smut, Allusions to Smut (kind of), Light mention of Bodily Fluids
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3
Guys, this flowed out of me like water. This fic is the aftermath of what will eventually be the spiritual successor to my fic Chuck. One day I'll write that fic, but for now, you get this one. And I'd honestly like to think that this happens in the same universe. It's supposed to be funny, it's a little gross, boys will be boys, why wouldn't Eddie do this while sick and high on maybe one dose too many of Robutussin. So, sorry to the boys...and sorry to the lasagna.
Thanks @talanashta and @alwaysurvalentine for enabling me and giving me some ideas.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
It felt weird to let themselves into the trailer.
Usually, Eddie would be at the door, jumping in excitement or hollering for them to get inside already. Once in a blue moon, Wayne would let them in. Pleasantries exchanged and the like. How’re you boys? Good, and you sir?
But today there was only silence.
Wayne was out on his annual fishing trip and Eddie was home sick.
"I don't feel right," Gareth whined as they stuck the key in the lock. "What if someone calls the cops on us?"
Jeff, ever the voice of reason, pushed him out of the way, almost knocking him off the cinderblock steps. "They know we're not breaking in, dummy. We have a key. Besides, what does Eddie have to steal anyway?"
"His guitar," Dave muttered a little too quickly, then he froze. "Uhhh...not that I ever dreamed of taking it."
Jeff rolled his eyes and pulled the door open. Inside the trailer, there was a haze. Not a cigarette smoke haze, but just a general musty, flu-induced haze that came from nasal spray, a humidifier, and some wet, hacking coughs.
"We should've worn hazmat suits," Gareth snorted as they stepped inside. Eddie was nowhere to be seen, presumably back in his room fast asleep, so they continued onwards. Their sneakers kicked at used, snotty kleenexes, some rags, and when they got far enough...some kind of thick, red substance.
"Is that blood?!" Dave shouted immediately.
Was it?
In the dim light of the trailer, it certainly looked like blood. A few steps away, there was more. Dark and thick and clumpy.
"Did he cough up a lung or something?" Jeff questioned, and then reached over to turn on the lamp beside the sofa.
No, not blood. Not a lung. A clump of...
"Pasta sauce," he mumbled.
Now, with better lighting, they could see pasta sauce everywhere. Spattered on the walls, on the arm of the couch, here and there on the floor. Not only sauce, but clumps of noodles and cheese too. Distinctly shaped noodles.
Gareth, who had braved the journey and made it into the kitchen, found a similar scene. But on the counter beside the stove there was a box.
Stouffers Deep Dish Lasagna with Meat Sauce.
One of Eddie's favorites. He quoted Garfield all the time, saying it was nature's most perfect food. If Wayne was worried about leaving a sick Eddie behind, he would've surely bought one as a bit of comfort.
But...aside from the box and the mess Eddie had left behind, there was no evidence of the actual lasagna. No pan in the sink or in the trash, no leftovers in the fridge.
"Did he eat the pan too?" Dave joked.
On they went back toward Eddie's room. Gareth, as a joke or maybe in sincere defense for himself and his friends, had grabbed a broom and was holding it over his shoulder like a baseball bat. Ready to swing if a sentient, anthropomorphic lasagna jumped out at them from nowhere.
Finally, they reached Eddie's door. Not fully closed, cracked just enough for them to see the equally dim room within.
"Eddie?" Jeff knocked.
There was a snort, a snore, and then a whine.
"Eddie, you ok? We're here to check on you."
"Ugghhh Jeffy," Eddie groaned from within, his voice nasally and rough. "M'sick. Go away."
"No can do," Jeff replied. "We promised Wayne. Can we come in?"
There was no verbal response, just another groan, then a cough.
The door swung open, they flicked open the light switch, and then stepped inside.
Only to find...carnage.
Eddie was sprawled across his mattress, practically face down, in his boxers. His hair was in his eyes, shielding him just enough from the light. There was pasta sauce smeared over his mouth and coating his fingers. Shit it was somehow even across his back.
The sheets were off the bed, the room was a mess. Clothes and noodles everywhere.
And in the corner, not one bottle of cold medicine, but two. Tipped over and spilling a putridly stick purple liquid onto the floor.
"I think we found the reason for the mess," Dave laughed and crossed the room. "Eddie how much medicine did you take?"
"He's insufferable when he's sick," Gareth grumbled and put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the mess. "How're we gonna explain this to Wayne?"
"We're not," Jeff said resolutely. "We're gonna clean it up. Eddie would do the same thing for us if the tables were turned. Hey bud, hey it's just me, let me help you. We're gonna clean you up."
He did his best not to let Eddie reach out and smear sauce on his clean clothes, but managed at least to start to get Eddie to turn on his side.
"There you go," he mumbled, wrinkling his nose at the sauce smeared across all of Eddie's front as well. Chest thoroughly coated. And his boxers.
"Uh, g-guys," Dave stammered.
"What?"
"I think I found the lasagna."
There was a heavy moment of anticipation as he leaned down and grabbed the pan off the floor. If you could call it a pan anymore, really. The thin aluminum foil had been bent, the family sized lasagna mangled by groping fingers.
But, to their shared horror...there was a very obvious channel bored into the side of it.
And it wasn't just sticky with Stouffer's meat sauce.
Jeff looked down at Eddie, at the sheer mess that stained his body, and his boxers--especially his boxers--and made a gagging noise as he backed away quickly.
The three boys looked at each other in shock, and then Gareth spoke.
"So we tell Wayne that we stopped by and that everything was fine and Eddie was just sleeping, right?" He looked at Dave and Jeff, pointedly not at Eddie, with wide eyes. "Right?"
rated t | 665 words | cw: coming out gone wrong (background/offscreen) | tags: gay jeff, wayne munson is the best, found family
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When Jeff comes out to his parents, he’s sure they’ll kick him out.
They don’t.
But it’s worse.
They don’t say anything. They ignore him. They don’t offer him dinner in the evenings, they don’t let him use the car, they tell him they aren’t paying for college. He’s got a roof over his head, but they’re pushing him away.
He barely sleeps, he barely eats, and most of the time, he has to walk to work since Eddie’s busy helping Steve get kids everywhere they need to go and working his own job. Gareth just got his license, but doesn’t have his own car. Frankie has a car, but his parents are strict about having friends in it, so he’s on his own.
It sucks being on his own.
–
“Jeff? That you kid?”
Jeff turns to see Wayne coming to a stop next to him. It’s late, but he was so careful to be far enough away from the road that no one could even see him.
“Oh. Hi, Mr. Munson,” Jeff gives him a small smile, the most he can possibly manage after a long day of dealing with assholes. “Heading home from work?”
“Yep. You too?”
“Yes sir.” Jeff realizes his knees hurt the longer he stands still. He’s barely 19. His knees shouldn’t hurt. “Long day today.”
“You need a ride, son?”
“No, I’m only another half a mile away,” Jeff tries to shrug it off, but Wayne is giving him a look that he knows Eddie probably gets all the time. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’d really like to give you a ride,” Wayne leans over to unlock the door. “It’s no trouble. You’re on the way.”
“Oh. Are you sure?” Jeff doesn’t really like arguing with adults, especially one who’s always been nice enough the few times they’ve interacted.
“Hop in.”
–
Jeff stays at Eddie’s more than Eddie does. They have the space since the whole thing in Hawkins happened and they got a new house. It’s nice being somewhere that’s quiet in a different way.
Wayne doesn’t have to work as much as he used to, but he refuses to retire. He only works three days a week, and it’s usually when Jeff works, so he’s almost never alone at home.
It’s nice.
They take turns with different chores. The few times he does go home, he almost always comes right back when he’s given dirty looks and talked about as if he isn’t there.
Months go by like this. He spends holidays with the Munsons, his birthday, weekends where the kids come over for pizza and beer supplied by Wayne because “if they’re gonna drink, might as well be here with me.”
He never came out to Wayne, but he knows he knows. He doesn’t make him feel bad or other or wrong for it. Probably because Eddie’s always been into any type of person no matter what they have between their legs. Currently, he’s pretty into Steve. At least that’s what he can assume based on the things he walks into on accident sometimes.
When Father’s Day rolls around, he’s not sure what to do. He didn’t know what to do for Mother’s Day either, but this feels…different. Like there might be an expectation. Eddie gets Wayne something every year, and apparently Steve has for the last two years, too.
The Garfield mug is silly. He already has one, but this one has a slot for cookies at the bottom.
When Wayne opens it, he laughs, and gets that sparkle in his eye that means he’s about to cry. He doesn’t, but he leans in for a hug and pats Jeff on the back.
Later that night, he fills it with milk and a couple of the cookies Steve made earlier while they sit and watch one of the old movies Wayne loves but Jeff can’t ever really get into. He keeps him company anyways.
He’ll keep returning that favor as long as Wayne lets him.
Prompt: Day 13 - Atari | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse | POV: Eddie | Relationships: Eddie & Jeff | Minor angst, friendship, growing up, disapproving mothers
This is stand alone but if you're interested the prequel to this can be found here.
Jeff’s room is already in disarray when Eddie arrives; boxes and packaging litter the floor, while Gareth reads the manual and Matty scrabbles behind the TV set with a pair of cables.
Jeff steps over the mess, slapping Matty on the back of the head as he passes.
“Make sure you get that in the right hole.”
Gareth snorts. “If we’re counting on Matty getting anything in a hole it’s going to be a long night.”
Theres a yelp and a flurry of hands, and a “fuck you” before Jeff pushes everyone out of the way and Eddie finally manages to get a seat on the bed.
Eddie's spent a lot of time hanging out in this room over the years. Jeff’s been there through most of the roughest spots of Eddie’s life and never once joked about jail bird dads or dropped him for new friends. They're like brothers at this point.
In a couple of months Jeff will be on his way to college doing his thing and Eddie will be in Hawkins doing his, and he’s just going to have to deal with that. So far dealing with it has meant not thinking about it.
A cheer goes up and the screen comes to life, a blue cursor blinking at them all.
“Where do the cartridges go?” Gareth asks.
“They don’t,” answers Jeff, “the games are on cassettes.”
“Well how does that work?”
“If you shut up for five minutes I’ll show you!”
It works slow, is the answer. Minutes of nothing before flickering coloured bars appear, and for a horrible second Eddie thinks he might have a seizure.
“What are you doing with your Atari?” Eddie asks.
Jeff shrugs. “Might sell it. I don’t really have room for both.”
And for some stupid reason the thought of that dusty old Atari sitting in some other kids bedroom really gets under his skin. That was their thing, when they were kids, back when Eddie was hiding from the world. It’s part of something bigger. It’s growing up and growing together, talking non stop and saying nothing, of being angry and laughing till you cry, of needing space and never being alone. It’s a plastic box filled with their secrets and Eddie’s not letting it go.
“How much?”
“Do you really want it?”
Jeff stares at him like he’s gone a little senile, probably because they all know he’s got a few dollars in the bank these days and Eddie doesn’t need to buy second hand anything. But you can’t buy memories at Kmart.
They spend the afternoon staring at interminable load screens and playing games, but Eddie's going out tonight so he picks up his new old Atari and says his goodbyes.
He’s nearly at the front door when Jeff’s mom steps out in front of him. They stare at each other for a moment.
“I didn’t steal it,” Eddie blurts out.
Mrs Williams looks at him, baffled.
Eddie shakes the box. “Jeff’s Atari? Well, mine now, because I bought it, but yeah.”
“I didn’t think you had.”
“Oh. Okay.”
She makes him so nervous.
He should just go now, but these last few months have given him nothing but time to reflect on his life, and all the horrible shit that’s happened to him.
He’s been reflecting on the good, too.
“I know you don’t like me much.”
“Eddie—”
“No, it’s okay. Jeff’s a good kid and you want the best for him.” He smiles self deprecatingly. “I know you don’t hate me, just you know, dissaprove of me? I guess.”
Mrs Williams looks away for a second barely containing her own begrudging smile.
“I don’t know if you remember the night my dad, um…” Eddie gestures vaguely at his face, and he can tell from the resigned look on hers that she knows what he’s talking about. The night he ran to Wayne’s, the night Wayne dropped Eddie here while he ‘ran errands’ and then returned hours later with split knuckles and all of Eddie’s shit in the back of his truck.
“I do,” she answer softly, and she actually looks sad.
Eddie nods, the box getting heavier in his arms.
“I just wanted you to know…I didn’t have very many safe spaces when I was a kid. Don’t have that many now either, I guess,” he tries to laugh that one off but he has a pain right in the middle of his chest and his eyes hurt and she doesn’t find it funny anyway. “But I always felt safe here. And I wanted to thank you for that. Because I know you’d rather I wasn’t here—”
“That’s not true.”
“It’s okay.”
“And stop saying that because it’s not okay. Not a goddamn thing about how you have ever been treated is okay!”
They both flinch, and Eddie waits for the sounds of voices from upstairs but all he can hear is his own heartbeat whooshing in his ears and the sound of Mrs Williams breathing.
“I’m worried about Jeff going off to college and not having you around. That boy is whip smart but he’s naive. You’re not.”
Eddie shakes his head. He’s not and they both know why, and it would be lovely to have lived a life in a solid home with good parents but maybe that’s why he’s so good at looking after his little sheepies, because he didn’t have those things. Has learned all the ways a person can hurt you so he’s better armed for warfare. Uses those powers for good. Protects his friends.
“You are always welcome here, Eddie. No matter what. Understand?”
Eddie doesn’t know why kindness makes him cry now, it didn’t used to, but it’s embarrassing. He shucks the box under one arm and wipes his eyes furiously with his sleeve.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Alright then.”
She helps him with the front door, and gives him a quick squeeze on the wrist.
“You’re a good boy, Eddie.”
Sometime that’s all a kid needs to hear.
Jeff's new computer is a Commodore 64.
These were our Playstations. I still have mine, with tape deck, minus joystick - if you owned Daley Thompson's Decathlon then you'll know why, and there's a fun article about it here for anyone deep into 80s nerdery.
Yes, the games came on cassettes, it could take anywhere between 5 and 30 minutes for a game to load and you better pray nothing went wrong or you'll have to start over from scratch.
So many great adverts for this, but I particularly like this Canadian one from 1984.
His parents have good jobs and they never really struggle the way some of his friends do. Frankie’s dad lost his job a couple years ago and they still haven’t really recovered from that, even with his new job giving him a steady paycheck. Eddie’s uncle works his ass off and still barely makes ends meet in their trailer. Gareth’s mom is the only one doing okay, and she had to lose a husband for the bills to be paid.
He gets new clothes before every school year, and he always has his favorite food and drinks in the kitchen. He was able to take actual guitar lessons and get a brand new guitar as a gift a couple years ago. His little sisters got a swingset for their birthday, one of those ones you buy in the store and they come build for you.
And now he has the new Atari 2600 Jr. He wanted the original Atari 2600, but his dad’s friend who does international business managed to snag this for him in Europe for cheaper. He won’t complain.
He plans on spending his entire spring break playing on it. He already planned on Gareth and Frankie joining him. None of them can reach Eddie.
It’s weird. It’s not that they’re all attached at the hip, but Eddie doesn’t have that many friends. If he’s not at school, selling, or with them, he’s home.
Jeff decides to stop by. He gets the car this week because his older sister is at dance camp and his parents needed him to have it in case there was an emergency. Currently, the only emergency is not knowing where the hell Eddie is.
When he gets to the trailer park, he’s told to turn around. Cops have everything blocked off, but he can see that most of them are circling the Munson trailer. There’s yellow tape and Wayne’s truck, but no Eddie to be seen.
What if something happened to Wayne? He doesn’t see Eddie’s van, so maybe he doesn’t know. Or maybe he’s at the hospital.
He drives straight to Gareth’s and bangs on the door.
“What?” Gareth opens it, bag of chips in one hand, pajamas still on. He’s not even trying to look like he had plans for the day, which kind of pisses Jeff off. Sure, they don’t have school and Gareth doesn’t have a job, but he could at least get dressed.
“Eddie’s in trouble. Or Wayne is. But we gotta find him,” Jeff shoves him into his house. “Get dressed and put on some deodorant. You stink.”
“You stink,” Gareth rolls his eyes. “Maybe Eddie’s just sleeping in his van or something.”
“Dude. The cops are involved. And it must be bad because they aren’t letting anyone into the trailer park at all.”
Gareth goes pale. “Did you see him?”
“No. We need to find him. He wasn’t there,” Jeff explains. “Something’s wrong.”
–
Frankie ends up finding him first. They split up, which is probably not smart in this situation, but they need to cover more ground.
He hides in Jeff’s house for hours. No one knows he’s there and he begs them not to tell anyone. Frankie goes home because it would be suspicious for him to be hanging out and not playing the new Atari. He takes Gareth with him.
“What the hell is going on?” Jeff whispers when he’s sure his parents have gone to bed.
“I have to get out of here, man,” his eyes water as he curls up in Jeff’s closet. “I’ll go in an hour or so, when more people are asleep.”
“Tell me what’s going on!”
Eddie shakes his head. “Something’s fucked, dude. Chrissy-”
Jeff’s eyes go wide. “Did you do something to her?”
“No!” Eddie yelps. “No. I wouldn’t.”
Jeff knows that. But why else would all of the cops in town be at his door if he didn’t?
“She’s in the hospital. They said both her arms are broken and she may be permanently blind. You know anything about that?” Jeff crosses his arms.
“Yes and no. I know about it, but I still don’t know how it all happened. I…” Eddie sobs. “I can’t go home.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine if you just explain what happened.”
“I don’t know what happened!” Eddie’s voice is way too loud for hiding. Jeff shushes him before he can freak out more. “And you know they won’t accept that answer. I’m fucked.”
“You aren’t fucked.”
“I am. But I’m gonna run and they’ll give up looking eventually,” Eddie explains. “Chrissy will tell them the truth and they’ll probably believe her just enough to stop looking for me, but not enough to not bother me. I have to go.”
“But-”
“Jeff. I have to go.”
He wouldn’t leave Wayne if he felt like he had another option. He would never abandon them if he didn’t have to.
So Jeff says the only thing he can think to say.
“If you’re running away, I’m driving the car.”
“What?” Eddie looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “You aren’t getting dragged into this.”
“I already am just by being your friend. You think they won’t come asking questions?” Jeff shakes his head. “If you’re in the shit, so am I.”
“You can’t steal the car to run away with me. You have school next week.”
“So do you.” Jeff laughs. “I’ve got some money saved up. I’ll grab the Atari. We’ll stay at a motel for a couple weeks. I’ll tell my parents I’m touring schools. It’s fine.”
“They won’t believe you.”
“Probably not, but I’ll already be gone.”
Eddie breathes in and out a few times before he stands. “Fine.”
Summary: Gareth decides that it's time for a change.
Word Count: 986
Rating: T
Warnings/Themes: Coming of Age, slight angst, actions and consequences, expectation vs. reality
Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you don’t start on Day 1, you can still join! <3
I have very specific headcanons for Gareth and his parents and I love that CCFest really lets me explore them. Mr and Mrs. Emerson, in my eyes, are a couple who had Gareth later in life, and he is their everything. And shy of him starting to get out of his shell and really find his own, they were his everything too. Think...if Steve Harrington's parents were more present and didn't force him into sports.
You can see a little more of the Emerson family dynamic in my CCFest 2024 Gareth entry and my CCFest 2025 Day Drinking entry.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
A. Newman and Sons was the barber shop in Hawkins. Everyone went there. First haircuts were had, styles referred to by number of at all because old man Newman just knew how everyone liked their looks.
There was nothing stylish, nothing fashionable.
And that was part of the reason Gareth was worried when his mom noted that he needed a haircut one morning.
“It’s getting unruly, honey,” she said, running a hand over his curls in a very annoying, motherly way. She set his breakfast before him and ignored his whining. “Picture day is coming up! I can call and schedule an appointment for you so you look handsome for the yearbook.”
"No!" Gareth shouted.
The panic in his voice made his mother jump, and his dad--who sat across the table--lower his newspaper curiously.
"Don't take that tone with your mother, bud," Dad said gently. "What's going on with you? No haircut?"
Gareth shrank in his seat; ever his dad's little buddy he didn't quite like making the older man disappointed. He supposed it wasn't very metal of him but...he genuinely had a good rapport with his parents. They were older than his other friends parents, significantly older, but honestly pretty cool. They let Corroded Coffin use the garage for practice, for crying out loud.
If Mom and Dad were disappointed...it was like the whole world was over.
"I just," he stumbled over his words. He grabbed his fork and started fiddling with it to distract himself and avoid his parents eyes. "I'll get a haircut, I just don't want Mr. Newman to do it."
"But Mr. Newman has always cut your hair." The wrinkle between Mom's eyebrows got deeper. "I still have the clipping from your first haircut."
"And that's the problem mom," Gareth sat up straighter in his seat. "I don't want the same haircut I've had since I was one. I want something new. Something cool."
He let the thought roll around his head for a second before he blurted out.
"I want a mullet."
Dad pressed his lips together, trying to keep his judgement at bay. If a mullet was what Gareth wanted, who was he to tell his son no? Even if it wasn't his cup of tea. Whatever made him happy.
Still, there was a sense of community and loyalty instilled in him. "Well, Mr. Newman's been around for a while. He knows how to do all sorts of hairstyles. Maybe if we bring him a picture..."
"No!" Gareth snapped again, shaking his head. "There's a new hair place inside of Starcourt. I've seen the...the cool haircuts that they've done. Pretty much everyone in school gets their haircut there now."
He winced, practically hearing Eddie's lecture about forced conformity echoing in his ear.
"I wanna go there and give it a shot," he continued.
There were a few heavy moments of silence at the Emerson's table, as they all weighed their responses.
Finally, Mom and Dad both sighed and nodded. Mom was quick to add a caveat, though."
"If you're old enough to choose where you get your hair cut, you have to make your own appointment, Gare Bear."
"...and so I said to Rick, 'listen I don't know why the guy was paying in polish złoty but it isn't monopoly money. You can still take it to the bank and exchange it for legal tender. So I gave him the weed.' I don't know what his problem was."
Eddie finished up his typical lunchtime story with a laugh, and then did a double-take when he looked around at everyone's reactions.
"Uh...Gare," he stared at his friend and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you wearing a hoodie? It's like...a hundred degrees today."
"You're just noticing now?" Jeff laughed, earning a bird flipped in his direction.
Sure enough, the youngest member of their ragtag group was slumped in his seat at the lunch table, grey hood from his sweatshirt pulled up and cinched around his sweat-laden face.
He mumbled something which caused the other three boys to lean forward to hear him better.
"Excuse me?"
"What was that?"
Gareth huffed and sat up a little straighter.
"I got a haircut," he grumbled and shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket. "And it looks stupid."
There was a beat of silence that Gareth held his breath, expecting his friends to laugh.
Jeff and Dave's voices overlapped.
"We've all been there man."
"How stupid does it look?"
They looked at each other and both scoffed.
"It's not..." Gareth paused and sighed. "It's not that stupid, it's just not what I wanted. What I envisioned."
Eddie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. "That's usually how the haircut thing goes. Let's see what Mr. Newman did, maybe we can salvage it with some scissors from the art department."
"It wasn't Mr. Newman. I, uh, went to that new place in StarCourt," Gareth mumbled. "And got put with some apprentice barber guy. I swear he's in my english class, he looked younger than me. He almost cut my ear off."
The other boys all winced.
"Don't make those faces. I learned my fucking lesson, alright?" He snapped at them. "No more trying new things."
He took a few breaths and then said fuck it and pulled the sweatshirt off. He held his breath and closed his eyes and waited for his friends to start laughing at him.
But all he got was silence.
He waited, and waited, until finally he peeped an eye open and found them all just...staring.
And smiling.
Not mocking smiles, but genuine smiles.
"Well well," Eddie grinned and pantomimed wiping a tear from his eye. "Looks like our baby has finally grown up."
"It looks good, Gare," Jeff added. "Really good. Suits you well."
And it was like the world lifted off his shoulders.
Turns out trying new things was not so bad after all.
