Joyce whispers the question to him almost silently, leaning her head against his shoulder as she holds her steaming mug of cocoa in both hands and takes a slow sip. Jim gave a huge yawn instead of responding, the kind of yawn that El calls a ‘lion’ yawn, because his mouth opens so wide.
He feels Joyce laughing more than he hears it. They’re both being as quiet as possible, trying to avoid waking the giant pack of people sleeping all around their new living room.
The space is huge, but the house itself is enormous. There were six bedrooms, four bathrooms along with an ensuite for the master, a living room, a kitchen, a pantry, a dining room, another ‘family’ room, and a front room just for people to take off their coats and shoes.
Turns out government hush money went into the six and seven figure range when it was an attempt to make you stay quiet about one of your children being raised as an experimental superhero, one of them being trapped in an alternate dimension, and the rest almost dying multiple times in attempts to save the earth from literal monsters.
It had initially felt too big, too spacious for just them, but Jim realized quickly that they were already starting to feel cramped.
Each of the kids had claimed a bedroom, Argyle had slammed a blow up mattress in the middle of Jonathan’s room, he and Joyce had their room, Max had just finished bringing over her things for one of the spare rooms, and they had finally manhandled Steve into bringing over some of his stuff for the other.
Hopper was sure that by the time Christmas came, they all would have finally convinced the kid to just stay here permanently instead of pretending like Steve cared about living alone in that house down the street.
Eight people living under one roof. Eight people, and the cast of characters that walked in and out like the house was their own too.
Five years ago, Jim would have run for the hills. He would have been on a screaming warpath, and he never would have dreamed of trying to make something like this work.
Luckily, five years had passed since he was that person.
All of them were here now. Their six, plus Robin (who basically was here anytime Steve was here), The party, Nancy, even Eddie. Asleep, laying on couches and blankets and mountains of pillows. All of them were out, which was a rarity. No one up with nightmares, or afraid to fall asleep.
Everything was okay. Genuinely, truly, finally, okay.
“No I didn’t,” Jim finally responded, wrapping Joyce in his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of her cheek.
Summary: Hopper finds a way to keep his date with Joyce at Enzo’s.
Warnings: Like 2% angst, 98% fluff.
A/N: Wrote this after the season 4 finale, and I’ve been going back and forth about posting it, but I finally decided to. Happy reading!
Hopper frowned as he walked across the street, his hand in Joyce’s as they patrolled the area. Everyone in town was doing the same in the past week, assessing the damage that occurred because of the earthquake, allowing the upside down to filter into Hawkins. He slowly dropped her hand as they approached the exterior of Enzo’s, the sign above the building torn in half, and hanging precariously. He shoved the front door a few times, jammed by the lack of it being used over the past few days. With one last push, the door gave way, and they were finally able to see the interior.
It was worse than either of them expected.
He stepped through the threshold, taking in the broken windows, shattered bottles across the surface of the bar, splintered tables and chairs, his heavy boots crunching against the rubble that had fallen from the ceiling of the restaurant. He let out a deep exhale as he turned back to Joyce, her face forlorn, almost reflecting regret as she glanced at him.
It was going to be hard to keep that date now.
He walked through, lightly kicking pieces of plaster away as he made his way through the room, stopping in the middle and looking back at the front door. A nostalgic, melancholic smile pulled at one side of his mouth, his mind taking him back to a year prior when he sat in this very restaurant.
“You know…” his fingers lightly slid over the top of the chair at the table, one of the only ones still intact, his eyes flicking up to meet Joyce’s, “I sat right here, waiting for you to come through that door.”
She sighed heavily, her lips pursing as she looked around the room. Seeing it this way was making her feel differently about the past. “I really should’ve.”
He shook his head, eying the dark wood of the chair as he huffed a small laugh. The fact that that very chair and table were still in one piece felt strange; surreal. He was still in one piece too, no matter how much they tried to break him, he was still whole. He was still here, and it was her that kept him going, kept him surviving.
“Well, so long as we’re here…” he muttered, slowly moving towards Joyce and offering her his hand, a small smirk on his face. He had promised her a date, and he was at least going to try to give her some semblance of one.
She lifted an eyebrow, glancing around the room before she turned back to him. “Here? Hop, it’s a mess.”
“Shouldn’t stop us,” he stated, smiling softly.
Joyce’s smile grew as her petite hand slipped into his much larger one, a content exhale leaving her as his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close. He held their clasped hands against his chest, as she laid her head against him, his chin resting on top as she tucked in under his neck. Their feet shifted against the floor, some gentle tune in either of their imaginations helping them find a slow rhythm. Her eyes fluttered closed as she basked in the moment, Hopper doing the same as he pressed a soft kiss to her hair.
Enzo’s may have looked completely different now compared to the past, but they still managed to keep their date.
To celebrate the new poster and release date, a fic prompt: Jopper's first kiss after their reunion (I'm just so excited that outra cominggg)
Time stood still.
Time didn’t exist.
When they were kids and their worlds were still so unfathomably small, Jim Hopper had asked Joyce, “Have you ever seen a ghost?”
She had laughed at the question, balked even, because Joyce knew ghosts weren’t real. No one had seen a ghost. She was so sure of this simple fact that an earnest comfort came from knowing the creeping dread of doubt couldn’t penetrate that fortress.
But now, in a maelstrom of violence, gunfire, and shouting, time stood still and deconstructed itself around her. Joyce had lived a thousand lives in the years since she announced with total certainty on the bleachers at Hawkins High that ghosts aren't real. She had not only encountered things worse, more unknown, more dangerous than ghosts– she was now locked in a dreamy, immovable staring contest with one. That ghost was Jim Hopper, all newly sharpened edges and simmering darkness, panting next to her, wide-eyed. He only let go of her hand when–
Something exploded and they were running again, yelling, throwing themselves against sprawling concrete walls for cover. There was no time to stop, to be afraid, and yet time spread out between them.
There was a moment of reprieve in an alcove as Murray shouted into a radio. Joyce half-expected– wanted, even– that Jim would launch into a tirade about her being here, putting herself in harm’s way, all this way, how could she be so careless… There was no such argument, no raised voice, no anger in his features. He gasped her name, pulled her close, and kissed her. Hungry, loving, haunted. Not a ghost, but a resurrection. She sobbed against him, clutching his face, while he repeated her name like a prayer.
Time didn’t exist here and yet– “TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE, LOVEBIRDS!”
Imagine Joyce, Hop, El and Will going on family dinner dates to Enzos.
The waiter gives El and Will crayons and the children’s menu, and asks if they’re twins.
They say that they’re “Not twins,” but they accept the crayons gratefully, and draw galaxies and their family.
Hop is big and red and Joyce is tiny and yellow. Jonathan has stick arms and legs. Will wears his purple D & D hat. And El? El’s arms are tight around them all.
She has Joy-Joy and Hop and Jonathan and brother.
She’s loved, and she loves.
(Jonathan’s there too, but he’s on dates with Nancy.)
Hopper listened to Joyce converse with Karen Wheeler at the front door. It was nearly 11 PM, and she and Ted had stopped by the pick up Mike on their way home from a dinner party. He was sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette and leaning just out of sight.
He heard them say goodbye, and then there was a brief pause before Karen spoke again.
“You know, Phyllis Bradshaw’s been telling me that Chief Hopper’s been coming around this part of town more often.”
Shit.
He usually parked his Blazer in the driveway, off to the side next to Joyce’s Pinto. It wasn’t ever visible from the road, but nothing got past Phyllis Bradshaw, especially gossip mill fodder.
Tonight the three of them – Joyce, Hopper, and El – had taken Joyce’s car, leaving the Blazer at the cabin.
Joyce sputtered a bit before composing herself. “That old bat has too much time on her hands.”
“Yes, far too much time. Bye Joyce,” Karen replied, and she sounded smug before she raised her voice. “Bye, Chief.”
