#munsler

Meanwhile Eddie is manning the register during the weird slow part of the day between the morning rush and the lunch rush when this mousy man with a camera bag slung around him comes in. Eddie is instantly intrigued, making small talk about the camera thing and to his surprise (and utter delight) the cute mousy man asks if he'd be willing to pose for a photo.

"It'd just be uh, private." Jonathan stammers out, unsure why he feels nervous exactly (well he knows why but he's choosing not to acknowledge it in his own mind), "I mean uh- just- I wouldn't post it anywhere. I'd just be for practice."

Eddie must be grinning like a shark because the cute guy seems both captivated yet meek, like a deer in the headlights, or a mouse in front of a snake. But Eddie agrees with ease (why wouldn't he? a cute guy putting all his focus on Eddie? can Eddie be this guy's personal model or something?) and in a few moments he's being told how to pose and what to do so Jonathan can snap a few photos.

He seems pleased with his shots, and once Eddie's made his drink he thanks Eddie one last time before he heads out. Eddie isn't quite sure if he'll run into the man anymore (he didn't even catch his name, FUCK!) but to his delight a few days later the brown-haired camera guy comes back, holding out a few photos for Eddie to take.

Jonathan thanks Eddie for modelling for him, giving him the photos to keep, and before Eddie can stop himself he's grabbing a marker and scrawling his number on the back of one (the one he thinks he looks the best in) before he's handing it back to Jonathan.

"You know, just in case you're ever looking for a model for more of your photos." Eddie taps the number on the back of the photo, and the little 'xoxo' scrawled beneath it, "Or, if you don't need a model, I've been told I'm a great person to go on a date with."

Jonathan calls Eddie that very evening after he gets home, setting up a date and a photography session. And over the course of both they become very well-acquainted. When Nancy finds out her best friend got both a new boyfriend and a new photography muse she pretends to be deeply aghast, though she's smiling the whole time, teasing him about how his taste is incredibly specific once she sees a photo of Eddie clearly taken on their date, with his long, somewhat frizzy curls framing his face perfectly.

Jonathan just rolls his eyes, saying he does NOT have a type.

Ted doesn't even like cigarettes, but he likes the feeling of being kissed after Alan takes a drag. It's ridiculous; he can barely stand the smell of tobacco, but he can't resist.

That's it, I can just see Alan and Ted being an absolute mess of lovestruck teenagers.

What I’m hearing is Alan giving him a shotgun kiss because “you’ve gotta taste it at least once in your life Wheeler or you haven’t lived”

He can still feel the smoke on his lips 25 years later

Hawkins, Indiana. August, 1959.

"Just trust me, I know where we're going." Alan laughed as he pulled his slightly taller Captain of the Football team along. There isn't a lot that Ted isn't down for, he knows that from experience, and he had plans for their first night back in school.

The air was still warm in the late August night as he pulled him into the clearing, before whipping him forward, throwing his back against the tall rock everyone had dubbed "The Skull." Ted let out a soft huff, tipping his head to the side in a playful manner, "well, geez Munson, I didn't realize we were playing rough. I thought this was a midnight walk, I would have worn looser clothes." Alan smacked him in the chest before putting his knee between Ted's legs, leaning back to look at him.

There is something so cruel about wanting something that can never be yours.

shit he needed a cigarette bad right now.

Without thinking, he pulled out his cigarette pack and lighter, going through the motions to light it, watching Ted as the otherwise sheltered "King of Hawkins High" watched him with minor amusement, crossing his arms in a way most would confuse for attitude.

Ted was famously not a smoker. Not because he thought he was better than anyone or anything. He just hates the smell of nicotine. He says it makes him sick to his stomach, and Alan has no reason to disbelieve him. except the ringlet scars on his shoulder tell him there may be more than one reason for his dislike.

Except now he's watching Alan with his head tipped to the side like a fucking puppy, his eyes following Alan's lips as he inhales and then exhales slowly, the smoke billowing. "Does it actually feel good?" He asked, the question tumbling out without him finding a need to censor himself as he usually does. "Hell yeah, it does, sweetheart. Wanna give it a try?" Ted shook his head no, but continued to watch in curiosity.

There are parts of Ted Wheeler no one has gotten to see. If you were to ask the average person, they'd tell you he was madly in love with Karen Childress, and they have a fairytale relationship. If you asked Bob, he'd tell you Karen and Ted fight a lot- more so that Karen shouts at him and Ted gets aggravated by her constant switching. If you asked Patty, she'd tell you she thinks they are both doomed, and if you ask Alan, he'd tell you Karen likes what Ted has to offer, and Ted loves the idea of Karen. They'd tell you he's the perfect son, Alan could tell you without a doubt that half of the marks on the star athlete are not from his show-stopping wins.

They think he's a one-dimensional bloke who is the dumb but lovable Jock. Alan sees a poet who's been refused the right to exist as he is.

"Want to taste it?" Ted raised an eyebrow as if to ask how that was possible, and Alan was so glad to be challenged. "Alright, sweetheart, you're gonna have to follow my instructions real good. Can you do that for me?" Ted nodded as Alan straightened up, keeping his knee where it was, "I'm gonna take a fat drag of this here, and hold the smoke in my mouth, and when I lean in for a kiss, you inhale, not through your nose, through your mouth. Do it nice and slow, and then when I pull back, you exhale. Think you can handle that?" Ted nodded, straightening slightly himself, "only one way to find out."

Alan chuckled, before taking a long, calculated drag, holding all the smoke in his mouth and throat, as he leaned forward, holding Ted by the chin with his free hand, purposely holding the cigarette far away from him before he placed his chapped lips on the soft ones before him.

He felt Ted open his mouth and inhale the smoke, slow and calculated as well, and when he pulled back, the loverboy exhaled just as slow as he inhaled, allowing the smoke to spill from his pretty lips.

shit.

that was hot as hell.

"Good boy." Ted rolled his eyes, but even in the moonlight, the pink was evident on his cheeks. "Whatever," he chuckled, but Alan knew he was just as flustered by the whole scene. "Well, Blondie, what'd ya think?" Ted shrugged, running a hand through his blond curls, "I mean, I wouldn't be opposed to trying again?"