Summary: You and Eddie are BFF's. Wonder what's going on between you two?
A/N: This is just a fraction of what I've been chipping away at but I wanted to post this because I was proud of it!!! (NSFW 18+ minors gtfo)
December is fucking cold and that cold loves to seep into the trailer from every leaking door and window. Itâs the same at your place, though your mom had remembered to take out the AC units a few weeks ago. Eddie and Wayne have obviously let that slide.
âHey man do you want me to help you with those?â You gesture to the unit in the window from your spot on the sofa where youâre bundled under a blanket. Eddie is curled up in his uncleâs recliner, with at least three sweatshirts on with his knees pulled up into them.
âItâs 8pm."
âOkay? And then you can shut the windows before it snows tonight and, Wayne wonât freeze out here.â You continue to stare at him until he sighs and untangles himself.
âFine fine fucking fine.â
You knew bringing Wayne into would get him up so you go outside to help, because youâre sure if Eddie does heâs going to turn into a god-honest icicle. He unlatches everything from inside and you pull both units from outside, leaving them on the front porch to molder until at least April. You only end up with a little gross water in your shoe when you pull the unit out of his bedroom; Eddie ever the sweetheart, has a dry pair of socks for you when you get back inside to ditch your shoes.
âLook I know that was a good idea, and the space heater is working better but now my toes are freezing.â Eddie is whining at you from the spot heâs stolen on the couch. Heâs looking at you with big, hopeful eyes while wiggling his toes and you catch his drift.
âOkay fine, you can shove your ice cubes under my leg.â You sigh at him, crowding up next him while he props himself against the arm of the couch, immediately shoving his socked feet under your thigh. You get the blanket re-situated around yourself and over his ankles, laughing at the feeling of his toes wiggling under you.
Now the thing that you havenât seemed to have caught on to yet is that Eddie has been using the recent freeze to get closer to you. Not only do you run hot like a brand new kerosene heater (and he is absolutely using that to his advantage), heâs also able to use this as an excuse to be as impossibly close to you at any given time. He canât seem to get enough of you lately and though heâs been aware of his growing feelings for you for quite a while, this new turn has feltâŠalmost fanatical.Â
Anytime you breeze past him and he can catch a whiff of your perfume? Absolute goner.Â
When you lean over him at lunch and you prop your hand on his knee for balance? Itâs all heâs focused on for hours.Â
When you lean back on his van in the morning, legs crossed at the ankle, trying to finish your cigarette before first bell? Heâs never wanted to be a cigarette more in his life. (Heâs not even sure what that means but he means it).
The other day in History, youâd been seated towards the front with Eddie fully planted in his normal back row corner. The room was darkened while your teacher moved through slides on their projector and youâŠoh you had been running your fingers through your hair, trying to put it up. Fingers combing through your dark locks, pulling everything up high on the crown of your head. Youâd been doing it absentmindedly with lazy fingers trawling through loose curls, pulling at a handful of knots.Â
It was all he could do to keep his mouth shut, keep his noises to himself. That it should be his hands running through your hair, his hands gently pulling out tangles, his hands collecting your hair together in his fist, pulling it all back away from your face, letting him see your smirk before you open your mouth for him, small metal ball that sat so perfect on your tongue glinting in the low light of his bedroom.
He had to reel his imagination in so fast it felt like it physically snapped him. He would rather die than pop a boner in fucking History class like a freshman.
So! Toes under a thigh. A thigh heâd spent many a night thinking about. It wasnât like he hadnât ever felt this thigh before, in fact heâd grabbed it many times either giving you a piggyback ride or in some pit at some show or one of the million times you two roughhoused. Itâs just that now that thigh, and its twin, had brought new meaning in his life. It was warm, so god damn warm and he loved the feel of it under his hand. It was soft and powerful and if he could lay his head in your lap again he swears heâd never leave it this time. Heâs tempted to do it right now, just roll over and nuzzle up to you. He knows youâd giggle and probably lay your hand on his hair and muss it up and throw the blanket over him because heâs just always so cold. Maybe he could sneak his finger tips under your thigh, wiggle them around like his toes.Â
Basically feeling her up at that point way to go idiot.Â
He gives himself a shake to try to get his thoughts back on the TV and firmly away from your thighs and how warm theyâd feel on his ears probably.Â
Get it together you fuck.
~
Youâre unknowingly also drifting on your side of the couch, thinking about reaching over and grabbing his face and kissing him stupid but the idea of him firmly pushing you back with that sad look he gets sometimes would actually kill you. At least you think he might do that but then you remember the phone call from a few weeks ago, him drunkenly whispering into the phone about you hating him if he told youâŠsomething. He wouldnât say what but he did keep saying your name over and over like it was keeping him grounded.Â
Or from throwing up, same difference.Â
Honestly, you think he might even be fine with a kiss, a make out marathon letâs be real. Heâd been extra close lately, more so than normal, and so much more gentle with you than heâd ever been.Â
You know for a fact that heâd struck out with Gwen, his current cheerleader-looking-for-weed. Sheâd been nice enough about it but you could tell heâd actually tried with this one, not just using one of his normal quick-cute one liners. Heâd told you about actually turning on his charm, being sweet and all it got him was a giggle and soft âOh, Eddie no Iâm sorry.â
Would you be okay with a pity fuck? Absolutely! You lie to yourself.Â
The remote has fallen out of your hand while youâre staring through the TV screen, really mulling over your choices here. You start thinking about your most recent mornings at school, with the cold biting through everyone, especially Eddie wearing his fucking ripped jeans when itâs 20 outside. How itâs not out of the ordinary for you to hold his hands together to warm them up, or give him your already worn gloves. Sometimes heâll shove his hands in the pockets of your second hand peacoat without preamble. Youâll never tell him (hell you barely admit to yourself) but it makes you blush deep down, all the way to your chest when he does that. The feel of his fingers wiggling around deep in the pockets near your hips while he talks over your shoulder to Gareth. The front of him close to you but just barely not touching and it takes everything in you to not reach out and grab the lapels of his vest, dig your fingers into the denim and leather under that and pull him in close.
Heâll laugh at something Jeff said and his breath, hot in the cold morning frost, ghosts over the shell of your ear and it should be considered an Act of God that you donât lean forward and bury your face in his long neck. His hair would tickle your too cold nose but like, itâd be so god damn soft you know it. Youâve touched his hair before so many times but not like that. Not nuzzled into his throat where you could kiss up to the back of his ear, could run the bar in your tongue against his skin. You wonder what kind of noises heâd make, out in the cold, in front of god and everybody.
Eddie pinches the underside of your thigh with his toes and it snaps you back to the present.
âEarth to Major Tom.â Heâs grinning at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. Heâs obviously been trying to get your attention for a hot minute.
âWhat?â Why do you sound so annoyed?
âGot something on your mind?â
"Iâm thinking.â You lie (only a little) pulling your legs up to tuck under his bent knees, keeping his toes under your leg still.
âSomething more important than this?â He gestures at the TV, some PBS thing on.Â
Oh my god Munson believe me it is.Â
You both chuckle and you start flicking through channels again, now looking for a Christmas thing. If you both start drifting again, neither of you mention it, unaware of the absolute bonfire starting between you two.
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Summary: Man, remember that picture you found? I wonder how you two decide to deal with that little hiccup...
A/N: I've finally come to the realization that this little fic is a labor of love for me. It's my baby so it isn't ever really going to have a real updating schedule. All of that to say, thank you for sticking around and reading you guys! Not a spoiler but just so you know, the end kind of reads like An End, but I have a lot more planned for theses two. This is just like, and end to the pining.
Also, I know others are reading this, but I'm giving a whole shoutout to @fracturedarkness who has been the best cheerleader for me with this story from essentially day one. Literally a ray of sunshine đđđ
(If y'all want a soundtrack at all, just listen to Hozier's Wasteland! Baby. Seriously it's basically all I listened to.)
In sixth grade Eddie had caught mono. It was the first serious illness that Wayne had to deal with since taking guardianship four years earlier. Eddie had moaned around the trailer for two weeks, unable to stay awake for more than a few hours at a time. Heâd been exhausted and couldnât swallow right. The fever heâd get at night made him nauseous those first few days and thatâs the only thing he can compare this sick twist in his gut to.Â
Between the picture clutched in your fingers and the intense look on your face, Eddie thinks he might just turn inside out.Â
âEd?â
It sounds like an accusation in his ears. Youâve found him out, evidence catching the light where it waves around between the two of you. Forget trying to tell you his feelings, heâs got a date with  buckshot later.Â
He takes it back actually, this feels the same as the day you accidentally met his dad. The sudden visit on a rare stint between prison stays. The lead weight of fear and sadness and pure fucking rage making him go cold and numb.
Eddie is so tired of shit going wrong in his life.Â
âEddie?â How do you sound so soft when he has clearly screwed up so bad?
Also, he went for one shower after making a stupid mess and you decided to what, go through his shit?
Donât startÂ
Thereâs a black mood he gets in sometimes. It creeps up his insides, stains him dark. It makes him mean and he doesnât want to be mean, not to you. Not to anyone really.Â
He knows on a deeper level this is his fault, it was only a matter of time before you found the picture. Tucked in books and forgotten in his sheets heâs honestly surprised itâs taken this long. Â
âEddie!â The sharpness of his name jerks his head out of the haze heâs in. Sees your eyes clearly and youâre not mad, in fact he thinks that might be a smile hidden under all the confusion.Â
âWhere did you get this?â Even and calm. Could you lend him some of that? His throat clicks when he tries to swallow.Â
âI think uh, I think I took it. On ha-Halloween. Last year.â He doesnât recognize his own voice, the deep scratch of it. âWe were drunk at Haganâs. I donât know wh-â
âYou took this?â Another wiggle of the polaroid. Your grip on the box of weed is still white knuckled. Okay, maybe that wasnât a smile. He canât really tell anymore, the panic settling in firing off all his alarm bells.Â
âYou werenât supposed to find it.â Heâs so quiet, hasnât been quiet like this in a long time. Wasnât even this quiet sneaking into bedrooms.Â
You take a step forward and he launches back. Head hits the door frame and if god is real he would let the paneling swallow him whole right now.Â
âWhy do you have this? Why all the-â you gesture behind you, âwhy all my shit? You told me you hadnât seen my Theo figure anywhere and sheâs in the drawer with all my shit!â Your voice gets tight, face scrunching up in complete confusion. âI thought I was loosing my stuff but youâre just stealing all of it! My zippo! Eddie what the fuck?!â No, right, thereâs the anger. Heâs pressed so firmly against the door jam itâs guaranteed to leave marks for a week. You take another step forward and he has nowhere to go, pinned under your scrutiny and words and the waving hand holding his shame. But where your voice was rising in anger, it drops suddenly, slides into something softer. âWhy do you have this?â
Yeah Eddie, why do you have it?
Itâs a total accumulation of, letâs be real, two years of unrepentant pining. Two years of being a dick and going after easy girls because you were off limits in his own doctrine. Too good a friend to ruin the relationship, and too good a person to ruin with himself. Itâs nights spent at the bookstore waiting for you to get off, watching with a burning in his gut as the dipshit college guy you work with tries to edge his way into a date. Blunts and cigarettes shared like kisses between lips he isnât allowed to taste otherwise. Itâs the grappling like two idiots fighting, breathless giggles and rough shoves that end in headlock hugs and usually him tapping out first, unable to stand being in your embrace if it isnât for keeps.Â
âIâŠâ the space in his room is somehow bigger than itâs ever been, leaving him adrift in the chaos of his things and your things and the too thin air that youâre somehow breathing in just fine. Thereâs a stutter in his chest where heâs not catching his breath, the familiar heat behind his eyes where the tears are trying to rush forward. âItâs just-fuck! Itâs such a creepâŠmove I know and I just didnât want to l-let it go because it was a good night and-and a good picture and your handâŠâ heâd dropped his eyes to stare at your feet, unable to say his half-assed explanation to your face. âYour hand. On my leg.â Just a whisper. Swings his hand limply toward you. âI just, it was a nice thought.â  His throat is tight and heâs afraid if you keep looking at him he might cry.Â
Heâs watched you take enough steps forward so youâre practically toe to toe with him. In his peripheral he watches you toss the box behind you onto the bed, your other clutching the evidence lightly taps against his chest and rests there.Â
He looks up through his lashes and his hair, keeping his sight obscured like itâll protect him from whatever youâre about to say.Â
âI canât believe-â you cut off with a laugh and a shake of your head, that small smile he thought he saw turning back up. âI feel so fucking stupid.â
Eddieâs stomach has disappeared along with the rest of his insides. Thereâs never been a real foundation of proof for him, just stolen glances heâs caught you in. That lingering look youâd give him, the way youâd hang onto him longer during a hug sometimes. Mostly just blind hope and his own low simmering ego to egg him on.Â
âDo you want to know what I did this morning?â He nods, he really does want to know. Thereâs the smallest drip of warmth trickling down his back with your words.Â
âI woke up and I thought about you. First thought of the day.â A deep breath and he can see the pink blooming up out of the collar of his shirt youâre wearing. âI thought about you and I felt so stupid after, for sitting in the dark and pretending that youâd ever-â You stop yourself again and drop your eyes to stare at your hand on his chest.Â
âYou thought about me?â He asks and you nod slowly. Heâs got an idea about what that might mean. âDo you maybe also have a secret polaroid?â
A break in the tension and you take a step back, laughing. A real one he knows, warm and happy. The photo hits him in the chest where your hand just was, where youâve just flicked it at him. âHow long Eddie?âÂ
âWhat?â He grabs for the photo but it flutters to the ground.Â
âHow long have you liked me?â Your wide eyes and breathless question challenge him. When he doesnât respond fast enough for you, you reach out and push his bangs away from his face, smoothing them back. His wispy armor is gone and with it, surprisingly, some of his fear. Your eyes are clear and waiting, smile still pulling at your lips.Â
âI donât, I donât have like, a date. Like, a-awhile.â Eddie stutters like heâs never spoken these words before. Nerves replacing fear when it starts to finally dawn on him: this isnât going to end in flames.
The hand at his forehead slides down and rests on his cheek. He hasnât taken a full breath in since you pushed his hair back, never mind now that your cradling his face, but the fear has been slowly melting off his shoulders while youâve been staring at him and when your eyes trail down his face, it and the sudden nerves all just disappear.Â
He feels your fingers flex along his jaw and he finally takes that breath.Â
âIâm not reading this wrong am I?â Barely a whisper but he hears you. Shakes his head and opens his mouth to talk but you cut him off, just as quiet, âI donât want us to make a mistake.âÂ
âYou think thisâd be mistake?â The hurt leaks through without his meaning to.Â
âGod no, Eddie I-â
Thereâs a bloom of confidence he hasnât felt before, something that twist up through his ribs and around his spine. âGood.âÂ
Reaching out for you feels natural. Heâs reached out to you a hundred times before but heâs never slid his hands into your hair. Tucked them up behind your ears and pulled you in close, felt you gasp when he brushes his lips against yours. Your hands pull at his shirt where theyâre both fisted in the thin material, keeping him close. When you push into him he feels your mouth open, tongue grazing along his bottom lip; white static across his thoughts.Â
Itâs 10pm on a Thursday night and your kissing him in his room. Wearing his t-shirt and pushing him against the wall while your kissing him. He feels one of your hands flatten against his chest and his heart rockets off and your still kissing him. Thereâs your tongue again begging entrance and he yields, feels that barbell slide across his own tongue and heâs done for. Itâs better than he could ever fantasize. He wants more of it but you just arenât close enough. He grips at your hair to pull you in, to try and deepen the kiss but thereâs no where else to go. You mumble something against his lips but he just swallows the sound and slides a hand down your back till he can get his fingers up under the hem of the shirt, palm laid flat against the small of your back.Â
âEddie.â You sigh his name and he makes it a personal goal right then to get you to do it again. Your hands wander down his chest and he starts his own wandering down your neck, lips finding any open skin he can kiss. âHold on, Eddie-â
âIâm not holding on for shit.â He says in between kisses. âIâve been thinking about doing this for months.â Your laugh vibrates under his mouth and it makes his eyes roll. âDo you want me to stop?â He pauses under your ear, panting against you.Â
âNo.â You sigh and shake your head, leaning into his hand still in your hair. âNo I donât.âÂ
He spends a few more minutes pulling little sounds out of you that heâs filing away for later. Nipping at your skin when you run your hands under his shirt and push it up.Â
âCan I?â The question isnât even finished before he pulls the shirt over his head and throws it behind you on the dresser. âOh!â A giggle when he lays his hands back on you, hands rucking up your own shirt where he can run his palms over your midriff. Thereâs no finesse to his kisses anymore, just laying them wherever he can, anything to make you giggle again. He moves his hands higher, pushing your shirt up so he can finally see your tits again. Itâs been a whole ass year since your wore your dress and heâs dreamt about this every day since. He kisses the tops of them and is mesmerized by the way they bounce back under his touch.Â
âHello old friends.â
âOld friends?!â When you laugh they move with you and he has to force himself to look back up at you.Â
âYeah, you saw the picture. Weâre well acquainted.â He buries his face down in your cleavage and you hear him take a deep breath. âHow do you always smell so good?â Heâs layering kisses again and youâre trying to move around until you can pull your own shirt off. âHey donât rush this, I have this perfectly planned.âÂ
âOh, so you left the drawer open on purpose?â
âAbsolutely, itâs been my months long plan.â He takes a step forward to force you back one. Eyebrows scrunched together he scoffs, âI almost let you catch me for a while and then it happens by mistakeand I act like itâs the biggest fuck up ever and now Iâve got you shirtless. Listen, I plan campaigns babe. You know I can write ten steps ahead.â Heâs walking you backwards till your legs hit his bed, fingers holding onto your belt loops to keep you close.Â
âEddie?â You hook your fingers into the waistband of his flannel pants, pulling down till they shift off his hips.Â
âWhat?â Heâs distracted by your fingers sliding around his hips.Â
âYouâre so full of shit.â He laughs when steps out of his pants and sees you look down, an immediate tilt to your head. Your fingers still against his skin, skimming the elastic of his boxers but he knows youâre staring at the growing bulge. The clever remark he had ready dies in the back of his throat when he hears the quiet âhmmâ, watches your tongue poke out to swipe across your lips.
âIf you keep staring Iâm gonna get self conscious.â One hand covers his mouth to muffle the end of his sentence while the other lightly rubs up against his dick through the thin cotton. Somehow he stays upright, mouth falling open under your hand to pant against your palm.Â
âYou got any other surprises for me Munson?â
Are you talking to him? He canât get a braincell to function with the heat of your hand pressed against him, barely moving at all. The button on your jeans is about all he can fathom, getting them opened and remembering how a zipper works is next. Your breath bouncing off of his chest makes him shiver and kind of brings some of his brain back up and running.Â
âI uh, I got a few tricks up my sleeve.â He tips you back till you sit and he follows close, making you lay down. You laugh when your back hits the bed and you keep laughing, body shaking as he works your jeans down your legs.Â
âWhatâs so funny, giggles?â
âIâm justâŠthis is the first time Iâve had sex in a bed.â
Eddie stops moving and looks up at you from your feet. âIâm sorry, what?â He hopes heâs just hearing wrong, on account of his brain short circuiting a moment ago. Â
âYeah, itâs just always been in the back of cars.â You say it so flippantly, like itâs just a thing that happened to you. âI mean, Itâs whatever. I just realized no oneâs ever pushed me back on a bed before.â Your grin is hazy when you look down your body at him but heâs stone sober now. Youâre the best thing thatâs ever happened to any of those assholes and he knows it. Youâre the best thing to happen to him, and somehow youâve gone this long with shitty car hookups.Â
âNo.â He shakes his head and pulls your jeans off fully. Slides your socks off and tosses them in the pile of your clothes. âYouâre lying, please tell me your lying.âÂ
âIâm not! Thereâs so much more room!â You wave your arms next to you like youâre making a snow angle in his sheets. You sit up quick, bracing yourself on one hand to reach behind yourself to undo your bra when he stops you.Â
âYou donât have to do that, I can help.â Heâs crowded up against your legs where youâve dropped them both sideways.Â
âI know that, I was just making it easier.â His face must drop because you huff at him. âLook, Iâm not stupid Eddie. I just, havenât had the best track record I guess. I just assumed-â
âThat I was gonna be like the other guys.â
You shrug. âYeah, Hawkinâs finest. You know.âÂ
Thatâs a little bit of a blow, he wonât lie, but watching you slam up your walls when theyâve been nonexistent all night makes him switch tactics.Â
âYou deserve better than that.â He swings his legs to the side so he can lean over you, one arm braced against your hip, the other tilting your chin to look at him. He doesnât think heâs ever seen you pout before, your bottom lip sticking out pink and wet and he wants to bite it. âIâm serious.â He leans in close, lips brushing yours. âCan I be nice to you?â He whispers against you and your face flushes immediately, eyes darting down to stare at the bed. He canât stop the grin spreading across his face, delighted with how flustered you get.Â
âI-youâre always nice.â You mumble, chin fighting to get away from his hand holding you still.Â
âI can be nicer.â He closes the small gap and kisses you again, still holding your chin. He can feel your breathing speed up when it ghosts over his cheek where youâre nose is pressed. When heâs certain you wonât pull away he moves his hand to your back, unhooking the clasps one by one. Eddie pulls back to look at you properly, fingers lightly pulling the straps down your arms. âCan I?â
âYou donât have to ask.â You say, still nodding your head at him anyways.Â
âItâs good manners.â He says simply, wiggling your bra off of you, tossing it to join the growing pile. Youâve shifted back to your elbows, further away from him but giving him a better view. None of his fantasies are measuring up to real life. Just watching the way your tits lay when you shift has him practically drooling. He runs a fingertip from between them and down to your navel, marveling at the softness of your skin. Runs that same fingertip over to a hip and you jump just a little. âTicklish?â
âMaybe.â Your voice is wobbly, chest rising and falling faster. He lays his palm flat against your stomach and runs it up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast and you sigh, letting your head fall back between your shoulders.Â
âYou are so fucking pretty.â Eddie means it. Even before all the crushing and jealously he could see it. With your head back he can watch the blush creep down your chest and he marvels at that too.Â
âEddie you canât just say shit like that.â You sound strained from the angle your at. He runs his thumb under the swell of your breast again just to watch you shudder.Â
âWhat, that your pretty?â He leans down to place a kiss on your chest, can feel your heartbeat tick up faster. Heâs only got so much restraint before he grabs you up into his lap but heâs trying hard to be a gentleman about it. You deserve that much for your first time. Well, not overall but with him? Eddieâs determined to make you forget about every other guy whoâs even looked at you.Â
âLook at me.â Heâs dropping kisses along your collarbone trying to get you to lift your head up. His hands have been itching to grab your tits but he wants you to stop being shy for a minute. âPlease.â Heâs trying to kiss up your neck when you finally lift your head. âCan you scoot up for me?â He asks and you oblige. As soon as your head hits his pillow heâs leaned back, pulling your knees back up so he wedge himself between them. He grabs your hand and pulls it up to kiss your open palm and you close your fingers around his cheeks, making him laugh.Â
âWill you stop being cute and just touch me?âÂ
âHow?â He kisses down your wrist, watching you get more flustered.Â
âI donât know, whatever you normally do?â
âNo, that was with them, they donât matter anymore.â He makes it to the crook of your elbow before he lets go and crawls over the top of you, getting in your face to stare you down. âWhatâd you think about this morning, hm?â Heâs keeping track of all the little whimpers your making, the way you bite your lip when he makes you nervous. You wonât meet his eye so he follows your line of sight and you huff at him.Â
âStuff, Eddie. Oh my god.â You cover your face with your hands and he thinks he can feel the heat radiating off of you. Itâs driving him crazy in the best way, he doesnât think heâs ever had this effect on anyone before.Â
âAw câmon. Tell me.â He kisses each finger before moving down to your knuckles and honestly, he just canât help himself anymore when he brings a hand up to knead at your tits, a quick pinch of a hardened nipple and you gasp into your hands. âWas it this?â He pinches again and you wiggle under him, hips jumping up against him and he drops his head. Youâre hot everywhere, and the core of you pressed up against him through his boxers is going to do him in if heâs not careful. âIf you donât tell me Iâm gonna have to guess and this could be a long night.â He rolls his hips into you to try to get his point across and to try to get some relief.Â
âIs that such a bad thing?â You ask, pulling your hands down to just cover your mouth. Your eyes are wide and glassy, pupils big and dark.Â
âNo, but I want to know what I do in these dreams of yours.â He moves back to your neck to make a path to your chest where he laps at your nipple. âSomething like this?â He asks before wrapping his lips around and sucking, tongue flicking over sensitive skin. You arch your chest up and thereâs a laugh caught in your moan. He moves over to your other side, nipping at you before mouthing at your other nipple, hand teasing at your hip. He snaps your underwear against you and you let out a quiet âowâ and try to swat at his hand. âOr was I somewhere else?â His fingertips graze under the band and inch down. Your knees pull up tight around him and heâs so close to saying fuck it to his own game.Â
âYou were-fuck Eddie, you were going down on me.â You get so quiet, the one hand still on your mouth muffling your voice.Â
âOh?â He lets your nipple go with a wet sound, big grin already set in place.Â
âIf your gonna make fun of meâŠâ
âAbsolutely not.âÂ
You watch him over your hand place a scattering of kisses down till he hits your underwear, giving you one last questioning look before he hooks his fingers in and pulls them down. Youâre also starting to feel a little self conscious when you realize he hasnât taken his eyes off you.Â
Payback
âEd.â He just runs his hands up your legs, big palms warm against your thighs. He pulls your knees out a little further before leaning down and re-situating himself between your thighs, leaving open mouthed kisses along the inside. Youâre torn between wanting to watch him and wanting to cover your face in embarrassment when he makes the decision for you, pulling at your elbow to drag your hand down to his head. Heâs got that lazy smirk on his face and you can feel his breath skipping across too sensitive skin.Â
âGive you something to hold on to.â You want to laugh but heâs too quick, fingers moving in to hold you open for him. Your head drops into the pillow when he licks a broad tongue from your center right up to your clit, your back arching up and Eddieâs laugh vibrates through you.Â
âOh fuck.â
âI havenât even started yet.â You can hear the proud smirk in his voice and if youâd like to say something smart back you wonât, too focused on his mouth working you over. His tongue is soft, even when he points it, uses it to prod at your opening and you forget any remarks you might have had for him.Â
âEddie.â You pull at his hair when he wraps his lips around your clit and he groans. Youâre stuck concentrating on his mouth until he slides one finger in and you choke on a gasp. He pulls his mouth away and lays his head against your leg, watching you from under his wet hair.Â
âIs this what you thought about?â He can see you nod into the pillow, hand twisted next to your head in the fabric while he pumps his hand slowly.Â
âItâs what I thought about.â He hooks his finger up, trying to find that soft spot to make you melt. âI think about it all the time.â The grip on your thigh is tight, keeping it close against his cheek. âEver since you told me about those shitty dates.âÂ
âSeriously?â You lift your head, eyes half lidded and face scrunched up.Â
âI should have nutted up and said something. They didnât deserve you.â He pulls his finger out and you watch him suck it into his mouth, watch his eyes roll in his head. You groan and he adds his middle finger before he pulls his hand out, spit slick fingers running up over your clit, teasing you before he slides both back in. He leans in to run his tongue through your folds, watching you from under his lashes while you wriggle around and clutch at the pillow. The hand in his hair grips tighter and your legs squeeze up around his ears and heâs surrounded by you, the low chanting of his name keeping him planted in place. He finally finds that spot, feels you shudder under him before you moan, tilting your hips up to chase his touch.Â
âEddie Eddie Eddie fuck!â You keep rolling your hips against his face and he canât help himself. Heâs been pathetically rutting into the mattress listening to you whine and he canât take it anymore. He taps under your thigh to get your attention, really gets it when he fully pulls away and you look down at him all concerned. âWhy are you stopping?âÂ
âGood reason.â He stands up and pulls off his boxers, rooting around his nightstand for the condoms he knows are in there. Heâs oblivious to you on the bed, sitting all the way up now and staring. Of course theyâre not where he left them, instead tucked behind his lamp but he grabs one and climbs back on the bed before he realizes what heâs done. âOh.â Eddie feels his face heat up when he looks down at himself. âI probably should have done that better.â Heâs expecting you to laugh or sigh or say something witty but you just snatch the foil out of his hand and tear it open. You only pause for second before wrapping your hand around him and heâs positive this isnât going to last as long as heâd hopped. When you roll the condom down he hisses and drops, head falling into your shoulder.Â
âYou okay champ?âÂ
He just nods and whines when you give him a few easy strokes, watching your hand move up and down his cock. Youâre so much more gentle with him than he is with himself. Eyes half open and mouth hanging heâs sure he looks fucking stupid but he doesnât care, doesnât want you to stop touching him. When you scoot closer and pull his face up it takes him a moment to realize youâre kissing him, for him to react and do something.Â
âCâmere.â He shakes out of his haze enough to move back between your knees, pulling your hips so your ass is flush against his thighs. He pulls your leg up to hook over his hip, placing a quick kiss on your knee before lining himself up.  He rubs the tip of cock against you, catching on your clit twice and making you whimper.Â
âPlease Ed.â He doesnât need to be begged twice, grabs the base of his dick and sinks in slow. Sees your breath catch and your eyes roll, âOh fuck it.â He bottoms out, can feel you clenching around him tight and hot and gasping and laughing and he looses all composure. Fingers dug into your leg wrapped around him he snaps his hips back and into you, punching out a sharp peal of laughter. He does it again, loves the way he can hear the choked off gasp in your throat. When he picks up his pace you grab at the sheets, twisting them up off his bed.Â
âFucking th-thank you-u!â Itâs stuttered out between thrust, your face flushed and twisted up in a smile.Â
âYou know how many times I thought about this?â He has to talk, if he doesnât talk heâs going to blow his load and he refuses to let your first time together end before a full minute passes. âEvery time I looked at that picture I thought about it. I should have fucked you in that bathroom.â Your nails scratch at his thigh where they try to find purchase. âAll the rides out to the lake oh fuck- I should have done this sooner, yeah?â He licks his thumb before bringing it down on your clit, running tight circles around it. Your back arches off the bed and he feels you clench around him. âIs that it? Right there-ohmygod.â It almost sounds like youâre crying his name just before you come, nails digging into his thigh when it crashes into you. He watches you tense up and then collapse against the bed, pliant under him where he starts to loose his rhythm. The heat that reached up fast burns up his spine while he watches you revel in your aftershocks, already trying to grab him down to you. The hazy look in your eyes and that grin youâre flashing him send him over the edge, burying himself with a deep groan, your name scattered between curses. Heâs whited out until he can catch his breath, gripping your thigh until he can see straight. In the distant ringing in his ears he can hear your giggle under him, soft like the hands trying to pull him closer.Â
âHey.â Your eyes find his in his own haze, slowly coming back down to earth. âCome here.â Gentle tugs to get him to lay down but he shakes his head, asks for minute. He pulls out to get rid of the condom and disappears into the bathroom for minute, leaving you to roll around his bed. When he comes back he turns off his light. Sees that youâve pulled the blankets up under your chin, one finger poking out to beckon him back in. âIâm cold.âÂ
Eddie would like to pinch himself just to make sure this is real. In all of his imaginings he never let himself have this part. The sex was easy to think about but this hurt too much to ever linger on. He finds his pants first before crawling back into bed, snaking a hand around your middle and pulling you into him. He wedges his nose up under your jaw and hums, leaving a few soft kisses in his wake.Â
âAre you always this cuddly?âÂ
âI donât normally get to cuddle.â Youâre both quiet in the dark, hushed tones under the blankets.Â
âHuh.â Your fingers tangle up in his hair, nails lightly scratching over his scalp. It sends a deep shiver down his spine and he has a split second where he feels like crying. âTheir loss.â He feels the kiss you leave on his forehead and just buries his head further into your neck. You smell like you always do, sweet and deep and now a little like him. He drifts off without meaning to.Â
Itâs not daylight yet, but his room is lighter. Thereâs no alarm clock going off next to his head so he looks around, trying to find whatever it is that pulled him out of his warm cocoon.Â
Bleary vision in the dark, he can barely make out your form jumping quietly into your jeans. Heâs peering at you from under the covers, watching you get dressed. You stop mid jump to pick something up, staring at it before padding over to his dresser and tucking it into his mirror. Heâs basically awake when you turn to open his door and he quietly asks you where youâre going.Â
âJesus fucking Christ youâre gonna give me a heart attack.â You clutch you chest and try to search through the dark for his eyes, finally see him when he pulls the sheets back a bit.Â
âSeriously, where are you goinâ?â
âItâs almost 5. I figured Wayne was gonna be home soon so I cleaned up the living room and like, I didnât know if I should hang around?â
âYou sleep over here all the time.â He slides a hand out from under the covers to make a grabby hand at you. âHe wonât care.â
âWell I mean, Iâm not usually naked in your bed dude.â
âThen leave your shirt on.â Eddie doesnât understand what youâre not understanding. âI mean it, Wayne isnât gonna care. If anything heâll be happy I stopped bitching about you.â
âYou bitch about me?â
âNo, I bitched about not having you. Thereâs a difference. Now come here, Iâm cold.â He lifts the blankets up quick, making a sweeping motion for you to get back in. âPlus, he wonât say anything unless you do. He likes you too much to embarrass you.â Youâre out of your jeans again and crawling over him, trying to avoid kneeing him.Â
âAww, he likes me?â
âWell I like you too.â Youâre barely settled before heâs wrapped around you, leg hitched over your thighs and pinning you down. âWhatâs that get me?â Heâs nosing along your jaw again.Â
âDepends what youâre looking for.âÂ
âMm. Concert tickets to see Ozzy in Indy.â
âOh thatâs a big ask.â
âI see. How about a kiss?â He pulls back to smile lazily up at you.Â
Summary: Boy, Eddie sure is head over heels for you, and is also a teenage boy. Wonder what he's thinkin' about this time?
A/N: This is actually a part of part 3. It was longer but i'm having a hard time figuring out a good end and this one had it. Short like part 1, but there's still more to come and a lot quicker this time too. The holidays really got the best of me, sorry for the wait!
Warnings: 18+ (lil babies go on, git.), getting spicier but not like, anything filthy (we're getting there).
Eddie is fully willing and able to admit that heâs being an asshole in this situation, but like, just not yet.Â
December had flown by and for a whole god damn month he had managed to not only get it in multiple times with one of the prettiest cheerleaders Hawkins had to offer, heâd also gotten to spend a significant (and close) amount of time with you. Every morning had been spent in usual routine of his hands in your coat pockets, your scent trailing him while he walked to first period.Â
And, yâknow, It wasnât like he could do this with Gwen. He was positive heâd get his ass kicked if he laid a hand on her in public, and it wasnât even like he really wanted to huddle with her like he did with you.Â
And therein lie the problem.Â
While Gwen was fun (so much fun) she just wasnât you.Â
And no matter how many times sheâd sucked his dick (itâs been six, heâs got the mental tally going), or invited him to climb into her room, or slid into the back of his van, it didnât actually matter because on the whole of it:Â
She. Wasnât. You.Â
Heâd been waiting to find fault, honestly counting the days down at one point, because it was bound to happen. She would finally slip and say something abhorrent to him. Something about his music or his club or, the worst, his life in general. He thought youâd be the trigger this time, considering how often Gwen brought you up.Â
âSo your friend, the conjoined twin.â
âWhat about her?â Heâs kissed halfway down Gwenâs stomach, pausing to look up at her. He has no fucking clue which way this is going and heâll be god damned if heâs got fingers in underwear if itâs mean. Hackles raised and-
âSheâs like, really funny.â Oh thank god.Â
âOh sheâs a riot. You should hear her and her friend Jackie get going. They got a whole bit about being Stepford Wives thatâs actually pretty clever.â
âIâve never seen that.â The course correct is strong; he wants so badly to explain that itâs a book as well. He instead reminds himself of the naked girl under him and becomes intimately acquainted with her bellybutton. Â
âSheâs like, so good at making people laugh. I think she would have made a great cheerleader.â Gwen is a little toasted, propped up in the back of Eddieâs van while he kisses down her neck and tries to avoid the joint sheâs waving haphazardly around his head. His fingers have crept up to the button on her jeans and sheâs dazedly helping him pull them open.Â
âIâll have to tell her that, sheâs gonna laugh her ass off.â And he sure as shit will, as soon as he can get the image that has just been borne into his mind, out. You? In a cheer uniform? Heâs clutching his metaphorical pearls over the idea of you in nothing but the cardigan and the bobbie socks, all pliant and willing and on your knees with his fingers pressed in your mouth-
âOh? You talk about me a lot?â Gwen is looking down at him all soft and open and he feels guilty for a second.Â
Focus, asshole. You got real girl in front you.Â
âAll the time.â He wonders if she can hear the white lie in that.Â
âWhyâd you call her Sam?â Gwen asks this in a kind of airy way, like sheâs trying not to care. Eddie catches the tone, tries to explain as easy as he can. He feels like heâs trying to keep a horse calm.Â
âSamwise.â
âWhat?â He doesnât want to roll his eyes but she asks so quickly, like she doesnât want to actually listen.
âSamwise. Heâs one of the Hobbits from Lord of the Rings. Frodoâs best friend.â
âAnd thatâs you?â Sheâs smiling again.Â
Crisis averted, filly is calm.Â
âI like to think so.â Thereâs a self depreciating ring to that but Gwen doesnât hear it. Sidles up to him and grabs his vest to pull him closer. They are very obviously out of eyeshot of anyone of any importance.Â
âIâve never read it before.â
âI could read it to you next time I come over.â He runs a fingertip down the side of her face, pushes some strands of hair back. Theyâre silky and straight and blonde and he likes how it catches the light.Â
Nothing like yourâs though.Â
âWill we have time for that?â Sheâs trying to be coy but she hasnât quite got the foundations of being sexy down. Eddie grins, his soft spot for naive preps seeping through.Â
âBaby thereâs always time for hobbits.â
He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her to come fully out of her woodwork and âCarrieâ him, to borrow your phrasing.
âNo, not her as Carrie. You as Carrie.â
Itâs whatâs kept him from admitting to himself that heâs being an asshole about this whole thing. Sheâs actually justâŠnice. Sheâs flippant about them sure, but for the same reason he is.
It ainât that serious.Â
He canât deny he isnât having fun with Gwen but itâs literally just sex and weed.
If he was better with his own emotions, he wouldnât have let this go on for so long. Itâs not like heâs deluded himself into thinking him and her are dating, but sheâs gotten comfortable with him. Itâs been so easy lately for her to call, drip the suggestion of sex down the phone line and wait approximately 15 minutes for him to pop through her window.Â
And yeah sure, woe is Edward Munson, 18 year old social outcast, fucking around on the regular with one of the popular girls. He isnât expecting any laurels and accolades for his heroism here, but he did think he had a little less cowardice in him.Â
If he could just figure his shit out with you, then heâd be golden.Â
You, both the figurative and literal woman of his dreams.Â
The denim clad goddess, the pit dwelling priestess, the nerd loving oracle!Â
You, who always had his back.Â
You, who never cared when he whined about his girls or his games or his guitar.Â
You, who had hung around longer than anyone he could remember.Â
You, who was his best friend.Â
Ah, the other problem.Â
If there was one thing Eddie refused to do, it was ruining the best friendship heâd ever had by thinking with his dick.Â
âŠEven if he really did want you to like, maybe consider his dick. Heâs been told more than once that itâs great! (Big even! But heâll get back to thatâŠ). Hell, heâs even 5 for 5 by his own mental scoring in bringing all the girls heâs been with to their screaming highs. Multiple times in the same night!
Iâm a pleaser, sue me.Â
None of them really matter at the end of the day though, when heâs alone and lonely. The whole trailer vacant and dark and quiet save for his music playing softly from the tape deck. Heâs running his finger along the edge of the sacred polaroid like heâs trying to summon you right out of it.Â
All of his past experience boils down to practice in this moment.Â
Practice for when he can get his head out of his ass and just tell you how he really felt.Â
Practice for when heâll hold your head in his hands and whisper his feelings right into your open mouth. Tilt your head back and dip his tongue in, lick your own confessions right out of you. He knows he could do it too, heâs heard all about your exploits. Half assed fucking in the backseats of too small cars and not one asshole to even try and go down on you!Â
And what a crying shame that is.Â
God, Iâd treat you right.
Eddie knows the warmth of thighs pressed up around his ears, fingernails running running running over his scalp, hands pulling at his curls. Knows the little sighs, the shivers that run up a spine when he licks right up their hot center, tongue dipping inside for a taste. Knows how to roll the flat of his tongue right up to that little pink button and go in for the kill. The way hands will grab at anything they can find purchase with and hold on while they come sighing and squealing and moaning his name EddieEddieEddie!Â
All thatâs just been practice for you.Â
Heâs driving himself insane thinking about your legs wrapped around his head, fingers dug into his hair, chanting above him. The low timber your voice gets when youâre Very Concentrated.Â
Itâd be his pleasure, and his alone, to waste an hour or two between those thighs making a mess out of you. Heâd bury his fingers in your cunt and find that spot, the one he knows will make you see galaxies. The one thatâd make you lock his head in place with your legs. Heâd be relentless in his pursuit of your orgasm (and your second and third and fourth), have you whimpering and moaning and loud for him.Â
Eddie knows heâs truly good at a few things in life, and this is one he prides himself on.Â
The thought of you trembling undone under his hands is the catalyst for him to finally drop the picture and reach down under his sheets to let his dick free. Four quick strokes is all it takes and heâs coming, eyes rolled so far into the back of his head he sees white. His breath catches in his throat and he can hear himself letting out a low whine, warmth splashing over his stomach. When he floats down to a more even breathing he picks up his shirt from beside his bed to wipe himself off and can feel the plummeting beginning to take hold.Â
Oh here it comes.
For all of his grandstanding by himself in the dark, heâs not going to grab you round the head and kiss you stupid. Post jerkoff clarity is settling in and reminding him of who he is. Which is your friend first and foremost, and also someone who has never quite grasped how to vocalize his emotions. Someone whoâs still being led by the dick by a nice set of eyes in a pleated skirt. Someone whoâs gonna get tossed to the side once prom season gets into full swing. Eddie covers his eyes with his forearm, takes a few deep breaths and wills the stinging in his eyes to go away. A new kind of shaky breath fills the quiet of his room and if he lets himself cry for a while itâs a secret between him and the four walls.Â
~
Later when heâs outside letting the cold air clear out his lungs after his cigarette, his red face cooling in the night, he has his come to jesus moment. Heâd decided after his little crying spell that heâd break it off with Gwen. Itâs not like he was going to be her date for anything (not that he even really wanted to), and not like heâd ever even consider going to something as conforming as prom.Â
And they werenât even serious!Â
So, he cuts her loose, she gets to look like the good guy and heâs free again.Â
Free to hang out with you and go to shows, go eat and drink and get high and share smokes.Â
Free to get his shit together and finally sit you down for a little talk. If he couldnât find the balls to breathe his confession into you the way he fantasized about, then he could put coherent thought to paper with pen and write himself a little speech.Â
Summary: This is quite the eventful day your both having, huh? I wonder what winter wonderland delights await you in the evening.
A/N: Ha ha ha this took so long oh my god. I'm still not happy with this, but it is what it is. The format is a little funky but it's because this was written in chunks and also frankensteined together a bit. I do hope everyone has fun though! I'm almost done with the next part, mainly because this was such a struggle and I ended up writing ahead of myself. Thank you my lovelies!
Warnings: Nothing I can think of, just a little self love ;) still 18+ minors g t f o please
The dim blues of the too early morning paint the wall, a small patch of pink sunlight glinting off the tacks holding up the posters there. Itâs 6am, a whole hour before youâd normally be up but youâd gone to bed late and itâs bled through with a night of restless sleep. Those first couple of bleary minutes the only time your brain feels quiet and still.Â
The chill of the morning lingers, tips of your fingers cold where you groggily try to move your arms and hands to warm them up against your stomach under your shirt.Â
Itâs when the grogginess is gone but youâre eyes havenât adjusted to the light that you start the little patterns, dragging your finger tips over your skin and slowly inching the hem of your t-shirt up. Under the blanket is warm and you wiggle in further to tuck your nose below the edge of the comforter. Fingers continue their featherlight dance across your ribs, pulling goosebumps up along their wake and in the quiet alone you have for another hour, you can pretend theyâre not your own.Â
Heavier, bigger. Thumbs calloused, rough where they drag just under the swell of your breast and the shiver runs right up the back of your neck, over the crown of your head. A little sigh and one hand roams lower, splayed wide and flat against the soft skin of your belly. Traces over your hip and up your thigh where it digs into the supple skin there, pulls it out and down towards the bed. The hand still at your chest pulls up on the shirt to get a handful of your tits, rolls the already hard nipple between thumb and forefinger earning a low gasp from you.Â
Havenât even gotten to the good part yet.Â
Youâd asked Eddie once, jokingly, just what he was doing to keep these girls around.Â
âNeed pointers?â Heâd laughed when youâd pushed his shoulder. Shrugged all cool and casual, chewing on the straw of his drink for moment.
âGot a talent for eating out.â A smug grin across his face when youâd coughed, choking on the sip youâd just taken.Â
âWhat, too crass? Are you blushing?!â
That had turned into a night of secret spilling and Eddie finding out youâd slept with some âreal fuckinâ losersâ, his opinion. Â
âSo they just like, never offered?â
âNo? Why would they? We were already fucking.â Youâd mumbled that into the worn cushion of the couch, face down to hide your embarrassment.Â
âBecause itâs fun?â
Fun.Â
Heâd said it was fun.Â
Head buried between thighs and mouth searching, hands grabbing.Â
Hands that move from the inside of your thigh to your underwear to slide under the band and dip right into the heat of you, running lazy fingers through your folds, dipping lower to tease and gather slick to pull back up and right over your clit. Your head slides to the edge of your pillow and you let it hang over the short edge while a string of curses float out of you.Â
You imagine him in a dozen different ways. Hovering over you, laying kisses from your cheek down your neck and finally to your chest. Nipple between teeth while he buries his fingers deep in you.Â
Or leaned back on his heels, watching himself spread you open while he lazily jerks off, heavy cock twitching in his palm, whispering all the things your desperate to hear him say.Â
Mostly you picture his halo of curls, laying soft across your lap. Thick fingers dug into the meat your thighs pulling you closer to his face, keeping you pinned to the bed. Tongue hot while he runs the point of it through your folds, smiling against you when that sigh escapes you again.Â
The slow circles youâve been working over yourself speed up, hand still kneading your breast and you hone in on the things you are familiar with.Â
The heat of him standing close. How his hands feel against you. The smell of clean laundry and smoke and whatever the hell deodorant he wears. That impish grin with his stupid dimples bracketing his pink lips. His mouth that never fucking stops. All the little personal ways he hangs around your life you play on repeat.Â
The white noise of quiet in your room turns to ringing in your ears, drowns out the pathetic little whines and moans falling out of you. The heat thatâs been building low finally breaks, burns up through your abdomen and licks up your spine. A breathy sigh of âEddieâ and the heat hits your face, the blush creeping in fast enough to make you feel lightheaded.Â
Thereâs a few minutes where youâre locked up, knees pulled in tight together and back arched up off the bed while you come back down to earth.Â
Under the covers is still warm. Your limbs are pliant now. Your brain is buzzing and awake.Â
The clock is loud when it goes off next to your head, pulling you out of any kind of daze you were lingering in. A sigh puffs the blanket up around your face and you ignore the knot of guilt starting to form under your ribs.Â
Cold bites through your open coat while you dig around the inside pockets for your zippo. The two of you are close, leaned up against the front of Eddieâs van to absorb the left over heat.Â
âI think I left it at home.â You look up and he flicks his lighter to life in front of you, grinning over the flame.Â
âFigured.âÂ
Cupping your hand around it to shade it from the wind gives you a little kiss of warmth from the fire. The early morning sun warming the back of your neck where it peaks out of the clouds. The van warming your thigh through your jeans. Itâs cozy, this little moment. A breath in and a puff of smoke escapes your lips. Eddie pockets his lighter but doesnât lean away so you stay close too and ask him if he actually did his homework for English. Share the cigarette between the two of you, foggy breath and smoke mingle with your voices while he tells you about his essay.Â
âItâs probably fine, I got wordy again, you know how OâDonnell feels about that. Figure I can scrape a C out of it.â
âJust a C?â
âShe fuckinâ hates me.â He laughs and you let your eyes wander over his smile, watching the cigarette move in the corner of his mouth. âYou wanna see it?â Heâs digging through his bag where itâs propped on the small hood.Â
âYeah, lemme see it.âÂ
His fingers brush yours again when you grab for the smoke and you think about your early morning solo tryst. You cast your face down briefly so he doesnât catch the stupid little grin on your face. Heâs unaware when he fishes out his notebook and flips it open for you to glance at. You scan the page fast, it looks like yours and honestly, he might slide a B out of this.Â
Maybe.Â
âI think this was just busy work before break, so you might get lucky.âÂ
âFor once in my life.â He scoffs and you let out a sour little laugh.Â
Oh, just once?
âWhat?â
âArenât you always getting lucky?âÂ
âOh come on.â His grin is shy and he reaches out and snatches the cigarette right out of your mouth, earning him a gasp.Â
âExcuse me?â You slap at his chest and mange to push his shoulder away from you but heâs planted firmly in place. He raises his eyebrows at you, still grinning and laughing. Another little push and you hold your hand out, waiting for him to drop the cigarette back between your fingers.Â
âItâs not all the time.âÂ
âOh only when she sends out the call to arms?âÂ
Eddie just sighs at you. Shakes his head and takes one last pull before handing the cigarette back. Around a mouthful of smoke he says, âYou can kill it.â He gathers up his bag, stuffing the notebook back in and starts to turn around the corner of the van.Â
âHey, I wasnât trying to upset you.â Youâre voice is small behind him and your tug on his bag slung over his shoulder makes him pause to look back at you. âI was just teasinâ.â
âIâm not upset, I promise.â His expression is soft.Â
âCome on, I donât want OâDick bitching at me for being late too.â He flicks his head toward the front of the school, setting off again and you stub out the smoke, hot on his heels.Â
Her footsteps are light in the crunch of the gravel walking over the trail that leads out to the picnic table in the woods. Normally she tries to not meet him during school, just sneaking over to his van after the last bell before anyone can see. Today though sheâd slipped a note in his locker when the hallways were dead.Â
âPicnic during 3rd?â
Sheâs not embarrassed to be seen with Eddie. Well, not exactly. Heâs just not her type per se, if heâs anyoneâs really. She just doesnât want to be seen with him is all. Itâll cause a fight and everyone will talk and thatâs the last thing she needs, especially if Mark is actually trying to ask her to prom.
Look. Eddie is justâŠEddie. Heâs loud and obnoxious and arrogant and always smells like cigarettes and his hair is too long and and and-
And what.Â
Heâs a nice guy. He didnât make fun of her like her teammates when she didnât even know how to smoke. Heâd talked her through how to roll it, how to smoke it, how to hold her breath in till it didnât hurt. All smiles and small talk and by the end of it they were something like acquaintances.Â
So back she went, another $30 in hand, to the picnic table in the woods and heâd been all jokes again. Asked if she needed help again. Made her feel comfortable again.Â
And then he had to go and ask her out.Â
Not out-out. He knew better than that. This was one of those quiet things that sheâd heard some of the other girls talk about.Â
Fool around when parents arenât home kind of thing.Â
Date with the back of his van kind of thing.Â
A little stoned stargazing and wandering hands at the lake kind of thing.Â
Still, sheâd said no. She didnât want secondhand dates, she wanted Mark and his first class ones.Â
Mark and Gwen. Gwen and Mark.Â
But Mark hadnât said anything yet, all she had were the cheer teams whispers and her own intuition to go on.Â
(Maybe she did want those dates.)
Cornering him at his van, angled so no one could see her, sheâd gone back on her own promise.Â
âDoes that offer still stand?â
Of course it did, and she was sure he could draw a map from memory of her room by now. Eddie was fun because he was nice and because he was different but she could see the pit just in front of her now. How easy itâd be to say fuck it and walk him out in public in front of everyone. Show him off to all her teammates and turn her nose up at anyone who scoffed. Take a swan dive right into the dark depths of that chasm. Eddie was nice and he was good, and he was very nice and very good to her. He could be her little trailer park boyfriend and when she would inevitably ship off to Barnard next year she could drag him with her to New York and then!
And then? What? That pit again. Eddie was good and nice but he was what, a drug dealer? A failing senior? A trailer park kid with a dad in jail and a dead mom? Eddie was a pit.Â
Markâs mom was a librarian downtown and his dad was a property lawyer for Harrington Development. He lived in Loch Nora, two streets from her own home. He didnât even smoke weed, thatâs how committed he was to basketball and making varsity. He was gonna go to Purdue and be a Boilermaker.Â
Gwen stops short when the table comes into view and she sees the back of your head, dark locks spilling onto the splintered wood.Â
âOh.â It falls from her mouth before she can really think and you spin around, eyes wide and cigarette hanging from your lips.Â
âHey! Uh are you-â
âDid Eddie send you?â Gwenâs gripping the straps on her backpack in an attempt to stop her stomach from plummeting. Did he send you out here toâŠto what? Beat her up? Sheâs heard about your temper and how short your fuse is and-
âWhat? No, this is my free period I just snuck out to smoke.â Youâre up now, holding the cigarette in front of you as evidence. Gwen unwinds a little. âI didnât know you two were meeting out here, sorry. Iâll make myself scarce.â You shoot her a tight smile and go to grab your stuff, ready to head back the way she just came.Â
âWait, please?âÂ
You pause, eyebrows raised in question.Â
âCan IâŠask you something? Or talk?â She doesnât even know what she wants to say to you. Gwenâs interactions with you have been third party through Eddie and sheâs gotten the vibe that she wasnât quiet popular with you or the rest of the gang.Â
âSure.â
âYou and Eddie arenât like-âÂ
âIâm gonna stop you right there.â You hold a hand up to her. You look annoyed and now sheâs starting to feel it too.Â
âIâm just asking.â
âI know, and Iâm telling you. Weâre not an item, never have been. Just friends.â Youâve shifted back to sitting, this time facing her, leaned forward on your arms. Gwen keeps watching the cherry on the cigarette your fiddling with between your clasped hands like itâs keeping her focused. âI get what it looks like but he doesnât-we donât feel that way about each other.â Her eyes snap up to yours and she swears she can see a hint of panic in the crease of your forehead.Â
He doesnât he doesnât he doesnât.Â
Gwen nods lightly and makes for the opposite bench. A long sigh escapes when she sits down before looking up at you again.Â
âI know you donât really like me.â
âI never said-â
âLet me finish. I know Eddieâs canceled some plans with you guys because of us and that isnât going to win me any favors. I also know yâall arenât stupid. You know what this is. Iâm not part of your little group of misfits. Heâs your friend first, I get it, and Iâm notâŠIâm not his girlfriend,â another big sigh and she shakes her head to clear it, âand I-I donât want to be.âÂ
Oof.Â
The silence sticks like the snow clinging to the roots around the trees out here. Gwen is still looking at you, looking for a response. Anger maybe, on behalf of your friend whoâs being used. Sadness or jealousy even, over something youâll never have with him. What sheâs not expecting is the loud laugh you bark out. Loud enough to startle a bird out of the tree near you two. You take a long drag and rub a hand over your eyes.Â
âListen, Gwen. I donât hate you, but you donât belong here.â You gesture at the space between the two of you. âThat little confession isnât news, did you think Eddie was trying to go steady with you?â Thereâs no cruelty in your voice and that stuns her more than if there was.Â
âI-I mean-â
âSorry I know how that sounds, but Eddie? This isnât his first time playing this game with your type. You guys fool around for a while and then you dump him when prom rolls around, or some jock finally notices you and takes you on a real date.â Itâs so matter of fact, like youâd read her mind on the walk over.Â
Am I that transparent?
âI mean, heâs like king of the nerds around here and still pulling cheerleaders. Do you really think he cares about having to also take you on a date?â Okay that one was a little harsh, Gwen can feel the teeth sinking in to bite.Â
âHe did ask me out, that first time.â She snaps.Â
He did ask me out.Â
âI donât doubt that. He still hasnât learned his lesson from Francesca. You donât date cheerleaders if you donât have a Letter.âÂ
Fran had been one of the girls whoâd told Gwen about Eddie, albeit a little cruelly.Â
âI took his virginity, your welcome.â Sheâd giggled at Gwen over her lunch, swatting playfully at her hand. âHeâs a lot of fun, but he gets all googly-eyed if youâre too nice to him. Gets it in his head he has a chance.â The group had laughed and Gwen had felt a little cold.Â
âI wasnât trying to hurt him.â
You stub out your cig in front of you and neatly avoid her gaze.Â
âI didnât think you were. ItâsâŠlook, youâre breaking it off right?â
She nods.Â
âBetter offer?â
Gwen wishes you wouldnât say it like that. Thereâs no pretense anymore though.Â
âYeah.â
You hum and nod a few times and cast a look over her shoulder, past her into the woods.Â
âIs he nice?â
Gwenâs taken aback again. Why would you care?
âI think so. His nameâs Mark. I donât know if you know him, but he plays basketball and heâsâŠ.the JVâŠâ Sheâs trying to keep the quiet at bay but just trails off softly. Feels stupid for talking.Â
You pick at the table, face screwed up in thought. Youâre quiet for a little too long and it has her looking around, wondering if Eddie even got the note.Â
âI donât hate you Gwen, Iâm justâŠjealous?â That brings her head snapping back around and you wave her off with an air of avoidance. âDonât read into that. Iâm glad you found your basketball prince or whatever just, donât be mean to Eddie.â
âI wonât.â She means it, she was just going to be truthful.Â
Thereâs a beat before you slap the table and stand up. âOkay, Iâm gonna get the fuck out of here because I donât really need to see that in person. Try not to ruin his whole day, yeah?â Youâve already gathered your bag and started towards the trail back to the baseball field. All Gwen can do is nod, the nerves seeping back in with the cold thatâs climbing up her legs.Â
Ahead of you thereâs the shuffling of dragging feet through gravel and the familiar huff of someone who never runs the mile in gym. Eddie sees you first though, coming to a stop a few feet ahead of you.Â
âHey trouble, what are you doing out here?â His face is screwed up in confusion, wondering if heâs misunderstood who the note was from when he sees your face pull into a tight frown.Â
âDitching the library but I ran into your girl.â
âSheâs not my girl.â Too quick to respond and he sees you chuckle.Â
âYeah not for long man.â He wouldnât say itâs glee written across your face, but there isnât any regret there thatâs for sure.Â
âThe hell does that mean?â Eddie has an idea, had a feeling in the pit of his stomach this morning when he woke up. Heâd planned on telling Gwen it was over by Friday, but it looks like sheâs beat him to it. Thereâs a small sympathetic smile on your lips and you cross the space between the two of you to clap a hand on his shoulder.Â
âJust let me know if you need to drink about it later.â
He nods and rolls his eyes, a big sigh working itâs way out of his chest. The knot thatâd been sitting heavy loosens a little under the warmth of your fingers.Â
He wants to walk back up to the school with you, leave this sphere of guilt out in the woods where he can forget it. He could just slide your hand off his shoulder and link it with his to drag you back up the trail and the two of you donât even need to go back to class. Itâs cold out, but he still has blankets in the back of his van and he can think of a few ways to keep you two warm.Â
Another nod, this one final and he steps around you to go find Gwen out in the clearing.Â
You donât see him again until lunch when you rush him. So engrossed with whatever Gareth is telling him he doesnât hear the squeak of your converse barreling up beside to tackle him into the wall.Â
âJesus Christ!â Eddieâs elbow comes down in the middle of your shoulders and you just laugh. Bent over and smushed up into his ribs you get a face full of leather and clean laundry. Gareth jumps away to avoid his flailing but heâs laughing. Everyone else around you seems unimpressed with the display. You give him a big squeeze before letting go.Â
âOh unclench.â You say to a passing group, all holding on to their lunch trays like your gonna slap them on the floor.Â
âYou coulda broken my ribs.â Eddie is rubbing his side, mock hurt pulling at his features.Â
âYou have flipped me clean over your shoulder and Iâm fine! Youâll live.â You see Garethâs eyebrows raising and before he can open his mouth you shove his face away, eliciting another laugh from him.Â
âDonât be a pervert.âÂ
Eddie is uncharacteristically quiet during lunch, both Gareth and you keeping an eye on him. He told you two the gist of it, his little woodland meeting.Â
âShe told me about Mark.â He sticks his tongue out. âI should have know, prom is right around the corner.â Heâs creeping in on himself, shoulders pulling down. âItâs whatever. I was getting bored anyways.â
The way he says it sits weird with you.Â
âBored with sex?â Youâre trying to lighten the mood. Gareth laughs into his pudding cup and heâs just full of giggles today it would seem. Eddie kicks him under the table.Â
âNo, thatâs not what I said.â Eddie is blushing now, floundering for his next words. You keep looking at him and it keeps making him stumble and blush more and mission accomplished.Â
âWhat, were you gonna break up with her?â Gareth asks like itâs the dumbest thing in the world. Yeah, why would he break up with the hot cheerleader?
When he doesnât answer or look up from his chips, Gareth drops the sarcasm.Â
âOh shit you were.âÂ
Eddie does shoot him a look then, a silent âshut upâ if you ever saw one.Â
You keep it to yourself, but thereâs a warmth that grows up the inside of you with the knowledge that heâd made the decision this time before it was made for him.Â
The crumpled up paper all over his floor is a testament to his stupidity. At least he thinks so because why god why is it so hard to write a letter to someone. Heâs tried every iteration of âIâm obsessed with you, will you please kiss meâ. Some of them had turned into half ramblings about some dream heâd had and heâs absolutely not giving you some R rated fantasy to try to win you over.Â
(The thought keeps crossing his mind though.)
In desperation heâd even thought about trying to write out some kind of solo player campaign that involved a maze and a riddle. Heâd been halfway to writing it, stressed and sleep deprived when he realized how long itâd take and this was supposed to be a love letter for fucks sake. Â
He hadnât given himself a timeline really, had just been thinking in afters. After he called it off with Gwen. After he wrote you an epic poem. After he got his head out of his ass.Â
But one of the afters, the most important really, had kind of happened out of step and it left him adrift.Â
When would he tell you? He couldnât let this go on much longer, heâd run out of little trinkets to steal from you. Heâd collapse in on himself if he had to suppress any urge around you much longer. He figures two weeks off of school would give him time to clear his head. Get to the new year. Hell, maybe even make his and yours New Years Eve a nice memorable one for once.
With one after out of the way he thinks maybe he doesnât need the others.Â
MaybeâŠmaybe it didnât need to be a letter. He could just tell you. Just lay himself out, heart on his sleeve.Â
(Head would be firmly out of ass too.)Â
Even if you said no he knows you wouldnât be cruel, not to him.Â
What if she doesnât want to be friends anymore?
No. No he wonât let that happen because heâs so good at pretending. Pretending everything is fine and pretending heâs okay and that nothing is going wrong ever for him. Pretending that heâd be over you in an instant.Â
Sheâs gonna see right through that, genius.Â
Okay new thought.Â
You say yes. Of course youâd say yes, itâs Eddie! Youâre already up each others asses enough everyone thinks your dating anyways. Youâre comfortable around each other, you share secrets like you share food and drinks (and that lollipop that one time.) Thereâs no one else heâd rather hang out with normally, except maybe Gareth but heâs never wanted to pin him up against a wall and kiss him till he canât breathe.Â
Heâs pacing his room, small little lazy circles in the cramped space, chewing on a hangnail on his thumb. Heâs lost in thought enough that he almost misses the phone ringing and he bounds down the hallway to the kitchen.Â
âHello?â
âTook you long enough. What, were you jerkinâ off? Too busy to answer me?â You joke around a mouthful of something. Eddie can hear the clink of a spoon in a bowl from your end.Â
âHa ha.â
âSeriously, what are you up to?â You cut to the chase. Itâs Thursday so both Wayne and your mom are working overnight and Eddieâs brain starts working overtime. Could just tell you tonight, force his own hand and spill his guts. Could be a Christmas miracle instead, one thing going his way for once.Â
âNothing special. Wanna come over and waste a perfectly good evening?â
âI thought youâd never ask.â
20 minutes later he hears you outside, coming up the steps and before you can knock he swings the door open.Â
âThanks for dressing up.â He smirks, looking you up and down. Ratty jeans under oversized hoodie under secondhand peacoat. You scoff hard, one of his favorite sounds you make.Â
âOh fuck you Munson. I bring you booze and you critique my attire?â You half pull out a bottle from the folds of you coat to show him. âLike youâve got any room to talk.â
âMy apologies, I didnât know we were partying.â His hand slaps against his chest and you push him out of the way, smiling as you filter into the trailer. The bottle goes on the kitchen counter and you toss your coat over the back of the recliner.Â
âI figure we could skip tomorrow. Last day before break, you know we arenât doing shit. Also I figured you could use a drink or three.â Youâre busying yourself in the kitchen, finding glasses and grabbing a soda out of his fridge. Eddie hasnât said anything because heâs realizing a fatal flaw in his plan, where if he tells you how he feels then youâll know how he feels. Having you in the same room as his thoughts makes it evident that he needs to figure his shit out.Â
âI told you Iâm fine.â
âI know, but getting dumped for Mark the Hoop King canât feel great.â
âI mean, honestly I wasnât that invested.â He shrugs, coming over to lean on the outside of the counter and watching you crack open the fifth of jack you definitely stole from your mom. You shoot him a doubtful look under the cabinets. He feels like he might start vibrating if he keeps thinking about telling you anything ever.Â
âIf you say so.â The glass you push towards him is more liquor than soda and Eddie grimaces before even taking a sip. Knows itâll burn. Knows itâll loosen his tongue. He downs half before he can talk himself out of it. You cheers the air in front of you and follow suit, sucking your teeth when the glass hits the countertop.Â
âWhat are we watching tonight?â The strain on your voice makes him chuckle, your own drink working against you.Â
âI got The Dead Zone if you want to watch something horror, and I also snagged the last copy of Year Without a Santa Claus because I know you canât get enough of the snow miser.âÂ
You let out a gasp and clap your hands together, gathering up your glass and shimmying over to the couch. You look at him expectantly where heâs still leaned up against the counter and gesture at the tv set.Â
âWell come on! Santaâs not gonna get fat without us.âÂ
Eddie gives you another smile and heads to his room to grab the cassettes off of his dresser. On his way back into the living room he sees you pulling your feet up onto the cushion, adjusting around until youâre comfortable.Â
Down deep he lets himself have a moment.Â
He can pretend when he sits down next you he could snake his arm around you and pull you close. Smush his nose into your hair while some claymation character sings about the joy of the season.Â
Instead he grabs the bottle from the kitchen after getting the tape set up and drops down on the opposite side of you. Swings his legs up to shove his socked feet under your calf. You laugh through your nose and settle into the couch further and he supposes this is good too.Â
When the credits roll the both of you are tipsy, more so you since youâd taken Eddie up on his game. Any time you felt the need to recite along with the movie, heâd pour a little more into your glass, effectively turning it all into whiskey. He took a few swigs in solidarity with you but he was finding your rosy cheeks and giggles a little distracting, loosing count of how many sips behind he was.Â
âLaugh at me all you want, I love Rankin and Bass. Thereâs an Easter one Iâm gonna make you watch in April.â Youâve stretched out alongside Eddie, feet wiggling beside his shoulder while you nurse the half full cup clasped between your hands.Â
âYouâre not gonna make me do shit.â His laugh rumbles quiet in his chest. He sounds a little buzzed, voice deeper from the drinks. His own feet are stuffed behind your back and he moves them around, jostling you lightly. You laugh and tell him to stop, slapping his knee.Â
âIâm gonna spill my drink!âÂ
He does it again and you dip your fingers into your cup and flick the liquid at him.Â
âThatâs low!âÂ
âStop kicking me!â
He sits up and leans forward, hands reaching for your glass and you try to pull it away but he hooks a finger on the rim.Â
âEd-!â and tips it forward right into his lap. Neither of you jump to move out of the way, accepting the sticky fate right off. The hand youâve slapped over your mouth is doing nothing to hide the laugh thatâs shaking your shoulders. Eddie stares down at this lap and then back up to you which seems to send you into a harder fit of giggles.Â
âHere let me-â
âI just need to move my legs-â Itâs a scramble to get off the couch before anything sinks too deep into the cushion. You can see Eddie trying to hold back laughter himself but refusing to break a smile in front of you. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room with his hands out to his side and you just canât seem to stop laughing at his awkwardness.Â
âOkay. Iâm gonna go change, try not to make any more messes while Iâm gone?â
âMe?!â
Heâd shuffled around his room before heading into the bathroom and youâd taken the opportunity to switch the movie out. Standing in front of the tv waiting for the credits to roll you notice a wet patch on your hoodie thatâs soaked through to your shirt. âAh, Eddie what the shit.â Wobbling slightly down the hallway to his room to root around for a t-shirt that would fit, you hear the shower kick on.Â
It makes you pause, the haze of liquor whispering at you to lean forward. Press your ear up against the door lightly. Thereâs shuffling and a small bump followed by Eddieâs quiet cursing. The shower curtain pulling open and closed. The heavy thud of your heartbeat in your ear. You trail a finger down the door, hand hovering near the handle before you startle and pull your hand back.Â
What are you doing?
Getting a shirt. Yeah. A head shake to get your brain right, you arenât even drunk what are you doing?
You shut the bedroom door behind you and strip off your sweatshirt and top, pulling open the bottom drawer of his dresser where all his shirts are shoved in haphazardly.Â
âHow do you find anything in here.â Mumbling while shuffling through all his shit, you find a faded out ren fair shirt and when you stand up a glint of metal catches your eye. His little secret drawer he was gatekeeping his weed in is ajar and just inside isâŠyour zippo? Youâd thought youâd just left it at home this morning but now itâs here.Â
You shove the shirt on and open the drawer completely to see, yep, your silver VFW zippo slide fully into view.Â
Along with an assortment of things.Â
Frowning, you sift through some smaller hair clips that you swore youâd lost at school or in the chaos of your car. Thereâs two eyeliner pencils that youâve replaced twice now. A lipstick youâd bitched about misplacing.Â
And your tiefling minifig.Â
Eddie had been adamant you hadnât left it at his or Hellfire. Had said he hadnât seen the little purple figure youâd spent a few hours painting delicately.Â
What the fuck.Â
You wrench the drawer open all the way and and see a handful of picks and two rings you reallythought youâd lost in the mayhem of the locker room after gym. Some folded up notes youâve passed him in classes. Thereâs fabric bunched up at the back that you shake out. Itâs the Dead Kennedys shirt youâve been missing for months.Â
What the fuck Eddie.Â
You pick up the little wooden box, expecting to find more of your shit in it but itâs whatâs underneath that catches your attention.Â
You only pause for a moment, an upside down polaroid could be anything, or anyone really, but you donât care right now because he has a drawer of your shit and-
The edges are worn a little like itâs been handled frequently, a corner of the white tab bent just a little.Â
The wooden box is clutched against your chest, knuckles white with the tightness of your fist holding it to you.Â
Youâve never seen this photo. Youâve got an idea of when it was taken, youâve only dressed up like Elvira the one time.Â
Your eyes are roaming the photo, looking forâŠwhat? Your hand in the bottom of the photo keeps snagging your attention. Dark nails dug into dark denim.Â
Is this how he saw you? Thereâs an itch at the base of your skull that feels like fire and your mind rolls in it. Maybe you werenât crazy after all, pining after Eddie Munson. Your stomach does a somersault at the notion.Â
The trailer is quiet around you, some truck going by outside but otherwise nothing. The creak of the hinges being flexed under your hand where youâre blanking out in the quiet.Â
You donât hear the bathroom door open or Eddie wandering out to living room to see you gone.Â
Mind going a mile a minute piecing the puzzle together.Â
This was last year, so heâs had this for a whole year and then a drawer full of shit he said he hadnât seen and my zippo that I just talked about this morning did he take it out of my pocket-
âI see how it is, you snoop while Iâm in the shower.â Eddieâs voice is a clear cut through the tornado sirens going off in your mind. The door opens behind you and you see him in the mirror toweling off his hair.Â
âI keep telling you youâre gonna find-â Heâs dropped the towel and pushed his hair out of his eyes to see your back to him, watching him in the reflection of his mirror. His eyes flick down to the top of his dresser where the contents of the drawer are sprawled out. Panic blooms over his face when his eyes find yours again and he notices your hands in the mirror, clutching the box and-
Oh my god no.Â
He thinks his heart has ceased beating, might even have brain leaking out of his ears. He watches you turn around, sees your eyebrows drawn together. He canât tell if youâre angry or worried or scared? Maybe all three. Holds his breath till you say something because he hadnât thought about this outcome. Had thought heâd been good about keeping it hidden, his stupid fucking crush on you. Tucked under boxes of weed or in pages of books. Under a mattress. In a breast pocket.Â
Eddie can hear the deep breaths youâre taking and he wonders how youâre finding oxygen in this room.Â
Your voice is quiet when your eyes search his, holding up the picture.Â
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Summary: During a hazy afternoon y'all get a little lost in your heads. Eddie tells you a really funny joke.
A/N: Jesus christ this got away from me. I've had this open for two weeks (???) just chipping away and rewriting and deleting everything. I need it off my phone. I'm so sick of looking at it! I really hope you guys enjoy it! This one gets a little spicy? Nothing crazy, just some daydreaming and just All of The Pining Imaginable. I'm not sick of these two being oblivious yet, so strap in friends. (AlsoAlso, just tossing this out there this is 18+, and will just get worse as it goes on so like don't interact if your a lil baby please) Y'all wanna see the gif again?
Friday afternoons were very specifically You and Eddie hangout hours. Typically quiet, never boring, it now usually started with a blunt since someone (you) had broken someone elseâs ( Eddieâs) bong. It had truly been an honest mistake and while Eddie held no grudges, he did miss watching you pull on the thick smoke, so many thoughts rushing at him in those few precious seconds. Youâd cough, eyes watering and heâd wonder if youâd make the same sounds with him buried in your mouth.
Slow your roll, cowboy.
Itâd been maybe an hour since you kicked his bedroom door in, a McDonaldâs bag held in either hand.
âOh my queen, is that what I think it is?â
âLiterally six large fries dude.â
You toss one bag at him where heâs laying on his bed, and beeline for his dresser to drop your stuff. You glance up at his first love while you shuck your jacket off and heâs obviously watching you because he playfully says âGo on, give her a kiss. You know you want to.â
Looking over, youâre 100 percent right. Fries sticking out his mouth, heâs got that shit eating grin plastered on his face, his dimples deep and soft and you just want to grab him there with your thumb and middle finger pressed in and push him back into his pillow.
âIâm not kissing your guitar.â You say flatly.
You on the other handâŠ
He pouts at you while you start digging around the top drawer, looking for the party supplies.
âYou know, I wouldnât go all haphazard in my drawers like that if I were you.â
âWhat, afraid Iâm gonna find something dirty again?â You throw that over your shoulder while you search for the pre roll you know should be in there.
âHa ha haâ, Eddie mock laughs, getting up from the bed to open a different drawer in the dresser. âI moved it, made more sense over here.â He pulls out a small wooden box and closes the drawer quick. You quirk an eyebrow at him and dart your eyes between him and the drawer his hand is still on. He just smiles easy and shakes the wooden box at you.
âOh look at you, a whole box now? What, loose weed in your socks not your thing anymore?â You tease him and pluck it out of his hands to dig through it.
âAha!â, the blunt you had so lovingly rolled on Wednesday in his van, parked outside of your own trailer before you went in for the night. Made like a pinkie promise for Friday afternoon, heâd taken it with a bow of his head; a knight receiving the fair ladyâs favor.
âIâll guard it with my life.â He meant it too.
Eddie had watched you, completely enraptured, run the tip of your pink tongue along a seam of the blunt, the smallest glint of metal peaking out of your mouth. He had tried being as sly as he could be, but he was sure heâd been actively panting by the time you handed it to him. This little fucking thing clutched in his hand had seen more action from you than he ever would. For that, it stayed in his possession.
âYou better, thatâs the last of that bag.â Youâd held the empty ziplock up when you got out of the van, shrugging at him. Eddie promised to pick up only the best from Rick before Friday, so you dug forty bucks out of your wallet for him.
Heâd long ago stopped arguing with you about paying since you were the one with an actual job. The bookstore downtown took up three of your afternoons normally, which is why Friday Fundays were created. If Hellfire wasnât meeting and he didnât have band practice, heâd sometimes bum around bothering you and your few coworkers.
They had all taken a liking to Eddie, firstly because he was pretty well read, and could quote Tolkien at them fast as lighting. Most of the older women you worked with were just as easily charmed by his big dimpled smile and his abundance of âmaâamâsâ.
Secondly, he was typically quiet but always respectful so because of this, every single one of them had asked you on multiple occasions if you two had started dating yet. Always prefaced with a big sigh, youâd tell them âWhy no, of course not, he is actually just my friend.â It would always end with them tittering and smiling, talking about how boys were never friends with girls like that when they were younger.
âGeorgia, itâs 1983, times do change.â Youâd reminded your coworker one evening while you both watched Eddie rifling through books on a bottom shelf. Georgia had leveled a look at you and said, âI think after 62 years, Iâd see when a boy likes a girl.â Youâd wanted to remind Georgia of her coke bottle glasses but kept that one to yourself.
Eddie didnât like you, not like that. You were positive. The two of you had come together as friends, nothing more. It wasnât his fault youâd turned 16 and suddenly became aware of his dimples when he smiled at you, or how big his hands were when heâd grab at you when the two of you roughhoused. Youâd kept this attraction on complete lockdown for two years and you werenât about to let Georgia from the bookstore pry it out of you.
Firstly, and Most Importantly, he was your pit buddy. Very early on in the friendship, still both 15 and fresh faced and trying desperately to get into local shows, youâd realized you were both pretty hardy individuals. After saving Eddie from a beating by a Senior boy and then the next week starting a fight over one of the first uses of âFreakâ towards him, itâd given both of you an idea of what you could handle.
And it was glorious.
Youâd only ever had girlfriends before meeting Eddie and while you did genuinely like doing the girly things, no one ever wanted to do the tomboy things with you. Now though you suddenly had someone who wasnât afraid of getting into it with you, especially in the middle of a crowd of moving bodies. The first show had been some local band playing just outside of Hawkins, they were metal-ish and loud and fast and it was everything Eddie had promised itâd be. The two of you had spent the hour after the show waiting for your mom and wrestling in the grass next to the venue, taking turns throwing each other on the ground. That night had been the most fun youâd had in a long time and by the time you both climbed into the back of your momâs station wagon you were breathless and covered in grass and laughing.
Your mom dropped Eddie off with Wayne, apologizing for the dirt child she was leaving on his doorstep.
âI have no idea what happened in an hour.â Sheâd kind of laughed, and Wayne waved her off telling her Eddie had come home looking worse.
âTell Ms. Helen thank you.â Wayne said, herding him inside while Eddie yelled out goodbyes and thank youâs. On the short ride to your trailer on the backend of the park, your mom had tried to grill you for information about Eddie. You were honest with her, that the grass and dirt was from play fighting and the few cuts on your knees were from going nuts during the concert. Obviously she was concerned, but she admitted to you before turning the car off,
âIâm just happy youâre making friends hun, thatâs all I want.â
~
Holed up in Eddieâs room, the window cracked just barely to help circulate air and keep as much warm in, you take your normal position on the floor, leaned up against the bed. His head is hanging off the edge while he tries to blow smoke rings.
He waves the blunt in front your face and you wave him off while you dig through your book bag to find your D&D notes. Diamond Head is on low in the background and you hum along while you look for the scribbles youâd jotted down during lunch earlier.
âWhat tragic character have you created now?â His voice is deep from the smoke and the angle he has his head tilted at. You donât even chance a glance sideways, just clench your jaw and flex your toes in your shoes.
âNo one new, I was thinking of some like, extra story for my cleric.â
âOh Christ, not the corn god again.â
âYes the corn god, all praise Helio.â You say it with no emotion but hold your hands up in praise above you. Eddie rolls his eyes and copies you, muttering âPraise Helioâ under his breath.
The two of you fall into quiet conversation, passing the blunt back and forth until itâs hard to pinch, stubbed out in the ashtray next to your leg.
Honestly you thought Eddie had fallen asleep with how quiet he was so youâd shifted away from the bed to lay next to it on the floor. Engrossed in notes from one of Eddieâs DM binders (and a good steady high), you donât notice him slowly moving to keep you in his line of sight. He had been close to sleep but you shifting had stirred up your perfume from your hair and pulled him from his daze. Something sweet and deep that hung around his room long after youâd left.
He had only recently really admitted to himself just how head over heels he was for you so this attention he was leveling at you was still surprising to him. In fact, heâd picked up a new little habit: small things of yours that just happened to find their way into his pocket. Stuff youâd never really miss but little things that made him think of you. Hair clips that he actually used sometimes. A few chapsticks and one of your eyeliner pencils, a guitar pick youâd use when messing with his acoustic and a minifig that he knew you were looking for but it wasnât important to this campaign so it didnât matter right now. If a t-shirt of yours found its way in there it was none of his business.
Under the assorted stolen tchotchkes was a single Polaroid he kept tucked deep in the drawer under the little cigar box heâd handed over to you earlier.
That lived face down in the drawer lest you almost accidentally ever see it again. Heâs not a pervert (Donât lie to yourself Munson) but this was an accidental photo taken at an opportune time. Halloween the year before and you had shown up to his trailer in an Elvira getup that had Eddie clutching the counter to stay upright. Complete with black wig and tits out to the universe he was sure heâd never seen so much of you on display. Standing in the doorway youâd had to call his name a few times before he invited you in, Eddie stuck in a staring contest with your chest. Youâd done a little half turn for him once inside where he all but vomited compliments at you over your painfully accurate costume. If he followed you around like a dog all night, it was only to make sure he was somehow marking you as untouchable to everyone else.
This was just one of the rich kids parties so Eddie was there to sell and you had tagged along for an excuse to dress up. Normally Eddie would plant himself in his van for an hour or two and then head home but you seemed to be enjoying the party, even though you barely left his side. He never actually partied with this crowd of rich assholes but the combination of you, beer, and everyone being moderately decent to him all night lent to him letting his guard down. By the time midnight had rolled around the two of you were a drunk giggling mess, looking everywhere for the wig you had eventually torn off in the heat of the house.
The morning had snuck up on you though, both of you jolted awake by an errant ray of light seeping through the blinds in the strange living room. You found your shoes by the front door and you two snuck out to Eddieâs van and headed home.
It wasnât until he was sat outside his own trailer, smoking before heading in, that he found the Polaroid in the breast pocket of his jacket. Eddie had found a camera at some point, he can vaguely remember that. And he had taken this crooked photo of you, legs stretched out and propped up in front of you with the slit of your dress hiked up around your hip. Your head thrown back against the couch while a cigarette hung out of the corner of your mouth. The long line of your neck mapping a trail down to the deep cut neckline and just cleavage for days. Eddie stares and stares for so long before he notices in the bottom corner of the photo, your hand resting on his thigh, painted black nails digging into the dark denim.
It takes his forgotten cigarette burning down to the filter and burning his finger to snap him out of his lust daze.
That photo had lived beside his bed for a good while, serving as a bookmark in many things. (Which is how youâd almost found it one afternoon in his copy of Salemâs Lot.)
Heâd stare at it before bed, imagining whatever scenario he could that involved you crawling over that couch and devouring him. Your lips painted dark red, leaving marks all over his neck and you hair, curled and soft from being pinned up all night dragging over his shoulder. Heâd never been with a girl that had really taken her time with him but he imagined you would. He knew how soft your hands were, could imagine what theyâd feel like dragging down his ribs over his stomach, tugging at his belt. Youâd push his shirt up while pulling his jeans down and look up at him with that glint in your eye, the one youâd get before you really threw yourself fully into something.
Sometimes this would be the softest imagined scenario all quiet moans and gentle kisses, you handling him so carefully. Featherlight touches down his thighs, your hands soft around him while you whispered little praises up at him from between his knees. Those were nights where he was feeling especially lovesick (like when you were out on a fabled date). Getting deep into his feelings in the dark, sometimes not even actually jerking off, just thinking of you while he lay in his bed trying to sleep.
The other times though, those times heâd grab you up in front of everyone at that party and find a dark corner of that rich kids kitchen. Heâd walk you backwards, up against a wall and cage you in with his body, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other ghosting down your side to grab at your hip. Without shoes on your only a few inches shorter than him, but youâd still have to look up at him from under your lashes. Your hands would wrap up the sides of his face and wind in his hair and youâd pull him down to you, lips soft and warm. Heâd hook a finger in the neckline of your dress to try and get your tits out and he just knew theyâd fit so perfect in his hands. Youâd mewl at him and make all the little noises he could imagine you might make when he runs his fingers over the lace of your bra. Heâd smirk at you while you pulled at his neck, trying to get him closer, pulling your body flush up against his. Slot your leg between his and grind up on him to feel the hard length of him against your thigh.
It didnât take much for him to picture you bent over a bathroom vanity, hands braced on the sink in front of you and crying for him. His hand fisted in the velvet of your dress and pushing it up to your waist so he could watch himself bury his cock in you while you whined and moaned for him to not stop, never stop, keep going your gonna make me cum-
The shuffling of paper brings him back down into his room. Remembers that you are also in his room and he has to keep his fucking imagination in check because you can clearly see the raging hard on he has from your place on the floor. Only if you looked over that is, just a turn of your head and you could see him straining against his jeans-
He mentally slaps himself back in place and takes a deep breath to try to focus on something literally anything that isnât you and your tits and your thighs and your breathingâŠ
From your position on the floor you can see Eddie lying face up on his bed, eyes closed, fingers tapping on his chest along with the drum beat. The notes youâve been looking at are held at such an angle that youâre actually just peering at him like a little creep over the top. Watching his fingers tap, watching his chest rise and fall, watching his face scrunch up when he hears the bass really kick in. Itâs lulling you into a stasis of sorts; youâve been good and toasty for a bit now, the two of you no longer essentially hotboxing his room. The floor was supposed to be grounding you so youâd stop imagining things like climbing up on the bed with him. Would he even open his eyes or would he just smile?
Assume you were trying to get comfortable.
You could surprise him. Tangle your hand up in his hair and pull his head back to hold him in place while you attacked his neck, leaving little red marks up and down the column of his throat. Maybe heâd laugh, all breath and a little gasping, the vibrations making you smile against him. You could move your way up to his mouth and heâd taste just like youâd imagined a hundred times before. Tobacco and weed and a little salty from the fries heâd been eating earlier.
This is not the first, nor will it be the last time, that you sit and wonder what secrets that mouth beholds.
You are slowly spinning out on the floor of his room, your mind goingâŠwell, more like an inch a minute rather than a mile. Eddieâs notes long forgotten next to you in the carpet, youâre just about to drift off into your daydream about his fingers tap tap tapping down your sternum when he clears his throat and turns his head to look at you, says something you donât catch.
âWhat?â
âI said âcan I ask you something?ââ He repeats himself and rolls over to lean on an elbow. His eyes are fixed on you, a notch between his brows making him look worried.
âWhatâs up?â
âCan I rain check next Friday?â He asks you almost hesitantly. It takes a few seconds for you to catch up before you frown a little yourself.
âAnd postpone the Friday night french fry extravaganza? What, you got a hot date or something?â You think youâre being slick but a blush starts to creep up his neck.
âNo way! Did Gwen change her mind?!â You sit up from the floor to crawl over to the edge of the bed where you prop your chin to grin up at him. Your daydream is left with the notes while you rush into his space, face close to his own. Weed is still hugging your faculties pretty warmly so you donât get a chance to stop your eyes drifting down his face to his lips.
He absolutely does not miss that look, but heâs also dipped pretty deep in this high so he lets it go because this is new. Heâs never seen you look at him like that before; bites his bottom lip because heâs not entirely sure whatâs happening in this moment.
No harm in letting you stare.
No harm in him watching you worry at your own lip.
Please let me bite that for you.
Your eyes finally snap back up to his with a questioning look in them.
Yes yes yes do it first please Iâm too much of a coward.
Time is molasses the way the guitar in the background is molasses and youâre just staring at each other when you huff lightly.
âSoâŠGwen?â
Yeah, Gwen. Whoâs Gwen?
âUh yeah kind of? Nothing like crazy or whatever.â He breaks eye contact with you to stare at his blanket and pick at it. Heâs not even sure why heâs still set on hanging out with her honestly, not with this huge fuckinâ crush heâs got burning for you. That first time heâd asked Gwen it had been with some actual feeling behind it. Itâd only taken her a week to come back after turning him down though, a quiet question on her lips. Cornering him in the parking lot after school sheâd made it a point to get him alone by his van where they were out of eyesight of everyone else. That should have been his first clue that this wouldnât be a real date, but heâd been too caught off guard by the god damn cheer outfit.
âDoes that offer still stand?â Sheâs sweet and a little naive maybe and heâs kind of weak for that so of course it does. Anything to get you off of his mind.
âFor what?â
âGoing out for a bite.â
âI mean sure, if youâre free.â
âOf course silly. Next Friday though.â She giggles and tucks a note with her number into his vest pocket.
He tells you all this, not looking up from his blanket the whole time. He admits that he knows she probably isnât really interested in going out with him but she seems fun and nice and like who cares right?
âYeah, she gets to test out what kind of freak I am and I probably get laid soâŠâ he trails off. Youâre still all up in his space so you can see his eyes darting around his blanket, looking for a distraction. This isnât the first of these kinds of conversations between the two of you and youâve seen that hurt in his eyes before. Itâs not like Eddie is laying waste to all the girls of Hawkins High. Heâs got maybe a solid handful of conquest under his belt, but theyâve all mostly treated him like a big secret. Something they got to do on a weekend or three and then moved on to something better. Something brighter. Something more well rounded and presentable.
âItâs not like sheâs gonna take me home to meet mom.â His laugh is small and hollow when he rolls back over to stare at his ceiling. You pull yourself away from the edge of the bed, the cozy little spell broken.
âListen man, you donât have to go out with her. Just cancel it. Whatâs the worst thatâll happen? She doesnât talk to you anymore?â Youâre trying to break the sad tension with a joke and a gentle punch to his shoulder. He doesnât budge, just sighs real big and continues to stare up at nothing.
Youâre not super worried about this. Either he doesnât hang out with her and you two get to have your normal Friday, or he does and you wait it out like you have with the others.
See, Gwen is an easy obstacle. Sheâs one of the nice cheerleaders, and sheâs a year below you guys but she has no idea what sheâs dipping her toe into. Eddie is a special brand of person and with his ability to talk an ear off, heâs sure to scare her off quickly. Theyâll go out on their date and probably fool around a few times and then sheâs going to comment on Hellfire. Or his band. Or his music. And then Eddie is going to get bored. Heâll remember what itâs like to talk about his interest unhindered with his little group of misfits and heâll come back, acting like nothing ever happened.
Summary: You meet Eddieâs dad. No one is happy about this.
Warnings: Shitty parents!
A/N: This is a little snippet I jotted down while finishing up part five of Rent. Just a little call back and some character exploration. Thereâs a tonal shift here that Iâm not real sure about, but I think I like the direction it went in. This isnât really proofread at all so apologies but this isnât anything I was going to polish up anyways. Also itâs only mentioned once, but Evelyn is referring to Eddieâs mom. AlsoAlso you have the name Candice in this. Itâs not going to show up again anytime soon I just needed a name.
âEdward.â His voice is the same low scratch itâs always been. Deep timber stuck between smoke stained lungs, an adolescence of coal mining on the backend. Itâs funny that cough stuck around, considering he hadnât stayed in that job very long. Stealing things was easier.
âDaniel.â Eddie replies with a tip of his chin. Likes the way his dadâs shoulders scrunch up at his full name.
âBoy, donât start that shit-â Heâs cut off when Wayne puts a hand on his arm.
âDanny.â Just a warning from an older brother. Wayne looks down the steps at Eddie, concern in the small smile he shoots him. âEd, your dad was just telling me about how he got here.â He watched the two of you walk up the road, laughter ringing out. Watched Eddie hitch you higher on his back. Wayneâs heart sinks knowing heâs about to ruin his nephews week.
âBy bus I assume, isnât that how they always drop you off?â Eddieâs defiant and still, hasnât realized youâve slid off his back yet. âDid they drop you off or did you just steal another car?â
Wayne moves first, cuts his brother off and leaves him to angrily suck down his cigarette on the top step. He gets close to Eddie, grabs his shoulder to pull him in. Doesnât like that youâre here to witness this bullshit, it only ever goes south.
âListen son,â he says this quiet. Danny never liked it when Wayne called his boy that. âHe surprised both of us. Make nice for the afternoon and heâll be gone by dinner time. Heâs got a place to stay over in Elwood so he ainât hanging around.â He gives Eddie a good shake to try to get him to look at him. Wayne sees a flash of rage in those brown eyes and for a moment Evelyn is staring at him. He straightens up, hand still clamped on Eddieâs shoulder and looks past him to you.
âListen Dee, why donât you head on home? Your motherâs got the night off right? Might like to see you for supper.â
You nod a bunch at Wayne, thankful for him noticing your dilema. You only get three steps backward before Daniel speaks up.
âWell you donât need to send his friend away. Jesus Christ Wayne, Iâm not gonna bite.â
âDanny, donât turn this into a thing. Sheâs gotta go home. Probably got homework, like this one does.â He pulls Eddie forward a step, feels like heâs pulling an empty box along with him. âThey spend enough time together, we can make introductions later.â They make for the steps and you try to high tail it but Danielâs voice rings out between the trailers.
âDee? Whatâs that short for?â
Now, your mother had taught you manners. How to be respectful to adults and authority though it rarely stuck. This man was neither in your eyes, however you can feel the backslide of nerves kicking in. Grown men asking questions never boded well.
âCandice, sir.â
His mouth pulls down in contemplation, slaps a hand on the metal railing and turns to go inside Wayneâs trailer.
Thereâs quiet before Wayne lets out a deep sigh. âEd?â
Eddie moves quick then. Snatches up his book bag you dropped by his feet when you tried to leave. âI donât fucking care.â He beelines for the front door and Wayne turns to you.
âListen, Iâll call your mama when we get settled. Have her come get you.â You nod again.
âThisâll be fine.â He lies.
- - - -
Borderlines are clearly drawn through the small living room and Wayne is sadly stuck in the middle of it all. Him and Daniel have been talking for the tenses half hour youâve ever witnessed. They make it seem like the conversation is easy but you donât think youâve ever seen Wayne sit so straight in his recliner. Eddie has posted himself against the countertop outside of the kitchen, just out of your reach where youâre seated at the tiny table. Any fidget you made had Eddie looking over his shoulder at you, only to snap his head back when his dad reclined on the sofa.
This is a whole side of Eddie youâve never seen. Both him and Wayne hold the tension like a line between them, but where Wayne lets out a quiet laugh every now and then, Eddie just doubles down on his glare. Daniel makes it a point to ignore his kid for a bit.
Itâs wild how much Eddie resembles his dad. The same nose sloping into full lips; same angled jaw and slightly too big ears. The same crossed arms and wide shoulders. Theyâre even the same height almost.
But thatâs where that ends.
Eddie must have his momâs eyes. Her long curls. Her smile. Because Danielâs blue eyes are flinty and cold blue. His hair short and lighter brown. You havenât seen him actually smile since sitting down even though heâs huffed a laugh or two.
âSo did you just forget to call or what?â Eddie cuts across the conversation. You immediately look down at your feet to try and avoid everyoneâs eyes. Thereâs so much sighing in this small space itâs a wonder thereâs any air left to breathe.
âEdward-â
âItâs Eddie.â
His dad fully turns his body to face him. âEdward,â he enunciates it like Eddie is hard of hearing, âif you opened your ears youâd have heard me say I was trying to surprise you and Wayne.â
âWe donât like surprises.â
âWell I wouldnât know that on account of you never visiting me.â
âWhy would I do that when you just spend thirty minutes behind glass telling me everything wrong with me?â
The quiet is fucking unbearable so you set your glass of water on the table and shoot up, mumbling about needing the bathroom. Thatâs not allowed apparently.
âCandice?â You donât like how Daniel says that. Like heâs testing the name out in his mouth. Eddie is on that immediately, steps in front of you like a shield and oh how youâd love to just crawl into the back of his ribs and burrow and get you both out of this excruciating visit.
âNah, you donât need to ask her anything.â
âWayne, you sure they hang out all the time?â Daniel scoffs and stands, shoves his hands in the pockets of his faded blue jeans. Wayne looks questioning and Eddie takes a step back toward you.
âWell she seems to have some manners, wouldâve thought that mightâve rubbed off on Eddie here.â He sets his shoulders wide when he looks down at Wayne and then over to Eddie playing knight to you. The confidence you get to speak is like a ray of sun peaking through a cloud momentarily. âWell those are questionable on a good day.â Eddie looks over his shoulder at you with cold eyes.
âAt least you have them. Thought my brother would have done a better job than this. Father wouldâve never put up with this.â
Itâs Wayneâs turn to stand. âDanny, itâs been a few years since youâve been in polite company so Iâll let that slide right now. Why donât we let the kids go cool off while you and me have a little chat.â Itâs not a question. Eddie realizes that as soon as the last word leaves Wayneâs mouth. He spins around and grabs your upper arm to pull you with him to his room. Before the door closes you can hear Daniel say something about an âungrateful kidâ and the quiet anger in Wayneâs voice.
- - - -
The room is still with the door closed. Eddie stays leaned against it for a while, taking deep breaths to calm down. He canât believe this is happening. Had no intention of you ever meeting his dad. Had no idea he was even close to getting out. Itâd been such a good day too. Heâd managed two Bâs on two separate test and then youâd agreed to finally let him make you a character sheet for his new campaign. God this was wrong, he wanted to lash out at something but youâre here and he doesnât want to let himself fall into that stupid rage. He can feel the tendrils of black creeping up the back of his head, invading his thoughts, when you let out an exasperated bark of laughter.
âHoly shit dude that was fucking tense!â You whisper yell at him. âI havenât felt that weird since my dad came to visit last Christmas. Shit.â You draw out the middle of that âshitâ and turn around his room once. âI can like, go out the window if you want?â
No. Eddie doesnât want that. If you leave heâs gonna stomp right back down that short hallway and punch his dad in the face. Heâll call the cops and tell Hopper his shitheel dad showed up and punched him first. Get him tossed back in jail for a few days, he doesnât care.
No, Eddie wants to sit on his bed and show you how roll your stats. Wordlessly he walks across to the stack of binders and user guides next to his night stand and pulls out a notebook.
âEddie?â
âCâmere.â He kicks his shoes off and throws his jacket down at the foot of the bed. Throws himself too against the pillows and tucks a leg under himself. When you donât move to the bed he looks up from the notebook, through his hair and stares for a second.
âDude, we donât have to do that right now. I mean, we can do it la-â
âPlease.â Quiet quiet quiet. Eddieâs never quiet and rarely does he use the âpâ word. Everything about today is sitting like a lead weight in your stomach. Heâs pleading for something normal you realize and before you sit you turn his radio on, the low drone drowning out any utterance from the living room.
Twenty minutes later and youâve decided on a purple Teifling fighter named Theodora. Eddie thinks itâs funny how into the horns you are and starts a little basic sketch in the corner of the page heâs writing your stats on. Youâre asking him about the different dice when his dadâs voice cuts through the little dome of warmth you two are under.
âWell heâs my fucking kid Wayne, I know you like to forget that sometimes!â His voice hits Eddie hard and thatâs all it takes for a sob to fall out of him. The tether heâd been hanging on by was thin apparently and he buckles.
âHey, you okay?â Worry slides into your words.
âNo.â His face is buried in his hands and the minor shake of his shoulders tells you the rest. Wordlessly you reach over and pull him to you, head resting on your shoulder and arms going around to squeeze hard. Itâs a few minutes of Eddie sniffling into your shirt while you rub little circles on his back. He canât seem to stop the slow leak of tears and he can feel the shame spreading red hot across his face. Heâs only ever cried like this in front of his uncle and now, you. Heâs never clung to you like a life raft, stuttering in breath and trying to wipe his eyes on his sleeve. Feels foolish but still doesnât let go, needs to have some kind of grounding.
Youâd been sitting next to him when youâd pulled him in and now the position feels like youâre being pretzeled in half. âHey, scoot over.â You whisper and nudge him. He does, unwinds himself to lean back against the wall, props his arms on his raised knees. You spin and sidle up right next to him to fit your shoulder under his, arms wrapped around your knees. âIâm sorry your dad is such a dick.â
Eddie laughs wetly, âYeah well, yours isnât much better.â
âFair. Maybe Iâll take you to Indy and we can just have a repeat of today?â You joke, nudging him. He laughs again and you watch him out of the corner of your eye. Tear tracks cut through his cheeks and you reach over without thinking to wipe them from one side with your fingertips. He just turns his head slightly, quirks an eyebrow and you just shrug.
âIâd tell you to not cry over him but heâs your dad.â Your dad may not be in prison but you get it. Spent enough time hating him to not get it. Still, seeing Eddie not loud and not smiling and not himself has changed your view of him a little. Nothing bad but thereâs depth to him he was keeping hidden, another dimension of his personality that you hope heâll let you into more if for nothing more than to help.
âYou know if you want to talk about itâŠâ
âI know.â Sniffles again and rocks his head back against the wall. âThank you.â
- - - -
His dad leaves before you, evening settling when the roar of an engine pulls up outside. You and Eddie have been laying in bed side by side while he explains your new creation to you when the murmur of voices outside makes him get up to look through his blinds.
âFucking asshole canât seem to make new friends.â He flicks the blinds and settles back onto the bed with his back facing you. You want to reach out and place a hand between his shoulders to let him know itâs okay. Wayne cuts in though and it only annoys you a little when the door swings open and he just looks in. Worn and tired he tells Eddie his dad is gone.
âYeah I saw him leave with Rob.â
âDonât worry about that. Iâm starting dinner okay? Coast is clear now.â He nods at you and you know a cue. Eddie stops you before you leave his room to shove the notebook at you.
âHang on to that, Iâll finish it up tomorrow with you.â
âThank you.â You smile at him before giving him one last hug. Heâs still stiff but he does hug you back, arms squeezing your ribs a little longer than normal. Making your way out of the trailer, past Wayne who gives your shoulder a squeeze, you feel that familiar giddiness again. Try as you might it keeps getting harder to squish down, and as you grip the notebook close you can feel it pushing up around your invisible hands trying to stuff it down.
- - - -
The storm door closes and Eddie wanders out of his room to stand in the kitchen and stare at the side of his uncles head. Wayne knows heâs there obviously, but he finishes browning the ground beef and layering it with the peas in the casserole dish before looking at him.
âEd, Iâm sorry. You know I didnât know about that.â
Eddie nods, throat bobbing when he swallows. âYou donât want him here either.â
âNo I donât.â
âWhat did he actually want?â
Wayne gives him a bullshit answer, something about money and a job. Heâd been asking about custody again, said he had a life set up for himself in Elwood and wanted Eddie to live with him again. That conversation went nowhere and ended with Daniel yelling about âhis boyâ.
Dinner is quiet and Eddie only eats the mashed potatoes off his shepards pie but at least itâs something.
âIf you wanna skip tomorrow itâs fine, Iâll call and tell âem youâre sick or something.â
âNo, I told her Iâd be there tomorrow.â
Wayne nods and silently cleans up dinner. When Eddie hugs him from behind, sliding his skinny arms around Wayneâs shoulders he just pats his hand with his.