Chapter Text
“Hey, grab the chips.”
“You grab the chips, you lazy fuck,” Eddie laughed as he bypassed the kitchen and headed toward the bathroom. “I gotta take a leak.”
“Grab ‘em on your way back!” Gareth shouted as Eddie slammed the door shut behind him.
His living room had been overtaken by a bunch of assholes in band t-shirts, stealing his beer and eating his snacks. After endlessly ragging on him that afternoon at practice for basically being absent the entirety of break, Eddie had invited the guys back to his place for a movie-and-munchies night, though they had yet to break out the weed.
And, alright, here’s the thing. If Chrissy hadn’t been indisposed for the evening, attending a party at Tina Kozinski’s house that had a crude drawing of his face with a big red ‘x’ through the center, he’d probably be busy tonight, as well. Because holy shit, it was Chrissy Cunningham. They’d hung out, like, every goddamn day for an entire week, and Eddie wasn’t about to let some stupid barbs from his friends interrupt the craziest series of drugless hallucinations of his life.
If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she liked him. Which was insane and impossible and fucking bonkers, but goddamn if all the signs weren’t there. Eddie was by no means fluent in the art of women’s body language, but she had taken any opportunity to be as close to him as possible. Turning into him during scary parts of horror movies or resituating herself when they shared snacks so there was almost no space between them. And then, when he’d mentioned he wasn’t welcome at Tina’s house, she almost seemed disappointed.
Taking a moment to himself in the bathroom after finishing his business, Eddie extracted that note from the pocket of his jeans. He’d taken to making sure it was tucked into whatever pair he’d decided to pull on that day, lest he otherwise forgot and Wayne washed it. Completely destroying the evidence that someone either actually, genuinely had a crush on him or had yet to admit to their elaborate prank.
As he and Chrissy grew closer, Eddie was more and more tempted to throw the thing away. Who gave a fuck who wrote it? In a weird, roundabout kinda way, it’d done its job and brought him into Chrissy’s orbit. Solidifying their status as friends, if nothing more. He didn’t need to know who wrote it anymore; he had the one thing he’d convinced himself ages ago he would never get.
Chrissy. In whatever capacity.
And yeah, sure, he probably shouldn’t pursue her. Dragging his feet through Hawkins bullshit and all that. But, but, based on the few microscopic tidbits of information she’d let spill about her mother and her home life, Chrissy had no intention of remaining in Hawkins, either. So maybe they could have, like, a stupid summer fling, then go their separate ways without regret at the end.
Shit, if that was what he got from her? If that was all he got from her? Living in this small-minded, small-peopled town for twenty years might actually have been worth it.
Rereading the note he’d essentially memorized at this point, Eddie’s hands tensed. Intent on crumpling the stupid thing and tossing it in the overfull trash can for the umpteenth time. He didn’t need it, not really. He never had, but especially now. Assuming he had plans with Chrissy tomorrow, that she had no intention of dropping him as soon as school kicked up again in two days, keeping his eyes peeled for some faceless no name in the halls was more and more seeming like a waste of time.
But, even he could admit, it was nice to remind himself that he was wanted. At least by one person. And maybe, possibly, hopefully by Chrissy, too.
Outside the bathroom, the phone rang. Eddie sighed, shouting through the wood to ask one of the guys to answer it as he refolded the familiar lines of the paper and shoved it back into his pocket before turning to wash his hands.
“Hello?” Jeff answered, feet from the door. “Uhh. Who is this?” A pause. A scoff, followed by a sarcastic response. “Yeah, alright. One second.” A loud knock echoed through the tiny bathroom for a half second before Eddie was yanking the door open. Meeting the furrowed brow of Jeff’s confusion as he held the old yellow phone toward him. “Someone claiming to be Chrissy Cunningham is on the phone for you.”
The phone was snatched from Jeff’s grip as Eddie shoved his way past his friend, retreating into the kitchen.
“Chrissy?” Eddie asked, confusion circling the drain of his brain. Behind him, Jeff scoffed again.
“Hi, Eddie,” she greeted, and holy fuck, she sounded so insanely small, even across the radio waves and miles separating them.
“Hey,” he greeted, leaning up against the entry of the kitchen with his back to the guys. “Uh, everything alright? Wasn’t expecting to hear from you tonight.”
There was a soft sigh that ended on a little hiccup, and Chrissy sniffled through the phone. Like she’d— Like she’d been crying or something? He checked his watch, eyes narrowing. It was barely ten-thirty. Still too goddamn early in the night for Chrissy to have experienced something negative enough that she was calling him.
In his opinion, anyway. Not that that accounted for jack shit.
“Um,” she began, her voice even smaller. Like she was retreating into a shell, terrified to emerge long enough to talk to him. “I mean, it’s not— It’s not, like, that big of a deal, I guess. I just… I’m sorry, your friend answered the phone, and I’m inserting myself into your night, and—”
“Hey, no, fuck that,” Eddie interrupted before she could apologize more. Before she could find an excuse to hang up, like Eddie wasn’t ready and willing to have his night interrupted by her. “Listen, these assholes are fine. Just tell me what’s going on, Chrissy. What happened?”
There was a long, pregnant pause. The kind that contained a million and one possibilities. Standing on the precipice, Eddie thought he could fall in any direction. His mind rocketed off after each one, chasing every potential circumstance like a hunting dog catching a whiff of a trail. Was she dumping him? No, they weren’t dating. Did she get into a fight with her friends? Unlikely, as Chrissy was perfection epitomized. Did Tina tell her she couldn’t be there because she’d dumped Carver? Nah, Tina wouldn’t attempt to tarnish her own reputation by denying entrance to the lead cheerleader or whatever.
“Can you just… Can you come get me right now… please?” she finally managed, her tone quavering around the question.
His response was immediate. “Yeah, sweetness, of course.” The pet name hopped its way out of his throat like an eager fucking bunny rabbit, and Eddie couldn’t even find the wherewithal to be embarrassed. Grabbing his keys off the counter, Eddie tucked the phone against his shoulder so he could shove his feet into his shoes. “You still at Tina’s?”
She made a noise of affirmation, her voice somehow cracking with that little sound.
“I’m, um, hiding out in Tina’s bedroom,” she said, “but I have to let Felicia, at least, know I’m leaving. She drove us here.”
“Alright,” he agreed, and suddenly all those questions in his brain were skirting around why she felt the need to hide from the party. “I’ll be right there, yeah? I’m leaving now.”
“Okay,” she replied, her voice hardly a whisper. “Thank you, Eddie.”
“Of course, Chrissy,” he said. “Anything you need.”
Then, after quick goodbyes, they were hanging up, and Eddie turned toward the door. Forgetting entirely that he had a living room full of hooligans, all staring at him with varying degrees of shock on their faces. Grant slowly, exaggeratingly brought a chip up to his mouth, the crunch obnoxiously loud against the quiet of the room. They’d paused the movie to eavesdrop on his conversation, the dicks.
“Alright, well,” Eddie said, taking the two steps to the door and yanking it open. “Time to go, kids. Get out.”
“Hey, Eddie, uh, what the fuck?” Gareth asked, none of them making a move to leave. “Was that— Was that actually Chrissy Cunningham on the phone?”
“Yeah, uh, I mean, elaborate set up, man,” Jeff interjected, snorting. “Paying some girl to call and pretend to be Chrissy while we’re here. Conveniently be in the bathroom when the phone rings. Real funny.”
“Extremely thought out,” Grant added. “Like, I applaud the showmanship. Wait, is this a setup for the end-of-year campaign?”
“In what mental realm of spiraling insanity would that set up for a campaign?”
“Shut up,” Eddie practically hollered before the argument could continue, gesturing angrily toward the door. “This is me telling you guys to get the fuck out so I can go pick up Chrissy from Tina Kozinski’s party.”
All three of them just stared at him. Blinking. Uncomprehending. Like he hadn’t just told Chrissy he was on his way. Or maybe they wanted to make a liar out of him. Who could say? Either way, they needed to get the hell out of his goddamn living room a full two minutes ago.
“Did you suddenly go deaf?” he asked incredulously.
“Yeah, no, we heard you,” Jeff said, crossing his arms and shrugging. “Just, uh. Gonna stay right here ‘til you come back with this alleged cheerleader you’re apparently picking up. Y’know. For proof. Gotta see that shit with my own eyes.” For effect, he wiggled his ass further into the couch cushions. Grant loudly crunched on another potato chip.
Fuming, Eddie threw his hands exasperatedly into the air. He needed to leave more than he needed them gone. “Fine! But when we get back, the three of you better get the hell out and be prepared to deal with the fucking consequences.”
Gareth snorted. “Yeah, alright. We’ll deal.”
Eddie barely heard the sarcastic retort. He was already pushing his way out the screen door, keys splayed. Jamming the door key into his van just as Billy Hargrove stepped out onto his porch to light up a cigarette. He flipped Eddie the bird, as was their primary form of communication, and Eddie flipped it back as he jumped into the van.
Goddamn it. Goddamn his stupid friends, unknowingly playing into his agitation and making his tentative mood worsen immensely. Concern for Chrissy stood sentry at the doorway to his brain, uncaring of the maelstrom of other negative emotions as they whirled and spun just past the threshold. A fucking hurricane of possibilities. He’d just— Even when Carver had tried to corner her at Benny’s, he wasn’t sure she sounded quite so scared.
Fuck.
He was going to hold this against Tina forever. Because he knew, if he had tried to show up, she would’ve sniffed him out and booted him. A lesson he’d learned trying to make an extra buck a couple years back, during her first party. And then, she’d somehow convinced most of the school not to buy from him for almost a month, because she was vindictive as fuck.
Yeah. Pennies had been stretched real thin when that happened. He’d actually considered getting a real job.
Eddie wasn’t about to fuck up his own life like that again, even when Chrissy looked so down when he said he wouldn’t be going. Never, in a million fucking years, had he assumed some nefarious bullshit would fall on her and prompt her to call him before the night even really got started.
Foolishly, he thought she might have fun with her friends. One last hurrah before graduation party season, a month of school rung in with some drinks and dancing or whatever people got up to at Tina’s house. Stupid party games. Hopefully not making out with some ugly jock. And, at the end of it all, he wondered if she might show up at his house, tipsy and waving goodbye to whoever drove her, before confessing that she was into him.
God, he felt like a fucking moron. On so many levels. On every level, in fact.
Riding the waves of his self-flagellation and the memory of Chrissy’s upset all the way to Tina’s house, he wasn’t surprised to see that the party was going strong. Fellow members of the Hawkins High student body lined the porch, taking shots and jeering at one another, as Eddie barricaded the driveway with the van. Hardly having the mental capacity to turn the fucking vehicle off, he launched himself from the cab and bulldozed his way through the throng.
“Nah uh, Munson, get out!” Tina shouted from some undisclosed location as soon as he burst through the open front door. “Unwelcome!”
He located her in the living room off to one side, pointing angrily toward the door he’d just walked through, and bypassed all the bullshit to approach her. She was sitting in a circle of kids with an empty beer bottle in the center, pointing at someone he didn’t care to acknowledge, and Eddie had to physically restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
“Where’s your room?” he asked. Tina, cheeks pink with a buzz, just scoffed at him.
“Not very subtle, y’know,” she replied, rolling her eyes. “What, are you gonna ransack it ‘cause you weren’t invited?”
“Fuck you, Kozinski, I don’t give a shit about this petty feud right now. I’m just looking for Chrissy.”
At that, Tina blinked. The disbelief and annoyance in her face bled away some, and she grabbed someone by the shoulder to boost herself to her feet. Tall for a girl, Tina stood nearly eye-level with him when she asked, “What’s wrong with Chrissy?”
Eddie gestured with his head, and Tina took the hint and followed him. Leading him toward the staircase up to the second level with Eddie hot on her heels.
“She called me from your room and asked me to pick her up,” he said once they reached the landing on the second floor. “That’s all I know.”
Tina led him to a doorway at the very end of the hallway, pausing for a moment before knocking gently. It was significantly quieter up here, the music and general debauchery not bleeding through the thick carpeted floors as much as Eddie might’ve expected. Tina turned toward him, shrugging, and let him step past her.
“I hope she’s alright,” was all she said before leaving him alone at the door.
Eddie didn’t even look to see if Tina was watching him to check out his story or if she’d gone back down the stairs before knocking again, a little louder this time.
“Chrissy?” he called. “It’s, uh, it’s me. I’m here.”
There was a soft shuffling sound, then the telltale sound of the latch clicking, before the door eased its way open. Big, mournful blue eyes peeked up at him for the briefest moment. Then, the door swung open quickly, and a little blur of pink sadness was throwing itself at him. Wrapping sure arms around his stomach and tucking her face into his chest with a deep, shuddering inhale.
“I’m sorry,” she began, her voice muffled against his body. Eddie pulled her further into him, one hand resting against the back of her skull as the other tucked itself around her waist. Feeling the way she shivered, her entire body quavering against the force of her emotion.
“Hey, none of that,” he responded before she could say more. “I wanna be here, yeah?” With you, he didn’t say, and the words choked his esophagus with their innate desire to be spoken. “You ready to get the fuck out?”
She nodded, her forehead scraping against her sternum, and seemed reluctant to finally let him go. Still shivering, her little white shirt clearly not holding her together well enough.
I want to know what it would feel like… to be embraced in the leather armor you don so nonchalantly.
She may not have written the note, but maybe that confidence his secret admirer desired so much could still bleed into her frame. Maybe, if she was into him like he fucking prayed she might be, Chrissy could find the same comfort the other person assumed would exist when enveloped in his jacket.
Whipping his signature armor off, Eddie settled it gently over her shoulders. Chrissy paused, looking down at the heavy fabric suddenly weighing her down, before letting her wide-eyed gaze find his once more. Her eyes, already shimmering in the muted light spilling from Tina’s room, seemed to fill, but that could’ve been a trick of the light. The next moment, she was wrapping that jacket further around herself, taking his hand in hers, and leading him back down the stairs.
Holding his hand. Holding his hand? Holy shit, she was holding his fucking hand.
They pushed through the various sweaty bodies on the first floor, Chrissy practically clinging to his fingers as they searched for her friends. Shit, he couldn’t even wince when she turned every corner and squeezed tighter, though. She could grind his goddamn bones into dust for her bread and he’d just grin the whole goddamn time, so long as she chose to consume some part of him.
She finally spotted Abigail Taylor on the back deck, talking to some other cheerleader Eddie had no name for. Melody or Malady or something. Whatever.
“Oh, my gosh, Chrissy, we’ve been looking for you!” Abby shouted, swaying a little before she wrapped her arms around Chrissy’s leather-clad shoulders. “You, like, disappeared! I asked Melanie if she’d seen you, but she said you bolted, too!”
Finally seeming to take in Eddie’s hovering appearance, Abby’s eyes narrowed. Not at all shocked, it would seem, by his appearance. Which. Alright. Chrissy must’ve said something about him to her, right?
“Eddie. Where have you been keeping my best friend?”
“Eddie just got here,” Chrissy explained, her voice quiet. “Do you know where Felicia is?”
“Um, basement, maybe?” Abby looked at her friend again, having to duck a little to meet Chrissy’s eye. Gosh, she was so fucking small, and his jacket swallowed her up like a black void walking on two pink stilts. “Hey, you alright?”
“I’m leaving,” Chrissy replied without giving a straight answer. “Eddie came to pick me up. Can you let Felicia know, please?”
“Chrissy?”
“Please?” Chrissy asked again. “I just want to get out of here.”
Abby stared at her for a long moment, worry clear in the lines of her face, then nodded. “Yeah, babe, sure. We’ll let her know.”
It was only then that he noticed Melanie, as was allegedly her name, openly gaping at him. Her eyes kept darting from his and Chrissy’s clasped hands to the obvious statement of his jacket on her shoulders. About a million questions were clear in her unhinged jaw, but before she could pick one to ask, Chrissy was pulling him down the deck stairs and through the side yard. Pointedly not going back into the house again.
Eddie chose to keep his lips zipped until they made it back to the van. Allowing Chrissy to set the pace, her legs picking up the moment she spotted his gas-powered haven. He walked her around to the passenger door, opening it and helping her in, but paused there a moment as she settled against the seat. Hand still in hers, Eddie took the opportunity to squeeze this time, albeit way softer than she had.
“Where’re we going?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and level. Afraid to spook her even slightly. Chrissy closed her eyes, exhaustion permeating every inch of her body as she sat back and let her head rest against the seat.
“Anywhere but here.”
“I got a house full of douchebags, but that’s just ‘cause they wouldn’t leave. Let’s go kick ‘em out, yeah?”
“Oh, gosh,” she said, bending forward until her forehead was practically touching her knees. Still holding his hand, she pulled it in and sandwiched it against her chest. Preventing any form of escape, had he had the intention of letting go. Yeah. Fat chance. “I really ruined your whole night, didn’t I?”
“No,” Eddie replied firmly. She took a shuddering breath, clearly not believing him, and Eddie squeezed her hand again. “Hey, look at me, Chrissy, please.”
That face of hers turned just enough to peek one endlessly sad eye up at him. Eddie squatted awkwardly with one knee in the footwell of the car, ass sticking out the open door, but it brought him down to her level.
“You needed out,” he stated matter-of-factly. “If I didn’t want to be the one to jailbreak you, I wouldn’t have given you my number. Alright?”
“But your friends—”
“They’ll be fine,” he stressed. “We’ve been hanging out all goddamn day. You’re better company, anyway, sweetness, swear to Christ.”
That fucking nickname again. Where the hell had that come from?
Whatever, don’t think about it. Chrissy didn’t seem to care, sitting up fully again but keeping his hand against her chest for a long moment. Then, with a slow, intentional breath, she released him and nodded.
“If you say so,” she finally replied, her voice soft and rasped. Stretched so thin it was nearly transparent.
About a million things were poised on the tip of his tongue. Reassurances that wouldn’t get them away from this place any faster. So Eddie bit down hard, keeping them contained behind the barrier of his teeth, and moved to shut her door and slip around to the other side of the van.
In the distance, a bunch of kids suddenly parting caught his attention. He watched, fascinated, as Jason was practically hurled out of Tina’s front door, followed immediately by an excruciatingly confident Abigail Taylor. Chrissy’s other friend, Felicia, was close enough to be Abby’s shadow. She was screaming something indiscernible over the poppy bass of the music, and before Jason could say anything in response, she slapped him hard across the face. When he tried to speak once more, Abby smacked him again, this time hard enough that the echo reverberated above the music, and Eddie was absolutely delighted by this strange turn of events. As Abby shook the sting from her hand, Felicia stepped angrily toward Carver.
No one noticed him, everyone suddenly congregating around the disagreement, and it took real strength to abandon the show and remember his journey of getting Chrissy the fuck out of there.
Chrissy didn’t seem to notice the disturbance happening at the party. She kept her eyes resolutely away as he started the van, then for a full three blocks of their drive, focused instead on the wringing hands in her lap.
Then, when she decided they’d put enough distance between her and Tina’s, she finally told him what happened. How Ass-Munch Carver yet again cornered her, dragging her into a closet to berate and verbally attack her. The weird shit he’d said about Eddie to again reiterate the fact that they must have been cheating on him, and how he would be disgusted if he tried to touch her when Eddie had already been there.
Every word out of her mouth had Eddie’s grip on the steering wheel tightening. Forcibly focusing on the road before him instead of jerking the van in a giant u-turn and going back to finish what Abby and Felicia had started. Suddenly, their angry actions made a hell of a lot more sense, and all Eddie could fathom was returning and adding his own bruises. Spilling the same red that was currently coating his vision. God damn that fucking asshole and his vindictive selfrighteousness.
Who the fuck did he think he was? What the fuck was wrong with him? Why would he believe himself vindicated in his actions when he used his brute anger to strike fear into a girl’s heart? If it wouldn’t permanently scar Chrissy’s already fraying psyche, he’d go fucking annihilate that bastard.
“I just, um,” she finished as Eddie pushed himself further and further away from the house. “I don’t think he would’ve h-hurt me, not physically, but I just… Gosh, Eddie, I was terrified.”
Teeth grinding together in his blind fury, Eddie couldn’t respond. He’d explode if he opened his mouth right now. Because she didn’t know, not really. And Eddie knew that men, particularly scorned men, were capable of a whole variety of disgusting bullshit.
His own piece of shit father was a raging example.
So, yeah, no, Eddie wasn’t about to say anything and further freak Chrissy out. She’d been through enough, and him giving weight to those fears she wouldn’t admit were fears would only add fuel to the fire of her upset. Better to stay silent. Better to seethe.
If Carver ever approached her again after tonight, however, Eddie wouldn’t hold back.
Movement caught his eye. Glancing over, he saw Chrissy pulling her knees up onto the seat. Further wrapping herself in the leather jacket he was unashamed to admit looked far better on her than it ever had on him, she tucked herself into the cigarette burn-pocked seat and watched the town pass by.
Eddie had to swallow a couple of times to finally find words hidden in the back of his throat that weren’t angry insults or violent intentions.
“Eddie?” Chrissy asked before he could find a plausible line of connection. Any possible conversation topic that wasn’t his fists’ need to connect with that motherfucker’s jaw.
“Yep?” he replied, and even that single syllable was heavy with his unyielding rage.
“Are you, um,” she began her voice so fucking tiny it made his lungs twist painfully together in his chest. It was only then he realized how fucking quiet the van was. He hadn’t thought to throw on any music in his haste to get to Tina’s, and the silence carried them both nearly all the way back to Forest Hills. What a fucking rarity that was. “Are you mad at me?”
“What?” Eddie hissed, the word breaking past his jaw with an unchecked fury. He took a slow, deep breath, rolling his lips for a long moment before attempting to speak again. This time, his voice actually came out with some of the softness intended. Still a hard edge, but softer nonetheless. “Chrissy, why on earth do you think I’d be mad at you?”
“You just, um.” She paused, and Eddie watched as her knees fell toward him. Looking at him instead of out the window. Like he, in all his red clouded anger, deserved her attention. “You’ve never been this quiet before. I-I’m sorry, Eddie, and I really, really appreciate you coming to get me—”
“I’m not mad at you,” he stressed. “Christ, Chrissy, you just had the worst fucking night and you think I’d be mad that, what, you asked me to bail you out of it? Why in the everloving fuck would anyone be upset with you in this situation?”
Catching her shrug in his periphery, Eddie let out a rough breath through his nose as he pulled into the trailer park. Jeff’s fucking car was still there, parked in Wayne’s spot, and Eddie wanted to kill his friends all of the sudden. Why did he choose to spend his time with absolute morons?
Turning the van off, Eddie took another deep breath before giving Chrissy all of his attention. Finally safe from running them off the road if he looked at her for longer than three seconds.
“I’m mad at Carver,” he spat the name, the venom leaking from his lips practically puncturing a hole in the gear shift between them, “because he went to that goddamn party, knowing full well I wouldn’t be there, with every fucking intention of creating problems. I’m mad at him for scaring you, and for making it seem like his unhinged beef is your fault. Alright? Not at you, sweetness. None of this bullshit is on you.”
She nodded, somehow tucking herself further into his jacket, and Eddie’s hands shook with the need to touch her. To reassure her that she had no hand in Carver’s insanity.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said, her voice hoarse. Suppressed tears making it come out as more of a croak.
“Stop saying you’re sorry,” Eddie groaned, scrubbing those shaky hands down his face. “I’m not sorry, Chrissy; swear to Christ or fucking Satan or whoever I’m not.”
Nodding again, Chrissy used the sleeve of his jacket to scrub at her cheek before offering him some half-assed attempt at a smile. Not that he could fault her. Who in the goddamn underdark could smile after what she’d been through?
“Let’s go inside, yeah?” Eddie said after a moment, before the creeping silence could stretch its taloned claws further between them. Inside meant warmth and light and maybe some shitty movie to help take her mind off what she’d been forced to endure. Eddie had rented The Toxic Avenger to smoke to but maybe it was just the right amount of ridiculous that it could lift Chrissy’s mood from anxious to utterly flabbergasted.
Anything was an upward trajectory at this point.
Shoving his way out of the van, he practically galloped to the other side to help her out before she could even get her door open. A loose arm was thrown over her shoulders, leading her through the night and into the safety of his home. Despite spending an entire week in her presence, it still floored him how willingly she went with him. How she reached out to open the door herself before Eddie had a chance. Allowing herself into his space because she knew she was welcome.
The general noise of his friends taking up residence in his house quieted the moment he and Chrissy stepped through the door. Leaving off with a discordant note of disbelief that had Eddie hardening a glare against their shocked stares. At the open gawking they were suddenly forced to bear, Chrissy tucked herself further into his side, hiding her ruddy face from view. Unwilling to be caught by veritable strangers in such a state of disarray, maybe.
But not unwilling for him to see her like this, which. Yeah. What a fucking rush that was, even despite the circumstances.
“Get out,” Eddie demanded, letting as much menace as possible seep into his tone. The guys no longer hesitated or beat around the bush. All three of them practically jumped to their feet, grabbing jackets and snacks as they hustled toward the door.
No one said a word, thank god. And Eddie didn’t bother to wait around and see what weird looks they gave him, instead guiding Chrissy back toward the kitchen so she could decide what her personal next steps were. She took his lead, throwing a small smile over her shoulder as she stepped toward the bathroom. Waving him off when he asked if he could get her anything.
Huffing, Eddie scrubbed angry hands through his hair and turned toward the living room. He loaded Toxic Avenger into the VCR and fast-forwarded through the previews, turning back to the couch. Only then noticing the pig sty left behind by the fucking raccoons he apparently allowed in his home. He groaned, grabbing the trash can from the kitchen and shoving all the garbage into it as quickly as possible. Crumbs were brushed into the carpet, hopefully to go unnoticed, and Eddie was just putting the can back when Chrissy emerged.
She’d scrubbed her face of makeup. Her hair was thrown up into a bun atop her head, like a sunset crown showcasing her royal status. The jacket she’d borrowed was adorned like a cape – sleeves abandoned, but the comfort of the fabric still wrapped around her frame.
She was fucking captivating.
God, he was gone for her. Just completely and utterly smitten. In her pink pants and his jacket, she looked like every goddamn daydream he’d never admit to having about her. All those years of denying himself the truth of his own feelings had culminated into creating this perfect fantasy of her in his home. Like the power of his resistance had magnetized her into his orbit. Physics or some bullshit.
Without really thinking about it, Eddie opened his arms, and Chrissy immediately stepped into them. Not even a modicum of hesitation as she allowed herself to be folded into his embrace. She breathed deeply, resting her forehead against his sternum and holding him tightly.
Fuck. Jesus Christ. He could probably stand here for the next century and not get tired of the way she felt in his arms. A little ball of golden hour sunlight tucked into him like he was some sort of haven. Some sort of safety.
Shit. Maybe he was. As much as Eddie hadn’t wanted to qualify himself as some white knight, he’d shown up the moment something was amiss twice for her now. Ready to do it again before the dropped hat could hit the goddamn floor, if she needed him. The thought only made him squeeze her tighter, reveling in the warmth of her body against his. The scent of her intoxicating perfume filling his nostrils, the slight jut of her shoulderblade against his palm.
Unfortunately, they’d both probably collapse and die of exhaustion before he got his fill of her, so Eddie took the initiative to lean down. Not quite letting her go as he asked, “You wanna watch the best worst movie ever made?”
He felt the way her smile stretched her cheeks. The slight brush of her lips against his chest, as separated as the skin was by the stupid cotton layer of his t-shirt. Which. Holy goddamn fuck. What was that?
“Is it, um,” she started, swallowing heavily. “Is it scary?”
“Not even a little bit,” Eddie responded. Pausing, he clarified, “It is totally grotesque, though. It’s about this dork that gets dumped into toxic waste and becomes, uh, an anti-hero, I guess?”
Somehow managing to tighten her hold around him, Chrissy eventually sighed.
“Sounds kind of perfect, actually.”
“Fuck yeah,” he chuckled, though he didn’t quite let her go. Waiting for her to decide that she no longer wanted to be engulfed in the mess of him. When she finally did, she let her hands linger on his sides. Fingertips trailing against his hips like she hadn’t thought through the ramifications of separation.
“You, uh, you hungry or anything?”
“Not really.”
“Well, we got cold leftover pizza and a shitton of chips,” Eddie said, gently guiding her to sit down before rushing into the kitchen. “It’d be a goddamn travesty if you let it all go to waste, Cunningham.”
Chrissy scoffed, though looking through the partition between the living room and kitchen proved that she had a broad grin affixed. “Why is this on me?”
“‘Cause I said,” Eddie shrugged, grabbing the pizza box and the bag of potato chips Gareth had apparently been too lazy to grab during Eddie’s absence and taking them back to the couch. He hit play on the VCR and practically dove back across the room.
Sitting just beside Chrissy. Gauging her reaction as the movie started, then letting go of a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding when she pulled her legs up and scooched infinitesimally closer to him.
They were quiet for the first twenty minutes or so. Chrissy gasped in horror at the appropriate parts, laughed at others, and seemed utterly fascinated by the ridiculous story unfolding before them.
As Melvin and Sara were getting to know one another, growing some romantic attachment, Chrissy let out this dreamy little sigh and leaned just so toward him. Eddie froze, his entire body going still as Chrissy reacted to the developing love story on his outdated TV screen. He couldn’t even see the picture anymore because his brain was fucking television ant races. Just completely fried after electroshock therapy or some bullshit.
Without giving any conscious permission to the limb, his arm suddenly stretched out, then fell across the back of the couch behind her shoulders. Eddie held his breath, the corner of his eye trained on Chrissy as she, too, froze, though for a moment far more brief than his own white out. Then, without moving her body, she looked up at him. Not leaning into his chest. Not resting her head on his shoulder. Nothing like the way it always happened in movies and on TV.
“Eddie?”
He had to clear his throat. Twice. Shit. Wrong move? Fucking probably. The last goddamn thing she needed after this batshit night was her thinking he just wanted to get up her metaphorical skirt. Shit.
“Yea— Yep?”
“Can… Do you, um…” She blinked, sitting up a little straighter and turning toward him. Mirroring her resituation, Eddie angled his body so he was facing her rather than the TV, though his arm stayed stubbornly on the back of the couch. Hand literally inches from her shoulder. Rolling her eyes, Chrissy groaned, pulling his jacket tighter around her body. “So, um, J-Jason said something, I don’t know, maybe kind of dumb earlier…”
Eddie tilted his head down, trying to catch her wandering gaze.
“Seems like he said a lot of really dumb shit,” Eddie replied after a few seconds when she didn’t elaborate. “And also insane.”
He took her breathless little giggle as a win.
“When he, um— When he was yelling at me about you and… You and me? And, like, cheating on him?” Eddie nodded. He was under the impression that that was basically all of what Asswipe Carver had said. “He… Gosh.” Covering her face with her hands, Chrissy took another deep, intentional breath. Holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. “Okay, so, like, he kind of implied that he started dating me because he was, um. H-He had convinced himself that you liked me?”
His brain wasn’t racing ants anymore. It was straight flat-lined. The long beep of a heart monitor gone dead.
Forcing out a laugh that sounded more like a whimper, Chrissy shook her head.
“Stupid, right?” she asked. Searching for some verification he wasn’t sure how to give her. “You, um. You barely even noticed me before last weekend, so I have no clue where he got that idea.”
Resuscitate. Resuscitate now, you piece of shit brain.
“Why—” His throat closed, and Eddie coughed. Pounding a fist against his chest as he choked on nothing. He opened his mouth to speak again, voice emerging in a garbled jumble like it had just thrown itself off a fucking skyscraper and was currently pancaked hamburger meat peeling itself off the sidewalk. “Shit. Sorry. Uh. Why— Why the hell would you think I’ve never noticed you, Chrissy?”
“Not never,” she argued, scrubbing her wrist against the fabric of her pants. “Just, um. Just not often, I guess?”
The back of his neck suddenly burned. Heart pounding in his chest, Eddie reached out and gently wrapped his hand around her wrist. Protecting it from her inadvertent abuse.
“Did you want me to notice you?” he finally asked.
Shrugging, she finally, finally looked up at him. Those blue eyes were swimming with emotion, and Eddie’s hand came down from the back of the couch to gently tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
“Hey,” he started, his fingertips slowly tracing the soft round of her jaw. “Did you want me to notice you?”
She didn’t look away, eyes trained on him like he was trying to see something beneath the surface that he’d been openly and proudly displaying on his forehead for the last week. Or, shit, maybe for the last six years, if fucking Carver managed to acknowledge it.
“I did,” she confessed, and holy shit. Holy fucking shit. Holy motherfucking shit of fuck. “I still do, Eddie.”
“Jesus, Chrissy,” Eddie said, the words breaking past his lips with a chuckle. “Pretty sure you’re the only thing I’ve noticed for fucking years now.”
Those wide eyes of her grew round with surprise, and her lips parted so fucking beautifully it made the stupid muscle in his chest skip an entire beat. Like he was in some shitty harlequin paperback or something. Not exactly the fantasy world he would’ve chosen to be sucked into, but he wasn’t about to complain.
“Really?” she breathed as Eddie tucked his thumb just beneath her bottom lip. Drawing her in.
“Yeah,” he answered easily. “How could I not?”
They leaned in together.
Fucking finally, his brain sighed as the taste of her washed across his tongue. Still parted lips allowing a little gasp of breath to invade him, and he greedily sucked it into his lungs and held it there. Chrissy wrapped her arms around him, keeping him in place as their kiss melted into this harmonious note of lips and tongue. It felt practiced in a way first kisses never did, like every step they’d taken alongside one another had been leading to this inevitable moment. It was comfortable, this kiss. Absolutely, ridiculously perfect.
Or maybe he was reading too much into it.
The heat of her bled into his skin, his hands moving to wrap around her frame and subsequently pushing that jacket off her shoulders. She made a noise of distress, breaking the kiss to chase the sudden lack of protection, and Eddie groaned and followed her. Stealing her breath and her lips before she could realize that she was so far out of his league it was laughable.
Chrissy fell into him entirely. Jacket forgotten, she let him guide her through one kiss, then took control for the next, the push and pull of their embrace like waves dancing for the moon. A whole ballet composed of two people finding the inexplicable rhythm of belonging.
They came up for air, and that starlight grin greeted him when he found the strength to open his eyes. Soft reddened lips stretched over perfectly imperfect white teeth as happiness permeated every square inch of her radiant little form. Eddie was half-convinced he saw bouquets of flowers blooming over her shoulders, and he had to blink to clear away the image.
Her hands came up slowly. Gently cupping his jaw, she leaned in until her forehead could rest against his. He stared at her as she became an amorphous blob of blushing skin and sunset hair. Eyes closed and lashes fanned out against her cheeks, she almost seemed to breathe him in for a long, gorgeous moment that Eddie didn’t want to end.
“I noticed you, too,” she admitted, and Eddie grinned despite the fact that she couldn’t see it.
“Yeah?”
“It was hard not to. You’re so good at making a spectacle of yourself.”
Laughing, they seemed to move in absolute synchronicity. Chrissy burrowed into his side as his arm fell across her shoulder, facing the TV once more and picking up the line of a story they’d apparently missed quite a bit of. He leaned around her just enough to grab the jacket, pulling it back over her shoulders and fucking reveling in the tiny little smile of appreciation she awarded him in response.
They fell asleep like that. Curled up on the couch, uncomfortably comfortable in the company of one another, with his jacket and his arm both wrapped around her.
Eddie figured both those things would remain there until she took them off herself.