Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

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“fucking… shit!”

you jump, startled, and lose the grip on your bunch of keys. they clatter on the ground, chipping the tiny charm in the process - time for you to go, tweety.

you turn towards the voice muttering profanities a few parking lots away, seeing a familiar face kicking the tire of his van and dragging a tired, exasperated hand through his messy curls.

you grab your keys from the ground and walk to him, backpack half hanging from your shoulder. “everything okay, munson?”

he turns with a deep frown but smooths it out when he sees it’s you, offering a half smile in greeting and a slight bow of his head. “not quite,” he grunts. “some dickhead thought it funny to pierce a hole in my tire, and now i gotta go home on foot. or wait for my uncle…”

he’s half-muttering to himself now, and you take a moment to realize that this is probably the first time you actually saw him worried and - the right word would probably be, dejected. it’s strange: eddie munson is always joking and teasing, not even the fact that he’s at his third senior year seems to faze him anymore, and usually even the bullying stops at calling him a freak because he’s just too chill to let what other people say or think of him affect him.

apparently, they decided to try a different approach. dickheads indeed - this has jocks written all over it.

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking. you’re not exactly friends, to be honest - you share various classes and also happened to work on a few projects together, but that’s the extent of it. you’ve always seen him in the background at school previous to your senior year - he was impossible to miss, as his personality demanded your whole attention; he was a costant, brilliant presence moving in and out of your circle, making you almost painfully aware of his existence - yet you never engaged with him, not for lack of desire to do so. you’re simply not that great with strangers and have always felt some sort of deference towards the older students.

you’ve always thought it would be an amazing experience to actually get to know him, hearing his weirdly deep rants about any sort of subject up close instead of straining your ears from your table in the cafeteria - even during class, if he was in the mood to pay attention, he would rarely say something dumb. he always seems to think before speaking, and then from time to time he would even quote pieces of literature. how could you not be intrigued?

and even if it’s different now, as you’re both on equal ground, there still hasn’t been an occasion for you to exchange more than a few words.

maybe this was it.

“you need help to change your tire?”

he blinks, looking surprised that you’re still here. “um, what?”

you point to the tire slumped sadly on the ground. “i can help with that, if you want.”

he still looks like a deer in the headlights, hands gripping his elbows and head tilted sideways as he just - stares at you, as if he’s considering whether you’re fucking with him or you’re actually serious.

hopefully, since he hasn’t told you to fuck off yet, he’s leaning more towards the latter.

“thank you, sweetheart,” he says eventually. “but this was my spare tire. it’s not the first time this happened, and i haven’t… mmh… had time to change it yet.”

“oh.”

you stare at each other, a weird mood settling on the scene - it kinda feels like you’re both trying to figure the other out without being able to. you can’t read his expression, his poker face is too good for that, so you can only hope he doesn’t think you’re crazy, or worse - one of the bullies who ruined his only means of getting home.

you clear your throat before he can say anything, and point in the general direction of your car. “well, do you want a ride? you can’t go back on foot, it’s about to rain.”

“why?”

the sudden sharpness of his voice catches you off guard. “why what?”

“why are you doing this? you rarely talk to me outside of class. actually, i didn’t even think you knew my name,” he calls you out like he’s just stating a fact, merciless yet not cruel, and you start to regret ever coming up to talk to him.

“we have six classes together, of course i know your name,” you murmur, not really knowing what to say. yeah, what possessed you to make you go and talk to him out of nowhere? god, no one likes nosey people.

time to flee the scene. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to impose or- or look like a busybody. you just looked like you needed help and i- i, well, doesn’t matter. uh, sorry again then. bye.”

you’re already in front of your car when you hear your name (he knows it?) being called, but you’re feeling humiliated enough and you just want to go home and try to forget the way you just made a fool of yourself.

eddie calls your name again, and his hand presses against your car door. “hey, wait a second- please?”

god, why couldn’t you mind your own business? with a sigh, you straighten your back - just pretend not to be affected, then take the furthest seat possible from him in your classes from now on.

“mh?”

“look, i didn’t mean to sound rude - it came out wrong,” he says quickly, as if he’s afraid you might just jump in the car and run before he has finished. “we just never talked, and suddenly you come up and offer me a ride? i’m grateful but also a bit confused. okay? you usually avoid me!”

you stubbornly ignore the fragments of past scenes coming to mind - eddie picking up your pen and you taking it from his hand without even glancing his way, cheeks too warm from the brief yet lingering touch of his fingers against you; him moving away from your path with a flourish and a half bow, half gentleman and half jester, only to get a tight-lipped awkward smile before watching you scurry away; you fidgeting on your seat as the both of you work together on the same essay, too nervous and focused on the light scent of aftershave coming off of him to notice his perplexed and vaguely annoyed expression.

to be fair he probably has all the reasons to think you’ve been avoiding him, but you’re not about to confess your crush just to clear up the whole misunderstanding.

and yet - it hurts to know that’s what he thinks of you.

“i don’t avoid you!” you blurt, turning so sharply towards him that he takes an instinctive step back. “you’re the one who’s unapproachable!”

his eyes widen almost comically, his finger pointing to himself. “who, me?” he snorts a laugh. “i’m, like, the most approachable guy in the whole school. wouldn’t be able to run my business otherwise, you think?”

you stare at him, speechless. why is he even insisting - how are you having this conversation?

“munson, you’re just- kind of intimidating, to be honest”, you force yourself to admit. “and i’m not great at making friends - usually people approach me first because i guess i give off a non-threatening aura, but that’s it. and you’re this- this big, imposing presence, the cool older senior who deals and has a band and tattoos and long hair - and, and… don’t you see it? it’s overwhelming! so- so, i’m not avoiding you, i just can’t meet your eyes!”

at this point you’re pretty sure that if the ground doesn’t open up and swallow you whole in the next five minutes you’re going to find it very hard coming back to school tomorrow, but that sounds like a problem for future you. present you has her own problems - she’s breathing shakily, staring at eddie munson waiting for the guy to laugh or tell you to fuck off and just hopefully forget the whole thing ever happened.

except - eddie munson isn’t looking at you like that.

his mouth is hanging open, his lips trying to move and mouth something despite his voice refusing to come out. the hand pressing the door of your car close slips away and curls into a tight fist against his thigh.

still, it seems anticlimatic to just enter your car and leave, so you wait. what else could go wrong at this point, right? he already thinks you’re kind of a bitch.

as you wait, you focus on the big, metal rings on his pale fingers, noticing a skull shaped one that wasn’t there the other day - and was that writing on his skin? you remember watching him scribble on the back of his hand during maths, looking bored out of his mind, blue ink shaping stylized images that looked like the ones patched on his jeans vest - and god, why do you even know this kind of stuff. but you couldn’t really help it, though?, since he keeps sitting next to you, forcing you to learn things about him. yeah, that’s it - it’s his fault, really.

“you think i’m cool?”

you blink, abruptly coming back to reality. “sorry, what?”

“you”, he says again, playing with a lock of his hair and twirling it under his nose as if it were a moustache. “you said- you think i’m cool?”

is he blushing?

because you’re blushing.

“well- well, i mean, you’re-” you gesture nervously towards him, feeling warm. that’s what he got from your little rant? “-you’re like, a rockstar”, you finish lamely.

please, god, take me now.

“a… rockstar”, he repeats, baffled.

you gesture wildly with the hand holding your keys like a weapon, throwing shyness out the window. “you have a belt made of bullets!”

“not today.”

you falter. “ah?”

“i said, i’m not wearing that today.” now he’s staring, a weird, considering look upon his handsome face. “actually, i think i only wore it a couple of times at school.”

your arms fall at your side as you hold his gaze, completely lost. why the sudden change of subject?

“i don’t understand what you-”

“a couple of times in the last three years, i mean.”

ah.

you clear your throat, lowering your eyes to the metallica tshirt peeking out from his jacket. a muscle twitches in your jaw as you clench your teeth, nervousness coming back in waves and warmth settling on your cheeks.

way to look like a stalker in front of the guy you fancy.

you swallow, gripping the strap of your bag and trying to look anywhere but him. except eddie is making it nearly impossible, standing big and tall in front of you and filling your whole visual field.

“i’m sorry”, you repeat, not quite knowing what to say. it’s like you’re having an out of body experience with how strange the afternoon has been - but this is definitely gonna put a stop to any future attempt of befriending him.

the last nail on your coffin, burying the little courage you had left.

out of the corner of your eye you see his fingers drumming on his faded jeans, then his hand twitches as if he’s debating whether to try and touch you - and you’ve had enough.

“i’m just gonna go before, uh, before it rains.” you finally stick the key in the door and open your car, throwing your bag on the passenger seat; the scent of vanilla coming from the arbre magique hanging from the rearview mirror is a lovely welcome for your frayed nerves.

“hey hey, wait”, eddie suddenly jumps in front of you, hands hovering mid-hair to show he has no bad intentions - at least that’s how he looks to you - and those big, brown eyes watching you with concern and- and something else you’re too tired to decipher. “this isn’t… ’s not how this was supposed to go.”

you close your eyes, deflated. “what are you talking about, munson?”

he grabs the back of his neck, leaning against the side of your car. “this… the first time we talked.”

you frown, crossing your arm. “we talk all the time in class.”

he throws you a flat stare. “i’m not talking about when we’re picking a subject for an essay or i ask you to copy your maths homeworks, sweetheart.”

sweetheart? maybe there’s still hope.

he groans before you have the time to say anything, and rubs his face harshly as if to pull himself together. “you know- i thought you hated me at first, with how you skirt around me and look on edge or uncomfortable all the time. thought it was because i’m the freak, and maybe some friends told you to give me a wide berth, you know? and i thought - well, that’s fair, a girl’s gotta protect herself from weird older guys who sell drugs! so i wasn’t going to lose sleep on it, i mean. but then you ended up in a lot of my classes! and you’re adorable. and it’s clear that you’re not one to judge a book by its cover, okay, you seem to have a good relationship with anyone. except me! and i- i don’t get it. i tried to talk to you, tried to tease you, to help you, to make you help me, try to look as unthreatening as possible! and you just- you just look away. you’re all fidgety like, like… i don’t know, like you’re red riding hood and i’m the big bad wolf! and then now, out of nowhere, you approach me first and offer me a ride? am i in a twilight zone episode?”

he stops brusquely to catch his breath, hand running through his hair as his eyes wildly look around as if to make certain that no one else was witness to his rant - but you’re alone now, students already gone home from the day and teachers probably still in some meeting inside.

“those were certainly a lot of words”, you mutter, mind reeling. you don’t think you ever heard him say so many words all together - well, not to you, anyway - and it was kind of… thrilling, to be honest.

maybe you were in a twlight zone episode.

“yeah, i tend to vomit words when i’m nervous,” he blurts out, unfiltered.

a few, fat drops of water start falling slowly all around you, splattering on your car and leaving round shadows on the pavement, but suddenly you’re not in a hurry to leave anymore. at this point you kinda want to resolve this thing, so you close your eyes and sigh.

“i have a crush on you.”

“…no.”

you huff a laugh at his incredulous tone, nodding. “yeah.”

he ignores the raindrop running down his nose and dripping from his chin, eyes intent on you, a hand raising to grip his shirt in the direction of his heart. “you’re serious? you’re not bullshitting me?”

you feel tired all of a sudden so you sit inside your car, legs dangling outside, hands grasped together in between your thighs. “nope”, you confirm, shrugging. “sorry.”

at least, the fact that he’s not one to gossip comes as a comfort to you - your little, silly unrequited crush is going to remain hidden, hopefully, and now the misunderstandings between you two are all cleared. it does make you feel a tiny bit relieved, all things considered - and maybe even your classes are going to pass with less tension.

“now, why do you keep saying sorry?” eddie opens the door wide and suddenly he’s kneeling in front of you, no thought spared for the dirty, wet asphalt of the parking lot.

“oh my god, get up, you’ll ruin your knees and your jeans-!”

“babe, i don’t care.” that shuts you up pretty quickly. “now, you were telling me about your crush? i have a few questions, if you don’t mind.”

this is all so surreal, you can’t even conjure the embarrassment anymore. “and do you have to stay there for this?”

“yeah, i think i’ll get better answers”, he smirks up at you, then he offers you his hand - palm up. “may i?”

why not? you put your hand over his and his fingers curl around it, the cold metal of his rings clashing pleasantly with the warmth of your skin. you try not to think of how many times you have wondered how would it feel to touch him - to have that degree of casual familiarity that would allow for it - and you fail, of course. the feeling of his hand grasping yours is even better than what you could imagine.

your eyes finally raise to his face, and in the dim light of the cloudy afternoon eddie munson looks incredibly soft, spurring you to gently squeeze his hand.

his smirk turns into something sweeter. “hi there.”

“hi.” your lips curl upwards, a bit sadly. “look, i didn’t mean anything with that, by the way. about my crush - you don’t have to worry about it. i just don’t want you to keep thinking i hate you, or that i’m a bitch. i’m just shy, promise.”

now he’s the one who squeezes your hand. “that does answer a few questions, although i never thought you were a bitch. just… maybe… a little stuck-up?”

you snort. “as if that’s any better?”

“it is”, he nods sagely. “you can work with stuck-upness, but you rarely can fix bitchiness.”

“aah, shakespeare?”

eddie’s whole face seems to brighten. “and with a sense of humour, too - a woman after my own heart!”

you bite the inside of your cheek, shaking your head. “please, don’t joke about that.”

he must have heard something fragile in your tone because he sobers up immediately, taking your other hand too and squeezing them together between his. “i’m not joking”, he assures you, gently. “haven’t you been listening, sweetheart? i told you i tried everything short of showing up naked for maths to catch your attention.”

your brain doesn’t immediately grasp the meaning of his words - to be fair, rain keeps falling in quiet, sparse drops, and his long curls are getting frizzy and a few damp locks are sticking on his forehead and pinky cheekbones, making him look like a renaissance painting; but then you blink, and he’s still on his knees in front of you, patiently waiting for your reaction - and the only thing you can say is, “uh?”

eddie laughs a bit, looking entirely too pleased with himself as he puts the weight of his torso against your thighs, looking up at you with your hands held against his face. “seen something you like, mh?”

ah, and the blush is back.

“this is why i couldn’t look at you.” you swallow, incredulous of the turn this whole awkward affair has taken. “you’re distracting, eddie munson.”

“and you’re beautiful, sweetheart”, he doesn’t miss a beat. “so! you have a crush on me, i have a crush on you… when are you gonna take me on a date? because i’m currently on foot, sadly.”

“i know, that’s why i offered you a ride earlier”, you remind him, rolling your eyes - then freeze. “wait- you have a crush on me?”

“yeah? pay attention”, he says distractedly, playing with your hands before bringing them up to his mouth and - leaving kisses on your fingers. “and i’m actually quite wounded that your way of flirting is ignoring me, you know. truly counterproductive, i have to say.”

his lips keep brushing and peppering kisses on your hands and you’re finding it harder and harder to focus on the conversation. “i know, i- i’m- sorry?” he casually puts your index finger inside his mouth and bites down on it, not to hurt but definitely to scold, and your breath hitches. “yeah, s-sorry doesn’t cut it.”

“it does not”, he concurs primly.

“how about-”, you try again, heart beating wildly inside your ribcage as eddie simply start to suck on your finger, slowly, watching you through half-lidded eyes. “-mmh, i give you a ride home, and we decide what to do on the way?”

god, how did things escalated so quickly?

he releases you with a pop and smile up at you. “yep, that’s better. and you’re gonna answer my questions, yes?”

“sure”, you murmur, light-headed.

“perfect!” he finally gets up, cracking his back with a satisfied groan and brushing the dirty off his knees, looking like a different person than the one cursing at his tire from earlier. “let me get my bag real quick and then we can go, babe.”

he leans in to smack a kiss on your forehead with admirable ease before jogging to his van, leaving you to admire his broad back and allow your heart to calm down.

so - guess the two of you are dating, now?

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Chapter Text

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you gave a ride to eddie munson and now you’re kinda dating.

well, dating might be a strong word for what you actually are - or aren’t - considering it’s been less then 24 hours since you drove him home with the promise of giving him a ride in the morning too, as his van had been abandoned in the school’s parking lot.

and, as promised, he has pestered you with questions for the whole duration of the ride - as if he had them all bottled up inside him, waiting for the perfect chance to spill out.

you had no idea eddie munson was this curious about you.

he started off small, immediately after giving you his address - as if you didn’t know where your crush lived - shooting one question after the other, barely breathing in between, hungry for knowledge.

your birthday, how many siblings you have, your favourite subjects - because even if you’re doing okay in maths he knows you don’t like it, you don’t have the same absorbed expression you get in english lit when you work with numbers - your favourite musician, oh you don’t have one? then maybe he can let you borrow some of his favourite albums…

you could barely slip in your own questions, because if he’s hungry then you’re positively starved, but he just diverts them with a wave of his hand and a “nah, nothing interesting about me - you’re the true mystery, sweetheart.”

you thought your crush couldn’t get any worse, but eddie was quickly proving you wrong.

he was horribly curious about the whens and hows and whys you started crushing on him, and looked totally appalled by the fact that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact second it happened with scientific accuracy. and why was that so important, anyway?

“because i know when it started for me!” he blurts out, thumping dramatically against the headrest.

you almost stop the car, hating that you’re having this conversation without being able to look at him.

“oh?”

“yeah”, he groans, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. “it’s that time we sat together at the cafeteria.”

“what?” your eyes widen as you calculate that mentally, trying to remember. “but… that’s… before the summer?”

“mmh.” his voice takes a faraway tone, as he lingers on the memory. “a week after spring break. my whole hellfire team was at home with measles - lucky for me i had it when i was a kid. anyway i was sitting all alone, playing with whatever stuff the kitchen was passing off as meat… and then- boom! you appear next to me and ask if you can sit. i mean- no one ever sits at the hellfire table, besides the hellfire club? and you usually stood clear of me, so i was understandably wary. but you thanked me really softly, sitting - not on the opposite side of the table, which was empty anyway, but next to me? like, right at my left. your legs bumped against mine under the table! and even if you kept your eyes on your tray - man, i couldn’t help but watch you. think it was the first time i actually saw you up close, you know? and you were - cute. and soft. even the way you ate, calmly and silently, trying to hide the grimace because that meat really sucked… i don’t know. it got to me. and- and you smelled so good!”

he sighs, feeling suddenly shy in the silence of the car. “you even said goodbye to me before leaving. you even smiled - even though it looked forced and tense, but you did. you came, ate next to me, said maybe no more than five words and left again… and i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and then, in september, you ended up in my classes… man. suddenly it didn’t seem that bad to repeat the year.”

you have stopped the car in the middle of the road and you barely even noticed it, completely enthralled by eddie’s retelling of a moment that, to be fair, you had almost forgotten - you actually forced yourself to, as you try not to remember the moments when you made a fool of yourself (because, really? sitting next to eddie munson out of nowhere, and not even talking to the guy? it was just another fail in a long list of them, and that scene had haunted you for weeks until you had managed to hypnotize your brain into erasing it from your memories). you didn’t even think he would take notice of you, nor remember it months - seasons - later.

instead, eddie remembers it perfectly down to what you were eating that day. how could you compete?

“that was incredibly sweet”, you murmur eventually, fragile, voice half-broken.

the noise of the rain and the wipers working tirelessly to clean the glass almost drowned your words, but eddie hears you anyway, leaning across the gear shift and resting his warm palm against your knee. he calls your name softly until you turn to look at him, blushing furiously and lashes wet from holding back tears, then he smiles.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited to be sweet to you”, he tells you serenely, as if that wasn’t the most romantic thing you’ve ever heard.

you blink, a bit shaken, then sniff and start the car once again. “you really are dangerous, eddie munson”, you exhale with a tremble, all your nerves focused on the sensation of his hand firmly gripping your knee.

if you hadn’t personally lived through it, you would barely believe that it had been you who confessed first - anyone else would have thought the opposite after such a speech from him. your head was empty, his words repeating on a loop - your throat dry, your hands clammy. and you’ve talked with the guy for what, a couple of hours? god. where had he been hiding this smooth personality of his?

eddie seems content enough to let you simmer in what he said, because for a while he lets you being lulled by the rain and the low music coming from the radio. but then you clear your voice, somewhat recovered, and he starts back with his questions from where he left off.

“so, you know how to change tires?” he did ask at some point once you moved past the more sentimental stuff; he looked completely at ease, curled on the passenger seat fully turned towards you, half-sitting on his bent leg and balancing with an arm pressed against the dashboard and the other behind the headrest of your seat. it’s like he didn’t want to stop watching you now that he knew he wouldn’t have passed off as a creep.

“eh, i just said i would have helped you do it”, you point out, half-shrugging.

he snorts a laugh. “meaning?”

“well, i would have passed you the wrench or something. cheering from the sidelines, you know.”

eddie gasps loudly, dramatically leaning his head against the window with a soft thud. “so it was just an excuse to talk to me? man, you’re sooo adorable-”

you swear your cheeks hurt from blushing so often. “shut up or i’ll drop you here.”

“nah, you wouldn’t leave poor old me all alone in the rain…” you can feel him smiling even without taking your eyes off the road.

and now you’re driving again towards his trailer, twenty minutes before your concorded time to meet because you’ve been up since before the sky started to lighten, too nervous to sleep; and if what happened yesterday was just a lucid dream you made up, at least you wouldn’t be late for school.

you stop next to an old car, probably his uncle’s, and shut off the ignition before resting your hands and head on the wheel. should you get out and knock at his door? what if he’s changed his mind? or if he was still sleeping? god, or if he thought you ridiculous for being this freaking early?

this is the first time you’re dealing with a potential boyfriend, and you’re both so eager and terrified that you don’t know what to do with yourself.

still, you don’t regret that burst of courage that made you come up to him - especially since it gave you the chance to actually learn what he thinks about you. nervousness isn’t the only reason why you woke up early - you actually barely slept at all, lying wide awake on your bed mulling over everything he said, running through every interaction from when you first started to notice him ‘til now, recalling the feeling of his hands holding yours - of his mouth nibbling on your fingers.

god! you didn’t dream all of it, right? it actually happened?

just when your thoughts are starting to turn mushy, a sudden, brusque rapping on the glass of your window makes you jump and curse loudly, but when you turn to glare at whoever decided to scare the crap out of you this early in the morning - you deflate, surprised, seeing eddie on the other side of the door.

but then you gasp in horror and get out of the car, jumping on the gravel of the yard. “my god, eddie, it’s november- what are you doing?”

the young man grins unrepentantly, naked from the waist up and wearing only black jeans and his boots - and half of his faced is caked with shaving foam, some of it dripping on his tattooed chest.

“morning, sweetheart”, he greets you instead, ignoring the goosebumps forming on his skin. “i’d kiss you, but i don’t wanna get you dirty.”

you shake your head, stunned. “go. inside. before you catch pneumonia!” you press your hands against his shoulders and try to push him towards the trailer. “i’m not going to disappear if you take the time to get dressed!”

eddie points a finger at you, trying to look stern. “don’t leave. give me ten- no! five minutes! less than five! and i’ll be right back, babe, okay?”

he waits for you to nod before turning and scrambling up the ladders and back again inside his house, a tornado of a man.

you slump against your car, huffing an incredulous laughter.

- - - -

the ride to school goes almost exactly like the day before, except this time you feel a tad less embarrassed and a bit more at ease - probably also thanks to the eyeful you got of him that morning, which was a lovely way to start the day.

not that you have given him the attention he deserved, as you were much more worried for the blatant disregard of his own health to truly appreciate the way his jeans hung low on his waist, carelessly showing off the dark happy trail slithering down from his navel, or the sharp line of the hipbones, the cool ink blossoming on his pale skin in various shapes and images-

mmh. maybe you did pay attention.

come on, girl, you told him you like him yesterday, maybe give it a couple more days before showing him your lustful side? be. a. gentlewoman.

besides, if he died of pneumonia all of your fantasies would die with him, so - guess it’s up to you to keep the guy alive from now on.

yet eddie was just so adorably blasè by the whole thing that you couldn’t even scold him.

i just saw your car in the driveway and couldn’t resist! he said as if that was reason enough to come outside half naked to greet you. was the first time a cute little lady came to pick me up.

well, what could you say to that?

it’s amazing how quickly the two of you seem to have slipped into this new dynamic, so you’re kinda worried that the other shoe is not far from dropping - but still, everything is so new and soft and easy that the only thing you want to do is close your eyes, relax and let eddie drag you wherever he wants.

metaphorically - he’s still without a car.

as you get close to school, however, his mood seems to shift slightly and he fidgets on the seat - fingers drumming nervously against his leg.

“hey, babe-” he clears his throat, “-you should drop me off around here, i think.”

you’re half distracted by the music on the radio and it takes you a while to grasp his meaning, but when you do you throw him a glance from the corner of your eye - man, he does look pretty nervous.

you decide to nip that particular behaviour in the bud.

“mh, how so?” you keep on driving, carefully casual, slowing down as you enter the school parking lot even though eddie is trying to lower himself on the seat - as if anyone could miss that amazing head of his.

“babe…” he turns to you, lips pressed in a worried frown. “you know it.”

your fingers tighten around the wheel. “eddie”, you start, speaking calmly but firmly. “i’m not about to pretend i don’t like you or that we’re not going out just to protect the delicate sensibilities of the popular crowd.”

you keep driving until you see his van, empty spots on both of its sides because people are dicks, and park your car right next to his. then you turn off the ignition and twist to look at him, serious.

eddie looks concerned but also somewhat endeared, so you sigh and offer him your hand - which he grasps without a second thought.

“is that what you were trying to do?” you ask him gently, squeezing his fingers.

“mmh-” he squeezes you in return, the rigid set of his shoulders softening noticeably. “i suppose- i just lost some nerve once we reached the school. it- it just…”

“felt more real all of a sudden?”

he raises his eyes to look at you, nodding grateful. “yeah. sorry.”

you can’t help but laugh a bit. “who’s the one apologizing, now? it’s okay, eddie - i get it.” you inhale deeply, thinking. “so- what do you want to do?”

he replies immediately, leaning towards you and clinging on your hand for dear life. “i want to go out with you.”

“okay then, rockstar.” it’s your turn to smack a kiss on the back of his hand, watching him beam warmly. “let’s go.”

you let go of his hand to slip outside the car, shouldering your bag and waiting for eddie to come out too so you can lock it. he straightens immediately, hands on his hips as he takes a look around his van only to note that yes, his tire is still completely deflated and looks even worse than yesterday.

you come up to him, patting him softly on the back. “so, what are you gonna do about that?”

“i asked wayne”, he sighs, crossing his arms. “he said he’ll call the workshop later this morning and have them come here to change the tire. sucks because i don’t have the money to pay him back now, though.”

you hum, your pats becoming slow drags of your hand in circular motions. you feel him loosen up a bit, so you continue. “it’s not as if you’re using the money to buy shit, eddie. i’m sure your uncle is happy to help you - just as i am to give you a ride. 'kay?”

he smiles down at you, head tilted almost shily. “yeah, i know”, he murmurs.

there’s suddenly something charged in the air as you two look at each other, hidden from the rest of the people crowding the parking lot by the tall form of his van; your heart seems to lodge in the back of your throat as you observe his eyes roving your face and - falling on your suddenly dry lips. instinct makes you wet them with the tip of your tongue and you don’t miss the way his breath hitches, and oh my god is this really happening? his hand is grabbing the back of your coat to pull you more into him, making you inhale the sharp, alluring scent of his aftershave, and-

“eddie!”

you both jump as if electrocuted, eddie groaning when he recognizes the happy voice greeting him loudly.

you turn in time to see a couple of familiar faces sauntering your way - the new, shiny recruits of eddie’s hellfire club. you recognize them mostly because one of them is nancy wheeler’s brother and the other is little erica’s, and by exclusion the one in a baseball cap is dustin henderson.

“your kids are here, munson”, you tease him, smirking at his long suffering groan.

they surround the both of you, exchanging quick greetings - dustin is the one who first notices the ripped tire of eddie’s van, and he immediately drags the older guy into an heated discussion.

lucas elbows you, still not entirely conscious of his recently gained strenght. “haven’t seen you in a while, baby”, he smirks, making even the young wheeler roll his eyes.

you groan just as eddie splutters, cutting short his discussion with dustin and turning towards you. “baby?”

“i babysit his sister and sometimes he’s there too”, you roll your eyes, amused by his over dramatic reaction. “he thinks he’s cute just because he’s suddenly taller than me. what have we said about that, kid?”

“that i’m a hundred years too young to call you baby”, he replies dutifully, a well memorized mantra. “still can call you bee, though.”

“whatever makes you feel cool, sinclair.”

eddie casually drapes an arm around your shoulders, pressing you against his side in a smooth movement that makes butterflies flutter wildly inside your stomach. “behave yourself, ranger.”

the younger boy blinks, perplexed, finally noticing something’s unusual between the two of you. “okay, what… what’s going on?”

“we’ve decided to go out and we’re late for class, so,” you push past the kids briskly, eddie right behind you clinging to your coat with his free hand, and ignore dustin’s shrill “what?!”

“you didn’t tell me you were also friends with the freshmen, babe”, your newly appointed boyfriend pokes at you, curious. “is there anyone you’re not friends with? or did you charm the whole school?”

you snort, blushing a bit. “dork. there’s plenty of people i don’t like. plus lucas’ little sister is a friend of mine, they’re in class together and have a lot of sleepovers, so i guess i’ve seen him around more often.”

“damn”, he mutters under his breath. “there’s still so much i don’t know about you.”

“good. keeps the relationship fresh”, you smirk, letting him walk you to your locker.

he doesn’t look convinced, so you elbow him gently to make him look at you. “hey, we’ve literally just started talking. you thought i hated you until yesterday! as far as i’m concerned, it’s already an enormous step to say we’re dating when this is the second time we’re spending time together - and we’re in school, too, so that kinda doesn’t count. let’s take it easy, mh? you don’t have to cram every kind of random infos about me all in one morning.”

eddie groans, pressing his forehead against the cold metal of the locker next to yours. “it just feels like i’ve wasted enough time. i want us to just- jump ahead and be already one of those silly, solid cute couples without the whole slow courting and dancing around each other and wondering if the other likes you too.”

you can’t help but smile fondly. “but what if i told you i like the courting thing?”

“oh?” he perks up, eyebrows so high they’re hidden by his curly bangs. “i knew it - you’re a romantic!”

“i don’t know if i’m a romantic or if i simply like the idea of you courting me”, you admit, thoughtful. “we kinda already skipped a few steps with that hurried confession- maybe we should take it slow?”

he presses his hand against your stomach, gently pushing you back against your locker. your heart kinda does a somersault at that. “babe. any slower and i. will. die”, he deadpans, terribly serious.

“and besides-”, you swallow with some difficulty, delicately tickling his side and making him twitch. “-what couple? you haven’t even kissed me yet.”

eddie grabs your evil hand, brown eyes sparkling. “easily remediable, sweetheart! here, let me…”

he leans into you, eager like a puppy - but right when he closes his eyes in anticipation you press your free hand over his mouth, giggling.

“not gonna let you kiss me in the school hallway for the first time, munson,” you half chide, half tease.

he whines shamelessly behind your hand, lips moving temptingly against your palm. “but baaaabeeee…”

you love how he basically hasn’t called you anything but pet-names since yesterday - it kinda makes you think that he had to physically restrain himself from doing so before you went and told him about your crush.

the sharp ring of the bell interrupts your banter, and eddie throws an annoyed glance at his watch. “dammit. there’s no chance to convince you to skip it, right?”

“nope”, you smile at him, moving away from your locker. “you need to set a good example for your freshmen minions, babe.”

“no need for that! they’re already better than me. they’re all tiny little geniuses, i swear.”

you snort. “that doesn’t exactly work in your favour?”

“but what am i supposed to do without you?” he ignores you, hugging his metal lunch box. “it’s gonna be sooo boring. i have to sit next to chance lockwood and that guy smells like he showers with his daddy’s cologne.”

“it’s only an hour, then we have maths together right after”, you console him, easily ignoring the weird glances people are starting to throw your way. “besides, i can tell you something to keep you busy in the meantime.”

“mmh?” his eyes sparkle, intrigued.

you stop at the feet of the staircase where your paths split up and you signal him to move closer to your height, until your lips can reach his ear.

“i lied to you yesterday”, you whisper, smiling at the way his breath hitches. “i remember when i started to crush on you.”

then you step back and jump on the stairs, smirking, avoiding his hand trying to make a grab for you.

“you can’t drop that on me and then leave!” he complains, pouting pitifully.

your laugh haunts him for the whole time you’re not by his side. “see you later, rockstar!”

********