"Eddie! What the hell happened to you?"
You had stepped up to the door as you heard the knock that sounded from it. As you pulled the door open, you saw Eddie leaning against the frame with a kind of nervous smile on his face. He was struggling to look through one of his eyes, which was slightly squinted because the eye was surrounded in a dark purple splotch.
The giant bruise is not the only thing decorated on his face. His lip is split and he has a cut where the bruise around his eye is placed. He looks like shit.
Eddie smiles, though. It's not his wide smile that stretches across his face and wrinkles the area around his eyes. It's a small one that squints at you, almost nervous to see your reaction.
He tries to joke as his hand reaches across his stomach and holds his side. "You should see the other guys. They look much better than I do." He shakes his head at his pathetic joke, "There were three of 'em."
You mutter a curse under your breath, stepping forward and taking his face in your hands as you move it gently around to examine his bruises. He does not look away from your face as you do it, his eyes stare intently into you as your cool hands cup his warm face. It's a lovely feeling, one that almost has him sighing and melting into your hold. You feel like heaven right now.
You always do.
"Who did this to you?" you ask as you gently turn his head to the side to look at his nasty cut. There is concern drenching every feature on your face: the crease between your brows, the hard line of your lips, the worry in your eyes. Your knuckles brush softly against his cheek where he isn't bruised. Again, he nearly melts into you. You notice but don't say anything.
He shrugged, "Just some assholes who couldn't handle all this excellen– Ow!" His joke is cut off as you come to his side, wrapping your arm around him to hoist him up a little too tightly. You apologize quickly and quietly as you loosen your grip.
"God– Let me get you inside," you tell him, ushering him into the house. He sets his arm over your shoulders and lets you help him inside, limping slightly. You bring him up to your room, sitting him down on your chair and shoving the stacks of homework off your desk with little to no regard for any of its decency. It falls to the ground uselessly and you pay it no mind. It almost makes Eddie laugh.
But his ribs hurt.
You disappear into your closet and come back out with the first aid. You sink to your knees in front of him after setting down the kit, propping yourself up with a hand on his lap. Your hands lift up and wrap gently around his head, pulling him down so he's looking at you after you flick on the light from the lamp on your desk to see him a little clearer.
Under better light, the bruises look worse than they are. You shake your head and sigh as you take in what you will be working with.
It isn't new. This is the second time in the past week that he's appeared at your door all bloodied up. You had assumed someone is taking his "freak" status and using it as a defense to beat him up, but a second occurrence makes you think otherwise.
You bring a warm, damp cloth up to his face, gently dabbing at the cuts and scrapes as his blood stains the cloth. You watch him closely as you work, making sure you get all of the bad cuts. Eddie's eyes are on you, close and warm.
It isn't a stare that makes you want to shrink away — it never is with Eddie — his gaze is soft and it puts you at ease, even as you worry over his well-being while you're cleaning his wounds.
It is silent as you work. You can hear the slightly uneven breath of Eddie across from you, you can hear your own breath in your ears. Your eyes find his gaze as you dab at the cut next to them, giving a reassuring smile and a gentle squeeze of the side of his thigh when he winces slightly.
When you feel like his cuts are clean, you put down the cloth and grab the anti infection cream. "You know, you didn't have to do this, Blue," he trails off as you look back at his brown eyes again. The way he says your name is almost sentimental, like he's reminiscing something.
It's a nickname he had given to you when you first met. You walked into the theater room in the sixth grade and tripped over a bucket of blue paint, which spilled all over the floor in a huge, horrible mess. You fell forward into it and ruined your clothes. Paint stuck to your skin and your hair, your front was practically soaked in it.
Eddie was in the room with a couple of friends, introducing them to D&D when it was still new. They had seen the whole ordeal. One of his friends snickered at you, called you Crybaby as you had begun to sob. The other nearly joined in, but was quickly silenced by Eddie, who threatened to punch them both.
He helped you to your feet and offered a smile, even as you almost began crying again from getting some paint smudged on his hands and eventually his shirt. "That's alright," he'd told you. "I think it's cooler this way."
He smeared some of the paint on your hands into his own and wiped it down his shirt. He even swiped some paint from your cheeks and splotched it over his own. His hair was buzzed back then, but you are certain that if it had been longer, he would have painted it too. He had offered you that huge grin of his. "Now we're matching."
You laughed. Your voice was higher at the time, so it came out as a giggle. He laughed too, glad he was able to get you to smile. You introduced yourself right after, still grinning even as your cheeks began to hurt. He repeated the name back to you, just making sure he was saying it right before nodding decidedly. "I think I'm gonna call you Blue. It looks good on you."
"Blue?" you asked, testing out the name. You smiled and nodded, "I like it." You looked down at your clothes, and your frown returned as you felt the paint beginning to dry uncomfortably against your skin. He saw your lip begin to quiver and grabbed your hand, making you look at him again.
"Hey, don't cry," he'd told you. "You're gonna be fine, 'kay?" His reassurance was enough to make you smile again. Even with everything going on in his life, he had been so kind to you. He called you Blue. His best friend, Blue.
You shake your head at him as you gently apply some of the cream to his cuts. "Hush," you tell him simply. He breathes a laugh and instantly regrets it, a hand reaching up for his side where his ribs had likely been injured. The movement is not lost on you.
You lift his shirt up over his side to examine his chest as you speak. "Did you know the guys?" you glance up at him with your question, but quickly return your eyes to his chest, looking for any bruises. There are a few, but they aren't severe.
You poke around the expanse of his torso as he shakes his head. "No," he tells you as he licks his lips. "Like I said, just some assholes– Ow!" You had pressed your fingers into one of his ribs, and he arched his back away from you.
"Nothing broken. Just bruised," you tell him as you lower his shirt again. The look he gives you fakes annoyance, but you are not fooled, and he knows it.
You go back to applying the ointment over his cuts. You look back at him as you work, "You didn't taunt them, did you?"
He smirks, "What? Me? Never!"
You risk a laugh at his words, his sarcasm making you smile and putting you a little more at ease. "You're terrible," you say through a laugh. But the more you think about it, how he got hurt and how it could have been so much worse, the more your smile is wiped from your face and you frown again.
You shake your head, your fingers hesitantly hovering over the cut on his lap as you think. "Gonna get yourself killed," you mutter. It's almost a whisper. You dab the cream over his split lip.
Eddie sees the worry in your eyes and can't help but attempt a joke to make you smile again. He hates seeing you so upset, especially over him. "Oh, is that all?" he says.
You pull your hand away, finish with the cream as you sit back on top of your feet. You crane your neck to look up at him, no smile even ghosting your lips. You set your hands in your lap, still holding the small tube in your hands. "I'm serious."
He sighs and nods, his fallen face beginning to match yours. "I know." Slowly, he allows a grin to spread across his face, lighting up his features. He reaches over, ignoring the pain that blossoms from the bruises on his torso. They sting as he leans forward. He takes your hand, which disappears inside the size of his own that close around you.
"I will behave myself," he tells you. There is sarcasm clear in his voice, you know it's a partial joke meant to make you smile, not entirely sincere...but you cannot help but smile anyway. Eddie always had that weird way of making you smile when you didn't want to.
You sigh and just shake your head again, sitting back up so that you're more level with him as you grab butterfly bandages from your little box. "You better, Eddie Munson," you tell him, unwrapping the paper from the sticky adhesive. "Or I'll be the one to kick your ass."
He laughs heartily, "You're all adorable when you're threatening. Like an angry little chihuahua."
"Yeah," you mutter. He winces as you pinch one of his wounds closed, showing little mercy while you place the bandage over one of his small wounds. "And I'll bite your finger so hard, it'll come off. Try to play your guitar then."
He inhales through his teeth, giving you a half-way teasing look as he looks at you from the side of his eye. "Woah..." he says. "Too far."
You smile slowly. It's soft, but it's wide. You gently shake your head, grabbing another bandage as you agree. "Too far," you chuckle.
He laughs with you, his fingers stretching over his lap as you continue to bandage his cuts. You're almost finished with him. As you seal the last cut, you stand to your feet again with a heavy sigh. It's his turn to crane his neck up to look at you while you speak to him. "Face wounds heal really quickly, so the cuts should be gone in no time."
He nods, still grinning stupidly at you. "Thanks, Doc," he says.
You roll your eyes, even with a smile on your face. That smile does not last though as you step closer with more seriousness than before. "Hey. No more fights, Eddie, or I swear to god, I'm gonna kill whoever I get my hands on first." You lean forward, your face much closer than it was before as you look him in the eyes. "Even if it's you."
Eddie cannot get over how close you are now as you practically threaten his life for threatening his own life. He just licks his bottom lip and nods, "No promises."
It's the response you expected he would give.
~
Eddie shifts his weight over as he stands in front of a rack. He restocks the Queen albums as a few people idly walk through the store at the Starcourt Mall.
He hears a laugh, a gentle one that he recognizes immediately, and looks up. A smile takes his face as he sees you walking in, adjusting a bag on your side. You're wearing a blue shirt. It's his favorite color.
His smile is short-lived, though, because as you walk through that door so does your jock boyfriend, Tanner Fowler — the boyfriend that is much less excited to be in a music store. Eddie rolls his eyes and turns back to the rack.
"Eddie!" you call his name. It isn't a yell, just a way to get his attention. He glances at you and waves, not turning away from the albums in his hands.
"Hey, Blue," he greets you.
You move to walk forward but Tanner grabs your hand, pulling you into him and whispering something in your ear. Eddie glances over, watching you smile a little. He sees Tanner bite your earlobe and grab your ass.
You look at him, shoving him away from you lightly. "Stop. Jesus," you tell him. You always hate when Tanner does it. Eddie knows.
Tanner throws his hands up in fake surrender, still smirking at you. You roll your eyes and walk away from him. Tanner does not get the fact that you aren't smiling and you hate his stupid antics because his hand lands a smack to your backside shortly after.
You turn to him, scowling, "Tanner!"
He smirks at you. Apparently, he thinks it will put you in better spirits. It doesn't.
Eddie turns his body to face you both, leaning on his side as he shares your scowl. "Come on, man. She said stop."
You turn away from Tanner and toward Eddie. You get to his side and loop your arm around his as he finishes stocking the shelf. "Thank you," you tell him. He smiles.
Tanner isn't so happy about the fact that you abandoned him at the front of the store. As Eddie looks back up at the jock, he sees a glare directed his way and becomes suddenly aware of the healing bruise around his eye.
Through the rest of your time at the store as you browse through some more music with either Eddie or Tanner — more Eddie than Tanner — you talk and laugh. Your boyfriend is better about his methods of affection, but he doesn't stop, no matter how many times you tell him to stop.
—
"Y'know, when a lady says no, means no."
Tanner walks into the alley with his arms crossed over his chest as he looks at Eddie, who's leaning against the wall with a cigarette pinched between two fingers.
"Wouldn't have much experience with chicks sayin' yes, would you?" Tanner tries to be smart, quick-witted, as he sneers at Eddie.
But Eddie's quicker.
"No," he shakes his head. "I usually make them scream it."
He really did not mean to say it. It slips out from his lips before he can stop him, his urge to taunt getting the better of him. He doesn't show it, though. He just looks up at Tanner and smiles slyly.
Tanner is pissed. He uncrosses his arms, balling his hands into fists. "You come here to get your ass kicked again?"
Eddie smiles as he looks down at the dirty ground under his shoes. He chuckles and flicks his cigarette to the ground, squishing it as he puts it out. "I came here to remind you," he says, turning to Tanner, "if the lady says stop...you stop."
Tanner cracks his knuckles, trying to appear more threatening than he is. Eddie glances at his hands uncaringly, and then brings his gaze back to his eyes. The jock tilted his head, "You got a thing for my girl?"
The smile Eddie gives in purely to taunt and upset Tanner — not that he needed anymore help. He does not exactly mean to say what he does, but he is not exactly sorry about it either.
"She won't be your girl for long."
Tanner lunges forward, bringing his fist back as he gets ready to punch Eddie. "You little freak!"
—
You open your front door later on that day. You have just gotten back from the errand you had to run. As you pull the door open and see Eddie standing on the other side, he looks worse than last time.
He's got a worst split lip, two black eyes, a bruise on his cheek, and more cuts than last time. He gives you a pathetic smile, one you can just tell is hurting him.
"Heyy," he says, drawing out the word.
"Eddie!" you exclaim, moving to cradle him at your side. "Jesus Christ!"
He winches away slightly, "Maybe not so loud, I got a headache." He brings a hand to the side of his head and rubs his temple with his palm. He listens to you mutter yourself about recklessness, or something along the lines of that, as you shove him onto a kitchen stool.
"How you're still alive astonishes me," you tell him as you go to grab another cloth to start cleaning him up again. He smiles, even though it hurts to.
"Yeah, yeah," he trails off, sitting back. His face hurts, as does his stomach. You grab a bag of peas as you walk over with the warm cloth.
You take his face in his hands, cradling him like a precious artifact. You sigh and shake your head. He sees the worry in your eyes, embedded deep within your face. He hates to see it. He begins to regret coming here to see you.
You wipe down his wounds, cleaning them up as you continuously sigh and huff. You drop the cloth on the counter and place your hands over your hips as you look down at him. He leans back to look up at you, smirking like an idiot. You just know that nasty cut lip and the gasp on his cheek is making it harder for him to smile at you.
And he does it anyway.
"Eddie, you look like shit," you tell him, tossing the bag of frozen peas at his chest. He catches it and brings it up to his eye, sighing contently — although, moaning would probably be a better word — at the feeling that washes over him.
"Yeah, yeah," he sighs, licking his lip and wincing at the sting. He sets the bag in his lap and tilts his head at you, "You wanna get high? I could go for a high right now." And I miss you.
You laugh, despite your attitude with him, and return your hands to your side. You wipe your hands over your thigh, shaking your head as you allow a sigh to pass through your lips.
"I'm sorry, I can't," you tell him. His shoulders slump. "Tanner's taking me out tonight. Maybe after?"
Eddie begins to frown, but he catches himself. He doesn't want you to see how upset that makes him. He doesn't want you to feel bad. "Sure," he offers.
You give an apologetic smile and pick up the bloodstained cloth to take to the sink.
"If he isn't already in your pants," he mumbles under his breath.
You hum on your way to the sink, glancing over your shoulder at him. "Hm?"
He shakes his head and gives a tight smile, "Nothing."
The insult isn't directed toward you. The full heat of it is pointed straight toward Tanner. Eddie is 99.99% sure he's with you because you have a pair of tits.
The other 0.01% is in support of the hope that you have found a good person to be with.
You rinse out the dirty cloth and return to Eddie. "Come on, I'll bandage you up again."
He smiles. It doesn't matter how upset with him you are... you always take care of him. He adores you for that.
He adores you for a lot of things.
You shake your head and laugh, "I swear, you do it on purpose."
"Maybe a little." He says it as a joke, but you're not so sure it is.
And neither is Eddie, especially later that night when he sits in his trailer. He sits and he waits, two blunts in hand and his lighter on the table in front of him.
He sits and waits.
All night long.
Knowing you won't arrive.
—
"You got plans later?"
You look up at Eddie, who sits across from you with his lunchbox. His eyes peer up to see you as he blows out a puff of smoke.
"I was thinking we could go to your place," you continue. "Spend some quality time. It's been a while."
He knows what you're insinuating and smiles a little. He tries not to think back to the couple of days before when he waited for you. You are trying to make up for it, he can see the hope in your eyes that he will accept your invitation.
He shrugs and passes the cigarette over to you. "I'm supposed to drop Dustin off at the arcade," he says. "Steve was supposed to do it, but he's got work apparently."
You laugh, ignoring the ping of disappointment about his conflicts. "You sound like divorced parents trading your kid." You take a drag from the smoke and stand, rounding the picnic table to sit by him as you hand it back.
"We basically are," he snorts, shaking his head with a smile. "Harrington's been his mom for years." He straightens his back and stretches out his shoulder. He groans, his muscles are aching.
He had picked another fight with Tanner the day before... Well, no, he didn't. Tanner saw him and decided that he and his friends beat him up because they were bored.
You frown, picking at some of the peeled paint on the picnic table. His eyes find you again. The bruises are still there, fresher than they should have been by now. You sigh, laying your head on his chest and over his heart. He wraps an arm over your back and pulls you in, tucking your head under his chin.
"I'm worried about you, Eds," you tell him. He moves the cigarette, laying it on the table away from you.
He pets your hair, like his aim is to soothe you, even though he's the one who's gotten his ass beat four times in the last week and a half.
"Don't worry about me," he breathes. "I'm fine." He presses his lips to the top of your head.
You pull away from him, looking at his face as you shake your head. "No, I don't think you are, actually."
He snorts, a cocky smile painting his lips. "'Cause of a few little fights? It's nothing."
You take your thumb and press it against his brow, which has a cut going through it. It's held together by a butterfly bandage. "This–" he outwardly groans as he finches away from you, "–does not look like nothing. And yes, because of a few fights, because you don't get into fights, Eddie! At least not this often. It's insane."
"I know," he mutters, retrieving his cigarette and wiggling it between his lips.
You huff and lean on your fist. "Who are these guys?" you ask him, your brows knitting together in thought.
He chuckles, "Why? You gonna go beat 'em up yourself?"
You laugh a little at that. "Maybe." You shrug. Eddie breathes another laugh and shakes his head. You look back at him and sigh, "Or at least get Hopper to lock them up for a while to scare them. He owes me a favor anyway."
"So scary," he breathes, playful sarcasm coating his tone. You roll your eyes at him.
"And it's the same guys?" you wonder, scratching at the splintering table.
Eddie pulls the cigarette from his lips and rests his hands on the table. He nods, "Yep."
"And you have no idea who it is?"
"None," he replies, shrugging his shoulders and he licks his tongue over his bottom lip.
You pause as you turn to him, eyes wide and face nearly livid. "You liar." The words come out of nowhere, spoken in a quiet rage as you stare at him.
It almost takes Eddie off guard as he furrows his brows. "What?"
You point an accusatory finger at him, "You know exactly who it is! Tell me."
He laughs lightly and shakes his head, moving your finger away from his face. "Sorry to disappoint," he says, swiping his thumb over his bottom lip, "but I don't know, Blue."
"Yes, you do!" you insist. "You play with your lips when you lie."
He shakes his head, "No, I don't."
"You're doing it right now."
You're right. Eddie suddenly becomes aware of his bottom lip held between his teeth as he swipes his tongue over his split lip. He releases the flesh and sighs.
"Tell me," you insist again, turning your body to face him as you straddle your seat at the bench. You set your hands on his thigh. It is an absent-minded action.
"I don't know who it is, Blue," he tries. Hyper-aware of his body, he refrains from toying with his lip — but this just means he ends up drumming his fingers atop the table.
"Eddie, tell me who it is so I can take care of you," you nearly beg, nudging his thigh before moving your hands and sliding closer.
"No," the answer is firm. It isn't a denial of his knowledge of his attacker, but it's no name drop either. With the way he speaks, one would think it's a definite answer that ensures you stop pushing...but you're far stronger than a no.
And Eddie knows it.
You move a hand to his bicep, pinching him absent-mindedly. "Eddie–"
He cuts you off and shoves himself to his feet, "It's your stupid boyfriend, alright?" He says it a lot louder than you expect, it takes you by surprise.
He huffs and steps over the bench seat after taking his cigarette in his hand again, walking closer to one of the trees in a large space of the woods. He licks his bottom lip, sinking his teeth into the flesh, despite the pain. He shakes his head and sets his hand on his hips, pacing around a small patch of land in thought.
You're quiet for a moment, taking in his confession. The space between you is silent, save for the rustling of leaves and snapping of twigs underneath Eddie's shoes.
When you speak, you are upset that your voice sounds little more than a pathetic whisper. "What?"
Eddie sighs and places his cigarette between his lips, kicking at the ground and squishing his foot into the dirt. He shrugs as he thinks to himself before speaking.
"I called him out for being an ass, so he and his friends jumped me," he tells you, refusing to look back at your worried gaze. "Called him again after the record store incident, so he jumped me again."
You only glanced up at you as he continued, "You remember that day I took you to the movies right before Tanner asked you on a date that night later on? You turned him down because you already had plans with me?"
You nod timidly. "I found out he was trying to some creepy sexual bullshit with you, had his friends all in on it. They kicked my ass the next day 'cause of it, he was pissed... This last time was just for fun."
You look down at your hands, trying to take in everything Eddie has just told you. Your boyfriend was beating up your best friend right under your nose, and you couldn't tell.
Remembering all those times where Eddie would show up at your door with blood, bruises, and bashful grins suddenly made your heart squeeze. He took all of it and never made a peep about it because he didn't want you to feel bad or responsible for Tanner's treatment of him.
But as you thought of how one of the fights may have gone, you can't help but furrow your brow. You pinch the ring finger of your left hand and speak quietly. If it wasn't so quiet, you would have gone unheard.
"And you let him."
Eddie looks over at you, his own confusion writing itself on his face. He pinches his cigar between his fingers and takes one more breath before dropping it to the ground and stamping it out. "What?" he asks.
You bite your bottom lip for a moment before releasing it to speak again. "You let him."
Eddie watches you, but he doesn't say anything. You take it as a sign to continue as you stare down at your hands. "You and I both know you could take him, but he hardly ever comes out with a scratch." You look up at him, your face fallen.
"You let him."
Eddie sighs. His body goes slack as he releases some of the tension to stand up straight. His shoulders slump and he drops his arms to his side, then places them in his back pockets.
He shrugs, "Maybe I do."
His confession isn't something you expect. Your frown deepens and you tilt your head to the side. You don't look upset in regards to anger or disappointment — you aren't. You look...sad.
"Eddie," you mutter. Your voice is hardly a whisper as you speak to him. You try to get him to sit back down as you pat the spot next to you, but he's not having it.
He waves his hands in front of his face and shakes his head. "No, no," he breathed. "Don't do that..." He looks back at you with anything but the sweet smile you're accustomed to seeing. The sweet smile you already miss dearly.
"Y'know what?" Eddie sighs and checks his watch, dropping his hand to his side, "I gotta go pick up Dustin. I'll see you later, Blue. 'Kay? Bye."
He grabs a hold of his lunchbox and turns on his heel, leaving you alone in his little hideout. Even as you call after him, he doesn't turn around as he disappears.
You sit there. Alone. You feel the tears on your face before you realize you're crying, dropping your face in your hands.
And you just sit there.
Alone.
~
"Hey, boys."
Eddie pulls his trailer door open to see Tanner and his lackeys. They look pissed. Eddie internally sighs, shrugging his shoulders, "Unfortunately, we're not scheduled for one more day."
Tanner climbs the last step, intruding on Eddie's space as he gets in his face. "What did you tell her, freak?" he spits. His face is red with anger, and Eddie has to remind himself not to taunt him. You told him not to, so he will try his best.
"Freak, it's always the same name. Get creative, buddy," he rolls his eyes.
He failed.
Eddie is caught off guard for just a moment when Tanner shoves him up against the wall, his arm pressing into his throat as his friends follow them into the trailer, closing the door behind them. "What did you tell her?" Tanner urges.
Eddie rolls his eyes again. He can't help it. It's in his nature.
Or maybe he's reaching for something.
"Tell who what? You're gonna have to be more specific, Foul. Sorry, Fowler." Tanner pulls his arm back in a balled fist. As soon as he goes for the punch, Eddie is able to shove himself out of the way before it lands. Tanner's fist collides with the wall and he groans.
"Oh!" Eddie exclaims, a taunting smile on his face as he moves some hair from his face. "A swing and a miss!" Tanner turns around and is met with a hard fist to his face. The punch is hard enough to break the skin, and, despite the throb in his knuckles, it is such a nice feeling to get a hit in.
Tanner's body is jerked to the side by the hit and Eddie can't help but laugh drunkenly. While his back is turned, the other guys come up behind Eddie, holding him by his arms. Eddie twists around to break free, shoving them both back.
When Tanner returns, wrapping his arm around Eddie's throat in a chokehold, Eddie drops his weight. The jock nearly stumbles and Eddie shoves his elbow into his ribs. Tanner's grip loosens and Eddie wiggles free, kneeing him in the stomach.
Eddie looks almost maniacal staring down at Tanner. The smile on his face is huge and his eyes are wild. After being continuously beat up, it feels good to get a few hits in. But his relief is short-lived because, when the other two grab him again, they force him to his knees and hold him down from behind.
Eddie can't move. Each guy has an arm on his shoulder and his arm twisted behind his back. He grimaces at the pain that stings in his arms. Tanner finds his footing again after recovering, stumbling over to Eddie.
Eddie braces himself right as Tanner's fist collides with his cheek, and he doesn't leave it at that. His fists are insistent, finding purchase on whatever they can as Eddie takes each blow. His face burns, his eyes are watering and his cuts are reopening to accompany any new ones.
Getting his ass kicked is starting to become a little annoying.
When Tanner stops, Eddie's hand is hanging low as his hair creates a curtain around his face. Blood drips onto the carpet underneath him and Eddie sighs, knowing he'd have to try and clean it up before Wayne gets home and worries about him.
He worries enough.
Tanner huffs and nods to one of the other guys, who grips tightly on dark locks of Eddie's hair to force him to look up. He looks horrible. Tanner takes a hold of a fistful of Eddie's Led Zeppelin shirt.
"She tried to dump me," Tanner says. "I don't know what the hell you said to her, and, quite frankly, I don't care."
Eddie cannot help but smile, a large but weak grin that blooms from the knowledge that you've finally dumped Tanner's ass. He chuckles, a sound that comes from deep in his throat.
He's cut off by another punch. He yells a little, more out of frustration than pain. "Stay away from my girlfriend, freak. Or I'll kill you," Tanner demands. Eddie mumbles something out, some semblance of words Tanner couldn't quite understand. "What did you say?"
Eddie looks at Tanner with unfocused eyes and a weak smirk, "She's not...your girlfriend."
Tanner's fist clenches at Eddie's words. But before he can put an action to his anger, he suddenly stops and smiles, beginning to laugh at something. "What? You want her?" Eddie is surprised by that response and his smirk falls.
Tanner laughs again. This time, his friends join in. "Is that it — get rid of me so you can have her to yourself?" When Eddie doesn't respond, Tanner lets go of his shirt and kneels down on one knee to see him better. He speaks in a hushed voice, like he is conveying a secret. "You think that if you'll impress her enough, she'll drop her panties for you?"
Eddie scowls, curling his lip in disgust. He leans forward as much as he can, invading Tanner's space now. "Go to hell, fucker," he spits lowly.
Tanner laughs again. "Oh, boys," he looks up at them for a moment. "The Munson freak likes my girl! You think he's got a chance?"
They both laugh like idiots, shaking their heads. "Not a chance in hell."
Tanner grips Eddie's shirt again. "You hear that?" He examines his face, his cocky grin turning into a sour smirk. "Not a chance in hell."
Eddie clenches his teeth, moving his foot forward and yanking the boys forward slightly. "She's not your girlfriend!"
~
"Eddie!"
Dustin knocks on the trailer door, his fist pounding repeatedly against it to draw the attention of his metal friend. Mike and Lucas are flanking him, shaking their heads as their arms cross tightly over their chests. His van is in the front, so he must be home. "Eddie, come on! We biked all the way over here — you never showed up for the campaign!"
When no response comes, Dustin rolls his eyes and shoves through the door. "Eddie, come on–!" He stops short as he walks into the trailer. "Eddie!" he screams, his voice cracking horribly as he rushes over to him.
"What the hell happened?" Mike exclaims as they walk in after Dustin.
Eddie's lying on the floor. His body is still and he looks like he just got the absolute shit beat out of him. Because he did.
Dustin drops to his knees and shakes him, trying to make sure he isn't dead. Eddie groans, shaking his head lazily as he raises a hand weakly to wave Dustin away. He wasn't even unconscious, he just didn't want to get up.
"Son of a bitch, Eddie!" Dustin exclaims. "What happened? You look like you got beat up by a frickin' bear!"
He shakes his head and winces, raising his hand slowly to his lips to motion for Dustin to stop talking. He's got a bleeding headache, and Dustin's screeching voice doesn't help to make it any better. Dustin doesn't listen. "Who did this?"
Eddie knows that the only way to get Dustin to stop talking is by answering him, so he tries to. He mumbles quietly, speaking any louder will make his head hurt even more, "Blue... Ex..."
Dustin doesn't understand much except the fact that he had said your name. "Call Blue?" He turns to Mike and Lucas. "Call Blue!"
Eddie wants to protest, but he can't. Moving his lips hurts and speaking sounds far too loud in his head, so he simply sighs and lays there. Dustin doesn't let him stay where he is, instead heaving him to his feet against Eddie's wishes to sit him up on the couch.
~
You throw Eddie's door open and find him sitting on the couch with Dustin, who's holding a cloth to his face. "Eds!" you exclaim as you rush over, kneeling in front of him as you take his face in your hands.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," Eddie tries to convince you. It doesn't work.
Lucas and Mike are gone. You had instructed them to go find Hopper and tell him what happened so Tanner was taken care of. You'd told Dustin to stay behind to clean Eddie up. You turn to him and give him a grateful look, "Thank you, Dusty. I can take it from here."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," you tell him. "I've been bandaging this one's wounds for years. I've got it." Dustin agrees hesitantly and leaves to go join his friends. You're left alone with Eddie, whose eyes never leave you.
You stand and go to the kitchen to get a fresh bowl of warm water. You grab the first aid kit from under the sink and an ice pack before you return to his side with a fresh cloth. You cup his face again, and your heart aches at the sight of him.
Dustin's cleaned his face up a little better, so some of his wounds are already beginning to heal. "Eddie..." you whisper, swallowing the lump in your throat. He raises a hand to gently wrap around your wrist, trying to offer you a smile.
"Sorry," he mutters.
You chuckle a little, "What are you apologizing for?" You bring the wet cloth to his face and begin to continue cleaning his wounds. "You're the one who got his ass kicked," you tell him. "For me, no less..." You frown again.
You set the cloth down and grab a hair tie from your wrist, gathering his hair up to tie it away from his face. He lets you, sighing at the feel of your hands combing through his hair. It feels good. Like heaven. Like you.
His eyes are level with your throat while you tie his hair up and he freezes. He raises his hand slowly, and his fingers whisper over your neck...where there is a slight bruise. You still at the feeling of his fingers on your throat.
Anger flares within Eddie at the sight. His breathing picks up a little and he turns his gaze away from the marks on your neck. "What did he do?"
You swallow hard and sigh, dabbing at his face again. "When I broke up with him, he grabbed me by my throat. It's nothing. Worry about your bruises, not mine."
"I don't need to worry about my bruises," he says. "I don't care about my bruises, I care about yours."
You give him a reassuring smile, "I'm fine. Now stop moving." Eddie huffs but obeys, allowing you to continue caring for him. After a while, he's already looking much better. His cuts aren't bleeding anymore, they've already clotted to start healing.
You bring the wrapped ice pack to his face, holding it up to his bruises. He sighs against it, bringing a hand to your wrist to hold it there. His thumb strokes gentle circles over the veins in your wrist.
After a while of silence, you begin to apply some cream to his face so you can begin to bandage him like you've been doing for the past two weeks. You sigh and shake your head, more at yourself than at home, "I wish you'd told me about all of this sooner. I mean, why were you getting into fights with Tanner anyway?"
You glance at his face, "He's a dumbass jock with dumbass jock friends, and you're my best friend. I'd always choose you over him." His heart lifts at those words. You place band-aids over his cuts. You've gotten quicker at this without losing your softness. Part of him wishes you didn't need to practice, but the other part of him is glad it's you who does it.
You continue your rant. "There's no reason to fight over me. If you'd told me he was the one kicking your ass," you try to say it as a joke, but it doesn't land right, "I would have dumped him so long ago."
You return your hands to your lap, holding the ice pack in your hands again as your shoulders slump. Eddie's eyes are watching you, hanging on to every word like gold. You lick your bottom lip and chew on it for a moment before you shrug your shoulders once, "Why didn't you?"
Eddie sighs and rolls his head away to stare forward. He thinks of a response for a while, shrugging as you had. "I don't know. Guess I..." he trails off, "just wanted to feel something other than this...sinking dread." He raises his hand to his chest, rubbing it lightly as if to demonstrate something.
Your heart sinks at his words. You move your hand to grasp his. You expected for him to move away, but he sets his over yours instead. "What dread?" you ask quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He shrugs, turning back at you for a moment, bruised eye glistening with an emotion you couldn't quite place. He takes your hand and plays with your fingers absent-mindedly. "Well..." he sighs and faces in front of himself again. He talks slowly, "There's this girl I like. She's super nice, always taking care of people, 'specially me. Not to mention, she's beautiful, just absolutely gorgeous."
You can't help but smile, your heart pounding in your chest. He continues, smiling now that he's put a smile on your lips. He frowns after a moment before he keeps talking, "But she wastes her time with asshole guys who couldn't give a shit about her the way I do." He shrugs again, looking down at your hands, which you've intertwined.
"But I know I'd never have a chance with her," he mumbles. "Not a chance in hell."
The words echo in his mind as he swipes his tongue over the cut on his lip. He then shakes his head, as if to get out of his thoughts so he can speak again. "So I fought her boyfriend and let him win because at least I was feeling something other than the dread of knowing... I'd never get the girl."
You are both silent for a long time after that. You take in his words, your heart pounding sadly in your chest as you listen to him. He turns his head to look into your eyes, his thumbs continue to brush the back of your palm.
He offers a smile, albeit a small one, and speaks again. "There was this one time when we were hanging out," he says. "She leaned in and she...she put her head on my chest," he places his free hand on the spot he is referring to, a distant smile on his lips, "and she told me she was worried about me."
He looks off with glazed eyes, like he was reliving that moment as he spoke. You set your head on his shoulder, and he rests his over yours. "I wanted to kiss her," he confesses, biting his whole bottom lip and shaking his head with a sigh. "I've been wanting to kiss her for quite a while now."
You look up at him, your thumb absent-mindedly stroking his own hand. You bring it up to your lips and kiss the back of it, drawing his eyes to you. "You ever tried..." you trail off, "I dunno, asking the girl if she liked you?" You shrug, "You might be surprised by what you learn."
He smiles. It's almost like that large grin that lights up his whole face...but it doesn't quite light up his whole face. You can see the hope in his eyes, though, and it's enough to melt your heart. "You think she'd say yes?" he asks, his eyes trailing over your face and stopping at your lips more than once.
You shrug a shoulder, "I think... she might've been wanting to kiss you for quite a while now, too." You pull your lip between your teeth and stare down at his hands, which you are now playing with as you twirl his rings around his fingers. "You could ask her and find out."
Eddie is really awkward now in the way that he smiles and looks between you and anything else in the trailer. He nods, "Okay, um, well..." he mumbles. "I think I might. I'll definitely ask her..." he's nervous now. You laugh at him, your cheeks are burning. "I'll ask her out someplace and, um..."
"Eddie, just kiss me."
He doesn't say anything, he just pushes forward and crashes his mouth against yours. He places his hand on your cheek, cradling your face in his palm as he tastes your lips. You melt against him as he does you. You can taste the metallic tang of his split lip, but you don't care.
The kiss is comforting. It feels like Eddie, your Eddie. It makes you breathless and perfectly content at the same time. Your body feels like it's shivering as you cradle his neck in your hands.
You shift your body so you're straddling him. It gives you a better angle so you don't have to turn your neck to kiss him. His other hand moves so he cups your face with both. You pull away after a moment, catching your breath despite the fact that you aren't out of it.
The air between you is filled with nothing but the sounds of your breaths blowing against one another. You smile as you finally open your eyes. "I've been in love with you since you started calling me Blue," you confess, your thumbs stroking his skin.
He mirrors your smile. "I've been in love with you ever since you tripped in blue paint and completely ruined the theater room floor." You both laugh at that. You dip your head down to capture his lips again, taking in a deep breath against him.
When you pull back again, he mutters something under his breath about how your kisses feel good. "Hey," you whisper, licking your lips, "promise me something?"
"Yeah," he nods.
"No more fights," you tell him. You pull back just enough to see his face clearer, swiping your thumbs gently over his cheeks, over some band-aids. "And if he picks one first...don't lose."
Eddie smirks, it's one that screams trouble and makes you smile. He leans forward and kisses you again, a quick kiss that he licks his lips after. "Promise."