#He can't handle the cold so he dresses in multiple layers of clothing and looks like a baby seal

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

Blorbo from my brain. I'd so go for a drink with him. And I don't even drink

[grrlsoft]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ love like blood : eddie munson

summary : when your best friend Eddie doesn't show up to drive you home from school, you assume that he's just gone to impromptu Hellfire Club meeting. but little do you know, his reasons for being late are much, much worse.

pairing : Eddie Munson x gn!reader

author's note : eddie angst. thats the tweet. also this is when eddie and reader r just friends but are crushing on each other lolz so no established relationship yet (pls eddie deserves someone who will care for him sobs)

song inspo is love like blood by killing joke !!

warnings : angst with a fluffy ending, mentions of injuries and blood, bullying

you take a long, deep breath, inhaling the smell of damp leaves and overgrown grass. it's fall in Hawkins, one of your favorite seasons, but winter is soon on the rise. large, looming clouds fill the gray sky and block out the sun, giving everything a cold, hazy hue. you shiver as the wind blows through your sweater (although you had made sure to wear multiple layers, the wind persisted), and you check your watch. 

it’s 3:47 pm and Eddie is late to meet up with you outside of Hawkins High, something that he does every day. it's sort of become a ritual for the two of you, something you never break unless one of you has pre-established plans.

you don't mind the delay much, as he is usually busy talking with his friends after school hours or perhaps getting a talking to by a teacher, but him being this late is rather unusual, especially since the two of you had made plans to hang out. you rock back and forth on your feet as you clutch your textbooks in your arms. it's a nervous habit. 

the inside of your nose starts to burn by how frigid the air is becoming so you nuzzle your chin into the collar of your sweater. the janitor passes you and your worry increases. 

maybe he's at a Hellfire Club meeting, you think to yourself, one that he didn't tell you about. that would be unlikely, since Eddie can't help but tell you every single thing that he does, but it's not like you're required to know what he's doing at what time. he's not obligated to constantly update you (even though you sort of like it when he does).

as well as being worried about his absence, him being missing leaves you without a ride home from school. the two of you were planning to go to the record store after school today too, but if he wasn't gonna show…

you walk home after a few more minutes of waiting. you don't want to catch a cold just because Eddie had a different obligation that you didn't know about. maybe he was in detention.

but something about it didn't seem right. it seemed unusual for him. 

you shouldn't worry about it, you tell yourself. he can handle himself. he's a big boy.

the walk home is boring and long but you enjoy looking at the red and yellow leaves that blow off the tall trees. you think about halloween and what costume you'd like to wear (as well as wondering if Eddie would want to dress up with you too). the fall air always brings thoughts of costumes and candy to your mind.

once you finally reach your house, you take refuge in comfier clothes and make yourself some popcorn as an after school snack. you turn on the TV and find that there's nothing playing that interests you at the moment, so you instead pad up to your room and put on a record. you sink into bed, already feeling sleep beginning to overtake you. you have completely forgotten about the math assignment you need to do, but that is the farthest thing from your mind. 

you snuggle up in your white bedsheets and the sound of your record seems farther and farther away until a loud series of knocks disturbs your almost peaceful rest. you blink your bleary, distantly sleepy eyes open and tumble out of bed, heading downstairs. 

the knocking gets louder and sort of frantic and you shout a quick just a second! and open the door. 

you rub your eyes as the fading light of day blinds you momentarily. you then look at who's standing on your doorstep. 

"Eddie?" you say, unable to mask your horror. 

he's half leaning on your doorframe, a bloodied hand resting on the trimmed, white wood. his lip is split and his nose is smeared with blood, his face pale and ashen. his right eye is hidden by a grisly, purple splotch, soon turning a whole myriad of other colors. it reminds you of a watercolor project you helped him do for art class. 

his brown eyes look at you sadly, blankly. your mouth is wide open.

you don't say anything. he doesn't say anything either. 

"jesus christ, Eddie, I-" you search for words to say to him, but your mind is still trying to make sense of the situation. all you can manage to do is take his arm carefully and usher him inside. 

"here, come in," you say as steadily as you possibly can. he follows you slowly, and you're worried that he's limping.

his eyes are trained on the carpeted floor and you close the door behind you. he stands in your front walkway and is still quiet. you open and close your mouth, stammering. 

"Eddie," you finally say his name with all the gentleness in the world, "Eddie, what happened?" 

you touch his arm delicately and frown disheartedly when he flinches.

he continues to be eerily silent, but his eyes keep moving from the floor to your face apprehensively. he blinks a few times and shakes his head. 

"just some stupid basketball assholes, that's all," he finally responds, and it's like a breath of fresh air to hear his voice, no matter how hoarse it is. you furrow your brows. 

"they… did this to you?" you ask, and he nods. you clench your fists and feel your stomach churn with anger. all that time you had been waiting for him, he had been getting beaten up. your eyes burn.

"..why?" you manage, and Eddie gives you an almost unnoticeable shrug. 

"doesn't matter," he replies. you sigh, knowing how untrue his statement was. but you don't want to pry, as it would probably make him upset. 

"uh, here, let me go get you an ice pack or something," you say suddenly as you scamper off to the kitchen, opening the door of your freezer frantically. Eddie watches how desperate you are to help him and it gives him a funny feeling in his stomach.

you find one, icy and blue, and you hand it to him. he takes it in his bruised hand yet doesn't move. 

"how about- how about you go up to my room while I look for some medicine or something for you," you muster a smile. you watch nervously as he nods, then makes the trek up the stairs to your room. 

you hurriedly inspect your cabinets for some medicine, opening and closing doors haphazardly, not caring if the contents inside fall over. you finally return to your bedroom with a little white bottle of tylenol, a glass of water, and your mother's first aid kit that you have never used. you're no nurse, but you want to make sure that Eddie is alright. it's the only thing that matters to you.

the sight of him slumped on the edge of your bed makes your heart break, and you carefully sit down next to him. he doesn't meet your gaze, his hands gripping the ice pack you had given him so tightly that you think it might break. his knuckles are stained with crimson blood. 

"hi," you greet him, pressing your arm against his own. his fingers brush against your leg. "I got you water and some meds."

he takes the glass of water, putting the white pills on his tongue and he downs it in no time. he gives the glass back to you and you set it on your bedside table. 

the room is quiet save for the sound of the chilly wind blowing from your open window. your heart is beating out of your chest. you put your hand on top of Eddie's own and you can feel him shaking. he stills for a moment, your touch comforting and warm.

you don't say anything but you look over at the brown haired boy. you brush your thumb against the inside of his hand and he suddenly turns his gaze to you, his eyes unsure and almost fearful. 

"sorry that I-" his voice cracks, a sound so incredibly foreign coming from him, "I didn't mean to-" 

a few tears slip down his pale cheeks and he hiccups. he turns away from you. 

"god, this is so fucking stupid." he manages, brown eyes watery. he sniffles. 

your eyes go wide, surprised by his sudden, tearful state. 

for the first time in the entirety of your friendship with Eddie Munson, you were seeing him cry. and it startles you. 

you snap yourself out of your momentary shock as Eddie covers his face with a bruised hand, his sniffles growing more frequent. you stammer and move closer to him. 

"oh Eddie, Eddie it's alright," you console the distraught boy as you rest your hand on his forearm. "it's okay, you don't have to cry." 

a gasp leaves your throat involuntarily when Eddie wraps his arms around your waist and buries his head in the crook of your neck. he pulls you into him, your chest now flush with his own. you can feel the wetness of his tears staining your skin as well as his bloodied hands clutching the fabric of your shirt. he sobs loudly and you reach a loving hand up to rub his back. you rest your head on his own and listen to him cry, his body shaking.

it feels strange to see him like this - so small and vulnerable. Eddie was all talk, all swift turns on the heel and side eyes with mischievous smirks. but this was so much different.

it makes him seem a little more human, you think to yourself. it makes you understand him better.

you run your hands through his hair and trace your fingers along his spine as he sobs into you. you're quiet, not daring to speak in fear somehow saying the wrong thing, and also because you don't think that's what he needs. sometimes people don't want to be talked to; they just want to be held.

and you do this with proficiency. you are careful with him like he's a delicate little thing made of porcelain or glass. eventually his crying softens and his sniffles decrease in number. he sits in your arms silently for a long while and you let him. you would wait like this for hours if that's what he wanted. you think that the two of you should do this more often, hopefully under nicer circumstances.

you blink when he pulls away from you, but he keeps his face close to your own. he drags his knuckles across his face, wiping the wetness from his cheeks. the blood of his hands mixes with his tears.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles almost shamefully. you rest your hands on his knees. 

"don't apologize," you reassure him kindly, "you don't need to." 

Eddie looks at you with wide eyes and laces his fingers with your own. 

"thank you for being so-" he searches for the right words to say, "so good to me. so nice and everything." 

you smile at him and your eyes are filled with adoration. you have a million things you wish to say but now is not the time. you squeeze his hand while also making sure not to squeeze too hard.

"thank you for coming to me," you reply, "for trusting me." 

Eddie smiles a sad smile in return and you apprehensively raise your hand to his face, but you pause before your palm meets his cheek. 

"can I..?" you murmur and Eddie nods at you with a sort of dreamy, unreadable expression.

"please," he whispers and you almost melt. your soft hand grazes the battered skin of his face as you inspect his bruises. 

"god," you whisper, frustration and anger lacing your tone, "can't believe those assholes can get away with doing things like this to people." 

Eddie shrugs and doesn't look at you, he's far too nervous to. "that's what happens when you're rich, I guess." 

"I know, but," you sigh, not knowing how to fully articulate all the annoyance and sadness you have within your chest, "it's just so unfair."

you suddenly withdraw your hand when you accidentally touch the bruised area around Eddie's eye, causing him to flinch, but he grabs your wrist before you can fully pull away.

"no-" he begins, his eyes looking deep into yours before he swallows thickly with nervousness, "don't. it feels- feels nice." 

you blink owlishly at him but you respect his wishes, bestowing your touch to its rightful place. you chuckle as Eddie sighs into your palm, closing his eyes. his skin feels warm where your fingers graze it.

"I still have to clean you up," you murmur as you gaze at his bloodied lips and nose. you wipe away some of the blood from his lip. he chases your touch with what you almost think to be a kiss, but maybe you're seeing things. Eddie's eyes open and he looks softly at you. 

"well, you better get to it, then," he smiles, a smile that makes your heart skip a beat. "unless you wanna sit here and touch my face for forever." 

you laugh and he laughs too, the two of you slipping back into the easiness of your friendship. the tension has begun to fade away. 

"you were the one who wanted it so bad," you tilt your head and grin. he raises a brow at you. 

"you were the one who brought that whole first aid kit up here and still haven't opened it," he says pointedly, "are you gonna let me bleed out, or what?" 

you laugh and the noise is angelic. you reach for the white box and Eddie gazes at you all the while. he wants to touch you again, or rather for you to touch him - to rest his head on your shoulder and have you thread your fingers through his hair, but he's far too nervous to do so or even ask. 

so he doesn't do anything at all. he just sits and stares at you while you grab your first aid kit, not really listening as you talk about how you've never bandaged anyone up like this besides yourself. the light of your lamp casts a warm glow on the delicate features of your face. he wonders what your lips would feel like against his own bruised ones.

a part of him wishes he'd get injured more often, just so you'd be there to fix him.