#also my 'c' key stopped working while i was writing this aksljdngfkl

[augustslippedavvay]

when i see you, the whole world reduces to just that room (eddie munson)

summary: after what feels like the longest year of your life, you’re ready to ring in 1987 in the wheelers’ basement with your closest friends, one of whom you’ve begun to think of as a little more than that - and you’re starting to suspect he might have, too.

author’s note: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! idk i’m supposed to be finishing like, eight other wips but i decided to spur of the moment write a really self indulgent new year’s eve blurb bc why not!!! i’m feeling festive!!! i hope u like <33 also i scouted TIRELESSLY for lyrics for a good title for this before i settled on this one from ‘don’t delete the kisses’ by wolf alice - i looked through like a dozen ‘new year’s kiss’-esque playlists to find a good song LMAOOO

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader word count: 2k <3 warnings: none just fluffy nonsense, mutual pining, maybe a lil angst bc of the events of season 4 

“I swear to all that is holy, if you two don’t make out tonight, I’m–”

“It’s not that simple, Buckley, okay?”

“It totally is that simple, Eddie! You’ve been crushing for ages, just kiss her already!”

“Everything alright in here?”

Eddie and Robin look up at where you’re leaning against the doorway, both of their faces pale, like you’ve caught them in the act of something reprehensible, but really they’re just standing in front of the kitchen sink talking in hushed voices. Which, in retrospect, isn’t any less suspicious. You cock an eyebrow. “I heard shouting.”

“Yeah, fine,” Robin says, smiling, then brushes past you on her way back to the basement. “Eddie and I were just discussing some very important business. I’ll be downstairs. Happy new year!”

“Happy new year,” you murmur, pressing a hand against her arm as she passes. You glance up at Eddie, frozen on the other side of the room, hesitating for a moment before stepping three paces closer. “You okay?”

Eddie hums, his back still turned to you. His Iron Maiden tee rides up on one side, exposing the tanned plane of his back as he reaches up to grab the champagne flutes Mrs. Wheeler keeps in the cupboard above the sink, where really nobody can reach them except the big kids, and now Mike, the beanpole. You press a thumb to your bottom lip contemplatively, take a small, shuddering breath.

“Are you sure? It sounded like you and Robin–”

“Yeah, sweetheart, all’s fine,” Eddie says, turning and gesturing towards himself with three glasses in his hand. “Can you help me grab the rest of these? Told Harrington I’d make sure they were ready for midnight.”

“Of course,” you murmur, taking the ones already in his hands into yours, your knuckles brushing only briefly against his, and watch him grab four more by the stem, wincing only slightly when they clink together. He turns to face you, meeting your eye momentarily and when you go to open your mouth again, he raises his eyebrows and angles his head in the direction of the basement. You sigh. “Yeah, sure, let’s get these downstairs.”

As you descend the stairs behind Eddie, you watch Robin, Steve, Vickie, and Nancy peel themselves apart, each of them giving you their own wary glances, heading off into different corners of the basement, busying themselves and avoiding your gaze. You stop abruptly when you reach the bottom of the stairs, try to cross your arms as far as they’ll go with the champagne flutes in your grasp.

“Seriously, you guys, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing!” You shoot a glare at Robin, who crosses her heart with her fingers. “Nothing’s going on. Swear.”

“You’re all being so weird, and upstairs, in the kitchen, you and Eddie, like, practically jumped out of your skin when I walked in the room, and now this?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Robin insists, glancing sideways at Steve. “We, uh. We’ve all just been trying to convince Eddie to apply to work at that tiny new record store going in in the spring. He thinks it’s a long shot, but we all know he’s a shoe-in. He’s being too stubborn about it, honestly.”

Eddie scoffs, and you frown, but resume your descent, handing the champagne flutes to Steve, who sets them on a table set up in the furthest corner of the room. You glance at Eddie, suspiciously quiet, who’s ditched his own glasses and is now busying himself trying to figure out the TV.

“Fine, whatever.”

“We can have champagne tonight, too, right?” Max pipes up from the couch, and you narrow your eyes at her. She’s clearly in on whatever the others are up to, changing the subject like that. She holds her arms up defensively.

“No, Mayfield, everyone’s parents would kill me,” Steve scoffs, prompting some muttered insults from Max. “Hey, don’t roll your eyes at me. I’m serious.”

Protests pop up around the room, all of the kids suddenly offended at the prospect that they’re too young to have champagne with the rest of you, though they hadn’t been bothered until Max brought it up. 

“I mean, I think, like, half a glass wouldn’t hurt?”

Steve looks at Nancy, eyes wide, a bewildered look passing across his face. “Nance, I thought I’d at least have you on my side!”

Jonathan laughs and throws an arm around Nancy’s shoulder. He shrugs. “What’s the harm, Harrington? Nancy’s parents are out of town, we’re all just gonna crash here anyway. Live a little, dude.”

“Yeah, Harrington,” Max grins, and Steve shoots her a warning glance. 

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Steve says, glancing up at you. “Give me a hand again?”

Plastic cups of champagne are passed around, and you watch as everyone experiences it for the first time. El is sniffing the drink, not sure what to make of it, glancing up at Will, who seems not to mind the taste. Dustin, Lucas, and Mike are all watching Max for her reaction, and when she takes her first sip she immediately pulls a face, disgusted. 

“God, it’s so…dry?”

Steve snorts. “It’s champagne, Mayfield! Get used to it!” 

On the TV, everyone is preparing for the ball to drop. Jonathan grabs Nancy, Vickie grabs Robin, and you watch all of your friends hug and preemptively wish one another a happy new year. After the year you’ve all had, you can’t help but tear up a little at the sight of everyone you love safe and happy and together in the same room.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie whispers, standing at your shoulder with a full flute of champagne in his outstretched hand. You thank him and tap the glass against his own, watching him over its rim as you take your first sip. Eddie clears his throat, one hand clasped around the back of his neck. “You wouldn’t by any chance, I don’t know, want to be my new year’s kiss?”

You swallow the sparkling wine, trying to discern from the look on his face whether he’s being serious or not. His brown eyes are so bright, even in the dimly-lit basement.

When you realize he’s not joking, you take a step closer to him. “Yeah, yes, Eddie,” you breathe, one hand pressed against his chest through his tee shirt. Your hand holding your drink drops to your side, and Eddie clasps one hand around it. 

“Yeah?” He says, grinning, and you nod one more time for good measure. One hand against the side of your face, Eddie lets out a long breath, his cheeks flushing. “You’re sure?”

“Munson,” you whisper into the space between your open mouths, and as the countdown starts, everyone in the room chants along. Five, four, three– “Kiss me.”

Eddie hardly hesitates, and when the clock strikes midnight, he presses his lips to yours before you’ve even had the chance to close your eyes. His mouth is soft, his body so warm. His nose bumps against yours when you shift your head to deepen the kiss, which he welcomes for a moment before pulling away.

You all cheer, ringing in the new year, and now your frostbitten cheeks mirror his own, laughing as you catch Steve’s eye.

“It’s about time,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, but it’s playful, and you glance up at Eddie, watching as a smile makes its way onto his face, and you start to smile, too. You shove Steve’s shoulder then tuck your face into Eddie’s neck, who wraps one protective arm around you.

“Be careful aiming that attitude at my girl, Harrington,” Eddie teases, palming the back of your neck, pulling your face back to look him in the eye. His gaze is drawn down toward your lips, still wet from his, and kiss-reddened, for only a moment before it meets yours once more. The affection you’re faced with almost knocks your knees out from under you.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you respond, leaning forward enough to push your nose against his. Eddie grins.

“He’s right, you know,” Eddie whispers, and you nod. He is right. “Been wantin’ to do that for so long, you’ve got no clue. Just never plucked up the courage.”

“Is this what all of you were up to tonight? Which one of these hooligans finally convinced you to do it?”

“Um, all of us hooligans, actually,” Steve murmurs, chugging the rest of the champagne in his flute and pulling a face. Robin gives you a guilty look and mouths Sorry! when you aim a halfhearted glare at her. “He was like a lovesick puppy. It was gross, the way he’d moon over you, making eyes at you whenever you turned your back.”

Eddie makes a noise in the back of his throat, shaking his head. “I was not mooning, Harrington.”

“Oh, you were mooning, man. Thank God that’s over.”

“Hey,” you murmur, grinning up at Eddie. “If I tell you I was mooning, too, but I was just better at hiding it, would that make you feel any better?”

“You know what,” Eddie sighs, planting a kiss on your cheek. “That does make me feel a lot better, sweetheart. Thank you.”

“No problem, baby.”

Eddie laughs at the pet name and pushes both hands up under the back of your shirt, pulling you tight against him, one of his thumbs underneath the band of your bra.

“Seriously, should we give you guys the room, or?”

“Shut it, Henderson,” Eddie grumbles, leaning down and pressing his lips back to yours once, twice, three more times. 

You grin against Eddie’s mouth and finally pull back for good, and when he whines, you give him a searing look. “We can continue this when there aren’t minors present, Munson.”

“Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart.”

You begin to make your way around the room, hugging each of your friends close. Wishing everyone a happy new year. Knowing the cost everyone paid to be here today. Thankful to still be alive to hold the people you love. Glancing over at Eddie every once in a while, and finding that he’s already watching you, a sweet, shy smile on his face. 

And if you fall asleep that night on the couch spooning Eddie, waking up in the small hours of the morning to turn him in your arms and kiss him silly, no one else has to know. You pull away from him, lips aching from the memory of his against yours, and click your tongue.

“You really spent all year pining after me?”

“Well, not...all year long.” You give him a knowing look, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and he laughs softly. “Okay, yeah, most of the year. I swear it wasn’t as bad as Harrington made it seem, but you just - you made it really hard not to fall in love with you, sweetheart, what with saving my life, you know,” he whispers, biting his lip, and sucks in one more sharp breath before finishing with, “and all.”

Fondness softens your gaze. 

“You should’ve said something, Eddie,” you murmur, bringing your hand back up to run your knuckles across the side of his face. He preens at your featherlight touch, pursing his lips, his gaze slipping down to your mouth. “You should’ve said something sooner. I would’ve let you kiss me, like, six months ago, if I knew.”

“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “We got a lot of time to make up for.” 

The two of you fall into silence, and Eddie smiles at you, a slow, soft, lover’s smile, meant only for you in the dark of the Wheelers’ den, the unspoken thought that thank God you even can make it up hanging between you. It’s not lost on you that it’s a miracle you’re even holding him it all.

The others are scattered, asleep, elsewhere in the house. All of these people you love, these kids who’ve had to grow up so fast, who’ve all faced the prospect of a terrifying end head-on and found respite in one another after the fact. The strongest, bravest group of humans you’ve ever met. 

You hum, lost in thought, and shift so your face is pressed between Eddie’s neck and his pillow, your mouth against the skin right behind his ear.

“We have all the time in the world, Eddie.”