Stories Untold

(1) Chief it up, Chief

    credit to jxpper on tumblr for the prompt that inspired this <3

Hopper raked his fingers through his hair in exasperation as he stared down at the brunette woman in front of him. "I said no, Joyce," his tone was stern; serious.

    "Oh, come on, Hop!" Joyce whined, eyes staring up at him all wide; almost childlike. "I called you, because of all people, I thought you'd participate." She murmured, clearly frustrated.

     "Joyce." He could probably create a drinking game based on the amount of times he says her name in such tone. "I know you're looking to take the edge off, hell, I don't blame you. You've been through absolute hell, Horowitz." She didn't acknowledge that his use of her high school nickname made her heart skip a beat. "This ain't the way to do it." Jim concluded, though he knew he didn't really prove much of a point.

    Her eyebrow furrowed as her chocolate orbs piercingly stared him down. "Hop, it's fucking pot, like two joints worth. If that." Joyce snorted, receiving a small glare from Hopper. "We'd smoke more than that together during lunchtime back in the day." His thoughts drifted back to their senior year, reminiscing.

[]
hawkins high school; 1959.

    "You're a damn hog, Hopper," an eighteen-year-old Joyce plucked the marijuana cigarette from her friend's lips and replaced them with her own, taking small puffs. "Hop the Hog." She mused, ridiculously giggling at her own comment.

    Hopper's baby blues studied the beautiful girl in front of him and holy shit, was she beautiful. His mind wandered as he began to think not-so-platonic thoughts about his platonic with a capital 'p' relationship with Joyce. "Horowitz the..." Mind fuzzy, Hopper's usually quick-wit failed him with a sarcastic retort to return. Her eyelids drooped lazily as they always had during what they nicknamed their "lunchtime light-ups", his would typically turn red which had gotten him caught on a few occasions. Joyce's eyes heavy, little giggles escaped her pouty lips. She slid the third joint between her lips, the lips which he just couldn't seem to drop his gaze from, her zippo sparking it as she hummed softly.

    "The what?" She smirked as he observed her, a wave of confidence had hit her as he took in her appearance.

    "Horowitz the hottie," Jim mumbled, leaning forward and planting a gentle kiss on those lips he couldn't seem to get enough of. One arm snaked around his neck, tugging him closer as she held the joint between her fingers. Friends could share a good kiss from time to time, right?

    "Hey, assholes!" A deep voice caused the two teenagers to jolt apart with flushed cheeks, the spliff the two shared now abandoned and lost on the ground. Mr. Cooper, or the "bleacher buster", he was labeled by many students, stood at the door to the cafeteria with dissatisfaction painted all over his face.

    "Run?" Hopper proposed with a small grin, his hand extending out to her. Without hesitation, Joyce had clasped their hands together and was trotting along side Jim; their mischievous laughter bellowing.

[]

    Deeply inhaling, Hopper removed his hat and joined her on the couch. "You gonna spark it or me?" Jim inquired.

    His change of heart surprised her to say the least. Jim Hopper usually made a decision and stuck with it, no matter who disagreed. Joyce Byers was unaware that besides El, she had the power to influence his decisions. "I don't want to like... peer pressure you, or anything, Jim." She started slowly. "I just thought it'd be relaxing and maybe fun like it was when we were kids. It's not like Karen would join me, even though she'll drink until she blacks out." Her eyes rolled thinking about the negative stigma Karen Wheeler associated with marijuana.

    "Weed has never made me provoke a fight or wake up next to some random woman," he shrugged. "Never had a hangover from the shit either. Spark it, Horowitz." Hopper flashed a boyish grin as she did so, gently inhaling a few times before nudging it over to him.

    "Go on, chief it up, Chief." Joyce teased.

    Jim chuckled with smoke in his lungs, a few hoarse coughs erupting as smoke escaped his lips. "What's so funny? I know it wasn't that." Joyce eyed him suspiciously.

    "Chief of police smoking pot, ain't that like, a paradox?" His boisterous laughter was music to her ears, calming any nerves that lingered within her. "I think that's what it's called— shit, I don't know. I'm too stoned to think." Joyce giggled as she watched Hopper slowly shake out of his gruff, serious demeanor and into his infectiously goofy self from their high school years.

   They continued to passed the joint until it burnt their fingers to hold, mindlessly staring at the boring program on television. They'd slowly shifted into a more cozy position, Hopper's arm draped across her shoulders as she leaned against him with her feet curled at her sides. Never had the pair ever felt so content, safe, and stoned.