A/N - This chapter was inspired by Dancing Through Life from Wicked - Part 1. I just feel like Eddie sort of really fits this vibe of not giving a shit about anything, and I like the idea of him meeting this highly-strung, slightly anxious, goody-two-shoes reader and trying to help her actually relax and enjoy herself. I hope you all enjoy it.
When you had initially started working for your uncle, you hadn't really expected anything of note to come from it. Sure, you could make a reasonable amount of money now that you were out of high school. You could spend entire days doing paperwork for him. It should've been one of the most relaxed jobs you could get in a small town like Hawkins.
But then, two weeks after you had started doing the admin, they'd hired a new mechanic in the form of Eddie Munson. There wasn't possibly a more disruptive person they could've chosen, either. When you'd been at school together, Eddie had been one of the loudest, most chaotic guys you'd ever met. He rarely went a full day without making a spectacle of himself. And suddenly, your dream of a quiet job to tide you over had gone flying out the window.
And honestly, it was like Eddie knew that he was driving you crazy and had decided to lean into it. He would linger near your desk between jobs, smudging oil on paperwork, dismantling pens, and just altogether bothering you.
"Eddie," you bit at him one afternoon, after he'd perched himself on the end of your desk, sending a pile of organised invoices cascading off the edge, scattering them across the floor.
"Oops," he murmured, watching with a furrowed brow as you went flying out of your desk chair, leaving it spinning on the spot as you dropped to the floor to recollect the lost paperwork.
Once you had collected them all, slapping them back down on the desk with a glare sent in Eddie's direction, his frown had faded slightly.
He would have to be lying to say he didn't enjoy watching you get all wound up when he was around. It was cute, watching your face get all pinched when he goofed around, the little glitter in your eye telling him that maybe you weren't as pissed off as you would like him to believe you were.
"Oops? Eddie, I've been working on those all day. You just set me back by like 3 hours-"
"It's not a big deal; I can help-"
"It is a big deal," you finally bit at him, and when he glanced back at you, he realised that there wasn't even a hint of joking behind your eyes. "You know, you really need to figure out that some things aren't a joke. My job isn't a joke to me," you pressed on, shaking your head. You glanced up at the clock on the wall. "You've got a customer coming in at 3; you'd better go get everything set up," you added, finally slipping back into your chair and tucking into your desk, already flipping through the invoices he had disorganised.
"Y/N-"
"Go; you've only got 5 minutes until they get here."
Eddie let out a soft sigh, his shoulders dropping as he continued watching you. When you didn't cave and start talking to him again, he pushed off of your desk, standing up to his full height and sloping out of the office.
*Time Skip*
Later that evening, Eddie had reappeared at your desk, freshly showered, his hair a little damp, and back in his own clothes. He was careful to avoid your paperwork this time, hovering awkwardly about a foot away from your workspace.
"Have you got plans this evening?"
You huffed slightly, leaning back in your chair. "I've still got at least another hour of work to get finished-"
"Don't be ridiculous," Eddie huffed, finally gripping the back of the wheeling desk chair and physically dragging you away from your work. "You can finish it tomorrow. Tonight you're coming out with me."
"Eddie, I can't just leave this half finished-"
"What? You think Uncle Carl is going to give you a hard time for leaving a couple of pieces of paperwork for 12 hours?" he teased gently. "The guy adores you, Sweetheart. I'm pretty sure he would rather fire me a thousand times over than ever scold you for anything."
You frowned up at him. "Ed-"
"Just one night. Come on. We'll have fun."
"I'm not sure we have the same idea of what's considered fun," you muttered, finally getting out of your chair and collecting your mug from your desk. You made your way over to the little office kitchen with Eddie trailing you, watching as you carefully began to wash your mug, placing it delicately on the drying rack.
As you turned, you startled, unaware of how close Eddie was standing behind you. "So, what's fun to you?"
"God, I don't know, Eddie," you sighed softly. "But it's a Thursday night-"
"There's this bar I go to on the other side of town," Eddie finally confessed. "It's not the most upmarket place, but the drinks are cheap and they have an open mic night on a Thursday."
You hesitated for a moment. In all honesty, it didn't sound like a bad plan. After the day you'd had, you could do with a drink. And, Eddie wouldn't be the worst company. You released another soft sigh, shaking your head slightly.
"Fine. One drink."
A smile split across Eddie's features, a bright grin making its home there. "You aren't going to regret this, Sweetheart; I promise." He's immediately hurried off to the coat rack, returning with your jacket and purse. "Let's hit the road."
*Time Skip*
"This place is -" you hesitated for a moment, your eyes roaming around the Hideout. "Interesting," you finished quietly as Eddie slipped into the booth opposite you with your drinks, drinks he'd insisted on paying for.
"I know it's probably not your usual style-"
"You think I'm a snob," you interrupted. "Don't you?"
His brow furrowed slightly. "No. Never."
"You think I'm a stuffy, boring bitch," you pressed on. "And I get it. I can be a little high-strung-"
"I don't think that," Eddie interjected. "Sure, you can be a little rigid from time to time. But you're not boring, and I would never dream of calling you a bitch." He hesitated for a moment. "I think you're great," he confessed with a small shrug.
"I'm always so mean to you," you countered, listening to the bright chuckle that escaped Eddie, your brow furrowed in confusion.
"What? You think I'd come and bother you the way I do if I didn't like someone being a little mean to me?" He snorted again. "Sweetheart. I love it when you get a bit mean. It's hot."
"Excuse me?"
His tongue darted out, wetting his bottom lip. "You look real pretty when you get mad at me," he confessed. "Hell, you look real pretty all the time, but when you're giving me that disapproving look because I'm being an idiot, it's like I've died and gone to Heaven."
You hesitated for a moment, trying to make sense of his rambling. "You think I'm pretty?"
"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he hummed softly. "And sure, sometimes I think you'd benefit from chilling out a little, but I sort of love how intense you are about everything. It shows you care."
You nodded slightly, still piecing together his statements, figuring him out. "You know, I've always envied how you dance through life like nothing matters. Always wished I was capable of just doing things without worrying about the outcome. And you-" you hesitated for a moment, head tilting to the side slightly. "You just seem like you're always having so much fun. Always. Even when you're working."
"Well, it helps that there's always a pretty girl for me to distract when I'm at work," he teased, grinning when you rolled your eyes at him.
"Idiot," you muttered.
"Yeah," he agreed softly, chuckling slightly. "But you kind of dig it, don't you?"
You hesitated for a moment, biting back a smile. "I'm not sure I'd use those words, exactly-"
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