Hello again, friends. We're really about to get into the meat of this little story and I'm quite excited to share it. This story is just fluff because I think our sweet boy deserves it.
Their shared shift on Friday wasn't much to discuss. It had been busy, and Eddie was starting to actually get the hang of his job, so she let him work with little to no help. They shared jokes and another bag of popcorn, sans chocolate chips. Casey left earlier than Eddie that night, cut loose by Craig, so they didn't get to talk and smoke by their cars at the end of the night.
"Some chick asked me about you," one of Eddie's associates told him the next night at a small party in some guy's house, kind of by Lover's Lake. Not exactly a raging kegger kind of party, but still maybe 50 people were there.
"Was she hot?" Eddie asked, not sure where this conversation was going.
"Very. We were at that bonfire party in East Hawkins last night," the guy, Eric, started to explain. "I was talking to some guys and mentioned I knew someone who could hook them up, name's Eddie, and all of a sudden this chick is just there, asks me if I'm talking about Eddie Munson."
"Who was it?" Eddie couldn't think of anyone, a girl especially, that would go to one of those bonfire parties in a field in the middle of nowhere, that would somehow know him. Maybe someone from school? Certainly not Wheeler's sister or Harrington's chatty friend Robin. Maybe Casey?
"I don't know her name, used to date my buddy Ryan a few years ago. Hot, long hair. Kinda tall," Eric described the mysterious girl, very obviously describing Casey. Had she gone to the party after their shift on Friday? Must have. Eric was probably at least 30, much older than him and Casey, so Eddie wondered just how old this Ryan guy was. Why was he jealous of some guy she used to date several years before he even knew she existed?
"Anyway, she asked me what I thought about you. Told her you were a good dude, I think she's into you," Eric continued. "You should hit that while you got the chance, some other guys were pleading their cases at the party."
"Thanks for the heads up," Eddie said, pleased at the thought of Casey asking about him, his confidence swelling. Maybe it was time to kick things up a notch? Stop with the casual, occasional, harmless flirting and really put the moves on.
But he saw her a lot sooner than he expected to. Late Sunday afternoon, she was there at the Hideout, putting on some lipgloss in the mirror of her locker in the backroom, wearing black cut off shorts and a black Rolling Stones tee. When she turned at the sound of the door opening to see who had come in, her face lit up with a big smile.
"Jackie said she was trying to get her shift covered," Casey started, putting the cap back on her gloss and placing it on the shelf in her locker. "I'm glad it's you!" She kicked the locker door shut with her Vans, a metal clang resonating through the room. Eddie's heart felt like the Grinch, growing a few sizes too big for his chest, pressing in on his lungs and making it hard to breathe deep.
"Enjoy the bonfire on Friday?" He asked, forgoing an actual greeting.
"Were you there?" She asked, eyes wide with worry, for some reason. The worry on her face suddenly made Eddie worry.
"Nah, I didn't leave here 'til late. Someone told me they saw you," he explained.
"Oh, I was about to get so mad at you for not hanging out with me if you had seen me," she breathed out a sigh of relief, smiling again. Eddie was next to her now, putting his denim jacket on the hook inside his own locker. Craig had finally given him one, and someone had put a piece of tape with his name on the door of it. The handwriting was neat and familiar, with a little curly-cue flourish on the end of the last E of his name and a smiley face dotting the I.
"I would never," Eddie's hand was on his chest, over his heart, feigning disapproval at the very suggestion of not saying hi to Casey at a party. His actions made her laugh quietly.
"Who told you I was there?" She asked, curious who they had in common.
"This guy, Eric," Eddie answered. "Said you asked him about me." Eddie winked.
"Yeah, well, Craig didn't do a background check so I wanted to make sure you weren't Ted Bundy. You know where I live, for godsakes," she teased, obviously not worried about Eddie murdering her. He was actually probably the least threatening guy she'd met in a while. Not that every man scared her, but that she didn't feel on edge around him. Had she been less reluctant to accurately call it for what it was, she'd say she felt safe with him.
"I get it," he shrugged. "It's the pretty ones you gotta watch out for." Casey smacked him, the back of her hand colliding with his stomach, making him flinch in on himself. Before she could withdraw, Eddie held onto her hand, pulling her into him, arms wrapping around her shoulders in a big bear hug, Casey's arms pinned to her sides. She squealed and laughed the whole time, wiggling against him to escape. Her face was buried in his chest, both of their long hair completely messed up and mixed together.
"I think we wear the same deodorant," her voice was muffled through his shirt and the combination of their hair.
"No way," Eddie said, immediately releasing Casey. She jumped away from him as he tried to grab her arm. "Let me smell!" He cried, going after her to grab her arm. She danced just out of reach, yelling "no" through her laughter. He chased her through the door of the back room, all the way to behind the bar. He had her cornered.
"Is one of you gonna fix me a drink? Or are ya just gonna dick around?" A surly customer barked. Eddie hadn't realized anyone was sitting at the bar.
"Yeah, be right with you. Just gotta smell her armpit real quick," Eddie held up a finger to the customer.
"Eddie!" She exclaimed. She didn't sound mad or embarrassed. How, Eddie would never know. "Not in front of customers!" She scolded, though her smile told him she wasn't serious. "What do you want?" Casey asked the man sweetly pushing past Eddie, her hands on his sides to guide him out of the way. She pinched him before withdrawing her hands, though.
"Screwdriver," the man said, glaring at Eddie as he handed cash over to Casey. It didn't take long for Casey to make the drink and set it down on the bar.
"Treat 'er with some respect, you turkey" the customer pointed at Eddie, then left the bar to sit at a table.
"You heard the man," Casey looked at Eddie over her shoulder. "You turkey," she added, desperately trying to hold in her laughter, but letting out a snort. The cutest fucking snort Eddie had ever heard. Like the cutest fucking pig snort anyone could imagine. Her hand flew up to her nose, embarrassed by the sound it just let out.
"That was the cutest thing ever," Eddie admitted, though it probably sounded more like teasing.
"Shut up," she said, eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed.
What the fuck happened, because things between them had not been like this two days prior. It had never been like this, so goofy and free. So touchy. Roughhousing was a risk, but she gave it right back to him, seemed to relish in it.
"Hold on, your hair isn't perfect," Eddie said, stepping in front of her, reaching up to comb his fingers through her hair, smoothing down errant strands. And she fucking let him. Emboldened, once his fingers reached the end of her long hair, he reached back up to tuck her bangs behind her ears. She matched his gaze the entire goddamn time, not even blinking. It was even softer, silkier than he ever imagined. "Now you're perfect." He hadn't meant it like she, herself, was completely perfect. But he started to believe it.
"Thanks," she chirped, and then she was gone, grabbing a package of cocktail napkins to open and refill dispensers. Eddie's hands smelled citrusy from her shampoo.
The Sunday afternoon shift was actually pretty decent for tips. There had been a group of bikers, and plenty of working stiffs getting their last drinks in before the start of the work week. There wasn't a ton of time for intense flirting, but they managed to pepper in some well-meaning taunts between customers. Towards the end of the night, Eddie was kneeling on the floor, restocking the beer fridge, helping Casey get the place ready for the next day. He didn't know where Casey was, or that she was behind him, until the felt the snap of a twisted up bar rag crack against his ass. He shot up, sweeping his hand down his backside, instinctually reaching for the point of connection on his ass. Casey stood there, fighting a smile, rag in hand.
"I couldn't resist," she said simply, laughter bubbling out. "Your butt was just begging to be snapped." Eddie had worn his lightest wash jeans, the only clean ones he had left. They weren't his favorite, until this moment. Apparently they made his butt speak to her.
"If you wanna smack my ass, you don't gotta use a towel, babe," he said, then tried to snatch the rag from her hand, hand coming up empty as she jerked out of his way.
"I'll remember that next time," she said, winking. Eddie practically fucking twitched inside his jeans.
They finished closing duties quick enough, and met back up in the back room, pulling their shit out of their lockers. "Do you wanna get some food? I'm starving and I hate getting food by myself this late," Casey asked, slipping her arms through the straps of her leather backpack. Eddie could understand why, it was late as hell on a Sunday night, and she was a hot chick by herself. He had seen that 20/20 special a million times before. He didn't need convincing anyway, he agreed in a heartbeat.
"Thought you'd never ask," he answered with a smile, and slipped on his jacket. They locked up, and Casey followed Eddie's van to the only 24 hour diner in town. He held the door open for her and they slid into opposite sides of a booth by the window. They were off the interstate, and only the occasional semi drove by at this time of night.
The waitress looked like she was alive when electricity was invented, and kept calling Eddie "miss", making Casey have to bite her thumb to keep from losing her shit.
"You're such a pretty girl," Casey cooed once the waitress had taken their orders and left. Eddie's cheeks were red, but didn't want to give Casey any more ammunition.
"Damn right I am," he said, flipping his hair over his shoulder like he had seen Casey do a thousand times. She kicked his shin under the table. "The old wombat is blind. I'm obviously very manly."
"Big strong man," Casey deepened her voice, puffed out her chest and pretended to flex, obviously mocking Eddie. He let her get her giggles out, even if it was at his expense. He didn't mind. People had laughed at him before, so it wasn't anything new.
"I'm sorry, it's just really funny," she said, finally settled down. "She obviously didn't see the Adam's apple and stubble."
Any other guy Casey knew would have immediately corrected the waitress, would have bristled at her having laughed. Eddie just took it. He didn't seem to get mad at a lot. Sure, he'd act it sometimes, but Casey always knew they were just playing. It was kind of foreign to her, but she liked it. He was easygoing.
It didn't take long for their burgers and fries to come out. Casey absolutely drenched hers in ketchup, and asked Eddie if she could have his discarded pickles.
"The way you eat your burger is disgusting," he said. "Way too much ketchup."
"Different strokes for different folks," she shrugged, wiping her fingers on the millionth napkin, thanks to the ketchup oozing out of the burger. She wasn't a delicate eater. Not to say that she was an absolute slob, but she wasn't afraid to be messy.
"So besides being a hotshot bartender and absolute guitar god, what do you do?" Casey asked after a lull. Eddie preened at being called a guitar god. He knew she was joking about being a "hotshot bartender", though. He wasn't about to tell her that he had a lot of free time on his hands lately, having just finally graduated from high school. So he chose the next worst thing about himself to share.
"Ever heard of D&D?" He asked. Now that was a test. Most people who had either agreed with the stupid think-pieces in the newspapers calling it a cult, or just knew it as a totally lame nerd game.
"It's fantasy stuff, right? Like dragons and stuff?" She asked, taking a sip of her Coke.
"Yeah, it's a game," he corrected her.
"I've heard of it, obviously I don't know much about it, though." She set her drink back down and took a fry, dipping it in a stupid amount of ketchup. "Is that the shirts you guys wear? I've seen you all wear the same club shirt at least once." Holy god she paid Corroded Coffin that much attention? To even notice what Jeff and Gareth wore?
"Yeah, it's the club we're in. Some other guys too," he answered.
"Tell me about it," she said, sitting back and genuinely looking interested. It took Eddie a second to wrap his brain around someone wanting him to genuinely explain Dungeons and Dragons to them, but once he got started Casey marveled at his passion.
"I don't know why I always thought it was based off Lord of the Rings," Casey muttered once Eddie neared the end of his explanation of monsters, strategy, character creation, and story building.
"There's overlap. Similar monsters and stuff. Dragons, obviously," he answered. Worried he had just nerded out too hard, even though she never stopped him to tell him it was boring or stupid.
"It sounds complicated," she added. Eddie waited for a jab about being surprised he could keep up with something so complicated, but that never came either. "I don't think I could keep up."
"Next time we meet, when everyone's back in town, you should come," he offered. "It's really not that hard, once you get started." Oh Jesus, did he really just invite her to come play Dungeons and Dragons in Gareth's mom's basement? He could just imagine the look on Dustin Henderson's face if she showed up.
"I wont make your friends suffer through teaching me," she laughed at the thought. She didn't like being bad at things, or feeling like she was bothering people. She didn't want to be a burden.
"Are you kidding? They'd shit bricks if you came," Eddie said, finally turning his attention back to his food. He'd forgotten it in his explanation.
"If I can read Dune, I could probably figure it out," Casey said, making Eddie pause again.
"You've read Dune?" He acted like he couldn't believe it.
"Barely," she answered. Eddie could relate, it was a dense fucking book.
"You're a nerd, aren't you?" Eddie guessed. People who weren't nerds didn't read Dune, and he had a feeling she probably read Tolkein, too. She just shrugged
"I just like to read," she answered.
"Yeah, scary as shit books, I noticed," he said, referencing what he had seen in Casey's living room. Casey didn't know how to feel. He had noticed things in her house, remembered them.
"I got detention for bringing The Other to school," she said.
"Of course you got detention, you're a bad girl," Eddie teased. He'd had his fair share of detentions, and was glad to have that particular part of school over and done with.
"Tell me about this," Casey then reached for Eddie's right hand that had been resting on the tabletop. She used it to turn his arm over, exposing the demonic puppet tattoo on his forearm. "Did you draw it?"
"I'm not great at drawing, I just had the idea and the guy did the rest," Eddie shrugged. He had plenty more tattoos, of varying quality, but the one on his forearm was probably the best quality. Had been expensive as shit, too.
"It's cool. These are my favorite, though," Casey turned his arm back over, looking at the flock of bats below his elbow.
"There's plenty more," he said, disappointed when Casey removed her hand from his arm.
"You're so cool," she teased.
"What about you? You've got, like, 30 holes in your ears. Any tats? Any other piercings I can't see?" Eddie asked, voice dripping in suggestion.
"There's only like five in each ear, don't be dramatic," she rolled her eyes. "I pierced my nose last year but it got infected and I didn't really like it so I let it close." Eddie nodded in approval, even if he was sad he never got to see her with a facial piercing. "And one tattoo." She held up a finger proudly.
"Well that I've gotta see," he said, leaning back against the booth, arms spread out across the back of it.
"I'm not about to take my shirt off in public," she laughed.
"Ok, so do it in private," he suggested.
"Yeah, maybe later," she continued to laugh. Though she didn't call him a pervert or act embarrassed. Maybe she thought he was joking? He wasn't joking.
"Where is it? What is it?" He continued to prod. He needed more information. His sanity depended on it, but he maintained his composure, trying not to seem too outwardly eager.
"I'm not telling you," she said.
"It's embarrassing, isn't it?" He teased.
"I don't think so, but you'll make fun of it," she said defensively. Eddie would never. He could never make fun of Casey, not seriously. He'd tease the hell out of her, but he didn't think it was physically possible for him to be mean to her.
"I would never. Cross my heart and hope to die," Eddie drew his hand to his chest, drawing an X over his heart.
"Maybe if you're nice to me," she started to concede.
"Baby, I'm always nice to you," he laughed. Casey's heart swelled and it startled her. Eddie noticed the change on her face, unsure what she was feeling.
"Yeah, you are," she agreed. "I like hanging out with you. I'm glad Craig hired you."It was Eddie's heart's turn to swell in his chest.
"Me too."
"Wanna come back to my place and smoke?" She asked, wadding up the napkin from her lap and putting it on her plate.
"Yes," Eddie said without hesitation. They paid for their food, splitting the check down the middle, and Eddie followed Casey back to her house, chain smoking the whole time to calm down.
Eddie parked his van in the driveway behind Casey's car. She waited for him to get out, and he followed her to the front door, closing it behind them once they were inside. She flipped on the lamp by the couch and disappeared down the hall to her room. Eddie followed.
"So tidy," he said, startling Casey. Her room was so clean. Not a single errant piece of clothing, hardly any junk cluttering her nightstand or surface of her dresser. Her vanity had a bunch of makeup stuff on it, but it was arranged neatly. Even the bed was made.
"I like tidy," she said, going back to the closet, pulling out a little wooden box containing her pipe and previous purchase from Eddie.
"You'd hate my room," he mused, making her laugh.
"Come on," Casey grabbed Eddie by the chain dangling form his jeans, leading him back to the living room with a gentle tug.
"Here, pack it," Casey pushed the box into Eddie's hands, and she flopped down on the couch. He sat next to her, setting the box on the coffee table in front of them. Things had been cleaned up since he was last there, he noticed as he pulled everything out of the box and started breaking up the weed with his fingers. The same copy of Pet Semetary was on the coffee table, but the shirt on the chair, bottles of nail polish, and empty beer bottle by the couch were all gone. Definitely tidy.
Casey watched as Eddie packed the bowl. She still delighted in seeing him use the hot pink pipe. "Ladies first," he said, handing the pipe over to her once he was done so he could go wash his hands in the kitchen. She took two small hits by the time he came sat down right next to her, thighs pressed together, elbows and shoulders bumping together. He took a big hit from the pipe, and leaned back into the cushions as he exhaled. Casey took the pipe back, and Eddie rested his hand atop her thigh, gripping loosely. She made absolutely no move against him, and took another small hit. She pulled her feet up onto the couch, turning to her side into the back of the couch, her arm coming up to rest across Eddie's shoulders and her bent knees in his lap. Eddie helped her settle, both hands guiding her legs into place, and resting on her bare skin.
"I want to braid your hair sometime," she said, lips terribly close to his ear, hand already fingering through the roots at the crown of his skull.
"Anytime, sweetheart," he breathed. He didn't mean to sound so breathy. She giggled. They sat in silence for a moment, Casey stroking his hair, Eddie's thumbs swirling against the skin of her legs. And then suddenly she was moving, standing up a little unsteadily. Eddie reached out to stabilize her, but she was out of reach before he could.
"I'm thirsty," she said, walking into the kitchen for a glass of water.
"You get up a lot when you're high," Eddie said, leaning his head back against the wall behind the couch, laughing to himself.
"It's the impulse control. Or lack of," she explained, coming back with her glass. "Sorry."
"Don't apologize," he said, taking the glass from Casey and taking a long sip, earning a "hey! that's mine!" Casey grabbed the glass back when he was done, and downed the rest. She went back to the kitchen to refill it, came back to set it on the coffee table, and sat back down on the couch, moving back into damn near the same position as before. Eddie worried the sudden intimacy had made her jump up to get water to get out of it, but was pleasantly surprised as they settled back into it.
"It's a butterfly," Casey said suddenly, her hand pushing Eddie's long hair over his shoulder, exposing his neck and clearing his face.
"What is?" Eddie asked, confused and not following her train of thought.
"The tattoo," she said, punctuated by a silent, implied duh.
"Well now I gotta see it. I love butterflies," he said, grinning, earning an eye roll from Casey. But then suddenly her free hand, the one that wasn't in his hair, was on his cheek, pulling his face to hers, and she kissed him. His grip on her legs tightened, but she pulled away.
"Find it," she said simply, kissing him again. She couldn't have said anything hotter. Eddie's heart was racing, blood rushing, muscles aching under his hot skin. His hands traveled up her legs, resting on her hips, her ass, pulling her closer and further into his lap as their mouths moved. This was a fucking dream. Casey's hands were now both lost in his hair, elbows braced on his shoulders.
Casey moved and squirmed while they kissed, and Eddie tried to hold her still with his hands. But then she stopped everything, shifting her weight away from him, hands now on his shoulders; he thought maybe to stop him, but really it was just to brace herself as she moved her legs underneath her, rising up on her knees above him. She swung one leg over him, knees now planted on either side of his narrow hips, and she resumed kissing him.
Eddie finally got his wish, fingers of his left hand tangling in the strings dangling from the hems of Casey's cut off shorts, the right hand creeping up the back of her shirt. Eddie gripped the bottom of Casey's shorts and tried to pull her down onto his lap. She was leaning over him, his head against the back of the couch, Casey's face above his, her satin hair a curtain around them. She was strong and resisted him at first, until his hand gave up on the shorts and moved to her hip, pulling her down again. She let him guide her down to his lap, resting on his thighs.
"This isn't going to make work weird, right?" Eddie asked when they broke apart, both breathing heavy.
"Not a chance," she breathed.
"Is this bad impulse control?" He continued. God, shut the fuck up, Eddie! Keep questioning things and she might stop. But he didn't want to stop. Not ever. If this was a one time thing, it'd be the best night of his life, but he desperately needed it to not be a one time thing, god help him.
"The worst," she laughed, ducking her head and moving her lips against the column of his throat.
Butterfly be damned. Eddie's hands slid up her sides, over her shoulders, to her face. He smoothed her perfect hair away from her face, palms against her cheeks, and gently pulled her face away from his neck, making her look him in the eyes.
"What's wrong?" Casey asked, concerned. He'd flirted since the beginning, surely she hadn't read him wrong. Nobody had ever stopped her from kissing them, and she was suddenly scared something was wrong.
"You're high," he said.
"So are you," she pointed out immediately, cutting Eddie off before he could say anything else. Casey's hands disentangled from his hair, and she cupped his cheeks, mirroring the way he was holding her own face. Was he worried about consent? That she was too far out of her right mind? She'd been higher. But then the impulse control question clicked into place for her. Was she only doing this, straddling his lap, lips on his throat, because she couldn't control her actions? Yeah, but not for the reason he was thinking.
"I'll kiss you again in a few hours when we sober up," she said, staring him directly in the eye. "Do you want to wait?" The only response she got was an ardent "fuck!" Before his lips were on hers again. He released her face, hands back down to her hips, fingers hooked into the waistband of her shorts, until he remembered he had a mission. Find the butterfly.
One, then two hands were under her shirt, open palms and splayed fingers smoothing over the expanse of her back, her ribs, her stomach. It was somewhere under the shirt. He snuck a finger under the band of her bra.
Eddie tasted like cigarettes and weed. Underneath the smell of those things, he also smelled like bar soap, a bit of sweat, stale beer. It was intoxicating.
Casey shifted her weight, pulling on Eddie, guiding him, until her back was on the sofa cushions, his body on top of hers. His narrow hips slotted between her thighs, her knees in the air. He held most of his weight on one forearm, his free hand tasked with somehow getting that goddamn Stones shirt off. He tried to keep kissing her while bunching the front of her shirt up, but the angle and gravity worked against him. Until he grew frustrated enough to stop kissing her, he pushed himself up in as close to a sitting position as he could get, leaning on Casey's knee for support. He pulled at the hem of her shirt, up and over head, Casey lifting her arms and head to assist.
And there it was. A simple black line tattoo of a butterfly, no color, perched on her ribs below her left breast. It was maybe the size of a driver's license.
"That's the most badass butterfly I've ever seen," he said. His face was red, pupils blown, lips swollen, hair even messier than usual. And Casey laid beneath him, hair fanned out behind her head like a dark, shining halo in the lamplight. Her bra was simple, no lace or frilly trimmings. No little satin bow in the center. Just a plain bubblegum pink bra. Her boobs weren't porn star huge, not even normal person huge, maybe just enough to fill his hand, and that was more than enough. It was the most amazing sight. Eat your heart hand, Grand Canyon.
Casey leaned up, propping herself up on an elbow. The look in her eyes was so heart melting, so sweet. Her smile put Eddie's heart in his throat.
"What's your last name?" He croaked, the actual lump in his throat making him sound like he was 13 again. Casey's smile widened, amused by the question.
"Griffin," she answered. Casey Griffin.
"Craig can never schedule us together again," He said, taking the moment to catch his breath.
"Why?" Casey asked, playing innocent. She curled a leg around Eddie's, hooking her ankle behind his thigh, her toes digging into his flesh. At some point she had kicked off her shoes.
"Because we'll end up like this on top of the bar," he answered. "S'not that kind of club, unfortunately." Casey laughed.
"Tell anyone you got my top off and I'll put gum in your hair," she warned, recycling the threat. Eddie was used to people not wanting to be seen with him. It was kind of part of being a drug dealer. And the third year senior freak of Hawkins High School.
"Our little secret," he promised.
"Just to coworkers," she clarified. She couldn't care less if he told his friends. "But I'm making it even," she said, her hands pulling at Eddie's tee shirt. She had trouble getting the job done from her position, so Eddie pulled his shirt off himself, relishing in Casey's grin.
Casey pulled on his bicep, pulling him back down to her. They kissed again, their mouths moving slowly against each other. She drug her hands up and down his back, one of them finally settling on his ass. She squeezed, then slipped her hand into his back pocket. Eddie fucking loved it. He was having a hard time keeping himself from physically showing how much he loved it, the crotch of his jeans growing tighter. He kissed her a little more desperately, a hand wandering to the fly of her shorts. He fumbled with the button, but suddenly Casey's hand was on top of his, redirecting his attention. She had sent him a message, and Eddie took note. He didn't try to take things any further after that, content to lay on top of her on the couch, making out leisurely. He could do it forever.
Except he couldn't. He was losing feeling in the arm holding him up, and it was starting to shake. As if she could sense it, and she probably actually did, Casey put her hands on his chest, gently pushing him away. Eddie continued to hover over her, though.
"If I'm not going to sleep with you tonight, the least I can do is get you in a comfortable position," she said, guiding Eddie back up into a sitting position, still sandwiched between her legs, one of them pressed between his back and the back cushions of the sofa.
"I'm good," Eddie assured her, reaching for the glass of water on the coffee table, taking a long drink. She sat up and took the glass from him once he was done, gulping down the rest. His hand rested on her knee, thumb swirling circles into the pliant flesh.
"Pack another bowl. I have to pee," she said, extricating her legs from around him so she could get up to go to the bathroom. Once she was down the hall and the bathroom door closed behind her, Eddie started work on packing another bowl.
It was late. 4:30 according to his watch. He was a night owl, but after working, and now smoking, he was going to crash soon. He wasn't sure if this was maybe the right time to call it a night and leave. Or if Casey would let him sleep on her couch. They obviously weren't going to go any further. He didn't want to pack another bowl, just to leave right after; he absolutely would not make it home in one piece if he smoked again.
Casey was back after only a few minutes, and noticed the pipe laying on the coffee table, still full of ash from their last session. But while she was in the bathroom, she noticed the time, and figured he had too. He was wearing a watch, after all.
"I didn't realize it was so late," Eddie started.
"I didn't either," Casey agreed. She pulled a rolled up blanket from a basket by the TV stand, and wrapped herself in it. She sat back down on the couch next to Eddie, extending a piece of it to him to share. Eddie took the corner of the knitted blanket in his hand and pulled it across his lap. "You're welcome to stay."
"You don't mind?" He asked.
"Of course not," she laughed. "You're high and it's almost five in the morning."
"I'm good out here if you want to go to bed," Eddie said, perfectly content to crash on the couch.
"Do you need comfy clothes?" She asked.
"No, just hand me that," he pointed to his shirt, on the floor in a heap by Casey's feet. "And I'll just take my jeans off." Casey nodded and fought a yawn. Her tolerance was a lot lower than Eddie's and the effects of smoking were making her sleepy. Plus she usually didn't stay up this late after working a closing shift. She bent over and scooped up Eddie's shirt. She pulled it right-side out and handed it over to him. He sat up on the edge of the sofa and pulled it on over his head, then pulled his long hair out of the neck hole.
"Go to bed," he said. "I'm just gonna use your bathroom real quick." They both stood up, Casey taking the blanket with her. She followed Eddie down the hall, separating at the end as he went into the bathroom and she into her room. Casey changed into cotton pajama shorts and an old, faded tee, its edges around the neck and arm holes fraying. She pulled the covers down on both sides of her bed, sat down on the edge, and waited. Her bedroom door still open to the hallway, she was waiting for Eddie to finish in the bathroom.
He did a little snooping while in the bathroom. How could he not? The medicine cabinet was already ajar. It wasn't super exciting, though. Just some moisturizer and hair products. And the exact same Old Spice deodorant he used; she had been right. He peaked in the shower to see if she used the same soap, too, but hers was some girly shit that smelled like fruit.
When Eddie came out, he of course noticed that Casey was sitting on the edge of her bed, lights on and bedroom door open.
"If you sleep out there I guarantee you'll wake up with Charlie sitting on your face," Casey said.
"Charlie?" Eddie asked, standing in her doorway. "Oh, Satan's cat?" Casey smiled at the name. "So not the cat I want on my face," he joked, making Casey's eyes widen, scandalized by the crass joke. But she laughed anyway.
"Come on, pervert. Close the door," she instructed, holding a hand out to Eddie. Clearly she intended to share her bed with him.
"Guess we're having a sleep over," Eddie said, closing the door behind him. He toed his shoes and socks off, leaving them by the door.
"Looks like it," she agreed.
"Do you mind if I…" Eddie trailed off, not wanting to say "take my pants off", but his hands resting on the waistband of his jeans filled in the gaps for Casey.
"I won't be a monster and make you sleep in jeans," she said, basically giving him permission. She busied herself with settling under the sheets and quilt, rather than just watching Eddie unbuckle his belt and drop his pants. Once free, Eddie walked to the other side of the bed and sat down. He took off his watch, bracelet, and rings, setting them down on the bedside table.
"Your hands are naked," Casey giggled. Eddie looked over his shoulder to see her relaxed back into the pillows, quilt up to her chest, and staring at him. He settled back against the pillows, pulling the sheets up to his hips. Casey smiled at him, then reached over to the bedside table on her side and switched off the lamp, throwing the room into sudden darkness.
"Uh, goodnight," Eddie said, unsure of how to proceed.
"You don't wanna make out a little?" Casey asked, audibly disappointed. Eddie didn't expect that.
"The fuck I don't," he muttered, reaching for Casey in the darkness. His hands found her, and roamed until he found her waist, pulling her into him, tucking neatly into his side. One of her hands gently patted around, looking for his face. Once she found his chin, she grabbed hold and guided his mouth to hers. He kissed her slowly, not wanting to get too worked up again. He snaked one arm around her back, holding her close, hand resting on her lower back. The other hand found a home on her thigh, gently squeezing her flesh.
One of Casey's arms was stuck, pinned between her and Eddie. Her free hand, though, was in his hair, smoothing his bangs back, tucking hair behind his ear, gently scraping her short nails against his scalp, gently tugging at the back of his neck. It was all slow and lazy, so lazy that Casey had to pull away to yawn.
"That bad, huh?" He joked softly.
"Terrible," she mumbled, laying her head back against Eddie's arm.
"Go to sleep," he said quietly.
"OK," she breathed. Casey gathered all of her energy and moved out of Eddie's arms. "No dead arms," she whispered, settling into the pillows. Eddie appreciated that; as much as he kind of wanted to cuddle, having Casey on top of his arm made it go a bit numb.
The super girly eyelet lace curtains covering Casey's bedroom window let in just enough filtered light from her neighbor's back porch light so that she and Eddie could smile at each other before Casey's eyes finally drooped closed.