December 1986

One moment, he stood on her doorstep, saying that he wanted to kiss her and mere seconds later, he did just that. His hands were on Andy's cheeks as he leaned down and pulled her closer, pressing his lips against hers.

Andy had no idea how long the kiss lasted. She had enough time to let the shock pass and to move, wrapping her arms around his neck and standing just a little bit closer. The kiss was gentle, gentler than what she imagined it would feel like in the few moments she'd allowed herself to imagine it. His lips barely moved, only gently caressing hers, and she reciprocated, both overwhelmed with excitement and fear of what happens when it stops.

It was gentler than she had imagined and better than she had imagined, too. Andy's never given much thought to something as mundane as kissing; she kissed a lot of people, and most of the time, it meant nothing. But whether she kissed one or one hundred, she would be a fool to think that the kiss with Eddie was one of those that didn't carry much meaning. Quite the opposite - it meant everything. Everything she wanted to say but couldn't, everything she wanted to do but dared not to. Everything unsaid and undone that lingered, she expressed it in the kiss, hoping that Eddie would understand. Overcome, she could simply follow his lead and hope that it was enough.

Andy could swear that she felt hesitation when Eddie slowly pulled away - it made her wonder if he was worried about ending the moment, too. She wondered if he wanted it to last longer, for them to stay frozen in that time and place for as long as possible, just as she did.

His fingers moved gently against her cheeks as he stood up straight, never taking his eyes away from hers. Andy always found his eyes special, so round and dark and full of wonder, but they were never as overwhelming to look at as they were then. They spoke in his stead, and unless Andy was having a hallucination, they said all that he couldn't.

For the first time, in that very moment, Andy thought that whatever feelings she had for him were reciprocated. She had never felt wanted by him, not before then.

"I didn't think it through," Eddie's voice was soft, so low it was almost a whisper, as if they were in a crowded room and he wanted to keep it a secret, something shared just between them. They were alone, all alone, but if she was to speak up, Andy knew her voice would be low, too. "I didn't know before you open the door that I would kiss you. But the thought of that night and how it almost happened and how I chickened out, it-"

"Eddie," she interrupted him, finally able to feel some compassion for him for giving up the way he did that night. Before, she was too hurt, perhaps even too angry, to understand just how much fear he might have felt then, but once he voiced it… she couldn't help but feel bad, perhaps even a bit guilty, too. "It's… It's okay. We can't know everything. We… we can't always go for what we want, ignoring every hindrance. Bravery is not always there."

"It's not, but it's never you that's the coward between the two of us, is it?"

"Eddie Munson, you are not a fucking coward, do you hear me?" Andy demanded, angry at the way he saw himself. It was no news to her that Eddie was hard on himself. While it wasn't something she could change, she could reassure him that he shouldn't feel that way because of her. "And I'm not always brave either, you know? I said nothing. I walked away and stayed away for as long as you would let me."

"It wasn't like that," he insisted. His hands dropped to the sides of her neck, as he continued gently running his fingers against her skin. Andy wondered if he could feel the goosebumps that covered her skin, her whole entire body reacting to feeling his touch, for the first time ever. "We both know it wasn't like that. You did what you thought was what I wanted you to. And maybe I thought that it was, too, but I was wrong. And… Fuck, we have so much to talk about, don't we?" he asked, the worry showing on his face. Andy wanted him to smile after he kissed her, not frown and let his thoughts overtake him.

"We don't have to do it tonight," she told him, smiling once she realized that, unlike that night, they didn't have a time limit. She knew that come morning, they won't be running away from one another. "We don't have to name it, or discuss it, or anything, really. Let's just… spend some time together, yeah?" she suggested. She wanted him to stay. Christmas or not, she wanted him around, and being alone with him, even for just a few minutes, was enough to make her realize just how much she missed him in the days in which she kept her distance. It was wrong in so many ways and she doesn't want to do it again. Ever.

And the kiss helped. It did more than help, but there will be time for her to tell him that.

"Leave all the difficult stuff for tomorrow?" Eddie asked. It was impossible not to smile at how endearing he was at that moment. Andy could only be grateful that he more than likely had absolutely no idea of the extent of his power over her.

"Something like that, yeah," she agreed, detaching him from her hug. She took one of his hands, both of which were still on her, and she squeezed it tight, smiling when she felt him squeeze back. "Let's just enjoy the moment, enjoy Christmas and think about everything else tomorrow, the day after that, or the day after that, or… well, you get it."

"I'd very much like that, yeah."

A little awkward and uncharacteristically shy, Andy looked away from him, knowing that the smile on her face was blinding, so wide that it made her cheeks hurt. She didn't mind him knowing she was happy - in fact, she wanted him to know. But it was so new, so different and it meant much more than she thought it would, making her want to keep at least some of the cards close to her chest. It could be stupid, Andy knew that, but she needed time to get used to the idea of Eddie possibly becoming… more.

He seemed to have understood, as his smile mirrored hers; he cocked his head to the side, leaning down as if he was trying to chase her smile. He absolutely was, Andy was sure, because once their eyes met, he laughed. It… was almost a giggle. Positive that her cheeks were burning at that point, Andy allowed herself to take a deep breath and finally close the front door behind him, before leading him into the living room, never once letting go of his hand.

Mere minutes ago, she was tipsy and tired, borderline sleepy, and now she was wide awake, her mind on full alert, with adrenaline coursing through her veins. She could run a marathon, go a full week without sleep, throw furniture around with the strength of Wonder Woman - she couldn't remember the last time she felt that wired up.

"So um…" Eddie began talking, looking around her living room, looking like he was desperately searching for something to start a conversation on. She appreciated him doing so, as Andy wasn't quite sure if she was even able of speaking unprompted. "What were you up to? Were you doing something tonight?" he asked. Chit-chat felt like such a stupid way to go but what else could they do? They agreed on leaving the difficult topics for later.

"Honestly, I wasn't doing anything," Andy admitted, very much hyper-aware of the way his thumb was moving up and down the back of her hand that he was still holding. He could have been doing it without thinking, but every little moment of his skin on hers, even if expected, made her feel a bit dizzy. "Just… drinking, listening to music, sitting. Boring, right?" she asked out loud, realizing just how pathetic it sounded. Spending Christmas alone didn't have to be as dull as she made her night to be.

"No, no," Eddie reassured her as quickly as he could; he was nervous, too. It was so clear, the way he stumbled with his words and tried to keep the conversation going. Andy was usually the one who did that, but given everything, Eddie had managed just fine. "The Smiths again, I noticed," he points out, making Andy smile. Well I Wonder, which was playing, had always been one of her favorites. She knew that she might just live to regret it, but there was no way for her to not associate the song with him from then on.

"If you want to do something else, we totally could," she started, only to realize how her words might be understood. Andy was not ready for that, she was sure, but her words sounded like an open invitation. "We can watch a movie? Are you hungry? I can totally heat up some leftovers?" she thought of one idea after another, saying pretty much anything to distract him from her vague suggestion.

"Andy, it's still me," Eddie interrupted her before she could come up with another stupid suggestion. There was a smile on his face, but his eyes were serious. Andy knew that he meant what he was saying and that he was taking it seriously. Eddie could be a real jokester, he could be the most unserious person she'd ever known, but when push comes to shove, he could also get his shit together. And that time, it seemed like he did it before she could. "I know that some things might change after tonight, but it's still boring old me. Just the annoying dork who shits on your music taste and never refuses food."

She laughed, looking down at their hands. "I happen to enjoy spending time with that dork."

"Good, otherwise this would be really awkward," he joked, and with the sound of their shared laughter, Andy could feel herself relaxing. The excitement of the change between them hasn't left, and she doubted it would leave anytime soon, but she was not as wired up - all she needed was a reminder that he was still the same person she'd grown to like, to begin with. "I'm perfectly fine with just chilling and listening to music."

"No food?" she joked, laughing when he rolled his eyes at her.

"I wasn't serious about free food," he sighed dramatically, diving into the theatrical side of his personality that he'd unleash, usually when he is trying to make her laugh. Perhaps Andy should have known sooner - Eddie was never the type to try so hard to make someone laugh, not if they were no one special. "I want Andy Harrington to keep me company, not Betty the fucking homemaker. Not that there's anything wrong with that," he added quickly.

"Eddie," Andy laughed at him, noticing the hint of panic in his voice. "Just to remind you - it's still just me, too. No need to explain every word, I know you don't think before you speak."

"You wound me," he deadpanned.

"Do I?" she joked, biting her lip to stop a shit-eating grin from overtaking her expression. "I don't think I said any lies thus far, have I?"

Were they flirting? Was what Andy always saw as banter actually flirting? Was that what they were trying to do all along? Were they really so stupid to not recognize that the other person had been on the same page all along? It was stupid, so, so stupid, and it angered Andy to realize just how much time they wasted, but it was a price that had to be paid. At least from then on out, they could make a point not to let their stupidity hinder them from doing what they want to do - what they wanted to do all along, too.

Eddie looked at her in a way that made her heart skip. He looked at her like he had never seen her before, like he never wants to see anyone but her, like she was the only person in this world that is worth more than one second of his time. Andy… she wasn't unfamiliar with a look like that. Boys, men, looked at her like that before, usually when they wanted her. Sometimes they got her, sometimes they did not, but sooner or later, they would stop looking at her like that. And Eddie might just stop, too. But at that moment? She knew there was more meaning in his look than in all the others combined. It could have been a delusion, or a simple exaggeration - Andy wasn't stupid, she knew that it was possible that she was seeing more than what actually existed. But she also knew that Eddie knew her, unlike all the others. He actually knew her, both the Andy that she presented to the world, and the one she kept to herself. He, along with a handful of others, truly knew her, and as crazy as it might have seemed to her, he liked her. And whatever he said, he actually meant.

"Hey?" he nodded toward her.

"Yeah?"

"Merry Christmas, Andy."

"Merry Christmas," she replied, confused but smiling. The switch from banter, or flirting, to a meaningful moment, caught her off-guard, but she managed to keep her footing. And when Eddie scooted closer to her on the couch, Andy didn't hesitate before she rested her head against his shoulder.

They were still holding hands.


They were mostly quiet. Unusually quiet, actually. With the two of them, there was always talk, jokes and laughter, never a single dull moment, especially when they were alone. Andy was used to laughing until she cried, bouncing between awe at his perceptiveness and genuine wonder as to how he had managed to survive so long without any major injuries or accidentally setting himself on fire. She was so used to a funny Eddie, the one that saw more than what met the eye, and the goofy one, who made a show out of simple things, like his inability to hard boil an egg. It was always so dynamic, so alive, the connection between them and the way they'd spent their time.

Subdued and quiet wasn't bad, though, not by any means. Andy enjoyed the calmness of the night and the silence that they shared because they both knew that their eyes were saying more than their words ever could. Spending time with Eddie in any capacity was enjoyable to her, and Andy had spent half the night shocked at the realization of just how much she had missed him lately, and wondering how and why the hell it took him returning to make her recognize and understand it.

They did talk, of course. After all, Eddie could only stay silent for so long. But every time they'd start, they'd keep their voices low and return back to the silence soon enough.

Time flew by, literal hours passed without either of them realizing it. They were just sitting there, occasionally getting up to change the record, or pour the other more wine, but once they were both on the couch again, one hand would find the way to the other, and that was how they spent Christmas - mostly quiet, smiling, and holding hands.

Andy fell asleep first, and Eddie didn't wake her up, finding the sight of her leaning onto him in her sleep oddly comforting. If he could melt, he would, as the realization that not only did she like him, too, but she trusted him… it was more than he ever thought he could have.

He fell asleep, too, but he woke up first. It was morning, and Andy had moved on from sleeping against him to borderline clinging to him. He hated the thought of disrupting her, of detaching himself from her grip, but he knew he had to. If the couch wasn't comfortable to him, it definitely wasn't comfortable to her, and he knew all too well how hard she worked and how little she rested. And as much as he hated it, he had to leave.

"Andy," his call is gentle, and he hesitated for a second before gently pushing the hair back from her face. She was frowning, pouting, not even close to being fully awake, but her sleep was definitely disrupted. She was so stupidly cute, Eddie wanted to kiss her more than he ever did before, and it killed him that he had to wait before he had a chance to do it again. "Andy, come on, let's get you to your room," his voice was only slightly louder.

"Why?" she whined, making Eddie absolutely sure that she is definitely not fully awake.

"Because your back will hurt like a bitch if you don't get some sleep in a proper bed," he answered, his laughter making her body shake by extension - that made her frown and only curl up closer to him. "I also need to go home, I promised Wayne I'll visit him today."

"Why?" Andy wasn't giving in.

"Because he needs my help with fixing up his kitchen," Eddie replied, patiently, completely unaware that whatever he was saying went through her one ear and out the other.

"Why?" she mumbled, and finally, Eddie realized. Chuckling, he got up, slowly helping her get on her feet. She leaned onto him for support, but that was exactly what Eddie had wanted - with a hand on her waist and hers around his neck, he helped her walk out of the living room and up the stairs. He was carefully watching their every step, making sure that they don't trip and fall, while Andy was rubbing sleep away from her eyes and trying to decide if she was dreaming or if everything was actually happening.

Eddie knew which room was hers, having been there before, and despite holding onto her and helping her with every step, he couldn't help but feel like an intruder once he stepped over the threshold, helping her not to trip. He had to remind himself that she herself had invited him there, welcomed him before, and was very clear that she wanted him to stay the night. It was impossible to not feel welcome when he remembered that she wanted him there. Why? That was a mystery to him, one that he dared not explore.

"Come on, sleepyhead, get in the bed," he groaned as he helped her, all but lifting her up to get her into bed. It worked, and he couldn't help but laugh again when he realized that her eyes were still very much closed - she didn't even wake up, not really. He looked around, reaching for the blanket at the bottom of the bed and unfolding it to cover her. Sleeping in jeans couldn't have been comfortable, but there was nothing he could do to help her about it. He wasn't about to fuck up his chances at something more with her by suggesting that he helps her out of her clothes mere hours after finally growing the balls to kiss her.

"I still don't get why don't you say," she grunted, more awake than Eddie had realized.

"Told ya, have to go help out Wayne," he replied as he tucked her in. "You can stop by this afternoon if you want. Or any day this week, if you feel like you need more time," he offered, hoping and praying immediately that she won't need that time. He offered her a luxury he himself couldn't afford - the last week alone was more than enough to drive him up the wall.

"You know, when I thought about you taking me to bed, this was not what I had in mind."

If he was holding something in his hands, Eddie was sure that he would have dropped it, just like his jaw dropped at the words that came out of her mouth. He wasn't sure why he was taken by surprise - Andy always talked openly just about anything, never cherry-picking her words or avoiding topics. He supposed that he was simply taken by surprise, as he was never the major part of the context behind her words like he was then.

"Oh, you are soooo going to regret saying that when you wake up," Eddie laughed once the initial shock had passed. He was glad Andy was still half asleep, as she couldn't see him being a blushing mess. Joking around was the easiest way for him to, at least temporarily, ignore the meaning behind her words, and if she would say them while wide awake.

"Why the heck would I regret that?" she snorted in response.

"Because you're not even half-awake, Andy," he laughed.

"I'm awake enough to know what I'm saying, and I don't say shit I don't mean. Don't you know me, Eddie Munson?" she opened her eyes, and despite the sleepiness that clouded them, he could see the challenge there. Leave it to Andy Harrington.

"I do," Eddie answered. He knew her well, and he liked every single part of her. But he will tell her that when she is conscious enough to remember it hours later. "Now, sleep. We'll talk soon, yeah?"

"Mhm," she mumbled, her eyes already closing. She was out like a light, and Eddie allowed himself just a few seconds more. Just a few seconds to gather his thoughts and remind himself that the girl he was crazy about felt something for him, too. He laughed to himself, realizing that it could take weeks, months, fucking years, before he doesn't see it as a plot twist in a science fiction novel, but as his reality - that's how unreal it seemed. That he, Eddie Munson, the former suspected killer, and high school repeat senior, somehow ended up on the radar, and possibly even in the heart of Andrea fucking Harrington. Science fiction is what it was. Almost as unbelievable as how long it took him to realize just how much he liked her - to accept that it wasn't a silly crush that would pass in no time, but something real. Something real and meaningful, something worth pursuing, even if it ended in heartbreak.

"Sleep well, Andy," he leaned over, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. He didn't linger, not with the peck, not in her room, knowing that she would know where to find him once she is ready. And hopefully, by then, he would be ready, too.


Andy woke up with the realization that she had made a horrible, terrible, horrific mistake.

Scared of dropping the ball, deadly terrified of him somehow changing his mind on how he felt about her, she insisted that they could leave all the difficult conversations for some other time, and just bask in the simplicity of the moment they shared, in the not-yet-knowing what they were or will be, phase.

She was wrong - oh so wrong, and she knew it the moment she opened her eyes and allowed her mind to go over the events of the night before.

Not knowing was always the nail in her coffin when it came to Eddie. Half the time, Andy had no idea what her own thoughts and feelings were, much less his. Not communicating well was an issue from the get-go, assumptions about what the other thinks… pushing back the 'what are we now' talk was the emotional equivalent of shooting herself in the foot. With that one move, she gave them all the tools they needed in order to fuck this up, too.

Not all was lost, she reassured herself. He sought her out, he kissed her, he stayed. Heck, he even got helped her in the bed and kissed her on the cheek before leaving. All things considered, it was pretty clear that they were on the same page.

There was no way they could fuck it up that badly, Andy was sure. They held hands the whole night, they exchanged looks that promised more, they agreed to discuss it and he even offered to have the talk today. She was overthinking it, like she often did, but once the panic had simmered down, she realized she felt that way just because she cared.

Holy fuck, did she care. She was too scared to admit to herself just how much. Being honest with herself would mean accepting that with Eddie, if her feelings were reciprocated, she had one big reason to stay. Reasons to stay in Hawkins any longer than she absolutely had to were always the things she avoided most. Accepting that she was in love with him, or some form of it, something similar, she dared not name it… fuck, it was a reason the size of an iceberg. It scared her before and it scared her still. The only difference was, now that she knew he felt the same, or similarly, it just might end up being worth the risk.

Andy decided not to waste time. As quickly as she possibly could, she showered, got dressed in whatever clothes she could find first, and bothered enough to pull back her messy hair into a ponytail. If there ever was a day that she wished she had 24/7 access to a car, it was that day. Still, she was more than willing to walk. And she was going to do that, right until she heard a car pulling up the driveway as she was putting on her shoes.

It was Steve.

Steve, who couldn't even wait for morning to come before making his escape. Steve, who was more broken by their parents than Andy could have imagined. It was her brother, who possibly never needed her more than he needed her that day. Her twin brother, who rushed into the house the day after Christmas, tears filling his eyes as he, without saying a single word, pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, not hesitating before leaning on her fully, both physically and metaphorically.

Andy had unfortunately seen Steve broken before. It wasn't a sight she wanted to rehash, and definitely not one she wanted to see in real-time again. She wasn't prepared for the onslaught of emotions her brother had hit her with, struggling to stay upright as she stumbled through her words, trying to get to the bottom of what could have been so bad to make him react the way he did.

As it turned out, it wasn't anything bad in particular. It was simply a final straw.

Once Steve had calmed down enough to talk, the two sat down in the living room. If Steve had noticed that there were two empty wine glasses on the table along with an empty bottle, he said nothing. She listened to him talk, repeating the ugly words their parents have said to him, sinking more and more into disbelief at every new sentence that left his mouth.

It will never cease to impress her just how much some people were never meant to be parents, and theirs were, in her opinion, the first in line. Masking insults into well-meaning advice was their talent, and it's been years since Andy had taught herself not to react, even if she could never learn how to minimize their effect. She was a once-promising kid that now reeked of failure, and she knew it. But Steve? Andy could never stomach the words they'd say to him. No matter how many times it happened, she was never quite prepared for it, and they stung ten times more than the insults directed at her.

That time, they mocked and criticized his decision to stay in Hawkins for a while longer, once again reminding him that despite his lack of intellect, he could have at least gone to community college. According to them, it would still be an embarrassment, but less so that the one they were living then.

Andy listened, reassured him when appropriate, and made sure that he remembered that people who don't know him couldn't say shit about him. That was the ugly truth - neither of their parents knew either of them. They could shit on them, their character, and their life choice as much as they wanted, when they didn't even know who they were. Steve and Andy were as good as strangers, and she was baffled that their parents haven't realized it yet. Or they have, and they were really just that good at pretending.

She and Steve got drunk that afternoon, turning the earlier crying session into motivational speeches - she praised him and he did the same to her in return. She reminded him that he was a terrific brother and a wonderful friend and that he would go on to achieve great things, even if those weren't the ones their parents imagined. Steve did the same, reminding her that they were two halves of the same whole.

Andy didn't forget about Eddie, not for one second. But she couldn't leave her brother, not even to call Eddie and explain, much less to go and visit him. And she could only take one difficult conversation a day.

Eddie had to wait. She hated making that decision, but it was inevitable.