(dear billy)

｡･:*˚:✧｡RAYMOND DOES NOT consider himself an adventurous person of any kind. Quite the opposite, actually.

He's one of those people who like to play it safe: stay inside, stay warm, no prickly grass, no bugs, no water to fall into or animals to eat him alive. Ironically enough, he is also Australian. He's had enough spiders and other weird shit for one lifetime.

So after he's stolen two bags of gold from a cunning inn owner, encountered and befriended the local demon hunter, he's got himself arrested for the assassination of the king's only daughter and managed to pick the lock of his cell. Right now, he's lurking through the dark, wet corridors of the king's dungeons with some weird sounds coming from behind him.

"I don't wanna play anymore, this is so stupid," he whines and slams his head down onto the table, making the figurines jump.

It really is stupid. Creative, totally. Entertaining, partially. But overall, something way too stupid for someone to waste their time on it, unless they're really into it, like Eddie is. ("I'm not gonna sit and throw dice all day!", "They've got up to twenty sides, Park!")

"The King has defeated you already by imprisoning you like so! You cannot allow this to demotivate you! It is only fair you stand up and keep fighting and, oh, no! They're growing closer!" Eddie narrates dramatically, then mimicks the strange sound once more. Raymond only sighs in exasperation. Surprisingly, the noise stops and he feels Eddie's hand on his head, patting softly. "Come on, little warrior. It's almost over, you can't give up like that!"

"I already died twice! These animals you have, they'll kill me again," Raymond mumbles against the wooden surface, shaking Eddie's hand out of his hair. "Then I'm dead for real."

"Well..." He looks up to see Eddie's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. His third not-so-motivational speech of the day is probably on the way. Perhaps he's about to say that no, that isn't how D&D works, but then his expression softens slightly. He smiles. "How about this? It's your first time playing and honestly, you've lasted more than Garrett did when he started --- he was pretty tragic, might I add --- so I suppose we can have a little... compromise, of sorts."

Raymond raises an eyebrow. "I'm listening."

Eddie straightens up --- no, crouches in his chair --- and leans in, elbows on the table until he's invading Raymond's personal space. There's that same glimmer in his eyes, the one Raymond's seen only once before, when he witnessed one of his campaigns last year. It's alluring, it's chilling to the bone because Raymond believes him. He believes he's truly trapped in an underground dungeon, with no way out and dangerous animals following him.

This is Eddie's thing, he realises. It's not school, it's not movies, not even music. It's this. His passion, his ability to tell a story, to make one feel it as though they were truly there, on the spot, fighting vampires or building bridges. And as much as admitting it makes Raymond's insides twist, as much as it is embarrassing and odd, when Eddie's in his element, he's fascinating to look at.

A few curly hairs falling out of his bun, Eddie keeps his eye contact with Raymond. His hands are pressed flat against the table, rings clicking against the surface in a strange rhythm as he leans closer, closer and closer. Then he tilts his head.

"Here's the thing. You hate this game." Raymond opens his mouth to protest, but Eddie lifts a single finger to silence him. "It's okay, it's okay. You can admit it. I know it's not your thing. For someone completely disinterested, you've done pretty fucking well! So instead of solving the whole mystery---" One corner of his lips lifts slightly, very slowly. "---you just have to take a guess."

"A guess?"

"A guess," he confirms. "Guess what kind of creatures are after you and you've won. Deal?"

"Shit." Raymond rests his chin against his knuckles, frowning. Eddie doesn't take his eyes off of him even for a second and Raymond finds himself praying to win, to prove it to him. Maybe he can't defeat a psychotic king and prove his innocence, but he sure as hell can recognise an animal sound. "Deal."

Eddie salutes dramatically and makes the sound again. Raymond has never heard something this annoying in his life.

"So?"

"A dying hyena."

Eddie scoffs. "Funny." He doesn't seem to mean it. "Try again."

And it really is funny. The noise, the game, Eddie. It's all fucking hilarious and Raymond can't stop laughing to himself as Eddie repeats the sound, hands around his mouth. The laughter ceases only when he catches glimpse of the top two buttons of Eddie's (Raymond's?) ivory shirt, unbuttoned and revealing a thin silver chain with a crimson red guitar pick attached to it.

His heart drops to his stomach and he silently curses the man for having spilled chocolate milk all over his Hellfire shirt yesterday because if he wore that one today, Raymond wouldn't get to look at his thin collarbones, wouldn't feel the way he does right now as the first bat tattoo lies below them and he knows more of those follow somewhere underneath the fabric and he knows---

"Bats," he mutters. "They're bats."

Eddie drops his hands and Raymond finally looks up to see his smile form, wide and bright. "Congratulations, little warrior."

Raymond smiles, too, but the smile hides what he can't say. What he's been ignoring for days and only now realised. What will be the death of him.

He's fucked.

Eddie then proceeds to strum Steve's guitar and hum a tune that Raymond can't recognise. Raymond makes the mistake of commenting on it --- Eddie now knows Raymond plays, too, but that he left his guitar in Sydney last year; he now wants them to play together some time. Right.

What Raymond also does is bring up how Eddie almost got beaten up at the most recent gig his band did.

"You came to see us?" he asks, eyes wide. He seems genuinely happy and Raymond can't wait to ruin that with a joke or two. Seeing pure happiness on Eddie's face and being the cause of it scares him in a way he is not ready to think about.

"Of course." He smirks. "Rusty casket, right?"

Eddie's expression falls flat. "Right, Park. Right."

Eventually, Raymond feels the familiar rumble in his stomach. It's quiet, but loud enough for Eddie to hear it from his armchair and stand up to try and make them sandwiches. Raymond honestly appreciates the help he's been getting from him. Eddie isn't exactly the best, but he prepares a few meals instead of asking Raymond to, so he's grateful. A little bit.

It turns out that bread is quite tricky to find in their house. That's why Eddie spends ten minutes looking through the cabinets, only to realise they left it in the bag the kids had brought and never bothered to take it out.

"Huh, check this out," he mutters, having placed the bread on the counter. He glances down at the bottom of the bag with raised eyebrows. "Looks like our little friends actually care about our sanity enough to provide us with hell recorded on tape."

"How so?" Eddie brings the paper bag over to Ray and he takes a look inside. He feels himself smile as he moves to make the sandwiches. "Fucking hell, I knew I could always count on Buckley."

"Badlands?" Eddie snorts and takes the tape out. "Who actually likes Badlands?"

"I do. My favourite movie, actually." Raymond smiles. "No clue how she knows, though. I never mentioned it to her."

As Raymond fumbles with the ingredients, Eddie eyes the tape suspiciously, as though hoping the cover would magically turn into the cover of some cheap nerdy horror, then flips it over.

"She left a sticky note with a smiley face on it." He chuckles. "Who the fuck draws a smiley face like this? It's got eyebrows."

Raymond stills.

He isn't sure if he should say it. There's no harm in doing it, not to Eddie. Only to his own sanity as he words it out loud, something so small and insignificant, yet so big. "She doesn't. Harrington does."

Eddie whistles. "He knows this one's your favourite, I suppose?"

"He does."

"Wanna watch it?"

"Sure."

They watch it. Raymond brings out some pillows and they sit on the floor. He tries to forget that Steve actually remembered, went through the trouble of getting him this movie for free and didn't even bring it up to him, expecting some sort of gratitude. He just left it there.

Eddie makes it easy, stealing Raymond's attention with his constant complaints on how the movie sucks. He ends up watching it, though.

He ends up drifting off multiple times throughout it, head falling onto Raymond's shoulder each time.

And each time, Raymond pushes him away with a comment.

And each fucking time, Raymond's heart drops deeper and deeper until it sinks somewhere he can't get it back from. He isn't sure how it happens and he doesn't even want to know.

So when Eddie finally starts snoring, head painfully falling forward, Raymond reluctantly pulls it closer and rests it against his own shoulder.

He's fucked.

🖇️ 🎬 🕷️ 🕸️ 🎸

｡･:*˚:✧｡TWO PLATES OF food lie on the table, steaming hot. Everything smells delicious, so much that Raymond just can't wait to dig in, impatiently drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter to try and not think about it. His stomach does it for him, though, and as it rumbles, he grits his teeth.

"Munson, hurry the fuck up!"

For some reason, sitting down and starting his meal alone feels wrong. A few days ago, it would have been the most normal thing to do. He would not give it a second thought. Now, however, having someone around feels like a responsibility and he takes it very seriously.

Eddie doesn't.

He shuffles over into the kitchen with his head down, eyes barely open. His hair is a bird's nest and Raymond can barely help his urge to chop off all the dead ends in the man's sleep.

"Pass me the salt, please?" he asks casually, having taken the first bite and realised the sauce needs more flavour.

Yet, the way Eddie keeps his head low, eyes on the plate, blindly reaching for the saltshaker until he accidentally dips his fingertips into a steaming pot and hisses, Raymond sees something's wrong.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie curses, immediately recoiling his hand. Raymond frowns at the sight, noticing no visible injury on the skin. Eddie probably just got scared by the sudden heat, more than he burned himself.

"You alright?" Raymond asks and Eddie nods. "Are we alright?"

He hits the jackpot. Eddie shrugs and passes the saltshaker nonchalantly, yet the purse of his lips and the redness in his neck indicate everything except for nonchalance.

Only minutes ago, Eddie woke up in Raymond's bed. It's really not that big of a deal, but like everything else, Eddie is blowing this out of proportion, as well.

All Raymond did was usher him to bed because he was just too difficult to wake up and Raymond's shoulder was really starting to hurt with every moment Eddie stayed leaning against it.

"You fell asleep, I helped you into the bed, no hard feelings, okay?" He spells it out for him. "There's no need to freak out."

"Okay."

The tension is released pretty soon. Raymond is pretty sure him suggesting they go outside has something to do with it.

"You sure that's safe?" Eddie asks. "I mean, we've been cooped up here for days. No one exactly told us to organise a damn field trip. What if someone sees us?"

Raymond has thought about it and Eddie is right, partially. Still, they can't exactly predict every detail and, with people rarely passing through the area, chances of something going wrong are very slim.

"People don't come out here during the day. They're at work." Raymond explains. "Besides, I'll go first to make sure." He grabs the door handle, but pauses before opening it. The weight tugging on him, the responsibility of answering for someone other than himself, pulls him backwards. He turns around, seeing Eddie watching him already. "Unless you don't want to go. I get it if you don't."

Eddie sighs and sits back into an armchair. Raymond follows, crouching in front of him.

Running a hand over his face, Eddie shakes his head. "It's funny. I used to spend every day in my trailer, smoking or playing music or both. Never thought I'd treasure going outside. Now I really fucking miss it." He looks down at Raymond. "I'm scared someone will see me."

Patting his knee, Raymond sits down on the floor.

"We don't have to, you know, if you think it will be too much." He offers a smile. "I can tell you I'll make sure it's as safe as possible if you decide to go. But the decision is yours."

Eddie sighs. "Not sure. You can go, though. You're probably sick of sitting here with me. Not an ideal spring break, I believe." There's a smile on his face. "I can be as annoying as they get."

"A little bit." Raymond grins. "Not enough for me to leave you here all alone again. Last time I did that, I ran into you butt naked in the middle of the kitchen."

"Oh, don't act like you didn't like it!"

Raymond hums. "Seriously, though. I'm staying if you're staying. No pressure, really. There's so much to do here, I'll find something."

There's a pause. Eddie looks out the window, then back at him. That's when Raymond sees it.

The longing he's only felt once before. When he walked out of the house to get into Steve's car and breathed in fresh air, saw no walls around himself and allowed the haunting image of the nature around him to become something beautiful.

Eddie wanted that, too.

"Nah, let's get out of here." He says with finality, beaming. "I trust you not to hand me over to Chief Powell the second we're out the door."

He can't help the relief he feels. "Not the very first second, no. Give me half an hour, at least."

"Deal."

Raymond is the first to leave. In the euphoria of feeling the fresh air in his lungs and the wind hitting his face gently, he almost forgets to check his surroundings. When he does, no one's around. Rick's house is as creepy as it's been the whole week, the other two look completely empty. He knows the couple in the bigger one have a café in the mall and that they're there until late at night. The teenage girl living in the other one is always with her grandparents in Chicago during spring break.

Raymond's black hoodie pulled over his shirt, Eddie finally steps out of the house, followed by a curious Ava who separates from the two immediately.

As soon as he's outside, Eddie stops in his tracks. Eyes wide, he turns around and takes in everything around him before his lips spread into the biggest grin. He looks free. Raymond smiles.

"Hell, yeah!" He shouts, then his eyes land on Raymond. "You!" He steps closer and reaches out. Raymond's heart lurches up to his throat when Eddie ruffles his hair again. "You're incredible."

Raymond tries to collect himself. He's so fucked. "And you should go deeper into the forest, just in case."

They do. They go into the woods, walk around in a circle, all the way around the lake, then come out by the house again. Ava, Raymond's ginger menace, crosses their path once or twice, as though keeping an eye on them, while Eddie, Raymond's brunet menace, talks the whole time. About the strangest experiences with his customers (those that can top Chrissy Cunningham being possessed and killed by a monster, at least), about his uncle, his band members, his next campaign once this is all over and he can return to school.

It amazes Raymond. Their conversation never drifts to the supernatural part of their lives. To possible death. To anything other than them getting over this and continuing with their lives as though nothing ever happened. It makes him wonder, had Eddie reached out to him more in school, would he have befriended him?

They have known each other for a while, somehow always happening to find their way to each other when it's important. Not on ordinary days, only when it's a matter of life and death, of friendship and loneliness, of loss and grief. Yet, he can't help but wish they'd shared more cocaine sandwiches, sat together at more lunches, walked each other home more times, ditched more classes to get high behind the school.

He wishes for an ordinary connection with a person anything but ordinary.

"How'd you end up here anyway?" Eddie asks him eventually, as they near the house for the second time.

Raymond sighs. "Long story. My dad's Australian. Mum's American. I spent my childhood in Sydney, came to Hawkins for summer break. We moved here before middle school because mum missed it here. We used to come and go every now and then, that's why I skipped so many classes." He shrugs. "Now they're back in Sydney and I'm here, I guess."

"Kinda surprised they're not here with you," Eddie mutters and Raymond feels the lump in his throat. He clears it awkwardly and opens the door.

"You know how they used to fight and scream a lot?" Eddie nods. "Well, apparently, I was the reason most of the time. Me, my friends here, my grades... They seemed happier back in Sydney, so when I turned eighteen, I told them they could go back home if they wanted to. Noticed they seemed happier without me, so I asked them to help me buy the house." He shrugs. "Now they come on important days." His birthday, apparently, isn't one of those anymore.

"That's fucked up," Eddie says quietly and takes a seat by the TV.

Raymond doesn't feel like sitting that way. Instead, he finds himself cross-legged on the floor, back resting against the side of Eddie's leg --- as much as he hates to admit, there really is something to being Steve Harrington's child that makes him do it. It probably helps them all bond. He thinks it's working.

Eddie's voice comes through and brings him back from his thoughts again. "At least you're better off without that kind of atmosphere around you, I guess. They're shitty people, so if they're no longer around you, it might be for the best, despite how much you probably miss them. When was the last time they visited?"

"Christmas," he answers. "They stayed until, like, the first week of January."

"That was a while ago." With that, Eddie lets the silence surround them. Raymond's eyes flicker up to him and see his head fall back for him to gaze at the ceiling. His jaw clenches. Then it relaxes. His fists, too. Then, there's a slight shake of his head. Almost personal, completely private. To himself, not to Raymond. "Not trying to make this about me, just trying to help you see you're not, like, completely alone in this shit. I kinda have a similar situation going on."

Raymond feels his eyebrows furrow as confusion settles in, fogging up that little piece of information he thought he had on Eddie. Now, with what he's just said, it doesn't really make sense.

"Your parents," Eddie speaks up. "Are they coming back anytime soon?"

"They were supposed to," Raymond explains. He decides to leave out the reason why. His birthday has never been something he enjoys, so there's no reason to bring it up, even if it's in a few days --- he'll be happy if Buckley remembers and brings him a pack of cigarettes or something sweet. "Something more important came up, so don't worry. You won't have to hide in my attic while they're here because they won't be here."

In a manner so ridiculous and so incredibly Eddie, he frowns. "You have an attic?"

Raymond scoffs. "It can be entered from the bedroom, there's a staircase! You didn't see the door?"

"Too busy freaking out over waking up in your goddamn bed!"

Raymond brushes the comment off without saying anything. The silence engulfs them and he isn't sure he likes it.

He's always struggled with it. When conversation runs out and silence feels so tense, awkward. That's when he usually gets the need to keep the other party entertained if he cares enough. When he's with Eddie, he's completely comfortable not talking at all. Usually. Except for now.

Right now, it feels like Eddie is doing some thinking. Too much thinking. So much so that he's back in that little world he seems to have created back when he recorded himself, prepared that message for his loved ones. The world in which he is no longer carrying all the guilt and fear with a smile, but instead, drowning in it. Raymond doesn't like it when Eddie is thinking.

That's why he sighs loudly and knocks his head against the man's knee in an attempt to draw attention to himself a bit more. "Now what?"

There's a light smack against the back of his head and he doesn't bother looking up at Eddie, only nudges his leg.

"Funny how you're asking that, Mr There's So Much To Do Here."

"Don't quote me to me, mate," Raymond warns. "I said that to make you feel better."

"Oh, aren't you an angel, Park---" There's a hitch in his breath. Confused, Raymond looks up to see Eddie smirking.

"You broken or something?"

"Where's my jacket, did you wash it?"

"Why the fuck would I wash your jacket?" he says with a scoff, then points at the coat rack. "It's over there, but I don't think leaving again is a good idea when people are coming back from work. Especially since you're a wanted man and all that."

Eddie rushes over to find his leather jacket among Raymond's cardigans and coats and when he does get a hold of it, he starts going through the pockets. "I'm not leaving, idiot. I'm looking for something."

He frowns. "You're looking for--- oh. Oh. You didn't."

Eddie turns to him with that same smirk on his face, lifting a small bag that Raymond's seen too many times. "Of course I did, doll."

"How the fuck did I not find that there when I took your jacket?"

"It was with me here!" he explains. "Needed a smoke, happened to take the bag out a few hours prior."

Raymond rolls his eyes but shuffles over to the coffee table and pats the spot beside him. "Wanna share?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Not sure I have a choice." He carefully places the bag of weed onto the table and sits beside Raymond. "Not really my best, but it's good enough. Lunchbox stayed at home. This baby takes a little longer to kick in."

It's been a while since Raymond last rolled a joint, yet in familiar surroundings with a familiar person, he eases into it quite naturally. The paper creases way too easily and rips when he licks the edges to seal it. There's extra room at the tip, but he taps the crutch end against the table in order to pack the weed down and fills it up.

Despite all of this, after a few failed attempts, he rolls three solid joints.

More experienced, Eddie rolls seven.

The competition is completely friendly, harmless, yet the glint in both of their eyes can't hide that the effort was put into this purely for show. They don't need ten joints. Not right away, at least. So they end up sharing the first one, as expected.

"Tell me," Eddie starts slowly, taking a silver lighter out of his pocket and bringing it to the joint between his lips. "When did you start with this shit?"

"This shit?" When Eddie waves his joint around, he realises. "Oh. When I started high school, I suppose. Had nothing better to do."

Raymond watches Eddie's cheeks hollow as he inhales the smoke, slowly, before taking the joint between his fingers and exhaling with a smirk. "You were a freshman when we first met." He tilts his head, eyes fixated on Raymond as he awaits to ask the question. "Was I the first person you came to?"

"Yes."

He obviously doesn't expect that to be Raymond's answer. When Raymond confesses it, his smirk falters slightly. Yet, Raymond can't say Eddie looks disappointed in any way.

"Damn," he mutters and hands the joint over. "I'm honoured. Rick's always here, though --- unless right now, apparently. You could have gone to him."

There's a question there that Eddie doesn't raise. Raymond answers it nonetheless.

"I noticed you doing your thing around school," he explains, choosing his words. "I guess no one died making business with you --- until Chrissy." He dodges the lighter Eddie throws at him with a victorious grin. "I kinda guessed I might as well buy from you when others did."

"Shit, you trusted me way too much. Glad to see you've learned from it. No more nosebleeds, I suppose?"

Raymond doesn't answer, only rolls his eyes and leans back against Eddie once more.

Eddie's stuff is usually pretty strong, yet just like Eddie predicted, this batch appears to take a while. Raymond doesn't mind it. All he knows is, at some point, probably after they've lit their third, he realises he's a bit sleepy. His eyelids don't move despite his desperate attempts to keep them apart, his voice is lower than it usually is and he hopes Eddie can actually hear him when he speaks. He needs something interesting to do and asks his companion to entertain him in hopes that high Eddie Munson is fun.

Spoiler alert: he is not and this is going to be a long night.

AUTHOR'S NOTE!
hello hello hello
i have been writing random scenes for this book because it's already plotted out, meaning i kinda forgot to write this one particular chapter on time. to make up for it, it's a slightly longer chapter!!

the next one will contain a flashback which might help you see certain characters differently and i think it will be pretty interesting. hopefully you agree with me once it's out!!

there's way too much going on in this cause i kinda wanted to show how bored they are by making them SO all over the place that they do anything that comes to mind. with them and their brilliant ideas to pass the time, all i can say is: you guys are in for one hell of a ride ;)

never using that winking thing again ew