zccming·:
as eddie yelped in pain, max cut in, “geez! watch it! i can’t afford to pay for your burn treatments right now.” the state of the kitchen stirred enough concern in max that she crawled off the couch and stood guard at the threshold, watching eddie. “don’t blow my house up.” her words of encouragement, obviously, weren’t helping, but she couldn’t seem to bite her tongue. the effort from eddie was sincere, and max did appreciate it, but at the end of the day she was a little shit who couldn’t keep her mouth shut and the idea of her mom coming home from a long shift to this mess was enough to get her antsy.
eddie miraculously finished the meal and max stared at the aftermath skeptically, “i don’t complain.” she whined in refute. “now you go sit down, find us something to watch.” max prompted, mostly urging him out of the kitchen. while she had been very vocal about not helping him clean up, once she got him sitting, that’s exactly what max did. she swept the vegetables off the floor and did some of the dishes she could before making a plate for eddie and herself, then pouring then drinks to match. maybe this would work out to be a nice gesture after all.
“here.” she handed him his food first, then sat with her own. eddie signaling max to try first didn’t bode well for the final product of this dish. willing to be somewhat optimistic, she took a bite, then immediately frowned. she managed to choke it down, then looked at eddie, “eddie,” max levelled with him, “this is burnt.” before he could ask what part, max clarified, “like, all of it.” she tapped her fork onto his plate, “you eat it and try to tell me this is edible.” she set her plate down, shaking her head. “idiot. i told you.”
eddie had made enough choices about dinner that max was finally taking matters into her own hand. she marched into the kitchen and pulled out various take out menus from a drawer. calling to eddie, she asked, “do you want enzo’s, takeout from the bar menu at the hideaway, or something else?” and while she was at it, might as well add, “i hope you found something worth watching in the meantime.”
+++
eddie scoffed, “this is hardly a house”, and turned on the tap, holding his hands under the cold water. he doubted this would actually help the blisters that would most definitely form on his palms in the near future but, oh well, better than nothing.
next thing he knew he was being ushered out of the kitchen and eddie knew better than to protest. not that he was particularly keen on having to clean up, either. so he just rolled his eyes and plopped down on the couch, straining his arm to reach for the remote because once eddie sat down he was sat. he’d rather perform an acrobatic stunt that get up again, not after what felt like hours he’d spent slaving away in the kitchen. he chuckled. sounded like he was a housewife or something.
he aimlessly zapped through the channels, hooked on a dallas plotline for a moment before changing the channel yet again. dynasty? definitely not. zap. oh - he sat up straighter. now, this would do. eddie grinned, looked over his shoulder at max. “found our evening entertainment. unsolved mysteries.” eddie wiggled his eyebrows. “sorta ironic if you ask me. but it’s so good, max.”
what was, apparently, not as good was the food he’d cooked, as even eddie himself stared down skeptically at the plate she’d handed him. “what? come on, don’t bullshit me, you can’t burn pasta.” and to reiterate his point he did take a massive bite and soon found out that it was, in fact, very possible to burn pasta. he nearly choked, grimacing as he chewed and then swallowed. frowning, he set the plate aside on the side table. “god damn it. son of a bitch must’ve given me the wrong recipe.”
blame someone else, always a good tactic. sheepishly, eddie looked at max, gaze following her as she went to get the take out menus. “’m sorry. i fucked up.” and really, eddie was quite mad at himself. good for nothing. couldn’t even cook them a nice meal. shit. “um, enzo’s sounds good?”
where: blue quarry mall
who: eddie + max !
@zccming
despite popular belief, eddie wasn’t completely clueless. he was in a lot of matters, mostly concerning normal social interactions, but he wasn’t completely oblivious to what had happened those years ago on the very spot they were now standing, partying. after venturing through the upside down he’d been filled in on most of the gory details on what whack shit had taken place in hawkins and it had all started to make a little more sense.
presently, eddie knew, they were very much dancing on graves. of people who had died posessed by the mindflayer, people who had been ‘collateral damage’ and people who had heroically sacrificed themselves. people like billy hargrove.
he’d never been that close to billy, hadn’t come to known the guy that well, except for a few hushed drug deals here and there. their connection hadn’t gone past a somewhat acknowledging nod to one another at a metal gig. but eddie knew that, in a twisted way, he’d filled the position that billy had left -
- in max mayfield’s life. so he’d kept close watch of her througout the evening from his position next to the stereo. when he’d spotted her a little further away from the crowd, he’d quickly made his way over.
“hey kid. you good? having fun?”