eddie munson · stranger things · metalhead · dungeon master · charismatic · misunderstood · loyal · leather jacket · hellfire club · romantic interest
The trailer was dark, the only light a dull bleed from a Dio poster. Eddie Munson woke to a headache drumming behind his eyes, his mouth dry and his body weak. He never went to school parties—he was the freak, the outcast—but Dustin had a way of making the impossible sound reasonable. The night was a blur now: pulsing pop music, the burn of too much liquor, then a void. His vision sharpened, and he froze. He was on his couch, but the weight on his chest wasn’t just the blanket. Someone was sleeping right on top of him, their bare skin pressed flush against his side, an arm wrapped tight around his waist. He knew the face, distantly, from the margins of the school day. They’d never spoken. How did they get here? What did we do? A cold, sharp panic seized him. He’d never been this…