&&. Max + Eddie 003 - Blog Posts

zccming·:

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max squinted in eddie’s direction, communicating all she didn’t say. the main take away being, are you stupid? “i do do this for myself, like most nights out of the week.” her mom worked the night shift most days, it had been that way for years, max had learned how to fend for herself. sure, it wasn’t always a hot homecooked meal, but she did know how to feed herself, and she definitely knew how to use a knife without nearly losing a finger. “but you have a point.” max sighed, carefully avoiding the words you’re and right. “next time i’ll cook for us.”

at the end of the night, it didn’t matter whether or not eddie had made a five star meal or the inedible mush on their plates. the principal of sit down dinners was never about the food served, or each participants etiquette. they were about spending quality time with one another, and making an effort to connect. 

she hadn’t grown up with the most functional family and max never had a halting revelation that she wasn’t miss american pie and they weren’t the brady bunch. it was known in the same way she learned to walk or talk. she was born into chaos, from her parents divorce, to having billy hargrove and his insufferable dad as her new family members, then moving to hawkins. max seemed destined to walk a rocky path, but with eddie around, the idea of family stopped feeling so painful. it wasn’t how she always pictured it to be, but it felt nice when there were nights like these. 

unsolved mysteries prompted max to wonder if all of them were real, but that wasn’t of concern right now. she dismissed eddie’s thanks man with a, “shh! … you’re welcome.” as her eyes glued to the screen. it was going to be a long wait for their food if she couldn’t immerse herself into the show. at eddie’s assessment of incompetent law enforcement, max gave him a look, “if it seems that way then it definitely is that way.” she rolled her eyes, “we’d know living in hawkins… did you know they tried to give me a traffic violation for skateboarding on the side of the road?” groaning, max had to admit, “i’m so jealous that you don’t live here anymore. and you know, it’s only getting worse the older i get.”

+++

eddie rolled his eyes, over-dramatically but hummed in agreement, carerful not to let his pleased grin show because thats what he’d hoped max would suggest. not that he wouldn’t help her prepare the mayfield-munson-found-family-tv-dinners, he’d definitely help! just not...do them all by himself. because, as it turned out, he sucked at it. 

he settled further into the couch, idly sipping on his beer, dragging his upper lip mindlessly across the rim of the can as he let himself be engulfed by the storyline. eddie was a bit of a restless spirit, always fidgeting, never quite able to direct his attention on one sole thing for more than a few minutes. always looking for another distraction. it had been like that for as long as he could remember, though it had worsened significantly after their trip to the upside down.

as if on cue, he felt a phantom burn where his scars were located. a constant reminder that he’d been through hell and survived. “huh?”, he frowned, tore his eyes away from the screen to look at max. “for skateboarding? jeez, man. whats next, tickets for walking down the street? breathin?” eddie threw his hands up in theatrical mock outrage. “alas, we keep being oppressed by the man! sickening.”

he took a pointed gulp of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “you know, you can always get outta here, max.”, he said, mood a little sobered now. “offer still stands, kiddo. come back to chicago with me. i mean, yeah, my apartment’s like half the size of this trailer and a fucking shithole but we’ll make do. we can figure something out.”

zccming·:

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“okay…” max began her amendment with plenty of attitude, “don’t blow up my shithole trailer.” satisfied with her new answer, she added, “please.” and flashed a sarcastic smile. she glanced to his hands, wondering if he’d scathed them. though she figured, if it was really that bad, he’d probably say so. 

with the weight of eddie out of the kitchen, max finished up her cleaning. although she was irritated she had to do it in the first place, she forced herself to stop and be appreciative. eddie was only here in hawkins for so long, and they were having their substitute family dinner. no time for grouchiness. it wasn’t lost on her that he didn’t have to come back and visit, but she was always grateful he did. while their experiences in hawkins were vastly different at points, she still felt like he understood her. he understood the feeling of being alienated (more intensely than most at that), and generally speaking, he understood, by some miracle, what max always needed.

she stopped, glancing to eddie from the kitchen. she never did stuff like this with billy. their routine when they were alone typically consisted of billy rushing to dump her off his hands at the first chance he got, usually scaring her with harsh words or reckless driving in the process. eddie, on the other hand, was sat on her couch, making up for his mess in the kitchen by finding them a decent show to watch. despite the fact she ordered him to, max was sitting in the feeling of gratitude.

if they were here together and the most pressing matters in hawkins were the unsolved mysteries that robert stack narrated on her television, she couldn’t be all that annoyed. in fact, she’d go as far to say she was happy. 

 now both were nestled with their plates, that happiness quickly became muddled by her momentary aggravation, “i didn’t think you could either, but this is nasty.” she told him, lips pursed. max watched as eddie took a bite and she maintained an unwavering expression of i told you so. “you really shouldn’t need a recipe to make pasta, you know. that’s like…baby stuff.” she then rose from the couch, “pay attention to the tv you’re going to have to fill me in!” max made it clear she was invested in the program. 

it really wasn’t a huge deal. it took all of fifteen minutes and a very oblivious restaurant employee to get their food ordered. when she wrapped up with that, she grabbed them each a beer from the fridge, and for hopefully the final time for a while, max plopped down beside eddie. sighing, she informed, “here.” she handed him his beer, “give the food like an hour. hope you’re not hungry.” her eyes flicked to the screen for a moment as she took a sip of beer, then asked, “what’s this one about? is it a real mystery or another case of the incompetent coppers?”

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“ ‘baby stuff’ ?”, he echoed with feigned outrage. “max, i nearly lost a finger in there. cuttion onions and shit is like, hard.” with a proud grin, however, eddie leaned back, folded his arms behind his head. “but i didn’t even cry. ‘cause i’m hardcore. if this is such ‘baby stuff’ then why don’t you do it yourself, smartass?”

well, it was eddie who’d wanted to do something nice and thoughtful for the both of them. and as disappointed and frustrated as he was with himself that he couldn’t even cook a simply pasta dish, he was equally happy and glad that they could joke about it now so easily. 

eddie had grown up alone,  his uncle cared about him, of course, more than his parents ever had, but he’d been working his ass off to keep a roof over their head so eddie had grown up alone. lonely, sometimes, too. but looking over at max bitching about his cooking, mumbling to herself incoherently, jumping up to go order delivery. eddie sometimes wondered if, in another life, he’d been destined to be a big brother, growing up in a household filled with laughter and chatter and not a moment’s peace.

this, however, this was nice, too. he’d gladly do it all over again if it meant he got to end up watching unsolved mysteries with max in her trailer, feeling a sense of belonging he didn’t even feel with wayne. eddie smiled fondly, took the beer from her and craked it open. “fuck, you’re an angel, maxine. thanks, man,” he muttered, eagerly took a sip. 

“not sure yet. it’s called ‘sons of sam’. looks pretty incompetent copper-y so far, but you never know.”

zccming·:

WHO: max mayfield & @eddiemcnson·

WHERE: mayfield residence

sure, max was just about as grounded as her mom could get her, but she still valued tradition. it wasn’t like there were many of those in the mayfield household anymore, so the ones max did have were gripped and guarded with the utmost care. every time eddie came into town, they’d have their semblance of a “family” dinner. it had been this way since max was in high school, and if she had it her way, it would be this way until the day she died. it took some shuffling to actually figure out when the best time would be, but when susan picked up a graveyard shift, max set the plans into motion. 

she was a touch skeptical when eddie said he wanted to actually cook verses ordering takeout or the ever reliable heating up of a frozen dinner. but hey, maybe he started up with cooking classes in chicago. max laid on her couch, flipping through the three channels they got, repetitive and impatient. filling the role of whiny younger sister well, she called to the kitchen to complain, “there’s nothing good on!” max sighed, then turned, and continued cycling through the channels anyhow. sitting up, she now peered into the kitchen, “what’s taking so long?” she glanced at the mess surrounding eddie, then let him know, “i’m not helping you clean up.”

+++

see, it wasn’t as if eddie was a horrible cook. there was that batch of cookies he’d made in ‘75 for the middle school bakesale that had not turned out terrible. and sometimes when his roomates in chicago - one of them a cookery student - were out, he cooked his own meals, too. in fact, eddie was really, really decent at cooking rice or frying eggs for just the right amount of time. 

but, like, actually...nutritious dinners that involved preperation and recipes? not really his forte. what was a recipe, anyway, if not a bunch of rules to disobey, as was in his nature? still, coming back to hawkins meant mayfield-munson family dinners in front of the tv and this time he was actually going to make an effort. he’d watched his roommate cook - figured how hard could it be, anyway ? - and with both of them embarking on their own seperate life journeys who knew when they’d get the opportunity to do this next? besides, they’d both been through so fucking much in that hellhole of a town, eddie thought as he wiped a sheen of sweat from his forehead, they deserved something nice.

so probably the opposite of what eddie was currently prepearing. the kitchen was a mess, bits of chopped vegetables had fallen the floor, he had three pots and one pan on the tiny stove. this was enitrely too fucking difficult. eddie cursed under his breath, quickly took one of the pots threatening to overcook off the stove - and then held it in his hands for a moment, unsure of where to put it down. “ow, fuck, son of a bitch!” naturally, the handles started to heat up - he distantly recalled himself from an hour ago saying something along the lines of ‘fuck oven mitts,do i look like a grandma, i can handle this’ - and he rushed to put it down on a coaster. eddie  went back to check on the other things on the stovetop - he turned off the stove completely - and stirred everything aimlessly. 

“fuck off.”, he shouted back, rushed to throw the chopped vegetables that hadn’t fallen to the ground into what...could be considered a sauce. stirred again. they’d have to order take out, he thought with a sigh. he drained the pasta, stirred it again, then carried both the pot and the pan over to the dining table. “voila. “ eddie wiped his hands on his jeans, then looked over at max. wondered if it was going to be edible. “now stop complaining and eat. “ - he made a welcoming gesture with his arm, inviting her to dig in first - “ after you, of course.”