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“THREE INCHES!” Hopper demanded over his shoulder as he slowly walked from Elle’s room, eyes narrowed as he continued to stare at the barely-open door.
Which might not have been the best idea, since he bumped into a side table, nearly tripping as a pain blossomed in his thigh.
“Fuck!” He cussed, rubbing a hand over the spot, and using the other hand to grab the same treacherous side table for balance.
Hopper couldn’t figure out if it was funny or depressing to think that a decade ago, he would’ve simply shrugged it off.
He was getting too old for this shit.
Joyce snorted from where she sat sideways on the couch, covering a hand over her mouth, and nearly spilled the red wine in her glass.
Hopper narrowed his eyes at her, and straightened, ignoring the sore spot that would no doubt be a bruise later. “Is something funny?”
“Yep.” Joyce didn’t even try to save his ego. “I mean, it’s funny to think that after facing off monsters and evil Russians, two teenagers and a side table might end up being your undoing.”
Hopper huffed in mild annoyance, and plopped down on the couch beside her to where her feet were touching his thigh. “Haha, hilarious.” He deadpanned.
“Sounds like it.” Joyce teased.
A noise that sounded suspiciously like giggling echoed from Eleven’s room, and Hopper’s head shot towards it so fast, that you’d think a bomb went off.
Joyce rolled her eyes, smiling in amusement. “Relax, Chief. They’re just kids. I’m sure that they’re not doing anything worse then what you used to do at that age.”
Hopper went still as a statue for several moments, then his eyes widened as horror seeped through his bones. “Oh god… If Mike does what I did at that age, then I’m gonna kill him.”
Joyce laughed so hard that she had to set the wine down on the floor, and hugged her stomach.
Even with how wound up he was, Hopper couldn’t help but feel warm satisfaction with how comfortable she was lying on his couch, growing tipsy as the night dragged on.
“I’m serious.” Hopper defended, turning towards her as he rested his arm along the headrest of the couch. “I’m a police officer, I know how to cover up murders. Plus, Mike’s small enough to transport. Especially if I run him through a wood-chipper first.”
Joyce managed to get herself somewhat under control, and held her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, just don’t make me an accomplice to your crimes… Again.”
“I thought you liked living dangerously, Detective Byers? Or was it Wheelbarrow?”
Joyce rolled her eyes, picking the wine glass back up to balance on her thigh. “I panicked when I picked it, okay? You have to stop bringing it up.”
“Only if you stop bringing up that damn heart-to-heart thing.”
“You threatened the poor boy!” Joyce exclaimed, nearly spilling her wine again. “I told you to be emotionally open.”
“I was!” Hopper defended. “… by threatening him.”
Hopper held up a finger when Joyce opened her mouth to argue. “Hey, you don’t know what it’s like! You’ve got two boys, that’s very different than having a daughter. You don’t have to worry about them nearly as much.”
Joyce stared at him for a good minute, as if he’d just said that grass was purple. “… You do realize that you just said that to the same woman whose son literally got kidnapped by monsters, right?”
Hopper opened his mouth, then hesitated, and sagged against the couch as he thought about his prior statement. “That… might not have been the best example.”
“Might not have been?”
“Okay, fine, that was a terrible example.”
Joyce snorted, and Hopper was thankful for the wine in her system since she dropped the topic easily enough. “I’ll say.”
After a minute of silence, Hopper sighed as he looked back towards Elle’s door, eyes narrowing. “If they feel so comfortable making out-“ To which he made a face at. “-when I’m in the next room… then what do you think they do when I’m not around?”
Joyce followed his gaze, contemplative. “Use protection, I hope.”
Hopper whipped his head towards her so fast that he was almost surprised it didn’t break off, and made a noise in the back of his throat that was half growl, half squeak.
Joyce giggled, and held up a hand in truce. “I’m sorry, okay, I’m sorry. But jokes aside, they’re smart kids. I mean, they helped save the world, like, twice. If anything, we should be relieved that they can enjoy themselves like normal teenagers after something like that.”
“Yeah,” Hopper nodded, unconvinced. “relieved.”
Joyce watched him for a moment, then sat her glass back on the floor. She tucked her legs underneath herself, biting her lip as she smiled. “C’mon, don’t you miss feeling like a teenager?”
“Hmm,” Hopper hummed as he pretended to think about it. “Do you mean getting detention for smoking and reusing gym shorts?”
Joyce rolled her eyes, and less-than-gracefully swung a leg over his lap, then positioned herself until she was straddling him.
Joyce wrapped her arms around his neck, and idly played with his hair as he grabbed her by the hips.
She shrugged, trying to hold back a grin. “I was thinking more along the lines of getting caught by a teacher while making out in the storage closet.”
Hopper’s lips quirked up, and his gaze bounced between her eyes and lips. “Well, I heard that Mrs. Flenderson’s in the bathroom, and you remember how long that usually takes…”
“I’ve heard rumors that she takes so long in there because she’s snorting something.” Joyce knitted her brows, then shrugged. “Course, it could also just be those prunes she always hides in her desk.”
Hopper chuckled then brushed his lips against hers. “For the sake of the moment, I don’t think you should finish that thought.“
“Really? Cause it’s one of Hawkins’ true mysteries-“
But before Joyce could finish her sentence, Hopper pushed his lips against hers, one hand rising up to hold her back, while the other lowered till they reached the hem of her jeans.
Joyce gave a pleased moan, and lightly pulled the hair at the back of his head.
And just as Hopper was about to reach his hand into her jeans-
“MRS. BYERS! CHEIF!”
“Dad?”
Joyce nearly fell off the couch as she jumped off of Hopper like a bunny during hunting season.
The adults looked up to see the teenagers staring at them through a foot outside Elle’s open door.
Mike was obviously horrified, eyes wider than when he’d faced off those dema-demy-whatever-those-monster-things-were-called.
Eleven was staring at them with furrowed brows and a tilted head, as if she was confused on whether she should be disgusted or not.
Joyce waved awkwardly, clearing her throat. “Hi, kids.”
“Do you need something?” Hopper asked, an eyebrow raised impatiently.
Mike opened and closed his mouth like a trout, and cleared his throat as he looked everywhere but them. “Um, uh, we, uh, we were just…”
Eleven pointed towards the kitchen when Mike floundered. “We wanted water.”
“Alright,” Hopper gestured vaguely towards the kitchen. “Hurry up and go get it then.”
The kids hesitated, then slowly looked at each other with wide eyes.
Mike turned back towards the adults, and nervously chuckled as he slowly backed into Elle’s room. “Uh, y’know what? I’m not that thirsty anymore. So you can just… yeah.”
And with that, the teenagers hurried into the bedroom as if running from a demogorgon (that’s what they’re called!), and shut the door closed behind them.
“THREE INCHES!” Hopper reminded them, and Eleven opened the door precisely three inches with her powers.
Hopper nodded with satisfaction, then turned back to Joyce, who had now lain against the couch, giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Looks like Mrs. Flenderson came back early.”
“Looks like it.” Hopper agreed with a chuckle, then leaned over her with a teasing grin. “But are we gonna let her stop us or what?“
“Nope,” And with that, Joyce lifted herself up, and pressed her lips against his again, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Now it was Hopper who let out an involuntary moan, and he tangled his hands in her hair.
After a couple minutes of this or so, Eleven’s door slammed open, and Mike hurried out of it, heading towards the front door as if escaping Alcatraz.
Hopper disentangled himself from Joyce, brows raising at the boy. “Where are you going?”
Mike froze like a deer caught in the headlights, one hand wrapped around the doorknob. “Oh, uh… it’s getting late, and I think it’s about time I went home.”
Hopper glanced at the clock on the wall, then turned back to Mike dubiously. “It’s 6:32.”
“… My mom wants me to babysit my little sister.”
“… I thought your parents and sister were out of town this weekend?”
“… Nancy needs help with a project.”
Joyce frowned at him, then she shared a brief look with Hopper. “I thought Nancy was with Jonathon?”
Mike gulped as he was being interrogated, then dashed out the door after a quick, “I gotta go!”
Once the front door shut, the adults slowly looked at each other.
When Hopper connected the dots in his head, a grin split his face. “Oh my god, having you around is like boy repellent!”
Joyce frowned at him, offended. “Excuse me?”
“No, it’s amazing!” Hopper exclaimed, then grabbed her by the back of the head to kiss her again.
As he did so, Elle’s door slammed shut, not an inch to spare.
After a couple minutes they pulled away, and Hopper winked. “You are coming over here, much more often.”