Work Text:
Joyce Byers stood in the doorway of the restaurant, frowning up at the neon sign, a herd of variously aged children standing behind her.
“I am Joyce. Money is tight right now,” she announced to no one, absently, clutching at her purse nervously, as if it was going to run away from her.
The restaurant glowed red and gold from inside, steam fogging up the windows, the sound of bubbling broth heard faintly from inside said establishment. The sign read HOT POT in letters that were louder than they should’ve been.
Hopper sighed deeply, the sound of a man who had accepted the event to come. “I will eat anything, but I get upset when Joyce splurges,” he muttered, already reaching for the door, graciously holding it open for his wife.
The Party+ started to shove through the double doors, unable to contain their excitement. Will was vibrating, simply overjoyed.
“Will likes hot pot!” he said, loudly, the confession stimming out of him.
Jonathan flinched, also in an autistic manner. “I hate hot pot,” he said immediately, already overwhelmed by the smells, the lights, the very idea of it. Then, quieter, “It’s overstimulating.”
Nancy, inquisitive, glanced at the menu displayed over the host stand. “I prefer yakiniku! I’m not against hot pot, but I just have other preferences,” she said, diplomatically.
Steve leaned forward, on his tippy-toes, eyes going wide. “Steve, for one, is eager to try hot pot,” he said, stupidly, like this was the most important thing that had ever happened to him.
Robin squinted suspiciously at the large pots of soup being brought out from the kitchen. “Robin is apprehensive about hot pot,” she mimicked, gripping Steve’s sleeve like the broth might jump from its confinement and attack.
Nearby, Max leaned against the wall, coolly, hands in her jacket pockets. “I fuck with Asian cuisine, because I am such a cool, niche girl,” she said, as if that explained everything. Hot pot is cool, and so is Max.
Lucas merely shrugged. “I’m always up for trying new things. And,” He dropped his voice a little. “Mike told me that he is okay with hot pot even though he was nervous to try it,” he said, nodding at Mike, who startled a little bit.
“I- yeah,” Mike said weakly, embarrassing himself in front of Max, who was smirking. Subconsciously, his eyes kept darting to Will, then away, then back again.
Dustin was still smiling. “I’m just happy to be here,” he stated.
Somewhere in the back, Delightful Derek gave a big thumbs up. “Derek can get down with hot pot.”
Joyce stared at all of them, looking as if she wanted to weep from fear of an empty wallet. “Why are there so many of you?”
~~~
The table was quite large, as there were a great many of them. Circular in shape, with a lazy Susan situated in the middle, spinning slowly, hypnotically, a ritual object. Two broths simmered there, one mild, one so spicy looking that Johnathan immediately averted his gaze and started sipping water.
El leaned forward, eyes already shining with delight.
“I like throwing meat into the pot when it makes a splash,” she said, already doing it. The broth responded enthusiastically, bubbling merrily around the rapidly cooking meat. Will glanced over, making sure to keep an eye on the pot so his sister wouldn’t forget about it.
Joyce gasped. “El, honey, that costs money.”
Hop grimaced. “See? Splurging.”
Will sat close to Mike, their knees almost brushing. Mike noticed. Mike always noticed. He had been picking hesitantly at a shitake mushroom, but glanced up as he felt Will’s eyes on him.
“Are you okay?” Mike asked, nervously, like the soup itself was judging him.
Will smiled softly at his…friend. “It’s warm,” he said. “I like warm things.”
And so Byler occurred quietly, slowly in their little corner, condensation forming on a glass.
Across the table, Steve was piling a great many things onto his plate at random. “So you just, like, cook it yourself?” he asked, seeming delighted.
“Yes,” Nancy said patiently. Robin leaned closer to Nancy, whispering a running commentary under her breath, eyes never leaving the broth. She was still frightened. Her elbow had accidentally hit the heating knob, and now one of the pots was boiling rapidly.
Nancy took Robin’s hand under the table, squeezing gently to ground her. The girl’s face turned bright red, and soon the soup wasn’t the only thing threatening to boil over.
Jonathan sat stiffly, fingers tight around his fork, but still gave Will an encouraging smile. He had nothing but a bowl of white rice in front of him. “It’s loud,” he said. “And too wet.”
Will reached over and patted him gently on the shoulder before returning to Mike.
Lucas tossed something into the pot. “I think it's good!” he said, chewing thoughtfully.
Max nodded, smug. “Told you so.”
Erica pretended not to watch them all eating, only sneakily reaching in with her chopsticks when she thought no one was looking.
“Hot pot is ONLY for nerd losers,” she reminded Dustin when he caught her, mouth full of bean sprouts.
He grinned toothily. “We are nerd losers!”
From the shadows and hazy steam of HOT POT, Eddie Munson emerged, hair flowing behind him in a divine, prophetical way.
“I have come back to life through the power of hot pot,” he announced, glowing slightly with strange radiance. Everyone around the table stared at him in disbelief, but no one particularly wanted to question it. Eddie sat down suddenly, and the steam curled around him in godly approval.
“This,” he said, gesturing dramatically to the pot with both hands, “is resurrection cuisine.”
No one argued, save for Joyce, who bemoaned silently that she had another mouth to feed.
~~~
Things got stranger!
The broth boiled faster, and the lights flickered. Someone, most likely Dustin, had started spinning the lazy Susan far too fast. Bits of soup were landing in droplets across the table.
El still laughed every time meat splashed.
Joyce started adding numbers in her head.
Hopper ate everything that the kids didn’t touch.
Robin finally tried a bite of her food and froze in place. “Okay,” she said, after a moment. “I understand it now.”
Steve cheered for her, gleeful.
Mike leaned closer to Will, voice barely heard over the noise of the soup. “I was scared to try it,” he admitted, trusting as a baby dear.
Will stared at him, almost too shy to smile, but he felt the grin bursting from his chest anyway. “You still tried anyway. That’s what matters to me.”
Nancy, similarly soup-drunk, rested her head briefly against Robin’s shoulder. Robin pretended not to notice, did a spectacularly poor job, and noticed very much. Jonathan, still slowly consuming rice, put on his headphones.
Eddie raised his glass. “To HOT POT,” he said. “The true Upside Down to Hawkins, Indiana.”
Derek nodded solemnly. Eddie had no fucking clue who this kid was or who he was related to.