Chapter Text
Summer comes and goes faster than Joyce expects it to. After graduation, June and July breeze on by, and late August arrives with cooler evenings and pending plans for the future that she, surprisingly, feels ready to come along, like for Will to leave the nest and meet new people from outside of Hawkins’s protected, closed-minded bubble. Like the move to the very tip of Long Island and into a sweet little house only a block away from the beach.
It’d only been a couple weeks ago that she and Hop took a weekend trip up to Montauk to get him talking with their police department for the new position and to take a look at the pad they’ve had eyes on. Maybe it’s in part due to how she is just about done with Hawkins and this too-small cabin, but Joyce has already fallen in love with little Montauk. Despite the inherent bittersweet nature of moving away from home, she can’t wait.
“We’re kinda following you up there, huh?”
Joyce comes up beside Jonathan as she says it, giving him an affectionate squeeze before reaching past him for the cupboard.
“You need help?”
She waves him off, starting to collect the dishes. “I’ve got it, baby. Thanks.”
“‘Kay. How long after I leave are you guys out of here?”
“Only a couple days,” she says, grunting as she lifts a stackful of plates into her arms, then nudges the door closed with her hip. “Just enough time to finish packing up what’s left.”
“It’ll be nice,” he muses as she passes him again. “Having a more neutral meeting place when I come visit you guys.”
Her nose wrinkles as she smiles softly. She carefully balances the breakables while lifting the cardboard box labeled kitchenware from the floor and setting it on the table. With a quiet exhale, she lowers the plates, taking a couple off the top. But then she freezes, frowning before she can set them inside.
She sets the plates back on the pile and lifts out Hopper’s wall-mounted fish. Not kitchenware. She rolls her eyes, puts it on the counter in trade for the bubble wrap, and gets back to work. Jonathan leaves to go help El pack Joyce and falls into a productive flow and gets about halfway done wrapping up the plates before Hop emerges from their bedroom.
“‘M almost done in there,” he tells her. “Waiting to take down the bed, for obvious reasons…”
She nods from her seat, throwing him a small smile over her shoulder as he heads for the refrigerator. “I’m glad we started packing when we did. I’m actually not as stressed as I thought I’d be.”
Hopper hums, cracking into what she already knows is a Dr. Pepper behind her. He lingers for a moment, seemingly taking a much needed five as she continues to work in the quiet.
“Hey.”
Joyce cocks an eyebrow, finishing up a plate before turning her head to him.
He holds up that stupid wall fish. “Did you take this out?”
“Of the kitchenware box? Yes.” She snorts and puts her legs up to rest on the other chair, reaching for another plate with a small groan. The man still looks confused when she glances up after a beat.
“...So?”
“So what?”
“It lives in the kitchen. Kitchenware.”
She scoffs, shaking her head as he pads over to her. She’s not entertaining this. “Did you use this logic while packing up the bedroom?”
“I didn’t have to,” he reasons. “There’s no fish in there.”
Joyce gives him an incredulous look, which only earns her a smug little smirk beneath his mustache. She rolls her eyes when he dips down to kiss her hair, but she tilts her head up and lets him kiss her lips too, despite herself.
She exhales and meets his baby blues. The late afternoon sun casts a warmth on him through the window and she softens slightly. Her gaze drifts when he takes a swig of his drink, drawn to a glimmer from her left hand when the diamond of her engagement ring catches on the light. Her lips quirk as she flexes her fingers, considering. Then,
“Do you wanna get married?”
Hopper coughs into his fist, waving her off before she gets the chance to ask if he’s okay.
“...Now?”
Joyce moves to stand, taking his hand in both of her own. “Couple days?” She tilts her head, biting her lip. “While the kids are still home.”
“Joyce–”
“I don’t need the whistles and the bells,” she assures him quickly. “We could elope, for all I care. Then we move and we’re already married. Clean slate.”
Her gaze flicks up to his face, watching him mull over her words as she gently massages his hand, rubbing her thumb along his knuckles, the diamond ring gleaming up at him.
“What, you’re fine with the courthouse?” Hopper asks tentatively.
She softens with a shrug. “I’m very fine with that. Are you?”
He nods after a moment, smoothing over his mustache. His gaze returns to hers when she leans a little to catch his attention. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Yeah. Sure.”
Joyce has had a wedding before. So has Hop. She’s certain their wedding doesn’t need to be an extravagant venue with the triple layered cake and bridesmaids and the hurt bank account.
“Getting it done will make everything easier, yeah?”
Hopper keeps nodding. That small smirk returns to his mouth, bringing a hand up to push her hair behind her ears. “I'll get to call you wife sooner,” he says, voice dropping.
Warmth blossoms in her cheeks, brow lifting as he takes a step and backs her against the table. The wrapped dishes in the box clatter slightly as her lower back bumps it.
“That’s all you got out of that conversation?” Joyce teases.
“No.” He leans closer as she smooths down the front of his flannel. “Just one of ‘em.”
She’s rolling her eyes but she’s also craning her head over when he nuzzles into her neck, kissing up to that on-switch right beneath her ear. She stifles a sigh and threads her fingers into his curls, letting him have his way for a couple extra beats before the sound of chatter enters her consciousness and the doorknob to Will and El’s bedroom twists open.
She coughs and shoves Hopper off of her before the poor boy gets an eyeful of his parents' PDA, thankfully unbeknownst to how handsy his stepdad is.
“Where’re the other boxes, Mom?”
“By the door. Also, make sure you save that button-down for later this week.”
Will frowns, looking between the two of them and taking a couple flattened boxes. “...Why?”
Joyce bites her smile, chancing a glance over at Hop before looking back at her son. “‘Think we’re just gonna get the papers signed ‘n tie this knot,” she says, and that’s sort of exactly what winds up happening.
That Friday, a pause is put in finishing up what’s left of packing up the cabin to clean themselves up and head across town to Hawkins’s only courthouse. It's small, quaint, only consisting of the judge, herself, the groom, & their three witnesses. The closest to a wedding dress she owns is one of the dresses she wears out to dinner with Hop sometimes, and while being a traditional bride with the veil would've been fun, the way he looks down at her when he says “I do” does more than enough to make her feel like the only woman in the world.
Their first dinner together married happens only an hour-ish after the papers are signed, squeezed into one of the red-leather booths at the new diner downtown. Other than the glaring obvious, there’s nothing particularly special about just greasy burgers and poppy music she doesn’t know, but the scene still manages to twist her heart just enough to make her all nostalgic.
She’s at the dresser, throwing on one of Hop’s old Hawkins PD shirts when the door opens and he appears in the frame later that night, and it’s right then that she realizes that this is technically their first moment alone as husband and wife. Hopper, evidently, enters their bedroom already knowing that piece; he comes up behind her and places his hands on either side of her arms, melting into her like it’s the first time he’s truly breathed all day.
Despite her melancholy, Joyce lets him trail kisses from her temple to where her neck and shoulder meet, eyes fluttering as she lolls her head back against him. She nudges the side of his face with her nose until he lifts his head, just enough for her to steal a slow, lingering kiss from his mouth.
She pulls back first, smiling weakly. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself,” he murmurs, reaching down for her hand and pressing a kiss to her new ring. “Wife.”
Her nose wrinkles, humming as she lets her hand drop again. Even after she moves out from his hold to grab and put on her sweatpants, that same big hand falls to her hips when she bends over to reach into a drawer. Tolerantly, she lets him.
“You’re quiet tonight,” he comments lowly. He’s got one hand on her and the other on the dresser, leaning against it as he exists in her space.
She exhales, pulling up her pants. “Am I?”
“Little bit.”
When she turns around, he’s already gazing down at her. That same glint from the courthouse lingers in his eyes, and she feels herself give in to it, just slightly. His hair is damp and rumbled from the shower, his shirt clinging onto the last traces of clean, fresh linen.
His lips quirk, tilting his head. “Don’t tell me you’re getting cold feet on me…”
Sincerity and teasing go back and forth in her chest before she frowns after a beat. “Marrying you was one of the easiest things I’ve done all week,” she admits, dragging her fingernails lightly along his arm.
Hopper’s brow jumps slightly, touched before he’s confused. “What was the hardest?” he asks.
She draws her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes fall down to the labeled packing boxes she’d moved aside for the night, remembers the way Will and El had giggled until Joyce was sure they’d be getting some noise complaint at dinner.
“There’s just a lot going on,” she says, “with all of us. With the move and Will moving into his dorm soon, I’m just…” A long sigh escapes her, shaking her head. Time is slipping from her, is what’s happening.
“I’m excited about the new house, don’t get me wrong. It’s just–”
“‘S just a lot?”
She nods faintly, like she’s maybe relieved to have him finish for her, to have him understand. Joyce gives in under nearly nothing when he coaxes her into his arms, wrapping around in his own warmth. She keeps in his hold easily, her cheek pressed against his chest as she blinks slowly at the packed cardboard boxes and the bare walls, the places where all of her things used to be.
It’s only a couple beats before Hop shifts his hands low enough to slide beneath her thighs and scoop her up into his arms. Joyce doesn’t bother fighting him or pretend to protest, but the distance he moves is only to their bed a few feet away. She snorts but she lets him lie down and bring her with him, curling into his side.
“You’re funny,” she murmurs, getting comfortable.
He only cranes his head down to kiss the top of her head, humming lowly. She just leans up to meet him, placing a hand on his cheek to urge him closer, kissing him slow and sweet until a voice comes from the other side of their door.
“Joyce?”
She pulls away with a sigh and ignores Hopper’s grumbling. “Yeah?”
“Where’re the other boxes?” El asks shyly. “I need another.”
“By the front door, honey,” she tells her. She feels like she’s said this a hundred times within the past week to every single person in this damn cabin.
“We’ll have a little less…interference pretty soon here, y’know.”
She blinks then frowns, glancing up at him. “Huh?”
Hopper smirks, petting her hair. “I’m just looking forward to getting you to myself all the time, that’s all,” he murmurs, and Joyce just rolls her eyes and pulls him back in for another kiss.