i just haven't met you (yet)
alright here's your bloody part two, jesus christ ♡
part one
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The door unlocked with a series of clunking pops before Steve even registered the sound of boots on the porch.
The cabin was too deep in the woods to avoid regular visitors and the area was boobytrapped enough to discourage anyone else, but still, Hopper frowned disapprovingly at the back of El's head when the door swung open before he reached it.
"You're meant to wait until I knock."
She twisted around to see him over her shoulder, blood smudged under her nostril. "Why?"
The police chief sighed, closing the door behind him and re-engaging each lock by hand. A plastic bag dangled from his fingers.
"Because I could'a been anyone- someone dangerous."
"But you are not."
"But I could have been."
It was a conversation they had often, and this time Steve welcomed it, sinking further into the couch and hoping to avoid any possibility of Hop bringing up the walkie incident.
El had spotted the bag, climbing to her feet in a graceless un-piling of arms and legs.
Thanks to the combined efforts of both their appetites, the pizza cooling on the stove was the third of the night, but Steve knew she'd still be gorging herself on eggo's as soon as she got her hands on them. That girls stomach was an endless abyss, apparently.
Hopper didn't even get a chance to put the bag down before El was rummaging through it, and Steve huffed fondly.
Mistake.
Hopper's eyes flicked up to meet his, mustache twitching, and Steve groaned, leaning his head back against the couch and hiding his face in his hands.
"Can we just forget it happened?" He pleaded.
El, bright yellow boxes piled in one arm, looked between them. "Forget? Why are we forgetting?"
Before Steve could come up with a clever diversion, Hopper was already ruffling her hair and heading for the kitchen. "Your brother embarrassed himself on the radio earlier."
El blinked and tilted her head. "What did you do?"
Steve whined, mortification still simmering in his belly. "I asked if the guy Hop arrested was cute, and he heard it."
"Why is that embarrassing?"
"I wasn't arresting him."
Steve straightened up, ignoring El's question in favour of Hopper's reveal.
"You weren't?"
So, he hadn't called a criminal cute?
Hopper didn't look at him, preoccupied with lifting a slice of pizza free from the tray. "You know how those rich types are-"
Steve grimaced in agreement.
"- they think anyone who's not up to their standards is up to no good."
Something settled in Steve's stomach and he picked at the pizza crust under his nails.
He hadn't called a criminal cute.
"So why'd you take him to the station?"
Hopper grunted, mouth and plate full as he dropped it on the table. El remained in the kitchen, watching the toaster with her chin resting on the back of her hands.
"Protocol mainly. I got his statement about what he was doing in that area, then let him call his uncle to pick him up."
The toaster popped and the tv flickered when El startled. Steve cracked a smile.
"Look," Hopper sighed at the ceiling. "Munson is a pain in the ass, and I've hauled him in for possession more often than I'd like, but he's a good kid."
He shot Steve another grin as El settled beside him with her plate of waffles, and Steve got a bad feeling.
"Don't worry, though. I told him you're cute too."
El caught the pillow before it could knock over the salt shaker, freezing it in mid-air before letting it drop silently to the hardwood.
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