Rebel, Rebel - Jim Hopper x Reader

ii. Kegs & Secrets

You sighed heavily as you looked down at your wristwatch, the hands ticking idly by along to the music that blared from Larry's sound system. It had been two hours since the party started, yet there was still no sign of Jim. You were starting to think that he wouldn't show up, but could you blame him? You probably hated gatherings like these even more than he did. There was a tiny part of you that had hoped that you would be spending the night talking to Hopper, and embarrassment spread through your body at the thought that he had stood you up. Maybe you shouldn't have invited him; it probably made you look like a dumb ass. Of course he wouldn't come. He saw through all of this, and, in a way, you were incredibly envious of him.

Your head shot up at the sound of cheering, your gaze drifting to your boyfriend who was currently funneling beer from a silver keg, wobbling slightly as he attempted to regain his posture. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead looking around in desperation to find someone to talk to. Karen had left around an hour ago, and you would rather continue being bored out of your mind than spark a conversation with Chrissy, who was currently flirting with one of the linebackers in Larry's living room.

Finally coming to terms with the fact that you would be spending the rest of the night alone, you toed off your slightly-worn-out Converse and approached the in-ground swimming pool nestled in the center of the backyard. You bent over slightly to roll your light-wash jeans up mid-calf before you dipped your toes in the pool, wincing at the sudden change in temperature against your skin. You slowly submerged your legs into the water, sitting on the edge of the pool and wading your feet in the ripples as you got lost in your own reflection. Some song from The Beatles began to roar through the backyard and you allowed yourself to close your eyes, swaying back and forth to the melody of Can't Buy Me Love. While you had always fancied yourself a Rolling Stones or Kinks girl, you knew that given the population here at the party, that would never be an option.

You slowly opened your eyes, jumping when you saw another reflection towering behind you. You turned around and your shock quickly transformed into a wide grin upon seeing Hopper's figure loom above you. He chuckled, handing you one of two bottles of Guinness that he had brought from home. You smiled up at him, gratefully accepting the bottle of liquor and motioning for him to sit next to you.

"Color me shocked," you teased, looking over at him as he sat down next to you, his back facing the pool so he didn't have to take off his boots. "I didn't think you would come."

"I told you I wouldn't disappoint you," he winked, popping the cap off of the bottle with ease. "Plus, what kind of friend would I be if I just left you here to sulk alone?"

Following his actions, you brought your own bottle to the edge of the pool and removed the cap, "You trying to get me drunk, Hopper?"

He chuckled, shaking his head as he tapped his bottle against yours, "I wouldn't let you get drunk, princess. One beer's never hurt anyone before."

You smiled at him before bringing the bottle to your lips, sipping the liquid and wincing as the bitter flavor coated your tongue, "This tastes like ass!"

"Oh?" he asked with a raised eyebrow before taking another thick gulp of the beverage. "I didn't think you ate ass, (Y/L/N)."

You choked on the beer as you tried to take another sip, punching him in the shoulder with a scandalized look on your face, "You're so dirty! Get your mind out of the gutter."

He chuckled as you continued, "I don't know how you can possibly drink this shit."

"I tend to look past the flavor and focus on how it makes me feel," he said, examining the bottle in his hands. "It makes parties like this just a tad more bearable."