Work Text:
Indianapolis was new to Jonathan. It was foreign and large and he didn’t know anyone there. It was the best choice though. It was a choice that allowed him to be somewhere different, somewhere fit for him that also wasn’t too far from his family. They were still in Hawkins, Will and El finishing up high school in not too long now and his mom and Hopper happily married for a few years.
Jonathan knew he could’ve gone anywhere, his mom wanted him to go where he wanted but something about being somewhere too far from them made him feel awful. So he moved to Indianapolis. It was good for him.
It was a big city, it had beautiful sights and new people and opportunities for Jonathan. He felt good here.
He often found himself walking the city near his apartment at odd hours. Early in the morning or late at night you could find him strolling a path he had only been down a few times, taking pictures of everything that spoke to him.
Jonathan woke up this morning and decided to walk to a park. He often found he liked taking photos of people, not portrait work, just people living their lives. It wasn’t a great hobby in high school, it got him labeled as a weirdo and a creep but it was because he found it beautiful to look at someone and see just a bit of how they were in a single thing they did. To see someone sit for a morning coffee at a cafe and feel the calm in them. To see someone on a jog and see the set look on their face; determination, pride, content.
To see someone in a moment where they’re just living through what is possibly their own routine is to see them at their rawest. An unedited photo of an unedited life. It’s not someone posing or trying to make up a moment for themselves, it’s just a photo of them being. Those are better to Jonathan. They capture a feeling they may not know they have, contentment, comfort.
So today Jonathan went to the park because it was the best place for people watching. People didn’t question the camera, everyone took pictures of the park. They gathered there to go about their day or to maybe spice up their own days, much like Jonathan was doing.
Jonathan aimed his camera all around, taking in everything he could but capturing only little. He had to be stingy with what he really captured, if he took a picture of anything and everything it would take away from the truly beautiful things. Photography isn’t to take pictures of everything around you, it's to take pictures of the things that speak to you and it’s different for each photographer.
For Jonathan it was the woman pushing a stroller while jogging. She reminded him of his mother; determined, strong, capable of many things. She wasn’t just exercising, she was bringing her child with her. It was also the little kid with the gap teeth and the dirty overalls feeding pigeons. He leaned down, feeding them bird seed he grasped at from his overall pocket. The pigeons eagerly pecked them out of his hand causing him to giggle and look at his parents’ excitedly.
Jonathan smiled to himself, thinking of how he got a few pictures of both scenes. Just people in a moment. He was pulled from his thoughts, however, by a tune. A tune from a guitar. He looked around, camera hanging around his neck by the strap, for the source of the tune. When he found it his hands shot to his camera on their own, knowing he needed a picture before he did.
It was a man, strumming an acoustic guitar on a bench in the center of the park. He had long, curly hair that didn’t look tame at all. His guitar was worn and tattered just enough to show it was loved and written in paint on it were the words ‘this machine slays dragons.’ He drew Jonathan in immediately.
Jonathan wasn’t sure he recognized the song that he was playing, it was perhaps a slowed down version of a different song but he liked it nonetheless. He looked to the guitarists hands, long slender fingers covered in chunky silver rings. They moved quickly, in a well-practiced series of movements.
The man was wearing a shirt with obviously cut off sleeves and some ripped up jeans. He had old shoes on, white shoes tinted gray and brown from walking around. He had a guitar case at his feet with a sign propped in it. The sign read, ‘whatever you’d like to give.’
Jonathan was enticed by the man, perhaps more than he had been by anyone in the city thus far.
Everything about him screamed to be comfortable. Comfortable in himself, comfortable in his skill and the way he moved and sat. He seemed like a man who was in the moment, whatever he decided he wanted that moment to be in that moment. It was beautiful.
To Jonathan this moment was more than just a hint to who this man was, but a true demonstration. This man left his house and in everything he did he was himself. He played guitar in the park based on what he wanted to play, even if it wasn’t immediately recognizable. He wore what he wanted, even if it read as not put-together or too dark.
Jonathan let himself continue his reach for the camera and pointed it at the man. He stared through the viewfinder and waited a bit. The sun was shining beautifully on him and he switched between looking at the contents of the park or the sky. He didn’t need to look at his hands or the guitar, he knew what he was doing.
The man looked at the small child from before, the one that was feeding the pigeons, and a small smile graced his face. He looked adoringly at the kid, much like Jonathan had done. He continued strumming his guitar, sun shining on him while he smiled at a picture of childhood innocence. Jonathan moved the camera to show the boy he was looking at and captured the moment.
He couldn’t wait to see how it developed.
He waited at the park a little longer. He found a few other things to take pictures of but none that he was as excited to see. The guitarist left around noon and Jonathan snuck one last picture of him, guitar case in hand, walking away.
For the next few weeks Jonathan kept returning to the park whenever he could. Some days the guitarist was there, some days he wasn’t. There were times where people crowded around and gave tips to him and Jonathan would zoom in and take a picture of the man’s beaming face as he saw he was reaching people.
There were also days when hardly anyone neared the guitarist. Those days made Jonathan want to approach him himself. To tell him he thinks he’s fantastic and that he keeps him coming to the park. That he thinks he’s beautiful and so carefree in the way he carries himself that Jonathan wants to do a photo series of the man alone.
He figures that wouldn’t go well, though. A strange man coming up to you to tell you he’s been watching you, taking pictures, that he’s basically obsessed with you. It would be off-putting to say the least.
Jonathan wished it wouldn’t be. Wished he could approach the man and express his enchantment with him and that it would be accepted for what it was and not something weird. Jonathan had no ill intent when he people watched. He did it from a place of appreciation, from an outsider’s view of beautiful monotony. But it could easily come off as stalkerish or an invasion of privacy, he understood this and it’s why he kept most of his photos to himself.
This man, though, made him want to share his photos, or at least the photos of him. He wanted to show the man and tell him how he thought he looked beautiful that day he tied his hair up or how he liked it when he played songs that didn’t seem to fit his style. He wanted to share his art with the man much like the man was sharing his art with the park.
It was a beautiful feeling to want to share it, to feel proud of his pictures. He imagined it was how the man felt when he got tipped while playing his guitar. Like a bit of peace knowing he had shared some joy to someone with something he made.
Parts of Jonathan wondered if, because of this, that this certain man could find an appreciation for the photos Jonathan took of him. If he would want to see him, if he would like that he inspired another artist.
Jonathan wondered a lot about him but he never planned to step from behind his lens and talk to the man.
Until the day he was forced to.
Jonathan hadn’t seen the man that day. He arrived at the park and sat on a nearby bench, watching things and people go by. He waited for a bit to see if the man would show up. He was watching the spot where he usually sat when someone approached him from the other direction.
“Do I have a fan awaiting my presence?”
Jonathan turned around quickly, feeling caught out for nothing in particular, and was met face to face with the performer from all of his pictures. He had his guitar case with him but he set it down at the bench with Jonathan, apparently intending to be there for a moment.
“Um…” Jonathan said, stuttering, not sure what to say.
“I’ve noticed you here a lot when I perform, I appreciate a returning audience,” the man said.
Jonathan gave an awkward chuckle, sounding a bit forced.
“How’s the photography going?” he asked.
Jonathan visually startled, thinking this was the man’s way of telling him he knew he had dozens of pictures of him. The guitarist simply chuckled and pointed to the camera in his hands.
“Oh!” Jonathan said, feeling silly for forgetting he had his camera. “It’s going well.”
“Yeah? You think you’d get bored of the same old scenery after a while.”
Jonathan fumbled with the camera in his hands. “Things are beautiful in different ways at different times,” he said with a shrug.
“Hm,” the man hummed thoughtfully. “That’s really pretty.”
Jonathan tilted his head, “What is?”
The performer chuckled. “What you said. It was pretty. Poetic, even.”
“Oh, thanks,” Jonathan said. “Um, your playing is pretty, too.”
The performer smiled, almost looking teasing.
“I mean, it’s nice. You’re good at playing the guitar. It sounds good,” Jonathan said, rambling on.
The man just laughed. “It’s okay, you can call it pretty, it is sometimes.”
The guitarist gestured to the open spot besides Jonathan on the bench. Jonathan looked at it before understanding the man was asking to sit. He quickly nodded that he could. The man sat down easily, with the same level of confidence and comfort that Jonathan expected from him.
“I’m Eddie,” the man said, sticking out his hand in greeting.
“Um,” Jonathan took his hand, it felt calloused, it told a story, he’d like to take pictures of his hands if he could. “I’m Jonathan.”
“It’s nice to meet my number one fan.”
Jonathan gave a forced chuckle. “What do you mean?”
“Dude,” Eddie said with a sly smile. “I see you taking pictures of me.”
Shit.
“Um, I wasn't,” Jonathan said, stuttering. “I mean–I don’t–”
“Hey, man, relax. I don’t mind,” Eddie said.
Jonathan froze and scanned Eddie’s face for a sign of a lie. “Really?”
“Yeah, if anything I’m flattered.”
“Really?” Jonathan asked in further disbelief.
“Yeah, did you get any good ones?”
Jonathan smiles softly, “Yeah, I did…I can show you them sometime, like bring them here or something?”
“I have a better idea,” Eddie said excitedly. “You can show me them tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yup,” Eddie said simply. “On our date. If I’m reading this right, of course.”
Jonathan was in awe. He knew from the start Eddie was someone comfortable in himself – with himself, but he didn’t even think of what it would be like to talk to him. He just knew what he wanted and he wasn’t afraid to ask.
“A date sounds nice,” Jonathan said.
They agreed on details and decided to meet that night at a small, cheap place to eat. Nothing fancy, it’s neither of their style.
Jonathan was nervous, to say the least. He was scared that Eddie wouldn’t like him once he got to know him. Once he realized he isn’t a very confident person. Not as cool as him.
He got ready and walked there, camera in hand just in case. He got there first and sat himself at a small table outside. He hoped Eddie wouldn’t mind eating outdoors, he preferred it there because it wasn’t a tight space and he could take pictures.
He denied service when the waiter asked, telling him he was expecting someone.
Not long after, Jonathan caught sight of a figure with wild hair speed-walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the small restaurant. As he got closer Jonathan knew it was Eddie for sure. His hair flew around him and he was still clad in all black, just slightly less rips in the clothes than usual.
“Hey, sorry, I’m really bad at time management. I was certain I’d be on time but then it was 5 ‘till and I still hadn’t left,” Eddie said, only slightly out of breath as he took his seat across from Jonathan.
“It’s no problem, I haven’t been waiting long,” Jonathan said, assuring him.
It was strange to see Eddie seemingly frazzled. His hair was a bit of a mess from the speed he was walking but it didn’t look much messier than normal. He seemed nervous, or at least nervous for Eddie, which Jonathan didn’t think was much.
“You look nice,” Eddie said with a soft smile.
Jonathan chuckled, a blush rising on his cheeks. “I look basically the same as before.”
“Yeah, you looked nice then too.”
Jonathan couldn’t stop smiling. “Thanks, you do too.”
“Yeah?” he had a teasing smirk. “Do I look as good up close as I do through the lens?”
Jonathan let out a small, embarrassed groan and leaned his head in his hand, causing Eddie to laugh. “I’m never living it down.”
Eddie shook his head, “It’s cute.”
Jonathan didn’t get the chance to respond before the waiter came back and took their orders.
They got back to talking relatively quickly. Even though Jonathan had always been the shy type, more of a listener, it didn’t seem to cause any problems. Eddie was fine with carrying the conversation and he was good at leaving space for Jonathan. Even though he was doing most of the talking he seemed interested to hear what Jonathan had to say.
They found out they both grew up pretty poor, had similar taste in music and liked their art a lot. Eddie plays DnD and was really excited when Jonathan said he’d heard of it, even if it was only because his little brother plays it. They talked until their food came, and then in between bites of food, and for way too long after they had already paid the bill.
“Are you gonna show me those pictures?” Eddie asked after a moment of silence.
“Yeah, I’d really like to, actually,” Jonathan said, reaching for his bag where he tucked away the photos. He pulled out a few of his favorites he had grabbed on the way out and handed them to Eddie. “These are my favorites,” he said.
Eddie took them softly, with a care that made Jonathan smile. He looked at the one on top, the picture that started it all. It turned out well, the sun rays had created the perfect environment and Jonathan had framed it just right. It showed Eddie on the right side, sitting on a bench strumming his guitar. He had a charming smile on his face, a dimple showing behind strands of his hair. He was staring across the photo at the child feeding the birds. The kid looked carefree, didn’t even care about the eyes on him, a childlike wonder as he watched the birds eat.
When he took the photo it was more about the adoration in Eddie’s eyes but now it looked different to him. It read more as a man looking back on himself. A child, free in the world and freely giving. He also saw the childlike joy that remained in Eddie long past the time of childhood.
It was a beautiful photo, one of Jonathan’s favorites.
“He was such a cute kid,” Eddie said, staring down at the photo fondly.
“Yeah,” Jonathan answered but he was thinking about how he thought Eddie was cuter.
Eddie shuffled the photo to the bottom of the stack, turning his gaze towards the next photo. It was one from a few days later, it was him looking up at the sky, eyes squinted against the sun. He strummed his guitar in it, rings glinting in the light on the relaxed hands.
Eddie smiled. “I like this one.”
“Me too,” Jonathan said.
He continued looking through them, studying each picture for an admirable amount of time. Jonathan softened at the fact he was so interested in looking at them like Jonathan himself would.
“These are amazing, Jon,” Eddie said, handing the pictures back with a huge smile. “You’re really talented.”
Jonathan smiled and looked down, he never did know how to take a compliment. “Thank you.”
“I wouldn’t mind seeing your photos that aren’t of me. If you want,” Eddie said, looking into Jonathan’s eyes with his kind brown ones.
“They’re all at my apartment, but I’d like that,” Jonathan said.
Eddie seemed to think before a second before leaning across the table, resting his face on his hand and his elbow on the table. He gives Jonathan a flirtatious look, “You wanna bring me to them?”
Jonathan didn’t think he’d ever get used to someone so free, so carefree and boldly themselves. He thinks some part of him will always be a little jealous, a little admiring. He wanted to be like that, at least a little.
Until then he’d love to stay around someone who is.
“Yeah, I can do that,” Jonathan said.