Just Stuff

Eddie chuckles softly as he cups your breasts in his hand, trying to memorise the soft curves of your body. He's right, other lovers had stolen you away from each other over the years, and even now the timing is terrible. It's the night before Eddie's band leaves for a tour. Nothing too crazy, it's not a worldwide tour. He'd reassured you when he saw your face fall at the realisation this meant you'd be stuck in Hawkins without your best friend for 3 months.

You pull him closer, as though you could bind your bodies together to keep him here. Your kisses become needy and desperate, needing more of Eddie's touch, more of his lips. Eddie is only too happy to give you anything you want tonight, meeting your kisses with similar fervour while his hands grow braver in their exploration of you, slipping between your thighs, under your skirt until they are ghosting over a wet patch on your underwear.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss slowly as though the action of separating his lips from yours is one that causes him great pain.

"What do you want?"

You shake your head, you don't want to say it aloud. It might burst the bubble you're in.

"I'm not going to touch you until you tell me what you want."

"You. I want you. All of you."

Eddie glances down pointedly, highlighting that there is no space between you,

"You have me. Tell me what you want me to do."

You bite down on your lip, this was new territory.  Not just with Eddie, but a guy asking what you wanted instead of just taking whatever he wanted from you.

"I want you to touch me." Your cheeks are blazing red and you flicker your eyes away from Eddie, from the corner of your eye you see him open his mouth, ready to ask you to be more specific, then closing as you clasp his hand in yours and guide it between your bodies, down to where you desperately need his touch. 

He's slow at first, determined to draw the evening out for as long as he can, already planning to spend the next day sleeping on the bus to make up for the lack of sleep he’ll be getting tonight. His hands stroking an almost agonisingly slow path from your knees up your thighs, his eyes never leave yours, wordlessly checking in with you, slowing when you shiver as his fingers ghost over your underwear,

“Relax, it’s just me.” Eddie’s smile is far too sweet and innocent for someone whose pointer finger is currently tracing your pussy through ever dampening underwear, your breath catching as he lazily brushes past your clit, fully aware of what he’s doing. 

“Eddie, fuck, don’t tease.” You breathe out, struggling to speak without your voice trembling.

“Why not? We’ve got all night.” Eddie’s lips press to your neck as his fingers hook in your underwear, not removing, just pulling aside, before coming away abruptly, 

“Hold onto these for me would’ya?” Eddie removes his rings and quickly slips them over your fingers, “I want those back.” He says with faux sternness before his features are softened by yet another smile as he leans back down to kiss you and glides his large hand back down your body, pulling your panties to the side once more and running his fingers through the wetness there. You half expect a comment from him, and you can see on his face that he’s resisting the urge to tease you about how wet you are from minimal teasing.

“Don’t say it.” You mumble, forcing your eyes to focus on the way the light from the nightstand glints on your new accessories.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You can fucking hear the smirk in his voice and are about to reprimand him when he slips his middle finger inside you all the way to the hilt in one fluid motion that knocks the air from your lungs.

“Shit! That’s not fair, going straight for two.” You pant out as he starts running his thumb over your clit, letting you adjust to the intrusion. You look up at him and see an amused expression on Eddie’s face. “What?”

“Baby. That’s not two, that’s just one.” He curls his finger in an attempt to prove himself, “Poor sweetheart, I’m going to have to spend hours making sure you can take all of me aren’t I?” As he speaks you can feel his finger curling faster, seeking. As the rough pad of his finger grazes your g-spot your hips lift off the sofa to chase the sensation.

“Gotcha.” Eddie doubles down, pumping his finger inside of you while curling, the sensation maddening as it means his finger is incessantly grazing your g-spot while his thumb presses down, rubbing deep circles into your clit.

“Jesus christ.” You hiss out as his handiwork sends you hurtling towards an orgasm faster than you’ve been able to accomplish by yourself, never mind with a partner. 

“Think you can take another?” Eddie asks as his pointer finger threatens to breach your tight hole, you nod, afraid of the pitch of the whine that will leave your lips if you speak but Eddie shakes his head,

“I want to hear you tell me you want this. Please?” 

Your voice cracks on your first attempt as he starts to pump his finger harder and faster, relishing in your struggle to hold onto your composure, “Eddie, fuck please. Need another.” You manage on your second attempt, he contemplates asking you to be more specific but takes pity at the way you whine his name, so he slips his second finger in after yanking your panties down to your ankles, not waiting for you to kick them off before he’s slipping two fingers inside you.

“You okay?” His eyebrows come together in concern as he hears the hiss that escapes you as you feel the stretch, “We can slow down.”

“No!” Eddie raises an eyebrow now, smirking slightly at the devastation in your voice, “Don’t want to stop, feels so good. ‘M so full.” 

Despite your insistence that you didn’t need to slow down, Eddie does slow down, to a pace that would be too slow if he wasn’t pressing your g-spot so firmly, focusing on intensity rather than speed, relishing in the way your tight walls feel around his fingers, the way the more pressure he applies the higher pitched your moans get. Your eyes become to heavy to hold open any longer and as you close them you feel Eddie shift from your side to rest between your thighs, the tickle of his hair on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh making you shudder, and the shudder making your walls tighten over Eddie’s fingers for a split second. You feel Eddie’s hot breath over your pussy and your chest lurches in anticipation of his tongue hitting the skin there, but it doesn’t, and so you raise your head to look at him with a questioning stare,

“Well hi there.” Eddie speaks casually, as though his fingers aren’t currently pushed to the hilt inside you, relentlessly rubbing over your g spot and sending you closer to the knife edge of an orgasm with every ministration. “Something wrong?”

“Want to feel your tongue… if you want to.” You tack on the second part to your sentence a little shamefully, a force of habit.

“ ‘if I want to’ what kind of man wouldn’t?” Eddie asks reassuring you with a cheeky grin before holding your eyes as he slowly sinks his head between your thighs, dragging his tongue from his fingers up to your clit, lavishing the sensitive button with slow licks that make your thighs shake, and just when you think you’ve peaked he wraps his pillowy lips around your clit, sucking into his mouth softly, your shift yourself onto your elbows to try to save your back from the shitty couch that might be older than you and Eddie put together and Eddie winks at you as your hips buck up into his mouth, a hum from his mouth has you throwing your head back to let loose a moan that Eddie could only describe as ‘fucking heavenly’ and your hands knotting in his hair, holding him close as he pushes you over the precipice of your orgasm. Eddie helps you to ride it out, keeping his motions consistent until you’re shaking and practically crying out mercy.

“Remind me why we’ve never done this before.” You breathe out in a giggle as Eddie hovers over you, lips glossy with your slick.

“Because we’re very fucking stupid. Bedroom? Please?” Eddie stands up to remove his shirt and holds a hand out to you to help you up, you shake your head, 

“You think I can fucking stand after that? You must be mad.” You giggle as you sit up, taking Eddie’s hand, and wincing slightly when you find it still soaked, you look up at him and he shrugs,

“Well I wasn’t going to wipe my hand on the couch!” He carefully helps you to your legs, leaning down to grab your underwear from the couch and stuffing it in his pocket. Eddie wraps an arm around your waist, guiding you to his bedroom, closing the door behind you both.

You move to undress and Eddie holds up a hand,

“May I?” You nod and step closer to him, lifting your arms to help him remove your shirt, “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, half to himself. He’s fairly sure if he keeps staring at you he might just blow his load in his jeans which would probably not leave you with the best impression before he goes off for 3 months, but before he can busy himself with your skirt you’re removing his shirt, practically tearing the fabric of the threadbare shirt in your enthusiasm, Eddie’s hands meet yours at his belt as you fiddle with it,

“Fashion over function, I hate this.” You huff and he laughs, unbuckling it with ease,

“Just takes practice and a bit of know-how.” Eddie lifts his hands, allowing you to finish removing his jeans before he unzips your skirt in one quick motion, the fabric landing on the floor and pooling at your feet. 

“Well unfortunately someone just has to go on tour, leaving me with no time to practise.” You make a sad face at Eddie as you sit on the bed, shifting back until your back is propped up by pillows. 

“Fuck it, I’ll stay behind. Many bands go on tour without their lead singer right?” Eddie jokes, crawling onto the bed and hovering over you, erection creating a painfully obvious tent in his underwear that you can resist the urge to grasp over the fabric, making Eddie’s hips buck slightly and a low groan escape his lips,

“Don’t think I can actually handle you teasing me tonight sweetheart.” Eddie sounds almost apologetic, “I’d like to do a little better than a two pump chump job if we’re not going to be able to do this again for a while.”

“Two pump chu- jesus christ do you talk to all your conquests like this? And who says we’ll ever do this again?” You tease, 

“No, you’re just very lucky. You’re getting the Eddie Munson fucking his best friend experience.”

“And you’re making me feel so special.” You laugh before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down until his lips are locked with yours, you can feel the smile on his face as your lips join. Your actions mirror his from on the couch as you yank his underwear down to his thighs, he twitches as the coldness from his own rings on your hands brush over the newly exposed skin. 

“Need… Need a condom.” Eddie pants slightly as he comes up for air from your kissing, cheeks flushed and pupils dilated. “Can’t have you calling me while I’m on tour telling me you’re late and making me shit myself.”

“Two things. We’re about to have sex, you cannot talk about shit right now. And also, I’m on the pill.” 

“You sure?” Eddie looks up, condoms are non-negotiable for him with any of his sexual partners, but you’re different. You’re you. And he wants to feel every inch of you along his cock without a barrier in the way. 

“I’m sure, want to feel you. Never wanted to feel anyone like I want to feel you.” 

That’s all the motivation he needs to slip inside, not bothering to hold back the throaty grunt that leaves him as he sheathes himself fully inside you, dipping his head to meet your lips with his own once more, in a searing hot kiss that feels like electricity inside you. He pulls back first, resting his sweat dampened bangs on your forehead, looking into your eyes as he thrusts into you with a steady rhythm, you’d never felt so full in all your life, and the sensation is only heightened by the way Eddie’s body is crushed against yours, you catch a glimpse in the mirror near the foot of his bed and by the way your legs are wrapped around him it’s difficult to discern where you start and he ends.

“Feels stupidly good.” Eddie moans out, and you nod eagerly in agreement,

“L-love feeling you stretching me out Eddie,” You dig your nails into his back in response to a thrust so deep and hard against your g-spot that it knocks you breathless for a moment, Eddie notices and repeats the action, pulling back from your face and grabbing your legs to place them on his shoulders.

“Tell me if it gets too much?” Eddie asks, slowing his rhythm down like he suspects your brain is foggy from the relentless pleasure he’s giving you.

“Don’t flatter yourself big boy.” He laughs at this and picks up his pace gradually until he’s slamming into you, setting a brutal pace that gives you no chance of being able to catch your breath, or think, in fact your thoughts have dwindled to only one coherent thought of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. You’re having a similar effect on him, only able to focus on how tightly your pussy is hugging his cock with every thrust. Knowing he can’t stave of his orgasm for as long as he’d like he turns his focus to making sure you cum before he does, eager to watch you come undone on his cock.

“Too much.” You mewl out as he glides a hand down your thigh, thumb finding your clit with ease and rubbing tight circles into the sensitive flesh.

“Nah, you can take it, can’t you?” Eddie pants out as he keeps pace and carries on toying with your clit, sending blinding sparks of pleasure throughout your whole body. You nod in agreement, you can take it, you want to take everything he wants to give to you. Your thighs start to shake of their own accord and your breaths become shallower, sharp intakes as you feel yourself on the edge of cumming,

“Let go, pretty girl, let me have it.” Eddie coos at you, hair sticking up at odd angles and sweat droplets on his tattooed skin, and its that sight that pushes you over the edge, cumming with loud cries of Eddie’s name as he fucks you through your orgasm, his own hitting him while you’re still riding yours out, the sensation of being filled up with Eddie’s cum only heightening your pleasure. Eddie gently lets your legs back down to the bed and lays beside you, breathing hard, you turn to face him, keeping your legs clamped shut to avoid making too much mess on Eddie’s bed. Not that you think he’d care. 

“Hi.” Eddie’s smiles at you, rubbing a soothing hand on your side, “Please tell me that was as good for you as it was me.”

“Better than I imagined.” You admit before you can stop yourself,

“Did you imagine I was shit in bed? That’s a little rude.” You both laugh and you shake your head,

“Not, like, intentionally, more like I had to convince myself you would be so I didn’t try and jump your bones everytime you wanted to hang out.” Eddie laughs, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close to him, then sniffing you and pretending to recoil.

“Showers all yours if you want it.”

“Asshole.” You say it fondly, and flip him the bird as you shimmy off the bed.

“How am I the asshole? I know you don’t like feeling sweaty and it makes you feel gross.” He holds his hands up in protestation of his innocence,

“It's the sniff and recoil that makes you an asshole Edward.” You call out as you enter the bathroom, having wrapped Eddie’s robe around you to make the perilous journey out from the warmth of Eddie’s room.

Eddie showers after you and practically attaches himself to you once he joins you in his bed, holding you in the little spoon position until you’re forced to wriggle free because he runs so hot and you feel like you’re cuddling with a white hot furnace.

After the previous night you could be forgiven for being a little blindsided by the fact you wake up alone in the empty trailer. Eddie’s suitcases missing from the floor and your own clothes placed over a chair as neatly as possible. 

You get redressed, and call out as you peek around the door to his bedroom, maybe he was in the living room? But no luck. You grow angry, surely not. Surely Eddie would not fuck you, whisper sweet nothings into your ear, slept with you in his arms, and then leave without a goodbye? You spot an envelope with your name on it in Eddie’s messy chicken scratch handwriting, you tear it up, growing ever more angry. The contents of the envelope does not do much to calm you down.

Had a lot of fun last night. Thank you. Key is under doormat. Will call from hotel when I get there.

-E

Eddie does not call that night.

In fact it's two weeks since you hear from Eddie until he calls you on a shitty staticy line that you can barely make a single word out of, before it clicks and the line goes dead. 

Corroded Coffin are doing really well on tour. Like, being mentioned on tv well. You don’t begrudge their success, just avoid looking at their frontman in any photos or videos shown. 

Honestly, you’re still so confused. It was totally out of character for Eddie, Eddie who once turned up at your house with chocolate and a heat pad in the middle of the school day when you were out sick with cramps. Eddie who cried at Dirty Dancing when you saw it in the theatre together, and then tried to insist they were tears of disappointment because he had been missold on the premise of just how dirty the dancing was.

You’re coming home from a shift at the diner, sore footed and hair smelling less than fresh when you slump down on your sofa to watch tv, and its like he’s fucking haunting you. Yet another news piece on Eddie’s success and more photos of him on stage. You go to get up and stop in your tracks when you see a photo of the whole band, surrounded by groupies, Eddie with his arms around two of them, looking entirely too happy with himself.

You click the tv off and silently walk away, feet suddenly not too sore to prevent you from taking a long walk around town, and yet everywhere you go, there he is again. He’s at the liquor store, both of you trying to buy alcohol despite being so obviously underaged. He’s at the library, throwing bits of screwed up paper at your head, determined to distract you from your school work. He’s at the arcade, hugging you close when you win a game and smelling your hair in such an obvious manner that you and pretty much the entire building notice.

You don’t turn on the tv much after that night, it made you feel a little sick to know that you could be so easily thrown aside for a leggy blonde in fishnets. Hey, maybe she had a nice personality but that wouldn’t do much to comfort you. 

3 weeks pass and a couple more shitty static phone calls from Eddie are attempted. Then a knock sounds at your door, you open it to a large bouquet of roses in your face, a courier appearing from behind them as he confirms your name and hands you the flowers. You frown, suspecting you know the sender already, there’s a small white card on the flowers which confirms your suspicions. 

Phones fucking suck. I’m visiting Hawkins this weekend, see you then? Hope this arrives before I do haha!

-E

The roses are promptly dumped in the bin. 

It’s Friday morning. You have no time to make up any kind of lie that could explain why you wouldn’t be able to see Eddie. So you settle for confrontation when he arrives, you deserve to know what the fuck happened overnight for him to suddenly flip on you the way he did. It’s 7pm when Eddie finally turns up, hair still damp from a shower hastily taken when he got home.

“Hey sweet thing!” Eddie leans in to kiss you and you back up, he looks a bit taken aback by your withdrawal. “Is, uh, is everything okay?”

“Are you seriously asking me that?” You fold your arms, setting your jaw.

Eddie is blinking like a deer in the headlights, “Okay, I’m not sure why you’re so mad at me…” 

“Hmm, maybe the fact you slept with me and then left me without a fucking word for two weeks and then couldn’t be bothered to find a decent line to call me on so we could actually talk.” You pause for breath holding up a finger, determined to say your piece. “And then I get to see you slutting around with a bunch of groupies right on my tv, virtually every night.”

Eddie adjusts his weight between his feet, not used to this kind of interaction with you, “Can I explain myself please?”

“Please do.”

“I haven’t been ‘slutting around with groupies’ as you put it. Those are just photos for fans, I’m not trying to sleep with every woman I see.” He stops, fiddling with his rings on his hand, the same ones you’d worn while he fucked you. “I’m sorry I left in the morning. That was not okay. I just, I got freaked out that we’d been intimate like that and I was about to go on tour and the timing was so bad and I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“Okay well not all of us can just swan off on tour whenever things get too big or scary for us to cope with.” 

“I’m sorry, truly. I regret all of it and if I could take it back I would.” 

That hurts.

“You regret it?” Your voice cracks in a way that feels like a betrayal.

“Fuck. No. I don’t regret having sex with you. I regret leaving. I regret that I didn’t have the sense to tell you how I felt sooner. Shit I regret not begging you to come with me.” 

You soften, you’re still hurting but you can see that Eddie truly is sorry. “You still haven’t told me how you feel though.”

“Isn’t it obvious? Did the roses not give me away?” Eddie glances around and then sees a glimpse of red at the top of your bin. “Okay, that’s fair. I - uh, I…” Eddie scratches the back of his head, not knowing how to word this,

“I’m in love with you, okay? I have been since I was like 12 years old and you told me I had an ugly shaped head after it had to be shaved.”

You laugh a little at the memory, “You do have an ugly shaped head, that’s why I told you to grow your hair out.” 

“I’m really sorry for hurting you, I truly don’t know what I was thinking.”

“I know -”

“And I will do whatever it takes to make it up to you, for as long as it takes.” Eddie interjects, taking your hand in his, smiling softly when you don’t snatch it back. 

“You’re going to be grovelling on your hands and knees.”

“Seems reasonable.”

“And you’re going to be spending this weekend waiting on me.”

“But of course.”

“We’re going to discuss me visiting you on tour and sorting out better phone call connections, because Eddie… I’m in love with you too.”